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#wedding giveaways
amithafz · 7 months
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DIY Giveaways Using good quality materials || Wedding Favors || Birthday Giveaways || DIY Favors Ideas Shops Sri Lanka prices
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shaadiwish · 2 years
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Check out these luxury and premium brands to consider as wedding gifts this wedding season. For more ideas and trends, stay tuned to ShaadiWish!
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remireee · 1 month
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Thanks so much for replying to my question earlier Remi💖💖 I was wondering if i could request yandere malleus draconia with reader who’s also a dragon fae just like him, however reader prefers to have their horns and tails hidden because they don’t want to attract further attention..i personally just want to see what yandere malleus’ reaction would be to discovering reader’s true form and all (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
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Shock. Utter shock… that slowly melts into a puddle of blissful joy before quickly turning into an array of questions in that little head of his. Like ‘had the love of my life really been right underneath my nose this whole time’? Disappointed that he hadn’t noticed your presence earlier within the walls of the valley (but can you really blame him?).
That is Malleus’ reaction when discovering your true form…
…through his own means.
You see… Malleus is a curious soul, since he never got out much… so, whenever something intrigues him, he has this desire to find out more—to learn and know almost everything about it. This principle applies to his darling as well.
The small pieces of shed skin hiding within the cracks of the wooden flooring of the dorm. Chipped scales shining underneath the moonlight whenever he’d crawl in for his nightly visits. At first, he was skeptical, believing that there was a logical explanation behind all of this; yet the more he looked, the more unlikely it seemed.
His obsession with his darling also means he too is very observant of you. Your mannerisms, etiquette and overall vibe were dead giveaways to your identity as a Fae (being a Fae himself).
If you ever decide to tell him about or even show him your true form (for whatever reason), boy will give you a gentle smile; head tilted to its side, his hands behind his back; before saying ‘I know’. All the while, feeling giddy on the inside because you trusted him enough to tell him such things.
Slender hand taking in yours, softly cupping his cheek with it as he whispers about future arrangements. He originally wanted to teach you the ways of the Fae so you and him wouldn’t have any issues during the wedding he had planned without your consent but now that he knows you you revealed yourself as one of his own that just saved him and you so much time!
…oh, he can’t wait for the both of you to graduate~
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targaryen-dynasty · 1 year
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GUILELESS.
Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader
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The streets of Flea Bottom most definitely were not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out at night, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; CNC, DUB-CON, p in v, roleplay, profanity, tiddy fucking, degrading, punishing, humiliating, public sex, slight oral (m receiving) and overstimulation, blink and you‘ll miss the breeding and size kink, vague description of fem!Martell!Reader (dark hair, dark eyes, small body)
WORDS: 2.6 K
NOTES: Killing two birds with one stone with this thing. Written for this and this request.
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The streets of Flea Bottom were in an uproar with hundreds of gold cloaks roaming around to restore law and order in the foulest and most lawless district of the Westerosi capital. It most definitely was not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.
Your reddish gown had been replaced by the clothes of a boy. A wide, black tunic and gray breeches hid your body, and your long, brown curls were covered by a black cloak. The boots you wore were surprisingly more comfortable than the sandals you wore around court, yet they were not at all appropriate to be paired to the finest, dornish silk you usually donned.
On your way through the dimly lit alleyways, you bumped shoulders with more than one commoner that fled the scene you were too eager to see. Coming closer to the source of the agonizing screams, you stopped just short of the crowd, barely out of the alleyway.
To your left was a pillow house, the ornate lamp of gilded metal and scarlet glass swung over the door casting you in a red light. You tried to move further and squeeze past the wall of curious bystanders, before your wrist was seized by something firm that caused you to gasp.
“A lady like you should be careful wandering the streets alone at such hour,” a deep voice drawled out. As you turned around, you immediately noticed who had you in a tight hold, the long, silver strands of hair peeking from beneath the helmet a dead giveaway–just like the surcoat depicting the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen that none of the other gold cloaks around you wore. Daemon Targaryen, Lord Commander of the City Watch.
You straightened your back, and decided not to show any of your emotions. Especially not the nervousness that soared through your veins. “I shall have you know that I am no lady,” you replied sternly, though there was a slight tremble in your smooth voice, “I am to be a princess soon.”
That seemed to amuse the man, your intimidation tactic clearly not working. “Oh, you most certainly are,” he replied with a mocking tone, “that is why I have found you in Flea Bottom, hm, dressed like what… a little boy?” Now there was a slight hint of uneasiness accompanying his words and presence, which had a shiver running up your spine. “As your princess, I command you to let go of me,” you pressed, trying to tug your arm back – but to no avail.
“You are a feisty little thing,” the gold cloak murmured with a sly smile. “It is a shame you are nothing more than a pretender. You would have made an excellent wife.” He didn’t even allow you to give him a reply, before his hand found the back of your neck to shove you into the pillow house to your left you had examined not long before.
Upon stumbling inside, you noticed that it was no pillow house but a simple brothel instead. Older wenches with more flesh to their hips and a used appearance did not hone the low quality the common room presented itself in. Considering the size of the crowd in front of the etablissement, it was surprising to spot not so many patrons inside.
“I–What–”
“I shall have you punished for those treacherous antics,” he barked, effectively cutting you off. The light tap he gave your rear caught you off guard, however, it was solely a ruse meant to distract you from both his hands grabbing the waistband of your breeches and undergarments to rather forcefully tug them down your body. It was nothing else than luck that the tunic you wore was long enough to cover your cunt for anyone that dared to catch a glimpse.
You gasped, and seized his hand on your hip that threatened to dive forwards between your legs. “My lord,” you protested, pretending that you did not know whose chest was pressed flush to your back, “you should not– I–”
Before you could protest even more, he had hauled you up against the breastplate of his armor, and you could merely look at him from over your shoulder, your dark eyes filled with lust. You started to struggle against his hold, yet his muscular arms snaked around your frame made it obvious you didn't stand a chance.
“Please, no,” you whimpered.
“Silence,” he bellowed, carrying you through the common room of the brothel to an alcove that granted you just some more privacy. While you were dropped unceremoniously on a chaise standing nearby, he brought a large hand up to the back of your neck, applying a good bit of pressure so you were kneeling on the chaise with your arse up and face down.
From behind you, you could hear a satisfied groan, no doubt spotting the glistening shimmer on your cunt from how aroused you were. When his calloused finger dragged through your soaked mound, you could not stifle a moan to leave your lips.
“Please, stop, my lord, I am still a maiden,” you whimpered, trying to get back up only to be pushed down again forceful enough to have you grunting just once. “Stay,” he warned, and you were foolish to not obey his command. You could faintly hear his hands fumbling with the buckles along the breastplate of his armor, your heartbeat pounding in your ears loud enough to almost drown out every other sound, removing them and allowing the steel to fall to the ground – piece after piece following in its wake. “I am betrothed,” you tried to reason.
You gasped as his hand served a firmer slap to your arse this time, the gentle rubbing of his palm not at all mending the stinging pain. “And you still will be once I am done with you,” came his stern reply. He dragged two fingers through your mound, from your entrance to the little bud, retorting to rubbing mindless patterns over it that had you pushing your hips against his fingers for a moment to chase the friction. Despite the moans that left your lips, you tried to snake your hand between your thighs to cover your cunt and arse, but he was quick enough to capture both your hands, bringing them together behind you to pin them to your back with one hand.
The gold cloak was skilled enough to unlace his breeches one-handed, freeing his cock out of its confines. “I shall refrain from spending my seed inside of your cunt for I do not desire to dishonor your betrothed,” he mumbled, his voice taking on a rougher edge.
“Do not do this, please,” you released a shaky breath, and every protest that threatened to follow caught in your throat the moment he dragged the tip of his cock through your swollen folds, resuming the movements he had previously made with his fingers.
The attempt to resist him was cut short when his cock breached your core, pushing into you at a teasingly slow pace that had you drawing in a sharp breath. “Your betrothed might get to breed you, but I took your maidenhead. You do best to remember that when he lays his filthy hands on you,” he groaned. The moment you stretched around him, all you could choke out was ‘yes, yes, yes,’ being in a stupor because of his cock.
With his hand still around your wrists, he pulled you onto his cock until his hips pressed against your rear, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘Gods’ he muttered under his breath didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it appeared that he didn’t know where to place his free hand as it squeezed your arse, tugged on your hair and eventually settled in the curve of your waist.
He pounded into you with reckless abandon, the tip of his cock brushing the spot inside of you that had your vision grow blurry over and over again. With your face pressed into a pillow resting on the chaise, you were not able to spot the feigned anger and jealousy blazing in his eyes. The only thing that made you aware of the amusement he found in that situation was the tone of his husky voice, making it more than clear that he had a smirk on his lips. “When I am done with you,” he rasped, bowing forward to put more of his weight on your small frame beneath his. “You shall desire no one else’s cock but mine.”
“Yes–” he interrupted your answer with a hard, percussive thrust, and then another, and another, until you couldn't focus on anything else but the delicious pressure inside your cunt. You pushed your hips back against him, and he reared up to pull you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfway which resulted in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin bouncing off the walls. The position you were in, with your face pressed into the pillow, granted you some sense of feigned privacy, because otherwise you would have noticed some curious eyes lingering on you two whenever one of the customers or whores decided to prowl the scene unfolding.
“Let’s see how much you desire your betrothed’s cock after this.”
When his hips stilled, and the pleasure in the pit of your belly eased, you propped yourself up on your hands with his vice-like grip suddenly gone. You looked at him from over your shoulder, and if you were not so lost in the sight of him behind you, you would have pouted when he gripped the neckline of your tunic to rip the linen to shreds as if it was nothing, exposing the last bit of your body to the sticky air of the brothel.
His skin was glistening in the dim light the candles granted, small beads of sweat highlighting his muscles. His upper body was defined by numerous cuts and scars, a testament to the dangers he had survived in his short life already. As he glanced down to where his clock disappeared inside of you, strands of his silver hair fell into his face, framing his chiseled features. You were so focused on enjoying the view that you did not immediately catch on to what he had said to you, the words not registering in your mind.
It seemed that his patience was not infinite as he grabbed your waist and hoisted you up as if you weighed nothing, settling you down on the cold floor so you sat on your haunches. He sat down on the chaise with his legs spread, his thick cock flush against his lower stomach, and straining as he leaned back, hands resting on his muscular thighs. You tilted your head, affecting a look of defiance. His eyes flickered over your frame, taking in every exposed inch of skin, and he couldn't help but smirk. “I said I shall not dishonor your betrothed, did I not?” he said, and almost dismissively waved his hand in order for you to continue.
You took that as your cue to use your hands and mouth to coax him towards his peak, however, when you reached to grasp the base of his member, the dragon in front of you merely tsked. Without saying a word, he bowed forwards and brought his paw-like hands to the sides of your breasts, squeezing them together. At the realization of what he had in mind, your eyes widened in surprise, and when he raised an eyebrow with a slight tilt of his head, you knew what was expected of you.
While his hands merely released your breasts to allow you to lean forwards, it was your hand that fisted the base of his cock, still thoroughly lubricated with your arousal. You positioned yourself so his cock rested in the Vale between your breasts, only for him to squeeze them together around it again. “Good girl,“ he praised, and you craned your neck to give a teasing lick along the slit at the tip of his cock, which prompted the prince to take in a sharp breath.
He replied by bucking his hips up, his cock bumping against your slightly parted lips. While he smirked at you in a smug manner, you released a surprised gasp, your eyes flickering between his violet ones and his cock. With his hands on your breasts, he kept them pressed tightly around his member, using the crevice between them to race for completion. You raised and lowered your body in rhythm with his hips, licking and kissing the tip of his cock whenever it came close enough to your lips.
