#i-i-i will write a longer post for sure i just.... need to *screams* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

impeccablebackside · 1 year

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It had been a while, but the idea of bending Rumple in half and making her whimper was not on Mungo's mind as much as it could have been. Of course, fucking her would be the best thing he could possibly ask for, but he truthfully has had other things to think about. Sometimes life just gets busy, and they go long(er) periods between frantic sessions. The ball was coming up, but he realistically did not need much preparation for it. Every year him and Rumple caused their usual brand of chaos, and they had performed their song countless times now.

In the end, they have always made up for dry spells, and he reminds himself that he is patient enough to wait for his treat. His queen knows just how to reward such good behavior, and he cannot help but drop everything to please her needs when she calls his name in such an alluring way. Just the thought of her sounds and body keeps him going most days.

Walking back to their shared den after a spirited morning of lovingly bothering whoever he crossed paths, Mungo was planning on a quieter afternoon of rest before getting up to the usual shenanigans of his nights. Entering into their little private space, he is surrounded by all of the stuff he has stolen and kept away. Walls full of glittering jewelry, floors full of soft cushions, with one centralized catbed in the middle of it all.

Expecting to come home to an empty den, he is a bit surprised to find Rumple rustling around inside. As per usual, she is her excited self, humming along to herself as she wiggles around and fiddles with things. It takes a moment, but Mungo realizes that she is wearing her song costume, which catches him off-guard. She usually only wears it during the ball or when they are practicing their song together. Standing in the entrance, he just watches her as she quietly dances around, taking in the sight of her.

Mungo is a pretty simple tom when it comes to things that turn him on, but there is something about the costume that drives him wild. Perhaps it is the significance of it, where they both have near magical sex post ball, perhaps it is the way garters and stockings show off her legs, perhaps the way the leotard squeezes her in all the right places and shows off her perfect ass. Maybe it is just all of those things together, and the fact that he thinks she is stunning to begin with. The costume just adds some extra spice. Her ass though, he thinks as he stares, watching it jiggle a bit with every little move. Maybe that is just it.

"It's about time you showed up. Are ya just going to sit there like a moron?" The words jolt him out of his trance, unfortunately really. Given the surprised look on his face, Rumple continues, "Did you honestly forgot Mungo? C'mon you know we have to practice before the ball. It is literally in a few days!" It suddenly dawns on him. The ball is indeed just a couple of days away. It must have just slipped his mind.

"Oh alright, you little pain in the ass. How come you didn't remind me? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?"

"You big orange dope, we're both the smart ones! Look at all this stuff we've stole. You think two dumbasses like us could get this without some whisper of intelligence. What do you take us for?" she blurts with a giggle. The way she smiles, along with the look of fierceness in her bright green eyes, always makes Mungo get flustered. Somehow, at least once a week, they have the same little argument, and they always reach the same conclusion.

"Well, I uh, yeah you are right. Have I ever told you that you are also the beauty behind these operations?" he stammers, trying to sound suave. It is not very effective.

"At least once a week, but I never get tired of hearing it. Now get ready and get yer crap on," she says beckoning to him and his costume with respective paws.

Slipping it on quickly, Mungo is ready to roll. They share a glance before speaking at the same time, "Well c'mon now, let's get on with it." Laughing at the other, they assume their starting position. Running through it, they dance their entire routine up until their cartwheel multiple times, singing each part as if they are professionals. In a way, they are. Moving together as if they share the same mind. Having gone through it enough times, they start to joke around, belting out random names while singing. Mungo introduces himself as Scharrelnelis and Burma Charley, while Rumple yelps out Tingl-Tangl and Lorrenjopie. Trying out-do one another, they end up in fits of giggles and end up stopping. "Tingl-Tangl? What the hell does that even mean Teazer?"

Which is met with, "I think its better than Burma Charley! How do you even come up that?"

Breathless from all the practicing and laughing, they take a few moments to rest. Slapping her shoulder lightly, Mungo nods to his queen, "Best be doing some of those razzle dazzle cartwheels now."

"Alright, alright. Only a few though. I want to save some energy for later tonight," she nods back.

They roll through two sets, a spectacular array of arms and legs working as a solid unit. On the third run though, they get as far as Rumple leaping into Mungo arms before she stops. "Oh damnit, ran out of steam," loosening up her body in his arms. She is hanging upside down, her legs up past her tom's head. Mungo holds her there, unsure about what to do next. She had never stopped like that, and he finds it sort of fun to have a hold on her like that. "You can put me down whenever ya like y'know," she yells up to him.

The words fly past his ears, as at that point, Mungo is starting to get a better idea of what he wants to do instead. With a near face full of Rumple's pussy and ass, his needs have crept up and washed over him hard. Feeling something brush against her thighs, Rumple is startled by the feeling of Mungo rubbing his face into her center, letting out a quick gasp. With messy kisses and licks, he fights against the fabric protecting his prize. He can feel and smell the warmth of her, and he is determined to get his taste. Taking a few steps forward, he gently throws her down onto the edge of their shared bed. He stands over her, watching. The hunger in his eyes and the way he is licking his lips is a huge turn-on for Rumple. She wants to be lusted after, but in control, the object of unwavering desire for her partner.

She looks up at him, "Oh no, did my special guy miss this?" her paws running along her thighs, claws pulling little lines in her fur. No matter what, she cannot help but tease him.

Mungo just nods his head over and over, "Please."

Mimicking their song, she hops up onto her bottom and spreads her legs, reaching out with her right arm. "Well, I guess I cannot let ya wait to have 'dinner' tomorrow then," she says, giving him a mischievous eyebrow raise. Inviting him in to close the gap between them, when he is within reach, she grabs him by his croptop and pulls him downward with force. It has been a while for Rumple too, and she needs it now. Keeping her hold on the tom with one paw, she pulls her costume aside with the other, revealing her beautiful pussy. Giving it a rub, she slides two fingers up and down between her lips before spreading herself open. She is glistening wet, and ready for more. "Now," she commands, pulling his head down until he is forced to kneel to match the level of her hips.

With a big dumb smile, he says, "Alright, I guess it's too late to say to keep yer pants on. What's it that the owners always say? Bon Appétit or something like that?" the last words coming out in a cheesy French accent before he gives her heat a little lick and kiss.

"I swear to the Everlasting Cat, if ya don't shut up and -," she is cut off. Mungo, pent up from the dry spell and this lead up, cannot start slow. He dives in deep with his tongue, lapping her up with a vigorous pacing. "Oh fuuuck, right there. Oh god Jerrie, keep going," Rumple purrs. She slips her fingers through the messier fur on his head, gripping hold to keep his head between her legs. His technique is incredible, putting his noteworthy mouth to a different use. Rumple whines as he explores her pussy, kissing and sucking at her clit and folds with messy eagerness. He needs his queen to know how much he wants her to feel loved and happy, chasing her approval.

Drowned out by Rumple's louder whines, Mungo moans along as he eats her out. Even being the giver is still filling him with so much pleasure that he must let it out. Almost constantly vocal at the best of times, he has a hard time reigning in his excitement during sex. Little reverberations ripple through his lips and tongue as he hums against her. Everything is so good, and she tastes so heavenly, and her cries are golden, and her body is immaculate, and Mungo is just trying his best. Keeping his face buried in her pussy, he needs something to take the pressure of. His cock is throbbing for attention, so he quietly brings a paw down and jerks himself while continuing, never breaking his stride. It feels so good to be where he is.

"You're such a good boy to take care of me, my love," Teazer says between gasps. She is more breathy than he anticipates, but the meaning of her words hit him hard. Praise from her pretty mouth is more rewarding than anything, and he is even more determined to prove himself. He abandons his quest for release, bringing both arms around Rumple's waist to anchor himself and pull her even closer. Focusing on her most sensitive spot, he takes aim her clit, which gets louder whines out of his queen. Her paws fling out beside her, claws digging into the soft bed as she braces herself. Her legs flail around his shoulders before pressing themselves against his ears. Not long after he doubled down his efforts, Rumple squeals as she cums on his tongue. Her body tightens up as she rides out the first climax of the day, eventually relaxing while Mungo still licks away, never quite satiated with getting a taste of her.

Pushing his head away, she needs a moment to regain herself. Severing the connection gets a sad whimper from Mungo, but he knows better than to grovel for long. He straightens his back, still on his knees, waiting out for more. Rumple pulls her legs up to her ears, slowly spreading them apart, "You look like you're in a daze, c'mere and fuck me like ya deserve it." It does not take any extra time for him to rationalize it, leaping up onto his feet and grabbing her at the ankles, pulling her legs open. The look on Rumple's face is one of joyous excitement and frisky desire, and she squirms in place with anticipation. Bringing his hips against hers, he slides his cock along the outside of her pussy, enjoying the sight of her begging. He is not the only one who can tease a bit.

"Show me how much you want me," he says, pausing at her entrance. Rumple lets out a sultry purr, trying to sound more composed than she is feeling. Helpless in that position, she can only watch and wait.

With a swift thrust, he fucks into her, eliciting a mewl of approval. He is not so big, but fills her up just enough to make them both gasp. It is the greatest experience in the world for him. She is so soft and tight, and the warm feeling of her around him is utter bliss. Normally, he would start slower, but he is desperate for her body. Desperate to hear her whine. Desperate to get more praise from his love. There is no rhythm or plan in mind. He just needs her. With frenetic thrusts, he fucks her over and over again. Pounding her with fast and deep strokes, his mind is clouded by his lust. "Oh heaviside Jerrie! Ahh!" is all that escapes her mouth in loud cries. Easing the grip on her legs, he drops them down and leans over her, pushing more weight into his fucking. He moans to himself, groaning with each push of his hips, but only he is aware. On the receiving end, Rumple no longer can compose herself, her whines turning into near deafening wails. She tries to silence her yelps, bringing a paw in front of her mouth, but it is no use. She is not sure if Mungo has fucked her this hard before, and it is definitely worthy of the entire junkyard knowing about it. He is so eager to please her that he is unable to think about anything other than hearing her whine louder. His own pleasure is taking a backseat to her needs, and he would not have it any other way.

Mungo can feel his love clench more and more around his length as he continues on, and based on how her sounds are becoming more incomprehensible as he goes on, she is not far from a glorious orgasm. Neither is he, but the buzz in his mind is so deep that he can only fuck with feral intent. He has been forceful enough that he has pushed Rumple to the middle of their bed in his pursuits. Grunting, Mungo slinks up onto his knees, wraps his arms around each of her legs, and pulls her hips up. Frantically trying to deepen his penetration, he repeatedly gives her everything he can. Burying his length into her with enough vigour that his balls slap against her asshole. It all becomes too much for her, and with a leg shaking quiver and ear piercing high squeal, Rumple cums again. The climax ripples through her body, and her pussy squeezes harder around Mungo's cock.

It all feels so good, and knowing he has again made his love fall apart through his actions thickens the haze in his head. It is like he is drunk off of her taste and feel, and he cannot get enough. With a few more thrusts into her, his will breaks. Pumping wave after wave of his cum in massive surges, he starts to fill her up with his hot loads. He knows better than to give his queen a creampie without asking, but being pent up for so long has left him emptying himself into her soft heat without second thought. He cums so much that it starts to leak out of Rumple with subsequent strokes. Pulling out, his cum floods out of her swollen pussy, but Mungo is not done yet. With a couple jerks of his cock he shoots one final cumshot over Rumple's pelvis and the outside of her pussy before crumpling down in front of her hips.

"Holy crap Mungo, save some of yer jizz for the rest of the year," she exclaims. Bringing a paw down to her pussy, she feels around the mess left behind, "How much did'ya have in you? Has it really been that long?" Mungo just gives an indistinct hum, his body utterly spent from the energy exerted and from his lengthy climaxes. "Oh man, you got it all over my costume too," she says while wiping away some cum. "Don't just lay there you dummy, help me out. This isn't my splooge," she continues on.

"Alright jeez. It's like you didn't even like it," he says scooping her up by her hips. "I've a good idea how to get you squeaky clean," he beams, looking far more excited than he should.

"Promise me no baths Jerrie, y'know I hate water," she says flatly.

Much like he did to start their endeavor, he drops down to kiss and lick at her pussy again. Even messier with his tongue than before, he smears his face in her wetness and his own cum. Already sensitive down there, Rumple twiches in reaction as he goes on. Surprising her, he spins her around so that she is straddling his face, getting a playful look from the queen. "Gravity and all, you know," the words coming out muffled against her skin as he winks. Starting up again, it does not take much, but after a couple of minutes, she is cumming yet again on his tongue. This time she is much quieter, subdued from the previous releases. Mostly cleaned out and licked clean, Mungo slips his head out from underneath her hips.

Wearing most of the product of his newest exploit on his cheeks, he lays in glee trying to collect himself. A twinge of jealousy builds in Rumple, but she knows how to get square with him. "I want a taste too," she says before wrapping her lips around his cock, sucking him off and getting a little taste of what he left behind in her. Within a few dips of her head, Mungo lets go again, bucking his hips into her mouth as he shoots one more small bit of cum against her tongue. At this point, it is all that he has left in him. Pulling her head off, Rumple crawls overtop of him, meeting face to face for the first time in a bit. She makes two quick passes with her tongue, licking errant cum and her own grool off of his cheeks with the load still in her mouth. Locking eyes, they both grab one another's heads, passionately kissing deeply and swapping shared spit and cum between them.

When they break apart, Rumple speaks in a sultry tone, holding a paw on his shoulder, "You did so good my pretty boy. No one treats me like you do." She traces little patterns in his fur while continuing, "Nobody can make me feel so special, and don't think I didn't hear you moan for me." Her tone is so alluring, and he starts to get hard again, his girth brushing against her leg. "Really Mungo? Aren't ya running on empty. Could you even go again?" she exclaims, gesturing to his cock.

"Not at all. I'm sorry Rump, y'know I like when ya talk sweet to me. I cannot help it. My brain says enough, but my dick screams for more. It's like a pollicle wagging their tail!" he explains.

With a half annoyed, half endeared giggle, she pats his head a few times, "Well then, who's a good boy? My good boy?" He is, and he knows it.

