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some-bunniii · 2 months

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My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?”

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?”

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor

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hanafubukki · 3 months

Text

Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

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the-offside-rule · 6 months

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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Explain

Requested: yes

Prompt: 18) "My mum thinks we're dating."

Warnings: Max being dumb asf

Y/n and Victoria had been friends for as long as they could remember. They would visit eachothers houses, carpool to school, go shopping on the weekends; you name it, they did it and they did it together. Now both girls had a set of rules for eachother and Victoria's number one rule was not a surprise at all; her brother was off limits. Y/n didn't have a problem with it because well, Max was older and they rarely talked. Even as children she didn't like him that way, mainly because as a child she thought he looked like a strange lizard of some sort. When Max became a Formula One driver, Y/n found herself with Victoria less and less due to her still having to stay in school, whilst Victoria travelled the world with her brother for a good part of the academic year. But it didn't tarnish their friendship in any way.

In fact, once Y/n graduated from high-school, Victoria managed to get her to a few races that the whole Verstappen family attended. She grew closer with the family as a whole and even became one of the regulars in the paddock after a while. However, Y/n went on to study in Italy and her paddock appearances were significantly lowered to once or twice a year.

The weekend of Monza 2023 was a special one to say the least. Y/n smiled as she walked into the paddock with Victoria, like she did every other time. The cameras took photos, like they did every other year and they walked straight to the hospitality. "I missed this place." Y/n sighed as she looked around the hospitality, holding her godson Luka's hand as he waddled about the place. "I know. They've changed a few things since you've been here last." Victoria smiled as she wheeled the stroller through the paddock. "And where is the golden boy himself?" Y/n asked, obviously referring to Victoria's now two-time world champion brother. "He's with Mama. They're having their weekly lunch like they usually do." Y/n nodded. "I can't wait to chill in the hospitality. I'd argue it'd my favourite place."

Just as she said she would, Y/n sat in the hospitality of Red Bull. She got her usual place; a table by the window that overlooked the whole paddock, and close enough to Ferrari so she could get a glimpse of Charles Leclerc walking by. All heads snapped around as the heard large footsteps pounding up the stairs and there appeared a delirious looking Max Verstappen. They locked eyes and Max began walking over to her quite quickly. Did he really miss her that much?

"Hi, Max. How are you-" Max sits down rapidly, making Y/n freeze and look at the dutchman as if he had two heads. "I have a problem. Well, no. We- we have a problem." Max said, stumbling on his words. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." Y/n chuckled as she continued to scroll through her phone. "I- I think I really messed up." Max muttered. Y/n scoffed in reply. "Can't be worse than the time you-" She paused and looked at the familiar face of Max's I fucked up face. "What did you do?" She asked, not putting the phone down. "I- You're going to hate me." Max said. "What have you done?" She asked again. "My mum thinks we're dating." Max blurted out, leaving both of them in stunned silence. "She what?!" She put her phone down and stood up. "I know! It was really dumb!" Max repeated over and over again. "Max! Why did you tell her that!"

"It was an accident!" Max replied defensively. "What exactly did you say?!" Y/n asked. "Well she said we would make a cute couple and I kind of joked that well, what if we were but nobody knew. And then she started smiling like that and asking questions so I just went with it so now-" He paused. "Now she thinks we're together." Max mumbled the last bit. "Max, you need to tell her we aren't!" Y/n said. "But why? She seems so happy-"

"Max! Victoria might actually murder me! I have known her since we were seven!" Y/n whisper shouted. "It'll be fine! She won't know, I am sure of it-"

"Y/n?" Y/n froze as she heard her loving friend Victoria call out her name. Max and Y/n turned to see Victoria walking towards them, almost in the same fashion that Max walked over just a matter of minutes ago. "Victoria, I can explain!"

"Oh I'm so happy for you both! It makes so much sense now! Why you were looking for him this morning, I mean." Vuctoria squealed, engulfing Y/n in a hug. Max stood up chuckling along. "You- you're not mad?" Y/n asked, audibly confused. "Mad? Of course not! Me and Mama have said it many times; that the two of you should be dating. It's about time, to be honest." Y/n smiled and looked between the two Verstappens. "And you! Oh thank goodness you found a nice girlfriend after that last one, she was horrible." Max nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Even Dad is happy about you two!" Max and Y/n didn't know what to say. "And you all want us to...date?"

"Yes! For the longest time. It was so obvious you liked eachother too. So, so obvious." Max looked down at Y/n. The pair's faces turned as red as the Ferrari garage next door. "Well, I'll let you two lovebirds have some alone time. Ill see you both later?" Victoria asked, getting ready to leave. "Yes. Definitely."

"That didn't go how I thought it would." Y/n muttered. "Are we missing something? Do we like eachother but we're just too stupid to tell?" Max asked. "I- I don't know." She whispered. "But, I think we should tell them we aren't together before this gets out of hand." Y/n went to walk, but felt her hand being grabbed. She looked back to see Max. "Or we just play along until it dies down." Max suggested. "That is possibly the most stupid thing you've ever said." Y/n retorted. "Bot really. We both get benefits out of dating. You get recognition for being my girlfriend which comes with brand deals, magazine shoots-"

"I would never date you just for the benefits. I date someone because I love them."

"So so you love me?" Y/n didn't really know how to respond to that. Her mouth opened and closed, searching for the words but she couldn't couldn't a singular sentence. Max's grin widened. "Don't even! I'll see you around." Y/n said storming off, her face red from embarrassment. "Okay. Bye my love!" Max teased. "Shut up!" Did she like him? Did she love him? No! Of course...well....maybe.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen

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sweetiecutie · 2 years

Text

Dating Tom Marvolo Riddle

Warnings: NSFW, possessiveness, toxicity

A/n: sorry for the long absence babes! I’m in my depressive episode again, but I finally managed to finish those hc’s, they’ve been in my drafts for ages🙄. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it💖

Even though Tom never expresses his attraction toward you verbally, you can still see just how much you mean to him through his actions. His love is all about the small gestures like fixing the askew collar of your shirt, sharing his notes if you have difficulties in some classes, making sure that you eat enough etc.

You’re the only one who can actually touch him. Of course, teachers, especially Slughorn, often give Tom encouraging pats on the back or shoulder, but only you are allowed to touch his skin. To play with neat waves of his dark hair, brush your fingertips against Tom’s cheekbones in endearment, interlock your fingers while walking down school halls together. Only you

Tom is very possessive, not only with treasured magical objects, but also with you. He wants everyone to know that you are his, his and his only. Most of the time one of his hands rests securely around your shoulders or waist, keeping you as close as possible, glaring down at anyone who looks at you longer than a few seconds

Because of said possessiveness Tom is almost always by your side - you sit together in all your shared classes, and if it happened that he doesn’t take one of the subjects that you do, he has his devoted followers to be right beside you instead, making sure that no ‘unreliable’ people from your class are in near proximity to you. Outside of classes - you’re almost always seated on his lap. In the common room, courtyard, library - everywhere. He especially loves it when you sit on his lap during his privat meetings in the Room of Requirements - him sitting in the head of a long table with you cuddled up into his side, surrounded by his followers listening resolutely to every word he says. It gives him such a sense of power, having not only all of his minions, but also you - the only person he loves - at his complete mercy

Every one of Tom’s followers knows better than to talk to you, unless you are the one who starts conversation. And god forbid them being anything than polite and friendly to you.

Casual dominance? Yes, Tom is all about that. He likes it when you submit to his orders, no matter how small and trivial they are. “Darling, finish your tea, you need to warm up after a walk” or “Go to bed now, it’s too late” or “Put your book down, you’ve been reading for too long. Let your eyes rest”. And it angers Tom so much when you disobey, he wants what’s best for you, why can’t you see that? Most of the conflicts you guys have are actually caused by that, because you too don’t like being pushed around like a small child

Talking about conflicts - it is extremely hard for Tom to admit that he’s wrong, so if conflicts do occur between you two, Tom makes it look like you are the guilty one (even if you’re not). So yeah, he’s still a bit toxic, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it within himself

NSFW ahead!

Despite popular opinion walking around this mesmerizing platform, I don’t think that Tom sleeps around with every person he deems attractive. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be his first (and only) sexual partner, even despite all the girls and boys almost throwing themselves on him in hopes of getting at least one touch

WILL👏FINGER👏YOU👏LITERALLY EVERYWHERE👏 Okay but this man has absolutely no shame when it comes to his lover (meaning you). Plus points if you’re in public place like library or classroom, and god, is he cocky. “You gotta be quiet, yeah? Don’t want other people to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” all while his long slender fingers make their way up under your skirt, past the elastic of your pretty panties, and all you are left to do is to spread your legs a bit wider for Tom, and try to be as quiet as possible. And oh, don’t forget to take notes, you’re still in a middle of a class!

NOT into daddy kink. Being an orphan, even the word ‘dad’ itself feels strange, wrong even for Tom, so if you want to call him daddy - expect him to freak the fuck out. But if you’re into names he’d love it if you call him ‘sir’ or ‘master’, it gives him sense of power and authority over you

And while we’re on this topic - you’re called everything BUT your name in bed. Tom loves calling you names - whore, slut, fucktoy, darling, sweetness, princess - all that stuff. And oh, when he mixes praise with degradations, all while fucking you absolutely stupid *sighs dreamily*. “What’s that dollface? Is it too much for you? Can this slutty cunt take no more of my cock inside, hm? Stop pretending sweetheart, I know how much of a greedy whore you are, so shut the fuck up and take it”

Definitely will pin you against the wall as he towers over your smaller form, one hand resting next to your head while the other one cups your face gently, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while whispering the filthiest things ever, making your panties soaking wet in a matter of minutes just by using his words. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Walking around in that short skirt, swaying your hips like that. Think I didn’t notice, hm? I’d love to see those hips swaying while you ride my cock, what do you think about that?”

Even though Tom expects full obedience from you, he still likes it when you get a bit bratty. When you comply with every one of his orders, but there’s still something mischievous and coquettish about your behavior - naughty little comments slipping off your tongue here and there, and then you are batting that pretty doe eyes up at him, as if it wasn’t you saying all those things. “Moan louder” he orders in a strained voice, hips snapping into yours with loud smacking sound. “Fuck harder then” you quip back, sly smirk curling your lips at the sight of Tom’s perfect eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Your small giggle dies in your throat as man pulls out of you, just to slam his cock all the way back into your pussy, making your body jolt forward with the ferocity of the impact. Want it harder - you get it harder

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖

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astonmartinii · 7 months

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honey, honey [mamma mia part three] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & jenson button

mamma mia | no more ace to play | masterlist | tips

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, charles_leclerc and 1,098,455 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel & jensonbutton

yourusername: little chick is finally showing and these old men are still obsessed with cars even though i'm RIGHT THERE !!

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user1: oh to be the one receiving those photos of fernando

user2: yeah yeah they're having a kid BUT the sheer amount of seb + fernando + jenson content we're gonna get

fernandoalo_oficial: so you go to goodwood with them but don't come to my race :(

yourusername: babe they outnumbered you but we'll be there in canada !!

jensonbutton: sorry some of us didn't choose to be a fossil in an f1 car. just hurry up and retire

yourusername: woah woah, let nando have his lil hobby

fernandoalo_oficial: y/n tell him he can't call me old

yourusername: jenson, fernando isn't a fossil, you know we prefer the term precious artefact, please apologise

jensonbutton: i'm sorry???

user3: omg this is going so fast

danielricciardo: ahhhh y/n is showing !! this is so exciting

sebastianvettel: chickie is the size of a lemon i think

danielricciardo: and you'll all be in canada?

yourusername: yes! i can't wait to meet all of you

danielricciardo: *can't wait to meet chickie's god father

fernandoalo_oficial: daniel you know we haven't decided that yet

jensonbutton: also i've partied with you, why do you think i'd trust you with my kid?

danielricciardo: ummm every child is entitled to a fun uncle ??

user4: i am once again stating how fucking obsessed i am with this set up

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, jensonbutton and 1,298,450 others

yourusername: my personal favourite snippets of the god father applications. not sure it really made me trust any of them any more than before.

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user5: i was not expecting to actually see the applications but they defo didn't disappoint

maxverstappen1: ummmmm @charles_leclerc what do you mean? you are the instigator YOU pushed me into that puddle

charles_leclerc: it's okay max get it out (@sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton see how i am able to de- escalate this situation)

maxverstappen1: try and de-escalate this foot up your literal ass

charles_leclerc: i will put you in time out (i.e. watch your ass going into turn one)

yourusername: you guys realise this is not helping the application right?

maxverstappen1: nuh uh who wouldn't want a world champion as a god father

charles_leclerc: low blow verstappen

yourusername: girlies chickie has dads with seven championships between them so i really don't think she'll be impressed by two

user6: i'm sorry but roscoe hamilton as the reference is killing me

user7: full government name and everything

sebastianvettel: you guys laughed at me but this has amused me to no end

yourusername: you're a genius and i love you for this

user8: L BOMB?

jensonbutton: i take back calling the idea dumb, you were right :(

sebastianvettel: oh how the tables have turned

fernandoalo_oficial: can we all just agree that we never thought those dumbasses would actually fill one in?

yourusername: it makes me even more excited to meet them

jensonbutton: trust me the charm wears off real quick

user9: the way kimi wrote nothing and will probably end up being the god father anyway

jensonbutton

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, alexalbon and 832,087 others

tagged: yourusername

jensonbutton: best thing about pregnancy cravings is i have an excuse to use seb's insane car collection and brush up on my french

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user13: on dad duty with the dad angle he's ready

user14: honestly my heart is so warm over the fact that they've all embraced the situation

user15: girl we saw jenson and nando at mclaren together ... it's been coming

user16: oh and that one podium with jenson and seb they just need a girl they all liked to get their shit together and that's the most them thing ever

sebastianvettel: a man goes to one meeting and suddenly julie is being taken on grocery runs

jensonbutton: y/n wanted bagels so ?

sebastianvettel: i know we're having an actual kid but be careful with my mechanical kids as well

jensonbutton: do you forget i'm literally a driver too honey

yourusername: thanks for the bagel baby bagel dates 4 ever

fernandoalo_oficial: cream cheese and salmon WITHOUT ME?

yourusername: we put it in the fridge for when you get home :(

fernandoalo_oficial: awwwww really ???

yourusername: we love you (but also you can't eat soft cheese or raw fish while pregnant)

fernandoalo_oficial: it's the thought that counts?

user17: god this looks like domestic bliss, how does one come about three men to have a kid with in the swiss mountains?

yourusername: honestly i'm so lucky

sebastianvettel: we're luckier

jensonbutton: we're luckier

fernandoalo_oficial: we're luckier

yourusername: fucking hormones are making me ball my eyes out

liked by estebanocon, yourusername and 1,239,086 others

f1: category is ... baby presents !! y/n y/ln made her paddock debut with sebastian vettel and jenson button to support fernando alonso 💚

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user21: omg seb in his aston martin gear to support nando

user22: imagine showing this to someone in 2010 i think they would have a heart attack

danielricciardo: i had the best present ever god father is in the bag

charles_leclerc: i read your application there's no way, plus seb loves ferrari so my gift will be the best

mickschumacher: lets be real my application was the best

estebanocon: eh i think kimi's was the best

mickschumacher: he literally wrote nothing ????

estebanocon: and yet he outdid all of yall... embarrassing for some

user23: i feel like this fight to be god father is gonna end with a fist fight in the parking lot

yourusername: and i'll be there with my popcorn

sebastianvettel: maybe let's not encourage fighting

yourusername: why not, these squabbles over being in charge if all FOUR of chickie's parents die are the most entertaining thing in the world to me

jensonbutton: lets halt it on the fighting and dying talk okay (i will also be front row to watch these morons fight)

maxverstappen1: if it's a fist fight clear win for me imo

fernandoalo_oficial: how did we get here (i will referee)

danielricciardo: respectfully maxy, i will beat your ass

maxverstappen1: NUH UH

kimiraikkonen: i'm winning no question

sebastianvettel: now that i agree with

yourusername: i thought you were against fighting?

sebastianvettel: i guess it would be kind of funny (especially because any physical violence is an immediate red flag)

user24: okay but can someone actually let us know who got what cause i know these men probably got the dumbest shit that can never actually be used by a child

user25: there's a thread on twitter!

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 934,045 others

fernandoalo_oficial: old man still got it 👍 thank you to the team for your help, needed to impress y/n with my day job x

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user27: impending fatherhood got nando looking like he can make it an eight championship house

sebastianvettel: @yourusername he's good but i was better

jensonbutton: @yourusername and i was even better x

fernandoalo_oficial: ummm this is literally my post about MY podium?

sebastianvettel: i would've won but that's just me 😬

fernandoalo_oficial: 2013 called and it wants your attitude back 🤨

jensonbutton: it's been ten years guys... (i would've also won)

sebastianvettel: well my trophy cabinet is the fullest so chickie will know who was the best by that :)

yourusername: the sexual tension is killing me, how did yall not shag back in 2010?

jensonbutton: too busy winning and being sluts elsewhere x

maxverstappen1: yall claim you would've won? yall wouldn't get close to me sorry not sorry

sebastianvettel: oh look who's out of the running for god father

maxverstappen1: NO I TAKE IT BACK

yourusername: don't worry maxy, he's joking the bee keeping suit went down VERY WELL

charles_leclerc: he's such a cheat i didn't even know they existed :(

maxverstappen1: you snooze you loose

yourusername: @charles_leclerc i'm craving pasta, i heard it's good in the ferrari hospitality

charles_leclerc: on it 🫡

fernandoalo_oficial: so is no one going to congratulate me?

yourusername: CONGRATS BUB! turns out you ARE great at your day job (and very sexy drenched in champagne)

sebastianvettel: i agree

jensonbutton: i agree

yourusername: once again how did yall make it through the 2010s

user28: i'm trying not to be weird about this but i know their sex life must be crazy

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, danielricciardo and 1,403,677 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: baby's first f1 weekend and daddy nando did not disappoint (neither did the grid, yall are so generous thank you)

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user29: i am so unwell this is all so cute i might die

fernandoalo_oficial: i would get any shit box on the podium for you guys

yourusername: NO BRAKES! NO TYRES! OUT OF THE POINTS!

jensonbutton: babe that was over five years ago...

yourusername: ummmm i'm doing my research on your careers? i'd never watched f1 i needed to catch up

sebastianvettel: who showed you this?

yourusername: oscar and lando said they'd give me a quick fire history lesson

fernandoalo_oficial: @oscarpiastri @landonorris i've won 32 races and you show y/n that?

landonorris: funny?

oscarpiastri: we also showed her multi 21, sorry not sorry seb

sebastianvettel: not my four championships?

oscarpiastri: justice for my manager

user30: obsessed with how y/n can watch old races and most of the time one of her bfs win 😭

alexalbon: so great to finally meet you! the albon pets hope it's a girl!

yourusername: don't tell them i told you this but me too

jensonbutton: we can literally all see this?

yourusername: you guys would be such girl dads lets be real

user31: potential girl dad seb, jenson and fernando DO NOT THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME

user32: do NOT let seb name them he's already used all of the good bond girl names

sebastianvettel: i'll have you know kinky kylie is a top tier name

yourusername: for a car. do not suggest any names affiliated with any spy films

sebastianvettel

liked by astonmartinf1, mickschumacher and 1,459,832 others

tagged: yourusername, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

sebastianvettel: thought i'd have a quiet life after retirement, i thought wrong

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user33: the BEAR ???

user34: what if i die so i can be reincarnated as the f1 baby

jensonbutton: always arguing over who is the best driver but yet i am always designated driver ... makes you think

sebastianvettel: you're the one who pulls the "i'm the oldest" card ... makes you think

fernandoalo_oficial: only one of us is still racing ... makes you think

yourusername: someone is waiting to go to bed but some people are arguing in the comment section ... makes you think

user35: this kid is going to have the most entertaining childhood ever...

yourusername: @fernandoalo_oficial retire so you can join the crochet club

fernandoalo_oficial: no can do i need to bring home the bacon (and beat lewis)

lewishamilton: why am i catching strays? can i join the crochet club instead of fernando?

yourusername: it's strictly bring your own yarn and real housewives only

lewishamilton: make it beverly hills and i'm there

fernandoalo_oficial: ummmmm ??? @mercedesamgf1 ur driver is retiring you heard it hear first

yourusername: you guys gonna beef over crochet as well?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes.

lewishamilton: yes.

jensonbutton: okay nando you're the only one we're waiting for, we're debating god fathers

fernandoalo_oficial: one sec my pr team called me, turns out you can't make up a rumour that lewis hamilton is retiring, who knew?

maxverstappen1: VOTE FOR ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: you've won enough this season, let me have this one

mickschumacher: i'll bring breakfast in the morning for three votes at least

yourusername: do NOT try and bribe the jury.

note: PART THREE! okay so it's finally here and i hope it's what you guys were looking for... the race for god father is heating up and the name arguments are only just starting... i am enjoying the pregnancy content but i'm excited for baby time !!!