His fingers pinched and brushed the perky buds of your breasts, causing you to release one whimper after the other. It was a titillating sight, watching how your expression shifted to a more focused one as you moved your body for his pleasure, ignoring the throbbing at the apex of your legs as best as you could.
“What an obedient, little wench I have found on the streets of Flea Bottom,” he groaned, his voice raspier, indicating that he was close to reaching his peak. “So willing to please the Lord Commander of the City Watch. Do you like watching me fuck those perfect teats of yours?” You couldn't help but whine, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words like they were the most embarrassing thing you had ever heard. Dornish people were known for their sexual licentiousness, but that man in front of you seemed to top just that.
“Will you claim me, my lord?” you asked, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. But with his peak approaching him rather quickly, the last threads of his patience seemed to snap as he growled a ‘Tis husband for you’ in return, the thoughts of your well-schemed ploy long forgotten at the aspect of spending himself all over you, claiming you. With a strangled groan, Daemon reached his completion, his cock spurting between your breasts and onto your chest, throat, lips and even your tongue. The pinch on your perky buds turned painfully tight with the pleasure soaring through his veins, causing you to squirm a bit, and it took a moment for the tension to slowly subside.
He watched with hooded eyes as you licked his seed off the skin your tongue could reach, and when your hands came up to peel him off of you, there didn’t come any objection from him. You wrapped your lips around his cock, and took as much of him down your throat as possible. He breathed heavily as he bowed forwards, looming over you as he took in the debauched sight in front of him.
Daemon shivered and grunted as you cleaned him up, the overstimulation making him sensitive to your touch, and he fisted your hair to pull you off of him. With the remnants of his seed still on your chin, you smiled up at him, and you could see his flaccid cock slowly growing hard again. You rested your cheek on his thigh, staring up at him as you lazily tugged him to full hardness again
“Gods,” he groaned, the bump in his throat bobbing in anticipation. “I love you, t–,” you replied, the last word catching in your throat as he hoisted you up to straddle his hips. His hard cock was nestled between your bodies, and your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, fingers entangling in the strands of his silver hair.
“I am going to make you peak, and then I am fucking you until you can no longer walk and you are carrying my child,” he mumbled into the curve of your neck, sucking in your skin to leave some faint marks. “Just to show you how much I love you, wife.”
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General Taglist: @aemondx @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1
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perfctvelvet · 13 days
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A smut involving Jenna or fem reader as a stripper or only fans star?
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Down; Jenna Ortega/Fem!Reader
Content: 2nd POV. AU. Stripper!reader, teasing, Jenna gets reader off.
A/N: I had two requests for stripper!reader with jenna so I just combined them :) I think I've only wrote a strip/lapdance scene once and that was years ago so forgive me if this is little awkward!
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Muse was nothing short of a poor excuse for a "high-end" private club. The floor was sticky from spilled overpriced drinks and the air was thick and muggy. Behind the branding and high-earning clientele, it was simply a strip club.
The year end company dinner started at Jenna's boss's favorite restaurant, to a bar across the street, and eventually to Muse. One by one her co-workers fell off, citing their tiredness as the reason they need to leave. In reality the crop of people that wanted to be out all night weren't the most ideal people to party with. Jenna said she would leave when her closest co-worker, Eve, decided to leave. However when it was her turn to bow out for the night, Jenna looked amongst the people she would be left with. It was nearly all of the senior-level employees of her department. Why she thought she could be one of the boys for the night, just for a small chance of career advancement, was beyond her. But she stayed. She stayed until she was front and center of a woman in sparkling lingerie that exposed her breast.
"We were surprised a girl like you could hang," one of the more obnoxious colleague nudges her side and winks at her.
Maybe this was some sort of joke on their behalf. The photo of her with her ex-girlfriend had sat on her desk for months until things came crashing down. Jenna wasn't ashamed, but her rule was to never talk about her personal life at work. That photo was the most she's ever said about the inner workings of her life and it was clear people had picked up on it.
Perverts.
Jenna is sure her colleague's wedding bands are shining under the stage lights, but no one seemed to care. It was par for the course; some wealthy, married men found their enjoyment in going to a club and seeing what they don't have.
Jenna found the women on stage to be pretty, beautiful even, but she felt out of place. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her like she had "newbie" written on her forehead. If she was with friends it would be different, possibly, but she was with men she has to turn reports into on Monday morning.
The same obnoxious guy in her office leans over and yells over the music, "you want a lap dance?"
The look on her face must've been a stupid one because he laughs at her.
"Not from me, of course. From one of the girls!"
"No, no. No thank you!"
It was then and there Jenna didn't realize what she got herself into. The men she work with don't like to hear the word "no." And when he got the others in on it, she soon found herself in a private room waiting for a "special visitor." She could've easily made a great escape the moment she entered the room, but was scared she would come face-to-face with the woman who was suppose to entertain her for the night. It made her feel guilty. Besides it might be best for her to occupy this person's time instead of one of her co-workers.
The lights dim in the room and the silhouette of a woman appears behind a curtain. Her outline giveaway that she's braless too, her nipples erect. Soft music played while the woman swayed her hips. She certainly knew what she was doing, moving her body to each sultry beat. Jenna can't deny that it is sexy to watch even if she wasn't use to this setting. Her ex had modeled lingerie for her and even gave her a drunken lap dance before, but this felt much more intense even with the curtain in the way.
She wondered what goes through the woman's head while she's doing this. Is she being a good audience member? She should clap every time the woman pauses? Can she even see her?
Her heart skips when the curtains began to draw back and you're revealed to be the woman behind them. You've seen plenty of women in the clubs (and nervous people in general), but you instantly took a liking to Jenna. She looked all cute just sitting there, clearly feeling our of place. Must've been a dare.
Jenna watches you closely as you begin to move to the music again, but she doesn't dare make eye contact with you. She's sitting so stiffly in her chair, you almost wanted to come down and shake her loose. There was nothing to be nervous about but the first timers were always a bit endearing to you.
You walk down the steps and stop right in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at you in the eyes. Her eyes are so gorgeous and she has a sweet face. It becomes more obvious to you that someone else definitely put her up to this.
"Relax," you whisper, voice lacing with the music.
Her ears perk up at the sound of your voice, as silky as the lingerie on your skin. It could be the loneliness from the break-up and missing a warm body against hers, but Jenna felt a tinge of desire for you.
She's like this with everyone. This is just her job.
Jenna listens to you and sinks into her seat. As she leans back, you lean in, turning around and sitting on her lap. Your hips swirl against her and you feel her clench her legs together. The purpose was to turn the client on, but you were enjoying this a little too much for your own professional lines. You turned your head over your shoulder to watch Jenna's face and she quickly adverted her eyes once again. You almost laughed at her reaction, but didn't want to make her nervous again.
However it was almost impossible not to make Jenna with the way you moved against her body. You leaned back and she she moved with you in the process. Your head rests on her shoulder and your arm comes around to wrap around her head. It takes everything in her not to run her hand up your body and grope your tits. The cool air made them so stiff that they begged for attention. There was a wetness that was growing between your legs that you tried to ignore, but some people turned you on so much that it drove you crazy. Jenna could feel your passion radiating off of you. You closed your eyes and let out a groan as if you were turning yourself on. It was in Jenna's instincts to do something to help you, but she remembered the setting. It was polite to keep her hands to herself, but you didn't want that. You grabbed one of her hands and placed it on your chest. Finally she seemed to give in a little and groped your flesh causing you to let out a heavy sigh.
"Baby," you moaned as if you too were intimately familiar with each other. It let Jenna play into the fantasy a little more.
She touched you like she would touch her ex-girlfriend. If she closed her eyes she could imagine that it was her. Guilt swam in her belly along with desire. All of her thoughts were in her head, so it wasn't like you had to know, but she would feel wrong for doing a pretty girl like you injustice by imagining she's thought someone else.
Jenna opens her eyes back to reality. Your exposed neck is right within reach of her lips and she takes the opporunity to just kiss your skin one time. She pauses for your reaction and feels warmth spread through her body when you moan in approval. She kisses your skin again and again until she feels comfortable enough parting her lips to suck on your skin. Now you're the one clench your legs together in search for some kind of relief.
This all escalated quickly and you know the timer is going to be up soon. The room was only booked for 30 minutes. You didn’t want things to end so soon, but just like Jenna you also had your rules about work. you felt the urge to take things farther and it was getting harder to ignore.
“Touch me here,” you say desperately.
Once again, you grab her hand and move it on your body. This time it lands in between your thighs. You spread your legs wide to give her a hint and she bravely takes it. She rubs your clit through your panties. The wetness of your arousal seeps through the material and Jenna can feel it.
“Just like that,” you sigh with pleasure.
Jenna is too stunned to speak. She didn’t expect that her night would end with her making a stripper cum. She wishes she could feel your bare, wet flesh against her skin but she wasn’t going to push her luck. She let you take control of the situation. She was like most clients who were eager to please but you liked how she touched you more so than others. She wasn’t too rough with you but used the right amount of pressure to make you pop. She sucked on your neck and rubbed you like you were precious cargo. It was possible that you were fulfilling a fantasy for her which was your job.
"Oh baby I'm gonna cum!"
The way you drag out the syllables and how it's followed by a moan makes Jenna heart beat out of her chest. She wonders if you can feel it while pressed so close against her. She can surely feel your clit pulsing under her touch. She rubs you through your orgasm as your entire body shakes. It's been so long, probably months, since someone has made you cum so hard and it was at the hands of someone who obviously has never stepped into a strip club before. It was easy to suss those ones out, and Jenna had something in her eyes that screamed naïve and you were sucked into what brought her here. She was probably put up to this, but to be bold enough to touch a stripper let alone make her cum, she was something else.
Once your movements stilled and you got off of her, Jenna looked everywhere besides into your eyes. "Uh...thank you." She scurried out of the room before you could say anything and before the allotted time for the room was up. It's unlikely she'll ever come back this place again, but this city isn't as big as many would think, and you hope that you'll be able to say 'what a small world' very soon.
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illuminiscentboba · 27 days
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a special occasion : kuroo tetsurou x reader
tags: a bit of hurt to comfort? I tried
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kuroo is disappointed in you, you can see it in the crease of his brows meeting, the impatient tapping of his foot, the expectant stare following you around his apartment, the incredibly vague hints that he insists are dead giveaways.
hes trying to tell you something or more accurately he wants you to tell him whatever he's been hinting at for an hour now. you've seen the hearts around both today and the date of your anniversary on his calendar, and when a sudden alarm roused you both from your slumbers.
you cracked an eye open, catching a glimpse of what you made out to be the reminders app illuminated the screen of his phone, a huge, sleepy grin bringing warmth to his face as he greets you with a raspy happy anniversary baby to which you could only cock your head in confusion, thinking you misheard him. but frankly, you haven't.
unable to stand his expectant stares, you take a seat beside him, leaning into him but he shifts away in the opposite direction. "not so fast." he chides you, almost giving in when you asked him to have breakfast together. "no cuddles from me until you tell me."
"tell you what?" you whined, latching your arms around his waist as he struggles to pry you off him. what did he want you to recall so badly? you guys had your one year anniversary literally yesterday so what on earth could it be to make him withhold his affection. and what did he mean by happy anniversary??
once he tears your arms of him he holds you by your shoulders, scanning your face. he searches deeply for repressed grin whenever you pretend to forget things to tease him or the way you can't meet his eyes when you tell a white lie. when he's only met by the furrow of your brows as you plead for a hint it dawns on him that you actually have no idea what he's talking about.
he heaves a heavy sigh, giving you one more chance to fess up and say you've been waiting to celebrate this day too and were thinking about it as much as he was. "Baby, today is an important day for our relationship."
you look at him like he's lost it. "was that not...yesterday?" its true that was also yesterday, but, "that was yesterday but theres something else."
you pause, taking a moment to retrace your steps. kuroo liked to be sure of himself and so last year kuroo gave it all in testing the waters. he started to flirt with you outside of dumb jokes and references, hug you longer than usual and make time to come with you on errand. he thought he was playing it smart and casual but who was he kidding when he agreed to come with you to babysit your sisters kid? when you two both know he is terrible with children!
but when you started returning his energy and giving him confidence in the mutual feelings between the two of you the proposal to be his significant other was grand and sweet with a huge bouquet of flowers, a love letter and balloons surprising you that afternoon.
but apparently it wasn't about that but instead 'something else'.