#so yeah sometimes i get inspired to write stuff like this and it was all because of few words last week #i would also like to make rumple scream so you know #i guess eager tom fucking the life out of their super hot queen is a theme to my longer fic-like posts #maybe that is just me projecting #though rumple in a song costume is getting it no matter what #anyway when they fuck mungo basically never creams her #they both enjoy cumming on the other's mouth and Rumple likes getting facials and cummed on #if you are super inclined you can send me a request for something like this but it has to be something I would write about #and you also need to be patient because it takes me almost a week to write what is above even though is it not that long #plus my schedule dictates how much time in a day i have to dedicate to writing smut for fictional characters #also if you want a post like this but only about someone going solo that may work tok #not sure if i will be into writing anything unless i am in a mood but send requests anyway who knows

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vinvantae · 24 days

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How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover

Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts

Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!

Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!

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#1 Max Verstappen

He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.

“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.

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#2 Logan Sargeant

You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”

He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”

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#3 Daniel Ricciardo

The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.

“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.

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#4 Lando Norris

You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”

When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”

“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”

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#10 Pierre Gasly

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”

“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”

His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.

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#14 Fernando Alonso

You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.

“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.

“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”

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#16 Charles Leclerc

As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.

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#18 Lance Stroll

Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.

“So, you two..?”

“We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah, just friends.”

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#20 Kevin Magnussen

Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”

“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.

“You have no idea, søde.”

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#22 Yuki Tsunoda

You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.

He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.

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#23 Alex Albon

It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.

“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”

“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”

He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”

“Do you though?”

His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”

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#24 Zhou Guanyu

“Open up.”

You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”

“And to think, you doubted me.”

With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”

“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”

“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”

He grinned at that.

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#31 Esteban Ocon

You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”

A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”

He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”

After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

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#44 Lewis Hamilton

Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.

But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”

“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.

“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”

You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”

It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.

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#63 George Russell

“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”

You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”

“Lose?”

“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”

He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”

You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”

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#77 Valtteri Bottas

“You look tired.”

You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.

“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”

He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”

You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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#81 Oscar Piastri

“This was a terrible idea.”

Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”

With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.

“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”

“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”

With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.

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A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x

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wonwoonlight · 11 months

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when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress.

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward.

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart. He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups fluff #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen scenario #seventeen au #seungcheol angst #seventeen angst #scoups angst #seventeen imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines

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assriels · 2 months

Text

here i go again

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst

a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise

(banners by @/cafekitsune!)

part one

When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.

Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.

Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.

Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.

Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.

The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.

And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.

He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.

Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.

Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.

And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.

But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.

It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.

But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.

As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.

It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.

Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.

Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.

So, you decided to test the theory yourself.

It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.

(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)

You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.

Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.

You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.

Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?

The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.

If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.

You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.

Azriel.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.

You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.

You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.

In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.

You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.

You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.

You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?

Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.

So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.

One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.

The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.

And that it wasn’t him.

You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.

However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.

The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.

“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.

Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.

He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.

“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.

You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.

Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.

He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.

You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.

But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.

“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”

He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”

After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”

You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.

“Az…”

“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”

His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.

“I love you.”

Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.

A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.

Cass…?

Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.

Hey, you.

He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.

Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?

Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.

Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.

You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.

He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.

Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.

Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.

You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.

Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”

You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.

“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”

An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.

“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”

Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.

You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and…I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”

Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.

Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.

Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.

“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.

“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.

What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.

Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.

So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—

“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”

He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?

The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?

Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.

“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”

Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.

You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”

You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.

Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.

In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.

As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.

“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."

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thebibliosphere · 2 years

Text

"But you're so successful without it."

Content warning: This post contains mentions of suicidal ideation.

I got a message earlier tonight that I'm not going to post, but I did ask the person involved if I could talk about what we subsequently ended up talking about in DMs because I feel it's important.

Basically, it was along the lines of "My kid got diagnosed with ADHD and really wants to try meds. I know from reading your blog that correct treatment for ADHD can be really beneficial, but I just don't think she's severe enough to need them."

The message then went on to ask me, as someone who is unmedicated with ADHD, for some tricks and tips on how to be successful without medication because clearly, look how well I'm doing without them. I mean, look at my blog, look at my book(s)! Surely if I can do all that without ADHD meds, other people can too. Surely there's a trick. A skill. Something you can learn if you just try hard enough...

This is not the first time I have received a message like this. In fact, I probably get about 2-5 messages like this a week.

Usually from other people who also have ADHD/suspect ADHD but don't want medication because they don't think they need it/don't want to need it, and yet can't figure out why they're struggling so much, and ask me how do I do the thing(s) and cope so well and get so much done, etc., etc.

So I'm going to tell you what I told this person tonight in case it helps someone. Yes, I have ADHD. No, I am not medicated due to severe health complications, and yes, I get a lot done. From the outside, I am sure it looks incredibly productive and successful. But I'm going to let you in on what that success feels like.

It feels like dying.

It feels like my brain is on fire; every nerve in my body scraped raw; every part of me wired and exposed to the noise of the world. There is no quiet; there is no calm. And even when my brain does fall silent, it's another kind of death. The inside of my head is sludge, flowing uphill like treacle, weighing me down, pulling me under in the riptide of my inability to focus. I can see what needs to be done, I can see it so clearly, yet sometimes it's like I don't control my own body. Not enough dopamine. Not enough brain chemicals for the message I'm screaming in my head to make my limbs do the simplest of tasks. Like, feed myself. Take a shower. Answer that email. Text my friends back. Go to bed when I'm tired. Write a best-selling novel...

A novel that almost killed me and not because of my other ailments, but because of my unmedicated ADHD.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was already operating at critical mass when I went into final rewrites/edits. Every coping mechanism I had fell apart. Like training wheels falling off a tricycle, leaving me to wobble unsteadily until the main wheels fell off, swiftly followed by the handlebars until all that was left was me peddling frantically trying to keep my balance and not getting anywhere. I didn't realize it then, but I was heading towards a complete mental collapse. And even when I dragged myself across the finish line with the above and beyond help provided by my friends and editors, I was so burned out I couldn't enjoy my success. Worse, my success made me suicidal.

It took me until very recently, almost two years later, to be able to read Phangs without feeling suicidal. My brain associated it with the trauma of experiencing complete ADHD burnout but having to complete a monumental task anyway.

I had to go into intensive therapy to recover. I am still in intensive therapy for it.

It took me even longer after that to be able to sit down and write without harming myself. I still struggle with it, and I tell you this in all honest sincerity in the hope it makes you realize what it costs me to be "successful" and unmedicated.

And this wasn't the first time I've had to deal with this, either.

I struggled all through high school, all through college, all through every career job I ever had, knowing there was something wrong, but not quite being able to put my finger on it because hey, I still got stuff done, so it couldn't be that bad, right? Surely everyone went through life feeling this way? Right?

...right?

It wasn't until I got my ADHD diagnosis as an adult that I realized what was happening. Why I struggled so much. Why life was so hard. In many ways, it was like the sun coming up. An internal dawning of realization and acceptance, but also rage.

So much rage.

Rage at how much I'd had to struggle because no one noticed because I was quiet and undisruptive. Rage at a system that forced me to learn in ways that were not intuitive to my brain. To always being told, "doesn't apply herself" while it felt like I was clawing my brain apart trying to do what people wanted from me. To a work-life balance, that rewards all the things that make ADHD actively worse. Rage. So much rage it hurts. And to top it all off, I can't be medicated for it. I finally know what's different, I finally know why my world feels raw and turned inside out, and I can't take any of the medications that might help me.

Do you know how angry I wake up every day that there is a possible solution just within my grasp, but my health conditions prevent me from trying them? Do you know how much it hurts? How much I grieve for the person I could be if I was able to have help beyond therapy and coaching? How much happier I could be...

Not productive. Not successful. Happy.

So ask yourself, what do you want more? A child who has to go through all of this and resents you for prolonging their suffering? Who winds up hating themselves by internalizing the false concept that if they just try hard enough, they can do whatever they set their mind to.

Or do you want to help them?

Or if this is you, why are you afraid to help yourself?

Please, don't use me as an example to harm yourself or others. Yes, I am successful without medication. But the toll is high. Too high.

Rid yourself of the idea that you need to suffer more to be allowed help. You don't. They don't. No one does.

#adhd #adult adhd #actually adhd #chronic health tag #suicide mention #suicidal ideation #long post #mental health #I am not for you to bludgeon other people with #kindly desist

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formula1blog · 14 days

Note

hey could you write about Carlos Sainz. Y/N is a 24 year old Spanish journalist and she and Carlos flirt all the time in front of the camera and Lando and Charles make fun of Carlos because he is always looking forward to doing an interview with Y/N because they flirt hard every time. two that on twitter they created a hashtag on the flirting moments between y/n and carlos

Behind The Camera

Carlos Sainz x Spanish Journalist fem!reader

A/N: I hope this is wat you meant. I never worked with these fake apps before, so don't pay too much attention to dates and times.

One of the flirting scenes is highly based on that one Sebastian Vettel interview.

The paddock was buzzing with people from all around the world. Grand stands were filled with the colors of different teams and drivers. There were big crowds of orange for the hometown heroes, Max verstappen and Lando Norris.

Cheers were heard as Carlos crossed the finish line in p2, just behind his teammate and in front of his old one. The red bull had crashed out of the race after the touch when Sergio Perez tried to overtake the Dutch man. Unfortunately both of the cars tuned into each other, moving Carlos up to third. After the pitstops he had managed to do an undercut on the Mclaren driver and finished on the second podium place.

"That is P2, mate. Good job," his race engineer congratulated him through the radio, prompting Carlos to let out an excited scream.

"Vamos!" he exclaimed, parking his car in front of the P2 sign and stepping out with a wide grin on his face. Charles stood on top of his own car, proudly displaying one finger in the air to signify his win. Carlos congratulated his fellow driver on the victory before turning to his team and embracing them in a warm hug, celebrating their shared success. It is a good day for the Ferrari fans and that didn't happen often.

"Congratulations Carlos on your p2. How are you feeling?" You ask with a bright smile on your face. You always loved interviewing Carlos. He is always really nice and you have nice conversations behind the cameras. Also a plus point that he drives for your favorite team.

"Great now that you are here," he answers, his eyes twinkling as he gives you a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. You have to try hard not to blush at the man's charming comment. "It's a great day for the team with a 1-2 finish. I hope we have more of these moments to come."

"You were absolutely flying out there today. Your performance was outstanding. I am sure that you have more of these moments. "

Carlos smiles at your words, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you. The car felt great and the team did a great job with the undercut." He had been looking forward to seeing you today after he heard you will do the podium post race interviews. Lets just say he had some extra motivation for this race.

"With the undercut you managed to get in front of Lando. Was it difficult to keep him behind?"

"Of course. He is a great driver and their car is very fast. He really had me concentrate those last laps. " Carlos looks back at where Lando was standing next to the race winner. Lando gave him a little smile for the comment.

"The safety car came at a good moment and you got a free pit from it. Do you think you could have had the same pace with the old ones?"

"The safety car did come at a great time. I was struggling with the tyres and really wanted to switch them. The team said I couldn't because then I had to drive out the race for the remaining laps and that was too many. So having an extra free stop really helped. "

"Any plans for after the race. How are you going to celebrate it?"

"I am sure there is a party planned already. Good thing is that it is summer holiday and we don't need to do training wasted." He jokes and you let out a laugh.

"Sounds great. Have any plans for the summer break? How are you going to spend your free time? "

"Well, What are your plans?" He smirks and you have to take a second to let your mind take in his comment. You want to play to game with him, but chose to be professional and do as if you don't get the hint.

"Nice of you to ask. I'm heading back to Spain to visit some family," you reply, trying to maintain your cool exterior even as your heart races at the thought of his attention turning towards you.

"I hope I see you around then, Hermosa" Carlos says, his smirk widening as he rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that sends a jolt of desire through you. You say your goodbyes before Lando takes his place in front of your camera.

Out of your sight Charles laughs at his teammate and gives him a pat on the back, a playful smirk placed on his face.

"What?" Carlos looks at him with confused puppy eyes. He takes his water bottle and takes a sip.

"What are your plans." Charles imitates his teammates question before letting out a louder laugh that turns the head of other people. "Mate, just ask her out already. It is painful to watch you keep flirting with each other."

"I ask her what her plans are. That is just being polite."

"Alright. And when you found out she was doing the post race interviews, you didn't smile from ear to ear because you would be seeing her again?"

"She is a great journalist and my friend. "

When Lando came back from his interview with you he had made the same remark as Charles and Carlos just groaned in reply. He was not going to hear the end of it.

The fans on twitter were going wild after the interview. It wasn't the first time you and Carlos had shared some flirty comments and there were fan pages dedicated to the two of you. There was even a tag going around with all the fans favorite moments of you two together that you weren't aware of.

Lando laughs as he opens twitter. He was at the celebration party after the race and he had sit down next to the two ferarri drivers after a round of shots.

" Whats so funny?" Carlos asks with a confused expresion as he tries to look at the Brits phone. Lando shows the Twitter reactions.

" Looks like you are the only blind one."

#carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 #formula 1 #formule1 #f1 imagine #Lando norris #charles leclerc

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mrdixon · 7 months

Text

Slow mornings

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k (WOW)

warnings: mention of sexual content (very suggestive oohhhhrrr)

summary: the morning after, he cant get enough.

A/N: HI IM WRITING A SERIES DONT FRET and i just wrote this because i woke up and thought of him. also i was like so ready to post this and then SCREAMED because i forgot to make a gif.

masterlist

You scrunched your face up feeling the warm Virginian sun on your skin, squeezing your eyes shut as you rolled over onto your side. Once your eyes adjusted to the bright light you looked over and saw your boyfriend, laying on his stomach asleep.

It was a bit of a shock to see him still in bed next to you, usually he'd wake up early and be up and about. You couldn't blame him for sleeping in though, after your night of pure, rough passion. You shivered remembering his skin on yours, the ghost of his lips still lingering on your neck.

You tucked your arm underneath your head, watching his sleeping face. His lips parted a little and you could hear soft breathing from him, his hair messily resting over his eyes. You reached forward, gently brushing the strands of hair out of his face. He grumbled low in his throat, keeping his eyes closed as he threw an arm over your waist, dragging you closer to him. You sighed quietly, wrapping your arm around his head and burying his face in your neck to which he accepted with zero resistance. His lips started to slowly pepper kisses along your throat, brushing over the marks he left the night prior, sending shivers down your spine as your hand closed in on his hair gently.

“Morning to you,” you murmured softly which earned a grunt from him. His hand roamed behind you, his nails tracing over the curve of your back, goosebumps rising on your skin. The kisses on your neck became more urgent, pressing his lips hard against your flesh and taking a deep breath.

