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sceletaflores · 16 days ago

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LAYING IT ALL ON THE LINE...

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｡꩜°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡꩜°‧➵ WC: 4.1k

｡꩜°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, post-outbreak, hurt/comfort, joel's pov, general violence, minor character injury, jackson!joel, when he picks an unnecessary fight with you because that's all he knows, mentioned age gap, joel miller as a sad old man, joel miller experiences feelings, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty AND his knees are made of steel (but only sometimes), porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡꩜°‧➵ @retrosabers SAYS: thinking about you almost dying on patrol and joel is FUMING, unable to convey just how worried and anxious it makes him. the only way he can even remotely conceptualize his feelings is through a very PASSIONATE rawdogging ♡

｡꩜°‧➵ NAT'S NOTE: everyone say thank you sid for this absolutely luxurious prompt...i'm waiting. i had so much fun with this! i love love love a good semi-angsty, emotionally constipated man having to come to terms with his buried slash repressed feelings in the gritty wake of a near-death experience, like that's my shit. hope y'all love it!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel miller realizes that love isn’t just a four letter word…

"Southeast perimeter’s clear. Heading west by the river bed."

“Wow, you’re finally gonna stop gettin’ us lost out here, sunshine?”

“Lost? Please, you cried when I found that shortcut through the cedar thicket.”

Joel listens to you and Tommy bicker over the radio, a forgotten cup of coffee going cold at his side. That's all he can do when you're out there—patrolling in the snow with a few others. He's not proud of how he just sits by like some anxious house wife, listening to the static between check-ins, but he can't make himself focus on anything other than the way your bright voice filters in and out.

He tries not to hover. Tries not to keep the handheld clutched like it's a goddamn lifeline. But he does, eyes glued to the thing like it might crack open and spill you out if he stares hard enough.

Joel's really not even supposed to be listening in like this. Maria's chewed him out more times than he can count each time she catches him hunched over an old radio that he's never bothered turning in, says it'll do him more harm than good worrying over it.

Besides, these channels aren't meant for civilians sitting on their asses at home. He knows that, because that's exactly what he is now—civilian adjacent. Half-retired.

Tommy jokes about it every once in a while, the way Joel's slowed down, the way his joints complain louder than they used to. A while back, he might've laughed too. Now, every little twinge of pain feels like a reminder of what he used to be.

Joel used to be the one they all looked to out on patrol. He could track better, shoot cleaner, navigate faster than most of the younger guys. That's not the case these days. His patrolling has slowed down over the past few years. He only goes out a few times every couple of months, if even that.

He tells himself it’s by choice.

It’s not, not at all. He’s tired. His knees ache after long rides. His busted shoulder can’t handle the cold without locking up. Jackson’s got a whole rotation now, young joints, faster reflexes, eyes that don’t blur when the wind hits just right. So he doesn’t go out much anymore. Not unless the group is short. Not unless they really need him.

It makes sense. He knows it makes sense.

That doesn’t make it feel right. You out there, miles away in knee-deep snow with a rifle strapped to your back while he’s stuck here. Not out there. Not beside you.

Joel knows you can handle yourself—hell, you’ve proven that a dozen times over. You’re younger. Strong. Fast. Smart as a whip. You can shoot the cap off a beer bottle and you handle a knife better than most people your age.

Knowing all that still doesn’t quiet the feeling of unease that eats away at him each time you strap on your gear and kiss him goodbye with a, See you later, Miller. Strolling out the door like it’s casual. Like it’s nothing.

There’s a kind of helpless fury in it. A sick twist in his gut every time he watches you ride out. Like he’s some retired goddamn hunting dog. Trusted to guard the porch, but not sharp enough to run with the pack anymore.

Joel adjusts the volume dial on the radio like it’ll make your voice stay longer.

Tommy’s laugh cuts through the speaker. “Didn’t cry. I got snow in my eye.”

“In July? Sure.”

It comes in grainy and light, full of that same teasing bite you always give Tommy—enough to make Joel’s jaw tighten with a quiet, helpless kind of fondness. He almost smiles, but it doesn’t reach past the tight pull in his chest. You’re still picking your way through territory where any tree line might be hiding something.

Joel shifts in his seat, elbows on the table, jaw clenched tight. He tells himself you’re fine. You always are. You have to be.

The channel goes still for a few beats. Then, a crack of static. Some muffled shuffling. And—

��Wait—something’s moving in the trees. Left side, just past the ridge.”

Your voice. Sharper now. Less teasing and pointedly quiet.

“Copy,” Tommy replies, suddenly serious. “Keep eyes on—”

A burst of noise. A flurry of panicked voices overlapping and shouts. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Then nothing.

Dead air.

Joel’s heart drops to his boots. “Tommy?” he barks into the receiver. “Come in. What the hell’s happening out there?”

When there’s no answer, Joel shoots to his feet. The chair scrapes across the floor harshly as he crosses the room in two large strides, fumbling for his jacket. “Tommy? Goddammit, someone answer me!”

Nothing.

Joel’s heart thuds violently against his ribcage as he stares at the little black box in his hand like it’s an omen. He feels it rush in all at once—panic, guilt, helpless rage curling cold and mean in his chest. His ears are ringing so loud he doesn’t hear the slam of the door behind him as he tears out of the house and into the cold air.

Something happened. The group was compromised. You were compromised.

And he’s not there.

He should’ve been there.

Joel doesn’t remember the sprint to the stables. Doesn’t remember shouting at Maria when she tried to stop him at the gate. Doesn’t remember half the ride out. All he knows is that his hands won’t stop shaking around the reins and the bile in his throat tastes like ash—a sick, gnawing pit growing in his gut.

When he finds the group what feels like hours later, just as the sun starts to rise behind the ridgeline—you’re nowhere to be found. His eyes scan the way everyone’s spread out, some with minor injuries and the others patching them up.

No sign of you.

Tommy plants himself in front of Joel just as he hauls himself off his horse. He doesn’t even feel the way his knees jolt as his feet hit the ground.

“Where the hell is she?” he rasps, voice so rough it sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. “Where, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hands are out in front of him like Joel’s a wild animal about to snap. He’s got blood on his hands, but no signs of stab wounds or bullet holes anywhere on him. It’s not his blood. Joel’s stomach turns viciously at the sight, at the thought of whose it might be.

“She’s fine,” Tommy says, eyes wide and placating. “Took a hit, it grazed her side. She wouldn’t fuckin’ stay down.”

Joel knows he won’t feel any relief until he sees you, alive and breathing with his own eyes. “Where.”

Tommy steps aside just before Joel nearly shoves past him, nodding his head toward a rock outcrop a ways away from everyone else.

You’re sitting closest to the makeshift fire, Jesse crouched beside you to clean the gash along your side. You’re bundled in someone else’s coat, hair mussed and blood soaked through your undershirt and spattered across your cheeks.

Visibly shaken. Color drained. Bloody. Alive.

Joel’s throat locks up when your eyes meet his. You give him the smallest, tired smile—like you're trying to reassure him. That look. That stupid, brave little tilt of your mouth like everything's okay even when you're the one bleeding through Tommy's jacket.

It makes something in his chest crack wide open.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t know what to say.

Doesn’t trust himself for it to be anything good.

Joel takes three shaky steps towards you before his knees give out.

He drops hard into the snow. He doesn’t catch himself, doesn’t try. Just falls forward like a penitent man bowing at the altar of a God he doesn’t believe in. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto the red seeping through your shirt like it's the only color in the whole damn world.

There’s a beat where nobody moves. Jesse freezes, half-done wrapping gauze, and you’re just sitting there, wide-eyed and shaking like a leaf, lips parted like you’re trying to say something—but Joel’s already reaching for you.

He's on you in the next breath. Not rough, not like usual, not with that greedy, hungry touch he normally has after you come back from patrol. His hands are trembling when they find your face, tilting your chin up gently, his fingers brushing away wet blood and dirt.

Tommy glances away. Jesse too, both men busying themselves with helping the others. It feels too private, even out here in the open.

“Goddammit,” he chokes. “God—baby–”

His voice breaks on the last word. Breaks, something sharp and gutted and boyish, nothing like the hardened man who's grown to guard his emotions like they’re classified. Your hands hover uncertainty over his shoulders, the side of his face. You’re worried. He can see it plain as day, written in the wavering line of your mouth.

“Hey—hey, I’m okay,” you say, voice low and urgent. “I’m fine. Look at me, Joel, I’m fine. It just—it just grazed me, okay? I’m fine.”

You’re not fine.

You’re too pale. You’re stone-cold. Your blood is still tacky on your shirt, drying beneath his body's warmth.

Joel presses his forehead to yours and exhales like he’s been kept underwater, and you were the surface he’d been clawing to.

You whisper his name again, quieter this time, and he shushes you. “Don’t—don’t talk, just—let me—” His fingers press to the pulse point at your wrist like he still needs proof. “Let me feel you.”

You don’t say anything else.

You just hold him.

And Joel doesn’t cry. He can’t. Something won’t let him, but he stays there in the snow for a long time, holding you like a man who thought he’d never get the chance to again.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet.

You fell asleep half-way through, head lolling back against Joel’s shoulder as you both sat in the saddle, your body loose with exhaustion and the emergency pain meds Jesse had in his pack. Tommy rides ahead, checking the trail, but Joel barely looks up. He just holds the reins with one hand and holds you tighter with the other.

You’re taken to the infirmary the second everyone files through the gates. Joel sits by your bedside in stormy silence, hands curled into fists and resting on his knees, the only thing keeping him together.

You talk to the nurse on duty. You even joke with her, cracked voice and tired eyes like it’s all part of the routine. Like getting shot is just another part of the job. And Joel sits there while someone else wraps you in new bandages and checks your vitals.

It makes his blood boil.

All he can think about is the way your voice cut out on the radio. The way he didn’t know if you were dead or bleeding out in some field, alone. And now you’re laughing. Now you’re telling the nurse, “I’m fine really, just sore.” And it makes him want to tear the whole fucking clinic apart.

Joel doesn’t say a word until you're cleared to leave.

Not on the short walk back to your house. Not when you’re walking through the door, cleaned up. Patched. Your shirt’s gone, replaced by his coat and a thermal blanket around your shoulders.

Not when you nudge his arm gently like you’re testing the waters. Not when you say his name soft, like it might keep him calm before you’re heading towards the bedroom.

It doesn’t.

The moment the door shuts behind him, Joel erupts.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

You freeze in your spot halfway across the room, turning to face him.

Joel doesn’t move. Just stands there, fists clenched at his sides. His voice is low, shaking with barely concealed rage. “You gonna tell me why you thought playin’ saviour was worth bleedin’ out in the snow?”

You don’t say anything for a few beats, eyebrows drawn together in a hard frown as you look at him. “What was I supposed to do, Joel? Jesse was pinned, Tommy would’ve taken the hit. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Joel grates, stepping towards you. “You could’ve picked you. You could’ve stayed the fuck down like Tommy told you to.”

“I was trying to keep your brother from getting shot in the head,” you snap, the tension finally striking a flint. “I made a judgment call.”

“You made a stupid call,” he spits, voice loud and blistering. “You don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you repeat, your body growing stiff and tense.

“You shoulda fuckin’ stayed down.” Joel growls. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it—just rips his flannel off, tosses it hard at the wall.

You don’t flinch. Don’t even look away from him as his shirt falls and crumples into a heap on the floor. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, turning to look at you again. His eyes are dark, fiery. “Jesus, you—do you even fuckin’ think sometimes? You were hit. You knew you were hit, and you kept goin’. You didn’t stop, didn’t stay down like you were told.”

He steps closer, eyes boring into yours, face twisted with something too furious to be rational. “You fuckin’ chose to be a goddamn hero, huh? Run into gunfire like it ain’t a fuckin’ death sentence? That it?”

He can see the second your expression changes, your own anger rearing its ugly head now, bitter and hot. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this about me being reckless when you know I was just trying to keep people alive. I did what I had to do.”

“No!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you, furious and stricken all at once. “What you had to do was come home. That’s it. That’s all.”

You blink at him, breath caught in your throat.

Joel can’t stop, all the emotions he’s been dealt over the past three hours finally boiling over and spilling through his lips before he can think twice about what he’s saying.

“You could’ve died,” he growls, pacing now, hands dragging through his hair roughly like he’s trying to rip the anger out of himself. “Two fuckin’ inches to the left and that bullet would’ve torn straight through your gut. You think you’d’ve made it to town in time for that? Huh?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he snarls, spinning on you, voice cracking. “It’s not fuckin’ fair. Nothin’ about this is. You go out there, and I sit at home waitin’ to see if today’s the day I lose you. That the last thing I heard is your voice cuttin’ out in the middle of a fuckin’ ambush. That’s what I got to live with now. That’s what I saw every time I closed my eyes on that ride back.”

You stand there, lost for words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says, suddenly quieter, throat thick. He swallows hard, looking down, shaking his head like he’s trying to get a grip. “But I still almost lost you. And I don’t—fuck—I don’t know what the hell I’d do if that ever—”

His voice cuts off, ragged. Then he’s in front of you again, cupping your face with both hands. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that.”

“Joel…” You lean into him, slow. Cautious.

Joel meets you halfway.

His mouth is on yours in a heartbeat—hot and bruising and pathetically desperate. His big hands frame your face, thumbs dragging down your cheekbones as he licks a wet stripe over the plush seam of your lips.

You gasp into his mouth when he pushes the blanket off your shoulders, when his palms skate down your sides to grip your hips hard. Not too rough, not yet, but he’s holding you because he needs you rooted. Anchored. Here.

Joel kisses you like he’s still furious at you, like he hates how much he needs you, like he’s punishing you for making him feel so afraid. It’s not soft, all teeth and tongue as he devours you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When he pulls back, his mouth is wet with your spit, lips pink and swollen. “Need to taste you,” he mutters. “Need to feel you.”

Joel sinks to his knees before you can respond, breath huffing harshly against your stomach. His fingers tug your zipper down with frantic urgency, hooking his thumbs in your waistband to peel your pants down your legs in one swift motion.

There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just a heavy, sharp hunger carved into his face like stone as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his greedy eyes. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting one over his shoulder as he brings his mouth to you like a man possessed.

The first drag of his tongue is slow. Reverent. Hot and wet as he parts the slick seam of your cunt with deliberate strokes that make your spine arch. He groans like your taste knocks the wind out of him, and then he latches on like he’s got a point to prove—to himself or you, he’s not sure. All he knows is that worshipping you is the only penance that could soothe the panic still clawing at his insides.

“Joel.” Your hands tangle in his hair, chin falling to your chest as you gaze down at him.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue relentless, nose pressed deep against you. You whimper, twisting his hair in your grip, hips twitching—Joel doesn’t let you go anywhere. He’s got you trapped, your body pinned with his mouth buried between your thighs like he plans to die there.

It’s filthy, obscene—the way he devours you. Lips slick, beard growing damper with each swirl of his tongue, eyes half-lidded but still trained on your own.

Your eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide and black as spilled ink. There’s sweat beaded on your brow, lips parted and swollen as you let out small huffs of air.

Your thighs are trembling. You're soaked, arching against him, whimpering his name with tears welling in your eyes. And still—still—he won’t let up. He needs this. Needs to make you fall apart. Needs to prove to himself you’re alive by the way your body sings under his touch.

Joel can’t stop. Not until your thighs shake and you’re moaning that you’re gonna come, gonna come, Joel, please—

And you do. You fall apart on his tongue with a broken sob, legs clenching tight around his ears, hips grinding down into his mouth in weak twitches and shudders. He growls and holds you still, licking you through every last tremor until your body goes limp and threatens to sink to the floor.

Joel doesn’t let you fall—he lowers you down gently, like you’re made of spun glass, even as his hands skirt over the hem of your shirt. When he pulls it up, revealing the bandages wound tight around your side, he pauses. His gaze lingers on the wound. Jaw clenched. Something soft and wrecked flickers in his eyes.

Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face, your thumb running over the scar across his temple so gently it has his heart throbbing in his chest. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “Still here.”

Joel takes your wrist in his hand, lowering it down enough to press it hard over his heart. “You feel that?” he breaths. “That hasn’t stopped hammerin’ since I heard your voice cut out.”

You nod slowly. Your fingers curl into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Joel squeezes your wrist, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your forearm.

He climbs up over you, chest to chest—the jut of his cock where it tents the denim of his jeans grinds over the sensitive span of your cunt as he settles himself between your legs. He’s thick, heavy even through all the layers.

Joel’s free hand snakes down his body, making quick work of his belt. He rips his zipper down, freeing his cock from the confines of his soaked boxers and letting it slap up against his stomach.

You moan at the sight of it—hard, straining, the tip a dusty red and wet with pre-come. Your legs widen unconsciously, thighs twitching on either side of Joel’s hips.

Joel takes himself in his hand, fist tight over the base of his cock as he runs himself through your puffy cunt, slicking the skin of his cock with your wetness. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathes, lining himself up between your legs. “Gonna feel you around me, baby, need it so damn bad.”

Joel slides in with one long, smooth stroke, your slick making it easy, and the groan he lets out sounds like pain. Like relief. Like he might lose his mind from the heat of you. Your breath hitches at the stretch, head lolling back against the hardwood as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he grits through his teeth, forehead pressed to yours, his hips grinding deeper as you cling to him. “You’re mine, baby. Always—always mine.”

You nod, panting, eyes glassy. “All yours,” you whisper. “Only yours, Joel.”

And then he moves.

Hard.

Desperate.

Unrelenting.

He fucks you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth, like if he stops, he’ll unravel entirely. One arm hooks under your knee, pushing you open, deeper than before. His hips slap against yours, raw and hopelessly, but it’s not about getting off.

It’s about feeling you.

Every squeeze, every tremble, every gasp that leaves your mouth when he hits that perfect spot.

Joel’s never felt like this before.

So angry.

So scared.

So in love.

He fucks you like he’s trying to imprint himself inside your body. His thrusts stitch you back to him, sealing you inside his chest so you can never leave. A mess of skin-on-skin and heat and slick as the two of you meet again and again and again.

“Could’ve lost you,” he growls against your throat. “Fuck, honey, I could’ve—Jesus—”

You wrap your arms around him. “You didn’t,” you whisper. “I’m here, Joel—I’m yours—”

He groans, hips stuttering, thrusts turning frantic. He can tell he’s close, that he’s been close since he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Say it again,” he pants, slamming into you with a low, wrecked noise. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Always yours—fuck, Joel—”

You wrap your arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. Your nails dig into his skin through the thin layer of his undershirt, legs locking around his waist to keep him pressed against you like you’re scared he’ll let go.

Joel doesn’t let go. He’d never let go. Not even when you moan his name like a prayer, not even when your nails rake down his back, not even when you gasp out a warning, your voice thin and needy. “Joel, I—gonna—”

“I know, baby. I got you.” His hand snakes down between you, finding your clit and rubbing quick circles over it, desperate to feel you come. “Wanna feel you. Need to—fuck—need to feel you, sweetheart. Please.”

You shatter in his arms with a broken sob, clenching hard around him as your body jerks, overwhelmed and too raw to hide it. Joel feels you pulse around his cock, the tight warmth of your cunt milking him.

It’s too much, and he’s coming with a groan that sounds like it’s been clawed from his chest. He buries himself to the hilt, hips jerking with every pulse, breath catching in your ear. “Fuck, fuck—” he pants, voice hoarse, “—love you, I love you, I thought I lost you, baby, I can’t…”

You’re both trembling when it ends.

Joel holds you there for a long time, forehead resting against yours, still buried deep inside you. He still won’t let you go. Not yet.

Eventually, when he’s calmed, he pulls back just enough to look at you.

You expect that same look from earlier—rage, fear, guilt—but it’s not there. Just love. Just deep, aching relief.

“I can’t lose you,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

You reach up, trace the curve of his brow, the edge of his jaw. “You won’t have to,” you whisper.

Joel kisses you again. Softer this time. Sweeter. A delicate press of lips against lips. His fingers stroke your cheek, pulling back enough for his eyes to trace along your face. He follows the line of your brows, the shape of your nose, the soft curve of your lips.

He can’t feel anything other than love.

Gentle. Solid. Steady.

It’s only love.

mini nat's note: everyone please send good vibes for my hell sent ch*m final on monday...i literally need all the luck i can get. thank you so much for reading! mwah.

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pitlanepeach · 13 days ago

Text

Radio Silence | The Best Wedding Ever Group-Chat (Interlude)

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, groupchat chaos, everyone being a mess.

Notes — This was so fun. Full length usual chapter coming tomorrow! MCLAREN DOMINANCE IN MIAMI YEE HAW

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

The reception was in full swing, a soft golden haze settling across the garden as the sun dipped low behind the trees. Music played gently under the hum of voices and clinking glasses. Amelia stood at the edge of the marquee, her dress slightly lifted off the grass, one hand clutching the stem of a flute she hadn’t finished. Her other hand played absently with the beading on her bodice, calm but overstimulated—buoyed by love, yes, but also exhausted by the sheer amount of day in the day.

Max found her there, where the noise thinned. He didn’t announce himself. “You survived,” he said, offering her a chilled glass of water instead of more champagne.

She took it gratefully. “Thank you.”

He nodded toward the dance floor, where Lando was trying to twirl his mum to the beat of a song that wasn’t quite slow enough. “He cried.”