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch @imagandom @mypage-myfandoms @mehrmonga @asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt @multilovebot @lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn @nothingfuninthislife @rileynicol3 @kodzuvk @mochimommy2002 @fluffyspaceprincess @roseseraj @black-swan-blog27 @nyrasslut @justdreamersdream @asfaraslifegets @why4anne @ineffableperson @leilanixx @lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog @rafaaoli @champomiel @sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #jenson button instagram au #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine #mamma mia au #astonmartinii

2K notes · View notes

twogyuu · 3 months

Text

the unoriginal villain origin story

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader (ft. friend!Wonwoo)

Synopsis: In which Jeonghan and his friends recount the series of unfortunate events that led to you.

Alternatively, in which maybe leaving it up to fate Wonwoo is all Jeonghan really needed to do all along.

Genre: Fluff, crack, angst if you squint, cliche af, prequel to Thursday's Child Has Far to Go anthology, dilf!jeonghan, uncle!wonwoo (he's engaged LOL), part university!au, mild E2L (they're not really enemies, but OC definitely trying to stay AWAY from Jeonghan at first), one-sided turned mutual pining

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food/alcohol, mildly suggestive (they just kiss and jeonghan likes skinship), reader is shorter than jeonghan, jeonghan changes hair color a couple times, wonwoo just swallows food without chewing like a maniac, proofread but not well, there are inconsistencies between this and easter egg's dropped about their relationship in other fics (i will fix that some day!)

wc: ~14.6k

A/N: I had so much trouble posting this T^T First long fic in a while🫶🏻 It's not my best story nor is it that deep, but made me feel all sorts of giddy 💞 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing!

“So,” Leah starts with her mouth half-full, capturing the table’s attention. She’s quick to cover her lips and swallow her food before continuing. “I’m curious,” she points between Jeonghan and you, “How’d you two end up together? As long as I’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve been married.”

Immediately, Wonwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his dinner on his friend sitting across the table. Jeonghan scorns in disgust, frowning, offended as to why Wonwoo finds his fiance’s question amusing. In contrast, you seem to lose your appetite, silver fork clattering against your half-filled ceramic plate. You grow quiet, straightening your spine and avoiding eye contact like you were back in middle school, caught red-handed with a confession letter to your crush.

“I honestly thought she was going to end up with Baekho – she loathed Jeonghan with a passion,” Wonwoo chuckles to himself as he redirects his chopsticks at your husband. “But Jeonghan knocked her up – that’s what happened.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan is quick to defend. He sighs, shooting Wonwoo a bored, but annoyed look, “That’s not what happened – do you have to put it that way?”

The other man only shrugs his shoulders, raising his palms to the sky playing innocent and oblivious.

Leah’s eyes flicker back and forth between you and your husband, then sweet Nina. Leah’s innocent smile slowly fading as you neither confirmed or answered. She isn’t aware that this was a sensitive topic for you and Jeonghan, and the last thing she wants to do is offend her fiance’s friends! The two of you just seem to get along so well and so in love, for lack of a better description, it’s hard for Leah to imagine much malice as to how you met and got together. Yet, this raises the additional worrisome, unfounded suspicion: Did you and Jeonghan just get married out of convenience?

No – that couldn’t be! Wonwoo is a sensible man; he wouldn’t be laughing if it was a pitiful marriage of convenience.

“She didn’t hate me,” Jeonghan starts to explain.

“She blocked your number after the blind date,” Wonwoo interjects.

You met during a blind date?

“It wasn’t even our blind date,” Jeonghan quickly shoots back. He clenches his jaw, clearly getting fed up with Wonwoo’s teasing.

This is certainly interesting for Leah . . . Jeonghan frequently annoyed Wonwoo, not that the latter gave the older gentleman the reaction he wanted, but it is rare to see Wonwoo get under Jeonghan’s skin.

“It wasn’t, which makes it all the funnier,” Wonwoo comments, “In fact, she was technically,” Wonwoo holds his fingers up in air quotes, “‘my blind date.’”

“I was merely doing you a favor by tagging along – and it was free food!” you finally exclaim, frowning at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo waves you off, smirking, “Jeonghan was down bad.”

Confused, Leah holds up a hand to silence the bickering. She shakes her head, “Wait, wait, wait – please start from the beginning. I didn’t grow up with you guys, so I’m so lost.”

Like those corny rom-coms, you and Jeonghan turn to look at each other at the same time, exchanging a knowing, tired look. There’s a bashful tinge to your expression; interestingly, the corner of Jeonghan’s lips quirks up in a crooked, smug smile.

Sure, you may have resisted (NOT hate) him at first, and Wonwoo can make fun of him all he wants, but it’s Yoon Jeonghan who won in the end.

After all, you're sitting next to him at the dinner of your shared home as his wife and Nina's mom after all.

. . . .

The day was near perfect for Wonwoo.

His morning coding lecture was canceled, so he got to sleep in. Though there was a pop quiz in his Operating Systems class, he passed with flying colors for once. Wonwoo only had two classes today, finishing in the early afternoon, leaving the rest of the day to his leisure. He decided to celebrate by treating himself to some fancy coffee from the new bougie cafe that opened on the edge of campus before meeting up with a friend for a quick study session. Now, Wonwoo wasn't some latte snob, but there was something pleasant and relaxing about taking a quiet stroll around campus with his Airpods plugged in and an overpriced hot brew with several scoops of sugar and multiple pumps of mocha syrup in his hand. The weather on this autumn day was also just right – not too cold that he needed a windbreaker, but not too warm that his green and orange plaid flannel and yellow beanie combo didn’t make him sweat buckets.

All was wonderful: It was just him and his overpriced bougie sweet sludge of caffeine. Indeed this campus was huge and he was surrounded by so many students rushing to class or laughing with their friends on the grass instead of studying; however, he felt anonymous and loved it. No one minded him, no one dared to bother him–

“Hey!” a familiar crack of a shrill interrupts IU’s sweet voice streaming through his ear piece. It’s accompanied by a bony and heavy hand clamping onto his shoulder, nearly yanking Wonwoo back and tumbling onto his ass if he didn’t catch his footing.

Annoyed, Wonwoo pulled out his earbud and turned to face his menace of a friend: Yoon Jeonghan. He was panting, chocolate brown hair stuck to his forehead by sweat and sticking out in funny directions in the gentle breeze, as if he had been chasing Wonwoo for several minutes.

“Why are you out of breath?” Wonwoo deadpanned.

“I’ve been,” Jeonghan sucked in breath, “Running,” he heaved again, “After you! Calling your name! How loud is your music? God – you’ve been spending too much time with Hansol.” Jeonghan adjusted the straps of his backpack, making a point to roll his shoulder back dramatically.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo muttered, fingers tapping his screen to pause his music. “Um, what do you need? Can I help you?” He cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jeonghan as he took a sip of his coffee, presuming it cooled down by now.

“Go on a date with me,” Jeonghan said.

Wonwoo choked, the mocha liquid spilling from between his lips, accidentally spraying the hem of Jeonghan’s gray t-shirt.

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan screamed, jumping back.

The said man was quick to dab his lips with the back of his hand, coughing in the process.

“What the fuck, dude!” Jeonghan groaned, brushing at his shirt. “Good thing I didn’t wear white today.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Wonwoo exclaimed. A few passing students throw confused glances in their directions. Wonwoo lowered his voice and quickly added, “Look – I know we’re good friends and I like you – as a friend, and I respect you, but I don’t swing that way.”

Probably thirty seconds passed by as Wonwoo waited impatiently for his friend to explain his request further. Jeonghan’s expression only grows unreadable, his brows softening as he let’s go of his shirt, lips drooping into a frown. Taking Wonwoo by surprise, Jeonghan roughly grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist and pulled him close. He tried to pull back, but for a twink, Jeonghan’s grip was strong.

“I’ve loved you for so long! I can’t believe you won’t–”

Thwack!

“Hey!” Wonwoo’s hands come flying to the back of his head at the pain shooting up neck.

“No, you dumbass!” Jeonghan finally sounding like himself again, “I’m asking you to come on a blind date with me – to keep me safe and keep me company, of course. Save me when I give you the look.”

“The look?” Wonwoo asked, still rubbing the base of his head.

“You know,” Jeonghan widened his eyes and clenched his jaw, extending his neck like a giraffe. “That look.”

“Right,” Wonwoo replied slowly – as if he knew what that meant. He waved his friend off. “Sorry – I can’t though. I also don’t want to third wheel.”

“Why not!” Jeonghan groaned.

“I’m busy.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Bring your friend!” Jeonghan grabbed Wonwoo’s arm desperately, “Or anyone really. Please! I just don’t want to go on this date alone.”

“You hit me – why would I?” Wonwoo teased back. “Also, why’d you agree to the blind date if you don’t want to go?”

“I owe it to Seungcheol,” Jeonghan groaned. “I’m going in his stead – something having a girl.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo nodded, the pieces coming together. The two friends were close and had a history of exchanging blind dates and sending one versus the other – a weird pact they developed in their freshman year of university. He suddenly scrunched his brows together, a new question forming on the tip of his tongue. “Wait – Seungcheol has a girl?”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem to care, however. “So?”

“So?” Wonwoo repeated back, confused

“I’ll pay for food,” Jeonghan offered.

As if on cue, Wonwoo’s stomach growled. The two of them peer down at his abdomen, then back at each other. He was a growing, but broke college student – his fridge didn’t contain much yesterday, and even less today.

Rubbing his belly, he replied quietly, “I guess I can think of someone.”

“Great!” Jeonghan brightened immediately. “7PM, tomorrow – don’t be late!”

. . . .

[Wonwoo]: Want free food?

. . . .

[Y/N]: This is NOT what I envisioned when you said ‘free food’ >:(

Pushing his black-rimmed spectacles up his nose bridge, Wonwoo looked up at his phone, offering you a sheepish, but apologetic smile, from across the table. He gave you a small shrug, scrunching his lips and bowing his head slightly to silently say ‘sorry.’ The sincerity of his apology doesn’t seem to go through though, as you only sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Violently, you stabbed your wooden chopstick into the pork belly sizzling in front of you. Not minding to blow at it, quickly, you stuck in your mouth, instantly regretting your decision, of course as the heat burnt a piece of your tongue. You jolted a little, eyes beginning to water.

And then, he does it – again.

Sleeves of his brown sweater rolled up to his elbow, he reached over the steaming grill and placed a freshly refilled, full glass of ice water in front of you.

Hand hovering over your lip, your eyes flicker to Jeonghan. Lips pressed into a thin, but genuinely warm, crooked smile, his deep brown eyes, once round curves into half moons under the overgrown bangs of his soft cool brown hair (which was growing blotchy and brassy, if you might add). Though you were curious why he looked at you with such disgusting saccharine dripping from his eyes that may or may not have made you feel some type of way, you don’t let your gaze linger for long to figure out why. You were quick to turn your shoulder towards him, covering your steaming mouth and concentrating on a crack in the old oak windowsill.

It had been like this since five minutes into the (now that you know) double blind date. You’re not sure how the seating arrangement ended up this way when you and Wonwoo were just here in support, but Jeonghan sat next to you, Dami across from you, and Wonwoo diagonally position. His date, Dami, sat across from him, but Jeonghan seemed to pay minimal mind to her, answering her questions politely, but vaguely.

Perhaps you were just thinking too much about it, but Jeonghan was paying more attention to you. He laughed a little too loud at your blunt remarks, you caught him staring in your direction one too many times, and was a little too attentive at what was in your bowl. You made a point to ask Wonwoo about it after.

The gestures seemed sweet until you took a step back and got a larger view of the situation: Two facts were certain.

One – You weren’t close with Jeonghan despite sharing Wonwoo and a few others as a mutual friend. Yet his reputation was notorious as it was confusing. Neither quite the fuck boy nor the campus hearthrob (that title belonged to his friend, Seungcheol), Yoon Jeonghan was a silent menace to collegiate society. He was gorgeous – a deep set of dark brown eyes framed by long velvet lashes, his features were gentle, yet somehow dynamic and sharp. His warm smile ignited hearts across campus, but no one dared confess to him: His intentions (or the lack thereof) were known far and wide: Yoon Jeonghan did not date. He was cordial, perhaps sometimes a mischievous flirt if bored, but his true kindness did not go out easily. It was not known why he didn’t date, a man that beautiful could snatch someone up with a bat of his lashes and flick of his finger. Some of your friends had said he had a long distance girlfriend on the other side of the country, others have proposed he was afraid of commitment and a closet fuck boy – kept his flings under wraps. He was close with the soccer team after all.

With all of this “knowledge” about him in mind, that led you to the second point: Jeonghan was Dami’s blind date. There’s a piece of you that is curious as to why Jeonghan agreed to a blind date with Dami – not in a toxic or jealous way of course. Her jet black hair trimmed into a short, messy but stylish shag bob, her features resembling that of a wide-eyed kitten, Dami was indeed cute. You didn’t know much about her, however; no money to her name, she wasn’t particularly popular or desired in that way on campus, did not participate in sports or clubs, and you’re not even sure how she was linked to Jeonghan in the first place.

Perhaps this was Dami’s big love story: the campus enigma takes interest in an ordinary girl and whisks her away to live an adventurous life after graduation.

The catch though?

Dami didn’t seem interested in Jeonghan at all.

In fact, hearts were literally shooting out of her eyes at Wonwoo.

“So, uh,” Dami cleared her throat, her eyes flickered up to Wonwoo then you before returning back to the boy on her side. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, “Are the two of you . . .?”

Wonwoo choked on his lettuce, followed by your awkward cough. Much to both of your surprises, Jeonghan also nearly spat out his water at Wonwoo. A moment of silence at the table lingered, the three of you glancing at each other, while Dami sat back in her seat trying to make sense of the situation; though frankly, you and Wonwoo were equally confused as to why Jeonghan reacted so volatilely too.

“We’re just friends,” Wonwoo finally piped up. He cleared his throat, dabbing the invisible stain in the corner of his lip with the napkin.

You nodded vigorously in confirmation.

“Oh? Okay,” Dami said softly, a little breathless. There’s a small twitch of the corner of her lip, threatening to stretch into a grin, but she caught herself, offering the table a tight smile instead.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jeonghan visibly relax, quietly returning to the meat grilling in front of him.

The rest of the dinner proceeded without any choking mishaps – it was fairly nice, honestly. You decided that you actually really liked Dami. Despite her cat-like appearance and coy nature, she was lively and innocent. Her crush on Wonwoo was evident and you found it endearing, though your friend might not.

In regards to Jeonghan, his nonchalant, yet caring nature carried on throughout the night; it even got Wonwoo raising his brows curiously. You do your best to not pay mind to him, but every now and then, you find yourself heating up at the sound of his deep laughter.

After bidding the pair goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with Dami, you and Wonwoo set off for your shared apartment complex. You lived in the same building, him on the second floor, you on the fourth floor.

Unable to contain your curiosity much longer, you check behind you to make sure Jeonghan is a good distance away before nudging Wonwoo’s elbow. He looked at you, unamused, silently asking you what you wanted.

You began, “Hey, this is a weird question and I know you were just there for moral support and free food, but did you get the feeling that Jeonghan–”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo confirmed, already knowing the answer to your unfinished question. You stutter in your steps, putting you a few feet behind him. Wonwoo continued forward, showing no signs of slowing down for your confused state. He hollered back, “He’s definitely into you.”

It made you feel some type of way, but you can’t decide if it’s a good type of way or you didn’t like it all together. Your heart beats funny for the first time in years – it was reminiscent of when you developed a crush in middle school, but different due to the uncertainty of this feeling. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s comment made you come to a halt altogether, quietly contemplating in the middle of the sidewalk while strangers walked around you.

As if on cue, just as Wonwoo noticed your absence lingering behind him, he turned to find Jeonghan actually running willingly, fast approaching behind you. He touched your elbow, interrupting your daze and you turned around slowly to greet him. Wonwoo can’t make out your expression, but he could only imagine, you looked lost like a guppy in the sewers. On the other hand, Jeonghan’s expression was very visible and clear: his friend was beaming; subtly in his smiles and soft in his eyes, but beaming nonetheless.

One would think Jeonghan had something important to tell you given the way he sprinted nearly a block to catch up to you, heaving between words, but his message was rather simple.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Yet, for some reason, it made all the impact.

. . . .

“Please!” Jeonghan hissed, stabbing Wonwoo’s side with the tip of his pencil. Wonwoo winced away, shooting daggers in his friend’s direction. He was trying to use this spare few hours between classes to study for his finals in the serenity and quiet of the library. His friends knew around this time of the semester, Wonwoo didn’t like to be disturbed, but it just so happened that Jeonghan had an urgent request, prompting him to track down the computer engineering major to his sacred, hidden spot of the law school library. “Can you give me her number? It’s not that hard!”

Though irritating, Wonwoo did find this version of Yoon Jeonghan was very entertaining as much as it was enthralling as Jeonghan never took this much interest in anyone or anything. He wanted to let his intrusive thoughts win and indulge in it.

The two of you were like night and day. Whereas, you spoke your feelings, wants, and needs openly, Jeonghan never dared to do so. His requests were cryptic, embedded questions pertaining to the objective, rather than what his heart desired truly. You had your mind set on a goal; Jeonghan was one to flow and ebb with the waters of life.

However, though neither of you knew it yet, there was a beguiling bone in the both of you. It depended on how it played out whether it’d unite the both of you or send you apart. At this point, it was unironically up to Wonwoo if he wanted to be the third player in this game. t

Wonwoo scoffed, shaking his head.

“What?” Jeonghan frowned.

“Do you want it that bad?” Wonwoo asked. He pressed his friend further. “And why?”

Jeonghan closed his mouth as quick as he opened it, retracting the rationale at the tip of his tongue. A good gambler never shows his cards first. His eyes flickered, contemplating his next few words more carefully before adjusting his posture and continuing.

“Just because,” Jeonghan replied nonchalantly.

Wonwoo chuckled, not surprised.