“Mornin’,” he muttered against your neck. Nibbling one of the hickeys on your collarbone before pulling back slightly to look at your face, his hand retracting a bit to thumb at the side of your breast. He chuckled at your appearance, hair still messy, your eyes tired. “Ya look beautiful like this.” He ran his fingers through your hair, getting caught in a few tangles on the way down, leaning in to peck your lips.

You kissed him back tenderly, softly. His hand stilled at the back of your head as he groaned into the kiss, pulling back before burying his face in your neck once again.

“We should get up soon…” you mumbled while giggling, a soft sigh leaving your mouth when he dragged his tongue along the marks on your neck. He pinched your waist playfully, biting the area where your neck met your shoulder.

“Don’ wanna get up,” he grumbled, kissing your chin. You laughed, catching his lips with your own before pulling back, his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you.

“Fine, five more minutes.” You grinned, your hand tickling the side of his face to which he swatted away. He grabbed your waist, flipping you both over so you were on top of him.

“Make it half an hour,” he whispered, pulling you closer so he could press his face into your breasts. You giggled lightly, tugging his hair and pulling him away.

“We have work to do, wouldn’t want Michonne up our asses huh?” You pointed out to which he scoffed, shoving his face back in your breasts.

“Wouldn’ mind if it meant I got to be inside you again,” he said, muffled. You smacked his head lightly, “hey. I got needs woman.”

“Sure you do,” you sighed dreamily. As much as you wanted to continue this, you had to do some work. Muttering an apology you started to get off of him, but you didn’t get far before he pulled you back on top of him, his big arms wrapped around your back.

“Wha’ do I gotta do to convince ya?” He murmured almost pathetically, but you knew better than to point out his tone of voice. You looked down at him, meeting his captivating blue eyes, ones that begged you to stay in bed for awhile longer. He bit his lip once you didn’t respond, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Kissing your jaw gently as his hands rubbed your lower back, his eyes remaining on yours. “Please? (Y/N)…”

You stroked the side of his face, rubbing his stubble with your thumb. He was being so needy all of a sudden, he usually wasn’t. You placed your palm on his jaw, tilting his head up and leaning down to place a light kiss on his lips. As you pulled away he chased after your lips slightly, his shoulders drooping. How cute.

“(Y/N)…” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and rubbing it. “Let me in ya…” You sighed, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“No,” you whispered gently, earning a loud grunt from him. He bit your neck quite harshly, a yelp escaping you.

“Please…” he whispered, now kissing over the bite he just gave you, massaging your lower back. His hand moving to cup your ass, his breath shaky. “I’ll do anythin’… Just let me have ya..”

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair and tugging his head back. “Anything?” You grinned to which he nodded eagerly, you leaned down to kiss his lips. His hands on your sides, caressing the sides of your breasts while his tongue fought with yours.

He tried to flip you both over at one point but you held your ground, biting his bottom lip which made him groan deeply into your mouth. You rocked your hips against his teasingly, his hands slowly inching over to cup your breasts, but you swatted them away.

“Okay fine, we can stay in for a bit. But I’m on top.” You grinned to which he rolled his eyes, nodding reluctantly.

“Fine ya little minx.” He grunted playfully, shivering when your nails tickled down his back.

“15 minutes… that’s it,” you whispered above his lips, his breath mingling with yours. He groaned, rolling his eyes.

He grumbled, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you down onto him. “Nah, 30 minutes. ‘s a slow mornin’.”

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #daryl x y/n #daryl fluff #mrdixonposts

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maidragoste · 6 months

Text

Promises

THG AU

Victor!Aegon II Targaryen x Victor!Reader

Summary: President Snow announces that in the next Quarter Quell, the tributes will be reaped from among the victors.

Logically I should have posted the Jace games first but it's been a while since I posted anything about Aegon and I was excited haha

Edit: The first chapter of the Jace games is now available.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Please, if you enjoyed this reading, let me know in the comments or in my inbox, that always motivates me to continue writing 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You were in the house of Viserys Targaryen like the rest of the victors from your district. Of course, you had to drag Aegon's drunk ass out of his house and bring him here first. Everyone was waiting for the broadcast about the seventy-five Hunger Games. All the Hunger Games were bloody but this year was the third quarter quell and in each quarter quell they modified the rules with the purpose of making the games even more brutal and more difficult to win. In the last quarter quell instead of sending two tributes per district they sent four so you couldn't even imagine what they planned to do now.

You locked eyes with Rhaenyra as you heard her father laugh at his own joke. She, like you, seemed to be anxious about the announcement because she kept spinning her rings.

“That's enough,” you said when you heard Alicent, Aegon's mother and Viserys' wife, sigh for the fifth time when she saw that her son wouldn't stop drinking. You tried to take the bottle from him but he slapped you and looked at you annoyed. Rhaenyra was ready to intervene but you waved her hand at her telling her you could handle it. “At least you can share a little,” you complained.

Aegon looked at you suspiciously. It wouldn't be the first time that you asked him to share his alcohol with you and then didn't return the bottle or in any case threw away all its contents. He groaned as he watched you pout before handing you the bottle. You smiled at him making a small smile appear on his face. Even so, he watched you carefully as you drank his whiskey, when he thought it was enough he abruptly took the bottle from you, causing the liquid to drip onto your chin. He laughed at your annoyed look as you wiped yourself with your hand. Rhaenyra shook her head at their foolishness.

President Snow finally appeared on the screen. Aegon's laughter stopped as did the conversation between Daemon, Viserys, and Harrold. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary, as every year he talked about the uprising against the Capitol and how significant the games were until…

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol"You didn't know why but you couldn't help but get tense, you felt your stomach drop, you tried to calm by telling yourself that surely it was just the drink you had that was bad for you and you leaned back from the couch, listening even more attentively to the speech. "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

You heard Alicent's screams. You watched as Rhaenyra got up from the couch and left the house. You flinched at the sound of breaking glass. The president's voice was no longer heard and the smell of whiskey filled the place. Aegon was no longer next to you, he found himself banging his head against the wall as he screamed. You felt like your heart was going a mile a second. You had a lump in your throat and your chest hurt and all you wanted to do was join in the screaming and smash things but that wouldn't help. Aegon needed you, Aemond and Daeron were busy trying to calm their mother down while Viserys carried a frightened Helaena to her room and Harrold along with Willis was trying to stop Daemon from destroying the kitchen as he had done with the vases in the living room.

You stood up and didn't bother to dodge the glass as you walked towards the youngest male victor in your district. You tugged at the back of his shirt, managing to move him away from the wall for a brief moment.

“Aegon! Stop” you shouted in a broken voice as you saw her hit herself again.

Hearing your voice like that Aegon turned to see you. There was now a bloody gash on his forehead and his eyes were manic. For a brief moment you thought he would attack you but all he did was pull your body towards his and entice you into a tight hug.

“We can't go back. I can’t go back” You felt his body shake as he sobbed and your heart broke for him. You knew Aegon's head couldn't handle surviving another arena, he spends all his time drinking to stay groggy and avoid thinking about all the people he killed. Even most of the time he only managed to fall asleep after having been drinking non-stop. "I can not do it"

“You won't,” you promised, caressing his cheeks, your head already hatching a plan. District One has five living male victors: Viserys, Daemon, Aegon, Willis Fell, and Harrold Westerling. There were chances that Aegon's name wouldn't come up in the reaping but if it did then Daemon could offer himself as a tribute. He would do it if you volunteered in Rhaenyra's place and if you promised to help him keep his girlfriend from District Four alive.

“I can't lose you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. Maybe he was lucky and his name didn't come up in the reaping but you had less chance. You and Rhaenyra were the only living victors in the district. If your name came up he knew his sister wouldn't show up as a tribute. She may not depend on being drunk to keep her calm but he had witnessed how she would sometimes wake up screaming and the dark circles under her eyes were evidence that she could sometimes go days without sleep.

And those words ended up destroying you. You started crying with him. You wanted to be strong but you couldn't. You didn't want to go back to the arena either, you were supposed to be free after winning the games, and you didn't want to kill again, much less people you know. You may not be friends with every victor but during these years as a mentor, you had at least spoken once with each one.

Your stomach twisted as you thought that maybe it was one of your friends who would finish you off. Would they be merciful and give you a not-so-painful death? You didn't believe it because you knew that the people in the Capitol liked the show, they got bored with a simple death, and they wanted to see blood. So if Arryk, Tyland Johanna, and Sabitha wanted to live they would have to put on a show to gain sponsors.

Perhaps the easiest thing would be to commit suicide in the games, you would bring dishonor to your district—you wouldn't be the first, people still didn't see Viserys as a true victor after having betrayed his cousin by killing her while she slept—but at least you wouldn't have to kill anyone. The president couldn't punish you, he had already taken away your loved ones after you refused to prostitute yourself and killed the one who was supposed to be your biggest sponsor, he had only wanted you to come out alive so he could obtain your body.

You could die by eating some poisonous bug, plant, or fruit like Jacaerys Strong and her district mate had tried to do at the last minute. Supposedly they had done it because they were in love and didn't dare to be in a world without each other but you were sure it was an act. You could come to believe that the girl is in love but the boy does not seem natural with every display of affection in public.

“It's not fair,” you whispered in disbelief when you realized that they were all being punished because of the last victors. They had done their act of rebellion by threatening to eat poisonous berries so that there would be no winner of the games after announcing that the rule that there could be two winners if they were part of the same district was revoked. “It's not fair,” you moved your hands away from Aegon's face for fear that in your state of fury, you might end up scratching him. “I want them dead.”

You were too deep in your head to notice Aegon looking at you in dismay. Tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes but there was no longer fear in them but fury and determination. You have the same look you had during your Hunger Games.

You may die in these hunger games but at least before you leave you would make sure to make the so-called lovers of District Twelve pay for ruining what little peace you and Aegon had. You would make them wish they had died in their games.

These days it seemed like all you felt was anger. Angry at President Snow, at the Capitol, at Jacaerys Strong, and the girl from Twelve. But right now the one you were angry at was Aegon. The day after the announcement about vassalage was made, all the victors agreed that they would train together and get in shape for these games. The only one who had continued training all these years was Daemon, so the rest had a lot to catch up on, especially Viserys and Harrold—because of their age—and Aegon—because of his alcoholism—so when it was about to be a week and the idiot still didn't leave his house, you got angry.

You entered his house with the key he gave you a year ago. You found him sleeping on the couch with several bottles, some empty and others still unopened, on his table. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid waking him up by screaming. The best thing would be to take advantage of the fact that he was asleep to get rid of any alcohol that was in the house. You started by inspecting the entire house and ended up throwing the contents of two flasks that were in his bathroom, five bottles of whiskey that you found in his room, and five bottles of vodka in his kitchen, down the drain.

When Aegon woke up he found you putting the bottles that were on his table into a garbage bag. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and once his vision fully focused he slowly stood up. He walked towards you and he hugged you from behind. Feeling your body he tensed he left a kiss on the back of your neck hoping you would relax but instead, he earned a slap on his hands that were on your waist. The blonde grumbled and walked away from you, finally realizing your bad mood.

“Go take a bath” you ordered without looking at him and continuing with your cleaning task.

Aegon listened to you, of course, he left before grumbling, revealing his displeasure at your cold tone towards him, hoping that once he was clean you would let him hug you and kiss you. At the thought of having your sweet lips, he soon took a quick shower and didn't even bother to dry his hair well before coming down to meet you in the kitchen. I smile at you when I see that you have made him eggs and toasted him bread. Before eating he wanted to look for a bottle of vodka to accompany the meal but he found his shelf empty.

“No more alcohol,” you declared, making the blonde turn to look at you with a frown. “Don't even try, I got rid of everything” you said when you saw him opening another shelf.

“You have no right!” He reproached you, pointing his finger as he walked towards you. You didn't flinch at his angry look nor did you try to escape when he placed both of his hands on the table, leaving you caged between his body and the table.

“You told me you couldn't lose me” The man looked at you confused without understanding what this had to do with you taking away his alcohol “So I'm training and I'm trying hard for these games for you” You felt heat on your face because of what you were about to say, you weren't used to being so open with your feelings. “I want you to do the same for me. I want you to train with me and the rest of the victors. I want you to promise me that you will give everything you have to win these games because I can't lose you either, I couldn't bear to live without you” Your voice broke at the end and you closed your eyes.

You needed Aegon to promise you so you could be a little calmer, you had already spoken with Daemon and he accepted your deal but you were still afraid that he would betray you at the last minute, you needed to know that Aegon would not give up if he went to the arena.

Feeling his chest warm at your words Aegon grabbed you by the waist to bring you even closer to him and captured his lips with yours. It didn't take long for you to move your lips in tandem with him. While he got drunk with the sweetness of your lips and melted before your touch, he couldn't help but think that this was the way he wanted to spend his last days, by your side. He also wanted to hit his past self for not taking advantage of every moment he had with you. If only he had made the effort to be a decent man and become someone worthy of you he would have told you a long time ago that he loves you. But he didn't and he didn't want to tie you down to spending the rest of your life with a useless drunk so he kept his feelings to himself and settled for those shared nights.

A growl left his lips as you broke the kiss. He tried to kiss you again but you moved your face making him pout.

"Please, Aegon. I need you to train. I need you to try and fight for us."

He hated that look in your eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in them. And knowing that he was one of the reasons you were unhappy made him feel a pit in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of having to fight Daemon and obey his orders, but he would do it for you.

"I will do it, I promise"

Maybe later when he is crying and with sore muscles he would regret it but seeing how your eyes lit up and the bright smile you gave him he didn't believe that would happen.

"I love you" he finally confessed his feelings and smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes "I love you. I love you. I love you" he repeated while he spread kisses all over your face.

A mixture of laughter and sobs escaped your lips. You were happy to know that he also felt the same as you, you had long wanted to hear those words, but your heart ached knowing that you would not be able to spend the rest of your life at Aegon's side. It was a bittersweet feeling.