Amelia sighed, but she was smiling. “Yes. He’s very dramatic.”

Max gave her an amused look. “I saw your eyes watering while you were walking the aisle.”

Amelia shrugged. “That was only because you all stood up at once. It startled me.”

Max let out a quiet laugh and bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. “You look very beautiful, zusje.”

“Thank you. Pietra said that I suit white.”

“Yeah, well, she was right.” There was a pause. Then he added, “You know, I’m still surprised we all managed to keep the bouncy castle a secret from him. I’m pretty sure everyone else knew. Everyone in the group-chat anyway.”

Amelia blinked. “The group-chat?” She made a face. “Oh! Oh, I remember him making one, I think. A few weeks ago…”

Max nodded. “It was just the drivers.” He smirked. “It was supposed to be strictly for moral support and wedding plans… It ended up being an absolute mess. You’d hate it.”

“Would I?” She asked, curiously.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, definitely. Want to see?”

She held out her hand. “Obviously.”

—

WhatsApp Group Chat — Wedding of the Year Lando Norris created this group.

Lando Norris added: Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri, Fernando Alonso, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, Daniel Ricciardo, Mick Schumacher, Checo Perez, Yuki Tsunoda, Sebastian Vettel, Lewis Hamilton, Valtteri Bottas, Zhou Guanyu

PINNED MESSAGE

Lando N. Alright legends — if you’re in this group, congrats! 🎉 You’ve officially RSVP’d to the event of the year: mine and Amelia’s wedding.

This chat is now your one-stop shop for all things wedding-related like updates, travel plans, dress codes (no, Max, you can’t wear team kit) schedules, karaoke sign-up (Yuki, we’re counting on you)

Basically, treat this group like a more chaotic version of Reddit — but just for the wedding.

Questions, hype, memes, logistics — drop them all here.

Let the countdown begin. 💍🔥

—

Lando N.

First wedding day rule list had been put together lads 🚫 Strong smells 🚫 Flashing lights 🚫 Unexpected loud noises (Daniel.) ✅ Soft lighting ✅ Calm vibes ✅ Understanding from you lot

If you’re unsure, ask. Don’t guess.

Charles L. Wait wait wait I can’t wear my Tom Ford Oud Wood??????

Max V. You’ll survive Charles

Pierre G. Be honest Charles you just wanted us all to know what cologne you use

Charles L. It’s my signature scent. I guess I will just smell bad.

Oscar P. Just shower???

Daniel R. Do essential oils count Asking for a friend (the friend is me)

Lando N. NO essential oils. Nothing with any kind of lasting scent pls omfg We will smell like… humans. Deal with it. That said, please wear deodorant — don’t make me wedding a BO nightmare

Seb V. Delighted to finally attend an event that won’t give me a Dior Sauvage headache Well done to Amelia, what a great boundary!

Yuki T. WAIT SO I CAN’T WEAR MY AXE BODY SPRAY??

George R. You still wear Axe? Actually no that makes so much sense

Yuki T. I HAVE A SYSTEM GEORGE

Esteban O. Genuinely thank you for explaining this Had no idea scent could be overwhelming for some people Let me know if there's anything else we should avoid 🙏

Lando N. Thanks Esteban mate 🙌 We’ll probs send out some sort of a sensory guide Just follow it. It won’t be complicated

Fernando A. I will read the PDF I will understand the PDF If somebody does not understand the PDF you can ask me to explain it to you.

Valtteri B. I’ve already made a scentless shower routine spreadsheet Dropping it here [File: Bottas_NoScent_Routine.xlsx]

Lewis H. Proud of how mature you’re being about all of this @Lando

—

Daniel R. So when’s the bachelor party? 👀 Or is that not something ur doing

Lando N. wtf no Of course I’m having a bachelor party tf?????

Max V. ?????

Charles L. Wait what do you mean As in you already had one Or you’re going to have one Without us?

Oscar P. Oh my god @Lando did you, like…. Remember to invite people?

Lando N. … Wait wtf You guys didn’t get the invite?

Pierre G. LANDO.

George R. ARE YOU KIDDING. YOU HAD A WHOLE PARTY AND DIDN’T NOTICE WE WEREN’T THERE???

Lando N. NO I HAVEN’T HAD IT YET IT’S NEXT WEEK i thought it auto-sent from the app thing

Esteban O. What app thing 😐

Yuki T. WHAT KIND OF STAG PARTY APP FORGOT TO STAG THE PARTY

Valtteri B. Was it Eventbrite Because that app once invited me to a conference for funeral directors

Max V. I’m going to kill you I already bought a new outfit for it. Celeste insisted

Daniel R. Lando you absolute FUCKING IDIOT We planned a group choreographed dance for you and you were gonna cry AND NOW YOU DON’T GET IT

Lando N. WAIT STOP EVERYONE SHUT UP I swear I thought you were all in I literally have a villa rented There’s a boat There’s custom hats You have roles assigned in a murder mystery dinner

Lewis H. Is the murder mystery dinner like 50’s themed or I need to plan my outfits accordingly

Lando N. No it’s 70’s themed obviously

Mick S. I’m crying this is the dumbest group of men alive But i’m free next week Send the real invite pls

Fernando A. I was born ready for a murder mystery Drop the details I will prepare emotionally and theatrically

Checo P. What are the custom hats I need to know what I’m committing to

Lando N. [Photo attachment: 17 pastel-coloured bucket hats with everyone’s name embroidered and one that says “Groom of Chaos”]

George R. Ok. Fine

Max V. They are cute. Amelia’s idea I bet

Daniel R. Dibs on solving the murder

Lando N. Cool See you all in Spain Bring your A-game

—

Yuki T. [Photo attachment: Yuki in a shockingly bright papaya orange suit, no tie, white sneakers, grinning] LOOK I’M WEDDING PREPARED SO EARLY 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Charles L. Oh!

Max V. Wow. You look like a traffic cone.

Pierre G. Yuki… you can’t wear that

Lando N. Thats very bright

Seb V. I'm going to be honest here, Yuki... that’s a hard no for me.

Esteban O. I… don’t know how to say this… but it’s a lot Maybe we keep it a bit more neutral?

Daniel R. Is there a version of that suit in, like, a more subtle colour palette

Yuki T. I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WOULD LOVE IT IT’S FUN AND BRIGHT AND GOOD VIBES ONLY

Oscar P. Yuki, buddy… I can see the vibes, but it’s just… not for a wedding Maybe one piece of orange? The tie maybe?

Mick S. Man… It’s just a lot of colour.

Valtteri B. I think it's… a very bold statement.

Fernando A. I am speechless.

George R. Lando cancel the fireworks display, Yuki’s going to be the main entertainment

Yuki T. SO YOU ALL HATE IT NO ONE SUPPORTS ME EVER

Charles L. Look, buddy, we love you. But this is Amelia’s big day, and she’s already probs going to be like… so overstimulated. Maybe we… tone it down a bit?

Seb V. Maybe a pastel? Something calm and approachable?

Yuki T. You guys all suck i wanted to be the unique one at the wedding

Lando N. I’m going to send you guys Amelia’s colour palette. Didn’t think you’d need it but I WAS CLEARLY VERY WRONG

—

Lando N. Actually guys on the subject on suits Where should i get mine lol

Pierre G. Wait

Max V. I’m sorry What

George R. Lando please tell me you’re joking. PLEASE.

Lando N. No like I’ve been busy okay I just realised I don’t have one yet

Oscar P. Lando Your wedding is in seven days

Daniel R. Bro. BRO. YOU DON’T HAVE A SUIT???

Yuki T. You’re the GROOM???? You are the MAIN CHARACTER???

Fernando A. Have you even been to a tailor? Do you even know your measurements??

Lando N. Well ig figured I’d go like Tomorrow?? Maybe the day after??

Lewis H. This is insanity I think I forgot how young you actually are until right now

Max V. Do you think suits just GROW on TREES They need fittings. And time. And WORK.

Mick S. I’m having a small heart attack on your behalf Does Amelia know this Because I think she might kill you

Lando N. no lol That’s why i’m asking you guys

Pierre G. Oh you are going to get us ALL killed This is not a drill WE ARE IN THE RED ZONE

Oscar P.: Lando mate this is bad

George R. Imagine Amelia walking down the aisle looking perfect And then you show up in an H&M blazer from 2019

Yuki T. “Lando Norris marries in last-minute sale suit” IMAGINE THAT HEADLINE. IDIOT.

Lando N. Ok well no need to yell I just thought maybe like Asos? or smth?

Daniel R. DID YOU JUST SAY ASOS FOR YOUR WEDDING??? YOUR. WEDDING.

Seb V. I want to lie down in a field and disappear.

Max V. You better be joking You better tell us this is a prank Because I will drive to wherever you are and drag you to a tailor myself

Lando N. God okay okay I’ll fix it You guys are so dramatic

Pierre G. DRAMATIC? DRAMATIC IS FINDING OUT THE GROOM HAS NO SUIT A WEEK BEFORE THE CEREMONY

Yuki T. I’m texting Amelia I’m sorry She deserves to know the truth

Lando N. NO NO NO NO i’ll go today i swear i’ll go NOW pls do not involve her i BEG

George R. We are setting up a Suit Intervention We’re booking you a tailor. This cannot be left to you

Seb V. I’m too old for this

Daniel R. Lando.

Lando N. Okay fine I’ll go Right now After lunch

Max V. I’m watching you One wrong move and I’m telling Amelia everything

Lando N. Omg do you think Amazon sell suits

ALL. NO.

—

Lando N.: Right what do you guys wanna eat from the bbq?? Drop requests and I’ll tell the caterer lol

George R. Okay well i NEED halloumi Like NEED it Non-negotiable

Yuki T. Hot dogs but only the tiny ones they have to be small I don’t trust hot dogs longer than 4 inches

Oscar P. Can we get those garlic butter prawns? The ones that make your fingers smell for 3 days Absolute fire

Max V. I want ribs

Lando N. ok so ribs halloumi weird tiny hot dogs we’re not having fucking shrimp

Lewis H. Is there going to be a plant-based grill or am I going to be expected to gnaw on a tree branch

Daniel R. Corn But like with cheese and chili and lime Make it dangerous

Pierre G. No corn for me I don’t trust it It’s in your teeth for 6 years

Seb V. Make sure everything’s eco-friendly Bamboo forks. Compost bins. No plastic.

Fernando A. Can we get a whole grilled fish Mediterranean-style

Mick S. Burgers? Like. Just burgers. No one’s said burgers. What is wrong with all of you

Yuki T. What if the buns are slightly toasted like not burnt but lightly crispy i want a crunch

Oscar P. I’d appreciate the the option of pineapple on things meat veg dessert anything put pineapple on it

George R. ...do we have cocktails? Because that influences my BBQ choices. If i’m sipping a mojito, I want grilled peaches.

Max V. You know what I’m going to bring my own steak I don’t trust your caterer

Lando N. What the HELL is this list None of this matches This is a nightmare

Daniel R. I still can’t believe no one else wants corn You people are wrong

Pierre G. I hope a corn on the cob haunts you in your sleep

Lando N. This was a mistake

Yuki T. Lando make sure the ketchup is Heinz please

—

Lewis H. Hey just a quick one Is roscoe allowed to come to the wedding?

Lando N. Yes Amelia would love that

Lewis H. Cool I’ll dress him up Bowtie. Paws cleaned. Very respectful.

Yuki T. YESSSSS THIS IS SO IMPORTANT roscoe is a GUEST OF HONOUR

Oscar P. absolutely bring him

Pierre G. Wait wait wait i’m allergic to dogs Like face explodes allergic

Lando N. Where will he sit Is he getting a meal??? I’m confused now

Yuki T. give him a tiny chair a tiny plate a tiny wine glass with water

Max V.: Okay so I can bring the cats yes?

Lando N.: No cats.

Pierre G. Guys????????

—

George R. Okay WHERE IS LANDO

Oscar P. What do you mean

George R. I mean where. is. the. GROOM. No one’s seen him since breakfast His phone is off His location isn’t working

Max V. Are you being fucking serious

Yuki T. I thought he was with you Max??

Daniel R. Oh my god We lost the groom We LOST. THE. GROOM. SOMEONE CALL AMELIA NO WAIT DON’T CALL AMELIA OMG

Pierre G. He’s not at the cottage He’s not at the hotel His suit is gone WE HAVE A GHOST GROOM

Mick S. Has anyone checked the carpark Or the woods idk he might’ve gone feral out of fear

Seb V. He better not have cold feet I’ll kill him

Oscar P. Do we call the police???

Lewis H. Has anyone checked the venue

George R. What venue It doesn’t open for 2 hours??

Lewis H. Right But if you were panicking about the biggest day of your life and wanted to be alone and you were also Lando Norris, wouldn’t you go and sit at the alter way too early?

Max V. He totally would

Daniel R. Wait. Wait wait. I have a photo. From the florist. She just texted me a behind-the-scenes pic of the setup and IS THAT A MAN IN A SUIT SITTING ON THE ALTAR STEPS???

Pierre G. SEND THE PICTURE

Daniel R. *image attached* Zoom in That’s our idiot. Just. Sitting there. Staring into space

George R. LANO WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD

Lando N. Oh hey lol I just… got ready early So I came here Is that bad

Yuki T. LANDO

Oscar P.: Are you not bored?

Lando N. I just wanted to make sure i didn’t mess anything up And i didn’t know what to do with myself So i just. Sat.

Pierre G. He’s going to SOB the moment Amelia walks down the aisle Just warning you all now

Lando N. Shut up Gasly I am cool and composed I'm not crying aready I swear

—

Amelia stared at Max’s phone screen, horrified. “Oh.”

Max snorted. “I know. They are all terrible.”

Amelia spun around and launched in Lando’s direction. “Hey! Husband!” She yelled, and Max stared at her in astonishment. “Did you seriously wait until last week to buy your suit?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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john-get-the-salt · 1 month ago

Text

Routine (w/ jack abbott)

Imagine: The nightly routine of working in the pitt with your husband

Contains: Jack being a simp for his girl, RN! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, insinuation of future sexy time but no action

AN: I would take Jack and Robby at the same damn time next question

The day may have been winding down for the city of Pittsburgh, but in your car things were just getting heated up.

Jack was driving, and the two of you were crushing red bulls and blasting 90’s music. Night shift in an ED wasn’t for everybody, but it definitely was for you two. This was your nightly routine to get pumped up for the long night ahead. Maybe there would come a day you two tired of night shift….but that day wasn’t today.

Jack parked and let the song finish so you could finish your karaoke before turning the car off.

“Ready for another hopefully fun night Mr. Abbott?”

“Every night with you is fun Mrs. Abbott.”

You winked and then once getting out of the car linked your hand with his.

You two strolled into the ED with a sync that only came from years of working together. After dropping off your bags and clocking in you did your signature hand shake, kissed each other briefly, and then parted ways.

You had the routine down to a T.

The night turned out to be pretty busy, so you and Jack only caught each other for few minutes at a time. Still, it was enough to be able to find him across the ER and wave or wink at each other.

Amidst the typical craziness, you got a young woman sent back from triage with a laceration to the forehead.

It was all very routine, you were in the room taking her updated vitals and charting some demographics before one of the docs would be in do the sutures. All normal stuff, other than the visitor who was at the woman’s side. He seemed anxious and aggravated, with his arms crossed. He was shifting all of his weight from foot to foot and kept staring at the woman. But the woman wasn’t looking at him, so he was just staring intensely at the side of her head.

Little alarm bells were going off in your head, but you recognized you needed to tread carefully.

“I apologize I’m sure you’ve gone over this already, but for documentation purposes do you mind telling me how you got the injury?”

The woman opened her mouth but before she could speak the man interrupted.

“Like we told the last person, I was at work and she tripped over some books and caught her head on the coffee table. How many times do we have to repeat ourselves to a nurse before an actual medical profession see’s her and let’s us leave?”

You pressed your lips together to keep any choice words from escaping. There weren’t many things you hated quite as much as being talking down to because of your your credentials.

“I apologize sir, it’s just protocol for me to ask again before the doctor comes in.”

The man grumbled but said nothing else. You typed on your computer for a moment before then asking, “Now ma’am did you have any loss of consciousness after your head hit the table?”

“I-”

“No she didn’t.” Again he interrupted.

“If you wouldn’t mind sir I really need her to answer the questions herself to the best of her ability.”

“No, I was there and I’m telling you she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you were at work?”

The mans eyes narrowed and his face grew beet red. He lurched forward a few steps to get in your face so you took a step back closer to the door. You thanked your higher power that you’d left the door open and weren’t shut in.

“Listen here you bitch, I said she’s fine. We just need some stitches so we can get the fuck out of here.”

You risked glancing outside the door and made eye contact with another of the RN’s standing just outside in the hall. She made a notion with her hands to show she’d called for backup, which filled you with relief. She then made a move like she was going to come in and you shook your head just slightly. Having another nurse come in would likely just escalate things further.

Sir,” you raised your voice so it would carry out of the room, “you have 5 seconds to back the hell away from me before I call security and have you escorted out.”

But that was enough to set the man off again. He took another step and reached his arm out towards you when-

“Wooooah there.” Jack jogged into the room, putting himself directly in between you and the upset man. You released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“What’s going on in here?”

You looked to the man, eyebrow raised in challenge.

He grit his teeth but stopped fighting. “Nothing, I was just stepping out for a moment.”

“You do that sir.”

The man stomped past the both of you and out of the room, while the pt apologized profusely.

“It’s ok ma’am, someone will be in shortly to finish helping you okay?”

She nodded and you followed Jack back out into the hallway. You both watched as the man was walked back out into the waiting room by security.

“That was hot as fuck.”

You snorted, turning to your husband to find him staring at you with a wicked grin on his face. “What? Me ruining any chance of a good patient satisfaction score?”

“Fuck satisfaction scores. I love seeing you all stern and mean.”

“It was a close one.”

“He’s lucky, I could’ve taken him down like it was nothing.”

You huffed a laugh as your husband puffed his chest out. “Yeah, I know you could have. Thankfully it didn’t come to that….not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed the sight.”

His grin grew even more and instantly regretted your comment. His ego really did not need to be fed anymore.

“I’m gonna go grab the social worker to come talk to her, wanna eat soon?”

“Yeah, as long as you promise to start talking to me the way you talked to that guy.”

“That would be highly inappropriate on the workplace, sir.”

His eyes darkened a shade at that word, and you smirked.

“Huh. I’ll make a mental note of that for later.”

“You’re trouble, you know that?”

You shrugged.

“You knew that when you married me.”

“And I hope you never let me forget it.”

You laughed and he grabbed your hands and pulled you closer to him. He wasn’t big into PDA, but the hall was empty and no one was around. He cupped your chin with one hand and brought your lips to his. He gave you one long kiss, followed by another few quick ones.

You were left breathless, while that bastard just gave you a sly wink before you parted ways. What were you going to do with that man?

Jack really wasn’t going to let that incident go. For the rest of the shift, anytime he caught your eye, he would wiggle his eye brows and you just knew he was thinking about how hot he found angry-you to be.

Eventually the shift came to an end and the sun began to rise.

You were just grabbing your stuff from your locker when Jack found you.

“Ready?”

You nodded around a big yawn. He took your hand in his and walked you out to the nurses station where Robby was getting settled in.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you greeted.

Robby grinned at the nickname. “Good morning. Aren’t you looking bright and perky this fine morning.”

You flipped him off and Jack just watched in amusement. You and Robby acted like siblings with the way you bickered.

Jack gave his fellow senior resident a quick report of the current house, running through anything important that day shift should know. While he yapped you leaned on him, head on his shoulder.

You were juuuuust nearly asleep when he wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a kiss on the temple.

“Come on sleepy head, we just gotta make it home.”

You groaned but allowed yourself to be led out of the ER and to your car in the parking lot. Once you were both in and settled Jack drove off, leaving the hospital behind. You snuggled into your seat, eyelids heavy.

“I might not make it home, Jackie.” You said around another big yawn. “I might have to be carried in.”

That nickname only came out when you were really sleepy, so Jack would know you meant business and surely agree to carry you inside…..right?

“That’s fine sweetheart. But if you’re asleep I’m not getting you a mcgriddle.”

You shot up in your seat like you’d just been narcaned. You’d forgotten what day it was! After every Friday night shift, you two stopped at McDonald’s on your way home to grab something to eat before you passed out for the day. It was something little, but it gave you both something to look forward to as a reward. It was part of your routine.

“I’m actually more awake now than I’ve ever been!”

“Oh really? Isn’t that funny.”

“If you get me two McGriddles I’ll call you some mean names tonight before work.”

“Make it this morning after we eat.”

“Deal.”

#fanfic #imagine #drabble #fanfiction #x reader #writing #the pitt #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the Pitt imagine #jack Abbott imagine

649 notes · View notes

sleep-drunk-kitten · 11 months ago

Text

pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff, established relationship

content warnings: emotional neglect, some swearing, hoon is kinda a workaholic ig?, I don't think there's anything that really needs warnings other than this is sad but lmk if I miss anything!

summary: your boyfriend comes home late after promising to be home on time for once, only to find that you're nowhere in sight...

notes: this is another one that I'm not sure how to feel about ;-; but I hope you guys enjoy it TwT fun fact, the whole thing was inspired by an rp that I did with an ai where the robot somehow managed to call me by another person's name while cuddling XD

I'm making a general taglist for my fics so if anyone would like to be added please either send an ask or a DM ^w^

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

The white noise of your favorite movie buzzes through your living room, conversation and dialogue that you’d learned by heart filling the cold space with a false sense of familiarity. You sit cross-legged with your back pressed into the arm of the L-shaped couch in front of the tv, resting your chin on a plushie held close to your chest, looking not at the flickering screen to your right, but at the clock hanging in your kitchen–the only room in the house with the lights on.