“If you’re just going to fuck around with her heart, I’d rather not,” Wonwoo replied, shrugging.

And it was true – you were the same age, but to some extent, you felt like a long-lost younger sister to Wonwoo.

“Hey,” Jeonghan punched him lightly. There was a slight warning tone as he was frowning even more, well aware of what Wonwoo was referring to. Jeonghan has never bothered to clarify the rumors of his dating life, thinking it too much work, but that didn’t mean he liked them either. “You know that’s not true and I would never.”

“Then admit it,” Wonwoo shot back.

“Admit what?!” Jeonghan flailed his hands wildly, earning a few dirty looks from the studious students a few tables away.

“You want Y/N’s number because you’re interested.”

“Th-that’s not it,” Jeonghan muttered weakly. “I mean, yes? But also no? I just . . . want to know her better – you know, as a friend . . . first.”

Crossing his arm over his chest, Wonwoo nodded, feigning agreement. “Right, right.”

“Wonwoo,” Jeonghan protested.

When he didn’t respond, Jeonghan groaned loudly, flopping back in his spinning chair dramatically.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find someone else to give it to me,” Jeonghan threatened.

“And risk other people questioning why you want to contact Y/N?” Wonwoo teased. He shot Jeonghan a shit-eating grin, “You know what they’re all going to think, right?”

“Jeon Wonwoo, when did you get so fucking irritating?”

Wonwoo leaned forward, waving his finger for Jeonghan to get closer. The latter hesitated for a second before giving in.

“If there’s one thing you should know about Y/N,” Wonwoo started in a hushed voice, “You’re not the first one to ask for her number.”

“So?” Jeonghan asked incredulously, “Why should that matter?”

“Just saying,” Wonwoo leaned back, resting his hands on the nape of his neck, “Don’t be surprised if she turns you down – she doesn’t like to mess around. She’s not really . . . actively looking to date right now either, honestly. Something about careers and being her ‘me’ era.” At the time, Jeonghan wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure content with the way Wonwoo ripped a corner of his notebook and scribbled down your digits. “You should be grateful we’re friends – she asked me not to hand out her number the first time I gave it to Johnny Suh.”

He handed the scrap over to Jeonghan, who beamed as if it was the golden ticket from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

May Yoon Jeonghan be the last to ask for your number.

Wonwoo called after Jeonghan, “In return, all I ask is that you don’t tell Y/N you got the number from me.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he stood up from his desk.

Wonwoo rubbed his neck sheepishly, tips of his ear turning red. “I also don’t want her passing out my number – it’s a pact we made, kinda.”

It all clicked for Jeonghan then, if not more. “Don’t worry,” Jeonghan waved, “I’ll send Dami a text.”

“Hey!”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: Hey – this is Yoon Jeonghan :)

[Jeonghan]: I got it from Wonwoo hehehe.

[Y/N Y/L/N]: ???

[Jeonghan]: Hello?

[Y/N Y/L/N]: [your message not delivered]

. . . .

You don’t hear from Jeonghan after the double blind date.

Not that you were anticipating it, but still– Wonwoo said he was into you and then he chased you down a block to tell you it was nice to meet you!

Ugh – the bar was so damn low.

On the other hand, you do hear from Dami, the two of you quickly becoming better friends. She reached out to you on Instagram, playful chatter turning into occasional hangouts and then weekly coffee runs or walking to the general vicinity of your classes together in between lectures. You were suspicious at first, wondering if she was using you to get closer to Wonwoo, but her intentions seemed sincere. Indeed, she did ask about Wonwoo every now and then, eventually also asking if he was seeing anyone, you didn’t find it particularly annoying. She still wanted to be your friend and understood boundaries, choosing to admire from afar and up close when the opportunity presents.

It also turned out that Wonwoo wasn’t the only one who sensed there was something up about Jeonghan at the blind date as Dami brought it up months later when you passed the barbeque restaurant where you all met that fateful day on a stroll. At this point, you’d like to think Jeonghan became a distant memory – just a fleeting interaction, but there are times that you do catch yourself wondering about him. You wonder what he’s up to, wonder if he’s gone on more blind dates, what would have happened if you were a little more forward and you reached out.

“Oh,” Dami waved you off when you asked about how she got Jeonghan to agree to a blind date with her. “I was just as surprised as the rest of you – that blind date was actually supposed to be with Choi Seungcheol, but I’m not sure what happened. He’s cute, but Jeonghan’s not really my type.”

“I see,” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief for some weird reason. You snuggle your hands deeper into the pockets of your puffer jacket.

A beat passed before Dami asked slowly, “Is Jeonghan your type though?”

You peer down at the shorter girl, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“What?” she asked innocently. “It was totally obvious – he was head over heels for you.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “We literally just met that night.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly. “Ey, haven’t you heard of love at first sight?”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” you corrected her. “I hardly know him and vice versa; how is he supposed to like me already?”

“It’s just . . . a vibe, I guess,” Dami tried to reason, “He liked your vibe.”

“Very scientific,” you replied sarcastically.

“I’m just saying,” Dami shrugged, “I may be a hopeless romantic, but I’ve never seen Jeonghan act out like that before.”

“Did you know him prior?” you asked curiously.

Dami hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. “I knew of him and I’ve seen him here and there, but I never talked to him like that. Our circles never really overlapped, other than Seungcheol. Knowledge by observation – Jeonghan’s not really . . . he’s . . . gosh, kind of hard to explain.”

“How so?” your interest was piqued.

“I don’t know . . . the way he talks . . . it feels like he’s flirting with everyone, but it’s never serious and he’s actually not? You’d think with how playful he is, he’d be an asshole,” Dami fumbled with her words.

You felt your heart sink a little. “So what I’m hearing is . . . this was probably lust at best.”

“No! With you, it was different though! Agh – fuck, wish I was better with words,” Dami protested.

“Doesn’t sound different.”

“Is he your type though?” Dami pressed again, nonetheless.

You took a moment to contemplate, head skimming through your celebrity crushes, things you liked in old exes, things you didn’t like as you learned, growing up. Again, you hardly knew Jeonghan, but you’re slowly starting to piece together the person he seemed to be. He was the kind of man your mother warned you about: good-looking, sweet with their words and actions, but unpredictable – in a bad kind of way.

Eventually, you shook your head, letting out a heavy breath. “Not really – he’s . . . too pretty,” you replied, “Wouldn’t bat an eye on him if I saw him on the metro.” Your voice trailed off as you were not in a mood to explain yourself further. Despite the certainty in your voice, the answer didn’t seem to settle well into your body, making you feel squeamish, a heavy sensation landing in your chest.

So what if Jeonghan wasn’t your type?

Dami hummed in understanding, “I can see that.” She kicked the ball of snow in front of her. “Well then, it’s a good thing you won’t see him again, right?”

“Right.”

“What is your type then?” Dami asked. She quickly added, “Just asking for funsies.”

You smiled, appreciative that she’d indulge in your delusions every now and then.

Just as you parted your lips to start, a deep voice bellowed your name from afar in front of the both of you. Dami and you lift your heads from the icy pavement, to find a broad young man standing a few feet away. His jacket was unzipped, sweater hanging loosely from his shoulders, just enough so that you can see his tattoo peeking out from underneath the collar. He grinned wide, eyes turning into crescents under his thick brows, cheeks and the tip of nose pink.

“B-Baekho,” you stammered. Your lips wobble nervously as if they couldn’t decide whether to smile or hide the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him. “Hey.”

Despite your long-time crush standing before you, you had to make a conscious effort to quell the lingering thoughts of Jeonghan in the back of your mind.

. . . .

You were wrong – you would see Yoon Jeonghan again.

You and Jeonghan shared more mutual friends than you had thought.

It’s Soonyoung’s birthday party. You’re not sure why, Soonyoung was full of surprises, but he invited a handful of his friends out to the outdoor ice skating rink about half an hour from campus. The plan was to hang out there for the afternoon before returning to his apartment for an evening of festivities.

Jeonghan had changed his appearance since you last saw him. His once dark brown hair was now bleach blonde – he’d grown it out, the dark roots peaking through, but the bright ends hung shaggily, skimming over his long velvet lashes. At the chalet while lacing up his skates, he still donned those skittish grins and playful smirks whenever he was teasing his other friends, elbowing them and throwing his head back in a deep laughter, in contrast to his soft voice most days.

You do your best to avoid him, sticking close with Dami (Soonyoung let you bring a plus one) on the rink or choosing to sit close to Wonwoo who opted to stay inside and watch from the chalet. Dami does a pretty good job keeping you busy, anyhow – the girl could hardly skate, clinging onto the walls and calling for you every time you strayed too far. It was moments like this you were thankful your mother put you in ice skating for a brief moment in your youth before you vehemently quit in fourth grade, terrified by the stories of professional figure skaters needing hip surgery and waking up early every Saturday for lessons. It also seemed like Jeonghan was facing the same challenge with the birthday boy. Out of the corner of your eyes every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Soonyoung bent over at a 90 degree angle, hands outstretched clinging onto Jeonghan’s hands like his life depended on it.

“Y/N!” Dami called for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “Y/N! Hey!”

You huffed, growing tired of slowing down for your friend. You loved her! Don’t get it wrong, it’s just you wanted at least one round, where you could whiz around the rink and awaken those skater muscles you once built.

You spun around to face her, skating backwards. “Dami, I think we should get you one of those skating walkers–”

“No, you idiot!” she cried, pointing behind you aggressively, “Watch out!”

Her warning proved too late, however. By the time you faced forward again, you came crashing into a familiar blob of white puffer and a high-pitched, but husky shriek. A set of arms wrapped around your body and you curled yourself inwards, allowing yourself to take refuge into whoever had been your demise and your savior. Mittens clinging onto the slippery material of their coat, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting your fumbling feet still so no one tripped and you both fell.

The both of you eventually hit the side of the rink, eliciting a quiet ‘umph’ from the mystery person. The trauma of the impact seemed to linger a little longer; you were afraid to open your eyes to see yourself sailing towards a whole crowd of people despite feeling yourself still.

“Um,” the person shifted uncomfortably. They tapped your shoulder before trying to peel you off of them, “Y-you can let go.”

You peel your lids open, one by one, cautiously to make sure you were no longer moving. Eventually, you relax, pulling back a little – still holding on nonetheless.

The person cleared their throat, prompting you to look up.

Fuck.

Jeonghan gave you a tight lipped smile, “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” you replied, awkwardly.

“You can let go now,” he looked around, leaning back into the board, “People are staring.”

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself back, letting your skates drift you away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan pretended to be busy and brushed off the invisible wrinkles in his coat.

A beat passed as he straightened out, catching your gaze and letting it linger. You feel your heartbeat hastened, his stare making you nervous and stirring up other feelings in your stomach, but you don’t dare look away – it was weirdly addicting.

“Um well,” Jeonghan finally said, he nodded once, “It was nice seeing you around.”

You panicked, launching yourself towards him and catching his elbow. “Wait!”

Jeonghan threw you a confused look over his shoulder, quietly waiting for you to continue.

“W-wait,” you whispered again under your breath. You inhaled harshly, eyes flickering up to meet him before dropping them to his black and white, scuffed rental skates. “D-do you maybe . . . wanna get hot cocoa?” You pointed back at the chalet and Jeonghan followed your mittens.

He paused, expression unreadable. His brows knitted together, lips pressing into a thin line. He looks all over the place except for you, finally coming to a conclusion and answering, “Sure.”

“Cool,” you nodded.

He was the first to leave, skating towards the entrance of the rink.

You followed quietly.

Dami and Soonyoung watched from afar, both kneeling on the ice, one hand on the side board as their saviors left them to fend on their own.

. . . .

The chalet was bustling with life: mothers with their young children in tow, friends bundled in layers as they waddled unsteadily in their skates towards the entrance, and others strewn across the wooden tables and benches. The young teens behind the cafe counter were certainly sweating away running between the cash register and the food warmers and coffee machines behind them.

Jeonghan had graciously paid for your hot chocolates – not without a fight of course. You didn’t really want your drink to come with drinks attached. The two of you found a small table tucked away near the parking lot. It was a little quieter in this area, a little colder as well with the people coming and going. Nerves wracked your stomach as you tried to be as calm as possible, hopeful that he wouldn’t notice the regret lacing your entire body right now. You wonder if you got a concussion during that collision to even have the gall to invite him for a drink after all these months.

What would you even talk about? It’s not like your conversations during the double date were that deep. Let alone, who were you that he’d remember details about you?

The words exchanged between you and Jeonghan were far and few since the collision on ice – they were more so out of necessity. What you wanted to drink specifically, where you wanted to sit, be careful not to run into the kid whizzing across the chalet main floor.

“You blocked my number,” Jeonghan blurted, interrupting your musing. You were only two sips into your hot chocolate, lips lifting off the rim of your white paper cup. He noted how the brown liquid faintly stained the rim where they once rested.

Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in much longer – the question was ruminating in the back of his mind for the past few months like an annoying fly they couldn’t swat in the house in the summer. He did his damn best to “let it go” like everyone said because “maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” However, it must mean something to have quite literally run into you now and you asked him to drink hot chocolate with you in the chalet, right? He wanted and needed to know your intentions.

Jeonghan watched you intently from the opposite side of the bench, your bustling surroundings melting away. You seemed to be in your own world, your silence ensuing. He noted how your left eyebrow twitched momentarily as if you were confused. It was quick to turn sly, your brow softening again, your lips curving into an amused smirk. It sent chills down Jeonghan’s spine to see your demeanor flip so quickly when you were coy moments earlier. Gears were turning – almost like you were plotting something.

“And?” you asked, bringing up your paper cup of hot chocolate to your lips, the rim covering half of your face.

Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head – the audacity!

“Yet, you’re asking to have a drink together?” Jeonghan continued.

“How’d you get my number in the first place?” you asked instead. You raised a curious eyebrow.

Jeonghan narrowed his gaze, setting his paper cup down roughly with a loud ‘clack’. The warm liquid sloshed around, threatening to spill over. “It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning forward towards him as if to challenge him; pressing Jeonghan to answer your question rather than vice versa. However, what you didn’t know was that Jeonghan was a different breed of man. He did not fall easily under pressure in the presence of a woman he was attracted to – he could sit here in awkward silence as long as you wanted.

You’re not sure how long this showdown actually lasted, losing track of time. Seconds to minutes past, your drinks turned lukewarm and condensation formed on the inside of the unfilled regions of the cup. Admittedly, Jeonghan did grow more frustrated with you; yet he remained hopeful you’d crack. No one could withstand the “Yoon stare,” as Seokmin had dubbed it a few months prior at a drinking party. Nonetheless, perhaps he was a masochist, because for some reason, he was enjoying the company of someone who could keep up with him.

“Yah!” a shrill comes from across the room.

It was only a matter of seconds before Soonyoung, tip of his nose pink, came stomping over, removed his waterproof glove, and smacked the back of Jeonghan’s shoulder. Dami wasn’t far behind, though less upset. She threw you a questioning look, one that told you that you were going to have to explain yourself afterwards.

“And you!” Soonyoung pointed an accusing finger at you. He then pointed it back and forth between you and Jeonghan. “You both suck leaving us stranded and helpless on the ice! You know, a couple of twelve-year-olds had to help us off! Took us almost twenty minutes!”

You shot Soonyoung an apologetic look, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ before he quipped again, asking, “Also, like . . .” His eyes darted at the cups of hot chocolate and the way you were arranged at the table. Pieces began to click together. “What is this?” he tried to sound angry, “A date or something? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other!”

“Yeah,” Dami piped up, “A date or something?”

You coughed at this, turning your head away from them.

Jeonghan made a note of this, raising a curious brow, before turning to Soonyoung. He shrugged and answered, “Or something.”

“Ugh,” Soonyoung groaned, “So you guys are like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked.

Soonyoung opened his mouth to answer, but Dami was quick to cut him off, an agenda of her own brewing. “Soonyoung, wanna grab a bite? And maybe some hot chocolate? My treat? We can go sit by Chan and Wonwoo over there.”

“But–”

“Great!”

Dami winked at Jeonghan, quickly pushing the birthday boy away.

Jeonghan was really curious now. He turned back to you, who was still pretending to be fascinated by the old linoleum floors and the tips of your worn winter boots.

“Yah,” Jeonghan called.

You looked up, lips pursed.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you replied.

“Are you usually this irritating?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Jeonghan let out a huff, blowing his blonde bangs.

You were reaching for your cup and started to rise from your seat.

“Hey, where are you–”

“You look better with brown hair by the way,” you deadpanned. You pointed at your own head, “It looked . . . healthier that way.”

Those were your last words before you set off towards Wonwoo’s and Chan’s table to join the others.

If you were just anyone, Jeonghan might have shot some sassy comment back at your insult. However, like never before, Jeonghan suddenly became anxious – as if you were slipping away like a balloon streamer threatening to drift away from a child’s hand in a windstorm. He felt his heart beginning to race and tongue took control of him. He spun in his seat and blurted after you instead, “Will I see you again?”

You paused in your stride before throwing a confused and mildly annoyed look over your shoulder. Your expression was quick to shift though. A shit-eating grin slowly stretching across your face, you explained casually, “Life . . . is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.” You raise your cup towards him in a final salute.

“Touche,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. .

Jeonghan watched you settle next to Wonwoo, bumping shoulders with your friend who only shot you an annoyed look when he raised his head from his book. Pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, he said something, eliciting a frown and sending you into a pout. It must’ve been a tease because Wonwoo started to chuckle.

Suddenly, another figure entered the scene – a well-built young man, bundled in a navy blue parka that framed his figure in a masculine manner. He had a broad set of shoulders and a thin waist – oh, he definitely worked out. To make matters worse, he was handsome: a sharp jaw and slim nose, his eyes seemingly cold due to their shape, but his gaze, at least towards you, was soft and warm. A pair of matching navy blue earmuffs donned either side of his face; his hair was immaculately well-styled in a side slick despite the wind outside. Jeonghan wondered how much gel he must’ve used to keep it that way. The man greeted you with a few word, possibly a question to sit next to you as far as Jeonghan could tell, because you nodded and scooted over to make room for him. The young man is grinning, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, eyes curving into crescents and he settled in, shoulders bumping against yours. Wonwoo was smooshed up the side of the wall, seemingly displeased though continued to read uninterrupted. Jeonghan found it all the more interesting just how friendly and smiley you were with him relative to himself just moments earlier.

Jeonghan would never admit it out loud, but it kind of . . . infuriated him? An unsettling feeling overcame his chest, Jeonghan unknowingly shifting in his seat, fingers crushing the paper cup of hot chocolate a little tighter.

“You’re jealous,” Seungcheol said, approaching his best friend behind.

Jeonghan looked up then back to you. “Am not.”

“I saw you guys sitting together earlier,” Seungcheol remarked.

“Yeah – she offered.”

“Oh?”

“But then totally blew me off.”

“Yet, all chummy with Mr. Broad and Handsome, over there,” Seungcheol spoke his mind. He chuckled like the asshole he could be.

“Shut up, will you?” Jeonghan snapped.

“Jealous?” Seungcheol patted his back.

“Am not!” Jeonghan screeched a little too defensively.

Seungcheol shook his head, doing his best to suppress his growing grin.

“Then answer me this,” Seungcheol started, “For some reason, despite not knowing much about her, despite her ‘blowing you off,’ there’s a piece of you that still wants to get to know her better. Am I right?”