"I love you too," you declared through tears.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @nzygftoji

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

i saw u wanted val requests and well hes my fav. this isnt rlly a requst so much a thought tht has been festering in my brain and im too scared to post on my own acct imagine breaking val. imagine taking the time to ruin his grandiose showboating persona. he's always so cocky and arrogant, even when he got used to bottoming he remained an arrogant prick. he would smirk and act like a brat the whole time. it was fun sometimes. not always. you wanted so badly to see his arrogant face in tears. thats how he got here. tied tightly with ropes making sure he had no way to escape. of course this was accompanied by another arrogant comment "so tight, chiqui~ you worried i might flip the script?" you rolled your eyes. tying the silk blindfold to his face was met with similar comments and teasing. but what he didnt expect was you to slip away to sit in the corner of the room. at first he's sitting, waiting impatiently with the occasional comment. he expects at any minute you'll bring him a fun toy to fill his holes or to slap him around. maybe you're getting undressed and he'll soon feel your hands all over him. as time ticks longer he makes more comments, each growing more irritated in tone. it doesnt take more than 30 minutes for him to begin to get truly angry at you. hes yelling, cursing, screaming violent threats at you. its the farthest you've seen his facade fall. his body twisting and fighting his bonds as he tries as hard as he can to free himself. he can't. now its been 50 minutes and his thrashing has only gotten worse. his comments of harsh threats as loud as he can have turned his voice hoarse until he's making rough whining. his wings twist and write against his bonds kicking up little gusts of winds as he strains himself so hard you're worried he's going to get hurt. so you speak. "calm down, you'll hurt yourself" at the sound of your voice his whole body perks up and he tries to find your voice. finally you hear it, a pathetic whimper from his hoarse voice. "chiqui?" its so sad and sweet like a whimper from a kicked animal you almost wouldn't know its him. "im right here." you assure him finally getting up from your seat. tears start spilling from beneath the blindfold as he fights against his bonds, weaker this time. you place a gentle hand on his chest. "im right here." you repeat as his bound arms try desperately to get to you. "want you... n.. need you." you crawl over him and gently lift his blind fold exposing his tear eyes to you. you rub your thumb gently over his cheek to brush away his tears. "im right here for you, val. tell me what you need." "need you." he rubbed his head against your hand. "need mmm" you immediately retracted your hand and looked at him with a stern look while keeping your tone gentle. "you need to use your words." another whimper left his lips. "t-touch me please just. use me. need you so b-bad i dont care how i-" your hands were back on him in moments, making quick work of some of his bonds. mostly you were making sure he could flex his wings comfortably. before you turned him on his stomach. "you're such a good boy." you cooed in his ear which was met with shaky purring from deep in his chest. with all his showboating broken it was going to be fun breaking him down to a sobbing begging mess.

WOAH. GANG. IM LITERALLY SPEECHLESS. GOOD MORNING???

Nah this made me forget i’m a writer like WHAT NEXT??? WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT??? Part two in my inbox NOW. I’m on my hands and knees.

No because like “use me” from Val has got be acting up. I’m clawing at the walls of my enclosure. Him breaking down into tears when he hears your voice because he’s so desperate to be touched, because the poor baby can’t even go one full hour without your attention. IM COOKED.

Anyways, i’m impressed, and this delivered on so many levels. I’d sell my soul to have more anons like you in my askbox, much love lil homie. PEACE ✌️

#inbox open #hazbin hotel x reader #dom reader #sub valentino #valentino x reader

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zh-lele · 9 months

Text

12-7 ROOM (part one)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity suggestive jokes

▪︎Word count (part 1): 6613 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: Hi every1!!! The fluffy Hyuck fic is here, finally. I decided I'll be posting it in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I planned, and since it's written in the format of timestamps. It barely has any conflict, so I was afraid it would get boring or tedious if I posted everything in just one go. So, yeah, part 2 coming next week. Also, I changed Hyuck's major (it's physics now) for plot purposes lol I figured it would be easier for me to write him if we share majors. Also !! I didn´t proof read it but I will during the week lol sorry. Okay, tysm for all the support on the preview !!! enjoy the fic bye !!!!

Tuesday, 10:34 p.m.

Mark moves around the small apartment urgently cleaning up. He makes sure to pick up and throw into the garbage bag between his hands every empty Red Bull can that his roommate has left lying around. On the old sofa rests his guitar, and on the little table in the living room his lyrics notebooks and Donghyuck's physics notes.

"Mark," Donghyuck calls for him, to which the older one only responds with a small sound, indicating that he has his attention—partially, as he's still concentrating on his duty of getting all ready for your arrival—, "Your food is getting cold."

Mark lets out an exasperated sigh while getting all his belongings inside his backpack and his guitar in the case. "I'll just order something once I'm at the studio."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I need to get some work done with TY. And y/n's arriving at any time so this place has to be tidy and clean and–" Mark stops all motions of arranging the mattress you're going to sleep on on the living room floor, to fix his eyes on his friend. "Hyuck, could you like, put on a t-shirt or something?"

Small drops of water fall from Donghyuck's wet hair onto his naked torso, fresh from the warm shower he just took. The young man does nothing but questions his best friend with a lopsided smile as he finishes his bowl of ramen, sitting at the counter in front of Mark's—that remains full and cold by now.

"What, you think y/n's gonna be scared of all this handsomeness?"

Mark's face is expressionless while looking at Donghyuck, who's feeling himself to add to the point. And Mark has missed you a lot, but he thinks that the faster he gets a break from his chaotic roommate, the better; he can't wait to have a week free of the jokes and headaches Donghyuck causes him because Donghyuck will have you to annoy. Even when he will still be working, to Mark, that sounds pretty much like a vacation.

"Nah, dude. It's fucking cold, you'll get sick."

"You will get sick if you don't get anything to eat as soon as you make it to work," Donghyuck answers back as he gets up from his chair and puts his favorite Michael Jackson t-shirt on. "Promise me you'll order."

"Yeah, I promise," Mark sounds sincere. After a quick hug and a few pats on each other's back, Mark is opening the front door ready to leave for a late-night music session. "Please receive y/n well for me–

"Y/n!"

Screams and laughs from both you and your brother fill the little apartment, as you greet and hug him after almost four months without seeing each other. Just in time, is what Donghyuck thinks while observing the cute interaction, and gently caressing his belly from underneath the t-shirt because, well, he is confident but—even though he has known you for years and you've shared many situations—, he's not confident enough around you to show himself with nothing on like that. At least not yet.

His face lights up as soon as he sees you extend your arms in his direction, and Donghyuck manages to squeeze you into a warm hug and spin you in the air while the both of you laugh.

Your brother says his goodbyes, and Donghyuck tells him there's a chance they could meet up at Johnny's later, in case he wants to join in after work.

"Alright, I'll get there with Taeyong later then."

He waves to both of you and closes the front door, leaving you alone with his roommate.

"Take a relax, bro," he offers you to sit at the counter and you laugh after hearing the famous line after months. You observe him filling a cup with water and placing it in front of you before speaking again. "Want some ramen?"

"Hell yeah. I'm starving."

"Let me heat it for you."

But he was already on it even before you answered. Donghyuck knows well he's very good at turning the simple dish into a delicious meal, and that it's one of your favorite things to share since you two met.

You wouldn't say it was love at first sight, but maybe adoration since the first encounter. Only weeks after your brother moved to start studying, he invited you over because he was missing home too much. And Donghyuck wouldn't be his apartment buddy until a year after, but they already frequented the same group of friends. The two of you were standing awkwardly in a corner at Taeyong's birthday party, and ended up at your brother's because you were hungry, eating ramen together: his secret recipe (that wasn't mysterious at all) that included tomatoes and scrambled eggs and that he only made for 'real special situations'.

Donghyuck sets the bowl in front of you, the tomato scrambled noodles and eggs making your mouth water and curve in a smile. A ray of sunshine gets on the chair beside you even though it's almost midnight, and makes you feel at home, warming you even though it's freezing outside.

"So, how's school?" You start talking with a mouth full of ramen, lips moisturized with its sauce that makes Donghyuck smile when he sets his eyes on them. His look makes you blush, but you blame it on the spiciness of the Hot Chicken Spicy x2 package of noodles that he prepared for you. "Hyuck, this is burning my mouth."

"Well, don't put so many noodles in your mouth at once!" Donghyuck brings the glass of water to your hands and you accept it immediately. Its freshness somehow makes you forget the mess that Hyuck's eyes on your filthy ramen lips could have caused.

Maybe surviving a week living with the guy you like (who is your brother's best friend, which makes things a lot more complicated) will be harder than you thought.

"School's been kicking my ass," the boy continues and you nod your head, sadly sharing the sentiment. "I started my winter break last Friday, but I have to take a final in two weeks so I'll be studying. And Mark doesn't get a winter break."

"Motherfucking TY, won't let him rest."

"That's what I say!" He agrees with you, his eyes widening and sighing in exasperation. "Both of them are workaholics. Won't stop working on their music even for a week."

"Yeah. And knowing Mark, he'll try to make the most of his time since he doesn't have to teach at school for two weeks."

You knew in advance that your brother wouldn't be home much despite your visit, however extraordinary it may be. He warned you about it, that he would be focusing 100% on Taeyong's album, but that he would definitely try to take advantage of the free time to go out with you, or just chill together at home. On the other hand, Mark assured you that Donghyuck would be very happy to spend the time he wouldn't be there with you. The idea gave you butterflies in your stomach when your brother texted it to you; some emojis of a mischievous smile followed the message but you didn't know how to interpret it, since Mark is terrible at texting and pretty much a boomer.

"But don't worry!" Donghyuck speaks after a brief pause. "I'll study early in the mornings while you sleep, then we'll have the afternoons to hang out, and Mark can join whenever he's free. He'll make time for it, I'm sure."

Somehow, the thought of Donghyuck getting up early during his break to have the afternoons free to spend time with you makes your heart melt a little. You lower your head, trying to hide the inevitable smile on your lips, but you fail wildly. You decide to adhere to Donghyuck's plan, nodding and showing the tight-lipped smile that spreads to his face.

"Good." He nods as well. "So, you wanna go to Johnny's later?" Donghyuck asks, his thumb pointing in the direction of the door.

"Yeah, sure." You get up from the kitchen table to start doing your dishes at the sink. "I'm excited to see the boys after so long."

"And we have some new additions to the group."

Donghyuck's voice reaches your ears from behind. You're quickly cleaning the single bowl and glass you used, so you finish and turn around to keep listening to him face-to-face. Donghyuck picks up on his monologue.

"There's Jungwoo. He's living with Jaehyun and Doyoung and he's about to finish doing vet in college. And it's funny, because he really looks and acts like a doggie, and he's doing vet," Donghyuck finishes the sentence, looking at you with an expression that suggests 'Can you believe that?'.

His silliness makes you laugh, which encourages Donghyuck to continue sharing his first impressions of his new friends. "Then there's Yuta. He came from Japan and opened a café on the first floor of the building where Johnny and Taeyong live, and that's how they met. He's a little cold with me," Donghyuck shrugs at it, yet you can tell in his expression how he gets discouraged when he thinks about that situation. "But he's not cold with Mark. And Mark is, I don't know, he's obsessed with Yuta." There is a brief silence in which Donghyuck only looks into your eyes with a super serious face. "I hate that."

And you burst into laughter. You don't need to ask Donghyuck if he's jealous, because you know for a fact that he very much is. As soon as he doesn't get all the attention, he gets annoying. Don't you dare not answer one of the silly cat reels he sends on Instagram or he will start texting you things like "Pay attention to me" or "Answer or I'll get sad." So you know how it can be. He doesn't get annoyed over the Baekhyun posts he shares with you because you always reply to them. Donghyuck might get jealous of Baekhyun too, but he won't show that to you.

"Don't worry, Hyuck." You circle the island to stand next to him and try to comfort him, one of your hands caressing circles on his back. He quickly seeks comfort by resting his head on your shoulder, and you can notice his slightly wet hair smells like green apple and cinnamon, like baby shampoo. "You're Mark's best friend. The things you've been through together, he won't get through again with anyone else. That's what's special about you two."

"You're right, y/n," he agrees while getting his head off your shoulder. "None of them will ever know Mark ran out of toilet paper at a party once and he sacrificed a sock to clean his-"

"Oh my fucking God" you cut him off before he can finish, not wanting to hear any of it. "Gross! Some things are better kept as a secret, Hyuck! I'll go change."

"But we are like a family!" he screams as you get out of the kitchen and into Donghyuck and Mark's room to get ready for Johnny's house. "Sharing those things helps us get closer!"

The walls are thin, so you don't bother answering Donghyuck from the room. "Honestly, Hyuck, I don't really care where my brother's butt has been or whatever. Let's get closer by sharing some drinks at Johnny's."

Wednesday, 01:47 a.m.

"So, how did you two meet?" Yuta asks, taking up the free space next to you on the couch and passing you two cans of beer. Exactly what you need after three rounds of karaoke with Johnny and Doyoung that are inexhaustible.

They're still going off strong in front of the TV, waiting for Mark to get back and join them in their madness.

"Oh, we're not together."

"Oh, that's for sure. I know you're not pulling any bitches, Hyuck."

Donghyuck laughs dryly at the Japanese boy, putting on his best expression of annoyance; tongue poking at his inside cheek and rolling his eyes, and he replies, "That's not true. I can pull anyone I want."

"Prove it," Yuta pushes him because he knows that Donghyuck is an easy-going person, and always a good target for a challenge.

Donghyuck quickly scans the room while you busy yourself taking a sip of your can, not wanting to get involved in Yuta's teasing, until he lands eyes on Jaehyun. He knows the boy loves him and is almost always up for some of his affection.

"Jaehyun's not an option," Yuta adds, the always good observant, and Donghyuck sighs very audibly before throwing his head back on the couch.

But he composes himself quickly to ask, turning slightly to you with his arm still firm around your shoulders. "Would you get with me? Hypothetically?"

“Are you asking me because I’m the only girl in the room?” you question him with a raise of your brows.

“Nah, you’re my first option,” he replies with a subtle smile, eyes closing slightly into the shape of two crescent moons.

You like to think he truly has no idea the effect his words have on you, and that he's just messing with Yuta, trying to prove a point. Yet, you can't help feel the heat rise to your cheeks. A deep breath is all it takes you to ignore the intern butterflies and follow the conversation, as if you're not already imagining the thousand scenarios where you and Donghyuck are an established couple living with two dogs (you would like a cat but he's allergic) and a hamster.

“But I thought your first option was Jaehyun–”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

“Alright, jeez…”

You roll your eyes and give yourself a moment to think. Would you get together with Hyuck, hypothetically? Considering the four-year crush you've had on your brother's best friend since the moment you met him, no, you wouldn't.

You would get with him for real. All of your friends back home said it's time you brave up and just confess to him. You better come back with the signed marriage papers, your best friend’s voice resonates in your head.

"I mean… Yes?" you answer by looking at Yuta, trying to avoid Donghyuck's eyes that you know are set on the blushed skin of your face. "I guess Hyuck is not a bad match," you finish with a shy shrug, sinking yourself deeper on the couch and taking another long drink.