9:17 pm, it reads. Roughly three hours and seventeen minutes since your boyfriend would typically get home from work.

Three hours and seventeen minutes since you’d been waiting on a barstool by the kitchen island where you both usually took your meals.

A tiramisu cake and a bouquet of flowers laid out in front of you.

Waiting.

So much waiting.

After an hour or so, you’d gently slid the cake back into its box, distracting yourself with the task of putting the flowers into a vase before they could wilt.

‘He’s late again,’ you think sleepily, eyes struggling to stay focused on the clock, ’he promised he wouldn’t be tonight.’

Your vision blurs as the long hand hits 12, eyelids too heavy to keep open, mind wandering to the conversation you’d shared with Sunghoon that morning.

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“What time will you be home from work today?” you asked sleepily, sitting up in your nest of blankets, having woken up to find that he was already in the process of pulling his socks on, careful not to wake you.

“I don’t know, Love, you know how crazy things have been with this update, I might be late again,” he said absently, looking around for his glasses. “Where the fuck did I put them?”

He runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, leg bouncing in agitation. It made your heart ache slightly in your chest, disappointment, guilt, and worry mixing confusedly in your stomach.

You loved Sunghoon, more than almost anything else in your life, he was the man you’d chosen as your partner, who you’d decided to stand by through thick and thin. But ever since the game company he worked for had started work on a new update, you’d been seeing less and less of him. Always coming home late, tired and stressed, mind wandering and absent even when he was sitting right in front of you. You understood, you really did. Between the two of you he was the one with the bigger income, the burden of taking care of you, of making sure that the two of you could build a future together, was on his shoulders. And it was a responsibility that he did not take lightly.

But still.

In moments like that, where you slid off your bed to fetch his glasses off the nightstand–blanket wrapped securely round your shoulders to fend off the cold that permeated your apartment since the heating had started to malfunction–moving round the bed to stand in front of him… you couldn’t help but feel like he was breaking your heart. Just a little.

It was in the way he only met your eyes briefly when he took them from you before standing and gathering the rest of his things, sighing in what could’ve been frustration or relief, it was hard to tell.

It was the way he didn’t stop the flow of movement steadily taking him away from you and towards the office till you called his name twice, stopping in his tracks and fixing you with a look that, though probably unintentional, made you want to bury yourself under your mountain of plushies and hide.

“I’m going to be late, (y/n), what is it?”

You winced. You couldn’t help it. Unaccustomed to hearing him say your name with so little emotion. “Just… could you come back on time tonight?” your voice is barely more than a whisper, tapering off into silence the longer you force your eyes to meet his. “Unless you can’t of course! I’m not saying you have to do anything, I understand that you’re busy and you can’t really dictate when or how things get done but just that it would be nice if you could be home on time tonight since-”

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll make it home on time tonight.”

His voice was softer than it had been a moment ago, giving you the courage you needed to meet his eyes. They were still heavy with worry, brows drawn together to dig a permanent crease into the middle of his forehead, but they weren’t quite as cold or distant. He was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time in what felt like forever.

It wasn’t much, you knew that. But it was still enough to ease the knot building in your throat. Enough to bring a small smile to your face as you nodded. “Mnm! Okay, I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Mnm, alright,” he said, a small, slightly strained smile coming to rest on his own lips.

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The apartment was almost completely dark when the lock to the front door chimed, alerting the darkness that someone had arrived. The figure that stepped through was slumped over, backpack sliding off one shoulder with his jacket, shoes abandoned haphazardly.

It took a moment for Sunghoon’s mind to catch up to his body, for it to fully sink into his bones that he was home. That he was home and it was nearly 11 pm. Home and the tv and kitchen light were both on, white letters onscreen asking the room if anyone was still watching Netflix.

Something in the kitchen caught his eye, a handmade vase his sister had given you for your birthday set out on the kitchen island, filled to the brim with pink, white, and purple flowers he did not recognise.

’Oh’

It was his birthday.

That’s why you’d asked him to come home on time.

Sunghoon groaned, face twisting with what could only be described as pain as he quickly set his bag down by the front door and made his way to your shared bedroom. You were usually asleep by this time, unable to pull all-nighters the way you used to back when you were in high school, always out like a light by no later than 10:30 every night.

’But she still stays up every night waiting for you,’ a voice in his head hisses.

’I know… fuck I know she does,’ his own voice replies, panic setting in when he finds your room empty, the bed neatly made, not even a dent to show that you’d been laying in it while working on your laptop during the day.

’She’s not here… are you surprised? How long did you expect her to wait?’ the voice whispers, a chill cascading down his spine.

The panic sets in with more vigor, wrapping round his throat and sending his tired mind into overdrive as he checks the bathroom, your home office, and finally the dark living room. Fear telling him that this was it.

He’d really gone and done it now.

He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew the moment you stood in the middle of your bedroom floor instead of closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around his waist, choosing instead to clutch your favorite duvet like a lifeline, wincing when you heard his voice, all because you wanted to ask him to come home… he knew right then that he’d been an absolute idiot.

He’d meant to come home early, to be there to make it up to you, to apologise properly, tell you that he’d take some time off as soon as the update was done and dusted.

But he didn’t. He let work sweep him up again. Drowning in error messages and buggy code till the sky outside his office windows was filled with the flickering lights of the city at night.

And now… now you weren’t there.

He’d left you alone.

He’d left you alone too long and you were gone.

You were gone.

You were gone and-

’Oh.’

There you were.

The relief when Sunghoon sees you–curled up on the couch, partially hidden by a small pile of blankets and stuffed animals–is immediate.

He doesn’t really register the way he sighs your name, shoulders relaxing, body melting into the floor the moment he’s in front of you, hand brushing a few messy strands of hair out of your face. The need to feel the warmth of your skin, to confirm that you really are there in front of him more an instinct than a conscious decision.

You mumble something in your sleep, tilting your face away from his cold fingertips, eyes fluttering open. “Hoon… hi baby… welcome home,” you say tiredly, shifting under your blankets in an attempt to pull yourself up.

Sunghoon feels his heart crack in his chest. Why were you smiling at him? You should've been angry. You should've pushed him away, demanded to know why he was back so late, why he'd been neglecting you in the first place.

“Baby? My love… why are you crying?” you ask, reaching for him through the haze of sleep still clinging to your limbs.

Choking back a sob, he leans closer, tucking his head under your chin and doing his best to wrap an arm around you from his place on the carpeted floor. “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, though the tears soaking into your sternum say otherwise, “just missed you…”

Your vision blurs at his words, a thread of steadily building tension and worry that had been constricting your heart for the past few weeks snapping. “Oh…” your voice shakes slightly, lungs shuddering as your breaths begin to feel lighter, “I’m right here you goose, what’re you crying for?”

“Who says I’m crying,” he says, hoarse with tears.

“Right right,” you laugh despite the dampness now soaking through your own cheeks, “because my baby never cries, huh?”

“Never,” he sniffles, nuzzling closer.

You stay like that for a while, eventually urging him to sit more comfortably on the couch, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap, his arms still wrapped firmly round your waist, hands occasionally kneading whatever part of you he was in contact with as if he needed to assure himself that you were there, solid and real.

He waits until he feels your heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, trying his best to calm down so his own can match yours, beat for beat. The way it–in his opinion–should.

But it wouldn’t, there were words lodged in his throat, and every time he tried to get them out he felt that same panic wash over him, sending his heart into a frenzy.

You could feel like beating against your cheek, could sense that there was something he wasn’t saying from the way his grip on you would tighten almost imperceptibly, stiffening as if he was bracing himself for something. A part of you wanted to push him, prompt him and ask what was going through his head, why you’d woken up to the sight of him crying in the dim light of your living room. And you would’ve if he hadn’t beat you to it.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“What do you mean? For being late? I know you can’t help it, Hoon, it’s not some-”

“No! I mean yes, I’m sorry for being late tonight but… I mean… I mean for everything… for not being… here, with you, like this… as often as I should be, I’m sorry,” he says, the hands at your sides nervously fidgeting with the fabric at your hips, nervously looking between your face and the static tv screen behind you.

Sunghoon had never been good with words. You’d learned early on in your relationship that he preferred to show how he felt through his actions. Yet here he was, fumbling through an apology because… because…

“My love… did you think I’d left?” you ask, gently cupping his face with one hand, urging him to look at you.

Puffy red eyes still wet with tears, messy unkempt hair from running his hands through it all day, tired and probably as emotionally spent as you’d ever seen him and still… still he was the most beautiful person in the world to you. He nodded, hiding his face in your chest again, hands stilling.

“Well,” you sigh, resting your chin on top of his head and running a hand through the hair at the back of his head, combing through it in a way he swears only you can, “at least you know you’ve got things you need to make up for…”

“I know… I forgot for a while… but I know…”

“That’s okay then,” you breathe, leaning back to kiss his forehead. “But Sunghoon… baby… darling… the love of my life… my little pookie bear… “ you both giggle a little at the pet names, “You know I’d never leave you over something like this right? I was sad, and hurt, and I still expect you to make it up to me by never doing this again but… I still love you, it only hurts because I love you… I’m not going anywhere.”

Sunghoon pauses for a moment, letting your words sink in. You think that when he looks up, lips slightly parted, it’s to say something in response, but you really should’ve known better.

Slowly, giving you enough time to pull away should you choose to, his breath mingling with yours before he steals it away with a soft, lingering kiss. Neither of you is in any rush to take things further.

It feels like a small eternity before he pulls away, like time stills for you both, but then he’s pressing his lips to your jaw, butterfly kisses tickling you down to your pulse point, making you giggle so you almost miss it when he says, “I love you too… so much…”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

It isn’t until the next day when you’re shuffling into your home office dressed in one of his oversized jerseys, complaining about a meeting that he remembers the flowers he’d seen on the kitchen island.

Pulling out his phone, he makes good use of his detective skills (and google lens), remembering all the times you’d spoken to him about the language of flowers, and the meanings behind certain blooms.

He wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry once he’d figured it out, opting to dig through the cabinets for a pack of waffle mix to fix you some breakfast instead. He had a lot of apologies to make…

Baby’s Breath: pure everlasting love

Pink Camellias: longing for you

Forget-me-nots: true love memories, do not forget me

#kiki writes things ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x you #fluff #enhypen fluff #angst #enhypen angst #cw: swearing #cw: neglect

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swordsandholly · 1 year ago

Text

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 7 months ago

Note

hc for adrian having a girlfriend or s/o prior to his mother's death. they're human and maybe her apprentince or something. and the church takes her too, but before they can burn her at the stake, dracula shows up and rescues her because he knows lisa was fond of her. during adrians and draculas fight maybe she interbenes at a critical moments so drac doesnt kill him and alucard gets away but she's now a prisoner of dracula w/n his castle. and maybe she befriends the generals?

A/N: Aw, man. Sometimes I wonder if Lisa did have an apprentice, that maybe Dracula wouldn’t be as anti-human as he ended up being, or if she could start to turn him to see the error of his ways sometime before Alucard and Dracula end up in Adrian’s childhood bedroom.

Apologies for the delays in updates. But my brain went WILD with this request so it’s a long one, I hope that makes up for the less frequent posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these somewhat bittersweet (then depressing then bittersweet again) headcanons! (Also this is unbeta-ed and prob grammatically messy as hell, so read at your own expense lol.)

Word Count: 6.2k

TW: Canon Typical Descriptions of Graphic Violence; Brief Mentions of Sexual Violence; Canon Death; Descriptions of Torture (the church is high-key fucked up here) 

Adrian W/ A Human S/O Reader (Who’s Also Lisa’s Apprentice, Prior to Her Death):

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━

The Beginning:

Okay, so let’s get one thing straight… FIRST OF ALL, Lisa would adore you!!! Like, you make her baby boy happy and you’re smart??? What else is there to it? And then to top it all off, you’re super sweet and kind and interested in learning about medicine and the world around you!

Lisa meets you once over dinner and she’s already planning the wedding in her head.

Adrian is smitten, because of course he is, but in an adorable, somewhat restrained way. He doesn't have a lot (ahem, ANY) experience in this department, so he’s hesitant to take things forward with you, mainly because he doesn’t want to scare you off or make you suspicious about what he is. (It’s hard to make out with someone when you have two big vampire fangs in the front.)

Adrian is young, like you. So, on top of all the complications, he feels no need to rush things. Sure, he’s heard a few whispers here and there about Dracula having a son, a son who according to rumors and gossiping villagers is to rise as the antithesis of Dracula. It’s all silly superstition, but it does stay fixed in the back of his mind. What would this future legacy mean for his relationship with you? And, should it ever come to pass, would you even be a part of it?

That’s neither here nor there though, and in the meantime, the two of you simply enjoy the talking phase. You get to learn more about each other's interests, and beliefs, but mostly, you spend time in proximity to one another— you remain busy attending to his mother, learning all you can about healing while he, just a table over, spends his time rereading one of his many favorite tomes.

I honestly don’t see you meeting Dracula until you and Adrian are like a fully committed couple. I’m pretty sure you would have to have been Lisa’s apprentice for a while and/or lived with the Tepes in their Lupu cottage for months before Lisa finally breaks through Dracula’s protests and makes him officially meet you.

I don’t think that meeting would happen in Lupu either. No, I imagine it would have to take place at Dracula’s castle, just in case you were to freak out, you’d have no way of escaping and telling any others.

I can almost see your reaction being similar to Lisa’s upon first entering the castle, especially if Adrian is already at your side. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Dracula is terrifying, but there’s also a giant telescope in the next room calling your name so….

Much to Adrian’s relief, this newfound information doesn’t make you frightened of him at all, if anything, it simply reignites your fascination with him. You throw rapid-fire questions at him: If he's part vampire, how come you’ve seen him eating human food? Does he need both food and blood to satisfy each of his halves? If he needs blood, he could take some of yours you know…

Your penchant for learning softens Dracula a little. For a brief time, he wonders if, perhaps, it was as Lisa said, that the humans could change, that humanity was changing for the better.

He sits across from you at their grand dinner table, watching you intensely as you and Adrian talk about the recent literature you’ve read. You’d no doubt feel Dracula’s all-powerful gaze on you, making you turn to him and… Wait, did you just smile?!

You’ve got guts, Dracula will give you that.

Knowing the family secret, you can’t exactly break up with Adrian, nor do you have any desire to. I wonder if Dracula would have rings made for the two of you, maybe commission a new family portrait or two.

You stay with Lisa in Lupu during Dracula's travels. Adrian is around, although he's always off between the castle and their cottage, so you never feel entirely alone or vulnerable. Your life is perfect! It’s better than you could have ever imagined!

That is, until…

━━━━━ ● ━━━━━

The During:

When the Church comes to take Lisa, you beg them to see reason. You cry and scream, hell, you even try to fight your way out at one point, only for both you and Dr. Tepes to be overpowered by the Church’s henchman.

The two of you are taken, violently, to Targoviste, where you’re thrown into dark, damp cells with little to no light. Freezing, you huddle together for warmth, each trying your best to reassure the other, that all will turn out well. Adrian was still around, right? He’ll have to come home to find you missing, he’ll come and rescue you. And Dracula was due to return soon, correct? Surely, they’ll come. Surely, they’ll stop this madness.

It’s a few days later, after hours of interrogation and brutal torture that you realize with a heavy heart, that no one is coming to rescue you. And what’s worse, that these so-called men of the cloth cannot and will not listen to reason. You’re starved and beaten, your hair is sliced off so close to your skin, that they take bits of your scalp with it in some places. And despite initially being imprisoned with Lisa, you find yourself being separated from her for longer periods.

The men try everything to get you to turn on her. They tell you if you recant her wicked ways now, say she used her evil magic to trick you, your sentencing will be easier. You could still live— they dangle betrayal in front of you as a last lifeline. You don’t take it of course. You love Mrs. Tepes, and you know she’s no witch. You muster what little might you have left, spitting at the men as you tell them to go to hell. You swear she’s innocent, that she knows nothing. Hell, at one point, you find yourself confessing to having manipulated her! You don’t think they buy it though, if the poor doctor’s screams from down the hall are anything to go by.

The night they light the pyre, the night of Lisa’s murder, you’re sick on more than one occasion. You scream your throat raw, begging them to burn you first! That she was innocent! That you corrupted her! That it was all your doing! But to no avail.

In a scene that could only rival the Crucifixion of Christ himself, you look up through tear-soaked eyes to see Lisa, enshrouded in flames, begging Dracula to show mercy on her killers, to forgive them, that they know not what they do. “I know it's not your fault,” she cries out, “But, if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing! Be better than them. Please!”

You sob and wail, watching as your would-be mother-in-law is burned alive. You scream out for someone, anyone! To please help you, save you! With Lisa’s last words echoing in your mind, you can’t help but fear Adrian’s and his Father’s reactions, should they find you both killed.

Oh, gods…

You don’t know what makes you feel sicker… The barbaric display you’re witnessing now or the hypothetical one that threatens to wipe out all living people in Wallachia once Dracula learns of what’s happened. You need not wait long for an answer.

In a fury of fire and grandeur, Dracula’s head appears, molded in flame, demanding to know what has happened to his wife. You cry out to him, apologizing profusely, saying you begged them to burn you first! You scream out how they refused to see reason, they killed her for helping! Injudiciously, in your indignant anger, you plead with Dracula to release his fury on the priests who did this, to send them to hell to be tortured for eternity for this unforgivable transgression!

With the silent fury of a gathering storm, Dracula’s fiery visage speaks calmly as his anger grows concertedly less. "I give you one year Wallachians,” he finally decides. “You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."

No sooner than he spits out the words, a coil of fire bursts from his image, winding itself around your body. The guards surrounding you gasp and flee, avoiding the coil’s tail as it whips back and forth, hoisting you into the air.

The fiery coil burns your skin, and the smell of even more burnt flesh makes you gag. If you had any bile left over at all, you’re certain it’d come up yet again. The pain is like a thousand stinging nettles and boiling water constricting your arms and midriff all at once. Your vision grows blurry as you feel your body move through the air, your nostrils taking in one last wretched breath of sulfur and smoke.

━━━━━ ◉ ━━━━━

The After — Part One:

When you awake you find yourself laid, practically bare, a heap on the floor within Dracula’s castle— the evil Lord himself only feet away, raging over his magic well— as shards of his magic mirror whip around him at incredible speeds. Your head is pounding, it feels as if it might explode, and your arms… Fuck.

Where the supernatural coil grabbed you, your skin was red and raw, small pockets of blisters already beginning to form. Your arms tremble uncontrollably as you try to move them, the pain that’s consuming your nerves is far too intense to hold them steady as you sit up into an upright position.

It doesn’t feel real; nothing feels real. It feels like a nightmare. It had all been perfect, everything was perfect— you all were happy! How did it turn into such horror so fast?

Shakily, you rise to your feet and clutch the remains of your clothes to your chest in an attempt to preserve your modesty, although it’s more of a subconscious act on your part. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, yourself included. It’s like the air is heavier here somehow, its weight filling your lungs and weighing you down.

A loud noise shocks you back to the present, nearly making you stumble over in fright. At least you would have, had Adrian not used his superspeed to catch you before you fell. One of his gloved hands grasps your left arm directly over the burn, causing you to let out a hiss. His rectangular eyes look wider than you’ve ever seen as he releases his grip, looking over your battered form.

“(Y/N) ...” Adrian says, his voice serious and quiet, barely a whisper.

You shake your head furiously, unable to trust your ability to speak without breaking. Upon Adrian’s gentle insistence, you feel your mouth opening, and the words slipping out, scraping against the back of your reddened throat as they exit your frail body.

“They killed her, Adrian…” you whisper, your voice quivering. “I, we tried to stop them, they just wouldn’t listen!” Somehow, your eyes begin to water again, despite your earlier certainty that your body had no water nor tears left in it at all.

“Once she realized they wouldn't listen to reason, she lied and told them I was innocent. She told them she had manipulated me, that I was just a child, that I didn’t know what I was doing, that she never got the chance to teach me!” A feeling of guilt consumes you as you speak the words aloud, and soon enough, your body is once again plagued by uncontrollable sobs.

Adrian listens intently to your words, his brows furrowed. You watch through teary eyes as a range of emotions flash across his face: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, and finally… acceptance. Your beloved hardens his gaze, choking down whatever grief he may be feeling. At the present, Adrian knows, there are more pressing matters at hand.

You follow Adrian’s steely gaze back, seeing his Father where he is bent over his summoning circle, cursing in a language that is foreign to you before he switches back to Romanian.

“One year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!” Dracula proclaims, promising to enact vengeance for the death of his love.

“No.” Adrian counters, slipping out of your grasp.

“Adrian,” you whisper, warningly. “Don’t—”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? That woman was the only reason on Earth for me to tolerate human life!” Dracula retaliates, enraged his son could even conceive of such lenience.