"I'm sorry baby but I don't remember what it is."
"our first kiss!"
"what?"
"we had our first kiss the day after the day I asked you to be mine." he jut his lip out, still sulking. oh god, how could you forget that? literally the first thing after he asked to be your partner you two were whisked away, him to his duties at his workplace and you with wedding events that went on for days, which felt like weeks to him.
you vividly recalled him driving to see you at the wedding, in a tux of his own and you excusing yourself to the bathroom so you two could have some time together and for you two to finally get the kiss he had been texting you about needing all day.
"oh my god your right!" he finally lets you hug him, leaning into your hold. "I've got to make it up to you...can I finally kiss you?" you imitate as he groans, a large palm over his face, one that he lets you slide off his face. "thank you for remembering."
of course he would, it was a really big deal for him. "happy anniversaries baby." "happy anniversaries" he mumbles into your hair and you swear you can finally hear the happiness in his voice. you can't let something like this happen every again you promise the two of you.
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amourane · 4 months
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in another life
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pairing: thief!seungcheol x princess!reader
genre: fluff, angst, THIS IS A SAD ENDING
w/c: 8k
summary: you loved choi seungcheol more than anything but it was a love that was bound to fail. maybe in another life the two of you could have been together.
warnings: character death
a/n: bringing one of the old ones back from httphannie, i was gonna try and improve it but i honestly already liked it so much so i just left it be. hope it breaks your heart <3
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The first time you met Choi Seungcheol was when you were 12. 
Sneaking around the castle wasn’t something you usually did. Technically you weren’t doing anything wrong, you were just getting some cookies. What was wrong with that? You made sure not to make any sudden movement or any loud noises. Your parents wouldn’t be happy if they saw you in your nightgown stuffing your face with cookies. 
You were meant to be the perfect princess. 
You were making your way down the stairs when you realised that something seemed off. There should have been a very expensive vase from Italy right in front of you that had been gifted to your mother but there wasn’t. And there was meant to be that priceless painting that was a wedding present for your parents that wasn't there either.
Then you heard the faint sound of the door creak. At first you thought it was one of the servants then you heard the hushed male voices. You had lived in the palace for 12 years and in those 12 years you’d gotten to know every single one of your servants. These two voices weren’t at all familiar to you. Their footsteps seemed to approach you, softly hitting the floor. You didn’t realise that you had stopped breathing, scared at who or what might have been around the corner.
“Goddammit Mingyu, I told you not to touch anything!” A voice hissed. “This is our first mission and we can’t afford to mess it up!”
“Remind me why we’re robbing the palace as our first mission again?” Another voice asked, slightly higher than the one before. “I mean it’s much too dangerous, we’re just kids Cheol.”
“Oh shut up Mingyu. We’ve just got to make sure not to run into anyone otherwise we’re dead-” A body bumped into you, making you squeak. “What the?! Who are you?!” The boy in front of you couldn’t have been much older than you are. There was an obvious scowl that was etched onto his face. You gulped.
“Seungcheol, that’s the princess.” The boy next to him, Mingyu you presumed, whispered as if he was afraid of you. He was younger than Seungcheol and he offered you a meek little smile.
Both of them were dressed all in black. The sacks they were carrying were a dead giveaway on what they were meant to be doing. You furrowed your eyebrows. There had been a number of incidents that seemed to be happening all around the kingdom. A gang had been set up and every night things were being stolen from all the monumental sights. No doubt these two were part of it.
“You guys are petty thieves.” 
The look on their face morphed into annoyance.
“We’re not petty thieves, we’re hardcore criminals and won’t be associated with some nitwit dumbassess that can’t stay hidden.” The oldest scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“You couldn’t stay hidden.” 
Mingyu let out a tiny laugh at your remark while Seungcheol’s face flushed bright red. You could only give him a sly smile. 
“What are you doing up anyway, princess?” Seungcheol steered the topic away, placing you under the hot spot. “Shouldn’t you be catching up on your beauty sleep?” The two of them stifled their laughs as you looked at them confused. 
“I was hungry.” You frowned. “What’s wrong with getting a midnight snack?”
The word ‘snack’ seemed to perk the two of them up. It was like they had forgotten all about they’re so called ‘mission’ and they looked at you with wide eyes. Mingyu grabbed Seungcheol’s arm, whispering in his ear incoherently. Ever so often, Seungcheol would nod and hum. 
“So Miss…?”
“Seungcheol, she’s Princess Y/n, how dumb are you?” Mingyu interrupted his friend as he pinched in between his nose bridge. 
“Oh shut it Gyu, not everyone studies history as methodically as you.” Seungcheol cleared his throat and he made his voice go higher when he spoke next. “Anyway, Miss Y/n, my name is Choi Seungcheol and that is Kim Mingyu. We would be delighted if you could show us your delicacies.” 
He sounded oddly posh. No one ever spoke like that. Was he mocking you?
“Why do you sound like that?” 
Seungcheol spluttered, his cheeks turned red once again. “Just show us the snacks, princess, I can’t wait forever.” 
You shrugged. What harm could they do anyway? They'd get into trouble in about five seconds flat if they did anything to you. All you had to do was scream and alert the guards on night duty. Speaking of night duty. You’ve got to tell your father to tighten security. If two dumb teenage boys could sneak in the palace, who else could? 
Softly, the three of you walked down the hallway, footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting beneath your feet. A faint glow spilled from the slightly ajar door of the kitchens as it illuminated the hallway with a soft golden hue. You heard the familiar tune of a song only one person would know. Beside you, Seungcheol and Mingyu tensed, both realising that someone else was in the kitchens.
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 
“Don't worry.” You shushed them, dragging them in the kitchen. A boy looked up at you, grinning. His soft cinnamon hair swept away from his face. “Jun’s completely harmless.” You reassured both of them.
“Who’re your friends, Y/n?” Junhui jumped off the counter. He offered his hand to both of them. “I’m Junhui, but you can call me Jun, my dad’s the head chef here.”  
“Jun makes the best chocolate chip cookies and he always makes sure to keep a special stash just for me.” You looked at the boy completely enamoured. 
Wen Junhui was the definition of perfection. He was a gentleman, he was polite, he knew how to cook and he was handsome. The whole package. You’d known each other since you were little. The crush you harboured for him was huge, nearly everyone could tell by your puppy eyes and how you’d constantly visit the kitchens for ‘snacks’ as you put it. Even your parents had given up asking you to stop going to the kitchens. They couldn’t stop you anyway.
Seungcheol stared as you made heart eyes at the boy. You were such an obvious person. How did this Junhui guy not know how much you like him? 
"I made a batch for you." Junhui scratched his head. "But I don't think it would be enough for four people. I'd have to make more. Don't worry it won't take too long." He scurried away as he got ready to bake another batch.
You led both of them away and sat them down on the wooden table at the back. The jar you took out was filled to the brim with cookies. You hand one to both of them not before stuffing a few of them into your mouth. Soft chatter soon filled the air. The four of you didn’t really notice as the clock ticked and as hours whizzed by. You learnt a lot about Seungcheol and Mingyu despite the small bickering that would erupt ever so often. 
You and Seungcheol didn’t exactly get along well.
It wasn’t until Jun had to remind you that it was nearly time for the servants to wake up that you realised how long you had actually been up. Seungcheol and Mingyu said they had to go as well and they said their goodbyes to both you and Jun. 
When you were back, nestled in your bed you thought back to the time you spent with the two boys. It was nice to have friends your age again. Being by yourself was quite lonely and now since you were ‘growing up’ it was important to learn how to become a young lady. 
Secretly you hoped that the two boys would come back but you could never be so sure.
//
You were 15 when Choi Seungcheol kissed you.
It was utterly stupid. The fact that your governess had scolded you because you had forgotten your homework was stupid. Why was homework even important? You rested your head on your hands, leaning back against the thick tree. The sun shone down and it was a warm afternoon. You ran your hands through your messy locks. 
“How are you doing princess?” You shrieked when a face swung down from above. From one of the branches hung Choi Seungcheol, the smug grin plastered on his face. Blonde strands fell close to your face as he swung to and fro and you realised that his once natural black hair was now gone.
You and Seungcheol weren’t friends per se, you were more like frenemies. There were times he would be useful and you’d help him and in return he’d help you out. It was like friends with benefits, minus the sex. He’d developed a really annoying personality once he turned 15 one year ago. 
A flirty persona, that is. It irked you more than anything.
The random pick up lines he’d drop out of nowhere and the flying kisses he’d blow at you. When you had first met three years ago, he was a sane 13 year old, speaking normally. Now, he was a raging 16 year old that liked to flirt with the ladies and charm their socks off. He was still a thief though. For some reason he’d always drop by the palace and occasionally you’d find your things go missing whenever he ‘visited’. Or sometimes he’d leave items that you knew were stolen. 
You had been really good friends with Mingyu, bonding over your love for books. The literature in the palace library was enough to make the poor boy faint. He would often visit with Seungcheol returning the books he borrowed or to borrow new things. They both had introduced you to the rest of their ‘gang’ as they called it. 
They seemed nice enough. A few of the members were cautious around you, however over time they had started to warm up to you. Seokmin had grinned so widely you were afraid he would break his jaw when he first met you. Shaking your hand enthusiastically, babbling about how much he wanted to visit the palace but he’d been assigned with some idiot to the kingdom’s museum. 
They all seemed nice enough. The constant chattering and laughing always made you smile. You considered them your friends, especially since you didn’t have anyone to hang out with besides Jun at the palace. 
“Seriously Seungcheol, I told you to stop calling me that.” You resisted the urge to throw a book at his annoying face. “I was doing fine before you came.”
“Are you sure about that princess? You cursing at your governess doesn’t say that.” 
“How did you know that?!” You’d done that in your private bathroom, granted you hadn't been naked at that time but still! “Choi Seungcheol, were you spying on me?!”
His cheeks grew red. “Y/n! Of course not, I have some humanity and dignity in me! I just - you know what nevermind.” 
He swung down, plopping in front of you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 
"I've got something for you." 
"Listen, if it's one of your stolen trinkets again I don't want it." You huffed, crossing your arms. You'd received too many 'gifts' lately and it was beginning to worry you. 
Fortunately, most of the things were returnable or either stolen from the palace. It was still worrying. You were the royal princess. It would be a disgrace to be associated with a lowly thief. But you couldn't leave Seungcheol much less leave everyone else. 
He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t steal that much Y/n, you’re exaggerating.” You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, maybe I do steal but that doesn’t mean it’s part of my personality.”
“Never said it was.”
“I-” He let out a breath, shooting you an annoyed look. “Doesn’t matter, just close your eyes.” 
"I swear to god Seungcheol, I'm gonna lose it if you pull something stupid." You reluctantly closed your eyes. Even though you didn't trust him one bit, he was still one of your best friends, though he was irritating. 
Seungcheol leaned forward, the shadows he casted on your face made your breath hitch. You felt him slip something behind your ear. He lingered for a second, staring at your pouty lips. He really shouldn’t, not when you still had that stupid crush on Jun. Your eyes fluttered open, a gasp leaving your throat when you saw how close the both of you were. Yet you didn't move. 
All you did was stare into Seungcheol’s chocolate brown eyes. Nothing was spoken. Time was frozen and you could hear your own heart beating loud and clear. You let your eyes wander down to the curve of his lips. Lips that were so pretty and irresistible. 