Jeonghan paused for a moment, considering his friend’s words. Never had Seungcheol made him feel so conflicted. It wouldn’t make sense for him to want to get to know you better after that rude encounter, but the tension from earlier was . . . thrilling? Also, in your defense, you weren’t exactly intentionally rude – he had accused you first of flaking on him, still unclear if you actually did or didn’t. It was kind of addicting and a piece of him was curious as to how far he could push you and vice versa.

An enigma he couldn’t resolve.

“I-I guess?”

Seungcheol clapped suddenly, each one staccato and slow. “And so, Yoon Jeonghan meets his match.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked.

Seungcheol shrugged, “You’ll see – only time can tell.”

That’s what she said.

. . . .

“How did Jeonghan get my phone number?”

“He did?”

“Apparently, he did – but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

Wonwoo shrugged.

“You said he was into me.”

“What about you? Are you into him?”

Silence.

. . . .

It’s the early spring, a month before graduation, when you see each other again – much to Jeonghan’s dismay.

Many things have changed, one of them being that Dami and Soonyoung started dating a couple of weeks after their traumatic encounter on the ice. They’re sickeningly cute, but the important thing was that they made so much sense. Though they were still early on in their relationship, it could very well just be the ‘honeymoon phase,’ but fights were far and few between. They were two wholesome souls with hardworking drives, lifting each other up, yet also somehow knowing what the other needs. All it took was a simple glance from across the room, Jeonghan would imagine some sort of telepathy going on between them before Soonyoung waddled over Dami and whispered a few words to her, her glum expression brightening instantaneously and vice versa.

Even Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the sight of them. A part of him was envious. Not in a toxic sense, but also longing when he’d meet his soulmate like that – not that he was some hopeless romantic and believed in soulmates or anything (he’d like to think had some agency in choosing his partner, rather than leaving it up to the good old hands of fate), but there was a nice feeling to the thought of being with someone who just got you like that.

Many things had also not changed, the main one being his perennial quest to get close to you.

Or perhaps rather, the lack thereof.

Jeonghan spent the last several months debating if he should contact you again. You blocked his number; would it be right of him to slide into your Instagram DM’s? You didn’t follow one another, however, which made things all the more complex.

Yet, your last few words lingered in the back of his mind: Life is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.

What did that even mean? Were you hinting at him to pursue you? Was that your way of avoiding him?

Ironically, Jeonghan relented and decided to leave this up to fate. Seungcheol urged him to reach out to you, claiming the worst thing you could say to him was ‘no’, but Jeonghan wasn’t sure he could handle that currently – not when you left off on such a weird note.

Maybe whatever gods out there were on his side, however, because Jeonghan ran into again at a karaoke bar. The two of you had more mutual friends than you thought – or rather really, you ended up being Wonwoo’s plus one to all these things, showing up glued to his hip.

Neon color lights dance across the dark room with tacky, faux leather orange benches, as Minghao and Seokmin sing a trot rendition of Beyonce’s ‘All the Single Ladies,’ the latter somehow acquiring a sogo drum and beating an out of tune rhythm across the room. You were tucked away in a corner wedged in between Wonwoo and that handsome man from the chalet again. Despite the lively energy, you were only quietly swaying, seemingly lost in another world. The handsome man (Jeonghan had come to learn that his name was ‘Baekho’) whispered something in your ear every now and then, maybe checking up on you, but you’d only respond with a tight smile, quick to divert your eyes from him to your hands. Jeonghan couldn’t decide if it was out of coyness or you weren’t truly up to being here tonight.

Jeonghan didn’t try to sit next to you when he arrived. For one reason being he’d arrived late so you were already settled and didn’t pay mind to him. The other reason being he didn’t want to raise suspicions trying to wedge himself between you and Baekho.

Just what was exactly your relationship with Baekho? With how he seemed to whisper so tenderly to your ear, Jeonghan was almost inclined to think you were dating, but your eyes seemed so . . . hollow? It wasn’t quite the same as the way Dami’s orbs lit up when she saw Soonyoung.

“Quit staring,” Seungcheol elbowed Jeonghan, interrupting his musing. Jeonghan winced, shooting Seungcheol a dirty look.

“I wasn’t,” Jeonghan remarked.

Seungcheol waved off his friend. “You should go talk to her – or at least say ‘hi.’”

“And why would I do that?” Jeonghan retorted stupidly, instantly regretting the words that just spewed from his mouth.

His best friend gave him an incredulous look. “This is the first time you see her in months and that’s what you’re telling me? Please! You’re about to burn holes into Baekho’s head with those laser eyes of yours – no one is not not noticing the way your eyes keep lingering over to them.”

“Who am I to interfere with whatever they have?” Jeonghan waved his hand at some abstract object in the air as if it represented your relationship with Baekho.

“Yoon Jeonghan – that’s who,” Seungcheol shoved him roughly, nearly sending him sailing out of his seat.

“Hey!” his footing stuttered and if it weren’t for his fast, he would’ve face planted into the table.

“Go!” Seungcheol hissed.

Eyes were already starting to linger on Jeonghan, the young man having no choice but to play it cool like he was getting up to go somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught you looking at him momentarily, heating his spine up and making him feel stupidly giddy. He let out a quiet cough, relaxing his shoulder and slipping his hand into his jean pocket, stepping over people’s feet in your direction.

If he can’t put himself between you and Baekho, he’ll just ask Wonwoo to scoot over – no biggie, right?

Jeonghan was only about two steps away when he opened his mouth to greet you. However, you were quick to ignore him, shifting out of your seat and pointed to the exit of the karaoke room, whispering something quick to Baekho. He stood up, making room for you to leave and you scurried towards the opaque door.

Well, fuck.

“Your luck is terrible,” Wonwoo remarked. He scooted over to make room for Jeonghan. With a heavy sigh, the bleach blonde man flopped into the empty spot. If the others weren’t now belting Justin Bieber at the top of their lungs, you would’ve heard the hard impact between Jeonghan’s body and this godly uncomfortable bench.

“Well, gee – thanks, like I didn’t know,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically.

“I’m . . . impressed, honestly,” Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest.

“About what?”

“You’ve never been hung up on someone for this long – let alone, not make a move,” Wonwoo explained further.

“Well I mean, I kind of left a sour taste in her mouth,” Jeonghan noted.

Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, glancing at his friend from the side. Jeonghan ceased to notice, both due to the way the light from the flat screen was dancing across his glasses and he was simply lost in his own heartsick musing.

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asked carefully.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Jeonghan scoffed. “I confronted her about her blocking my number.”

“She blocked your number?” Wonwoo said slowly – asking more than he was stating.

Ugh – why was he was playing stupid? Jeonghan thought you were good friends!

“Yeah,” Jeonghan kicked at the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

Wonwoo kept a straight face, only nodding. He quietly noted that maybe he just forgot – he was busy these days. However, what Jeonghan doesn’t know is that Wonwoo was finally and slowly putting all the pieces of your prefatory love story together.

Oh, how miscommunication was an amazing plot tool.

“You should go check on her,” Wonwoo nudged Jeonghan after a moment.

“Huh?” Jeonghan knitted his brows together. “Why?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “She’s been gone for a bit – said, she went to get air. Tell her I sent you.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes on his friend. Just what was he playing at?

Wonwoo leaned in close, “Or would you rather me ask Baekho to go check on her?”

That was the impetus Jeonghan needed, snapping out of his suspicious daze and getting up from his seat.

It was now or never.

. . . .

You don’t seem to notice Jeonghan when he tumbled out the front door of the karaoke bar, leaning against the red brick wall, eyes trained up in the sky. Jeonghan looked up briefly to see what you were looking at, only to note the gray heavy clouds blocking the moon and the stars. The streets were starting to become more dynamic as people were filling up the streets. Young couples giggled, hand-in-hand, groups of friends bellowing out in laughter at inside jokes, while elderly shop owners pitched their tent – their grills starting to heat up the grease that were just slathered across them.

Yet, you only continued to sigh and look at the sky, your vibe not quite matching the eccentricity of what was going on inside or outside.

Jeonghan neared you, hands tucked in his jeans still, scuffing the dark pavement as he called out, “Hey.”

You look down and to the side at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a tight smile before looking away.

He teetered on the balls of his feet. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said. This sent Jeonghan back to your conversation at the skating chalet. However, your tone is less lively and playful this time – half-hearted.

“It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question, you know?” Jeonghan joked.

You chortled softly, “It wasn’t actually a question.”

Jeonghan took another step towards you, opting to stand a few feet away from you, side-by-side. “Same difference.”

Neither of speak further, letting silence envelope you both once more and suddenly it just felt like him and you in this little space despite the night coming alive around you. The silence is different this time though, in that rather than tension, there was comfort – a mutual, unspoken understanding that it was just needed.

Jeonghan almost relished it, until his intrusive thoughts remembered–

“Wonwoo sent me to check on you by the way,” he blurted.

You smile small, “That bastard.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Jeonghan. “Well, you checked up on me,” you gestured back to the building behind you. “You can go back – I’m okay.”

Jeonghan cocked his head slightly at you, a crease forming between his brows as he takes you in. There was a bite to all your responses, but it lacked your usual flair. He’s not sure what it was exactly, but something told him maybe, you weren’t as okay as you led onto be.

“What?” you asked when he didn’t reply or move.

Sometimes, maybe it was better not to think too hard about it, Jeonghan decided.

Maybe, he just needed to do what felt right.

“Do you . . .” his voice trailed off as he hesitated for a moment, but he picked up right again. “Do you wanna go for a walk actually?”

You were taken aback, shoulders settling back and your faux smile falling into a small pout instead.

Despite his cool and collected demeanor that he hoped he was displaying, in his head, he was quietly chanting, “Please say yes,” as if it was a mantra that would trance you into going on this walk with him.

Maybe it does work, however, because even though you don’t say ‘yes,’ you take off in a direction without him. Jeonghan froze momentarily, in disbelief and relief, jaw slack and small breath escaping his lips.

You must’ve sensed the lack of his presence behind you because you spin around, your jean pleated skirt twirling prettily in the process.

Cocking your head at him, you simply asked, “Coming?”

Maybe, Jeonghan should leave it up to fate more.

(Or just Wonwoo.)

. . . .

Fate was cruel.

And Jeonghan was over dramatic and impatient – at least, in Seungcheol’s eyes.

The walk that evening was rather uneventful, but it gave Jeonghan hope – so much damn hope. Initially, Jeonghan only tailed you until you asked him why he was doing that and he jogged to walk beside you. Naturally, your footsteps fell in sync, Jeonghan wondering if he was the only one who noticed. Far and few words were exchanged like at the skating center, but neither of you minded. Like prior, the silence was tranquil, bringing a sense of calm and comfort to the both of you. You seemed to relax, a genuine smile springing on your face as you passed various shops, eyes lighting up at the sight of the few bakeries and the few childish remarks of trinkets in the windowsill.

To be frank, and Jeonghan wasn’t always, even with himself, you were fucking adorable – and he wanted to know this feeling more. This sensation that melted his heart every time his gaze flickered over to you, this joy that fills his body and courses through his veins; yet despite all this heart fluttering sensation, there was a sense of simplicity and effortlessness that accompanied it all. It made him feel like he could do this . . . for a long time.

Maybe he was insane and beyond himself – he hardly knew anything about you, but he liked it. He wasn’t sure he felt this way before. He was a non-believer of love at first sight, but a piece of him wanted to defy this reality he knew. He wondered if this is how Soonyoung felt about Dami on the regular.

Jeonghan doesn’t find out why you were feeling down earlier that evening. Jeonghan doesn’t ask to exchange Instagram’s with you. Jeonghan doesn’t ask when he will see you again because he knew he would – he had to.

He reveled about you to Seungcheol. The short twenty minute walk felt like a lifetime; when it came to a halt and you arrived back at the karaoke bar and how he didn’t want to go inside, but he did anyway. He wondered what you did the next day and the day after. Did you go back to those bakeries with anyone? Did you buy that scarf you were eyeing through the clear glass?

But okay, maybe it was a mistake to leave it all up to fate. The thrill of it was quick to fade and entered misery and longing.

Jeonghan didn’t meet you again until graduation.

Countless, prolonged, corny speeches about the future and hard work given, long lines of people waiting for their empty diploma cases passed, a flurry of black caps thrown, tears cried, cheers shouted, and hugs exchanged later, Jeonghan spotted you in the middle of an aisle by yourself. You were waving good-bye to a classmate before you turned to walk down the path of green grass alone. Eyes trained on the ground, one foot in front of another, you unknowingly made your way towards him. There was a smalling, toothless smile on your face slowly fading with each step.

You must’ve sensed his presence because you stopped a few feet away. The smile returned, making Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. His face mirrored your own, the world seeming to fade around the both of you once again.

“Hey stranger,” you quipped. He was holding his graduation cap in one hand. You note how his roots were showing, the bleach blonde growing and now shading over his eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted. Folding his hands behind him, he took a few steps closer towards you. He tipped his head forward, “Congratulations.”

You saluted him and sent a playful wink in his direction. “You likewise.”

Jeonghan chuckled. His eyes wandered up to the sky a bit as his next question formed. How did he ask this without making it too obvious?

“What are your plans after all of this?” Jeonghan asked. He held his hands out, gesturing to the field of new graduates greeting their friends and family joyfully.

“Um,” you chuckled, “Dinner with my family probably?” You scratched your head and looked around for them briefly before turning back to him. Your lips parted to ask ‘you’, but Jeonghan beat you to it.

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled, waving you off, “I meant like . . . future-future – career plans and all.”

“Oh,” you said, your voice much softer now. “That.”

Jeonghan tilted his head curiously.

“I’ll be . . . around,” you pressed your lips together and chuckled softly, “Um . . . I’m honestly not sure – what I had planned, didn’t pan out.”

There was a flash of worry across your face – Jeonghan probably presuming you were thinking he thought you were pathetic and a failure. However, that was not how he felt. If anything, his heart panged for you a little. He didn’t claim to know what you were feeling, heck, he hardly knew much about you still – Jeonghan would like to think he knew a thing or two about disappointment.

“C-can I?” he stammered. He opened his arms for you slightly, quietly asking for a hug.

Your eyes widened. “U-um.” Your feet were already clumsily tripping over one another towards him though.

Jeonghan pulled you in, your lips pressed into the shoulder of his graduation gown. Initially tense in his hold, with each breath, his woody cologne overwhelming your senses, the hug became more bearable . . . comfortable. You relaxed, bringing your hands up around his waist. You felt him patting your back gently as if to quietly reassure you.

“The world doesn’t just end because one plan went awry,” he offered.

You snorted and joked, “Just what I needed – another speech on resilience.”

Jeonghan pulled away, grinning at you really hard. He could’ve sworn he probably looked like an idiot, but he didn’t really care – this could be the last time he saw you ever.

“The world has a funny way of working out,” Jeonghan pressed on. “Fate . . . it isn’t too bad – most of the time.”

“Darling!” you heard your mother call from behind you. Instantly, your cheeks grew hot, already envisioning 101 scenarios as to how this conversation would go with Jeonghan meeting your family like this. Your mother in particular, was a fickle woman who had a lot of predictions.

“There you are!” your younger brother jumped on you, hooking his arm around your neck.

“Congratulations!” you heard one of your cousins shout as well, wedging celebratory balloons between you and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan chuckled to himself. His heart sinking a little – maybe this is all you and Jeonghan would be to each other.

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your mother asked, of course, first of all people and things. She gestured to Jeonghan. Her eyes were curious, scanning him up and down.

Your younger brother released you and you straightened yourself out. You waved for Jeonghan to hold up his hand to greet your mom.

“Mom, this is Yoon Jeonghan, my uh . . .”

What were you two exactly?

“Friend,” Jeonghan finished for you. “Y/N’s friend – we met through Wonwoo.”

“Friend?” your mom repeated suspiciously.

“Friend,” Jeonghan nodded in reassurance.

“Friend,” you said again – it left a funny taste in your mouth though.

“Well, pleasure to meet you,” your mom took his hand. Your dad, a kind, but quieter man, followed shortly after.

After some small talk, Jeonghan excused himself from your family, explaining he needed to find his own. He gave you one last longing look when he said goodbye, sending you off with a small wave of his shoulder. It was accompanied by a tender smile; a bittersweet tint to his eyes. It made your heartache a little, a sense of panic overtaking you when your family pulled you away.

You decided, you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Yoon Jeonghan.

Yes, perhaps, he did mention moving to another city for his new job, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to lose this chance.

You asked your cousin to lend you a pen and hastily rip out a scrap of the placeholder in your diploma (it wasn’t your actual degree anyways – that would be coming in the mail after your finals were graded). Quickly, you scribble your phone number onto it. Folding it up, you excuse yourself briefly from your family, not caring if your mom noticed and would lecture you later about how girls shouldn’t make the first move and that if Jeonghan liked you, he would’ve already asked you out.

“Jeonghan!” you shouted.

He turned around, a few steps away from who you presumed was his family. They also tuned in, eyes turning to observe the interaction.

He was smiling, though evidently confused.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you marched towards him and held up the folded paper in your hand, gesturing for him to take it. He didn’t take it. His eyes only flickered from you then the paper, then back at you.

When he doesn’t make a move, you reach for his wrist, pressing it into his palm and folding his fingers over, ignoring the way your cheeks felt ablaze.

“See you around, Yoon Jeonghan.”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: You fucker

[Wonwoo]: Excuse me?

[Jeonghan]: [insert image]

[Jeonghan]: Your handwriting is HORRENDOUS!

[Jeonghan]: It was a 4 not a 6!

[Wonwoo]: LMAO

[Jeonghan]: Fuck you

[Wonwoo]: Hey – think of it as part of the plot. You’ll thank me later.

[Jeonghan]: Whatever

[Wonwoo]: Well???

[Jeonghan]: ?

[Wonwoo]: Are you just gonna curse me or are you going to text her!?

. . . .

[Uknonwn number]: Hi 🙂

[Unknown number]: This is Yoon Jeonghan – please don’t block me!

[Unknown number]: . . . um hello?

[Unknown number]: omg did i fuck this up again

[Y/N]: [your message not delivered]

[jeonghan]: well fuck.

[Y/N]: Haha – jk.

[Y/N]: Hi Jeonghan 🙂

. . . .

You and Jeonghan found yourselves texting daily and calling nearly nightly. It started out as simple banter, but evolved to mundane questions of what you ate for lunch to 3AM discussions ranging anywhere from your post-bac thesis to whether straws had one or two holes.

The calls at night were short on the weekdays, but they were disgustingly long on the weekends. Rather than going out on Friday nights, Jeonghan would make excuses to not go to the bar with his new colleagues as to just be able to talk with you on the phone for hours and hours. At some point, they caught on that Friday nights were reserved for you, teasing him about the much anticipated call as they left the office. Jeonghan being the seemingly transparent and nonchalant man he is, just chuckled and brushed it off.

Typically, he’d give you a ring around 8PM on FaceTime. He’d watch you cook, maybe even eat his delivery while you ate dinner, and you’d talk for hours thereafter about everything and nothing into the early morning hours, only stopping when you drifted off to sleep or he claimed he was aging prematurely and was tired.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you whispered into your phone one evening. His end of the call was already dark, only a lamp in the distance illuminating his features. You peaked up to see him keeping one eye open underneath his bed of hair that was an ashy sombre now, blending his dark roots with a more neutral blonde.

He hummed softly, signaling he was still there. “Technically, you just did.”

You chortled. “Prick – maybe I won’t.”

“I’m kidding,” he raised his head to look at you. Sleep was heavy on his eyes, his lids weighing down. “What’s up?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to forgo the question that has been haunting you recently. You opt to redirect the conversation in another direction instead.