“Then find the one who did the deed,” Alucard proposes. “If you set loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die.”

“There are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, ‘No, we won't behave like animals anymore.’"

“(Y/N) did.” Adrian points out. “She tried to take all the blame, in an attempt to save Mother’s life.”

Dracula looks over at you with blood-red eyes, contempt clear on his face. “And yet,” he snarls, “Here she stands, and my Wife, your Mother does not!” He hisses the last word, livid that out of the two of you, you were the one who survived.

With large, fearful eyes, you watch as Adrian closes the gap between him and his Father.

“I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.”

“Adrian,” you warn again.

The next bit happened all so quickly.

Faster than you could blink, you watch, helpless, frozen in horror as Adrian charges his father, his longsword drawn. Despite their vampiric speed being unrecognizable to the untrained human eye, you swear you watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Adrian charges first, but Dracula, roaring in a fit of rage, counters faster— his Father’s elongated claws slash diagonally across Adrian’s chest, before his fist pauses, still embedded deep within your lover’s gut.

You don’t have time to think before you act. To you, Adrian has the abilities of a god, but to his Father… It was clear there’d be no match. You have no clue how you got your hands on it, no idea as to how you even managed a successful hit, but the next thing you know, a triangular shard of magic mirror is impaled in Great Lord Dracula’s back, put there by your very hand.

Too terrified to even breathe, the only sound you can hear beyond your racing pulse is a wet, gory squelch as Dracula retracts his claws from Adrian’s body. You hear the spray of blood before you see it, a rush of bright red blood gushes onto the marble floor between Dracula and his son.

Standing at his impressive full height, Dracula turns ever so slowly, ever so menacingly, to face you. His pupils are that of a blood moon, his sclera so bloodshot they practically look as black as night. In that second, you know you’ve fucked up.

You cower as Dracula raises one hand to you, instinctively shielding your neck from his nasty bloodied talons. With surprisingly repressed strength, Dracula backhands you, the force sending you flying backward, smashing into the base of one of the curved bookshelves lining the walls of his summoning room.

With his focus still on you, Dracula stalks toward you. Knowing it’s now or never, you scream at Adrian to flee. “Run!” The words rip out of your raw throat, sounding like an eleventh commandment.

You see Adrian, previously stunned by his Father’s disregard for his life, holding together the gaping wound across his chest. He has no time to even spare you, his beloved, a last look before evaporating into clouds, his cloud of bloodied mist bolting for the door, fleeing as fast as his injured state would allow him.

Dracula only turns to watch as his son, his very possibly fatally wounded son, flees the confines of his castle. For a moment it is silent— only the sound of both yours and Dracula’s heaving breaths echo across the chamber.

Clenching his clawed fingers into a fist, Dracula says nothing as he too makes his way to the castle doors, leaving your bruised and broken body alone in the dark.

━━━━━ ❍ ━━━━━

The After — Part Two:

Somehow, Christ only knows, you find your way to one of Lisa’s old labs and do a half-assed job of patching yourself up. You find your burns and dislocated shoulder to be the most painful of injuries.

Thankfully, Lisa had taught you enough about setting a patient’s shoulder that you managed to smash it into an adjacent wall, popping your joint back in yourself. The burns you wrap in honey and milk-soaked linen gauze, wincing every time the bandages brush against your skin. It’s awful work, slow work too, but you must have managed it alright because you find yourself patched up and passed out in one of the castle’s kitchens a few hours (or days? had it been days?) after that.

You eat raw vegetables and berries— nothing that requires cooking. Lord knows you couldn't prepare anything successfully now even if you were to try. Eating your foraged meal in silence you debate your next steps. Do you go back home? Would your family even welcome you home after your long and unexplained absence? And if they, along with all the humans in Wallachia were ultimately to be driven from the land, did it matter anyway?

‘Oh god,’ you think. You have to warn them, have to make them flee before a year is up. But where would you go? Where could you go? Greater Styria was a possibility, although it was not by any means an easy journey, and the climate there was much colder than your folks were used to here. You shakily rise to your feet and set out to find a map within one of the Castle’s many libraries.

After a good night’s rest, you find your mindset with a newfound determination: you will go home. You were going to get your family on the move and then… Then, you’d come back here.

You knew, in all likelihood, that returning to Dracula’s castle after the fact entailed certain death. But you also knew, things would get worse if he were to be left alone.

Dracula may not have ever loved you for a daughter-in-law. Hell, he may not have ever loved anyone aside from Mrs. Tepes, but you promised her while huddling together that first night in those dingy cells that no matter what happened, should either of you get out alive, you would not leave Adrian and Vlad. “They need humans, (Y/N),” Lisa coughed into your ear. “And most importantly, humanity needs them.”

Dracula would resent your company, he would want to be rid of you. But you could not be rid of him, not after what Lisa had asked of you.

‘Besides,’ you thought, ‘Nobody should have to grieve alone.’

The journey back home to your parents is majorly uneventful. Sure, it was touch and go for a while, your body was exhausted after the ordeal you endured, and your wounds had gotten infected once or twice. Thankfully, you had the mind to pack with you any potential treatments you might need.

It felt good to be home, to be amongst family again. You couldn’t stop crying and hugging everyone when you first arrived. You kept the details to a minimum but made it clear they needed to be the hell out of Wallachia before a year. You told them you had found an apprenticeship, that the woman was kind to you, but while in Targoviste, you saw the burning of a witch, and soon after the face of Satan himself appeared in flames, threatening the crowd. It caused a panic, you see, and you had gotten trampled in the process.

You didn’t bother to explain that the woman you were learning under was this so-called witch and that this Satanic figure was her husband. Nor did you tell them of your half-inhuman partner. You knew had you told the family the whole truth, they might have cast you out as a devil worshiper and a liar and choose not to heed your words.

Your warnings spread through your extended family like how ivy creeps up a stone wall. A fair part of your relatives in the country believed you enough to agree to uproot their lives and settle outside of Wallachia: some settled on Syria, others had decided on Greece, Egypt, or Rome. The more skeptical ones who hemmed and hawed over the validity of your claims agreed to move into the countryside, a decent distance from any major Wallachian city or village.

When you were certain they’d heed your words, you told them you could not stay with them, your Mother wept for three straight days and your Father could do little to console her. As much as it broke your family’s heart, you knew that your need to return to Castlevania was larger than yours. You weren't just doing it for your family, you were doing it for every family across the land. You couldn't be selfish. Mrs. Tepes was the most selfless woman you had met, and she taught you well. If you meant what you said to her when you first met, that you wanted to help people, you would need to buck up and accept the consequences of that.

Your journey back to the castle was much more melancholy than your journey home. You could almost feel the whispers of the tortured souls Dracula had slain before blowing cold air into your ears, begging you to turn back. Nevertheless, you continued. You entered Castlevania to find you were alone, however, that would not be the case for long.

Months later you had fallen into somewhat of a predictable routine within the castle and its new occupants. Dracula had recruited two humans to serve as his war planners— men by the names of Hector and Isaac, respectively. You appreciate the levity Hector, and his undead pets bring, and you admire the intelligence and loyalty Isaac has. You just wish they weren’t going along with Dracula’s plan.

You tread carefully as you find the time to express to each of his Generals that you wish they wouldn’t go through with this plan. You explain humans are not the kind of species to give in to subjugation, they will revolt eventually. You suggest the vampires come up with some sort of tit-for-tat system with the humans instead like, for example, promised blood servants would equal vampiric protection for that territory.

It’s safe to say no one is impressed with your centrist ideals, so eventually stop taking part in the conversation. You silently hang around Hector, and just listen with a sorrowful expression, satisfied with knowing that if you can’t change the Generals' minds, you can, at the very least, make them somewhat uncomfortable.

When Carmilla arrives, you’re immediately put off by her little display of insolence. Unlike yours, her dissent doesn’t seem to come from a place of concern. You make a mental note to keep an eye on her.

It’s during the General's next argument that you receive a ray of hope: “We are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.”

You feel your body grow lighter.

“So, that means,” you speak aloud to yourself more so to anyone else, “Adrian is alive?”

You’re met with a handful of annoyed glares from the other vampires as Isaac continues: “And that there was recently a Belmont there.”

Upon hearing Carmilla berate the others for not sending night creatures to the ancestral Belmont home, your smile falls and your improved mood falters. These Belmonts were famous monster hunters, famous enough to frighten your current vampire company. That means, if there was a Belmont in Gresit, at the same time as Adrian, as Alucard, whatever the hell he’s going by these days, it could prove disastrous for your love. For all you know, he’s still recovering from the wounds dealt to him by his Father. And if this Belmont, this monster hunter strikes first and asks questions later, he may accidentally kill the only living vampire in existence who stands against the very nature of this war.

‘How ironic,’ you think solemnly. Just as fast as the universe gives you hope, it rips it away once more.

You excuse yourself, and make your way towards Hector’s forge, aiming to distract your distraught mind with some cute reanimated pets.

Shortly thereafter, Hector joins you. He asks if you truly did not know Dracula’s son was still alive. You shake your head ‘no’, telling him how you had prayed every past night to any God who would listen, that they would send their holy armies and angels to guard him, but no, you had mostly just feared he was dead.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Hector about Alucard, Adrian as you knew him. How smart he was, how much the two of you used to laugh, and how much he looked just like his Mother.

“Perhaps that’s why,” Hector supposes, “Dracula could no longer bear to see him.”

You say perchance he’s right, conveniently leaving out the part where the Father and Son duo almost fought to the death right in front of you.

The conversation with Hector reignites something within you. You feel as if you had been praying all this time for an answer, and this was it. Alucard was alive, and so was Belmont. You understand now what needs to be done.

Your lover must once again fight his Father, and this time, he must win.

Your silent observations allow you to learn of Carmilla’s scheme fairly early on, as well as Godbrand’s demise at the hands of Isaac, yet all that time, you say nothing. You keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. If Carmilla divides Dracula’s army and court, she will inevitably make it easier for Alucard and Belmont to destroy him.

The Generals, and even Dracula himself, believe you are mourning the loss of your love for the second time, as his demise will be inevitable the moment he meets his Father and his armies— or at least, that’s what they assume.

When Carmilla has Hector send special night creatures to the remains of the Belmont home, you attach a letter around one of the creature's necks, hoping your love will notice it, and if he doesn’t, you pray he instinctively outwits the traps that await for him within his Father’s castle.

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━

Beginning Again:

The night Dracula chooses to move the Castle to Braila, you manage to speak with him one last time.

You bring him some tea, even though you know he won’t drink it, and you tell him, for what must be the hundredth time, how sorry you are about all that’s happened. You apologize for not being able to do more to save his wife. You tell him that if you could do it all over again if you were given a choice between who they should burn first, you’d demand it be you.

Dracula turns away from the fire to look at you upon hearing those words.

“She was fond of you, you know.” He says, sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. “She was overjoyed at the thought of gaining a daughter”

You nodded along a hurt smile on your face. “It was my honor.” Gathering your courage you continued: “Even though it didn’t work out, I want you to know I loved your wife very much… And,” you kept going. “I love your son very much.”

Dracula said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the flames within his study’s fireplace.

“It’s not too late, you know,” you prod gently. “If Adrian is alive, he could still come back, we could still be a family-”

“No!” Dracula’s low growl sent shivers down your spine.

For a moment you feared he would rise to attack you or perhaps berate you further, but no such action came. Instead, the former Great Lord Dracula’s shoulders deflated back to their hunched position, as he fell silent once again.

Quietly, you made your way back to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. If you had any tears left at all, you would have shed them throughout the night. Instead, you merely lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there would even be a tomorrow to awaken to.

Pleased to still be alive at this point, but feeling increasingly suffocated by this overwhelming sense of doom, you spend the next day cooped up in your room, on your knees, the rosary in your hand, whispering prayers of safety for your loved one. You couldn't explain it, but at the time, you felt compelled to recite prayer after prayer and reveal all the fears and worries in your heart.

You speak out to Death, to God, to all the angels and saints, and beg them to grant Adrian safe passage as he completes his task of saving humanity— it’s something his Mother would have wanted after all.

Amidst your fervent prayers, you feel the Castle shake and creak, but you soon realize something is off: it keeps jerking from side to side, several times, way too many to be a case of a single relocation. Your heart races, and in the pit of your gut, you know this is it:

The Alucard has come.

Your love has come back for you.

You scramble behind the door, poised with a wooden stake in hand (just in case, you never know), and wait.

And wait.

Following a crescendo of metallic crashes and screaming, you hear more crashes, this time lesser in intensity and they’re accompanied by the distinct scent of fire, sulfur, and burnt flesh.

It terrifies you, bringing such horrible memories of your almost demise to the surface. You look down at the burn scars on your arms and feel physically ill. Every time you shut your eyes to blink, you see the corpse of Ms. Tepes, burning alive right before you as if no time has passed at all, as if you’re trapped in the permanent hell of that memory.

The overwhelming ornery atmosphere in the castle only grows, seeming to suddenly flood your nostrils and every pore.

You watch in shock and horror as thousands of soot-colored transparent ghouls burst through your doorway, the shock of the impact sending you reeling into the bed. Tortured faces of all shapes and sizes circle you menacingly, before bursting through your room’s glass window, vanishing just as fast as they came.

Within an instant you feel… lighter, freer almost. It’s as if something major has changed, but you don’t know what.

Timidly, stake still in hand, you make your way down the castle corridors. Unfortunately, you have to take several detours, your regular route being cut off by giant holes in the architecture. A good portion of the castle looks like it had been hit with cannon fire.

You sincerely hope that whatever caused that damage is no longer rampaging around these halls, lest you stumble upon them yourself.

By the time you reach the throne room, the sun is just peeking out from behind the horizon. The sight of it flowing freely into the castle interior lifts your spirits with hope. Sunlight means no vampires. No vampires means…

You follow the originating path of the sun’s beams, finding three figures illustrated against the sunrise. One of them is a burly-looking man, with a large frame and broad shoulders. Another is a woman, at least, you’re fairly certain they’re a woman, with curly hair, dressed in flowing blue robes. And the third is….

You don’t even need a second glance to know who the third person is.

Crying out his name, you run towards your long-lost lover, almost losing your footing over all the debris covering the floor. But just as he would before, and just as he always would, your lover, Adrian, catches you before you can fall.

The two of you cling to each other for dear life, just silently sobbing, feeling grateful to be in one another’s embrace. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay intertwined like that, you just know however long it was, it could never be enough to make up for how much you missed him this past year.

“Adrian,” you clutch his coat, “I thought you were dead! I thought he had killed you! I was so worried.”

“He almost did,” the strange broad-shoulder man reveals in a teasing fashion. You watch as the robed woman elbows him in the gut.

“Alucard,” Adrian says, regaining your attention as he grasps your hands in his. “I am Alucard now.”

You look into his golden eyes, sensing while this is still very much the body of the man you loved, this Alucard before you, is not the same person that your Adrian was. After all this time, it feels like quite the loss, and yet, you cannot fault him for it. You are unaware of the journey he’s been on, of the sacrifices he’s had to make. God knows your character must have changed as well, living amongst a vampire court and necromancers for just under a year.

You back away from your love, temporarily ignoring his concerned expression.

“Hello Alucard,” you say, extending a hand, “My name is (Y/N). And I’d very much like to share a drink with you if you’d let me.”

“Don’ know about Alucard,” the broad man mumbles, gripping his side in pain, “But I’d very much like a drink. Or five.”

“Trevor!” The robed woman scolds.

“What?”

You smile at the three of them, feeling beyond blessed that your love has found such wonderful new friends.

When you had first fallen for Adrian, you assumed your family would consist solely of him, his mother, and his father, that you’d spend the rest of your days learning medicine in a little cottage nestled in Lupu. That simple life was to be yours. But now, it’s all changed. And Alucard is all that remains of that family you once loved.

You gaze out into the forest beyond the castle grounds, closing your eyes and sighing as you feel the morning’s sun on your face.

Yes, it was true Mrs. and Mr. Tepes were gone.

It was true that the old Adrian could never come back.

But if you had to choose a new life, a life here amongst a gorgeous castle, with your former lover and his two new friends, well… you doubted you could pick a better one than that.

A/N 2.0: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LOOOONG? Who knows? Anyway, it’s here now. And hey— did you pay close attention to the symbols in the dividers? Go ahead and look back if you didn’t, just a silly little fun symbolism storytelling. Oh, also, I will finally be updating The Queue List to reflect all the asks I’ve since answered and posted to not confuse people checking on the status of their ask/new readers.

If you liked reading this, please REBLOG! Likes are great but reblogs spread my work much further.

If you really, really liked reading this, Consider Buying Me a Coffee <3.

#adrian tepes x reader #alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard imagine #adrian fahrenheit tepes #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania imagine #castlevania x reader

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coupsiedaisee · 2 months ago

Text

jump then fall | issue 03 | c.sc

when trying to unearth hogwarts' resident Golden Boy™ choi seungcheol's secret girlfriend, leads to the proposition of a lifetime

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: hogwarts au, fake dating au, fluff, angst wordcount: 8.3k series masterlist a/n: hiiiii, omg, it's been so many months since i last updated this fic! a big huge thanks to @hannieween for being there every step of the way, this is highest wrodcount i've hit so far for a chapter. (and so many edits, gah, this has gone through so many edits). i really hope y'all like it, this fic is truly my baby, and so is seungcheol, ahhh. let me know everything that you think!!!!!

THIS JUST IN! LOVER BOY AND FELLOW WALLLFOWER ALREADY OFF TO A ROCKY START?

"Let's date."

The ringing is back in your ears, mind going blank as you gape at Seungcheol.

Almost immediately, Seungcheol backtracks. "Not actually," he says, rushing to get the words out, "Like, pretend to date? Everyone thinks we're dating, but we're not . . . actually dating?"

"B-but, what about your girlfriend!" You sputter, bewildered. You are many things, but you are not a homewrecker.

"My what?" It's Seungcheol's turn to go wide-eyed in surprise. His face shifts into embarrassment, "Oh, that." He mumbles something incoherent.

"Come again?"

Seungcheol rubs the back of his neck, "I don't have a girlfriend." His deep brown eyes shine deceivingly innocent, "I may have spread a rumour about that."

In a moment of silence, the clock above the infirmary door ticks, the sound echoing through the empty room. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

"You what?"

Your voice pierces through the tension, and Seungcheol winces.

"I thought that if people were under the impression I was in a relationship, I might be able to get some of my own time back," he says, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Maybe then, they'd get off my back for once."

"Seungcheol, what are you talking about? Get off your back? About what?" Perhaps you sounded a bit too exasperated, but you could not wrap your head around what he was saying. "You're like, the Prince of Hogwarts. Everyone here worships the ground you walk on. What could they possibly—"

"That's just it, though, isn't it?" Seungcheol's voice cuts through like the dull edge of a sword, bitter and resentful. He looks into his lap, thumbs twiddling with one another, trying to choose his words carefully. "I've got enough as it is, juggling classes and Quidditch." He forces out a sardonic laugh, "Don't know if it's because I'm in my last year and people think they're running out of time or something, but my admirers have gotten more tenacious, it seems."

You don't say anything as Seungcheol's nose scrunches up, like he's smelled dragon dung. You'd never seen him make a face like that.

"Did you know? Two days into school starting, someone tried to give me spiked cauldron cakes. They had spiked them with love potion." Seungcheol says, shuddering at the memory. "Jeonghan said," his voice pitching up with a nasally tone, "It's too bad you're not dating someone, maybe then they'd leave you alone."

"So you make someone up?" You say, incredulous. "Seungcheol, do you hear how insane you sound?" He was your Head Boy, smart and level-headed. Kind and helpful. Not, conspiring and acrimonious.

"How was I supposed to know you and Soonyoung would be this persistent?" He says with a hint of ire.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Your voice drips with sarcasm, "I apologize for ruining your grand plan, oh captain, my captain."

Seungcheol bites back a strangled yell. "Which is why I proposed a solution," he bites back.

"Yes yes, so you can 'get your time back.' I'm understanding that. However, what I don't understand is, what's in it for me?" You wasted weeks on a bloody ruse. Time that could've been better spent on other stories for The Whistler, or more importantly, your coursework.

"Well…" he trails off, looking pointedly at your arm.

Right.

You had just confessed to your whole class that the two of you were dating.

As though it were mocking you, the clock above the door gongs at the hour before shrilly ringing, signally the end of class. If it hadn't already, your supposed 'secret' would definitely be spread like wildfire amongst the students now. Everyone would know what went down in that potions class.

"So? Are you in or are you not?"

"I—" don't know, you want to say. You squeeze your eyes closed, taking in a deep breath.

Seungcheol doesn't get an answer. The doors to the infirmary slam open, and a bedraggled Soonyoung comes racing in.

"Wallflower!" He wails. His normally pristine pressed robes are ruffled, one side sliding off his shoulder from the two book bags slung over it.

"I'm sorry, I am so so so sorry," Soonyoung blubbers, shrugging off the bags. They fall to the floor with a thunk as he comes cover to sit next to you on the cot. His eyes are puffy and his nose and cheeks are splotchy with redness. "Are you alright?" He grabs your arm and you hiss in pain.

Soonyoung drops it like a hot potato, "Sorry, sorry. You are alright though, right?" He squints past your shoulders at Seungcheol, who's avoiding Soonyoung's gaze and trying to will himself to become one with the cot pillow, trying to take up as little space as physically possible.