He leaned in and you melted when his lips touched yours, letting his breath fill you up. The kiss was sweet and slow. You closed your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck. Thoughts left you, all you could feel were his lips on yours, moving against them. The both of you pulled away, no words were exchanged. His thumb brushed over your lips.
“Can I-” 
You kiss him again, interrupting his words. His hands caressed the side of your cheek and you relaxed under his touch. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you indulged in his warm touch. Seungcheol felt right. He felt like everything you had ever wanted. His touch, his scent, his taste. It seemed as though everything fit perfectly.
The sounds around you ceased and all you could feel were his lips on yours. When you both pulled away, your cheeks were flushed scarlet. No words came out of your mouth and Seungcheol looked as equally perplexed as you did. Both of you didn’t say anything for a while. 
You seemed to snap back in shock scrambling away quickly. Apologies fell from your lips and you left Seungcheol alone, dashing back inside your palace. He stared at the place you once were. Maybe if you’d looked back you would have seen the way he looked at you. Maybe you’d figure it out but you were you. 
Seungcheol merely smiled, touching his lips. He would wait as long as it takes. 
//
You had your heart broken at the age of 16. 
Crushes lasted a few months didn't they? They would probably last for a few years at maximum. Well, you seemed to exceed that rule. How long has it been since you liked Jun? 12, 13 years? You certainly were a special case. All that time you were convinced that he liked you back. The constant cookies he had baked for you meant something, didn't it? 
Well, you were wrong. 
It was a normal Monday morning. You had just finished your classes and you were going to visit Jun like usual. Skipping down the hallway all jittery and excited. You had planned to tell him you liked him. You had a whole speech planned out. 
All of it left your brain when you opened the kitchen door to see him making out with Kim Soojin. You could hear your heart break at his actions. Funnily enough, you had just stayed there, not taking your eyes off the happy pair. Secrets normally spread like wildfire through the palace, you only could assume that they had just gotten together. 
You didn't hate Soojin. How could you?
It wasn’t like she intended to fall for Jun. He was everything anyone could dream for, you couldn’t blame her to be honest. There were times you’d notice the sneaky glances Jun would take at the girl whenever she came into the kitchens. The longing looks he would throw at her, which she would return. Deep down you knew that there was something going on. You just thought that maybe you stood a chance. 
Obviously you thought wrong. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to catch their attention. Tears were threatening to burst but you kept them at bay, not wanting to cry in front of them. Instead you smiled. 
“Didn’t know you guys were a thing.” 
Jun and Soojin turned to look at you, both of them scrambling apart. Both sporting matching red faces. 
“Y-Yeah, we just got together recently.” He scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not.” Your heart broke even more. Tiny pieces falling apart. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
The two of them grin, thanking you profusely over and over again. The whole time you kept smiling. Soojin was nice, she was kind and smart. A perfect match for Jun. You were meant to despise her but how could you compete with that? You were better off just cheering on the sidelines.
“Oh Y/n, did you come here for something?” Jun looked at you. You noticed his hands intertwined with Soojin. A sickening feeling had begun to build up in your stomach.
“I, um, no. It’s nothing. You two enjoy your time together. Don’t get caught by anyone.” You warned playfully. They giggled. Waving you bye as you closed the door.
Your room was deadly silent when you entered. You refused to cry. The feelings you thought you had disappeared. You stared at your feet. A small voice at the back of your head seemed to tell you not to worry. Obviously Jun wasn’t the guy you were meant to be with. The right person would come sooner or later. You just had to wait.
The sound of the wind made you look up. Your window was open, you swore it wasn’t before. That could only mean one thing.
“Well, hello princess.” Seungcheol taps your shoulder and you whirled around. His bright smile was wiped off his face when he saw you. Your eyes were red and glassy, you were blinking quickly, rubbing your eyes. “Hey, why are you crying? Princess, you alright?”
A beat goes by before you let out a loud sob and hug him. He wrapped his arms around you. The words were muffled but he catches ‘Jun’ and ‘kissing’ and ‘stupid crush’. Your tears kept streaming down your face, soft hiccups accompanying them. 
Seungcheol pulled you away to avoid him getting drenched by your tears also because he didn’t want you to suffocate. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your lips were trembling. He sighed, cupping your cheeks. 
“You know better than to cry over some guy. Come on Y/n, you don’t need to waste your tears on something like this.” He held your hands tightly as you sniffed. The sincerity that laced his gentle tone was what tipped you over and you started sobbing again. Seungcheol started panicking. Did he say something wrong? “Hey hey hey! Why’re you crying again?”
“W-Why are you b-being so nice?”
He chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Because I don’t like seeing you cry and I guess I care about you.”
You giggled, wiping away your tears. “I guess I care about you as well Choi Seungcheol.”
He simply pinched your cheeks and you slapped his hands away. “Now, can you help me return this crown I found?” The accessory dangling from his fingers made you laugh. 
“How did you even manage to grab that?” 
“I have skilled hands princess, I’m a thief for a reason.” The charming smile on his face had you grinning. The thoughts of Jun and Soojin were long gone. You fixed your gaze on the beautiful gems that were encrusted into your crown. The pretty sapphires glinted. You had many crowns, you could spare one of them.
“You can keep it.” 
Seungcheol’s jaw fell open. You had always made him return whatever he stole and he always did. But you had never asked him to keep something. The crown was beautiful and you surely had other ones to replace it but why would you give it to him willingly. 
“Keep it as a memory of when you finally admitted you’re a petty thief.” You grinned cheekily, sticking your tongue out at him. 
“You’re a brat, you know that?” He rolled his eyes, pocketing your crown. “I’m not a petty thief I’m a-”
“Hardcore criminal, yeah you’ve told me.” 
“Keep that in mind princess, I’ve been training ever since I was 3.” He smirked. “You shouldn’t doubt me.” You shrieked when he jumped out of the window, rushing to peer outside. When you do, he’s sitting on a tree, grinning right at you.
“Don’t do that!”
“Check your pockets!” He shouted as he disappeared, probably to meet the boys somewhere in town.
You fumbled around your pockets, confused. Your fingers brushed something and you pulled it out. A single rose lay in your palm. The colour a deep red, the delicate petals lay softly on you. You giggled. 
Guess he really did have good hands. 
//
You told Seungcheol you loved him when you were 19.
It had been the night of your 19th birthday. Your parents had thrown you a grand party in the palace ballroom, inviting all the neighbouring kingdoms to celebrate. There were so many people and you were made to go to each and every one to thank them for coming. You never asked for such a big birthday party and you would’ve much preferred not having a party but your parents had insisted.
By the time it hit 10pm the party was in full swing. Other nobility were drinking from their flutes of champagne and some were taking the floor to dance. Many had asked you for a dance to which you had reluctantly agreed. It was all a big blur. Bright lights and forced laughter.
It was way past midnight when you managed to make it up to your room. You were beyond exhausted. Your parents had made you interact with every single guest and you wanted to bury yourself into your bed so badly.
Darkness surrounded you as you entered your room and your feet automatically brought you to where your bed was. Too tired to function, you flopped down onto the covers and as you did something hissed. Your reaction is immediate and you jump up and flick the lamp on your bedside hurriedly.
Seungcheol greeted you with bleary eyes and a pained expression on his face.
“Did you have to throw your body onto me?”
“Wha-What are you doing here?!” You questioned, shocked at his face. 
“I came to wish you a happy birthday.” He rolled his eyes. “But you were taking forever at that party of yours and I got tired.”
Seungcheol tugged the covers away from his body and sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair, dragging his fingertips through the knots. You watched when he finally looked up at you.
“What?”
You frowned at his actions. “You stayed here for hours just for me to get back.”
Seungcheol’s cheeks turned pink and he cleared his throat. “Well, you are my friend are you not?”
You shuffled in your position, crossing your legs on the bed. “Yes of course we’re friends, but you didn’t have to stay here for so long. What if I took longer.”
“Then I’d still wait.” He shrugged. His eyes wandered over the fancy dress you were still wearing, finally locking them with yours. “That doesn’t look too comfortable.”
It’s a weird feeling but you felt your heart pound like it did all those years ago when you first kissed him. You blinked silently, trying to steady your heart from jumping out of your mouth. Seungcheol was no longer the teenage boy you once knew. He had grown up and he had lost the baby fat in his cheeks as well as the boyish charm he once held. He was handsome and sexy dare you admit it. There were multiple occasions he would make you stare at him and you couldn’t help the thoughts that would come into your mind.
Like right now.
“Princess?” His voice was soft, a whisper and he inched closer to your face, wondering why you had suddenly gone quiet.
You gulped. “Cheol…can I kiss you?”
His eyes widened, obviously taken aback at what you had just said. You looked up at him, body already burning from god knows what. Seungcheol’s eyes flitted down to your lips and even though there was little light you could see the way his pupils widened and his eyes turned darker.
The distance between the two of you grew shorter and shorter until you were millimetres away and his hand came up to touch the back of your neck. You shivered at the sensation, breath hitching.
It was in less than a second that Seungcheol closed the gap between the both of you. His lips crashed onto yours and it was like a perfect fit. His lips were soft and the feeling of them on yours caused your body to feel light. Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled him closer towards you. The sweet taste made your head spin and you continued to kiss him passionately.
All those days after you had kissed Seungcheol there was an unrelenting spark that never went out. Sure, he had acted like everything was normal but you never missed the glances he would throw at you. In a way you both knew what you felt but you had constantly denied it.
You weren’t now though.
The man in front of you kissed you with fire and you melted into his arms once again. Choi Seungcheol made you feel things that no one ever had and maybe this was love and if it was you wanted it to last forever. 
The two of you eventually pulled away breathless and panting. His eyes locked with yours and you felt an unknown emotion well up inside of you. It wasn’t like anything you had felt before and it overtook you, consuming you whole.
“What now?” He whispered into your hair. “Are we going to forget about this or…?”
You stayed quiet before softly speaking up. “Do you want to forget about this?”
“Of course not, you’re precious to me Y/n, I’d do anything for you.”
You flushed at the sudden confession. “Well I don’t want to forget about this either. So does this mean that we’re…”
Seungcheol chuckled as he gave you a chaste kiss. “You’re mine now princess, and I’m yours.”
There was silence for a while. Pleasant and sweet silence. The two of you stayed cuddled up in each other's arms for a good few minutes, basking in each other's warmth. You could have stayed in Seungcheol’s embrace for an eternity. 
“Cheol.” You looked up at the guy you had known for so many years. The tender love that filled his eyes made your heart swell and pound in your chest, begging to be free. “I love you.”
A beat passed.
Seungcheol’s face split into a grin and he tugged you closer towards him.
“I love you even more.”
Needless to say that night was the happiest night of both of your lives.
//
You were 21 when you were told you had to be married off. 
The items on your table were scattered across the floor along with your clothes. There didn’t seem to be anything you could do to stop your father’s decision. Your tears kept streaming down your face, your soft hiccups echoing through your room. The news had been brought on you so soon, you couldn’t comprehend what even happened back there. All you knew was you were going to be married off to some man that you wouldn’t even love.
You flopped down on your bed. The bright sun outside was a stark contrast to your emotions. The world obviously didn’t realise you were upset. You were only 21, so young and not ready to get married. There was still so much to explore, so much to discover, not to mention you were in love with Choi Seungcheol. How could you get married? What would that mean? 
Seungcheol stood outside of your door. He silently listened to your soft sobs. Maybe he had been eavesdropping back in the throne room. So what? He only wanted to know what seemed so important. The moment he had learnt that you were meant to be married off, it felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest. He would never admit it but he knew he wasn’t the one meant for you no matter how much he loved you.
Normally, he’d barge right in and greet you but he couldn’t. Whenever his fingers brushed the door knob he’d flinch away like it burnt him. In all the years he’d never heard you cry, that is except when you’d seen Jun sucking Soojin’s face off. The situation he was in shocked him too much. What was he meant to do? 