“I got an internship,” you told him.

This truly woke him off. “What? Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Where at?”

“Park Consultants,” you told him, “But, I’m not sure I should take it.”

“Love, what?” Jeonghan said, confused.

You pretend to bury you face in frustration, but you were really trying to hide the way your lips wobbled at the nickname: Love.

When did the two of you get this far?

Despite things going well between you and Jeonghan, there were always those thoughts that lingered in your mind.

It was clear, there was nothing ‘just platonic’ about your relationship, as Wonwoo had pointed out several times. “Just get married already!” he’d joke.

Yet, the unconventional nature of it, made you wary.

It was only when Jeonghan moved away did the two of you become closer and it didn’t sit well with you. You remember vehemently telling Dami you couldn’t do long distance relationships – you had trust issues and were the jealous type. Yet, here you were glued to your phone most times of the day you weren’t working to talk to him. Your perspective of him was limited to a small rectangular screen – was he really who he presented himself to be? Your mother had always warned you about men like Jeonghan too – charming and playful with a smooth tongue, but snakes behind your back. You wondered if he was seeing someone else. In technicality, it was within his right; the two of you weren’t anything in particular. She also told you once that girls should not initiate, but be pursued – at least from graduation on, that was definitely not your story.

“I wonder,” you stabbed your wooden spoon into your ice cream turning to Wonwoo, “Could it be that I just . . . like him because he reassured me at my lowest?”

You and Wonwoo had met up for ice cream. Tonight, Jeonghan’s family was visiting him, so he had told you ahead of time he couldn’t call as he would be spending time with him. The topic of you and Jeonghan resurfaced and you needed a reasonable sounding board.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo sniffled, feeling the tip of his nose grow cold from the chilled treat.

“I just don’t want to end up being one of those girls who fall for someone because he was like, my ‘knight in shining armor’ who whisked me away when I was a damsel in distress,” you explained. “Graduate school didn’t quite pan out – I had just gotten rejected when we went on that walk that night we went to the karaoke bar and then graduation. I’m just worried I’m swooning for the wrong reason. I don’t want my relationship to be hinged on pity and depending on him.”

Wonwoo snorted, much to your surprise. Your expression was quick to change into a scowl. “What?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “When were you ever a damsel in distress? And if anything, Jeonghan was never and will never be anyone’s knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t think you get it,” you muttered, picking at the clump of cookie dough.

“Yes,” Wonwoo swallowed the ice cream left in his mouth before continuing. “You may have met him at your lowest, but that’s not what matters. He didn’t save you and you didn’t save him. Neither of you needed saving to begin with – you’re both capable of picking yourselves up in the situation as shown.” Wonwoo held out his hands, “The way I see it, he was the first person you could readily be vulnerable with and that is what matters. Someone you feel safe with – amidst other things of course. Y/N you could hardly meet up with me that week and Jeonghan did it in the matter of seconds. I think that says something.”

“But you know, my mom said–”

“Fuck what your mom says – trust yourself for once, okay?” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. To his defense, you’ve spiraled about your mother’s expectations for you to him many times before and it was tiring. It was rare that Wonwoo just swore like that. “Maybe he’s not the stellar, perfect future son-in-law she has preached your entire life, but that’s okay. Trust him – trust Jeonghan. Despite his annoying antics sometimes, he’s a good guy – he’s always been. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.”

. . . .

Jeonghan returned to the city almost a year and a half later for the holidays. The both of you try to arrange for plans to meet up, but in the spirit of the holiday season, timing doesn’t quite work out right due to family. Jeonghan invited you to his family Christmas party, but you suddenly became bashful, unsure of how he’d introduce you to his immediate family, let alone his cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles.

Friend? Girlfriend? Friend girl?

You declined politely, explaining to him it was too overwhelming. Gratefully, Jeonghan was understanding, promising to stay in town a little longer after the New Year’s for you – it made you feel all weird and tingling inside.

Like you were special.

Nonetheless, you were fated to meet once more before that as Minghao and his now fiance threw a New Year’s Eve party at his penthouse and you were both invited. You were unsure if Jeonghan would make it, however, as he mentioned his younger sister had a small celebration she wanted him to attend. You end up third wheeling Soonyoung and Dami to the party as Soonyoung offered to drive, but mingle amongst the others.

Just as you’re finding yourself getting more immersed in your conversation with Seungcheol and his girlfriend, the lighthearted and drunken banter regarding his tattoo experience was interrupted by a nerve wracking, but familiar, presence. Someone’s hand slipped around your waist, a warmth blooming across your body, the silver long-sleeved dress seemingly not so warm. Smile fading, you turn to the figure standing in the once empty spot on your left to find Jeonghan occupying the space with a playful smirk stretching from ear-to-ear. He gives Seungcheol an apologetic look and then pulls you closer into his side. The latter grinned, raising his cup in greeting and a silent good luck.

Despite his flirtatious advances, there was a glint of alarm and plea in his eyes. Your lips parted to question him, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Jeonghan leaned forward, turning his head to better dip into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. The waft of soju about him stung your nose; the warm, small breeze from his small, hesitant breath made you shudder. You gripped your own red solo cup a little tighter, crinkling the edges in the process.

There was no ‘hello’, ‘I missed you’, and no wave. He simply leaned in and asked, “Dance with me?” His voice was low, loud enough just for you to hear as if he was sharing a secret no one else dares to know.

He was wiggling his eyebrows playfully when he pulled back to look at you. The way he tugged you towards the crowd in the living room, fingers hooking tightly with yours, told you there really wasn’t a choice.

Whether you want to or not, you were going to dance with him.

Jeonghan handed off his red solo cup to a random presumed man standing by, chatting up a girl in a strapless silver mini dress. The stranger looked confused, but Jeonghan didn’t mind – his eyes were trained on you, as if you were the only person in the room. The bodies bumping into him didn’t seem to bother him; his grip on your hand was unrelenting, fearful to lose you amidst the sea of intoxicated party goers. His roguish expression made your breath hitch; you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

Your musing was interrupted by Jeonghan’s sudden pull. Swiftly, your feet tumbled over one another and before you could register, you were flushed against his chest. Jeonghan brought up his hand, ghosting against the small of your back until his arm is fully wrapped around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, pressing a hand to his chest.

He grinned like you were the only thing at this party that brought him joy.

“That’s no way to greet a friend after so long,” Jeonghan frowned.

“Neither is sleazily dragging me onto the dance floor,” you faked a pout, “Consent in this day and age is sexy, Jeonghan.”

“Like you’d say no to dancing with me,” he teased. “But if you insist,” he stepped back and gave you a knowing look. “Would you like to dance with me, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled girlishly, nodding and extending an arm for him to come back.

He had a point – you’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeonghan do at this point.

The music suddenly slows, the fast and heavy beat melding into something mellower.

Fate was cruel, but sometimes, it was nice.

(Or maybe Wonwoo just requested Jihoon to DJ a slower song – just a thought.)

“How’ve you been?” Jeonghan finally asked. He peered at you, the lights bouncing off his dark irises. His steps slowed and you followed, rocking from side to side to meet the new rhythm.

“You ask that as if we don’t talk every day,” you remarked. You’re embarrassed, nonetheless, turning your head so you don’t meet his eyes.

“It has been precisely fourteen days and,” Jeonghan peered at his watch quickly, “twelve-ish hours since we last talked on the phone. A lot can happen in that time.”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “Such as?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as he came to a halt. Hand slipping down to link with your own, he ran his thumb across your knuckles as he finally caught your gaze. You were nervous – or maybe, it was just the champagne coursing through your veins. Your eyes were blown wide and glossy, breathing shallow. You were still, holding your arms close to your body. He did wonder if there was a piece of him that fucked up.

“Could I show you instead?” Jeonghan asked.

He didn’t wait for an answer, only holding onto your hand firmly and weaving in and out of the crowd until you met a set of stairs that led you to the top floor of the penthouse.

Oh my god . . . he wouldn't, right?

Jeonghan moved to a room on the left, twisting the pearly white knob, and pausing briefly to make sure it was empty before entering.

He pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you. It was dark – only the city lights and slivers of the waxing moon slipping through the murky white tulle curtains. It lit up a slit from the large balcony window, tracing a path to Jeonghan and you, who were now pressed up against the door.

He was awfully close – one tip of your chin and your lips would touch.

Wait – what!?

Why were you thinking about kissing him?

The franticness of it all must’ve been evident on your features, Jeonghan’s sly grin only growing further, eyes curving to mimic the moon. There was a wink of light in his dark brown orbs – warm, mischievous– before he pushed away, tucking his hands into his suit pants.

“Just kidding,” he finally quipped.

You let out a small breath and ease away from the door.

He pointed a teasing finger at you, “You were flustered, weren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Your palms grew sweaty and the tips of your ears grew hot. You were about to turn and open the door again, when you heard Jeonghan quietly call for you to wait.

You spun around to face him again, finding him scratching his temple, he turned back to face you. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Huh?” you questioned.

“I figured it was time to ask you, um . . . be an adult about it,” he continued. Jeonghan smiled at you, his lips in a tilt as he was amused but trying so hard to stick to the agenda. He muttered, “Wonwoo said you would never get it until I asked like this so . . .” Before you have a chance to question him again, Jeonghan sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, inhaling sharply. “Look, I’m not the best at being . . . uh, explicit about my feelings, but for you, I figured I could be, but um . . . say, uh, what do you say, love?”

And your world stopped, breath hitching. Your dress suddenly felt too tight.

What did he just call you?! Again!

“I . . . like you a lot and I have for quite some time now, if you haven’t noticed,” Jeonghan pressed on. He exhaled deeply, letting out a quiet whoosh. Jeonghan tilted his head back and fidgeted for a moment, eliciting at a quiet chortle from you. “What if we tried this . . . dating thing? Yeah?”

The tension Jeonghan felt now was unbearable. It was different from the one at the skating chalet, different from the one at the karaoke bar. Like a rubber band pulled taut to its wits end, he was barely holding on as your quietness ensued.

You suddenly start laughing, throwing your head back in guffaw and slapping your knee. Jeonghan was a bit scared – both just of you and what that meant. Did you not feel the same? Was he the one who got played?

Did he really just rearrange his life to be rejected?

Heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, your laughter died down as you made your way towards him. Each step felt so long and far away, but it was only a matter of seconds before your arms were wrapped around his neck. Your fingers played with the fringes of his back hairs, eyes gazing up at him – indecipherable, if he was being honest.

Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t as good at reading you as he thought.

Taking him by surprise, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was brief, but it burned – it was efficient if your goal was to suck all the air out of Jeonghan’s lungs in the matter of the two seconds your lips touched.

That or he was just stunned at your boldness – it was hard to predict.

“You look nice with black hair, by the way,” you noted when you pulled away. Your ran your hand through the front fringes, then teased them back into place.

“What–”

You tiptoed, giving him another kiss – this one longer. He wasn’t prepared, stiff at first, but quick to lean into it and adjust himself to better slot your lips together. Jeonghan gripped onto your waist, the material of your dress bunching into his hands.

“Took you long enough, asshole,” you muttered in between pecks when you pulled away. Jenoghan’s lips chased after you, not quite ready to let go.

“Hey! Your best friend was the one who gave me the wrong number,” Jeonghan shot back. “We could’ve been dating two years ago.”

“Not my fault he writes like a third grader,” you chuckled.

“He said it was for the plot.”

“Can we just stop talking about Wonwoo when we’re kissing? It feels kind of weird.”

“You know, if you think about it, he’s kind of the main character without being the main character.”

“Okay,” you pulled away, pushing at his chest lightly.

“Wait!” Jeonghan giggled, “Come back – I’ll stop.”

“If we stay here any longer, people will get the wrong idea,” you tried to come up with an excuse.

Jeonghan wiggled his brows playfully, pulling you back. “Like I care?”

. . . .

[Present]

“So, that’s why the joke was that Nina was conceived that night,” Wonwoo explained to Leah.

“But she wasn’t because timing wise that wouldn’t make sense – I didn’t carry her for a year and a half,” you interjected. You quickly added, “We didn’t do anything either – just kissed and Jeonghan’s social battery was low so we stayed there until midnight and then I fell asleep.”

“I get that – don’t worry,” Leah waved you off. “But . . . uh, the two of you got married pretty fast then – only a year of dating, huh?”

You and Jeonghan looked at each other, gaze softening.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean that and a year and a half of missed opportunities and pining, but . . . I dunno, it just made sense.”

You nodded in agreement.

“That’s sweet,” Leah smiled, “I’m glad it worked out for you guys in the end and you got that job to bring you back here. Fate is so quirky sometimes.”

“Babe,” Wonwoo shoved a spoonful of chocolate cake into his mouth. His words were garbled, “Please don’t make them sentimental – they’re kinda gross and sappy when they get into it.”

“Uncle Wonwoo, mommy says no talking with food in your mouth!” Nina exclaimed.

He gave the little girl an apologetic look and swallowed . . . without chewing.

Three pairs of eyes widened, the little one not thinking much of it.

“Did you just–” Y/N started, but was too stunned to continue.

“Are you okay?!” Leah exclaimed. She passed him her own glass of water. Wonwoo wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled sheepishly, first at her then you and Jeonghan. “Please don’t choke – we’re getting married in less than a month!”

“Mommy, mommy! Can I try?” Nina exclaimed.

“No,” you deadpanned. Nina knew that voice, going back to play with her spoon instead.

Jeonghan guffawed, “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re marrying him!”

Woonwoo gave him a dark look, gesturing to his daughter. Anyone who knew Wonwoo knew he didn’t like cussing, let alone, around children. “Language,” he scolded.

. . . .

[Bonus]

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you stated as you wiped the wet cup. Jeonghan had his nose stuck in the dishwasher, making sure all the items were arranged appropriately.

“Hm?” He waited for you to continue.

“We all know why I fell for you, but . . . what made you fall for me? At first, that is,” you asked. “I feel like I never got a clear grasp on that.”

Jeonghan grinned, standing up from his crouched position. He stepped towards you, planting a hand on your waist. “That’s easy.”

“Is it?” you raised your eyebrows, curiously.

He hummed and nodded adamantly. “I thought you knew.”

“Well, you’re not the most forward about everything,” you noted.

“You remember the perilla leaf debate?”

“Yeah.”

“It was that,” he explained, “Dami had asked and your answer was that you’re the jealous type, so you’d peel it for everyone to avoid bad vibes and hurting your own feelings – and while saying that, you were actually peeling the perilla for everyone.”

Your jaw grew slack, swatting at him with the dish towel. “That’s it?” you exclaimed.

“I mean, it was an added bonus that you were kind of cute,” Jeonghan joked.

“You suck.”

“What? I love the self-awareness and honesty!”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

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websterss · 19 days

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: If there's one thing Caleb is scared of it's the color red and the devil.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, some fluff, implications of smut, some making out

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,604

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! This was one fic I lost when I made a new blog and was reposting my works. It's not exactly the same but I stuck to the same plot as best as I could.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You had caught Luke's eye as soon as he stepped out onto the floor. Many people flaunting and going amidst their night caught his attention. He felt that he and the guys were a little underdressed for the fancy club, but it had been your appearance alone that had you catching their eyes like flies. They were drawn to you in particular. Luke most of all, couldn't sway where his sights were directed towards.

"Hey boys, I'll be right back." He made to move past Reggie, his hand on his chest in passing but was stopped when Willie intersected him. Luke looked down at the hand that Willie pressed against his chest. He scoffed in amusement. "Where's the fire?"

"N-Nowhere, but there could be. I wouldn't recommend it. Not her. Y/n isn't someone you just go up and talk to." Willie's face fell with fear.

"Oh yeah, why's that? Is she important or something?" Luke laughed, but Willie wasn't finding Luke's advances towards you hilarious. "She off-bounds?"

"Yea- Yeah, she is in fact," Willie said nervously. After taking notice of Willie's shift in tone when he spoke of you, Luke's eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

"What are you getting at, Willie? You seem protective." Luke questioned as he put two and two together. He was almost certain that Alex was Willie's crush, he didn't take him to swing both ways or had he simply misread him, that and the way he reacted just now…it seemed unprecedented. "I thought you liked Alex?" Luke crossed his arms.

"I do- It's not like that. Just- Just promise me you won't approach her. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you guys." Willie pleads.

Luke couldn't help but raise a brow, Willie was acting like she was some sort of monster. "A heartbreaker then, that's okay Willie. I've had my fair share of girls like her." He smiled boyishly. He reached up to slap Willie on his upper arm in reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen." Luke shrugged off Willie. Willie was being dramatic. The interest of doing something irrational intrigued him like a child who was told to not play with fire.

"Luke, I mean it. She's not even a regular. You won't see her that much. She's only ever here on business."

"Only ever here for business, huh?" Luke repeated curiously with an eyebrow up. "Then why can't I talk to her? What's gonna happen, Willie?" Luke wasn't one for following orders, that was not in his nature. He couldn't stand being told what not to do, it only made him crave what he wasn't meant to have or do even more. So, it was no mistake that Willie had made one just now. This little curiosity of Luke's was going to get the best of him. The way Willie made it sound like you did some kind of illicit activity intrigued him even more. "What, does she work for the mob or something?" He said half-jokingly with a brow lift. It was only natural to be enticed by a beautiful woman whom people were being tight-lipped about, it only made you seem more interesting and willing to know more about in his books.

"N-Nothing good." He muttered softly. "Why don't I show you guys to your table?"

"Yes, please!" Alex raised a finger, eager to move past Willie's sudden fear-stricken face.

"You guys go ahead. I'll be right back." Luke finally did move past Reggie and began making his way over to you.

"Luke, I wouldn't!" Willie exclaimed.

"I'm just gonna say hi." He turned to walk backwards as he faced him with a cheeky smile. Then turned as he approached the empty bar, beside you and the bartender giving you your drinks with shaky hands. That had him raising his brows with interest.

"Hi Marcus, long time no see." You flashed the man with a sweet smirk. Marcus's smile fell upon the realization you were sitting before the bar. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hands letting it fall to the ground with a smash. He winced at the sound of it breaking. He remained composed as your smile didn't let up. You were the mere image of innocence, you conjured up the identity of a teenage girl this time around. Last year you looked older, dressed up as a woman in a black dress, but this by far was his least favorite one on you, your childlike nature and appearance was scaring him shitless. Your soul was pure rotten, you by no means represented youth and innocence.

"Y/n." He dipped his head in greetings.

"I see Caleb still keeps you around." You tilted your head.

Because he knows I can keep you tranquil. He wanted to say but opted not to. "I'm the only one who can make a dirty cocktail." He lets out nervously.

"That you can, sweetie. Though I'm more in the mood for something sweet tonight, like you." You poke his sternum. Your sweet angelic laughter unsettles him, but he laughs along with you. Knowing Caleb would have his soul again if he made you angry.

"Perhaps a living soul?" He offered with a timid smile.

"Hell no, Lucifer knows I deal with too many of them back home as it is. Why on earth would I waste my time on one tonight? Though you do have a fair amount of them tonight..." You hum surveying the floor. You turned back to the bar. "How about a slushy, make it strong, and fruity." You order.

"So you're not here to collect a soul?"

"I have other matters to tend to Marcus. I've been getting screwed over you see. My bargain with your showman has not been followed down to the last letter, and I am not happy Marcus." You sigh. "I mean how stupid does Caleb peg me? Stealing souls from me." Your laughter darkens with every word that escapes you. "I am a woman of business, and I don't see my need to be tethered to one so insidious. You understand, Marcus?"