"Oh, you're... here." Soonyoung's eyes flit between you and Seungcheol, mouth slightly downturned. "So, you two are dating?"

"Er," Seungcheol looks to you for an answer, eyes pleading. His eyebrows are furrowed so intensely, you're worried they'll stick like that forever.

Time freezes for a moment. A million different answers sit on the tip of your tongue, like a gun waiting to go off.

No, it's not like that. It was a misunderstanding. I must've lost my mind for a moment. You misheard me, I said I was hating Seungcheol, not dating him. I'm thinking about becoming a nun. Each one, a bullet coursing through the air at high speed.

"Yes." You don't look at Soonyoung, your gaze instead staying locked on Seungcheol, whose eyebrows are still furrowed, but a small smile now creeps onto his face.

"We're dating," You say, turning back to Soonyoung, nose scrunching in apology. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Hosh."

Soonyoung sniffles. "It all makes sense now. You being so adamant to stop the article." He wipes at his nose, "I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me."

"Hoshi, it was nothing like that, I promise."

Seungcheol swoops in, putting a hand on your shoulder, "We didn't want anyone to know, in case it didn't work out. You know how rumours go around here."

You tense at his touch, shoulders stiffening, and that all too familiar sense of trepidation creeps up your throat. Doing your best to shove it as far down as possible, you breathe through your nose and put on your most convincing smile.

This seems enough for Soonyoung, though. "Oh, that reminds me, I almost forgot," he pulls something out of his pocket, holding it out.

"My wand!" You lunge for it, using the movement to naturally shrug off Seungcheol's hand.

"I brought your bag too," says Soonyoung, gesturing to the bags at your feet. "Didn't want anyone else getting their hands on it. Say, Madam Pompfrey tell you how long you'll be stuck in here?"

"I'm not sure—"

"Probably a few days," Seungcheol interrupts. "She'll give you more salve to heal the burn and then its mainly a time game, waiting until the potion is out of your system and your arm is healed over."

"Very good, Mister Choi," says Madam Pompfrey, coming around your cot. She's holding a small vial of a deep purple potion, and when she unstoppers it, something smelling an awful lot like rotten eggs wafts your way. "Alright, you two, off you go. She needs her rest," she says, handing you the rancid potion.

Soonyoung makes to protest, but then decides against it. Seungcheol doesn't argue either, despite the disgruntled face he makes.

You spend two nights in the infirmary before Madam Pomfrey deems you fit and ready to return to the dorms.

Students bustle through the corridors as you make your way up to Ravenclaw Tower. The first class must have already let out, though you don't remember the bell going off.

Eyes sear into your back, and you tighten the strap of your bag, bringing it closer and scurrying up the stairs, past hushed and frantic whispers.

By the statue of Gilchrist the Gallant, a group of girls begin tittering amongst themselves as you shuffle past. You can't hear exactly what they're saying, but you pick up several mentions of Seungcheol.

The common room is empty, as is your room. You drop your bookbag onto the floor and fall into your four-poster bed with an oomph. Despite two days of rest, an ache thrums through your body.

Your forearm is still a little sore, but the searing, blinding pain is just a memory now. A faint scar runs from your wrist to your elbow, and you glide two fingers over it, the skin raised where the potion bubbled over.

A relaxing hot shower later, you throw on a clean set of uniform and put your hair half up in a clip, ready to head down to the Great Hall and attempt to grab a bite without striking up too much attention.

The doors to the Great Hall are wide open when you get down there. You tiptoe in, quiet as a mouse, but students are so engrossed in their own conversations that no one pays you any mind. Not that they would've on any other day, but circumstances seem to have changed.

You spot Soonyoung and Raveena hunched over something at the Ravenclaw table, deep in conversation. On the other end of the hall, Seungcheol sits at the Gryffindor table, surrounded as usual by Joshua and Jeonghan. His arm is propped up on the table, cheek cradled in palm, as he solemnly pushes food around on his plate.

Skulking through the tables, you find a gap between some students at the Hufflepuff table. Various foods cover the length of the table, and after a few days in the infirmary, the thought of sitting down and slowly gorging yourself makes your mouth water.

You reach over to grab two halves of a turkey sandwich, a ripe red apple, and some napkins to wrap them up in. It's not much, but it should tide you over till dinner.

"Wallflower!"

You freeze, hand inside your bag. A hush falls in the Great Hall.

Two tables behind you, Soonyoung seems to have spotted you.

"Blasted banshees," you curse. Your wand sits in the bottom of your book bag, although you're not sure if there's a bewitching spell strong enough to put the entire Great Hall to sleep.

Perhaps you could blow up a table, casualties be damned. You could also just ignore him, but would he ignore you?

Squeezing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you turn, plastering on the cheeriest smile you can muster.

"Hello Hoshi," you say between gritted teeth. Soonyoung makes to get up, but you motion with your hands for him to stay seated. "Just grabbing something to eat, I'll see you in class!" Murmurs break around you, but you keep your eyes trained on Soonyoung, your fake smile rivaling a Madam Tussauds sculpture.

Okay. This is okay. Could be worse. Could be a lot worse. For one, Seungcheol could—fuck. Your smile drops, and you whip around to the Gryffindor table. Seungcheol's sitting there, hand gripped tightly around the fork frozen halfway up to his mouth, and eyebrows scrunched with that signature furrow.

You turn to Soonyoung. Then back again to Seungcheol. "I-I—" you stutter, the words getting stuck in your throat. So you do the only natural thing anyone else in your position would do.

You run straight out of the Great Hall.

Okay, so you were speed walking. And you're pretty sure you barrel through some first years as you push into the entrance hall. But you are not known for your athleticism, or lack thereof, nor are you one for this much attention.

Shoes clack against the stone floor as you find your way down the corridor. Surely there is a quiet place for you to sit and eat without interruption. Or eyes. Or people. Or Seungcheol.

Heavy footsteps follow behind you, and someone calls out your name.

Seungcheol.

You pick up the pace, breaking into a slow jog (as if you could outrun a bloody Quidditch captain).

"Hey, wait!" A hand grips your shoulder, and you startle from the touch. The momentum of trying to turn and avoid it, careening you backwards. Seungcheol catches you by the arm, "Woah there, steady now." He sets you upright, hand still wrapped around your elbow. A drum begins to beat in your head, and you feel like you're going to vomit.

Seungcheol's eyebrows are still furrowed, and he looks, dare you say, a little upset. His lips are pursed in a straight line, as though calculating what to say.

"Why didn't you tell me you were out of the infirmary?"

Shaking your arm out of his hold, your eyes flit around the corridor, uneasy. "Sorry, I—" again, the words are stuck in your throat. You've gone speechless, as you so often do around Seungcheol.

Seungcheol follows your gaze to the student hanging around in the hallway. Everyone is staring at you two. He huffs, eyes rolling, and mutters, "Let's get out of here."

He leads you into a side corridor where more students linger post-lunch. Hushed whispers run through the hall, and Seungcheol huffs once more.

A group of students huddle by the far wall. They appear to be in their fourth or fifth year and stare you and Seungcheol down as the two of you make your way through the hall. One of the students struts out, coming to stand in front, halting your steps.

A pointer finger twirls in their hair, and they're giggling. "Hi Seungcheol," they say, voice squeaky like nails on a chalkboard. "Are you really dating—" they eye you up and down with a look that can only be categorized as contempt, "—her?"

Seungcheol's jaw clenches. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. "Yes," he grunts. "Now if you'll excuse us." He pushes past, shoulder-checking them, and you flounder to follow behind him.

The kid scoffs as they stumble aside, "Ow—excuse you?" You turn to see them throw you one last, nasty, look before bursting into tears.

"Oh for fucks sake," Seungcheol says under his breath. Other students crowd around the kid in consolation, and they all seem to fling similar looks of disdain your way.

Seungcheol whispers, "I'm really sorry about this, but brace yourself," and he grabs you by the wrist, setting off into a soft jog. He zig zags the two of you through the maze of corridors so quickly that you don't even have a moment to think about his hand moving down to wrap around yours.

He leads you down another corridor, pulling you into a hard left when a student comes around the corner. A tapestry hangs on the opposite wall, and Seungcheol pulls it back to reveal a hidden stairwell, ushering you through it. Your calves were starting to burn, you hadn't done this much exercise in, well, ever really. The two of you climb the stairs in silence till you come out the other end to an empty passageway.

Seungcheol relaxes, letting out a big breath with his hands on his hips, but then you hear more footsteps coming around the corner, and he lets out a groan. Spotting a broom closet across the hall, he pulls it open, pushing you through the doorway and quickly following after, shutting the door softly behind him.

Both of you stay still, listening as the footsteps come closer before passing by and fading off into the distance.

The broom closet, cupboard really, is cold and musty. Two long benches line either wall, and the ceiling rises to barely above your height. Seungcheol ducks to avoid hitting his head on the rafters.

You take a seat on one of the rotting benches, rubbing your wrist where Seungcheol held it.

Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, eyes lingering on your hands. "Sorry about that, I just—" he takes a seat across from you, "I wanted us out of there fast, I assumed you did too."

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." Seungcheol tilts his head, hair flopping to one side like a puppy, eyes filled with question. You clear your throat, "For not telling you. About being out of the infirmary."

Seungcheol hums, nodding. He crosses his ankles and leans forward, grabbing the edge of the bench, "Why?"

"What?"

"Why—" he repeats, staring you down, "—didn't you tell me?"

You frown, "I didn't know I was supposed to."

Seungcheol sighs, looking up at the ceiling. There's moss growing on the rafters. "Well, I am your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend. Right." The word feels odd on your tongue. You'd never called anyone that. You didn't think you'd ever call anyone that, fake or not.

The word turns over and over in your head as you reach into your bag, pulling out your food. You stick the apple out to Seungcheol, and he takes it.

"I think we should set some expectations," Seungcheol says, turning the apple over in his hand.

You unwrap your sandwich and take a bite. Turkey, lettuce, tomato, a slice of provolone, and a thin spread of mayo. Bite, chew, swallow. Bite, chew, swallow.

Seungcheol continues, "No one is going to believe us if we're not seen spending any time with each other. Then this will all have been for nothing."

Mouth full of sandwich, you ask, "What exactly did you have in mind then?"

Seungcheol takes a bite of your apple with a strong crunch, chewing. "I was thinking we could spend time with each other by studying, or doing homework? We're taking all the same classes, and it would get you away from The Whistler to stay caught up in them."

"Just studying?" You raise your eyebrows at Seungcheol, "This is your big master plan?"

He leans back with a heavy sigh, twisting the stem of the apple off and throwing it into the corner. "Okay, fine. What's your big master plan then?"

You think for a moment before answering, "Look, you're like, the Prince of Hogwarts, right?" Seungcheol's ears burn pink at hearing that moniker again. "No one probably even knows who I am outside of our year. There's no way anyone's going to believe this just because we start studying together."

Seungcheol purses his lips, and you know he knows that you're right. Everyone will be waiting on the sidelines to see you slip up so they can tear you to shreds. It'd be open season.

"Either way, we have a bigger problem than convincing the school." You fold the napkin in your lap, making a small boat that flops over. "I can convince Hoshi that I kept this from him, I've got my reasons, and he'll understand, but Joshua and Jeonghan are never going to believe that you're dating some girl you've never mentioned."

"Who says I've never mentioned you before?" he snaps.

"What?" you ask, confused.

Seungcheol ignores you. "And how do you know they won't believe this?" He takes another bite of the apple, chewing aggressively.

"You're friends are smart, not to mention you spend nearly all your time with them." You don't think you'd ever seen Seungcheol without them if you're being honest. "They're going to wonder how we got together, and unless we've got an iron-clad story, they'll see right through it."

Seungcheol doesn't say anything, just takes the last bite of his apple, throwing the core into the corner.

"If you can't even convince your friends, you're not convincing the school."

"Fine," Seungcheol finally huffs. "How?"

"How what?" You parrot back.

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, "How are we gonna convince them, princess?"

You choke on nothing, covering it up with a cough, "I—I didn't think that far." You avoid Seungcheol's gaze.

"You know, if I can't even hold your hand, that'll also make everything fall apart very quickly." A small stream of water leaks through the rafters, and you watch as the droplets drip onto the stone floor. "I'm not saying you should do something that makes you uncomfortable, I'd never ask that of you, but we should find an alternative that works for you if you're determined to convince people."

You both sit in silence, the sound of dripping water echoing through the closet, before Seungcheol speaks up again, "We should get to class."

You nod, eager to get out of there, folding your napkin boat up in half and putting it away in your bag. Both of you go to stand at the same time, your heads banging against each other.

You fall back onto the bench, groaning and holding your head as Seungcheol does the same. He gestures for you to get up first as he rubs the top of his head, hair going in every which direction.

You push through the door, adjusting your book bag on your shoulder, and freeze. Seungcheol runs into your back with a grunt, and you stumble forward a little.

There is a group of students loitering in the passageway, all with their eyes locked on you.

They stare, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. And if they're staring at you, that means—you turn around and Seungcheol's shutting the door behind him. His hair is in disarray, and he's fixing his glasses to sit straight, stopping abruptly at the small crowd of students.

Seungcheol straightens up a little and clears his throat, voice dropping a few notes, "Shouldn't you all be in class?" He raises an eyebrow, shooting the most menacing look he could muster, and they scurry off, not without tittering to each other, though. He relaxes, letting out a deep breath.

"Come on, let's go before someone else shows up," you mutter.

The two of you walk into Charms together, and it seems like you're the last to do so. While Professor Flitwick has not arrived yet, everyone else has already found their seats.

"Looks like the lovebirds decided to show up for class," someone shouts from the back. It's unclear who it was, and you feel your cheeks start to burn up.

You look across the classroom and spot Soonyoung sitting near the back next to an empty seat. "I'm gonna go sit with—" you wave a hand in Soonyoung's direction.

Seungcheol nods, "Go ahead, I'll sit with—" he searches the room for Joshua and Jeonghan. They were in the second row, Jeonghan was seeing how far he could lean back on his chair without falling, while Joshua was using his wand to charm little paper birds around Jeonghan's head. Seungcheol squeezes his eyes shut, "—my friends," he sighs.

You muffle a snicker behind your hand as Seungcheol drags his feet to his friends, and you make your way back to where Soonyoung is sitting, feeling smug when you pass by Tabitha and she glares at you.

"Wallflower! How are you feeling?" says Soonyoung as you slide into the seat next to him.

"Better, so much better." You lift part of your sleeve, "See, only a scar now."

Soonyoung grabs your arm, looking at the scar from all angles. "Oh wow, it's already fading." He sets your arm down and pulls out his Charms textbook as Professor Flitwick walks in, leaning over to whisper, "I was really worried, you know. With the way you ran out of the Great Hall this morning? Pudding was too. We thought maybe something happened again."

You squirm in your seat, "Oh, that? I'd just forgotten my textbook. Just had to go back and get it before class."

"Well, she'll be happy to see you back. So will the others." He lets out a small laugh, "I swear Dino would've cried if you took any longer."

"Hoshi, I was gone for barely a day," you say with a smile, pulling out your textbook, turning to the chapter on creating your own spell. At the front of the class, Flitwick calls on Seungcheol to pass out last week's graded essays as the professor starts today's lesson.

Your eyes follow the Head Boy as he wades through the rows, handing out everyone's essays. He'd fixed his hair from earlier, and it sat neatly combed. You shake the urge to mess it all up again.

When Seungcheol gets to you, he hands you your essay, smiling, and softly says, "Good work." As he walks away, Soonyoung reaches over to grab your essay.

"You got an Acceptable? I have an Exceeds Expectations, and I didn't get a 'good work,'" Soonyoung pouts.

"Wait, I got an Acceptable?" You grab it back from Soonyoung. A big fat 'A' is etched into the top of the page. You groan. It was only the beginning of the year, but you knew it would take more effort than you were currently putting in to keep your grades up this year.

You watch as Seungcheol makes his way back to his seat, giggling when he whacks Jeonghan in the head with his essay, and Jeonghan almost falls out of his seat.

"I like this side of you," Soonyoung says suddenly.

"What do you mean?" You ask, taking out your quill and a fresh roll of parchment.

"This young, blossoming love side of you," he says, hand on cheek and elbow on the table. He lets out an airy sigh, "Oh, to be young and in love."

Your cheeks burn, and you duck down to grab Advanced Magical Theory out of your book bag. "You're being ridiculous," you mutter.

Tabitha turns around to hiss at the two of you, "Will you two shut up. Some of us are trying to learn here." Soonyoung sticks his tongue out at her.

"You know," he leans over to whisper. "Now that we technically know who Seungcheol's girlfriend is, theoretically, the article can still happen." You stay silent, only shooting him a glare. Soonyoung scrambles with his words, "Of course, only if you're comfortable with it." You silently poke your wand into his side, send him the smallest of shocks, and he lets out a small yelp.

"Though I am curious," Soonyoung says, after class. Seungcheol had come up to you, I have Quidditch practice, but I'll see you at dinner? You had nodded, holding your bag strap tight like it's your anchor and mirroring the shy smile Seungcheol sends you, waving him a small goodbye.

The two of you head down to the newsroom. Soonyoung had some corrections he wanted to do on an upcoming article before dinner, and you had so much to catch up on from your time away.

"How did you two start dating?" Soonyoung asks as the two of you approach the entrance to the newsroom.

You stiffen, glancing up and down the corridor, but it was deserted. Seungcheol and you had yet to come up with an origin story.

Soonyoung taps his wand to the blank space of a wall, a hidden doorknob appearing out of the stone." I didn't know you two were even talking like that," he says, holding the door open for you to walk through.

You hurry through, dropping your book bag on a table and beelineing for a basket of unsorted photos Dino must have been working on while you were gone. "We take some classes you're not in, and it started with asking him questions about coursework and, sort of," you wave your hands about, "you know, just grew from there."

It wasn't entirely wrong. You and Seungcheol did have classes together that Soonyoung wasn't in. But you spent most of those quietly in the back. Unless you were partnered up with Seungcheol for something, which was rare, interactions with him were far and few between.

"Besides, he's the class topper. I thought I could get better marks working with him. It's N.E.W.T.s year, and I'm struggling to keep up. One thing just led to another."

"One thing led to another." Soonyoung watches you, head cocked, as you tap your wand on the wall by the rolling board, revealing a tall wooden door, the entry to your dark room. You pull it open, and Soonyoung follows behind. "Is he nice to you, Wallflower?"

Though the red light is on in your dark room, you're not sure he can see the face you pull. "What sort of question is that? Of course, he is Hoshi." You find rolls of undeveloped film in a drawer and begin pulling them out. "It's Seungcheol." You may have problems with students at your school, but Seungcheol has never, never, been one of them.

"But, you would tell me if he wasn't?" Soonyoung leans back against a table, arms crossed.

"Obviously, why would you think I wouldn't?" You crouch down under the table to open a cabinet file, filled with potions for developing film.

There's a beat before Soonyoung says quietly, "You didn't tell me you two were dating."

And there it was. You were wondering how long it would be till he brought it up again. It hurt Soonyoung more than he let on and you knew it.

You were his best friend. His other half. After everything that's happened to you, he just wanted you to be safe. If anything ever did happen, and Hoshi hadn't known about it? That'd break his heart.

"Hoshi, we just wanted to keep it private at first." You stand up, clutching a vial with trembling fingers that you hoped Soonyoung wouldn't notice. You hated lying to him. It wasn't something you did often, or at all, really. It made you feel icky inside. "He didn't tell his friends either. We didn't think it was worth saying anything until it became something worth sharing. And now it is." You make a face, "Well, sort of."

Soonyoung frowns, "Sort of? What do you mean, sort of?"

You unstopper a potion to pour it into a tray, "We haven't actually, I dunno, gone on a date?"

"What?!" Soonyoung says shrilly, and you wince. "I'm gonna kill him, what do you mean he hasn't taken you out on a date?"

They say the best lies are the ones wrapped in truth. Small fibs layered between facts. Pages of fiction woven into the book of reality.

"We haven't had the chance." You would become the greatest fiction writer ever known. "I'm sure he'll ask me on a real date soon." One to rival Madame Kwon. "Don't say anything to him, I don't want to make a fuss."

"Wallflower, surely even with your lack of experience, you know that to date, you need to actually go on dates?" Soonyoung postures.

"Merlin Casanova." You sift your film in the tray of potion. "We've barely been together, and some of us prioritize school. You can bite his head off later if he still hasn't taken me out."

This seems to satisfy Soonyoung, for now.

Later that evening, when you and Soonyoung head down to the great hall for dinner, Seungcheol is waiting at the entrance. He looks skittish, adjusting and readjusting his glasses, fumbling around with his sleeves, perking up when he sees you and Soonyoung coming down the steps. A smile grows on his face, and he gives you an awkward wave, "Alright?"

"Yeah," you say in a small voice. "You?"

"Never better."

Soonyoung sticks a hand out at Seungcheol, "Soonyoung Kwon, didn't get to properly introduce myself the other day."

Seungcheol hesitantly shakes Soonyoung's hand, "Yeah, I know. We're in the same year? I'm your Head Boy."