“Is she alright?” Jun knelt down beside Seungcheol. “She hasn’t come out in a while?”
“She’s still crying.” He simply shook his head. You were 21, surely you didn’t have to get married. “She has no other option does she? She’s their only daughter, they’ll grant her whatever she wants right.” 
Junhui grimaced. “Not this time Seungcheol, I don’t think so.” The boy stood up, dusting his clothes. Jun and Seungcheol had bonded over the years, the rest of the gang seemed to like him as well so that was a bonus. The two of them were friends. “Are you going to wait for her?”
“Yeah, someone’s got to be there when she comes out.”
Several hours later, the door creaked open. Seungcheol bolted up. He was greeted with your tear stained face. There was a part of him that knew it was better to leave you alone but he couldn’t. Instead he hugged you close and gave you a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist. 
“Are you doing better?” 
“I’m okay.” Your voice was soft and quiet. “You should go.”
Seungcheol frowned. “You must be crazy to think I’d actually leave you.” He grabbed your hand. “Let’s go outside for a bit, get some fresh air.” He attempted to pull you with him but you remained rooted to the spot, your feet refusing to budge from the ground as if tethered by invisible chains.
His gaze lingered upon you, drinking in the subtle nuances of your demeanour - the avoidance of his eyes, the restless fidgeting of your hands, the nervous bite of your lip. There was something wrong, something that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent whisper.
“Listen.” You pulled your hand out of his grasp. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore. Things are a bit...complicated.”
Seungcheol's world screeched to a halt, disbelief painting his features as he struggled to comprehend what you had just said. "Y-You want me to leave?” You nodded. “Like forever."
This time you hesitated for a second but you still nodded your head. He didn’t believe you’re being genuine on this. There was no way you’d ask him to leave. He’d known you for many years but why now?
“Well, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why. I’m not giving up on us.” 
Normally, you would start giggling and give him a sweet kiss and finally give in to him. All you did was sigh and look away. No emotions on your face. 
“Just go Seungcheol.” You stared at him lifelessly. Your eyes were a deep void of nothingness. He opened his mouth to start arguing with you but closed it. What could he do? He’s nothing compared to you. “Go before I call the guards.”
He stood still determined not to leave but then he saw the pain in your eyes. The tiredness. You sighed, turning away to leave.
"Is this it then? You’re just going to give up on us?" Seungcheol glared at you. It was insane that you'd think that he'd leave you when you both had known each other for so long. "We both know that you’re lying to yourself."
Your eyes hardened to stone and you barred your teeth. "You're delusional."
"If I am then you are too." He snarled, stepping closer to you. His eyes softened and he held your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I love you."
You faltered at the three words. He’d say them all the time but this time it made you feel weak. Even though Seungcheol was angry you could tell that those three words were pleading for you to say them back. It was an internal fight and you looked down at your hand in his. You knew what would happen if you were caught with him and now your father was already suspicious. You couldn’t risk Seungcheol’s life like that.
"Y/n I love you and I always have, please don’t do this." He pleaded. You bit your lip, closing your eyes as you took a deep shaky breath. "Please don’t do this, not to us please. Did it not mean anything to you?" 
"I-I…" You flinched when he reached out to touch you. There was a rock at the pit of your stomach and you didn’t know why but your throat was closing up and you could feel tears begin to prick your eyes again. "Seungcheol I can't…"
"Why not?!"
"You know why!" 
The truth was bitter and vile. It was cruel and it was ugly. The truth that neither of you dared to voice aloud. Tears were streaming down your face and you wiped them away furiously trying to get them to stop. 
"Don't you get it?" You pushed him away. "It's not going to work, it's impossible and we both know that. Just leave Seungcheol, I don't need you anymore."
“Y/n it isn’t funny when you say those things.” 
You didn’t respond. Seungcheol sighed, already knowing your answer. Reluctantly, he left you alone. This time he was the one leaving you and he didn’t look back. Maybe if he did he’d see you, heartbroken, stifling sobs. 
//
ONE YEAR LATER
"Someone was spotted last night." A guard reported to your father. "They were looking for something."
You tensed. It had been nearly a year since you had kicked Seungcheol out. One year of utter silence in your life. You didn't receive any more gifts nor did you have some chatter to fill your lonely void. You missed everything about him. From his sweet kisses to his laughter that never failed to cheer you up. When he stopped appearing so did the others and as more and more months passed you deluded yourself into thinking that they hated you. Because how could they not? 
To hear that someone was nearly caught last night was nerve-wracking. However you were positive it wouldn't be one of them. They'd know better to show their face here. Your father had tightened the security around the palace, apparently you were at the tender age to be kidnapped and ransomed. To set foot in the palace was like setting foot into a death trap.
"Did you catch them?" Your father glared at the guard when he shook his head. "Did you at least find some clues to who this mystery person is?" 
The guard gulped, his eyes flickered to you for a second. "They left a note." You swallowed your food thickly. "Outside the princess's window." 
This time you tried not to choke on the food. Your hope about it not being one of the guys grew dimmer and dimmer. 
"Well, hand it over." Your father snatched the piece of paper off the guard's hand, eyes scanning the note. His eyes fixed on you and you know what's about to happen. "Check the perimeter for any sight of suspicion. You're dismissed." 
The guard scurried away not before giving you a small apologetic glance. 
"What's wrong my dear?" Your mother's tone was laced with worry. "Is everything alright?"
"Looks like someone wants to meet Y/n tomorrow night." You didn’t have to look up to know that his eyes were burning into you. It was like he was trying to cook you alive for answers. "Anything you have to say?"
You kept your mouth shut, poking at your breakfast. 
Your father lowered his voice. “You’re going to help capture this criminal and god forbid you disobey me.” He hissed. “Understand Y/n.”
You didn’t move, frozen in shock. “Y-Yes, father.” You just hoped that it wasn’t who you thought it was.
//
It was cold. Cold and windy. You were standing on your balcony, fiddling with the note in your hands. No doubt about it. You recognised the handwriting and it felt like fate was sealed. There were guards hidden everywhere possible. 
Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweaty. 
“Didn't think you’d actually come.” 
You spun around. Seungcheol was leaning against the door. He’d grown taller since you last saw him and he had dyed his hair again. If it wasn’t under these circumstances you’d be overjoyed to see him again but all you could feel was guilt. The dreading feeling of guilt and shame. 
His bright grin was wiped away when he heard a noise. His eyes widened in terror as he looked at you. It’s a pleading look and you didn’t meet his eyes. 
“You did it, didn’t you?” Seungcheol shook his head. 
It’s a sickening sight to see him get handcuffed. It would've been better if he had started shouting or at least given you a glare. But all he did was sigh as if he knew it was coming. You didn’t speak a word. Even when he was dragged out of your room and your father told you that you did a good job. You didn’t respond. 
It’s only when you were sure everyone’s gone that you let the tears break. You slid down the wall, muttering sorry over and over again. The guilt ate you up, consuming you. The feeling was suffocating and even though your sobs were quiet you still felt like you were being torn apart. There was a new hole in your heart that’s bigger than the rest and this time you had no one to blame but yourself.
//
“Choi Seungcheol, you are charged with multiple attempts of theft and one attempt of treason. You will follow the normal punishment of a death sentence, you have the right to defend yourself.” 
The treason bit was a lie. The royal court had made that up, like they did for everything that they deemed wrong. You blinked back tears at the sight of Seungcheol kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind his back. He was thinner and paler, being locked in a cell for days on end had taken its toll. There were dark bags under his eyes and his clothes were dirty. Yet his eyes were still bright and lively as if he wasn't about to be heavily punished. The dark orbs were twinkling with the familiar mischief as he stared at you. 
“Any last words?”
He keeps his gaze trained on you, lips tugging into a tiny grin. “Check your pockets.” 
Your breath hitched and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when your fingers brushed something cold. Upon touching the object you’ve got a pretty good idea about what it was and when your hands brush a tiny rock you felt like crying again. Your parents were too busy mumbling to notice as you slipped away back into the shadows.
You pulled the object out of your pocket and you smiled blissfully. A silver ring with a beautiful diamond in the centre. It wasn’t big and flashy like the jewels you owned in the palace but it was enough. More than enough. A tear fell and then another and another. Before you knew it you were biting back sobs, slipping the ring onto your finger. You curl into a ball like you were five again, wiping away the tears that fall freely. 
Once you returned Seungcheol was gone and your parents were looking at you disappointed.
"Y/n you really shouldn't disappear like that." Your father reprimanded. 
"Where's Seungcheol?" 
"You mean that criminal." He scoffed. "Locked away, execution is set for tomorrow."
Your face paled and your fingers brushed over the ring. He would do the same for you if you were in his position. It's a split second decision when you dashed away, your parents shouting for you to come back. You ignored their cries, running to the dungeons, a guard caught you by your shoulders, stopping you from going further.
“Stop it.” You shouted, wriggling desperately. “Stop it, let me through.”
They apologise profusely all while dragging you back to your parents. The royal court was already dismissed and it's only you, your father and mother in the room. You didn’t dare to make eye contact with both of them. It was stupid how they still treat you like a child.
Instead of speaking you simply trudged up to your room. You heard your father muttering to the guards about keeping an eye on you so you wouldn’t escape. There was no use in that, no matter how tight the security measures you were going to find a way out. You had to.
//
It was the dead of night and you were creeping around the palace like you once did when you were younger. You had managed to slip by the guards and now you were making your way down to the dungeons. If you had guessed correctly, the guard who was on duty tonight liked to drink so you may have slipped a few sleeping pills into his drink before bed. He should be fast asleep by now.
Sure enough when you pushed the door open the guard was fast asleep on the floor, soft snores escaping his lips. You silently walked over, plucking the keys from his belt. There weren’t many people in the dungeons, you didn’t really keep prisoners. So there was only one cell that was occupied.
Seungcheol was leaning against the dirty brick wall, hands still cuffed. There was a small rock that he's throwing at the wall as he whistled. Somehow he managed to still look stunning while in a rotting jail cell. He looked up when you grabbed the cell bars trying to unlock it as quietly as possible. His eyes flickered to the ring on your finger and he wistfully smiled.
"I see you've received my gift." 
It was infuriating how he was so calm in this situation, how it seemed like he didn't care. He had a death date all set up for him and his life was in the line. How could anyone be calm in this situation?
"Why'd you give me this?" You took a shaky breath when he got up, walking closer. His eyes softened.
"Because I love you." He let out a little laugh. "Have since I met you."
You were crying again. The both of you know it's not possible. It wouldn't work. You'd drilled that thought into your head. His hand caressed your cheek and you saw his eyes were glassy as well.
"Whatever happens tomorrow, promise me you won't blame yourself." Seungcheol's handcuffs jangle when they hit the metal bars. You shake your head. "It's not your fault that it ended this way." 
You were choking back tears. "Y-You can't just give me a r-ring and die you moron. I-It's not fair." 
Seungcheol rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Don't think of it as dying silly." He reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Think of it as a long…disappearance. You can always still visit the boys in the cabin if you want. They've missed you."
"I sent their f-friend to jail." You deadpanned.
"Yeah but you also gave their friend the best years of his life. The time I spent with you Y/n are the best moments of my life.”
You sniffled, wiping your tears. "I hate you." 
"No, you don't." He teased, poking your cheek. "You love me."
A moment of silence passed with you staring at the thief you grew up with, the one you had fallen in love with. The both of you had been through so much and for it to end like this. You never would have fathomed that you would be in this situation, yet here you were.
"I hate how you're always right." You let out a deep breath, blinking rapidly. Seungcheol wiped your tears away and you held his hand. He raised an eyebrow as if expecting you to say it. You rolled your eyes. “I love you too idiot.”
Once the words leave your mouth you feel like breaking down again. It just confirmed what was going to happen. 