Marcus nods furiously. "Where's Willie? As of now, he's my new eyes and ears. Caleb still has his soul right? Of course, he does that's how he controls you all. If this gets out to Caleb sweetie, I'll be the one to devour that pure soul of yours." You raise a brow in question gesturing to his chest. Marcus nods and snaps his fingers. Your requested drink appearing before you. You raised the glass to your lips and let your shoulders drop. "This is why I love you, Marcus."

"Am I no longer your eyes and ears?"

"No." You could see Marcus's disappointment flash in his eyes. "You've been upgraded to my personal assistant."

Marcus felt honored. "Oh wow. Does this mean I don't have to be behind the bar anymore?"

"Only when we come to the club, but other than that..." You snap your fingers nonchalantly. Caleb's stupid stamp floated off of Marcus's wrist. The poor man looked as though he'd cry.

He did.

"Consider it a gift, sweetie. That's all you're gonna get...really." You shrug. You didn't like getting too sentimental with others. Marcus palmed his mouth. Covering it to muffle his cries. You looked around hopefully no one was watching the scene unfold before you. You shrink in your stool and take another sip of your drink. You took another gulp of your drink, enjoying the flavor it had, it was indeed what you had asked for.

"Marcus." You called his name softly when the tears finally stopped flowing. "Look at me." Marcus's head raised and eyes widened with fear once again. "Stop, please."

"S-Sorry. I'm good, I'm good." You nodded with him, your eyes widened with concern. "Thank you..." He muttered softly.

"Sure." You laughed out nervously wanting his hands off you. “Marcus.” You spoke sternly this time which brought him to pay attention and made him stop touching you. “How about another drink, yeah.” You shifted the mood, hoping to reassure him by taking his mind off of being freed by you. "Surprise me this time."

"Yes- Yes, right away." He composed himself as best he could and began to make your new drink.

Luke's gaze was fixated on the bartender's shaky hands, having caught the last of your conversation with him before he grew close. It was something that caught his attention to no end. A burning hole in his brain as he wondered why you had such an effect on people, good and bad. He wanted to know more about you. So he sat on the stool right beside you.

He turned towards you; his hands were resting on the counter, as he tapped along to the melody playing throughout the club. Luke's gaze met yours, raising a brow as he took notice that you were eyeing him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he hid that fact with an amused smirk.

"Nice shoes." His grin brightened. "I'm more of a vans guy myself but I think it's time I make a drastic brand change." Luke turned in the stool, next to the very pretty girl, who looked completely out of place. Your leather jacket and dark blue denim, not to mention your incredibly red shoes, didn't fit the club's dress code.

You peered over the glass in your hand. Your eyes narrowed curiously at the curly-haired stranger who unashamedly sat in the vacant seat next to yours. Surely he had to be pulling your hair. When you saw no falter in his charming smile, you played along. Hoping to amuse the poor lad unaware of the person you were, of your identity. Most would cower at the sight of you but his lack of knowledge told you all you needed to. He was clueless...and a pretty sight. You set your drink down and smirk, turning your full self towards him.

"Thanks. I had them dyed with the blood of the damned." You stuck your leg out, tilting your head in admiration of your shoes.

Your brows pinched closer together upon his laugh. You were confused by his reaction, what had been so funny? You were being your most sincere.

He snickered again, trying hard not to laugh, in fear of offending you. He let out another brief laugh, trying his best not to lose it. It was the way your words so casually rolled off your tongue that got him. He smirked. "Damned you say. Does that mean that you had to damn them yourself or were they already damned and you just decided to take advantage of the opportunity." He joked around, though curiosity filled his mind as he wondered what your answer would be. He sure wasn't expecting your sweet angelic tune that escaped you as a response. Your head fell back. Marcus stilled, looking at the new stranger who caused such a reaction from you and then at you. Was this a stroke you were having and he was completely unaware? He opted to join in, his fake laughs weren't noticed by you luckily.

He eyed Luke as though he put the moon in the sky. He got you to laugh. Completely unheard of.

Luke felt satisfied. His grin widened as he softly joined in on your bubbled display of joy. "I mean they do make killer shoes. I kind of want some now." He shrugged with half interest.

Marcus finally released a stifled laugh. The poor man was holding it in, not knowing where you two would take the conversation. "I can't say I've ever had the urge to wear shoes made of human blood," He spoke in an attempt to keep the energy at bay.

"Well," Luke started, "they're rather fashionable, right? I mean, I know leather clothing is still in style, you're perfectly on top of that trend already." He joked back casually. You felt something strange in your chest as he raked his eyes up and down your entirety. "All I'd be missing is the shoes..." He bit his lip.

"Yeah?" You looked back at him amused. "You want a pair?"

"Why not?" He entertained the idea.

"What is happening?" Marcus mouthed in shock.

What was happening indeed? Didn't he know who you were? His lack of fear was the most shocking part of this whole interaction. Surely he wasn't one of Caleb's newest edition of collected ghosts. Another soul he had taken, or made Willie lure him in to take it while he's blindsighted by the pretty picture Caleb paints for him. For once you wanted to lay your claim on a soul. To rub it in Caleb's face for stealing your portion of the bargain. You extended your hand out to him and asked him what any wise girl would do. You asked for his name.

"I'm Luke." He took your hand gently. Unaware of the marking you placed under his skin. Your bargains, your markings, were more subtle than Caleb's, where he wanted to show them off, you kept yours hidden behind a mere handshake. Along with the idea of never actually telling them you had done so.

"Pleasure." Your grip on his hand remained firm and tight as your eyes searched his own. You could already envision Caleb brewing with envy once he sees you and Luke engaging in a friendly, and dare you say romantic conversation. Luke didn't appear to know the full truth of what was going on. He appeared to be so blindly curious and unaware. So you went ahead and lit a spark to that curiosity as you pressed a finger to the back of his hand, caressing the length of it.

"Luke," you said slowly, testing it out. The name sounded nice; it rolled off your tongue perfectly. Luke, Luke, Luke. He would be your plaything for tonight, perhaps another time as well should you choose to extend that privilege. You felt a tinge of regret for marking a soul as pure as his, you could feel his warmth the second he sat down, but that was soon washed away with his charming grin; it made you want to make him break his moral barriers all the more. He seemed so different from the others, he was your next perfect leverage on Caleb. "I'm Y/n." You leaned forward, Luke's eyes falling in a daze at your sultry voice and doe eyes.

"Y/n..." He breathed out, mesmerized.

"Marcus I want a private space." You turned to the poor lad who was still stunned that this one guy alone was able to sweeten you down like honey. Get on your good side in the blink of an eye. "Now!"

Willie had paced back and forth, going over what he would say to Caleb as he waited for him at the bottom steps of his dressing room. When the man of the hour finally descended the steps Willied perked up.

"Oh hey um, Caleb." He smiled. "I brought those ghosts I met, um it's still cool they're here right?"

"Of course William! I even reserved a special table for them." Caleb shrugged him off nonchalantly.

"Woah! Uh alright, um thank you!" Willie reeled back, not expecting him to do something so nice.

"No, no, thank you!" Caleb sipped at his tea and watched as Willie made his way to leave but turned the wrong way.

"That way!" Willie laughed as he turned to go in the right direction this time.

"Hey William, while I have you here. Make sure to let me know when Y/n has arrived. I need a least half an hour to ready myself before her arrival."

"Oh, Y/n? She's already here." Willie shook his head confused, hadn't he known?

Certainly not, it appeared.

"What!" Caleb screeched, making Willie to flinch. The cup in his hands clattered onto the steps. Willie shrunk in on himself as Caleb berated him. "You useless monkey, why do I even keep you around? Oh my god, I'm not even dressed. Quick go make sure she gets everything she wants. Hopefully not my soul...Whatever she wants give it to her. A lifer's soul, it's hers. I don't care. I need to go look presentable. Go!" Willie straightened out as he walked away from Caleb's dressing room with haste. Caleb ordered staff to make sure you remained in a good mood. He was late, you had been earlier than expected and he was about to lose his shit.

When Caleb dispersed from the dancers and band, you had rolled your eyes as he made his entrance past the golden curtain.

He gulped nervously when his eyes danced back and forth between you sitting back on the sofa, and Luke kissing down your neck like a lovesick puppy. You hadn't stopped his attack on your skin. Caleb straightened out, clearly his throat to make his presence known.

"I don't like being kept waiting, Caleb, I have better things to do." Your voice broke in soft breaths as Luke found your sweet spot.

"Y/n, nice to have you back my sweet. We've missed your presence at the club and I-"

"Don't patronize me, ghost." You rolled your head back against the cushion.

"Ah, I see you've found our special guest of the night." He laughed nervously. "Have we bored you already, the night has only just begun." Caleb was thankful he didn't have to find you in a much more compromising situation. As he watched your hand run through Luke’s hair, a pang of emotion rose in him, jealousy? Anger? Regret? He felt his emotions bubble over as he watched Luke's lips meet your collarbones, his hands running down your back to your waist. Caleb bit his lip to keep an audible curse from escaping his lips.

You smirked, he was lucky that Luke wasn't getting too ahead of himself, but seeing how things were playing out at the moment it wouldn't take much for Luke to slip. Your attention turned back to him once Luke's lips had moved elsewhere on your body.

"Caleb, how stupid do you think I am?" Your question had caught him off guard.

He was speechless for a few moments before he regained his composure. He laughed a bit in your face. "Y/n, it's obvious," He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "He's a soul I promise to you in our deal. I got two more waiting on you out on the floor."

Luke's head dropped lower to your chest, his kisses stooping lower down your blouse. Caleb's eyes narrowed at the sight.

"Luke's already mine." You sigh in contentment. "I meant about the souls you’re taking for yourself, Caleb."

"What of them?" Caleb's face remained emotionless. He kept his arms crossed while your head was nuzzled into Luke's neck, you were barely holding on to the conversation while your chest had been preoccupied with Luke's hot breaths. His hands slide up and down your body.

"You can't even deny you've broken our bargain." You reminded him, your mind clouded with the sensation of his kisses. "You know what happens when people cross me, Caleb." You giggled as your breath hitched with every word spoken. You placed a hand over Luke's curls to stop him from continuing his kisses down your torso, his lips rested on your chest instead.

"Surely, we can work something out." He begins softly.

"I don't think so." You spoke plainly, your eyes finally focusing on Caleb. Your hands placed on the back of the sofa, you were feeling a bit confident and sassy, something Caleb hadn't seen for a good while, not with him at least. You sit up causing Luke to fall off you. You grip his chin gently and turn his face towards Caleb. You watch as the ghost shrinks back into the shell of the man that he is as Luke's gorgeous brown eyes flash red at him.

You staked your claim on him. "You touch the other two, and this all goes away." You gesture to the room, to the entirety of the club. "I’m going to need Willie's soul by the strike of midnight. Poor thing needs a break from you seeing as you can't do your job properly. He's mine until I say so. You understand, Caleb." You recline back into the cushion.

"Yes ma'am." He nods, feeling like a child being scolded.

"You can see yourself out now. It's like you said; the night is only getting started." Your angelic laugh is one for his nightmares. Not to mention your red eyes. You hold his gaze as you push down on Luke's curls, his body sinking to the carpet before you. "You might not want to stay around for this next part Caleb. Wouldn't want to traumatize you as it is." Caleb gasps and turns in place of the sound of your zipper being pulled.

Caleb's jaw went slack. His head tilted to the side. He tried hard to hide his surprise, but he wasn't sure what he should have said in this occurrence. "Right… I will be leaving. Enjoy yourselves." He uttered stiffly. Caleb retreated out of the room.

Luke's warm hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them slightly. His lips moved back up to your neck. His fingertips trailed lightly along your collarbone, his breath hot, you could feel his blood rushing. Once you were sure Caleb was out of earshot you pulled Luke up by the collar of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" Luke's dazed-out look had you feeling a smidge of guilt. "I thought we were having fun?" He breathed out a laugh as he tried to lean in to kiss you.

"It's not that kind of business, baby. Another time." You gripped his chin and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x fem!reader #jatp luke patterson imagine #jatp x reader #jatp imagines #my gif #writings by juls

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kennahjune · 6 months

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Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

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jaeeyaaasworld · 1 month

Text

Brother's Best Friend - MS47

Featuring: Mick Schumacher x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an awful date, Mick is really a sweetheart and a desperate mess, a bit smutty at the end to MDNI

Requested: Yes/No

"are you really going on a date with him?"

Esteban, your brother asks you, as you're sitting across from him and his best friend Mick.

"I mean- yeah, why would I not? he seems gentle"

you say, shrugging your shoulders as you placed a piece of tangerine, that Mick peeled for you, in your mouth.

"gentle doesn't mean that he's for sure not a predator"

Esteban remarked, making Mick snort and you sigh.

"come on, Estie. if I don't put myself out there I won't have any friends apart from you two"

you said, taking another piece of tangerine in your mouth as Mick gasped.

"what's wrong with us?"

he asked offended, making you chuckle.

"you have your own group of friends and some of them still treat me like a child, I hate it"

Mick and Esteban exchanged a look and shrugged, getting back to the conversation that they were having before regarding Mick's new motorcycle.

time skip

you should have listened to your brother.

this guy was a freak, within the first few minutes of the date you already wanted to leave and never look back again.

he was talking all about himself and the way he was an amazing guy and how all his exes are still in love with him, his ego obviously too big for his own stature.

as soon as you could you ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and hurriedly taking your phone out to dial Esteban's number.

"come on, pick up pick up"

you whispered under your breath, praying for your brother to pick up quickly.

your brother though, didn't seem to pay much attention to his phone.

so your only hope was one guy: Mick Schumacher.

you pressed his name in your contacts, not really expecting him to pick up any time soon, knowing that probably he was hanging out with some of his friends right now.

but to your surprise, Mick picked up really quickly,

"hey, sweetheart. is something wrong?"

he asks immediately, knowing that you were actually supposed to be on your date, which made him worry a lot more then he himself expected.

the voices in the background of his part of the phone call made you stop; he was really with his friends.

"oh, you're busy right now? o-okay, I can try calling Esteb-"

"no no, tell me, sweetheart. I'm all yours, what do you need?"

he interrupted you, as you heard a door closing from his side of the call.

"alright, you were right, he is a freak. can you come pick me up?"

you asked softly, despising the fact that you were actually saying that he and your brother were right.

"for sure, give me the address of the restaurant and in five minutes I'll be there"

he says, hanging up quickly to get on his helmet and place his spare one on his elbow, speed walking towards his motorcycle in his friend's driveway, while his phone dinged with your message with the address of the restaurant you were in.

while he was getting out of his parking spot, you took in a big breath and got out of the bathroom, knowing that it was just a matter of time since Mick was here to pick you up.

you sat back down on your seat, a fake smile on your face to not make it look like you were trying to run away as quick as possible.

time skip

fifteen minutes have passed since your call with Mick happened and you were waiting for him for arrive any minute.

you really hoped that he didn't make a big scene with the guy because of his public figure and for your own embarrassment.

the guy kept talking about how he got a promotion the other day at work and you kept nodding mindlessly while throwing glances at the restaurant doors.

before he could finish what he was saying a man wearing an helmet and with another helmet in his hand walked in through the restaurant doors, his head going left and right to search for someone through the tables.

you quickly recognized Mick physique and the familiar helmet as he finally found you on the far right table, he pulled up the helmet visor and did a bee line through the tables to get to your table.

he gave you the spare helmet that was in his hand and nodded his head towards the door.

"let's go"

his voice was a bit muffled from the big helmet around his head but you could understand perfectly what he wanted.

you got up to follow him out, but your date got up with you and took your wrist to keep you with him.

"are you gonna go with him? you don't even-"

he couldn't finish his sentence as Mick walked towards him, narrowed eyes only a few inches away from the man's face, making him let go immediately.

Mick didn't even need to say anything to him to make him let go, taking your hand in his and gently guiding you outside of the restaurant and towards his bike.

he placed his spare helmet on your head, pushing it down and closing the strap under the helmet for you.

Mick quickly got on the motorcycle, giving you his hand to help you get on the bike behind him.

as soon as you got on, he turned the bike on and started riding the bike out of the restaurant parking lot and towards his house.

he wasn't gonna leave you alone after another bad date, he knew how you felt guilty everytime something went bad and him or Esteban had to come rescue you from the shitty situation you got yourself in.

he stopped at the red light right before his house, he straighted his back, his arms stretching to reach your exposed legs to rub them up and down.

his hands could feel the goosebumps on your skin from the cold breeze that was hitting your skin on the motorcycle.

what he didn't know was that part of that goosebumps on your skin were caused by his hands on your bare legs, how his fingertips felt on your skin and how his big hand could circle your whole leg easily.

but soon the light turned green, making his hands leave your skin to get back to riding with both his hands.

he parked the motorcycle inside his garage, giving you his hand again to help you get off his bike this time, getting off right after you.

you took off his spare helmet, looking at him apologetically as he got out of his own helmet.

"I'm so sorry"

you start.

"I know, I keep doing this and I probably should just suck it up for one night and let you guys be-"

Mick stopped you before you could get too deep into your thoughs, placing an hand up and making you shut up immediately.

"let's get inside first, then you can say all the bullshit you want"

he said, his harshness almost shocking you, as he gestured for you to walk up the stairs that took you into his house.

you walked up the stairs in front of him, walking into his house and getting into the kitchen to place his spare helmet on one of the stools that circled the island in his kitchen.

he got in and sighed while placing his helmet and his protective jacket on the couch, turning towards you and placing his hands on his hips as soon as he was done throwing his stuff on the couch.

"illuminate me, what were you saying?"

you gulped as he looked at you with that intimidating stare of his that you really hoped you never saw directed at you.

"I was saying... I really should suck it up for one night and let you guys be, I'm sure you were with your friends and I disturbed you and I'm sure Esteban is with his girlfriend and I called him out of the blue and-"

you started overthinking, gesturing around with your hands and stuttering sometimes, but Mick interrupted you.

"you know, Y/n... you're right, I was with my friends. but as soon as I got your call I ditched everyone and ran to you"

he started walking towards you, getting so close that you could feel his breath on your face and the smell of his cologne was as strong as ever.

"you know what that means?"

he asked, caging you with his arms on either side of your waist, both hands resting on the island behind you.

"what does that mean?"

you ask, big eyes staring up at him, he felt like he couldn't resist any longer, he couldn't keep it in himself any longer, he felt like if he didn't touch you in the next five seconds he would die.

but he tried to keep his hands to himself, couldn't risk to get the most precious girl on the planet get uncomfortable because of him.

"that I'm so whipped for you. so whipped that I would leave the most important meeting of my whole career if it meant saving you from a freak and having you safe at home by my side, so whipped that I would ditch any woman on the planet to be with you any second of my life"

he started whispering, his hands finally making contact with your waist, rubbing your waist softly over the cute blouse that you put on for that freak you were going on a date with.

"I knew I was done for the moment you walked into my life with that little smile of yours and those sweet hands that love to rub my shoulders whenever I am sitting on a chair, I wanted to learn everything about you and I finally did it. I know everything you like, everything you dislike. Y/n, I know everything"

Mick continued, his arms getting you up to sit on the island of his kitchen, his body placing between your thighs as his hands placed themselves on the bare skin of your thighs.

"apart from your sexual likings, obviously, but I promise I'm a fast learned. I would do anything you ask me to, destroy anything that annoys you. I would set the world on fire just for you"

he said, one hand rubbing from your thigh to your jaw and the other rubbed over your leg, reaching right before your knee to pull you in towards his body.