This doesn't shake Soonyoung, "Yes, well, you only know me as Soonyoung Kwon, Gobstones extrodinaire. I'm here today as Soonyoung Kwon, Wallflower's best friend." He pulls Seungcheol forward by the hand, and Seungcheol stumbles forward, going chest to chest with Soonyoung. Soonyoung whispers something in Seungcheol's ear that you don't quite catch, but it makes Seungcheol stand up straighter.

They exchange a silent look before Soonyoung lets Seungcheol's hand go.

Seungcheol's turns to look at you, "Josh and Jeonghan are already at a table, if you'd like to join us for dinner?"

Soonyoung shrugs at you and you stammer out a meek, "Sure."

"Let me get that for you," says Seungcheol, and he takes your book bag from you, slinging it over his shoulder as Soonyoung starts heading into the great hall, chattering about something to do with Gobstones club.

Seungcheol taps the back of your hand, and you flinch. "Can I?" He whispers, sticking out his hand discreetly.

There's something about it, him asking permission. You found yourself doing a lot of things this week that you normally wouldn't. The Wallflower from a few days ago would've probably shrunk back. But today's Wallflower? She's different. Anew. Today's Wallflower nods, letting Seungcheol take her hand in his.

He's gentle with his hold, his warm hand softly encapsulating yours. But then it begins. The monster crawling out from your gut, through your throat, roaring to be let out. You breathe through your nose, but you can't stop the feeling of his skin against yours, and the unease begins to suffocate you.

Soonyoung leads you all to the Gryffindor table, where Jeonghan and Joshua have already begun to eat. He plops himself down across from them with no preamble.

"Go on, I'll sit next to you," Seungcheol says softly, nodding towards the spot next to Soonyoung.

It takes everything in you to focus on the table and bench, sliding in next to Soonyoung. Seungcheol follows suit.

He lets go of your hand to grab plates to pass over, and your lungs expand back to their regular size as though breathing for the first time. Your hands shake as you take a plate and serve yourself some potato mash.

Seungcheol leans over to whisper, hot breath fanning over your ear, "Are you okay?"

If you opened your mouth to speak, you felt like you would vom all over this table. Without your voice, you just nod, trying to smile as if to convince him, and yourself, that you were just fine.

Seungcheol furrows his eyebrows but doesn't argue, taking the serving spoon from you when you finish, helping himself to a heaping of mash.

You don't miss the way Jeonghan and Joshua are eyeing you, their dinners forgotten on their plates. Eyeing you like the latest bird discovery while trekking through the jungles of the Amazon, both inquisitive and in fascination.

Jeonghan is the first to speak. "Welcome, kind of you to join us tonight," he says, with a glint in his eye. He stabs into a roasted carrot, brandishing it about, "We don't really understand so if you don't mind, please enlighten us. What made you want to date this uptight loser?"

Seungcheol glares at him, pushing his glasses up by the bridge. "You don't have to answer that," he says, "Jeonghan's just jealous that no one wants to date his smelly arse."

This does not seem to phase Jeonghan, though. To the contrary, his eyes crinkle as his smile deepens into a cheshire cat grin. He lets out a chuckle, "You see, our Head Boy here is about as alluring as, I don't know, our musty History of Magic textbook." He widens his eyes, eyebrows knitting in faux concern, "Did you have Poppy check your head while you were in the infirmary?"

You shake your head no, looking to Seungcheol for assistance, but your Golden Boy isn't even paying attention, instead too busy chowing down on chuck roast.

"If you haven't, you might want to," Jeonghan continues. "Head injury is surely the only—oof," Jeonghan keels over the table. "Did you just kick me?"

"Don't mind him," Seungcheol says, "Jeonghan's a menace to society. Joshua and I haven't figured out how to wrangle him in quite yet. Unfortunately, Professor Grubblyplank never had a unit on that."

Jeonghan scoffs, "Rude!"

Joshua ignores both of their bickers and tells you sweetly, "We're glad you and Soonyoung joined us for dinner today, we were both excited to meet you."

"Yeah, to meet and see what's wrong with he—ow." This time it's Joshua who elbows Jeonghan in the side.

"Oh." You're not sure how to respond to that. "We've met before, though. In class?"

Joshua shakes his head, "That's not the same. And Seungcheol here wouldn't tell us anything about you two."

"What's there to say?" You side-eye Seungcheol and Soonyoung, but they're both wholly unhelpful, staying silent. You decide to attempt to answer Jeonghan, to offer something for Seungcheol to work with. "I mean, it's like how there are some cool things in the History of Magic textbook, you just have to look in the right chapter? Like, uh," You glance over at Seungcheol for a sign, anything, that this was the right thing to say, but he's looking at you confused, like he doesn't know where you're going with this. And somehow, you're mouth isn't stopping, moving on its own accord, "Like, the goblins, um, their wars? There's a lot you can learn about why our current society works the way it does and the power imbalances set in place in part to control certain types of people. It's quite... fascinating." You end lamely.

Seungcheol hides a smile behind a dinner roll.

Jeonghan's slack-jawed, "It's worse than I thought." He whips his head around to Joshua, exclaiming, "She's also a loser!"

Seungcheol throws his dinner roll at Jeonghan, hitting him square on the cheek.

The rest of dinner goes by uneventfully. Afterwards, Seungcheol walks you back to the Ravenclaw dorms.

The walk is silent, and a little awkward. The corridors are mostly empty, and Seungcheol doesn't make any move to hold your hand like earlier. Which was good, you didn't want him to.

As you arrive at the bottom of Ravenclaw Tower, you turn to Seungcheol to grab your book bag, which he was so diligently carrying for you. He holds onto it tightly, though, the bag not budging an inch when you try to tug it off his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" You say, still trying to tug your bag out of his grasp.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" Seungcheol asks, baffled.

"I'm going to bed. So give me my bag, please." You give it another tug, but Seungcheol seems to have an iron grip.

"It's fine, I brought it this far, what's another couple hundred stairs?"

"Another couple hundred—Seungcheol, you don't have to walk me all the way up." You say exasperatedly. "I am capable of making it to my own common room. Have been since first year."

"I never said you weren't." He tugs at you back, and you stumble forward into him, head hitting his chest. For beat, you think you hear the badum badum of his heart through his warm shirt. Not a beat longer though, and you're hastily stepping back, only to lose your footing and start to fall backwards.

Seungcheol steps forward to catch you by the arms, careful to only hold on to your sleeves, hands clenched around the mass of robes.

You would not define yourself as a particularly clumsy person. But today has you feeling like a newborn deer. Mortified, you look up into those expectant, big brown eyes.

"Easy there, Princess," Seungcheol says, pulling you back upright.

You're quick to shimmy out of his grasp and don't even have a moment to collect yourself before Seungcheol begins to ascend Ravenclaw tower, your bag in tow.

You trudge behind him, up the spiral staircase, willing your heart to stop beating so erratically.

Seungcheol holds your bag out when you two get to the top, and you avoid his eyes while taking it back.

You knock once and the bronze eagle on the knocker speaks, "What has a face and two hands, but no arms or legs?"

"A clock. Goodnight Seungcheol," and with that, you slip through the door, closing it behind you without giving Seungcheol even a glance.

"You look awful," says Soonyoung, when you show up to Transfiguration with barely a minute to spare. He hands you a warm thermos. The strong scent of Nocturna Brewery's double caffinated brew wafts towards you. "Did you even get any sleep last night?"

"A little bit." A lie. You spent most of last night tossing and turning in bed. In fact, you'd spent the last few days riddled with insomnia.

Ever since Seungcheol dropped you off at your common room the other night, you haven't been able to get a lick of sleep. The last three nights have been restless, and each night has only made the next day even groggier.

You'd also been avoiding Seungcheol. Sitting as far away from him as possible in class, skipping out as soon as the bell rings, and spending your meals and free periods holed up in your dark room. While you knew you couldn't avoid him forever, you had a hard time coming to terms with what exactly his proposition entailed. Seungcheol was busy anyhow, running Quidditch practice, head boy duties, prefect meetings, and whatever other million school things he's got himself entangled with.

You chug down half the thermos, the liquid scalding down your throat, but the caffeine boost never comes through. Perhaps your body's had enough. You can't count how many cups you've had this week, maybe you've hit your limit. Class goes by like a blur, and you've retained nothing by the end of it.

As you're putting your things away, Soonyoung jabs into your side repeatedly with his elbow. You look up to see Seungcheol, chewing his lip and rocking back on his heels.

"I don't have anything during my free period, do you want to hang out?" Seungcheol sounds hesitant, like he's worried you'll say no. And you don't blame him, because that's exactly what you want to do. To say no and crawl back into your dark room, shutting yourself out from the world (read: Seungcheol).

"I've got Gobstones club, so I'll see you later Wallflower," Hoshi says, leaving you alone with Seungcheol, who's still chewing his bottom lip. He looks nervous, and you want to chastise him, tell him he's only making his lips more chapped, but you don't. This shouldn't even matter to you.

"I need to brew some potions. For my photos," you say, sounding just as hesitant as him. "Would you like to join me?"

You didn't even know you were holding your shoulders tight, but they relax when Seungcheol nods, letting you lead him out to find another empty classroom.

The walk is awkwardly silent, more so than the other night. When you finally find an unoccupied room, as soon as Seungcheol closes the door behind him, he asks, "Did I do something wrong?"

Your hands stall, wand in midair as you're about to procure your potion materials. "What? No. You haven't. Why would you ask that?" But, you already know why.

His eyes are downcast, "You've been avoiding me. I thought maybe I did something wrong."

"No. Sorry. I just—" you flounder. In your stride to avoid any sort of confrontation or opportunity to be embarrassed once more, it had not even occurred to you to think about how this would make Seungcheol feel. A part of you is also confused as to why this even matters.

"This whole thing is new. I'm not used to having…whatever this is," you say, motioning your hands between the two of you. "I go to class. Work on The Whistler. Spend time with Soonyoung. I don't know how to do all this other stuff."

Seungcheol sighs, taking a seat across from you at the table. You busy yourself with conjuring up your potion materials and cauldron.

He pulls out a piece of parchment and a quill, then gestures for you to sit across from him.

"I think making a proper strategy will help us with this." He says as you take a tentative seat. "And more importantly, help you."

Seungcheol's about to start writing when you cry out, "No!" slamming a hand down on the parchment. He startles and nearly knocks over his inkwell.

"If you dont want anyone to know, dont write it down," you hiss. "Rule #1 at The Whistler."

Seungcheol waves his wand, the spilled ink disappearing, "I promise to burn it in front of you if it'll make you feel better, but I really do think we need to figure this out. Now."

Unable to find a logical argument to that, you lean back, crossing your arms and pursing your lips, letting him continue with what he was doing.

He writes a list on the left side of the parchment: Sonyoung, Jeonghan, Joshua, Gryffindor Quidditch, The Whistler, Mythili, Raveena.

"You know Raveena?" You ask, sitting up straight.

Seungcheol taps the head boy badge on his chest, "It's kind of my job."

"But there's like a thousand kids at this school. You can't know everyone," you gripe.

"I know everyone and everything at this school," Seungcheol says matter-of-factly. "There's not much anyone's doing without my knowing."

"How?" You say, sounding weary.

Seungcheol is elusive. "You have your Raveena. I have my…ways," he says, not giving up anything more. He draws three lines on the parchment, connecting 'Soonyoung,' 'Jeonghan,' and 'Joshua.' Next to it, he writes, 'spending more time together: library, dinner, in between classes.' He then moves on to 'Gryffindor Quidditch,' etching next to it, 'come to practices and games.'

"Is that necessary?" You ask, unable to hide the groan in your voice.

Seungcheol looks at you over his glasses and crosses out 'practices.'"Fine, you don't have to come to practices, but you gotta show up to my games, you're my girlfriend."

You keep thinking that the word girlfriend would stop affecting you, yet your cheeks burn in obvious embarrassment. "I just—I've never been to a Quidditch game before," you stammer.

Seungcheol is flabbergasted, "What do you mean you've never been to a Quidditch game?"

You fiddle with the notches in the table, "To be honest, I don't really get it."

Seungcheol is still stunned, "B-but you take photos for Quidditch!"

You shake your head, "Only if Soonyoung can't, but that's barely ever, and only for practices. I've never been to an actual game, though."

'Go to Quidditch games together,' he writes. "Maybe you should come to my practices then," says Seungcheol.

You wrinkle your nose up at that, "I really don't want to."

"How can you not like Quidditch? That makes no sense," says Seungcheol, dumbfounded. "You have to come to our upcoming game. We're playing Hufflepuff, it'll be a tough match, you have to be there. People will think you're a bad girlfriend if you don't"

"I'll think about it," you murmur. "Does Mythili really need convincing?" You ask, trying to change the subject. "Feels like she has more important things to do than follow our love life."

"She keeps trying to wrangle me into daily meetings," he says. "Nothing is happening at this school to constitute meeting that often. What about the Whistler folks?"

"We hear everything the school hears," you say. "If we convince the school, we convince The Whistler, who then informs the school, whose students then feel validated in their opinion. It's essentially a symbiosis."

Seungcheol hums as you stand up, ready to start making your potions. "I think this is a good start, then."

"Burn it," you say.

"What?" Seungcheol retorts.

"The parchment. Burn it," and without waiting for him to respond, you incendio it for him. The parchment ignites before burning to ashes, and with another wave of your wand, the ashes disappear.

As you start on your potions, Seungcheol pulls out his school work, but he's unable to focus, choosing instead to watch as you prep and stir your ingredients into your cauldron.

"How often do you have to brew your potions?" Seungcheol asks, leaning back in his chair.

"Mmm, depends? Sometimes I have a lot of photos to develop, so I go through a lot of potion. Sometimes I'm trying new things out, and I need to brew more to keep up with the experimentations. It really depends." You drop in some dried newt tail and give the potion a half stir. It goes from a light tan into a blue so pale it's almost clear.

"Cool." Seungcheol's essentially abandoned the essay he was working on, watching as you diligently stir your potion. "Is Soonyoung usually with you?"

"Sometimes? Again, depends on what he's got going. We're not always together, you know." You sprinkle a dash of beetroot powder and the potion turns a deep violet colour without you even stirring.

"He hasn't said anything then? About us, I mean."

"What? You mean like has he caught on?" You think for a moment. Soonyoung hasn't given any indication that he doesn't believe you two, at least you don't think so. "There was someething he said the other day though. Something that might become a problem."

Seungcheol straightens at this, "What? What did he say?"

"It kind of slipped out yesterday, that you, um, well—" You avoid glancing up at Seungcheol before blurting out, "That you haven't asked me out on a date yet."

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's—we don't actually have to," you stammer. "But we should make up a good story, you know? Something believable. Not sure exactly what we'd do, there's not much to do around here, but I'm sure we can find something." Seungcheol stays quiet for a bit, and you think he hasn't even heard you.

"What are your plans for our next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Your hand stills while stirring. "I had some errands to run, with Hoshi?" You say, slowly.

Seungcheol crosses his arms, leaning back again, "Go with me instead."

"What?" You're stunned.

"Hogsmeade," he says, pushing up his glasses. "Don't go with Soonyoung. Let me take you instead."

"I'll have you know, I don't need anyone to take me to—" you sputter.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, "Let me come with you then, I don't care how you word it. But either way, let's go together."

"Why?" You ask.

"You said I hadn't asked you out on a date, this is me asking you out on a date," Seungcheol says, voice laced in frustration.

"I—okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Seungcheol swallows, "I'm not trying to pressure you into—"

"Seungcheol, I'll come with you."

"You don't have to do anything that you don't—"

"Seungcheol, I want to," you say firmly.

"Okay," Seungcheol says, a new determined look on his face.

"Okay," you respond.

"It's a date."

a/n: alright y'all, your thoughts? you get sooo much more seungcheol this time around! how is he 🥺and the fake dating is beginning ahhhh, props if you've made it this far hahaha. uwu, lmk what y'all think pls pls pls! -daisee out

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fanfic #title: jump then fall #au: hogwarts #au: hp #daisee.writes #seventeen hogwarts #band: seventeen #member: seungcheol

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peanutpinet · 8 months ago

Note

BABE!!!! We absolutely need a second part to Little Things, we need to know how their relationship develops and see Sylus fall in lover with reader's soul. PLEASE BABE PLEASE!!!

Welcome to My World - Sylus x Fem Reader (Sequel to Little Things)

Request: Craving for a sequel to this w/ reader actually going back to her world and sylus just defying all odds shshshshs these kinds of fics are so interesting love em <3

A/N: Just a lil something for those who wanted to see what would Sylus be like if he were to actually come out of the screen and into our world (still having his evol but is not addressed). Also if anyone is a Kpop fan, I just want to say, do have a listen to Aespa’s Welcome to My World. It embodies this fic so much and am putting some of the lyrics into the story! I hope you guys enjoy!!

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

Also, if you haven't read Little Things, the "first part" of the story, do have a read. Will be link here. But you don't have to read it and can just read each of these fics seperately

Warnings: Fluff but mainly ANGST, Isekai Theme, Will be Going back and Forth between LADS universe and our universe, slow burn because Sylus is tryna find you :))

Funfact: I remembered the TV Show: Westworld and how the characters of the game gain conciousness when writing this fic

Songs to listen to: NCT Dream - Broken Melodies, Aespa - Welcome to My World, NCT Dream - Like We Just Met

N109 Zone - 01:48 AM

It was in the middle of the night. When all are asleep, people in the N109 zone, those in the shadows have only started to wake up and get on about their day, including Sylus. Slowly awakening from his slumber, Sylus saw the girl that was beside him, fast asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady motion; indicating that she was in a deep sleep.

Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to scootch a bit closer and caressed the girl’s cheek. But as he did, the girl immediately grabbed his wrist tightly and jerked awake. “Who the fuck…w-where am I?!”

Hearing the girl’s words, Sylus knew. “You’re not her…”

Real World - 09:28 AM

You woke up with a pounding headache but slowly regained your consciousness, you noticed how the bed wasn’t as big nor was it as warm as when you were used to. Jerking up, you took in the room you were in. The bright white ceiling was the first thing you see, the smell of alcohol and blood was faint but you could smell it, and then you heard a beeping noise which made you turn and saw that your hand was hooked onto a monitor and an IV drip.

Whipping your head around, you search for your phone until you find it and immediately look at the date when you suddenly get a notification from both Instagram and Twitter mentioning the new update for Love and Deepspace.

“I’m back…” you sobbed yet your fingers glided across the screen of your phone, pressing the game that you swore you were in

As the game loads, you see the cutscenes of all of the characters and can’t help but feel emotionally overwhelmed whenever you see Sylus’ cutscenes.

Once the game loaded and you could hear that cafe jingle along with those familiar red eyes, you tried to see whether or not anything had changed in the game other than the new updates but when you clicked on his tall figure, the lines he said were nothing out of the ordinary. Even in the text message icon, you couldn’t text him like you did when you were in the game.

“Was it all just a dream?”

“Y-you’re awake!!” you heard someone talk and as your eyes looked at the doorframe, it was the nurse

You soon found out that you had been in a coma for a little over 2 weeks yet it felt like you were in the game for 2 months, maybe even more. Your best friends came to visit you every day and now that you’re awake, they were bombarding you with food, life updates, and all.

For once, you actually didn’t feel as lonely as you were when you appeared in the game.

Maybe it truly was all just a dream…

From a distance, a black crow was watching your interaction with your friends from a tree that was just outside of your window. After some time, the crow eventually fled and flew away from the tree.

N109 Zone - 04:18 AM

Sylus was beyond pissed. He took MC to where he took you in the beginning to get your evol and aether core checked but additionally, he wanted to know if you were truly not in the MC’s body. Sylus’ worker questioned as to why he brought MC again to check her evol and aether core, confusing the Onychinus’ leader.

Even when the two came home, the twins didn’t notice any difference from MC. What’s wrong with everyone? You’re not MC and it goes the other way as well. Why were the twins pestering MC who to Sylus, was not you.

“But boss, Miss Hunter and you have known each other for over 2 months now. What do you mean she’s not her?” Luke questioned, genuinely confused at his boss’ attitude

“She’s not. Have you forgotten who taught you both how to cook the simplest meal? The one that bought you those bulletproof vests?” Sylus demanded, something, anything about your sudden disappearance or at the very least, anyone other than him remembering your existence

“It’s Miss Hunter, though?” Kieran replied, making Sylus groan. “Just, leave me alone for the next few days” Sylus left the room and walked past MC who grabbed his wrist, making his brow arch in confusion.

Sighing, Sylus turned to see MC. “What is it that you want?”

“Where are you going? I went through all the trouble to get the N109 zone and I want answers regarding the aether core” MC demanded but Sylus just chuckled and used his evol to remove MC’s hand from his wrist

“You already have the aether core you’re looking for. Why don’t you go back and ask your doctor about that? I have other matters to attend to. Like why are you here instead of her” Sylus mentioned, walking away until MC talked to him

“You’re always mentioning her but you never mentioned her name. Who are you exactly talking about and what does it have to do with me?” MC questioned and this time, Sylus grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the nearest wall

“Don’t tempt my patience. I only have so much left ever since your attitude shows up instead of something else I want. From here on out, I could care less about your little quest. You can even have that brooch you’re wearing to get in and out of the N109 zone without getting harmed. But I want you to leave. Go back to your doctor, that fish man of an artist, or fake hunter for all I care. When I come back to this place, I hope that you’re not here anymore. Or you’ll hurt even more” Sylus warned, releasing MC as he went who knows where.