“You’re going to ruin that pretty face of yours if you cry again princess.” 
“I-I’m not crying.”
“You’re not?” He let out a laugh. “Of course not, you’ve just got something in your eye.”
You nodded, sniffling some more. “Please tell me you're planning to escape. The door’s wide open.”
“I can’t risk you getting in trouble and I doubt your parents are happy you’re down here right now.” You couldn’t care less, the guy you love was about to die, you weren’t going to stay and act pretty for a bunch of obnoxious people. “Speaking of, you should probably go before anything bad happens.”
“I’m not leaving.” You stood your ground, folding your arms. The guards had no right to drag you out of here. Your parents might grow furious and your reputation would be tarnished but you didn’t care. Not anymore. You wouldn’t leave.
Seungcheol let go of your hand. “Listen to me Y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow and if I don’t just know that I would do anything in the world for you.” You heard the distant footsteps of someone approaching. He gives you one last smile. “Now go before something bad happens.”
Hesitantly, you give one last glance at the thief you loved in chains and shackles. He wasn’t crying but you could tell it was hurting him so much. You kissed him. His lips were still as soft as you remembered and he still smelt of the same soothing vanilla. Nothing seemed to matter and time seemed to stop. 
You really hoped things would have turned out differently but it didn't. This was how the world worked, not everyone got their happy ending. The both of you part and you embraced him tightly.
“Maybe in another life we could be happy.” 
“Maybe...” You buried your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. The footsteps started getting closer and you reluctantly pulled away. You bite your bottom lip, peering at the entrance to the dungeons. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you more.”
//
When you were seated on your throne, the public beneath you, you didn’t feel good. Seungcheol was on the floor, hand behind his back and a blindfold was tied around his eyes. There was nothing good about this. You felt like throwing up. 
You didn’t remember much of the execution, your mind had blocked out the memories and your eyes had been shut for most of it. You only remember bursting into silent tears as soon as you got into your room. The shame was eating you up yet Seungcheol’s words stayed fresh in your head. 
It was like your world had collapsed, the days after the execution you spoke not a word and didn’t eat or drink. It was only when the maids would insist you eat that you did. Your parents were too busy to notice a change in your behaviour and you couldn’t care less. The hole in your heart only grew bigger.
The diamond ring on your hand was the only thing that kept you connected with him. It made your heart hurt whenever you would think of the memories with him. The years you spent your life with him were your happiest and you knew you would never forget them. 
As years went by the memories were still fresh in your mind as if they had all happened yesterday. Even though your father had married you off, you still kept the ring on your hand. You still remembered the cheeky boy who had broken into the palace many years ago and you remembered how you fell in love with him over time. 
Over the years the pain subsided and you learnt to grasp at the happy moments. You found how to be happy again and you knew how he would never want you to live sad for your whole life. And as you grew older and had children of your own you finally felt the guilt wash away. The past had been eating you up and you had let it go, learning how to enjoy your life for him.
But you’ll never forget how much you loved Choi Seungcheol and how much he loved you back. And maybe in another life you both could be happy together.
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376 notes · View notes
holllandtrash · 10 months
Note
Never ever ever a normal weekend for little leclerc
Little leclerc is me. I am struggling
with love from vegas | lando norris
(part of the 6 to 1 series) because i couldn't stop thinking about whether little leclerc would accompany lando or stay to watch charles warnings: lando's crash :( word count: 3.2k
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Your heart sank to your chest. You felt sick or maybe you felt like you were going to pass out. Regardless, one hand went to your mouth to cover your painful gasp as the other hand gripped the ledge in the McLaren garage. 
It came out of nowhere, that was the worst part. You couldn’t brace yourself for what was to happen which meant the second you saw Lando spin out, on the straight, your entire body went numb. There was no explanation for it and not a single thought went through your mind as the slowest seconds of your life passed by.
One. Lando lost the back end of his car and had no control through the straight. 
Two. He hit the wall and his car spun. You couldn’t imagine what was going through his head as he sat in the car, helpless, backwards. He couldn’t even see what he was heading towards. The sparks coming from the bottom of his car were blinding even just watching it on screen.
Three. Everyone in the garage had the same reaction as the momentum of Lando’s hit had him spinning and sliding until he crashed into the barriers in the run off. 
Four. There was no response.
“Lando, are you okay?” You heard the question come in from Will through your headset but it was the silence that followed that caused your world to stop.
Your hands were shaking, your whole body was shaking, tears brimmed at your eyes as you felt a comforting touch on your back. You weren’t able to register who was trying to console you, your eyes were glued to the screen, to the scene of Lando’s car demolished against the barriers.
You thought about how you woke up late this morning with his arms wrapped around you. How he ordered room service while you took a shower so it would be ready to eat by the time you stepped out. He joked about missing the race and mentioned the F1 themed wedding chapel instead, said that it would be a better show than the Grand Prix.
You thought about the quick interview he had with Martin Brundle before the race. How Lando said the track felt dreadful, that he was worried about the temperatures but didn’t elaborate anymore, just tried to be hopeful. Lando draped his arm around your shoulders as you asked him about the upcoming race, asked if he was worried and he only shrugged, not wanting to give you any reason to be concerned for him. 
You thought about how moments before he got in the car he kissed you. Not a quick peck, not a last minute thing, but he walked to the back of the garage where you stood and grabbed your face with both hands. You felt lightheaded, not usually a fan of the heavy PDA in such an open area but Lando didn’t care at this race. He kissed you and he told you he loved you and then tilted your head down to kiss the top of your forehead. 
You knew that this was out of character for him, but you didn’t question it.
Now, though, it had your mind spinning. Was there a voice in the back of his head telling him that something was going to go wrong? Did he reach for his helmet and feel a sudden dread which prompted him to tell you he loved you one more time? Was he scared it would be last time he’d say it?
“Lando,” Will repeated, doing his best to sound calm for the young driver. “Are you okay?”
You’d never been happier to hear someone so out of breath.
“Yeah, all good,” Lando’s pained voice came through. Rushed and probably a lie, but at least he responded. 
You could breathe, but the grunt that followed his words was a dead giveaway something else was wrong. Either he had sustained serious injuries or he was thinking about the race that had just fallen through his fingers, fourth place in the driver standings being kissed goodbye. Truthfully, you were hoping for the latter. 
Lando climbed out of the car and you wiped away your tears in time for the F1TV broadcast to capture it. Without waiting to hear what the commentators had to say about your emotions running high, you pulled your headset off and headed out the back of the garage.
As horrible as it was, you made sure you knew where the medical centre was in proximity to both Lando and Charles’ garages during every Grand Prix weekend. In this case, it wasn’t too far down the paddock and you had beat the medical car there, but you were still anxious and you would be until he was cleared.
The back door opened and Lando, still in his race suit, climbed out and found you immediately. You met him halfway and even though he was fine, he was walking, he was in good enough condition to pull his helmet off himself, you cried the second you met his eyes. 
Flashes of worst case scenarios flooded your mind. Lando pulled you into his chest, despite being told he had to go get checked out. He held you tightly, hand stroking your hair, both of you trembling. You probably more than him.
“I hate this fucking sport,” you muttered and Lando laughed in response, kissing the top of your head like he had before climbing into the car.
“I know,” he said and the next time he was ushered inside, you went with him. Lando assured the nurse that you’d sit quietly and not disturb them as he went through the standard post-crash procedures. 
He seemed fine, so the more time that passed the more you started to let yourself loosen up. Lando spoke quietly to the nurse and you tried to listen in at first, but your attention soon found its way to the broadcast of the race, displayed right in front of the bed. 
You were so caught up with Lando that you hadn’t even realised Charles had managed to hold onto second, and not only that but was closing in on Max as much as he could. He was holding his own, something that both Ferrari’s had struggled with this season.
When the nurse walked out, you pulled your chair up as close as you possibly could to the bed, resting your elbow on the mattress as you propped your head on your hand.
“Charles in second still?” Lando asked and you nodded, turning to look at the McLaren driver who was also watching the race at this point.
He reached forward, using his thumb to wipe away some remnants of mascara under your eye. You leaned into his touch and it was safe to say you felt like yourself again, knowing that Lando was okay, physically.
“I’m sorry about the driver standings,” you whispered and Lando offered you a somewhat genuine smile.
“Season’s not over yet,” he pointed out, holding onto the possibility that he could still claim fourth behind Lewis. You nodded in agreement, but if you were being completely honest, you didn’t care about where he was going to end up after Abu Dhabi, just as long as he finished the race. 
You stretched your hand across of you to hold onto Lando’s, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over yours, like he was the one consoling you. Neither of you said anything else, both turning your attention to the race.
Lando could see you sit up slightly every time Charles closed the gap a bit more. He could feel the faint squeeze of your fingers every time Charles had a close call with the barriers or attacked a curb a little too hard. 
By the time lap 15 came around, Charles was within DRS range of Max. Lando could admit that this race, that battle, was entertaining, but he found you to be even more mesmerising. The excitement you had for your brother, the way you held your breath during every little move, the way your face lit up when the gap was 4 tenths of a second. 
I hate this sport, you had told him. 
What a bold faced lie. You loved this sport. You loved Formula 1, despite the heartaches, the anxiety, the way it aged you faster than anything else would. You loved the thrill, you loved watching those you loved succeed and quite literally chase after their dreams. 
And then the overtake finally happened. 
To be fair, Max wasn’t trying too hard to defend with his recent call to box, but it was still the most exciting thing you had seen in a handful of races. 
“Charles Leclerc takes the lead of the Las Vegas Grand Prix!”
You shot up instantly, letting go of Lando’s hand to cheer at the screen. Lando laughed at your reaction, at the way you fist bumped the air. There was a glow to you, watching Charles make something of himself, of the car, after struggling race after race. 
You turned over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear at Lando, “He might…win this.”
Lando opened his mouth to respond, maybe he was going to bring you back down to earth, but the door opened at the moment and his nurse returned. 
You stepped to the side of Lando’s bed as he sat up a bit, giving the nurse a polite smile, even though he knew exactly what she was going to say. 
“I know you don’t want to hear this but it’s procedure,” she started. “We’ve got to transfer you to the hospital, Lando.”
He nodded, a quiet sigh escaping his lips, “I figured that was bound to happen.”
Lando glanced up at you, and as supportive of a girlfriend as you were, half of your focus had gone back to the race. It wasn’t until a few other transport nurses walked into the room did you realise what was going on.
“Oh,” you spoke quietly, pulling your eyes off the screen. “Oh. We’re going now, okay.” 
Lando chuckled, “What do you mean we?”
You were both staring at each other in major confusion, but you voiced yours before he could, “I’m coming with you.”
He shook his head, but his eyes squinted as he smiled, like he knew something you didn’t. “No you’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staying here,” Lando nodded his head towards the race. “You’re going back to the garages and you’re going to watch Charles finish this race.”
“Lando,” you scoffed. “I’m not letting you go to the hospital alone.”
“Well I’m not letting you come with me so where does that leave us?”
You glanced up at the nurses, a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation but if anything they just found the banter amusing. Lando reached for your hand and pulled your attention back to him. 
“Charles is leading right now,” he reminded you. “You said it yourself, he might win this. You should be here for him wherever he crosses the finish line. And I love you, but I don’t need you to accompany me to a check-up. Your brother will need you, no matter where he places.”  
“Lando don’t make me choose, you know I hate that,” you wanted to be annoyed at him, really. But when he was looking up at you with the kindest smile painted on his lips it was hard to feel anything except love for him. 
“That’s why I’m choosing for you,” he laughed before bringing your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Just because I can’t finish the race doesn’t mean you have to miss it too. Go watch Charles.”
“But-”
“Go!”
You glanced at the tv and then at him and the nurses and back at him. Lando wasn’t the slightest bit hurt that you weren't going with him, but he knew you would have unless he said something. He also knew that if he hadn’t said something and you ended up missing Charles’ best race of the season, you’d be so incredibly upset with yourself.