"why can't you see it, Y/n? I could be perfect for you"

Mick finished, his lips ghosting on yours, almost touching.

but Mick took your silence as a 'no', as he was preparing himself mentally to put space between you two and probably not feel any of your skin on his anymore.

what he didn't expect was you pulling him in by his collar, smashing your lips with his in an heated kiss.

his hands started roaming your body before he could even think about what was happening and you were already pulling his body as close as possible to yours.

one of your hands was on his chest while the other was in his hair, messing them up so good that he didn't want to fix them ever again, as if he found his favorite hairstyle.

you didn't waste time as you hopped off the kitchen island to slowly push him towards his couch, your lips never leaving one another.

you pushed him to sit on the couch as you pulled your blouse off, leaving you in your skirt and lace bra.

his mouth opened in disbelief, his bulge pretty evident in his jeans.

"I'm so desperate, you can't even imagine"

he whispered, not really to you, but more to himself.

"I can see it, no need to imagine"

you tease, getting closer to him, making his eyebrows furrow as he stared your body down.

"I want to worship you my who-"

he couldn't finish his sentence that his phone started ringing in the pocket of his jeans.

he got his phone out of his pocket and looked at the id, eyes widening slightly as he responded.

"hey, Esteban"

Mick greeted his best friend, trying to not sound like he was about to fuck with his sister.

"hey, have you heard from Y/n? she's at that date and she called me but I was with Flavy and I didn't hear her call"

he started panicking.

you got closer to Mick and got on his lap, your lips finding his neck as he tried to keep his voice steady on the call with your brother.

"uh- yeah, yeah. she's- uh, she's at my house. she's already asleep, she told me she was rea-really tired"

he lied through his teeth as he threw his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"oh- okay. well, I'm coming over tomorrow morning to pick her up-"

Esteban said, but got interrupted by Mick.

"no- I'll... I'll accompany her to your house, it's no problem"

he said, making Esteban frown.

"right... well, okay, have fun kiddos. oh- and make sure you use a condom"

Esteban teased with a chuckle.

"oh, fuck you"

Mick said with a laugh.

"my sister probably will"

Esteban joked, making Mick chuckle and hang up on him.

he turned to you as you looked down at him with a smile.

"where were we?"

Mick asked.

"oh- right, me worshipping you my whole life"

he said, placing his hands on your arms to flip you around on the couch and placing himself between your thighs.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #f1 fluff #mick x reader #mick schumacher #mick imagine #ms47 #mick #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n

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ellecdc · 1 month

Note

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFx4A93R/

Dude in my opinion, the moonwater couple are like tidy couple? Do you get what i mean? Like they will keep everything at their place amd everything clean?

What will be their reaction if reader shows them this video and ask them if they would do the same to reader as a lesson?

It'll be cool if it can be a fic. But idk if your request is open. I just immediately went to this ask without checking it first

omg first of all - fuck that guy fr fr lolllll. Also that is such a sweet headcanon to have about moonwater - what does everyone else think? I totally agree with Regulus being super organized and tidy, but I'm not sure about Remus? Perhaps if he was with Regulus then yes, he'd be pretty tidy.

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has hair ties and bobby pins and wears makeup

It was sort of comical the way that the three of you created some sort of spectrum of tidiness in your relationship.

Regulus was by far the tidiest of the bunch. As a matter of fact, if you didn’t see Regulus haunting the halls of your flat, you’d be hard-pressed to believe another person lived with you at all. He was so tidy, in fact, that he would often follow behind you as you tidied in order to re-tidy, though he never made a big deal about it.

“Don’t worry, mon amour, I’ll handle it. You go sit.”

He was simply just a tidy person – something that likely followed him into adulthood from his home life as a child – and he, as well as you and Remus, readily accepted that.

Remus was less tidy than Regulus but not nearly as liberal as yourself. Sometimes, you’d find Regulus picking up the odd stray half-finished cup of tea, or books that were turned face down and never returned to, but that was roughly the extent of Remus’ mess.

Remus was what you called a piler – he had various piles of things throughout your shared home that may look random or out of place to the layperson but seemed to be the pique of organization in Remus’ mind. He was also the kind of person who would clean as he cooked and wouldn’t sit down to eat until the kitchen was cleaned up behind him.

Couldn’t be you, however.

You were sure you seemed like chaos personified compared to your two boyfriends, always leaving a ‘trail of destruction’ behind you as Regulus once (lovingly) referred to it as. There was evidence of you everywhere – hair ties, bobby pins, half-finished drinks, books, magazines, and the likes. No one would have to wonder if you were home from work, seeing as your shoes were hastily tossed aside, your keys thrown onto the console table rather than hanging in their rightful place, your bag hung over the back of a chair, and your hair tie sitting on the kitchen table – all screaming “your girlfriend’s home!”

And though your boyfriends have occasionally taken the piss for your untidiness, it had never escalated to anything more than a “hey dove, can you come rinse your paint brushes that you’ve left in the sink” or a “amour, I don’t know where your makeup goes, can you come put this away?”

So, when you saw this video on Tiktok, you couldn’t help but ask them if they’d ever consider doing this to you to teach you a lesson.

“‘Teach you a lesson’!?” Regulus repeated incredulously, already looking horrified and you hadn’t even shown him the video yet.

“Why…why does he have a hammer?” Remus asked cautiously.

Suffice it to say, the boys did not like the video.

“I’m not watching this.” Regulus spat and stood from his spot on the couch next to Remus rather abruptly. You momentarily felt bad for showing it to him, knowing that signs of even mild aggression like this could be triggering to someone who grew up in a tense household, but felt better when he turned to glower darkly at you, knowing then that his ire was only half-hearted.

“Dovey,” Remus pleaded, his face looking horrified as he watched the man smash his girlfriend’s makeup. “Why…oh my god. If I ever do something like that to you, you fucking leave my arse, alright? Punch me right in the face whilst you’re at it, too.”

“Not me.” Regulus added, not making it very far after refusing to watch the video and leaning against the back of the couch to continue watching it over Remus’ shoulder. “Just kill me; put me right out of my misery if I insist on being such a miserable wanker.”

You snorted a laugh as both boys scoffed derisively at the “I heart you” written on the mirror, Regulus looking thoroughly disgusted and Remus still seemingly horrified.

“Oh, he loves her. I guess that makes it alright then.” He muttered sarcastically. “What’s this woman’s address? Tell her we’re sending her a gift card to…. what’s the store that you like?”

“Sephora.”

“Sephora; tell her we’re sending her a gift card to Sephora.”

You chuckled and leaned further into Remus’ shoulder. “You have to keep watching, he says he’s going to take her shopping for all new stuff after.”

This caused a pained groan to rip through Regulus’ throat as he began muttering angrily in French and finally wandering away. “Idiot absolu. On dit que ce n'est pas tous les hommes, mais il y a des hommes comme ça. Je ne peux même pas les appeler des hommes, plutôt des putains de bambins.”

“Why would you show me this?” Remus turned to look at you, his bottom lip jutting out comically. “This is making me so sad.”

“I wanted to know if you would resort to something like this because of my mess!” You defended.

“Oh, dove. You’re not messy, you’re just not as tidy as Mr. Clean-Freak over there.” He motioned towards the direction Regulus had gone with his head earning him a “you watch yourself monsieur les tas” from his boyfriend’s disembodied voice.

Remus pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and only broke away because he couldn’t stop smiling. “I would clean up after you for the rest of my life if it meant getting to keep you around.” He said proudly, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

“Remus.” You moaned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “So, you wouldn’t ruin my makeup for leaving it out?”

Remus scoffed and turned back to his book. “Not in a million years.”

“Come on amour! Get your jacket, we’re leaving.” Regulus called to you from the door. You could hear him jingling his car keys.

“Where are we going?” You called back.

“Sephora. I have to buy someone makeup now. If I can’t send some to the internet girl, I may as well spoil my own.”

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Keep me Close

Past Jules Bianchi x reader, platonic Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: angst

Request: yepyep finally got me some angst things to write

Summary: Charles's new girlfriend can't understand why he's so attached to the reader

Warnings: talks of death, name calling, a table gets flipped

Notes: I definitely didn't cry writing this at one point. Also, no hate to Alex!! I know hardly anything about her, but I know her and Charles are currently together, and it fits the Timeline, so please bear with me.

Masterlist

Your love for Jules was something you find in fairy tales. It was beautiful, and both of you felt connected on a level deeper than anything imaginable.

It started when you were both merely kids. You were six, and he was eight. The two of you had met at the wedding of a mutual friend. Dressed in nice clothing, he'd marched right up to you and claimed to be a knight looking for a princess.

You were inseparable after that. It was like you'd found your soulmate.

When you turned eighteen, Jules had immediately proposed. And when you countered by asking if you were both too young, he said, 'Why waste time when I know I'll love you forever?'"

You'd gotten close with Leclerc family. Specifically with Charles since Jules was named godfather. He spent a great deal of time with you and Jules.

Then 2014. Everyone was sure Jules was going to get a seat with Ferrari. It would be a crime if he didn't.

You remember kissing him, good luck. The last feeling of his lips on your before getting in the car.

You remember telling him to be safe with the rain; that you love him dearly. He replied with his signature wink and an 'I love you more and I always am.'

Then everything stopped. The world seemed to no longer spin. Time refused to move forward as you willed it to go back.

It couldn't be real. There was no way it had happened. You still thought that as you sat at his bedside faithfully for months. There wasn't a world you wanted to live in if it didn't have Jules.

Charles was similarly devastated. He'd lost someone dear to him. The boy spent all his free time sitting with you in the hospital. Even bringing around food that Pascale had made to keep you alive. Something you didn't want to be at that moment.

The bond you'd formed with Charles during this time is hard to explain. There is nothing romantic. He's family despite the age gap not being that large.

He was, and is still, family. You'd promised to still take care of him despite the loss of Jules, and he promised to do the same in his stead.

The start of the 2024bseason brings on an interesting turn of events. Charles had split with his girlfriend before the new year and is now with his new girlfriend Alex.

You like her. She's very sweet as far as you've been told. But there is something there that makes you worry. You just blame the fact that you want the best for Charles.

The first time you met her was at a family dinner. Charles brought Alex with him to introduce her to everyone.

You were actually the first person he introduced her to. You felt honored, but there was something behind her eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. But you kept it to yourself and made friendly conversation.

The next time you saw her was when she dropped by the Leclerc family home unannounced. The position she caught you in wasn't a bad one, but it probably didn't look good to her.

Charles had a rough race in Monaco, as per usual, and was laying with his head in your lap while you ran fingers through his hair. It's the same thing Jules had done when Charles was a child after a bad Karting race.

Alex definitely didn't look pleased with you. But she managed to put kn a smile and say hello.

It was awkward. Especially after Charles and her went into another room because you could hear them talking in hushed whispers.

Your fingers find the chain with your wedding ring on it. Your lips press against the cold metal as you hold the ring to your mouth. "I hope I'm doing this right, Jules. It's hard without you here."

The last time you saw Alex was at a birthday party. Your birthday party. Something you don't like having after Jules because he was the one who always made the day special.

Charles is a stubborn man though and decided it was necessary. Partly because this is his way of remembering that you are alive and with them, but it also gives him and excuse to drink and dance.

It wasn't anything massive. Or at least - not a massive as it could have been. There were a good number of people crowded into your Monaco home. The food is good, and the music is better. It definitely felt like a party Jules would have dragged you to in your youth.

It's not long until Charles appears at the door with Alex in tow. He comes to you, and you embrace him as usual. The smile on his face makes everything worth it. despite having to deal with a party for a few hours.

Pierre also finds you and starts up conversation. The three of you fail to notice the fourth becoming increasingly agitated.

A loud crashing sound pulls all of their attention. Alex flipped over the table in her agitation and is now sending chills down your spine with the look on her face.

"Why are you so determined to be some kind of homewrecker! Why can't you just stop being a creep to Charles and let us live in peace!" She screams. It hits your mind like a shadow. The world fades away, and your thoughts are filled with the doubts you have daily.

Tears fill your eyes, and your body goes rigid. "I'm Charles' godmother. Y/N Bianchi. I am no homewrecker." You choke.

Charles and Pierre take a protective step in front of you. "Get out!" Charles' voice drips with venom. Alex looks stunned. She doesn't move even as Charles shouts at her. "Nobody gets to speak like that to my family! Get out!"

Then she runs. Avoiding the gazes of disapproval.

Charles spins around and places his hands on your shoulders. His eyes scanning your face to assess the damage.

"I'm so sorry that happened. You're amazing. Always have been. And anyone who says differently is a fucking asshole."

Even through the tears, she smiles. Jules couldn't have left her in better hands.

1K notes · View notes

rotten1angel · 3 months

Text

slytherin sweetheart. / s. black

sirius black x fem!malfoy!reader

5.7k words

summary — james and sirius see if sirius can break the slytherin ice queen’s shell for a prank – but it leads to much more.

authors note & warnings — borderline inspired by 10 things i hate about you, shit proofreading, underage drinking, forms of child neglect and abuse, lmk anything else!

—

(y/n) malfoy was an ice queen, a rich and powerful pureblood princess, older twin sister of lucius malfoy. because of that fact, the marauders, particularly james potter and sirius black thought to see whether sirius “the flirt” black could get her to swoon, to get you to swoon.

you walked through the halls, a permanent glare and wicked smile duo on your face as you walked in line with your brother. other slytherins walked behind you two, following like dogs behind the malfoy twins. building up to 6th year, your brother had built up a rather cruel reputation, and you always beside him, lumped you into said reputation. first and second years cowered at the sight of the two of you. and you also seemed to be a target of numerous pranks orchestrated by four gryffindors in your year.

those four gryffindors were now sneering at the gaggle of slytherins walking into the dining hall, including you and your brother.

“we gotta do something about them.” sirius starts, “all of our pranks don't seem to affect them.”

james forms a wicked grin as a practically visible lightbulb lights over his head. “make her swoon.”

“huh?” is all that stutters out of sirius’s open mouth, “how am i ‘sposed to do that if she hates us?” sirius stares at the bespeckled boy, stating the obvious.

“stop your other dalliances,” earning a scoff from remus, “and focus only on (y/n),” james explains.

“it’ll annoy the shit outta malicious,” james’s nickname for lucius, “and then just leave.”

a twinning grin makes its way to sirius’s face as peter shrinks into himself and remus sighs in disapproval, but when have they ever listened to him?

you practically hear hisses from your table right before feeling a body slide in next to yours on the bench. you turn your head, tossing your hair over your shoulder to find the outcasted black sitting beside you. you raise a single brow at him, a small scowl on your face.

“hey there, sweetheart.” you could feel lucius’ glare from across the table.

“don’t sweetheart me, black.” you respond, taking a sip of water from your goblet.

“what are you doing here?” lucius’ cruel voice spits at the raven-haired boy.

“just trying to get to know your sister here, malicious.” you have to stifle the laugh creeping up from your chest at the nickname. your brother turns to glare at you as sirius’ lips quirk up at your show of humanity.

“pick you up friday then?” sirius quips.

‘yeah, sure black.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“i’ll be in the common room.” you say to your brother as you get up, fixing your already shortened skirt and leaving your half finished plate on the grand table as you walk past the curly haired boy, your walk as poised as ever. sirius leaves the slytherin table to prance back to his own, “phase one is in action.”

the next few days sirius smiles at you in your shared classes, offers to help you in potions (though you’re the one who ends up helping him), even offering to walk you to your classes and carry your books, all leading up to friday.

you do not know why he seems to like you all of a sudden, but it is nice to be liked.

friday arrives, classes are over, accompanied by all of sirius’ courting gestures. you’re getting ready with your dormmates, narcissa, who your brother has taken quite a liking to, and bellatrix, to go to a ravenclaw house party, and while it is a house party, plenty of ravenclaws had invited 90 percent of the 5th, 6th and 7th year students, so it was practically come one, come all. you had been putting on the finishing touches, some blood red dangly earrings and a matching necklace. adorned in those jewels and a black mini dress and black heels you headed down to the common room. a knock on the door interrupted the mingling in the slytherin common room, an unusual sound in the dungeons. narcissa moves to open the stone door, surprise coloring her face as she sees the rejected black. you climb the few steps to see what she's gaping at to see the same sight.

sirius black in a black button up, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. at the sight of you his eyes widen slightly before meeting your gaze.

“friday right?”

you gape at him, your dark red lipstick outlining your shock. you cast a glance back at narcissa, who has a teasing look in her eyes, not bothering to look at bella who has a fuming glare at her cousin. you sigh and push black back from the door before following him out, allowing narcissa to close the door behind you, she’ll join you at the party.

“what is this?” you whisper yell at him, though, you're not even near angry, maybe more embarrassment, if that.

“told you i’d pick you up didn't i?” he sallies back at you. you roll your eyes at him before heading out of the dungeons and to ravenclaw tower. sirius follows behind you like a dutiful puppy before catching up to your poised stride.

“you’re lucky it wasn't lucius opening that door, black.” you spare a glance at him as you go through the maze of moving staircases to ravenclaw tower.

“oh what's malicious gonna do?” you let your laugh ring out this time, a heavenly sound to the boy beside you.

“you really shouldn’t call him that,” you glance over at him again, “even if it's true.”

you don't know what's come over you, your hardened, preserved, ‘ice-cold’ heart is being chipped away at by the boy beside you, why are you walking with him? laughing at his jokes about your brother?

you don't see the wondrous gaze sirius gives you when you look forward again, this time at the front of the ravenclaw door. sirius bares you the burden of knocking on the door as he does it himself. you can smell the firewhiskey breath of the boy who opens the door, ushering you and sirius in, eyes following hogwarts’ ‘ice-queen’ who’s arrived with sirius ‘the flirt’ black.

the sconces and candles lighting the common room have been enchanted to flare blue and purple. drinks cover the tables and drunk bodies grind together in the center of the room.

“well, you picked me up and escorted me to the party, black. that’s more than most men get, i'll see you later.” you leave him, slightly disappointed, with a little wave of your fingers as you take a shot from the table and glide yourself into the sea of bodies.

the party carries on, narcissa and bellatrix arrive. narcissa makes her way to you, no doubt to question what sirius black was doing at the slytherin dungeons, and bellatrix follows her, casting a glare towards sirius.

andromeda, the only black relative who had not hated sirius arrives as well, on the arm of ted tonks, a muggleborn hufflepuff, to sirius’s knowledge. she makes her way to sirius, a curious quirk of her lips clues him in to how this conversation will go.

“so.. provoking even more pureblood families then your own, then, sirius?” she asks in a teasing tone. he scoffs out a laugh.

“‘spose so..” he trails off, his eyes finding your figure as you dance with narcissa, a begrudging bellatrix standing close to the two of you, clearly not wanting to be near any non-purebloods.

“i hope you know what that’ll do to her.” andromeda says to him before walking off with ted on her arm, leaving a disoriented sirius reeling over his older cousin’s words. he feels a strong pat on his back, sending him jolting forward for a minute before turning to see james and remus.

“so how’s the situation with miss ice queen coming along?” james asks, a grin on his lips.

“oh— uh good.. good.” sirius responds, shaking himself out of the trance that andromeda’s comment had him in. remus lifts an eyebrow at him subtly but james steers the two over to the drink table before remus can say anything.

eventually, james gets drunk enough to saunter his way over to lily evans to try and win her heart as he has tried since 1st year.

remus and sirius move to a back wall, but sirius still has a view of you, still only one shot in, still having a grand time with narcissa.

the two boys are silent for a long while and sirius’s eyes find you again, his gaze is sweet, his mind as far from the ‘prank’ this was supposed to be.