Donghyuck smiles contentedly at your answer, his chest filling with confidence, and kisses you wet with beer on the forehead that gets you squeezed up to his body for a second. By the time he's done, you rest your head on his shoulder to return the affection, trying not to throw up all the butterflies and not noticing Yuta's knowing stare.

"Keyword: hypothetically. And I said 'Prove it.'" Yuta pushes a little more.

"Bro, you're so annoying." Donghyuck gets up from the couch exasperated, and almost makes you spill all your beer while trying to get you up with him. "What, you want us to make out?"

Yuta nods, crossing his arms and spreading his legs on the couch that he has all for himself now, challenging the younger boy.

"Sorry dude, we're not into exhibitionism."

Donghyuck takes your hand to drag you away from the living room, but you can still hear Yuta's laugh and the words the two you would end up choosing to ignore for the rest of the night.

"This is not how you're getting some, Hyuck! Don't say I didn't try to help you!"

Donghyuck's hand holding yours (or rather dragging you into the kitchen) feels embarrassingly good. Worth blushing and having your heart fastening inside your chest. Damn Donghyuck for making you feel like a teenager who had just exchanged looks with their highschool crush. And just when you needed a break from that ridiculous wave of emotions…

“What are you wearing!?” You hear Johnny’s voice coming out of the speakers, as he’s still holding the mic to his mouth while the instrumentals of his most iconic karaoke performance play on the back, A Flying Butterfly by YB.

Mark and Taeyong have arrived at the apartment and they have caught everyone's attention because Taeyong is wearing an inflatable T-Rex costume. Jungwoo is the first one to get to Taeyong with his mouth open in astonishment, an expressión that is quickly replaced with amusement as soon as he gets to hug and squeeze the dinosaur in his hands.

“Jungwoo, stop squeezing my butt!” Taeyong’s voice comes a little distorted from inside the costume, but it’s clear enough for everyone to laugh at his comment. “You're going to make it deflate!”

Jungwoo keeps looking at Taeyong in the costume as if he was a kid who just saw Santa; hugging the dinosaur and saying it feels perfect for cuddling. This is the moment you understand what Donghyuck meant when he said Jungwoo looks just like an excited doggie.

“Taeyong saw it online and got it because it was on sale a couple weeks ago,” Mark starts explaining to no one in particular. “But then he ordered it and we completely forgot about it, until it arrived at the studio tonight.”

“I put it on inside the elevator so I could surprise you guys,” Taeyong adds with a happy smile, unzipping the costume just for his head to come out of it, somehow making it look all more ridiculous. Now the T-Rex looks like he has a floating head right above his stomach.

“Yeah… We had to stop the elevator for some more time because getting it inflated was way harder than I thought,” your brother says as he watches Taeyong and Jungwoo struggle with each other, because Jungwoo desperately wants to get inside the costume too but Taeyong doesn’t want to stop wearing it just yet.

Yuta only judges them from where he’s still sitting on the couch, arms crossed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you really spent money on this.” Yet his comment is followed by a laugh. It’s not as intense as Doyoung and Taeil’s, though, who have been laughing since Taeyong crossed the door, and haven’t missed the chance to film and take pictures of him (and Jungwoo who still wouldn’t leave his side.)

"Alright so," Johnny says into the mic to attract everyone's attention. "Karaoke?"

The guys start to team up; some out of affinity or fun, others because they know they will definitely win the most points if they are grouped with certain people who hit all the notes on any song. Donghyuck, however, doesn't team up with anyone right away. He just stands in the middle of Johnny's and Taeyong's living room, watching Mark immediately cling to Yuta (who already had Jungwoo clinging to his other side.) He gestures towards your brother with arms crossed and a roll of his eyes. So, noticing his jealousy over your brother's recent preferences—jealousy that wasn't that hard to notice, he made it pretty obvious—and taking pity on your friend, you offer to team up with him.

"Wanna kick some ass together?" And you observe him playing hard to get. You're not a bad match for karaoke; you might not sing as well as Taeil or Doyoung, but you don't suck at it, and Donghyuck knows that very well. So when he starts doubting over his answer, you know he just wants to mess with you.

Suddenly Taeil is standing in front of the two of you, and Donghyuck, with an incredibly exaggerated face of astonishment, asks him:

"You wanna team up with us?!"

See, you knew he wasn't going to leave you out of his team.

Taeil only shrugs, as relaxed as always. "Sure."

Donghyuck squeezes his older friend in a hug that only gets a groan out of Taeil (and a little smile) before throwing an arm each on your shoulders, and screams to the rest. "Everybody, we got Moon Taeil!"

A punch from your fist to his ribs. A little groan followed by a laugh coming out of his mouth and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. He's quick to correct himself.

"I got Moon Taeil and y/n! And we're gonna kick your butts!"

Thursday, 6:22 p.m.

It's been a long time since Donghyuck has had a girl in his room.

It's not like Yuta was right when he said he can't pull anyone, Donghyuck just hasn't had the time nor the energy. His break and free time to do whatever he wants just started. Even when Mark's not home most of the nights, it doesn't feel quite right to him to bring girls over to his shared bedroom when his roommate could come back at any time. And even if he had wished to bring any girls home during his break, he knew you would be here, so he didn't wanna do that either. (Not that he's bothered that he can't bring girls home because of you. Actually he'd rather have you inside his bedroom than anyone else.)

So when he's watching you laying on his bed, reading a silly high-school novel you got from your brother's library and quietly keeping him company while he studies, his heart-rate fastens and he feels his cheeks rise its temperature. He grows embarrassed when, after seeing you smile so sweetly at him when you catch his eyes on you, the only thing he can think of is leaving those stupid Relativity notes behind, running over to your spot and stealing a kiss from your lips.

Yet Donghyuck remains motionless at his desk. He inwardly curses when you get up and start walking toward him, and wishes you wouldn't ask why he's so red because he can't blame it on the weather—it's the middle of winter.

To his surprise, you're curious about a totally different thing.

"What are you doing with all these comics?" you ask, picking up one of his Flash comics and opening it to a spot that Donghyuck has marked with a post it.

"I'm taking a class about Quantum Physics and Relativity and catching up on some work," he starts explaining, all his romantic fantasies put on pause to focus on the second thing (after you) that occupies his mind the most these days: college.

He watches your eyes grow with interest after hearing the name of his class, and he can't deny he gets all excited thinking about the possibilities: of having a girlfriend that would hear him talk about what he's most passionate about all he wanted. Knowing how much you've always enjoyed hearing the new things he's learned and about his most recent investigations, and noticing his feelings for you have only increased since you came back, Donghyuck's mind wonders.

"You know in the comics Flash supposedly travels at speeds close to light, right?" He watches you nod. "And he throws this infinite mass punch… Well, in one of the comics Flash punches this villain, and his fist is so powerful the villain will fly all over the ocean and land in another continent," he keeps explaining. "What are the chances of this actually happening, analyzing it from the relativistic perspective? That's what I'm looking into."

"And have you arrived to any conclusions?"

"Yeah, I have actually." He stars searching for a specific piece of paper which displays a bunch of calculations and formulas that you don't understand at all, but they look awesome.

Donghyuck doesn't wait for a specific reaction, yet your response cracks him up a little.

"Could you explain this for me? Dummy level?" you ask wrinkling your nose. Donghyuck wants to kiss the confusion off your face.

Honestly, he might be looking for any excuses to kiss you at this point. But, to be fair, he's liked you since that first time he cooked ramen for you the night you met—that was like four years ago. The only reason he has never made a move on you is because you're his friend's sister.

"Yeah, yeah I can do that." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking these ideas out of his head once more. "Basically, that the mass of his punch is 'infinite' is a consequence of the relativistic effects of travelling at speeds near to light." He points at a calculation on the paper. "And if Flash punches you on the face he won't send you flying to another continent."

This time, Donghyuck watches the disappointment take over your features; smile and shoulders dropping at the same time. "He won't?"

Donghyuck denies with his head. "You would disintegrate in an instant. The energy of his punch is 750,000 times greater than the energy released by an atomic bomb exploding in your face."

You're not saying anything. You're just looking right into his eyes and it's making Donghyuck considerably nervous. Thankfully, he's been sitting all this time, because considering how close you're standing in front of him he's sure his knees would've given up on him a while ago.

He gulps. "I did the maths."

"You're a fucking genious."

Donghyuck melts hearing you praise his work.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Mark says as he waits for you at the room’s door.

Right, you and your brother were scheduled to have dinner together.

Donghyuck doesn't want you to go just yet, he doesn't want to stop chatting with you about irrelevant-to-the-society stuff like this, but he understands this is one of the few moments you’ll get to hang out with Mark alone, so he doesn’t tag alone when Mark offers him to.

“I’ll just have a light dinner and study a little bit more,” he politely declines. Then, he’s looking into your eyes once again. “Wanna chill together when you’re done with your brother?”

“You wanna watch Oppenheimer?”

Does he want to spend three hours watching a movie about an international bunch of nerds who just argue for more than two thirds of the plot, and some awfully awkward scenes of Mr. Oppenheimer flirting using physics that he definitely didn’t think of replicating with you? Again?

Donghyuck thinks you might be the love of his life.

“Of-fucking-course I wanna watch Oppenheimer.” He thinks this might be a better answer, rather than confessing his undying love to you (in front of his best friend) (that is your brother.)

“Nobody’s gonna ask me if I want to watch Oppenheimer?” Mark questions with arms crossed and narrowed eyes.

“Mark, you were snoring inside the movie theater when we went to watch it together.”

“I had a long day, dude!”

“You literally came out of the theater and said ‘this was fucking boring for a World War Two movie’!”

“Well, I mean yeah–” Mark starts trying to defend himself but gets interrupted by you, when you start pushing him towards the door saying you’re hungry, and reminding him how most of the times they argue he can never win against Donghyuck. “But you gotta accept it was missing a little action, man.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, and then looks at your brother with his eyes squinted and a fake smile. “They were scientists, Mark, not soldiers–”

“Whatever!” you say when you’ve managed to get your brother out of the room. “We’re leaving. Hyuck–” Donghyuck notices his eyebrows relax, and the frown he had while arguing with Mark is gone as soon as you’re calling his name with a smile on your lips. “Looking forward to movie night.”

“I’ll get some beers for us,” Donghyuck adds, to which you agree excitedly.

Mark sighs once you’re on your way out of the apartment. “I swear to God,” he starts. “You two are like made for each other.”

You just punch his shoulder as a defense mechanism, not knowing how to react or manage your emotions when it comes to Donghyuck. And you definitely don't know Donghyuck catches a glimpse of your smile and your reddened cheeks before you close the front door.

That simple thing, maybe gives Donghyuck a little hope.

Friday, 11:13 a.m.

You can't believe you're jealous of a dog.

You watch the video play over and over on your phone screen. Donghyuck was literally rubbing his face on the little fur ball, using it as some kind of cotton pad, then showering the dog with kisses all over her little face.

Chenle's friends with the boys and he recently got a dog that he named Daegal. Today, Chenle and Mark were going to be working together since early and Chenle didn't want to leave the dog alone. Apparently, Donghyuck and Daegal love each other, and that's the reason why you're currently at Chenle's, at fucking eleven in the morning during your break.

Donghyuck and you were the designated babysitters of the dog.

You wonder over the video on your phone a little more, thinking of what to put as a caption to share it on your story. Maybe some emojis? Some angry emojis because Donghyuck won't even look at you now that he's with the doggie? Maybe cute emojis… Something like a sun, a heart, and a dog. Maybe the caption boyfriend material, or something in the lines of pay attention to me followed by some exclamation points.

You decide to post it with the text 'taking good care of the baby' and tagging Donghyuck and Chenle's account. It doesn't take long for two notifications to arrive. One is from Donghyuck, who just re-uploaded your story, and the other is a reply from Chenle. 'Who's the baby? Donghyuck or Daegal?' followed by a cracking up emoji.

A smile takes over your face reading it, and it stays there when you get your head up and your eyes meet Donghyuck, who's laying relaxed on the couch with the little fur ball on top of his belly. He has his cute transparent glasses on, and he's wearing some comfy pants and a hoodie that makes him look incredibly cozy and huggable.

His eyes find yours, and an arm extends in your direction, inviting you to join him on the couch with a pat besides his spot. His body radiates an enveloping heat that makes you forget it's winter, but it seems that it's not enough for Donghyuck, who grabs one of the soft blankets laying around the couch and puts it over the three of you.

The characteristic sound of Netflix reaches your ears and then Donghyuck is looking for the drama that you started watching together a couple of weeks ago, from your homes and when you both had some free time through Netflix Party. The third episode of My First True Love starts playing on the TV screen while you wait for the food you ordered earlier, and you feel content. Everything about the situation is too domestic and feels familiar, and you're not surprised when you think that you wouldn't mind getting used to this.

What is a surprise is when Donghyuck puts his arm over your head and offers you to get closer to him, resting a little more on his body.

"This is nice." You hear him say, almost in a whisper. The midday sun illuminates almost as much as his smile when you look up at him.

"It is," you agree, focusing once again at the TV (because looking at him was making you melt inside.)

"We could do it more often."

And by the increasing rate of his heart and the soft caresses in your hair, you knew he didn't mean just babysitting Daegal.

(Still) Friday, 04:02 p.m.

Donghyuck wakes up from his nap on the couch to the smell of coffee and missing the warmth from his two personal heaters, Daegal and you, who he remembers were still with him before he fell asleep. He sits and stretches in his place before moving towards the kitchen, where he already visualized your figure in front of the counter, with your back to him. You don't seem to notice him, so as he walks into the kitchen, he makes sure to greet you with a little hello.

You just look over your right shoulder at him, but you have to raise your head because Donghyuck is closer than expected. You greet him in the same way, but with a sweet smile on your face. "Hi, Hyuck."

Now that Donghyuck is so close, he can notice that the smell of coffee is coming from the machine in front of you that is filling two mugs with particular writings: one says 'best dad in the world', and the other says 'MARK' in big colorful letters (someone also took it upon themselves to print a photo of Mark holding a watermelon on it.)

"Chenle's mugs are fucking weird, don't you think?"

Donghyuck laughs hearing your question and decides to explain. "These are part of an inside joke. Chenle always says someone like Mark would be his ideal son, so your brother got these made for Chenle for last year's fathers' day." He finishes standing against the counter by your side, and thanks you when you handle him a warm home-made latte.

Donghyuck can't take coffee so well since most of the time it makes his stomach hurt, and you know this.

"You don't have to drink it. I remember you're not good with coffee," you tell him, but it's too late when Donghyuck's already sipping the first drink.