Sylus went into his car, the car that you love to drive in. Though you were just a soul in MC’s body, he could immediately tell the two of you apart. What scent do you like, the small trinkets that you would buy to keep his things more organized, some small keychain plushies that he would put on his keys which is in contrast to his scary look.

You might just be a soul that just so happens to be in MC’s body, the body of a person he should’ve been interacting with, the one he should’ve been bound to. But why does his heart feel incomplete? Why does his soul long for your own.

Gripping onto the steering wheel, Sylus looked at the plushie you put in this car. It was a koala, one of your favourite plushies, because you told him that you looked like a koala when Sylus carried you around. “I swore to you that if this were to happen, I would find you. Regardless what happens, I will find a way to get back to you. Our stories’ unfinished, sweetie. Wait for me. I’ll do anything to get back to you”

Real World

It’s been several months since you woke up. You still played the game but not as often anymore. You got a job at your friend’s office as a secretary. It pays well, you and your friend are roommates, life has been going fairly well that you barely played the game that provided you comfort.

One day, however, there was a bouquet of red Carnations mixed with pink Camillas on your desk with a note attached to it. “I hope this gets to you. If this ever reaches you, it means that I’m another step closer to seeing you again. There’s this uneasy feeling I’ve been feeling since you were gone. I promise I won’t stop finding you”

Confused, you asked everyone, including the delivery man who delivered the flowers to you but no one knew where it came from. It didn’t even mention your name and only a description of you.

Brushing it off, you thought it must’ve been some kind of prank until several more flowers reached you. One after another, there were notes along with the flowers which all made your heart clench because whoever this person was, it seemed that either you left a very deep impression on them or this was some sort of stalker.

“Did the first one reach you? I’m getting closer”

“I hope that you’re eating well. Wait for me”

“It seems that you’ve forgotten about me once more. No matter, I’ll be sure to jog your memory once we meet again”

Another year has finally passed and the bouquet and notes kept on coming until you saw the flowers and notes that came in. Instead of the usual red Carnation or pink Camillas or even sometimes Forget me nots, this time it was a bouquet of black and red roses with a note of a familiar handwriting and scent.

“I’ve finally found you. You said that you were worried about me finding the real you but to me, you’re just as perfect as your soul. Your face, your body, it matches your soul perfectly. And even though you might’ve forgotten about me, I assure you that my love for you is still the same like we just met. Perhaps in the game, I would allow you to go live your life without me because it’s safer for you. But here, looking at you, I can feel myself coming alive once more. Whether you try to move on, I know that there’s a lingering feeling behind your pretty head thinking of the possibility. And you would be correct, sweetie. I’m fulfilling my promise to you. For there is no love greater than mine.

P.S: we should thank Mephisto for always managing to find you when I couldn’t

-Sylus”

You were in shock. Sure, there was a small voice, hidden behind all your to-dos, your schedules, your wants, likes, needs. A faint voice telling you of the possibility that perhaps Sylus was the one to send you all those flowers and notes but you were in your world, the real world. You would lock that faint voice and never think about it again. You were realistic. There was no way that a fictional 3D man would send you all of that.

And Mephisto? He’s a bird. A mechanical bird that is tied with Sylus. Everything seemed ridiculous. You couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day until your boss called you for a sudden meeting outside of the office and at a restaurant.

The restaurant was filled with high-class people, some were doing business with another while others were simply finding ways to spend their money. Suddenly, it reminded you of the time when you were in MC’s body and Sylus would take the two of you out to dinner.

Remembering Sylus, the flowers, and the note, you decided to excuse yourself to the restroom but in reality, you decided to log into the very game you downloaded to seek comfort. The nostalgia was coming back. They made a new update and introduced a new male character. Once your game loads, Sylus is still in the game and when you poke him, thinking that he’ll respond like how he would when a player hasn’t logged in for so long, he surprises you.

“You’re probably wondering why am I not responding to you in a way that you expect. Well, why don’t you check my messages on the message feature, sweetie?” Sylus mentioned and immediately, you went to open the message feature in the game and once again, you were shocked with what you read on the screen that you had to cover your mouth.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kitten? I’m sad that you’ve forgotten about me but I’m genuinely happy with how you’re living your life so far”

“But if I were to tell you that I want to be apart of your life here, would you accept me?”

You were given the chance to answer him, to reply to this sudden message but your boss had already called you back and unfortunately, you had to go back to the table and sit beside your boss.

As you were about to sit down, you heard that familiar soothing voice that always calms your nerves; especially when you’re in the N109 zone. “Is this your secretary that we’ve been waiting for?”

Immediately, you looked up and met with those soft bright red eyes behind small glasses. The white hair you’ve gone through with your fingers was styled like how you first met him. The figure sitting in front of you was wearing a soft grey sweater and black jeans.

And that smile, that smile that you’re so used to seeing everyday is now showing in front of you again. “Pleased to meet you, sweetheart. Shall we begin the meeting?”

Throughout the meeting, you tried your best to pay attention and jot down all the notes you needed. You struggled for a moment and even towards the end, you stutter your thank you and goodbyes until the white-hair man called you.

“Waiting for someone, sweetie?” you heard that damn voice as you could feel all hairs on your skin stand up

Turning around, you finally got a good look at him. All of his 190cm height was towering over your figure. Your actual real-life self and not the MC you created in the game.

On one side, you wanted to talk, to question him if all of this was just another one of those visions you used to have. On the other, you wanted to jump at the man in front of you. To cry in his arms as he holds you close. But nothing. You were frozen in your spot as this Sylus look-alike smirked at you and held his index out which suddenly a black crow rest on.

“Is, is that…” you managed to utter, making the man in front of you chuckle

“Mephisto. An actual crow this time” he said, extending his hand out so the black crow was within your reach

Extending your own index out, the black crow, Mephisto went onto your index and you instinctively stroke its head. “We never stop looking for you, you know”

You look up to see those eyes that once were filled with rage now filled with sadness. Sighing, you tried to remind yourself that this is the real world, not your game.

“I'm sorry, sir. You must've gotten the wrong person. I don't think we’ve met before this meeting today. Your bird must be very friendly to have gone on another person’s hand” you mentioned, intending to return the black crow, still not believing that the man and bird in front of you are who you think they are

But instead, the man in front of you turned and took something from his pocket. “Is that so? Well then either you don’t want to remember what we’ve been through or Mephisto might’ve gotten the wrong person. Then how about we reintroduce ourselves to one another?”

“I’m Sylus, this is Mephisto. We were from a faraway land called the N109 zone. For the past year, I've been building my multimillion security tech company” Sylus mentioned, extending his hand out, revealing the brooch that you once wore as a promise to Sylus to stay by him

Shocked to see the brooch, you stutter at your words but Sylus noticed this and gently took one of your hands which you didn’t deny. “I meant what I said and I’m keeping my promise. My only regret is I couldn’t come find you sooner”

“H-how? This has got to be a joke. You’re not real. You’re not actually here. I must be dreaming again. I’m going mad” you started to lose your mind but Sylus pulled you into a hug

“Tell me this isn’t real then. Tell me that you don’t see me. Tell me that you don’t feel this warmth we both have wanted for a long time. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll gladly walk away from you so that you can continue to live your life as is but don’t expect me not to want to be a part of your life. Don’t think that even if I walk away today, I won’t try my best to still keep an eye on you” Sylus stated, whispering into your ear, kissing right below your ear

Taking in his calming leather scent, you slowly sob in Sylus’ chest as he strokes your head, calming you. “You’re such a stubborn crow” you finally hug Sylus, indirectly accepting him back into your life

“I know. But it’s worth it. I finally get back to you. Though I can’t offer you as much as I would when we were in the N109 zone, I do promise you that I will be here this time. I’m not letting you go that easily. So, you’re willing to let me back?” Sylus asked, making you chuckle

“Welcome to the real world, my world, Sylus” you said, getting on your tiptoe to give his cheek a kiss but instead, Sylus turned his head, held your neck and leaned for an actual kiss

A/N: Ngl, I was simping over my own writing of this. Where can we find an irl Sylus T^T

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hoiststowline · 3 months ago

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radio silence [w/ ultra magnus, ratchet, & sunstreaker]

ultra magnus isn't the fondest of communication via technology, but respects its resourcefulness in moments when he cannot speak with you physically. there are often times when he's knee deep in paperwork or too far distance-wise, and opts to check in with you at intervals when he knows school or work would not be an obstacle. he has your schedule committed to memory, and expects and even anticipates changes or unplanned events so when you do go radio silent, so he can justify it. you don't need to tell him where you are at all times, he isn't in charge of you, but appreciates your messages to say you'll have your phone off for an hour to study, or are heading to work.

however, most messages he sends are typically answered immediately by you, because of how few and far between they are. just checking up on you if he's been away from you for a prolonged stretch of time, when he has a moment to himself. now, he's decided to send you a text that he has returned to base and his mission has concluded, updating you accordingly. but you don't reply, leaving him to question if perhaps you've been caught up at class, or decided to pick up an extra shift at work.

he allows a two hour-grace period. magnus doesn't worry within these cycles, because things happen and he could never fault you for circumstances beyond your control. however, he'd had a long talk with you about the dangers of what lurks and associating with him, romantic or not, and if he doesn't know you're okay after those two hours, he's searching for you. about halfway to your house, you call him, some drowsy slurring to your tone. "you're not almost here, are you? I fell asleep, and I just woke up-" as long as he knows you're okay, but now he must account for unprecedented so-called 'naps', as it is finals week, so you kindly told him. "not a problem," he rumbles, relief flooding his words. "I'd still like to see you, if that is alright."

ratchet is less forgiving to radio silence, as most of his time is spent in front of a computer and is often flooded with your messages. you sometimes send him things that make no sense, swept up by exhaustion as you text him well into the night and into the early morning, until he threatens to block you so you can get some rest. he loves this way of communicating with you throughout the day, it's easiest to check up on you whilst at work or class, and you can respond whenever you have the chance to. he likes this form of communication, though nothing actually tops getting to speak to you in person.

he vaguely has an idea of your work/school schedule, though he trusts you are doing something productive when you aren't spamming his inbox. it's not out of disinterest, he understands better than anybody the importance of not hovering over his s/o, though with what he's kindred with, it leaves room for worry. some unwarranted radio silence is enough to escalate his concern regarding your health, and when your replies are either negligible or sparse, sorry not sorry, he's on his way to your place. ratchet will try calling you once, and that's your only chance to fess up and tell him just what is going on and why you were suddenly not answering his messages.

there is a short, but impatient grace period with ratchet. he knows you like the back of his hand and realizes when you aren't quite acting like yourself, whether that be lively, withdrawn, or somewhere in the middle. he convinces himself that something must be amiss or you are in some sort of trouble, and leaves no room for disagreement or input from others. he's taking matters into his own hands and coming to look for you, come hell or high water. though he doesn't vocally portray it in most cases, he is very protective over you and couldn't live with himself if something happened to you and he neglected the signs. he respects your boundaries but knows your character, and can gather context clues when something isn't quite right.

you sent sunstreaker your work/class schedule once, and he scoffed at it. he couldn't understand why you would assume he would ever need such thing, displaying disinterest by your offering. after you'd left that day, he saved the timetable to a data-pad and stored it in his subspace, never telling anybody about it because it was simply none of their business. especially you, you don't need to know that he secretly worries about your well-being now that you're tangled up with the autobots.

messaging with him isn't as frequent as it is with ratchet, but it's not as sparse as with magnus. you often have to initiate the conversation, [he has, but his typical messages are usually to ask what you're doing and if you wanted to go for a drive] but he will carry a rapport with you, never wanting you to feel as if he wasn't there for you. sunstreaker won't say it out loud, of course, so it must be conveyed through message in a cryptic method and just prays that you sympathize with his emotional constipation. in full agreement, he prefers to speak with you face-to-face, but he will take what he can get and he's totally fine with that. not really. if it was up to him, he'd be hanging around you all day long, but his schedule and yours prohibits that.

there is no grace period with sunstreaker. don't bother, if you've gone radio silence on him after a pretty steady conversation, he's already on the highway, headed straight for your house. he'll grumble about it and complain if nothing really is wrong, but he's the one who couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you must be injured or unwell to have stopped so suddenly. he understands that you get caught up in things, as he does frequently, but he'd promised to be transparent as long as you would be in return. messages like 'i'll be away for a bit' or 'talk to you asap' are very common between you two.

if the silence has gone on for a prolonged time, perchance he didn't get to check his inbox right away due to responsibilities and was replying to you late. but it isn't at an odd hour so, to him, there is no grounds for you to not answer within a reasonable time frame, a million to one scenarios are running through his processor. "why didn't you answer my message?" when you finally get the chance to call him, after getting hung up at work, he picks up on the first ring. following explaining why, he ex-vents but stifles his exasperation to ask about your day. as long as you were safe and sound, that's all that mattered.

#sul tf writes #transformers #maccadam #transformers idw #mtmte #transformers prime #ultra magnus #ratchet #sunstreaker #transformers x reader #transformers headcanons #ultra magnus x reader #ratchet x reader #sunstreaker x reader #ratchet transformers #sunstreaker transformers

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whatifitis · 5 months ago

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♡ It's time to go - FC 43 ♡

Summary: it's go time. franco's final race in f1 for the foreseeable future. you don't want to say goodbye, but is it really goodbye?

Author's Note: i'm tired and sad and i already miss him

WC: 1911

CW: angst? fluff? girl idk what this fic is anymore, mentions of his DNF eheh, happy ending 😚

You remember when you saw his face not long ago. You had met him at an F3 event and the two of you immediately hit it off and became so close in such a short amount of time. He was your favorite person and when you found out he was moving up to F1, you nearly broke glass with your scream.

For months, the two of you raced with, and against each other. There were ups and downs but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It was amazing, being able to go to work together and see each other all the time. The two of you were always spending time together in the paddock. For a minute, the world seemed so simple. But it’s gonna be over soon.

It’s the day of the final race of the season in Abu Dhabi, the final race with Franco, for god knows how long. Neither of you were ready to say goodbye. Sure, you would see each other every so often, but it wasn’t going to be the same. He wasn’t gonna be at every race with you, he wasn’t gonna be on track with you, he wasn’t going to be there after every race to walk you home.

You had already put on your race suit and made your way to the Williams garage to see Franco before heading over to your garage. When you arrived, you were greeted by a few of the mechanics and engineers. Across the room, you spotted Franco as he was going over some numbers for the race.

He felt you watching him, looking up and smiling when he saw you. Making his way over to you, he asked what you were doing there. “Just saying hi and good luck today. Also wanted to say I’m gonna miss you on the track. It’s been fun driving against you these past few months.” you say.

“It’s been a pleasure being able to share the track with you, y/n. I’m going to miss you as well. I’m not sure what’s in store for me but I do know that I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

You can’t help but blush at his words. You truly felt like Franco was one of the best things to happen to you. In such a short amount of time, he’s taught you so much and you’re the person you are today, because of him.

“Let’s make a deal. We promise to see each other at least once a month. I don’t want you to disappear, Fran.”

“I like that deal. And, I’m not afraid to disappear. My dream was always to make it to Formula 1, and I made it. The one thing I wanted all my life was all mine for a short time. But now it’s time for me to go. If I don’t get the chance to come back to Formula 1 then so be it. The birds will still sing and the leaves will still die. Nothing will change.”

“Everything’s going to change. Who’s gonna make the whole grid laugh? Who’s gonna yap everyone’s ear off? Who’s gonna flirt with all the interviewers?” you ask, laughing to try and prevent the tears from rolling, “Who’s gonna be there to hold my hand and tell me it’s gonna be okay when things go to shit? Who’s gonna put a smile on my face everyday? I don’t want my favorite person to leave.” your tears are falling now.

Franco’s face falls when he sees how much love you hold for him, he quickly pulls you into a hug that makes you grab onto him so tight so that he doesn’t slip through your fingers.

“Don’t worry. I know I’ll see you again. You’re gonna win races, beat the competition out of the water. And I’ll still be here by your side, even if it’s not physically. We’re gonna call and text all the time, you’re gonna keep me updated on all the drama in the paddock, especially the drama between George and Max. And you’re gonna become a champion. Okay?” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back to try and help you calm the tears.

“You changed my life, Franco. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend in the paddock, or in general. Please don’t be a stranger.” “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. You’re the greatest thing in my life, butterfly. I don’t think I can live without you now that I know what it’s like to have you here.”

“You’ll make me cry when it comes to an end.” The tears are fully streaming down your face now. Your heart aches not knowing when you’ll be able to race with him again. You breathe him in and fight the tears.

Alex clears his throat behind the two of you, trying to get your attention. The two of you pull apart and wipe away the tears, looking at Alex as he stands there awkwardly, “Just wanted to let you guys know we have to get ready to get in the cars soon. Bye.” he says, walking away with a small wave.

Franco and you shared a little laugh before looking at each other and nodding your heads. You reach a hand out for Franco to shake, and he does. “One last time.” you say.

“One last time.”

-=+=-

Everyone fought hard on the track today. Unfortunately, your engineer told you that Franco had to retire the car during the race. When you heard those words, you just shook your head in disappointment. You were insanely proud of Franco and of how far he’s come, but he got stuck with an awful car. His last race shouldn’t have ended like that.

But like your engineer said, there was nothing you could do. All you could do now was keep pushing and try and score points for the team. You overtook some cars and now you were approaching the end. You were 2 seconds behind Charles and you were pushing the car to the limit. You kept inching closer and closer to Charles and when you entered a DRS zone, you and Charles fought hard. You pushed and pushed until you finally made it. You ended the race in P3.

“Congrats, P3. You did amazing this season, y/n. I’m proud of what we’ve done this season and can’t wait to go again next year. Until then, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you.” you hear through your radio. Your engineer has been amazing through the years and has helped you in tremendous ways.

“Thanks, man. This season was hectic and tough but we pulled through. Thank you to the team, the engineers and mechanics who have spent countless hours making the car what it is. They did an amazing job and I’m thankful. Here’s to next year.” you say as you make your way to parking your car.

You get out of the car and are immediately greeted by Carlos and Lando, all of you congratulating each other on everything. You saw your team on the side and ran to hug and high-five them and give them a few more thanks. You’re going down the line when you spot Franco there, absolutely shouting his head off.

Immediately, you run to him and hug him. You can barely hear him through your helmet and the cheers all around but you make out his words, “I’m so proud of you. This isn’t the end, yeah?”

“Yeah, never the end.”

You let go and make your way to the cool down room and prepare for the podium.

When you are called out for the podium, you walk out and smile wide. You’re proud of yourself and the team that helped get you here. You stand tall and look at your team, beaming with pride. They’re all watching you, watching how you hold your head up high despite all the shit that gets thrown at you. In the middle of the crowd, you can see Franco. He’s still cheering for you and you see him scream “That’s my girl.” Causing everyone to turn their heads in confusion. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene as Franco is giving no fucks and keeps smiling up at you.

After the podium celebration and post-race interview, you made your way to your garage and you were engulfed with hugs and cheers from the crew. Horner walked up to you and thanked you for the season and that he’s excited for next year. After a ton of pictures, you were able to get a minute to breathe and change out of your race suit.

You had just finished putting on your shoes when you heard a knock on the door. You open the door and are greeted by a happy Franco. “Hi”

“Hi, come in.” you say as you open the door wider for him. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the Williams garage right now.”

“I was in there but I wanted to come see you for a minute. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” your anxiety begins to take over, it’s written all over your face and Franco spots it.

“Oh no, don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. I, um, I have something to confess. Over the time we’ve known each other, I’ve started to notice how happy you make me. I have been too scared to admit it, to you, to myself, but this feeling is something that I want to keep chasing, feeding it more and more every time I look at you, every time I hear your laugh or make your cheeks blush. I was way too scared to admit it, but I want more than to just race by your side on the track. I want to be by your side in life, I want to share my days and every moment with you. I don’t know if you feel the same, but I would be stupid to continue to ignore what I feel, because I’ve never felt something as strong as the love that wraps around my heart whenever I am with you. It’s like you’ve taken over my mind. I wanna tell the whole world about you.”

You could feel tears brimming your eyes, as if you haven’t cried enough today. You grab his hands, feeling his soft touch on yours. Eyes meeting as you smile up at him. Without a word, you lean in and kiss him softly. Your hearts are leaping in a giddy whirl. He’s frozen at first, until he lets in, realizing that he truly loves you so.

When you pull apart, Franco is left breathless. He can’t believe that just happened. He finally got the girl of his dreams?

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close to you, “I hope you know there’s no chance I’m ever letting you go, now that I have you. You’re stuck with me for life. We’ll grow old together, and then if we turn into a tree, I’ll be the leaves.”

“There’s no one I’d rather spend eternity with. You’re the number one girl in my eyes and nothing will ever change that. I’m in love with you and it’s a feeling I want to show.”

It was moments like these that reminds you that sometimes, the heart races faster than the car.