You hated putting yourself in these positions so Lando, as much as he could, did absolutely anything to avoid it.
“I love you,” you said, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. “Text me any updates- all updates. I mean it.” 
“I will,” he assured you, letting you know he was okay one final time before another reminder that he loved you. Lando then watched as you practically sprinted out of the medical centre.
No one was surprised to see you show up in the Ferrari garage. You grabbed a headset and stood near the back, already seeing an array of celebrities standing as close as possible to the mechanics. 
Charles kept pulling ahead as other cars went in to pit. Of course you were anxious, hoping the strategy wouldn’t fail him this time but you managed to keep your facial expressions in check when his team pulled off a below average pit-stop. It wasn’t end all-be all but it did give Checo the opportunity to claim first place.
Seeing Lance ahead of Charles for a short while was certainly a little shocking and then seeing a handful of cars coming in following the safety car had your blood pressure rising because Charles stayed out, but you had faith in him. He knew what he was doing and hopefully his team did too.
Charles did what he could to defend against Checo when he reclaimed the first place spot, but come lap 32 there wasn't much he could do and the Mexican driver took the lead. All the while, Max was working his way up through the grid which of course gave you an intense amount of anxiety. 
The cheer you let out when Charles passed once more a few laps later was drowned out through the garage as the rest of the team applauded his late move but it was only minutes later when you were wincing at the screen, teeth clenched as Max made his way closer and closer to the Ferrari driver. Your head fell back in disappointment when Max took first place from him and for a while you wondered if this race was going to end up being another Red Bull 1-2. 
It certainly looked that way as Checo passed Charles, dropping your brother down to third. The laps kept counting down and while he was doing a damn good job at staying within DRS, he couldn’t make the move on Checo again.
Or at least, that's what you and everyone thought up until the very last lap, more specifically, the last opportunity for an overtake. 
Charles, seemingly out of nowhere, dove to the inside at turn 14 when Checo least expected it. Checo tried to fight back but for those last few metres of the track you were jumping and screaming in pure excitement for Charles for having pulled off such a successful move. Your headset fell down around your neck but that didn’t matter, what mattered was this was one of Charles’ best races, best fights, all season and you knew he was going to be proud of it. 
You were proud of him. 
Carlos had found you during the chaos of the post-race interviews and podium ceremony. You heard something about a limo and you weren’t really sure what was going on, but that gave you a few minutes to collect yourself. Carlos asked how Lando was after giving you a hug, he was happy to see you of course, but he was worried about his friend.
You pulled out your phone to see a few pictures from Lando, one was a selfie with a thumbs up and the other was him physically strapped to a gurney with a cheeky smile on his lips. The text to accompany it read, ‘I joked about making a run for it, no one laughed.’ 
“He’s fine,” you showed Carlos the images. 
“You didn’t want to go with him?” He asked.
“I did,” you nodded, taking another look at the pictures. “But he told me to stay, for Charles.”
“Are you glad you did?”
Hesitantly, you nodded. You wanted to be at Lando’s side more than anything, but he was right. This was a race where you should have been there for Charles.
When the chaos subsided and Charles came back to the garage, you were the first person he engulfed in a hug. 
“I’m so proud of you,” you told him, having been wanting to say those words since that last overtake. You swayed for a few seconds, knowing that these moments were far and few between with how unfortunate this season had been for him. 
“Merci,” he kissed your cheek and then pulled back, hands going to your shoulder as if he was inspecting you, despite the fact that he was the one who had just spent the last hour and a half in a race car. “Lando va bien?” Is Lando okay?
You didn’t have the words to explain how much that simple question meant to you. 
Charles loved seeing you there waiting for him in the garage but he would have also known that meant leaving Lando’s side. He would probably always give you a hard time for dating a driver, but at the end of the day he saw just how much you cared about that driver. He would have known that his crash affected you, would have pained you to watch and he wanted to make sure that he was okay, that you were okay. 
“He’s fine,” you nodded. “He’ll probably still want to go out clubbing later.”
Charles was content with that answer. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and tucked you into his side as you walked through the garage, wanting you to accompany him to his next pre-race obligation. 
“So why did you didn’t go with him?” Charles asked you. “After a crash like that I would have understood if you left the race too.”
It was embarrassing the way that the tears started to gloss over your eyes again. But you loved Charles and you loved Lando and you loved that there was finally that mutual respect you had been waiting for.
“He told me to stay,” you weren’t going to lie to Charles and say it was your idea to leave Lando. “He wanted me to be here for you, for your race.”
Charles just nodded to himself at your answer. You saw the sliver of the smile that curled up on his lips though, probably telling himself he’d have to thank Lando later because you were always someone he looked for after a race. 
“Are you okay?” Charles asked next, glancing down at you. 
“Yeah,” you let out a tired breath. “Yeah I think I’m just ready for the season to be over.”
“One more race.”
“One more race,” you repeated. “And then me and Lando will elope for real.”
Charles yanked on a strand of your hair, “If you do that, don’t even bother coming to any of the races next year.”
There was underlying truth to his words, but you also knew that at the end of it all, Charles was growing supportive of you and Lando. He certainly wasn’t at the point where he’d be fine with a wedding, but he wasn’t going to make a fuss when you weren't in his garage anymore. 
You were there when it mattered and if you needed it, Lando would always be there to give you a reminder as to when that was. 
844 notes · View notes
whateversawesome · 5 months
Text
Spy x Family Code: White Analysis
I finally saw the Spy x family movie Code: White!!
It was fantastic. I loved it 💖
Here's what I think (spoilers below the picture 😉):
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Twilight
It's super evident Twilight cares A LOT about his family. As soon as Handler tells him someone else will take over Operation Strix, he's worried and, during the movie, he goes around like a crazy man doing all sorts of crazy things to keep his family. Nevertheless, the biggest giveaway about this happens when:
Twilight puts Anya before his mission!! Yes, you read right: Agent Twilight receives a direct order from WISE telling him that recovering the microfilm had priority over rescuing Anya and Mr. Spy puts his daughter's safety first and goes to her rescue (which eventually led to getting the microfilm back, but still).
Yor
Yor is a total mom here. She protects her baby and plays with her too 😌 She acts like a mom too because she's always trying to keep the family together; she's the one who reminds that to Loid when he's all frantic working. Here, Yor displays one of her best quality: emotional intelligence. And of course, during the movie at the big fight scene she looks like a total badass.
Now about the big Twiyor moment...
Like I mentioned before here, there's a fake and a real Twiyor moment in the movie. The fake Twiyor moment happens when Yor gets drunk and asks Loid to tell her how he really feels about her (!!!)...before passing out 🫤 You've probably seen plenty of images about that:
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The real Twiyor moment happens later, thanks to the captain of the Twiyor ship 🫡 Anya Forger, who pushes her parents to ride the Ferris wheel alone so they can flirt. Here, Yor tells him (crying) that she saw him with his "girlfriend" and Loid clarifies it was just a random stranger (it was Nightfall) asking for directions. This is when the real Twiyor moment happens:
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Listen, we could argue that Twilight here was being a liar and trying to fix the situation between them "for the mission", but I choose to believe something different. In my opinion, Twilight was being sincere and he wanted not only to reassure Yor but to pour his heart out and reassure himself. Come on, the man repeated their wedding vows! He was getting carried away (it was too much for our shy Yor) and if it wasn't for Yor punching him out of the Ferris wheel, I think this would have ended in the Twiyor kiss we've all been waiting 😆 (maybe one day!).
Something worth mentioning is that when Twilight and Yor get off the Ferris wheel, Anya reads their minds, but we don't get to know what her parents are thinking 😏 she just smiles and that's how she knows everything is okay between her parents. Little sus, right? I am sure Anya knows what's really going on between those two (read about that here).
This happens again, when Twilight rescues Anya from the kidnappers. We all know Mr. Spy is bad at expressing his emotions, so when he's finally reunited with his daughter, he doesn't show much of anything. Anya hugs him, picks her head up and reads his mind. Just like the last time, we don't get to know what Anya reads inside her papa's mind, but she smiles. Funny how this only happens twice in the movie, in both occasions related to his wife and daughter 🤔
So now, the big question: Is this movie canon?
In this case, every person who sees the movie can form their own opinion about that. In my opinion, since there was no identity reveal nor anything that would change the plot in the manga, I think it's okay to consider it canon. So, until the author says it's not canon, I'm going to consider it part of it.
Overall, it was a fantastic movie, very funny, with plenty of Forger family moments and that something that makes Spy x family so special 💖
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lilystyles · 10 months
Note
For a no strings blurb could you write one about Harry being sick and y/n taking care of him?
delicate.
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a @lilystyles blurb!
my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist
authors note thanku gorgeous anon for requesting! and as someone who has been so sick lately i was so inspired. MWAH!
brief description harry is sick and y/n takes care of him.
warnings! none so fluffyyyyy wordcount (1.4k)
sick!nostrings!h x reader
* * * * *
Harry was a total and utter baby when he got sick. More than the average person, and though it could be annoying at times Y/n found it just as endearing as the rest of his qualities. He was too cute, how could she not?
She'd known this about him for years, and when they became roommates in Uni and she'd taken care of him for two weeks when he had a shocking fever the both of them should've known then they were destined for each other. 
She was reminded of this fact when she got home, Y/n had moved into Harry's house fairly soon after the wedding. It just felt right, and now she'd added all her favourite decor from her flat and it felt a bit like the two of them now. Not just him. There were touches of her all over the house.
Flowers in vases everywhere, her knitted blankets lazily thrown over the couch and chairs, her coffee table, her books, her clothes, her smell, and most importantly her. Harry loved having her living with him again, and it reminded him how much he'd miss having her in his home. Sharing a home.
She called out kicking her shoes off and unbundling her scarf, as she walked inside the lounge room. Normally when she got home Harry was on the couch watching telly, napping, strumming his guitar or cooking. But she heard nothing coming from the kitchen, and he wasn't on the couch. 
"H!" She repeated, curiously. She walked upstairs making her way to the bedroom. Surely he wasn't napping in there.
When she opened the door she found her boyfriend rugged up under the sheets. The only giveaway was his brown curls stuck out and the large Harry-sized lump under the dusty blue almost grey-coloured duvet. She walked over and dropped her purse and keys on the floor. 
"Baby," He rasped out. "Is tha' you?" He asked. He sounded breathless and his voice was hoarse.
She kneeled on the floor so her eyes were level with his. "Hi, my love, are you okay?"
He shook his head, as he squeezed the blanket closer. His teeth chattered. "I'm cold, n' my throat hurts,"
His face was pale in colour, a glisten covering his face, and his eyes had deep purple bags. She leaned closer to him and placed her hand on his forehead. He was boiling. She frowned.
"Gonna check your temp quickly, H." She said walking into their main bathroom in the hallway. She grabbed her first aid box from under the sink and dug around. Eventually, she found the thermometer, and some strong Panadol for him. She walked into the room and when she asked him to open his mouth he groaned softly shifting in the bed. Once the temperature came back it read 39.1°, which meant he had a fever.
She sighed. "Oh, H, you aren't well. Do you want some Panadol?"
He nodded, she popped two pills out of the packet and handed them to him. Before rushing to feed him some water. He gulped them down and swallowed with a grimace. She stroked his arm. 
"I'm gonna make you Mum's soup recipe for you." Y/n's mother was a Chef, she made the best food especially when Y/n was sick. One time during Uni Exams Harry called Y/n's Mum and she came down and visited and made a big batch of her soup and rubbed some weird-smelling cream on Y/n's chest and by the next day she was better, it was like magic in a bowl. Y/n didn't know how but she swore Mum's just had special healing powers.
She stroked his forehead, "And then you can have a bath, and you can try and get some sleep."
He nodded.