Yeah, he might have to use Chenle's bathroom later, but he's willing to face a shit rather than miss out on the opportunity to share a coffee made by you, on a winter afternoon where it's just the two of you and the sun filtering through the kitchen window falling on your face.

"I just thought it would've been disrespectful not making you one too."

You finish your sentence but smile watching him enjoying the coffee anyway, and Donghyuck thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's a little in love with you.

So he takes a deep breath, takes a lot of courage, and sets out to do what works best for him when it comes to you: pretend he's joking when in reality he's only on the verge of confessing his feelings. "Do I have something in my lips?"

"You do, actually," you answer his question pointing at your own upper lip with your finger to make him understand. "A little bit of foam around here–"

"Please do the Secret Garden scene."

"What?"

He's not hesitant to repeat it. Donghyuck internally questions himself though, wondering where all this confidence has come from. Because, yes, Donghyuck is very confident, naturally. But not when it comes to you. His knees go weak and his stomach starts to ache with nerves when he thinks of things like kissing you. In that sense, he will not waste this sudden confidence-rush.

"Please do the Secret Garden with me."

And this time around he can confirm you understood 100% what he means because your laugh and your punch on his arm indicate it. He notices it might be a reflex act of yours—punching people in the arm when you get nervous or don't know what to retort. He's glad he won't have to worry about punching mean guys when he makes you his girlfriend, though; you'll probably take care of that yourself.

Donghyuck still catches you staring at his lips the moment he gets rid of the foam with his tongue. And when you snap out of your trance, your eyes meet Donghyuck's and his eyebrows that move up and down, just to tease you a little more. A mischievous smile is also adorning his face.

He only watches you shake your head while your cheeks grow red, even when you try to hide it behind that big mug with the picture of your brother holding the watermelon.

"Anyway," he decides it will be better to change subjects. "Where's Daegal?"

"I thought she was sleeping with you?" You ask before you start looking around the place for the little fur ball.

"I mean, she was as long as I remember." Donghyuck watches you leave the kitchen and move around the living room, checking every corner for the dog you two were supposed to sacrifice your life for if needed (that's how Chenle described the seriousness of the duty). "You were too…" But you're far enough not to hear the disappointment in Donghyuck's voice after waking up all alone.

"She wasn't here when you woke up?" you ask, standing in front of the couch.

Donghyuck shakes his head no. You start picking up the tangle of blankets and throwing them in the direction of Donghyuck, who hardly catches them in his arms. It's confirmed that Daegal hasn't been trapped under the blankets and at least she hasn't suffocated to death. Although that doesn't give any of you any comfort; the doggie still is nowhere around.

"Oh my fucking god," you say, trapping your head in your hands. "We lost Chenle's dog."

"She has to be somewhere around."

"We lost Chenle's dog and we didn't even go out with her," he hears you repeat all the way from Chenle's bedroom, where Donghyuck checks if the little dog is hiding. He looks under the bed, inside the closet, and inside the bathroom, only to find nothing. "We must be the dumbest babysitters in the world," you finish when he's back in the living room.

He looks down at the watch on his wrist and notices it's almost four thirty, which makes him start to sweat from the nerves. "Chenle's about to come back. We need to find this dog right now."

"Chenle's gonna kill us."

"y/n, just look for the dog."

"He will find out and probably hire a contract killer to deal with us for losing his baby." Donghyuck sees your desperation and calls your name once more, but you don't listen to him. "I'll never see Baekhyun live again!"

And the doorbell rings, followed by a knock on the door and Chenle's screams coming from outside, telling you to let him in.

"Fuck my life," Donghyuck mutters and goes to open the door.

"Hyuck!" you hiss while following him closely. "What are you gonna tell him?"

He silences you, looking back at you and placing his index finger over his lips. Donghyuck takes a deep breath, puts his hand on the handle, sweats a little more despite fighting to calm his nerves, and finally opens the door. Mark is the first to enter, anyway, and he doesn't greet any of you; he simply calls for Daegal, and Donghyuck knows that this is the moment where he should start begging Chenle to let him keep his life and promise him that he will find another dog that looks exactly like–

"Daegal!"

Like the little white ball of fur in your brother's arms.

Donghyuck looks back at you once more, his eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment, and you return an equally astonished look.

"Thanks guys for taking good care of the baby," Chenle says once he's done greeting his dog, who appeared literally out of nowhere and left you and Donghyuck stressed enough for probably three or four months. "She didn't give you any problem, right?"

"Oh, no. Definitely, no." Donghyuck and you are quick to deny at the same time, which might sound a little suspicious as Chenle looks at both of you with narrowed eyes.

Then, he's moving his head to focus his gaze on the mess you left behind when you were rummaging through the couch and the blankets, looking for the dog. "Alright, lovebirds. Then I hope that disaster isn't because you two fucked on my couch while I was gone."

part two coming next week !

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm

#haechan #haechan x reader #nct fanfic #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #zh-lele

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

im not sure if this is an ask but ive been thinking about skz with a younger sister reader who debuts as an idol !! imagine her being in newjeans since skz already enjoy their songs (looking at changbin and lee know 👀) I think it would be so cute !! them cheering her on and singing her songs at award shows !! or even them mcing together or meeting at isac 💗💕💖

its just something I wanted to share and I enjoy your posts so much I thought I would drop it here to see what you think 😭😭💗 feel free to write about it tho if you would like !!! 🫶🫶

so say it ditto

stray kids x sister!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 0.7k

summary: the boys support their sister's venture in joining newjeans

I hope you enjoy! Sorry it's a little bit crappy haha, but if you did enjoy or wanna be added to my taglist then let me know! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Being the youngest of your siblings, and all of your older brothers having debuted in a Kpop group together, called Stray Kids, you had definitely felt the pressure to debut. Your family was complicated, yes, with your mum having multiple different partners in the past, the reason why most of your siblings had different surnames, sans a few of you.

Meaning Lee Know's dad had been out of the picture until your mother rekindled her relationship with him and that's how Felix came about. But she had been staying with your dad, the one you shared with Jeongin, and you think she was settled now.

With this stability it felt like the pressure lessened yet you wanted to show your brothers too that you could do what they do. You could copy them. You could imitate them. Like ditto.

They were so proud when you debuted in NewJeans, alongside your fellow members, Hanni, Haerin, Minji, Danielle and Hyein. They'd be constantly sending messages to their fans over bubble and texting you directly as well about how excited they were for you.

Some fans thought that it had been done on purpose. You were already known in the public eye as Stray Kid's younger sister, but now you had created an image for yourself. And quite frankly, with how viral your songs had gone, you didn't need that label attached to you to be successful.

And your brothers never failed in reminding you just how viral your songs were. Whether it was through tiktoks they uploaded or if it was clips you had seen of them singing karaoke. Not to mention the videos they'd send into the groupchat.

"Cuz I-I-I-I! Know what you like boy!!!" Changbin yelled into his phone, before Lee Know and Han came up behind him in the video and screamed the second line.

"Thank you, brothers, I can no longer hear," you deadpanned into your own phone camera as you sent back a video of your own, which was meant with either laughing messages or mocking ones.

But those are brothers for you.

You couldn't even avoid their teasing when you were working too. You were MCing for Music Bank, where they had just performed their new song 'S-CLASS'. And now it was time for you to interview them.

"Welcome back to Music Bank! We're joined with Stray Kids who just performed their new song, 'S-CLASS', here they are, jaaa," you introduced them and made a cute little awkward sound, one that resembled Seungmin's 'Staaa'.

Chan and Felix, who were stood right next to you, did their best to muffle their laughs as the camera panned to them. You were thankful for that because it meant you could fan your flustered face.

"Jaaa, 1, 2, 3. Step out! We are Stray Kids!" Chan led your brothers into their introduction, making fun of the little sound you made.

"Hyunjin ssi," you began professionally, making the others gasp.

"Ssi? I'm your brother!" Hyunjin gasped, and you looked panicked at the camera before seeing the crew laughing as well.

"Yahhhhh! They pranked me saying I needed to be formal!" you whined as you crouched down with your cue cards.

"Ok, let's try this again, welcome Stray Kids oppas!!" you smile this time and the interview went much more smoothly, yet you still sighed with relief once it was over. It had been even more difficult this time as you were handling it on your own without your usual co-host.

"Wow that was the hardest interview I've ever done! And we've had all of Seventeen sunbaenim here," you rested your hands on your hips as you looked up sternly at your brothers from backstage.

"Just because our little Y/Nnie was nervous," Seungmin ruffled your hair, making you groan as you pushed him away.

"Hey, hey, she's still new to all this," Felix helped you flatten out your hair.

"I'm doing good though, right?" you looked up hopefully, not joking around this time and wanting their approval.

"Are you kidding me? Of course you are!" Han burst out.

"Your songs are so addictive as well, you're really going on a good path here," Changbin nodded as well.

"We're all proud of you," Jeongin nodded patting you on the shoulders.

"You're doing so great," Lee Know nodded too.

And that was exactly what you needed. Even though it was an awkward funny interview, having their reassurance meant the world to you.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz sister #stray kids sister

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lxclerc · 10 months

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... charles' lonely call breaks your heart further requested... yes! warning... angst pairing... charles leclerc x reader

note... a little drabble requested back in november 2022. i'm so sorry for it being super super super late but if whoever requested it is still here then i hope you enjoy it! feedbacks are very much appreciated and encourages me to write more! extra note... also i'm taking a semester gap year so i will be trying to post more and get through requests so let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

you’re exhausted, having just got home from a forty eight hour shift. being a surgical resident is absolute hell and you’re not quite sure how you’re managing but somehow you’d manage to drag yourself back home, frowning as you reach for the light switch only to find the wall empty.

right. you’re in your own apartment, a place you hadn’t really lived at for months. mostly you’d come here when you needed something but more times than not, you go home to his apartment. it had been your home rather than this sad, lonely place void of his laughter.

you sigh, letting your bag drop to your thrifted couch. you suddenly wished you’d stayed in the hospital on call room instead of here. being back in this place reminds you of all the things you no longer have, of the person you no longer call yours.

god the self pity is getting tiring and you’re far too tired for another midnight crying session and so after washing the grime off your skin, you’d settled on your sofa with a bag of chips, flipping on the TV to some trashy american series to drown out your loneliness.

however, as fate would unfortunately have it, you hadn’t even reached the second episode before your phone started ringing, his smiling face displayed on the screen. you’d frozen on your spot. you remember the exact date you’d taken that photo of him and you still had the ringtone you specifically chose for him.

you’re haunted, your body full of memories and his fingerprints imprinted in your soul. even now, three weeks, two days and twelve hours since he’d called it off, he still haunts. you wanted to let out a bitter laugh as the ringing stopped. who’s counting right?

you refused to be his lonely call. you might be absolutely miserable and pathetic but you respect yourself enough for that. you won’t be his lonely call just because his friends and his girls are gone. you’d been his six am good morning but you will never be his midnight number whenever he starts wondering if he’d made the wrong choice.

your phone lights up again but you let it ring. if he had more things to say to you then he can say it after the beep.

he calls more times after that, keeping you awake as you stare at your ringing phone. a few times, you catch yourself reaching for it, reminding yourself that he’d been the one to make this choice. he’d been the one to make excuses about both your schedules being too much. and it was so unfair how he tormented you for it. this entire thing was unfair. you were willing to give everything to charles. you loved him far too much and you’d been under the impression that he felt the same but if he was willing to give you up so easily, did he really love you as much as he claimed he did?

he’d made his bed and now he needed to get used to sleeping on it.

it was around two am when he finally stopped calling and you’re sure you’ll have a headache come tomorrow morning from staying up too late. you decide to call it a night and end your self inflicted torture, putting your phone on silent as you turned off the TV and chucked your empty bag of chips in the trash. you were just about to turn off the light when the knock came and you knew without checking exactly who it was.

you sigh, frozen in your tracks as the knocks became more and more insistent.

“y/n,” his voice is rough, scratchy as though he’d spent the entire night screaming at the top of his lungs and you felt a tear slip down your cheeks. he sounded so broken. maybe as broken as you felt. “s'il te plaît, mon amour.” please, my love.

you stay rooted to your place. this is unfair. this is so fucking unfair. he’d been the one to give up. charles gave you up. how dare he come crawling to you now?

“Je suis désolé. Je suis désolé. Je pensais que je pourrais apprendre à moins t'aimer. Tu me manques,” he rambles. “i miss you so fucking much i didn’t even think it was possible, baby.” I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought I could learn to love you less. I miss you.

a sob rocks your body as you fall to the floor, clutching yourself as though you’re trying to hold yourself together.

“please, baby,” he begs and you can hear the way he’s crying too. “J'ai besoin de toi.” i need you.

and then you open the door. because you loved him too much. because you could never give up on him.

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @writing-about-current-obsessions @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerr @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

reach out, touch faith

In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | Trusting Joel to take you to the place he calls home is difficult, but it's your only real choice now. It brings back memories of the last time you trusted someone enough to follow them, and look how that turned out?

Chapter Warnings | Canon-typical violence, mentions & allusions to child death, mentions of PTSD, descriptions of & allusions to cult activities, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, pining, strained parental relationships, no use of y/n, italics indicate a flashback scene.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.3K

Authors Note | Thank you for being so patience in waiting for this next part. I've rekindled my love for this little series and I'm excited to show you more of what's coming with this little band of travellers. If you enjoyed then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with your thoughts! And if you enjoyed, please consider supporting me with a tip through my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on post notifications to know when I post new writing.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel doesn’t really know what to do. He’s never been the best at consoling people, especially people he doesn’t really know. What’s he supposed to do? The way you’ve flinched at him every time he’s tried to touch you suggests that trying to hug you is probably going to make things worse. He’s still reeling from the information you’ve just thrown at him, and it somehow makes the situation worse. He was yours. How the hell is he meant to make this better now? Sure, anyone’s child dying is the worst thing that can happen, pure innocence snuffed out and for what reason? But the fact that Edward was yours, your flesh and blood, it's so much worse. He can yet again feel his own panic rising as your sobs continue, tears streaming down your face, hands shaking. He simply doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey,” He says softly, shaking your knees with his hands, “Hey, just look at me for a second, okay?”

You don’t, you just stare blankly into the fire behind his shoulder as you cry, so he moves his head into your eyeline, searching your eyes with his own, “Hey, can I touch you?” He asks, realizing as soon as the words have left his mouth how bad that must sound, “Just let me hug you, okay?”