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto angst #franco colapinto fluff

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hyukascampfire · 5 months ago

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── ˓꒰ the tropes and members for the 12 days of christmas! ꒱٫

˓ ࣪ ( 📜 ) find a spot by the fireplace! join the event taglist here.

a partridge in a pear tree: santa!soobin gets caught by reader

two turtle doves: krampus!yeonjun & krampus!beomgyu who are assigned to a very sweet, very naughty reader, and it's their job to punish her for it this year!

three french hens: reindeer!hyuka gets left behind by santa and reader is forced to help him out!!

four calling birds: snowman!hyuka who comes to life after being built by an art student, chubby!reader hehe

five golden rings: husband!soobin comes home from a long day at work to his family on christmas eve & asks for a baby for christmas

six geese a-laying: yandere!taehyun, who's been watching reader for a while now, finally finds his opening when reader vacations to a secluded cabin for christmas, and is bailed on by her friends

seven swans a-swimming: black swan prince!beomgyu, based off swan lake w/ forbidden romance and so much longing

eight maids a-milking: snowball fight ft!ot5, beomgyu x reader so cutesy so fun

nine ladies dancing: gingerbread!taehyun and frosty puff reader who absolutely cannot stand each other are forced into proximity, and, well.. chubby!reader & buff!tyun

ten lords a-leaping: best friend! yeonjun and reader get snowed in during an argument and, with nowhere to go, are forced to reckon with it.

eleven pipers piping: jack frost!yeonjun who takes great interest in reader... hehe

twelve drummers drumming: reader's christmas party is ruined by iced over roads, until sweet hyuka shows up with gifts despite it! things get a little convoluted once the mistletoe comes into play, though.

how do we feel about them? :3 i love your big beautiful brains. (i’ll update the main masterlist in a bit hehe i’m writing for right now!)

#꒰🥮꒱ ࣭ ٫ 𝒜𝘚𝘏𝘓𝘠𝘕𝘕’𝘚 ⒓ 𝒟𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝒪𝘍 𝒞𝘏𝘙𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘔𝘈𝘚 #heehehe here you areee which are you most excited for? mine is def swan lake #txt christmas #txt fic #txt smut #txt fanfiction #txt fanfic #txt ff #yeonjun smut #soobin smut #taehyun smut #beomgyu smut #hueningkai smut

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showf4lls · 1 year ago

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ɞ ― make a home in you; chuckle sandwich

cw + info! fluff, headcanons / no CWs

includes! ted nivison + charlie slimecicle + jschlatt

dedication! @ivyinnit

notes! i’m currently trying to get over a breakup and am kind of struggling w yearning atmo so this request (while old) was kind of perfect thank you for dropping into my askbox, ivy!! little update: it’s been so long since i’ve received this request, i know. it should’ve been easy to get it out quickly, but school absolutely melted me this semester. i know that ivy’s deactivated now, but in the case that she comes across it, i hope you enjoy beloved <3

TED

⎼ y’all schedule out laundry days together. it’s cute as fuck okok

⎼ forehead and cheek kisses while you’re on your way out the door

⎼ if he wakes up before you, he makes your morning drink of choice just the way you like it! though, he prefers to sleep in with you

⎼ if you don’t have any important plans for the day and you’ve set alarms just for the sake of waking up at a certain time, he turns them all off before you wake up. he wants to give you an opportunity to rest as much as you need to; your body will wake up when it’s ready

⎼ brunch dates! while you guys prefer to sleep in together, you alternate between sleeping in and waking up at a reasonable hour depending on your plans. ted really likes taking you out to brunch and just walking around window shopping with you after

⎼ if either of you are going somewhere important, the other will help them get ready and run through a mental checklist with them before they go in order to make sure the person leaving has absolutely everything they need

⎼ y’all are constantly doing bits. it’s kind of confusing for your friends, but neither of you care much because you’re just having a great time

⎼ ted is an absolute gentleman always, not just in the honeymoon phase. constantly opening doors for you, helping you put your sweater on when you’re leaving the house, opening the car door for you. stuff like that

⎼ he rubber ducks for you a lot. just sits down near you and listens, letting you work out your issues by talking it out without feeling awkward about it

⎼ he’s just overall a great listener and very in-tune with your needs. only gives advice and input when you ask for it, but he always makes an effort to validate your feelings. holds you when you need him to and steps back when he senses that you need space. also really good at problem solving and helping out when you get overwhelmed or have sensory overload

– when you have bad days, he has a tendency to go above and beyond. he cooks dinner for you, makes sure your comfy clothes are all washed and clean, and generally just makes sure you have to do as little as possible so that you have the proper space to calm down

CHARLIE

– you guys have rapid fire joke contests together, usually late at night when you’re sitting on kitchen counters, snacking. you go back and forth until either the two of you are laughing so hard that it would be physically impossible to keep going, or someone can’t come up with a joke fast enough

– you try to stay on the sleep cycle but you both tend to get a little out of whack every once in a while, so you have these phases of going to sleep at a decent hour and then going to sleep when the sun is about to come up

– as such, you guys have these phases of making spontaneous runs to the grocery store or gas station to get snacks, usually cereal for some reason. you get whatever you want and charlie never lets you pay for any of it. on the later nights, you guys sometimes experiment with new flavors of things or weird snack combinations

– he has a thing about always making sure you’re warm enough. you’re a little chilly? he’s pulling his sweater off and pulling it over your head. once you’re all comfy and settled, he’s on his way to turn on the heater. your feet are cold? he’s running to get you a pair of fuzzy socks and a blanket in case your legs are cold too. even when you’re about to leave the house -- it’s colder than 50 outside? he’s scrambling around the house, gathering gloves and scarves and beanies for you to take with you in case you get cold, even if they don’t match. no other options but you’re still cold? mans is wrapping himself around you, trying to use his body heat to warm you up himself. he hates when you’re chilly and uncomfortable :[

– brings you home little presents all the time. literally anything that remind him of you. you have a collection of buttons and keychains that he’s seen while walking through shops. he also steals cool props from videos and projects to give to you. you have a little collection going

– loves pda all the time, but not always cuddling (which can sound confusing, but let me explain). he likes casual pda with you around the house, whether it be you resting your feet in his lap while you both lounge across the couch, sitting on the floor and leaning back on his legs while you watch a movie, him putting a hand on the small of your back while he moves around/behind you, holding onto your hand until you’ve walked out of reach, gently pressing his knuckles into your back while you’re laying on the other side of the bed and facing away from him. likes to be touching you when he can be but in little ways that aren’t super overwhelming (mostly because i feel like you’d both be too fidgety to just cuddle)

– some of your most domestic moments are spent in the kitchen, usually cooking dinner together. it’s light and warm and it feels so much like home that you sometimes find yourself questioning if it’s all real. he’s right there to tell you it is. but back to dinner. he loves cooking for you, and you love cooking for him. it’s all laughter and winding down from work days and gentle hugs and swaying together as he hums for you

SCHLATT

– it’s a little hard to find domestic moments with schlatt off the top of your head, but they’re there when you look for them. they’re quiet, but they’re ever present

– he sleeps a lot, meaning that you usually wake up before him. if he’s sleeping light enough to hear you get up, he’ll roll over, half asleep, wrap his arms around your middle, and pull you back into his chest, mumbling a groggy “ten more minutes, babe. i’ll be up then, jus’ ten more minutes.” it’s never just ten more minutes

– he picks you up and carries you around a lot. not in the typical way. if he thinks you’re working yourself too hard, he’ll grab you from your desk and throw you over his shoulder, dropping you onto the couch and forcing you to watch a movie with him. or you’ll be sleepily making yourself a snack in the kitchen and he’ll grab you from behind, just wrapping his arms around your middle and picking you up. he carries you, complaining and squirming, the whole way to your room and tells you it’s nap time

– you guys have a lot of nap dates. it’s an easy, sweet block of time for you guys to spend together, hazy and together while napping on and off. if one of you wakes up, you get to fondly watch the other nap until you fall asleep again. watch the easy rise and fall of their chest, run a hand through their hair, trace gentle patterns on their skin, play with their fingers, listen to the beating of your heart

– you do the dishes together. you wash and schlatt dries. sometimes you get into towel fights or start flicking water at each other with your fingers

– schlatt follows you out of bed when you get up in the middle of the night. he’d never admit it, but he has a hard time sleeping without you. he hates waking up to a cold bed. so when the clock blinks 3:17 and he feels around to find nothing beside him, even if your side of the bed is still warm, he huffs and gets up. pads through the house with puffy, tired eyes until he finds you. wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your head. “what are you doin’ outta bed?” he never waits for your response, just starts ushering you back to your room

– really likes seeing you in his clothes, again, not that he would ever admit it. he’ll purposely “forget” to do your laundry so that you have to start wearing his hoodies, tee shirts, sweats, etc. it just gives him the warm fuzzies, seeing you be so comfortable and cozy in his clothes

– hangs on you a lot on days when there’s nothing to do. he’s pretty idle about it, too, kind of like a character accessory. sometimes you just have to go around the house doing your stuff with this big man hanging off of you because you don’t have the heart to tell him to leave you alone for an hour or two to get your work done

#✩; yours truly #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #ted nivison x reader #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich fic #ted nivison fluff #ted nivison headcanons #slimecicle fluff #charlie slimecicle fluff #charlie slimecicle fic #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fluff #chuckle sandwich x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months ago

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Male reader who’s Ra’s immortal enemies- to lovers- to friends - to annoyances - to married - to divorced - to friends - to I’ve known you for so long that I could stab you and I’d peck you on the cheek and you’d stab me with the same knife and kiss me till I pass out.

Kinda like Gomez and Morticia but Male reader is called grandma as a joke but after 3 centuries it kinda just stuck so he checks up on the league every 2 decades only to find Ra’s in a fight with the bats and just kinda gets a chair and watches before Dusan or Talia comes and says “MOTHER-!?” “Oh hey I brought snacks”

Oh my God, this sounds great. Lets do it. I may also added Damian calling the reader grandma. I just wanted to.

Summary: (Y/N) and Ra's know each other for a long time.

Warnings: both are a power couple, I swear, mentions of killing, stabbing each other, loving one another, a whole lot of relationships with this.

(Y/N) and Ra's al Ghul go a very long way back. Extremely long. About 400 years to be more specific. The two started off as enemies. And since the two were essentially immortal with the Lazarus pit. The two have killed each other more times they could count. It was stress relief almost for them both.

And they enjoyed the games they have played. Hunting each other down, trying to kill the other, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not to mention, the bragging rights from (Y/N)'s side. It's no easy feat to kill Ra's al Ghul. And Ra's would strike back. It's a good way to get some stress out, just like said before.

But over time, something else grew and the two became lovers, loving each other fiercely. It was a love story for the ages, as the two would joke. In modern terms, they would be a true power couple. Both of them strong in their own right and if they are separated, they can both hold on their own. And if together?

True meaning of terror and fear in their world.

And they were a power couple for a long time.

But sooner than later, love started to fizzle out. And while they were married, they became friends. It was nice to have a friend in Ra's, despite being a killer and everything in between. Ra's is a loyal friend, the one who wouldn't betray you for anything. That's what (Y/N) knew at least. Of course, that same courtesy came from (Y/N).

Safe to say, the two were loyal to each other to the bone.

And even when they entered that stage of being purely and utterly annoyed with each other, they were still loyal to the bone to each other. It was rare to find a person like that, whom you could annoy to the point of stabbing each other. Which has happen before.

(Y/N) on his knees, Ra's holding a knife implanted in (Y/N)'s stomach, both of them smiling at each other. Even kissing each other while the knife was in one of them. Talk about twisted love. (Y/N) and Ra's have been through a lot and one of the things he remembers vividly is Talia's birth. And it was one of his favorite memories. He may or may have not cried when he held Talia for the first time. It is something that has officially ingrained into his brain.

He got called mother as a result. He didn't like it at first, however, it grew on him. Soon enough, it became an inside joke and he couldn't really be mad at it. It was something... It felt like home, (Y/N) would say.

Soon enough, (Y/N) started travelling, using Ra's' money to do so? Why? Ra's has enough of it already and travelling in the best hotels in the world wouldn't make a dent in his pocket. Never has and it never will. Ra's simply handed him the credit card with a smile and a kiss.

" Go wherever your heart desires beloved. "

And he did.

He travelled a lot, seeing the world, doing what his heart desired. Of course, he stayed in contact with Ra's and Talia during his travels. He would share updates about what he saw and learned. However, he came back once he heard that his daughter was pregnant. He was essentially going to be a grandfather.

Well, he would be a grandmother as the joke from years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. And it bit him hard. While Talia's pregnancy progressed, she would often talk to the baby, talking about how he will met grandmother (Y/N). And how did (Y/N) react?

He simply scoffed, saying it's too early in the day to deal with this. It would make Talia chuckle and Ra's would smirk, enjoying the sight of his husband getting teased.

Yes, husband.

They decided to remarry because the feelings have returned to romantical ones, they were no longer platonic. They would be back to spending time together, sitting on the balcony, sipping their wines and holding hands as they were watching the sunset. It felt just like old times.

And yes, he was present when Damian was born. He may or may have not cried in private. What can he say, he just felt like he had a family. Ra's was happy too, with an heir worthy of taking over the League. Of course, the father being Bruce Wayne, Damian is more than worthy of being the Leader once Ra's no longer there.

Once Damian turned 9, (Y/N) went back to travelling the world. He enjoyed it.

It's been years since he came back from the travel. The League was oddly quiet. (Y/N) didn't think much of it and came back to take a break, bringing food and gifts for everyone. He didn't expect to see a fight breaking out, but he has decided to stand by and watch. He was too jet lagged to even think about fighting. So he waited as he ate, completely entranced into the fight. Ra's fought with ferocity against Batman.

Talia was busy with the 4 birds, Damian included. He watched his daughter fighting, impressed by her skills. Ra's has taught her very well. He took a chair and then sat down to watch. Both Ra's and Talia fought with ferociousness, using every tactic they could remember to fight off the Bats as the family was called that to shorten it up.

And (Y/N) found the nickname really funny. He leaned back into the chair, watching in fascination.

" Mother?! " Talia exclaimed, making everyone freeze.

" Grandmother?! " Damian exclaimed, but from excitement. Damian didn't see him for a long time and Talia hadn't expected him to come back yet.

Damian run to him and (Y/N) gave him a hug. He missed his grandson and once he heard that he was in Gotham, he had an urge to visit. But God only knows how Bruce would have reacted. He probably wouldn't have let in anyhow. And despite (Y/N) being an Al Ghul, he has enough respect to not break into the Manor. And he didn't want to make a bad impression on his unofficial son in law.

" Hello Damian. How are you doing? " (Y/N) asked Damian, while everyone else watched.

" I've been doing well. And you grandmother? "

" Is that really still stuck? Call me grandpa. Not grandmother. "

" I prefer grandmother. "

" Of course you do. A Robin suit? Nice. I hope Bruce is treating you well. Otherwise I'll have to turn on my protective mode, " (Y/N) said to Damian, who actually chuckled.

" I'm doing well in Gotham. "

" Good. Good... Also, I might come to visit soon. " The last part was directed at Bruce and (Y/N) wasn't going to take no for an answer. His grandson comes first. Alongside his daughter.

" Now, fighting is over. I'm jet lagged beyond belief so I would kindly ask the birds and the big bat to leave. Fight in a few weeks, I don't care. Right now, some peace and quiet sounds good, " (Y/N) has declared, making Ra's smirk.

" Of course beloved. Anything for you. " Ra's said and (Y/N) nodded, happy to have his way after the stupid jet lag.

" Good. Also, nice to meet you the rest of the birds, but I have no time to chat. " (Y/N) took his things into his hands and then left to his shared bedchambers with Ra's.

#dc comics #x male reader #dc x male reader #ra's al ghul x male reader

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ts19009 · 1 year ago

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Seventeen Fic Rec's Part 3

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: September 22nd, 2024)

OT13

seventeen as teachers @fairyhaos

seventeen as dads headcanons @bbyobbyo

Back to School with Seventeen (Seventeen TA Collab! Take a look at our Course Options collated by your favourite writers, taught by your favourite members!) @camandemstudios

Seventeen's reaction to you asking them for a baby @j0shuasw1fey

Tales from Camp Masterlist (Thirteen friends reconnect on a camping trip, reminiscing about their times as camp counselors when they were in college.) @kwanisms

✤ Losing It. (masterpost) ✤ (A series of having virginities given to you. Sometimes they throw said virginity at you with full force, other times, they lovingly hold your hand, bat their lashes, and say some of the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard a man say in regards to getting laid for the first time. ) @ncteez

Kim Mingyu

kmg x reader: healing comes in small doses masterlist (husband! dad! kim mingyu x afab! mom!reader) @tomodachiii

Food Wars pt. 1 (You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot) @beomcoups

Crossing the Finish Line (Winning is the only thing that matters, except if you're raising money for a charity event with an infuriatingly good-looking swimmer.) @mr-cha-n

Statistically Speaking... (TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise) @gyuswhore

Always // oneshot (Sometimes, one man's burden is everything another man has ever wished for.) @spamgyu

When I Kissed the Teacher (science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee) @highvern

Read All About It (Anonymous Life and Sex writer, Not Carrie Bradshaw, takes on a 30-day challenge with her boyfriend, Min. How wild fans would go to find out they're none other than Kim Mingyu and his girlfriend?) @highvern

Hot Wheels [M] (Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+) @milfgyu

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni) @wonustars

There's a snake in my pants (Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu]) @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Cross My Heart (Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.) @minisugakoobies

Like A Cowboy Part 2 of 4 (Mingyu only needs to wake up with you once to decide he'll do whatever is necessary to do it every day; even if it means letting you help him outside and figuring out how to help you inside, it's worth it.) @sluttywoozi

Let our lips lock, baby (Friends to lovers smut. Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Birthday boy Gyu <3) @whipped-for-kpop-fics

I can do it for you (After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.) @hoshifighting

here and now. (secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship) @writingmeraki

Jeon Wonwoo

into the night | jeon wonwoo (when you call wonwoo late at night telling him you're stranded, he drops everything to make his way to you (and bring you home safe)) @etherealyoungk

CLOSER (f2l!wonwoo, softdom!wonwo) @hannieehaee

HER | part six (m). (wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.) @chocosvt (HOLY SHIT, THIS SERIES HAD ME CRYING. SNAPS TO THIS AMAZING WRITER!)

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 (though it didn’t bother wonwoo that his girl wasn’t a gamer like him, he was over the moon when one day she proudly declared she started gaming. one thing he forgot to ask - what kind of games she was playing.) @babyleostuff

knight in shining armor (non-idol! wonwoo x f!reader) @heartsfromia

endpoint (Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.) @highvern

heads up! stardew. they r gaming. @nonranghaes

Cookies and Cream (academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)) @seokgyuu

April Shower (Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.) @sluttywoozi

HEAVEN (wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.) @sanakiras

Patterns (Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?) @highvern

Daylight (between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.) @moonscriptsx

✦ sugar & spice (bodyguard!wonwoo x celebrity!reader) @etherealyoungk

Hong Jisoo

New in the Suburbs – New Neighboor! Joshua @hoshifighting

distracted (husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship) @eomayas

SUMMER KISSES (joshua coming home is a pleasant surprise) @arafilez

richhusband!joshua headcannons (just some headcons, but i'm obsessed with them) @number1mingyustan

still the one (5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!) @bratzkoo

city lights series | joshua hong (M) [ongoing] (rock singer joshua, neighbours with benefits) @hannieween

best friend’s brother (This had me crying ugly tears. its my fav) (imestep, romance, angsty angst, major feels abt having a crush, lots of flirting, smut, drama, happy tears.) @chocosvt

not according to plan | hjs (fake dating, strangers to friends to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut) @the-boy-meets-evil

Expiration Date (2/2) (artist!joshua x model!fem!reader) @number1mingyustan

Birds of a Feather ( joshua hong x f reader) @onlymingyus

Timestamp! Aquamarine Au! @mysafehaneul

on second thought (where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?) @the-boy-meets-evil

Yoon Jeonghan

BITE (idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, afab reader, small age gap implied, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is mentioned to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.) @hannieehaee

building blocks | yjh (agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.) @the-boy-meets-evil (OBSESSED WITH THESE TA SERIES)

"lovie" (all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname) @cherryredcheol

Titty-Shirt! (18+) (pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader) @beefboyandbabygirl

love café (while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not) @chocosvt

five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan (how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages) @p0ckykiss

Xu Minghao

Meet Me In Amsterdam (Artist!Minghao x Artist!Fem!Reader) @okiedokrie

GOODNIGHT N GO (idol!minghao x hybeidol!reader) @hannieehaee

To all the love letters I wrote but never sent (fluff, best friends to lovers) @welcometomyoasis

Birthday Gift l Xu Minghao (It's your birthday and Minghao wants to give you your present!) @jenoslutie

Lee Seokmin

through a different lens — l.sm (meet cute, strangers to something) @miniseokminnies

after dessert (just pure smut lol, but it was good XD) @xurengu0

behind the stands (Seokmin, Gryffindor's star chaser, is widely known as your rival. What everyone doesn't know is that before every game, his lips are always on yours.) @xurengu0

Beautiful Liar (mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.) @starlightx

Epistolary Yearning (epistolary form, historical fantasy, romance | smut) @himbocoups

Nice Guys Finish First (After a first date with the sweetest man you've ever met, thanks to a mutual friend, you're more than willing to silence his doubts and show him how sexy he was to you.) @celestiababie

midnight rain | lsm (after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way.) @wongyuuu

#joshua hong smut #joshua x y/n #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo #wonwoo smut

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