“you like her.” remus states, snapping sirius out of his adoring trance.

“what?” sirius implores, whipping his head, curls slapping his face as he turns to look at the lanky boy.

“have you thought about what you might do to her if you just leave her, as james said?” he questions the ravenette.

“w.. well no..” sirius sputters.

“if she does fall for you and you leave her, you will break her heart.” he starts, “lucius knows you're courting her, which he will be able to tell that she has been heartbroken and likely tell his parents. do you understand that?” remus pushes.

sirius stays silent, he doesn't know what to say, or what he's even thinking.

“think about that.” remus states before giving sirius a pat on the shoulder before going to join marlene and mary at the drinks table.

sirius leaves the party early after that, and your eyes watch as he goes.

over the next few days, you and sirius grow closer, opting to sit with him in potions when he offers over your brother. which causes lucius to corner you afterwards, since it is the last lecture of the day. sirius casts you a glance before walking on with his mates.

“what is going on between you two?” his voice has no concern, only barely concealed rage in his hushed tone.

“n..nothing lucius, nothing.” he raises a brow at you, “i'm just having a bit of fun with him..”

“it better be that.” is all he says before he stormed off, a threat unspoken.

your face scrunches in his direction, he had always been on your side, or was it rather you had never deviated from his?

you pulled yourself together swiftly before heading to the dungeons to drop off your stuff. you pick back up only your potions things, stuffing them into a black messenger bag before heading to the black lake where you were supposed to meet sirius to study.

you stride over to where a mess of inky curls sits, a few feet from the lake. you plop your bag down before taking off your cloak, placing it down before sitting on top of it.

“so.. what did your brother want?” sirius asks.

not malicious? you thought.

“oh, nothing..” you say, an uncertain undertone in your voice, sirius picks up on it but doesn't pry. “let’s start with amortentia.”

sirius quirks his brow at you, to which you smile and scoff, “it's the first alphabetically, black.”

you both flip to the page in your potion books but sirius lays his on the ground and looks at you, as you are supposed to be testing him. “what are the ingredients to brew amortentia?”

he thinks for a minute, his eyes on the ground, before meeting your gaze again. “ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, powdered moonstone, peppermint, and pearl dust.” he recites them properly, causing a wistful smile to make its way to your face, “and what are the possible substitutions?”

“refined peppermint oil for peppermint, and mother of pearl for pearl dust,” he answers. a grin breaks out on your face that time, a sight sirius relishes in. you smack his arm lightly, “you know this stuff, black! why are you so clueless in potions?” you question him.

“well how can i focus with you next to me, sweetheart?” he asks as he breaks your gaze to look at the lake, he doesn't see the way you try to contain your smile or the way your cheeks flush. all he hears is your scoff.

you close your potions book and set it on the grass next to you.

“so why ask me to help you study, if i distract you so much?” you tease him, and it gets his heart fluttering.

“well you're hard to get alone, (y/n).”

your lips quirk upwards as he looks back to you.

“james keeps saying how he’ll beat you into the dirt during the quidditch game this saturday, he’s even planned a party for his undetermined victory.” sirius voices.

“undetermined? so you do have some faith in me, sirius.” god, the way his name sounded from your lips.

“if we do win, you’ll come to the party?” he asks, no, pleads.

“so james can rub his win in my face, captain to captain?” you quip.

“for me.” he replies, rousing you to silence, the soft, pleading tone in his voice making your cheeks flush once again.

“I'll come.” you respond, sirius’s eyes widening slightly before a grin breaks out on his face. he then hears james and remus calling him from across the green and swiftly packs up his things and gets up.

“i’ll see you later, sweetheart.” he says before dipping down briefly to kiss your cheek and runs off to his mates, leaving you a flustered mess in peace.

saturday came quick enough, and as the captain of the slytherin team, you bring your all, however when you hear sirius call your name you look up to see a bludger coming for you. thrown off, it hits the front of your broom, missing your body completely but snapping the front of your broom off and spinning it to the ground. you end up a little disheveled, but nothing broken. the game is called off since you have no stand-ins and gryffindor wins with the points they have.

after the game you keep true to your promise to sirius and shower, getting ready for the gryffindor celebratory party. bellatrix eyes you from her bed, fury behind her dark eyes. narcissa and andromeda help you get ready, however, curling your hair for you and getting your jewelry out. you decide on a dark red long sleeve dress, fitting your body perfectly. black heeled boots and a black headband, along with your blood red earrings and necklace complete your look. you kiss andromeda and narcissa on the cheek, leaving lip prints on each of their faces before heading to gryffindor tower.

you knock on the edge of the painting, careful not to mess with the fat lady, she ushers out a ‘thank you, dear’ before a younger boy, probably a 4th year, opens the door.

“what do you want, snake?” you're thrown off by the comment, used to people being afraid to look in your direction, since when have you become soft enough for others to notice?

sirius shoves past the boy, knocking him into the wall as he grins down at you, you give him a small smile in return, “you came.”

“promised i would.” you respond as he offers his hand and you take it. he admires the red dress that adorns your figure.

“suitable dress for the house who won,” james saunters around the corner, already tipsy, “only by default.” you quip back at him, he’s definitely less hostile to you now, but whether that's from sirius’s attention or the alcohol, you couldn't say.

when you enter the common room, it's filled with boisterous laughter and celebration, and you can appreciate their enthusiasm. you find the drink table, mainly firewhiskey, a preferred favorite of the gryffindor house. you toss back a few shots, scalding your throat, hopefully to relieve some of the pain from your fall earlier. sirius looks at you with concern.

“i can have fun, black.” you shoot at him and he laughs, “of course, babe.”

your cheeks heat at the nickname, or the alcohol, but you feel your vision haze slightly already. a few more drinks in and you're dancing on the coffee table in front of the fire. gryffindors around you are cheering you on but sirius had lost you in the crowd, he looks for marlene, finding her back by the stairs with dorcas.

“you seen (y/n)?” he asks over the thunder of the crowd, she only points at you and his eyes widen, making her and dorcas laugh. He pushes through the sea of people to get to the edge of the coffee table.

as soon as he does he sees and hears you hit your head on the chandelier floating above you, it throws your drunk body off balance and you stumble until you fall right into him. thankfully, he’s nowhere near as drunk as you are and braces for impact before lifting you off the table and away from the crowd as they continue to carouse.

he sits you on the, thankfully, empty stairs, and marlene and dorcas leave you two be. you cradle your throbbing head in your hand as sirius pushes back the curled strands of your hair falling in your face.

“you need to see madame pomfrey,” he states as you wince as he tries to examine the bump, thankfully no blood.

“no, i’m.. i’m fine.” you falter, your head falling forward slightly but he holds it up.

“stay awake, (y/n).” you only hum in response. he helps you off the stairs, holding you up against his body.

“marlene bring some water to the boys dorms, please.” he shouts over the crowd but sees marlene nod at him and give a thumbs up. he ushers you up to the marauders dorm, placing you gently on his bed, making sure you’re sitting up right. you slouch over into him, your forehead against his chest as he examines the bump on your head more thoroughly. it doesn't look terrible but you did hit it pretty hard. he crouches down to be level with you, your eyes are closed and your jaw is slack, he slaps your face gently.

“hey, hey, (y/n), no, wake up. (y/n), open your eyes!” your eyes flutter open at his voice and you gaze up into his stormy ones. “hey… your eyes have a little blue in them..”

he laughs at your drunk mumble, “right you are, sweetheart.”

marlene comes in with two big glasses of water, placing them on the nightstand beside you and gazing over to you, “feel better, sweetie,” she says before leaving the two of you and closing the door.

you break your gaze to look over at the water on the nightstand and sirius catches your line of sight, grabbing the water and handing it to you. you take generous gulps before taking a breath of air, “water’s good.”

“yeah?” sirius asks you, tucking stray hairs behind your ear. his curiosity can't help but take over him, “why are you so.. closed off?” he utters the words before he can stop his lips.

you explain to him how your parents had conditioned you in the ways of a pureblood wife, silent, poised, cold. How they’d locked you in a closet if you’d talked back. How they conditioned you not to cry.

He knew exactly how you grew up, he grew up the same.

His hand moved from your hair to cradle your cheek. You glanced up at him, seeing the look of understanding and you understood too.

“what a duo we are..” you mumble

“indeed.” he responds.

“i promise i'm here for you..” you mutter.

a comfortable silence overtakes the two of you, you gaze into his stormy eyes, deeper than you’d ever expected. you lean in gently and your eyes flutter close. your lips meet his for a brief second before he pulls back. your eyebrows scrunch as your eyes open again.

“another time..” he mutters out. you back away from him, finishing the glass of water before getting up and storming out of his dorm.

you avoid his gaze in all your classes on monday, opting to sit next to your brother instead during potions, he scowls at you but doesn't refuse you. you feel sirius’ gaze on you but you ignore it. after you get out he follows after you, calling your name. he tugs on your shoulder and you spin around to face him, a scowl on your face. “please, meet me at the lake in 20, please.”

you sigh at him and walk off, no definite answer to give him. 20 minutes pass and you exit the halls of the hogwarts castle, walking into the sun’s rays and onto the green. You spot a familiar raven-haired boy sitting by the lake, the same place you ‘studied.’ you walk over to him, sitting down beside him silently.

“you came,” he says, his tone bordering astonishment as he gazes at you.

“i promised.. i'm here for you.” you answer him.

he smiles at you and you can’t help but return it.

a few weeks pass as the fall bleeds into winter and the yule ball is brought up. you and sirius have begun hanging out practically everyday after potions. his mates, james specifically, have started to notice. when sirius gets back into the dorms — after missing dinner — and he sits his happy ass down on his bunk, james puts down the potions assignment he was attempting to work on.

“what’s with you and (y/n)?” james asks, no hostility in his voice, pure curiosity.

sirius snaps out of his giddy daze quickly, “nothing,” he replies, hesitation dripping from his voice.

“he likes her.” peter squeaks out.

when remus can’t talk about things going on in the group to everyone, he talks to peter about it — the boy’s so quiet anyway. james's eyes widen slightly while sirius’s practically bulge out of his head. he looks accusingly at remus who only throws his hands up in surrender.

“i mean it's fine if you do, sirius, but.. (y/n)?” james utters out, causing sirius to turn to him, a small glare in his eyes at his best friend.

“she’s not what you think she is.” he says coldly.

“hey, i believe you, mate! If you say she’s not a heinous stuck-up bitch, i believe you.” james says with a small smile, causing sirius to throw a dirty quidditch jersey in his general direction, pulling a laugh out of the tan boy.

“does this mean i can talk about her now? cause i've had to keep all my shit to myself and it is hard.” sirius says, getting approvals from his mates before he begins blabbing all about you into the night.

you’re huddled with narcissa and bellatrix in the courtyard when you feel a tap on your shoulder and see bellatrix sneer at whoever is behind you, causing a grin to pull at your lips as you turn to face sirius. bellatrix stomps off and narcissa follows her, but not before giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

“sirius,” you regard him, tucking a loose curl behind his ear, causing his pale cheeks to redden slightly.

“go to the ball with me.” he asks, or rather urges. You let out a soft giggle, “i would love to.”

his face breaks into a grin at your response and he can’t help but cup your cheeks and plant a soft kiss on your lips, the kiss is all smiles and you giggle again when he parts. “you’ve gotta get to class, love,” he whispers.

“so do you..” you respond, but he only tucks a stray hair behind your ear in return and walks off. you have a soft smile on your face as you walk to charms.

unknown to you, your twin was behind one of the stone columns of the courtyard, witnessing your display of affection, and heads to his dorm to write a letter.

weeks pass and the ball creeps up. you’ve been to boutique’s on the higher end of hogsmeade with narcissa and have gotten dresses. narcissa’s a deep envy green, and yours to contrast, a deep red. floor length, the waist line just below your chest and thin straps. matching silk gloves run up your arms and your hair is curled and styled down. you walk down to the dining hall, revamped for the yule ball, with narcissa, her parting from you once she sees lucius, who had asked her. you glance around, not seeing sirius, but you spot marlene, along with dorcas and lily. you hesitantly make your way over to her, stopping a foot away from her. dorcas taps her shoulder and points to you and marlene turns.

“oh, hey doll!” she says before looking over your dress. “god, sirius is gonna lose his mind!” she comments, making you smile.

“you bet he is.” lily laughs out.

“you guys mind if i stay with you till sirius comes?” you ask gingerly.

“not at all, babe!” marlene affirms, they make you feel welcome immediately. the four of you chatter, lily mentioning something about how the boys are late to everything.

dorcas spots james followed by the others and waves him down. he makes his way over, arm circling lily’s waist as he steps up to you four. seems she finally gave in to him.

you turn to spot the other three, a few steps behind and when sirius sees you’re talking with his friends his heart stutters and then swells. He skips over to you, his arm copying james’s action. “amazing dress, love.”

marlene and dorcas simper at him and he gives them a look.

you end up spending most of the night with sirius and his mates, dancing in turn with the girls and your date. a slow song has just finished up and the girls whisk you away once again.

“is sirius good to you, truly?” dorcas asks you, and you smile, “he is, he’s sweet, and funny, and honest..” you say as you feel him creep up behind you leaning over your shoulder, “talkin’ about me, love?”

you roll your eyes at him, your smile widening at his mere presence. james saunters up behind him, throwing an arm around both sirius and you, squeezing himself between the two of you. “crazy how (y/n) got brought into our little group ‘cause of a prank,” james says, and you falter.

“what?” you ask, a confused smile still on your face but is wiped off immediately by james’s next words.

“yeah, near the beginning of the year we thought it’d be fun to crack your shell and get sirius to flirt with you and.. stuff..” james trails off as he catches lily’s glare, along with marlene and dorcas’s tensed faces, and then yours.

it was now silent in the hall to you — the shrieks and laughs of joy from the ball now drowned out. your eyes are glossed over with tears, but you dare not let them spill as you look at sirius accusingly.

“(y/n), listen—” he starts but you storm away, james dropping his arm as you speed out of the hall.

“do you not know when to shut up, james?” marlene whisper yells at him as sirius tries chasing after you.

he runs after you down one of the corridors as you're making your way back to the dungeons, he grabs your wrist, whirling you around. “(y/n), please listen!”

“are you going to deny what james said?” you ask coldly, he hadn't heard your voice like that in months, and it was as if he’d gotten a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on him. “well.. i can't but—”

you break out of his grasp, one tear slipping from the corner of your eye.

“don’t talk to me, black.” you storm off again, leaving him in the middle of the empty corridor.

the rest of the year passes in a blur, you’ve been shunned by your brother, and you were a cold, ice queen again. sitting alone in classes you don’t have with narcissa. you had appointed a new captain for the quidditch team and you quit. you spent your time in your dorm, sometimes by the black lake during quidditch games when you knew sirius couldn’t run off and find you.

and sirius.. he was in shambles, sulking practically the rest of the year.

summer came and you went home, riding in a train compartment with lucius, the silence enveloping the enclosed area was suffocating. you were grateful to finally get back to your manor, until you were stopped by your house elf from entering. your father came to the door, nodding at lucius before turning to you. “i understand you were involved with sirius black and his.. company.”

your heart stops and you nearly drop your luggage. tightening your grip on it, you manage to utter out, “..what?”

“you’ve become a blood traitor, (y/n). this is no longer your home.” and then he shuts the door in your face. a sigh forces its way out of your lungs and suddenly, all the walls and barriers you built around your heart shatter, the dam overflows.

your eyes well with tears and they overflow, the years of holding them back and pushing them down all come to surface. you sob.

only a few minutes later you hear a honk behind you. turning, you see what you're to understand is the knight bus. you take a ragged breath in before straightening your face, still trained to push down feelings. you step onto the bus and the ‘host’ asks where you're headed, “.. the leaky cauldron.” you utter out before sitting on one of the many beds that are not unlike the beds in the hogwarts dorms.

you get there and pay for a room. you stay for a few days, until your pocket money runs out and you have to leave again. you debate going back to malfoy manor for a few minutes before ultimately deciding it wasn’t a smart idea. it’s night again, you're not sure how long it's been since you weren't allowed in your house, you had rarely bathed, the days had turned into blurs.

you step out into the chilly air of london outside the leaky cauldron, your breath forming clouds in front of you. and in a few minutes the knight bus came again. you don't hesitate before stepping on this time. and when the host asks where you’re headed, you reply, “potter manor.” without thinking.

you’d remembered sirius telling you how euphemia, james’s mother, practically adopted him after being kicked out.

it’s only a few minutes before you've arrived. you thank the driver before getting off as it whizzes away again.

you take a few minutes to walk up to the door, and a few more beats to knock lightly on the door. your hear a warm ‘coming!’ from inside before you’re met with the sight of what you believe is james’ mom. her face visibly drops as she sees the state you're in.

“oh dearie, what happened to you?” she asks but you don’t answer as she ushers you in. she sits you at the large dining table as she ushers around the kitchen, she comes back a few minutes later with a steaming cup of vanilla-something tea. you graciously accept the tea, blowing before taking a scalding sip and warming your hands on the cup, your gaze trained down. you freeze as you hear footsteps and familiar voices coming down the stairs. james and sirius turn to see who euphemia’s guest is, only to see your mussed hair and blotchy face. your undereyes are defined in dark circles and swollen. you wipe your nose with the back of your hand as you look down at your lap.

“..(y/n)?” sirius asks, his voice soft.

“you’re the (y/n) sirius hasn't stopped talking about? no wonder you came here dearie.” euphemia says, “you can stay as long as you need, honey.” she says as she gets up, ushering james out of the room, telling him to make up a guest room, ultimately giving you and sirius space.

sirius moves swiftly to crouch beside you, he raises his hand tenderly to cup your jaw before turning you to look at him. “what happened, sweetheart?”

oh, that name.

your eyes well up again, “got kicked out..” you manage a grief-stricken laugh. his thumb swipes across your cheek.

“lucius told my parents about us and,” you hiccup, and continue in a softer voice, “i didn't know where else to go..”

his is hands move to wrap around your body, pulling you into a secure hug. “i’m glad you came, love.”

you bury your face in his shoulder, letting your tears soak his sweater.

he pulls himself away for a moment, running his hand through your hair to push them away from your face. “i swore to myself as soon as i could i’d explain.”

your eyes meet his but you stay silent, too tired to say anything.

“it did start out as a prank, our.. relationship, i will not lie to you, but the first day i talked to you i had already fallen for you. when you tried to stifle your laugh at my name for lucius, i wanted you to laugh at me forever.”

“malicious suits pretty well, though, huh.” you chuckle sadly, you're voice sore from disuse and tears.

“i did truly fall for you, (y/n), none of my actions were ungenuine.” he says as he moves to cup your face again. “please believe me when i say, you will never know how sorry and upset with myself i am for hurting you.”

your swollen, tear-stained face smiled at him. you lifted your hand to tuck a curl behind his ear, “there’s no need to apologize, sirius. I was a bit dramatic..”

“no, you weren’t, love. I should have told you, or just not done it at all.” he vindicates you. “i never want to hurt you again.”

“i trust you, sirius.” you say softly. he looks up into your eyes, his gaze flitting down to your lips briefly. you lean down and kiss him tenderly.

your lips taste of salt and vanilla but he pays no mind. he pulls away before caressing your face once more.

he stands, placing a kiss on the top of your forehead. “let’s get you some sleep, love.”

—

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