When you don’t move away from him or tell him otherwise, he moves forward a little, moving tentatively so as not to spook you. He gently moves one hand to rest at your head, pulling your wet, puffy face to the crook of his neck, his other arm moving around your back. He stays like that for as long as you need, palm running over your hair, the other still on your back to try and ground you. Soon, the racking sobs have stopped, you’re silent now. And then he feels your arms wrap around him. He’s too broad for your hands to meet around his back, but your hands rest behind him as you soothe yourself.

“I’m tired,” You mumble into the skin of his neck, breath ghosting against him, “I’m so fucking tired Joel.”

He thinks that you perhaps might not just mean tonight – thinks you might be tired of it all, and he understands, because for so long he was tired too. He chooses to work with the immediate though. He ignores the screaming of his knees and his back as he scoops you up, walking slowly to the room you’d claimed as your own, careful not to knock your head on the door frame as he walks in. When he sets you down gently onto the bed, you’re already mostly asleep. It’s cold in here, he thinks, so he peels back the covers and drapes them over your body, and then takes his jacket off for good measure and places it on top of the sheets.

He wants to turn and leave, leave you in peace, give your privacy, but if his experience is anything to go by, these nights will be the darkest. You’ll dream about it, over and over again, replay everything that went wrong, every other possible way this could have ended. You’ll wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, then struggle to get back to sleep. He doesn’t know what brought you here, but he sure as hell knows it isn’t good, thinks you’ve probably been living with fighting on your own for too long. So, he stays. He takes his boots off, props the pillows up against the headboard, and lies there, listening to the way you breathe in your sleep, keeping a lookout for any signs of distress. He sighs to himself, resigned to another night of no sleep.

Joel gives you two more days until he issues his ultimatum. Two days of trying to make it through the day without breaking in front of the children, and evenings where you do nothing but cry, sometimes into Joel’s shoulder, sometimes into your pillow. The children are outside playing in a moment without rain when he comes to stand next to you.

“I have to go back,” He speaks softly, because it’s true, you think, his community will be looking for him, “You don’t have to come, I don’t expect you to trust me enough to follow me yet, but I think it would be for the best.”

“How far is it?” You ask without looking at him.

“With them?” He nods his head to the children, “Three weeks.”

“And they’ll accept us?”

“Long as you do as I say when we get there, yes.”

“And you promise, if I catch a single whiff of something being off, I can leave?” You bite at the skin on the inside of your mouth until it bleeds, weighing up what following Joel actually means.

He holds his palms up in surrender, “You can go anytime.”

You take in a deep breath, worst comes to worst, you can always shoot him if he doesn’t stay true to his word. So you nod. You agree.

“We can leave tomorrow morning.”

You know, as soon as you step into the community behind this bastard of a man, that it’s been a trap all along. It’s nothing big, a few dilapidated lodges in a clearing – there isn’t even a wall, but as he leads you down the middle of the street, something feels off and it has everything to do with the people staring at you. It doesn’t matter how many pairs of eyes you have on you as you grip your gun by your side, they’re all women. Some older than others, but from what you can see, you’re the youngest by far, apart from the children.

They aren’t playing, they don’t seem like children as you remember them. Even in the QZ they’d still been able to run around, find moments of joy in the darkness. There are five that you can see, stood next to women who you think must be their mother’s. Silently staring at you, following you with their eyes as John leads you and your mother into the lodge at the end of the street.

He opens the door, waving you both inside, and you’re furious at the way your mother does as she’s told. You take too long for his liking to step over the threshold, so he takes hold of your shoulder and shoves you through the door, shutting it behind him and standing in front of it, your one exit blocked.

“Your possessions, if you please,” He speaks, sickly sweet, gesturing his hand for you and your mother to put your bags and weapons on the table in the middle of the room, “You’ll get them back soon enough, but we must make sure you don’t have anything dangerous.”

You feel like a deer caught in headlights as your mother does exactly as she’s told. Places her backpack on the table and takes the knife she has from her pocket and sets it next to the bag. John smiles at her, a horrible, toothy grin, which quickly fades when he looks to you.

“And you, little dove,” He croons, it makes you shiver, “You’re not going to cause trouble already, are you?”

You already know there isn’t a chance in hell of you getting your things back, but you do as he says anyway, setting your pack and your gun on the table, but keeping your hunting knife concealed in the waistband of your jeans under the flannel shirt you’re wearing. He seems satisfied - stupid man - you think, as he walks further into the room, opening a large chest.

When he stands, he’s holding white material in his hands, he offers one to your mother, who unravels it to reveal a white dress. He hands you a similar bundle of material, when unraveled it’s another white dress, slightly different in style and size to the one your mother is holding up against her body. What the fuck kind of place have you walked into?

“It will help you fit in,” He explains, “The rest of the folk here dress like this, so it’ll help show them you’re one of us now.”

Something inside you thinks that whatever the women here do, it’s not through choice of their own but you decide not to talk back, following closely behind your mother as John opens the door and leads you back outside and into another lodge down the street, if you could even call it a street.

He opens the door, inside is a woman who you think must be your mother’s age, a baby cradled in her arms which she is rocking back and forth. It’s making tiny, gurgling sounds as if it’s just been fed.

“This is Alice,” John introduces, “You’ll stay here with her, and she can help you get acquainted with the way we do things here,” Alice turns and nods her head at him, much like you imagined people would do when they met royalty, “Dinner will be at sundown.”

With the baby clutched to her, Alice silently motions for you both to follow her. She leads you up the stairs and opens one of the doors. Inside, it’s simple, two single beds, one chest of drawers but nothing much else.

“You sleep here,” She speaks, her voice quiet and meek, “And please change,” She motions to your dresses, “It’ll make things easier.”

She closes the door behind her, and you can hear her footsteps retreating down the stairs. Your mother is already stripping out of her normal clothes and draping the white dress over her body. It doesn’t fit her properly, it’s too big. The hemline ghosts at the ground, long sleeves taper in at her wrists. She looks fucking ridiculous, you think.

“You heard her,” She chastises, “Get changed.”

Oh, so now you want to pretend you’re in charge. You suck your teeth in frustration, but take off your shirt anyway, letting the white material slip over you. You keep your jeans on, more as a place to keep your knife concealed than anything else. You can’t help the smug feeling that fills you when you realise your dress fits you perfectly. You don’t look nearly as stupid as your mother does in hers. Yours is a different style. Still long enough to ghost the ground by your boots, but the neckline is cut differently, dipping down to show off the swell of your breasts, and your arms are shorter, cut off just below your shoulders. You don’t think you’d ever worn something like this in your life. If it weren’t for the situation, you find yourself in, you’d start to think you actually looked nice.

Your mother opts to head back downstairs – maybe thinking she can entice Alice into a conversation, but she’s silent. She just sits on the couch and rocks her baby, vacant expression in her eyes, ignores your mother when she asks questions. The only time she really moves is when there’s a faint sound of a ringing bell. She stands, places the baby in a crib set in the living room and just motions for you to follow her.

It's when you sit down that you realise quite how fucked you are. John sits at the head of the table, because of course he does, but just as you’d suspected, the only other people sat at the table are women, apart from some of the small children who are boys. All dressed in similar white dresses to you. All wearing a similar vacant expression as Alice was. There’s a door behind John that opens, and two women, both clearly pregnant, but one further along than the other, bring out pots full of what looks like stew when it’s spooned into the bowl in front of you.

You go to pick up the spoon and start eating, but the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention to the end of the table. It’s John, and when you look down, every single one of the women is holding hands with those sat next to them. An old woman sat next to you, graying hair and wrinkled face, has her palm up, waiting for you to slip your hand in her own. You set the spoon down and give her your hand, then John speaks.

“To our most gracious Lord, we extend our thanks to you for keeping us safe in these troubled times and for providing us with a meal to sustain us, amen.”

There is a small murmur of ‘amens’ around the table and then everyone picks up their spoons and begins to eat, although you’ve truly lost your appetite. All you can think is how the fuck you’re going to get out of here.

The next morning, when you set off from the safety of the cabin, you realise just how slow you are as a group. When you’d first arrived at your cabin, just you and the children, it hadn’t felt like it had taken that long to find your place of safety, but maybe that’s because you’d still had that adrenaline running through you. Now, as you walk behind Joel, who always seems to be fast enough to be feet away from you, you realise just how long this trek through the woods is going to take.

The eldest two children walk by your side – you walk slowly enough that they can keep up with you, but after a few hours, you realise Isabel is who is going to slow you down the most, so you opt to pick her up and carry her on your hip. She’s almost too big for this, her weight making your arms ache, but for the sake of making this quicker, you suffer on, shifting her around every now and then as you follow Joel, eyes always trained on the back of his head.

You stop that night in a clearing. The air is cool and it’s the first time in a long time that the children have had nothing but the solid ground to sleep on, but they don’t seem to mind, settling underneath the jacket that Joel had shrugged off, using yours as a scrunched-up pillow. You’re sitting with your back against the trunk of a tree, knees pulled up to your chest, Joel is sitting in a similar manner across from you.

“I can help carry her.” He speaks softly across the clearing.

You shake your head with a resolute and stern “No.” Thrown in his direction.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “You gonna carry her the whole way?” He challenges, and the ache that’s settled in your arms tells you he’s right, you aren't, “I don’t know what you’re scared of but I’m not going to do anythin’ to her.”

It’s a question you don’t really know how to answer, because you think deep down that you know he won’t hurt her. He’s done nothing but protect you since he crashed into your life – he’s fed you, protected you, carried your dead son and buried him, he slept next to you, as far away as he could get, didn’t try and touch you without permission. Everything he’s done so far has proved he’s a good man. It could still be some kind of sick joke though, that he’s leading you somewhere bad, that he could pick Isabel up and run off with her, or hurt her.

“I get it,” He murmurs now, “I’m a random guy that’s turned up and caused a lot’a trouble, and I’m takin’ you somewhere new and that’s scary,” He exhales a big sigh, “But I promise I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I know somethin’ bad’s happened to you before,” He signal to his own neck where that horrible scar sits on you, “I know whatever happened to you, to these kids,” He nods to where they’re sleeping, “Must'a been bad, and I don’t know how anyone could hurt you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m tryin’ to,” He defends, “I’m tryin’ to help you as well.”

“I’m not-” You shake your head, “Just been alone a long time, I’m not used to having to trust people.”

“It’s gonna take time,” He admits, his own mind flashing back to how long it took him to trust anyone in this new world, “And I’m not askin’ for it all at once, just let me help a little, alright?”

You’re silent, because you don’t really want to admit you need help. You’ve been fine on your own, with the children, for so long, and he’s wandered into your life and set off a chain of events you aren’t sure you’re actually going to recover from. You don’t need him, not really, is what you think as you focus your attention to the ground where the children are sleeping.

Joel takes the silence as conversation over. He won’t push you, he knows it’ll probably end in tears if he does, but the next morning, when you pack all your things away and get ready to move on, instead of hiking Isabel into your own arms, you gently push at her shoulders to get her to walk towards Joel.

“How about you hitch a ride with him this morning?” You ask softly, bent to her height.

Joel kneels too, trying to make himself look less intimidating to her, although he doesn’t think it really works from the way she tries to scurry back into your arms. He thinks about how Sarah was at her age, so unsure of the big people around her, scared of anyone that wasn’t him.

He stretches out one of his big hands to her, “Come on,” He coaxes gently, “You ever ridden first class on a pair of shoulders before?”

Isabel sucks on her thumb a little, but shakes her head to tell him no, “It’s the best thing,” Joel adds, “You’ll see everything from up here.”

That seems to do it, because with another nudge from you she’s walking over and putting her impossibly small hand into Joel’s. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone this small, apart from Tommy’s baby. He hauls her up with ease, settling her on his shoulders, just like he promised. He’s got hold of her legs to keep her steady as he starts walking, trying to dampen the lump in his throat and the tears that are springing to his eyes. It’s so familiar, the way the weight of her sat there feels. If he closes his eyes, he’s back in Austin, walking through the park with Sarah sat up there, pointing out birds and butterflies and trying to keep her steady when she squeals with excitement.

He's sure that this might be his undoing, he thinks as he walks slowly, accounting for the other children that are following behind, each one clasping one of your hands tightly. How has he allowed himself to care this quickly for you and the children that follow you? How has he managed to go so fucking soft already? He can’t explain it, the way your sweetness has sunk under his skin. He knows there’s something more to you, he’s going to try and coax it out of you if he possibly can, but he’s sure that whatever you might have to say to him, whatever it is you’re going to tell him that happened to you, is only going to make him more likely to protect you, to lay down everything to keep you safe, and it scares him. Where is the Joel he knows? The closed off, grumpy man who won’t let anyone in? Where is that man he knows like the back of his hand, and is too late to go and find him? He thinks it probably is when he hears the slight chuckle from the girl sat on his shoulders, who’s pointing her hand at the butterfly that floats past them in mid-air. He’s fucked, he thinks, and for once, he thinks he might just be okay with that.

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starcrossedslytherin · 1 year

Text

Point to the Sky

Sebastian Sallow x reader

WC: 3.4K

A/N: First fic here! Bit nervous to post this, but I’m doing so anyway! I wanted to write for hogwarts legacy and Harry Potter characters (specifically the marauders), so I started a new blog to do so! I really appreciate feedback!

Summary: After Sebastian calls you ignorant despite all you do to help him, you need some time to yourself to blow off steam. Unfortunately, the presence of Ashwinders and your lack of Wiggenweld potions leads to other plans.

---

How did you get here?

How did you get here, bleeding out in the middle of a bandit camp.

You never think things through, you should have thought this through.

It was Sebastian’s fault, it truly was. No matter the fact it was your decision to head out to the highlands today, to stay away from the Castle, or Hogsmeade, or Feldcroft, or anywhere Sebastian would go. It was his fault you needed to get away.

You would do anything for him. You do everything for him. And he does nothing but blame you, call you ignorant, disregard all you’ve done to help Anne, all the pressure and stress this year, your first year at Hogswarts, has put onto you.

Doesn’t he understand?

Doesn’t anybody understand?

Now, none of that seemed to matter. You had decided after your fight with Sebastian you needed out, that anywhere he might be would be insufferable. Claire Beaumont had asked you to clear out two Goblin encampments, which lead you to clearing out more and more and soon you were exhausted, running on pure adrenaline and rage.

That’s when you were caught off guard by diffindo casted at you, ripping through your chest and down your dominant arm. You had let out a scream at the time, falling to your knees and clutching your fresh wounds, swearing blood all throughout your robes. You barely remember blocking the next curse sent your way, returning a stunning spelling and depluso, sending your enemy into a collision with a building nearby which crumpled on top of them.

You finally let yourself collapse, a sob escapes as you allow the day to take its toll on you. Sweat and blood were smeared across your face and you were terrified of letting go of your arm, too afraid to look down at the damage because you knew it was bad. You could feel by the wet spot continuously growing bigger through the torn fabric.

Wiggenweld potions!

They had healed you a million times with injuries almost as bad, surely they get the job done here. You had dropped your bag when the duel had first began and with a little groaning and a lot of pain, you manage to your feet and grab your bag.

Empty.

You let out a weak scream. You knew it would be. You had made more potions last night in the Room of Requirement but you didn’t think to grab them, saving them for a time you planned to go out, not a spontaneous anger trip because you were fighting with… with Sebastian.

The thought of him almost hurt as much as the physical pain you’ve been in. Just yesterday you thought maybe… maybe there could be more between the two of you and today you were cursing Ashwinders because of him.

And yet, you still wished he was here.

That he would be be next to you, fighting by your side, making sure you were alright with a wiggenweld potion because he knew you wouldn’t have any more because he cares about you.

But he wasn’t here.

No one was.

You were here alone.

Except for the Ashwinders aparating behind you.

“Reducto!”

You barely have time to duck and roll out of the way, shooting confringo at your enemy, only to see two of them side by side. You don’t have enough strength in you for a big duel, you barely have enough in you as you shoot basic spells their way and blocking the ones coming at you, including dodging the lightning strikes the executioner is casting. You don’t know how much longer you could last. You could barely hold up your arm without trembling in pain.

You finally have the upper hand as the lightning curse is cast and you pull both Ashwinders in front of you into it, but not before one duelist manages out a quick reducto sent your way.

The spell hits you the same time both Ashwinders are taken care of and you are sent backwards screaming in pain. Your entire side is throbbing and you can’t think. You can’t move. You can only sit there, watching the stain on your clothes grow bigger and bigger.

You need help.

You read something once in a book for class about shooting red sparks onto the air as a call for help. You mentioned it to Sebastian afterwards, he promised if you did it he would always find you.

You hope it was true.

The last curse knocked your wand out of your hand, sending it just out of your reach. Knowing what has to be done, you roll closer to your wand, scraping your fingers in the dirt in a pitiful attempt to reach before you slowly start gasping for breaths to hide your sobs.

Pain rips up your body, pulling a cry from your lips as you try to keep from curling in pain. Your trembling fingers brush against your wand, pulling another gasp of breath as you inch impossibly closer until you can hold your wand in your non-dominant hand. Your dominant hand is useless, you could barely move it, let alone grip your wand. You finally allow yourself to scream, a sound quickly turning into a sob as you bury your face into your arm and still for a few moments.

The pain is getting to you, you can feel it happening as your body grows far more tired than it has all day. Your vision is starting to blur as you roll onto your back, struggling to point it to the sky.

You quickly shoot 3 bright red sparks into the air and they fly high before disappearing far higher than you’ve ever flown. You know it was dangerous, you know anyone could have seen them, could know exactly where you were. Rookwood, Ranrok, any of their lot, but also Sebastian. Despite how you’ve been feeling towards the boy as of late, you could only hope Sebastian could see your signal and get to you first as your eyes drift close and your arm falls to the ground.

---

Ominis was sure he searched the whole castle for you and yet his wand had proved to him quite a few times that you weren’t anywhere here. He did, however, find Sebastian sitting on a bench in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Sebastian.” He calls out his friend’s name before heading to take the open seat next to him. “Have you seen Y/N? I can’t locate her in the castle, I assumed she’d be with you somewhere.”

Sebastian can’t even look at Ominis as he twirls his wand around in his hand. “Haven’t seen her.”

Ominis is quiet, his brows pulling together at his friends depressing demeanor. “What happened? What did you do?”

Sebastian is taken back, finally looking at the blond boy. “Me? Why do you assume I was the cause of anything?” The silent but knowing look Ominis wore on his face causes Sebastian to sigh heavily. “I… I was with her this morning and I said…” he trails off thinking back on the conversation he called you ignorant and you curtly replied, implying his uncle was correct about Sebastian not knowing when to stop. “I said something I regret, that I don’t know how to take back.”

Ominis frowns, wondering what Sebastian could have said to you to cause a rift between the two of you. “You could start by apologizing.”

“Alright.” Sebastian nods, preparing himself for the idea. “I’ll apologize to her. The next time I see her.” Ominis was quiet once again but the small smirk on his lips has Sebastian’s shoulders sagging. “We’re going to find her now, aren’t we?”

Ominis can only put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “She would find you if the roles were reversed.”

---

Ominis follows after Sebastian who is leading the way through Hogsmeade. Ominis can tell how upset the conversation with you has made him, but he knows how Sebastian has acted these last weeks with his twin’s sickness.

“She’s not here.” Sebastian groans, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, impatient to find you and be allowed back to his sulking. “She’s probably back at the castle somewhere and we missed her.”

Ominis frowns and shakes his head. “She could also be in danger. You know what our friend likes to do in her free time.”

Sebastian’s foot tapping stops. Ominis has a point, but they also know you well enough to know you wouldn’t fight without a supply of wiggenweld potions in your bag.

Unless you left after an argument without thinking of the possibility of needing wiggenweld. “How are we supposed to find her? She could be anywhere! She could be in the forest, or down by the coast, or-or…” Sebastian’s sentences are stopped as he looks out in the sky, ignoring the sun disappearing on the horizon. “Did you see that?” He asks Ominis, not sure his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him in the setting sky.

“… no.”

“Oh. Right.” Sebastian shakes his head, looking towards his blind best friend and feeling a little dumb at his question. “In the sky, there were these red sparks coming up from the trees south of Hogwarts.”

“Sparks?” Ominis furrows his brows, trying to understand what Sebastian is saying.

Just point to the sky and I’ll find you.

Promise?

I promise.

“It’s Y/N, it has to be!” Sebastian is sure of it. He remembers joining you in the library one day, trying not to be obvious as he stares at you, but it didn’t matter as it seemed you had a sixth sense for knowing when he was looking at you. “Come on!”

---

Sebastian pushes trees away from his face, doing his absolute best not to send them flying into Ominis’ face who was following behind him, using his wand to help him as he holds the back of Sebastian’s robe. “Will you slow down?” Ominis says before running into his best friend’s back, barely stopping in time.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian is quick to say, making sure his friend is fine before focusing on their mission. “She’s around here, I’m sure of it.”

It was Ominis who found you first, sensing your location with his wand as he leads Sebastian in the correct direction. Sebastian freezes when he sees you laying on the ground, your wand trailing off your fingers into the dirt below you. “Y/N?” Ominis says as he kneals down next to you, putting his arm on your arm and gently moving up to your neck. “She’s barely breathing.” He sighs in relief at finding your pulse, however weak it was.

Sebastian is in shock as he looked at you but he couldn’t look past the blood stains on your robes. “She’s bleeding, on her chest and arm, it looks bad.”

Ominis carefully checks what Sebastian pointed out before pulling away, knowing his hands were now stained with your blood. He speaks quickly. “We need to get her to Hogwarts, to the hospital wing.”

Sebastian nods despite Ominis being unable to see it. He glances around the three of you and his eyes land on an empty vial of what used to be Wiggenweld potion. You did run out. His eyes widen before he searches his robes. “I have- wait, I have…” He trails off for a brief moment, absolutely certain he had some somewhere until he pulls out the green vial, “This!”

Ominis furrows his brows until Sebastian hands it to him. Sebastian had kept himself away from you until this moment. He knew deep down it was his fault that you were in this position and there was no way he could deny it, so he stayed back, not wanting to upset you further should you have woken up. However, he couldn’t help himself after he passed Ominis the vial. His hand ghosted over your head before he brushes your hair out of your face. It stuck to your skin just a bit from your sweat, blood, and tears and Sebastian’s heart ached.

He never wanted to see you like this again.

“You carry a wiggenweld potion on you?” Ominis’ words pull him back to reality as he blinks away any chance of tears falling on his own face. “Since when?”

“Since she started venturing out.” He clears his throat. “Never know when she might need one.”

Ominis doesn’t say anything else. He can only imagine how Sebastian is feeling in this moment and he is worried for you as well. He gently cups your jaw and opens your mouth and does his best to make sure he has lined the potion up with your mouth perfectly before pouring the whole vial.

“There. She should be getting better until he can get her-” Ominis is cut off by the sounds of metal clanking and talking through the tree lines, coming from almost all directions towards them. “Someone’s coming.” He tells Sebastian and jumps to his feet, holding his wand in the air.

“I can hear them. They probably saw Y/N’s sparks.” Sebastian shakes his head, not believing the fact that he forgot that others could have found you as well.

“It sounds like a whole army.”

Sebastian looks down at you, wishing he could have known if the Wiggenweld potion was even doing anything for you. You hadn’t moved at all and your breathing was still short. “We have to get her out of here!”

“How?” Ominis points his wand in another direction, finding more and more goblins, ashwinders, and enemies everywhere. “There’s nowhere to go?”

“There has to be something-” Sebastian’s sentence is stopped short as his eyes land on your bag. You’ve shown him this bag before. You’ve pulled magnificent beasts out of this bag before and right now, that seems to be your only chance at an escape. “Ominis,” Sebastian places a hand on the boys’ shoulder before reaching for the bag, “you might not like this.” Ominis can’t get a question in before Sebastian opens the bag. The next thing the blind blond hears is hooves stomping against the ground, wings beating in the air, and Sebastian’s excited gasp.

Ominis lets out a gasp of his own as he figures out exactly what Sebastian has pulled out of your bag.“Is that-“

“A friend.” Sebastian assures him, placing his hand back on Ominis’ shoulder before confirming Ominis’ thoughts. “A Hippogriff, she once introduced me to after class one day. It was… extraordinary.” There was a smile on Sebastian’s face as he looks at the beast, remembering how excited you were to introduce the two of you. He follows the steps and tells Ominis what to do, just like you showed him that day to gain the Hippogriff’s trust for a ride.

Sebastian helps Ominis up first before heading to you. He hesitates, but knows he must act quickly. Careful of your potentially still wounded arm and torso, he picks you up with an arm under your knees and another around your back. With Ominis’ help, he gets both you and him onto the Hippogriff. He readjusts you, letting you collapse on him as he holds you close to him with an arm around your waist, your head tucks into his neck. He can feel your faint breath on his skin and he can’t help but smile. You are still alive.

He is about to take off before realizing Ominis would surely fall off. “Put your arms around us.”

Ominis is taken back. “Absolutely not.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Do you want to fall off?” Ominis groans before muttering a ‘no’. “That’s what I thought. Now, put your arms around us and help me keep the two of you from falling off.”

Ominis does as he was told, knowing Sebastian was right, and regardless if he was, he would do anything to ensure you would stay as you were currently, almost on Sebastian’s lap. His grip is loose until suddenly with no warning, the hippogriff takes off.

Ominis is hanging on for dear life now.

The three of you and the Hippogriff barely clear the trees before a spell is cast in your direction. It whizzes right by Sebastian and Ominis’ heads, narrowly hitting them as the hippogriff speeds up, leaving the armies to disappear behind.

---

“We are never doing that again.” Ominis complains as he straightens his robes, happy to finally be on solid ground.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and as he opens your bag up to return the Hippogriff, but keeps his hold on you with Ominis’ help. “It wasn’t that bad. We made it back in one piece!”

Ominis wants to make a snappy comment back about how you three almost didn’t make it back in piece and how Sebastian almost lost his hold on you, but before he can get the words out, they remind him of your condition. The two of them rush to get you to the hospital wing, narrowly taking out a few first years along the way, but they managed. The nurse was just fixing a bed as the two boys push open the doors, holding you as steady as they can in their arms.

The nurse gasps at the sudden appearance but acts fast, letting them place you on the nearest bed that was available. Sebastian lays you on the bed, but he doesn’t let go of your hand as he grips it tightly, studying your face. The nurse cleans you up a bit and helps you beyond what a Wiggenweld potion could manage. Sebastian was beyond relieved to be able to gaze upon your face without focusing on the blood and tears.

“It’s good you gave her the potion when you did,” the nurse breaks Sebastian and Ominis’ thoughts, “much longer out there and well, I hate to imagine what could’ve happened.” She shakes her head.

Sebastian blinks back tears. “But she hasn’t woken.”

“And she might not for a while. Physically, she’s fine, her wounds are healing nicely, but she’ll have a nasty scar.” The nurse pauses, adding a few ingredients to a potion for you to take later.

Sebastian and Ominis wait for her to continue, but they grow restless. Sebastian finally tears his eyes away. “So? Why would it be a while?”

The nurse frowns. “Mentally, she’s exhausted. I don’t suppose either of you know how much sleep she’s gotten?”

The two boys hesitate before shaking their heads. “She would always fall asleep in the most random of places. In class, in Hogsmeade, towns, simply on the floor even. I’ve tripped over her numerous times.” Ominis says and Sebastian nods, suddenly feeling guilty for not ensuring you’ve gotten sleep.

“Yes, well,” the nurse hums, “perhaps rest is what she needs best. She can stay here for the night, but you two better hurry off before curfew starts.”

Ominis nods and reaches over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder with a small squeeze before he leaves, knowing Sebastian might want a few minutes alone with you. Sebastian can’t bear the thought of leaving you even if he could just visit in the morning. “Is it alright if I stay? Just for a few hours?”

The nurse eyes him carefully before sighing. “Just for a few hours.” She says and Sebastian nods. He hopes maybe a just a few hours turns into the whole night, and as the nurse places a pillow and blanket next to him, he might just get his wish.

When the nurse leaves the room, Sebastian realizes you two were the only ones here. He can’t help himself as he holds your hand tighter, bringing it to his lips with a soft kiss. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, knowing you’re only here because of him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sebastian?” Your voice is quiet, but he hears it nonetheless.

He straightens up, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his hand against your skin. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You shift in the bed, turning to face him but you barely open your eyes. “You’re here.” You repeat his words with the ghost of a smile and Sebastian feels his tears slipping down his face slowly. “Stay?”

He presses his lips against the back of your hand again before smiling. “With you? Of course. I’ll always stay with you.”

•

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should write more for hogwarts legacy or harry potter characters?

#sebastian sallow x reader #Sebastian sallow imagine #Sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow fanfiction #Sebastian sallow x fem!reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine

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