Y/n quickly made her way to the kitchen and grabbed all the things she needed. Her Mum had given her a book of recipes and she flipped to the page with the soup. Skimming over the words in her mother's soft cursive handwriting.
Slowly but surely she chopped up all the ingredients. It was mainly fresh herbs and vegetables. She put so much garlic she was sure their breaths would smell for weeks. But it always helped with a sore throat and made her feel better. She added lots of onions, celery, carrots, zucchini, and other vegetables Harry liked. Along with some freshly cooked chicken. She let it stew for a while, as the broth got its flavour.
She had a shower and changed into some pyjamas, combing her hair and applying some sweet-smelling creams to her skin while she worried about her sickly boyfriend.
When she checked on Harry he was fast asleep in their bed curled up on her side, hugging the pillow she slept on. She snuck back She flicked on the telly and sat on the couch while the smell of her wonderful soup filled the big mansion of a house. The telly was on some channel playing old reruns of films everyone's seen a million times. It was playing The Princess Bride. Y/n always used to watch this in bed when she was sick it was perfect because the kid in the beginning was sick too.
She loved this film. She'd seen it enough times to recite the words without thinking. After twenty or so minutes into the film, the soup was ready. She turned the stove off and put some bread in the toaster.
Just as she poured Harry his big bowl and coated his golden brown toast in smooth melting butter, she heard footsteps. He was standing behind her, the knitted blanket off their bed wrapped around him like a cape. He looked awful still, and sleepy. But gosh, was he handsome.
"Hi, Gorgeous." He said softly. His voice was hoarse.
She smiled. "Hi, I was about to bring you dinner."
"Heard the telly. Princess Bride?"
She nodded. 
"Let's watch it."
She followed him with their dinner and they ate together curled up real close, the soup was heavenly and warm. It was so soothing and made Y/n feel like she was a kid again. The toast was crunchy and delicious. She had a few more pieces and a second serving of soup.
Harry grew sleepy toward the climax of the film, his belly full and his clammy body warmed right up. It wasn't long until his head found its way to Y/n's lap. She was rubbing his head softly, her fingers running through his curls. He was asleep not long after her touches and when the film ended she got him up the stairs and put him in a quick bath before bed.
She helped him strip and checked the temperature was warm enough in the bath but not too hot. He hopped in and she sat on the floor beside him, making sure he didn't fall asleep in there. She washed his hair massaging the curls of his hair, and cleaned his body of his sweat. Helping him bathe. His eyes shut in contentment. The steamy water had helped him breathe easier, and her soup was doing wonders. 
When he got out after he was all clean Y/n helped him blow dry his hair quickly. His hands slid onto her hips under the big shirt of Harry's she was wearing and the loose tracksuit bottoms. 
This was love. Taking care of him, and not complaining once. That's how Harry knew she was the one.
Once he was dry she applied that cream to his chest that her mother used to put on hers. It was a mix of all sorts of things. She rubbed it gently over the swallows and moth ink and all along his chest and shoulders. 
"Turn around, I'll put some on your back too, H."
She gently massaged the cream onto his back and he sighed. 
"I love you."
She smiled even though she couldn't see him. "I love you too, Harry."
She picked some fresh comfy pyjamas for him and then they went to bed. The whole night she held him close and soothed him when he woke up in pain. For the next few days, she took care of him and held him however he needed. He eventually got better.
When Y/n woke up with the same flu a few days later, Harry took care of her too. Doing all the same things. Even with a red nose and glossy eyes, and she was coughing up all sorts of gross phlegm, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. 
Harry knew he was going to marry her one day.
BYE LOVE U
303 notes · View notes
koisuko · 5 months
Text
Imagine:
You and Ghost are a happily married couple…sort of.
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Tw: mentions of murder, potential gore, gn reader, toxic relationship, dead dove?, mentions of infidelity, mostly ooc, the names are from a random generator!!
Newly weds, happy and sappy and all that bullshit. Bullshit is all it was to Ghost. You and Ghost were compatible, sure, but sometimes you two become so close it’s borderline obsession. Ghost loves you, as much as you love him, and that terrifies him. To escape this unfortunate feeling, as Ghost puts it, he seeks out others to use and dispose. Something, anything to dull the fear he unwittingly feels deep down. Feelings he barely understands, feelings he’d rather drink himself to death numbing than speak about. Anyone with a brain could see how toxic the duo was, and would likely go to the edge of the earth to convince you two to separate. The both of you were too consumed by one another to leave, and too possessive to even think about letting each other see someone else.
Simon knew you felt the same way. He knew in the way you desperately tried hiding love marks imprinted on your skin. The way you stayed out late some nights under the guise of an “overtime” shift. How you seemed too tired to be intimate. How you shared yourself with someone other than him. His blood nearly boiled at the thought. You were his, and he would do anything to keep it that way. All the little giveaways you both did, unknowingly mirroring each other’s behavior like clones.
Anything was an understatement, evident in the huffs of exertion and long dragging sounds against wet soil. Under the cover of the darkened forest, Simon heaved the black trash bag behind him. Each step caking his boots in mud, masking the evidence of his actions that stained the leather surface. Anyone would likely turn a blind eye, if it weren't for the red liquid trickling down from a torn hole in the plastic. Behind him, trailed along a cloud of guilt and regret, and the stench of death. That gloomy overcast likely to dissipate with the body under the dirt, out of sight, out of mind.
It wasn’t until he noticed a distant figure, somewhat hunched, and headed towards the very spot he had chosen. The silhouette was unsteady and seemed to struggle with the heavy object trailing behind them. Ghost wasted no time in taking cover, slinking into the shadows without a sound. He watched, and waited, patiently, for the prime moment to strike. No witnesses, no regrets. It wasn’t until the person became more clear, and a familiar, “shit,” followed the thud of what appeared to be a body bag. None other than his significant other, carrying a bag just like him, to the same spot picked by him.
“Christ, what the fuck are you doing here?” His gruff voice caused you to jump, whipping around to meet his weathered skull mask face to face. “Me? What are you doing here?” Your attempt to appear confident in your confrontation was sabotaged by the heavy pants leaving your lips. Ghost gave you a scrutinizing squint, leaning to the side slightly to look over your shoulder at the bag on the ground. A normal black trash bag with blood, clumps of hair, and other questionable substances adhering dirt to the plastic. His nose scrunched at the awful odor, much worse than the bag he carried, and much more gruesome looking. “Who is that?” Despite the obvious evidence, and human shape inside the bag, you pulled an act of obliviousness to his question. “What? Who’s who?” Unamused, and slightly irritated, he grabbed his own bag and tossed it at your feet, “Brandon Dorsey, sound familiar?” Your eyes locked with the bag in front of you, remembering the night you slept with him solely to ‘get even’ with Simon. You scoffed, making a feeble attempt to drag yours towards him, “Olivia Marterson, ring any bells?” A smirk played on your lips at his lack of emotion given the circumstance, not a care in the world for the dead beneath him.
Ghost examined the body bag you dropped at his feet, its densely saturated exterior leaving little to the imagination on what was inside. Unlike yours, his bag was more neatly cased with very few stains marring the outside, aside from the blood dripping heavily from the corner — the plastic likely nicked by a tool in the bed of his truck, and a mess he’d unfortunately have to clean later. His bag was much smaller in size than yours, strangely so, and no shape at all to indicate the contents. “Something wrong?” You asked, hoping that maybe your actions somehow irked him, or made him second guess cheating on you. Instead, those deep brown eyes gave nothing away, trailing back up to meet yours, “sloppy work, you should be more careful.” Simon spoke in a deadpan voice, but something about his statement almost felt concerned.
Eventually, the two of you managed to dig a hole in the dirt big enough for both bags to fit side by side. Simon had to help you carry yours over, while you trailed behind him with a look of both defeat and slight irritation. “Thanks,” you’d grumble out, appreciative of him despite your anger. You heaved and grunted, kicking your boot into the back of the shovel and tossing dirt on the bags. By this time, your skin was glossed with sweat, and heart thumping against your ribcage. Finally, the evidence was hidden six feet under, and the smell gone with it. The shovel you used was now anchored into the ground and used as a rest for your exhaustion. “That’s the best hole I’ve ever dug up,” you chimed triumphantly, having puffed out your chest with pride. You glanced over at Ghost beside you, his figure stiff and brooding. “By the way,” you started, “how did you get your bag so small? Mine refused to fold any type of way once the rigor mortis set in.” He turned to walk away, not before answering your question, “butchered, fits better in my truck that way.”
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seramilla · 3 months
Note
In the vaggie Carmilla related au, we already saw Carmilla looking to Vaggie for some sort of comfort, but when was the first time it was Vaggie who looked to Carmilla for comfort? I can't think of a specific situation (Just a generally stressful situation for Vaggie where the first and/or only person she thinks of and wants to seek comfort from is Carmilla), but I just want to see her have her first "I need my mom" moment.
Vaggie doesn't even hesitate to come over the next day when Carmilla asks if she wants to have dinner with herself and the girls. Telling Charlie she's going over for a visit, she kisses the princess goodbye, and books it to Carmilla's in less than 5 minutes. She's become more brave about flying over Pentagram City ever since the wedding was announced...no one would dare shoot Lucifer's daughter's fiancé out of the sky. Not if they wanted to keep their spine.
Carmilla meets her at the door, looking much more cheerful and domestic than Vaggie thinks she's ever seen her. When Carmilla goes in to hug her daughter, Vaggie raises her eyebrow and pushes Carmilla away. The matriarch is wearing a white chef's apron with what looks like blood splatters all over it. When Carmilla notices her staring at it, she laughs heartily. She rubs her large claw over the front of it, and it comes away clean. No blood.
"It's just the pattern," Carmilla says, grinning. "It's a Mother's Day present. Clara thought it was funny. I guess I kind of do, too."
Vaggie sighs and smiles back at her. What a relief! She moves in for a much-needed hug, and Carmilla squeezes her tight, running her hand down the back of Vaggie's head tenderly. She lets her large claws trail through the girl's long hair. Vaggie perhaps keeps her arms wrapped around her mother a little longer than necessary...but Carmilla doesn't protest or try to pull away. Coughing and blushing a little, Vaggie lets go and rubs her arm sheepishly.
"Sorry!" Vaggie apologizes. "Sorry. I just missed you."
"It's okay. Come on in. The girls are setting the table."
The evening's spread is hot tamales, soup, and some vegetables for a side salad. Clara mentions that their mother also got up early that morning to fix some home-made ice cream before work. Vaggie looks over at Carmilla in surprise.
"Mama!" Vaggie says. "I didn't know you could cook!"
Carmilla waves her claw in front of her face in a dismissive gesture. "Oh please. It's nothing special. I let the servants take the day off, so I thought I'd make dinner myself. I also made eggs this morning...it wasn't my best work. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you girls. We don't do that enough."
Vaggie beams inwardly. Before really getting to know Carmilla, she never knew the overlord could be so thoughtful. She digs into her meal wholeheartedly. It's not exactly restaurant quality, or like the stuff Alastor makes for her and the other hotel patrons, but it's good nonetheless. Homely. Authentic. Made exclusively from the heart.
Odette and Clara offer to clean up after dinner. Vaggie thinks that her sisters are trying to give her some alone time with Carmilla. Maybe they can sense the tension she's holding inside. She'd been leaning forward in her chair throughout dinner, with horrible posture, unconsciously trying to make herself appear even smaller than she normally is. Her body language is probably a dead giveaway.
She can't hide from Charlie. She can't hide from Odette, Clara, or Carmilla, either. Maybe that's why Carmilla directs her into the fancy sitting room just off the kitchen. The one with all the comfortable lounge chairs and a sofa, with large, comfy pillows that are so soft, Vaggie practically sinks into them when she sits. Carmilla shuts the large French doors, to close them off from the rest of the house. Vaggie lies down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, and stares at a sparkling chandelier that dangles delicately above her head.
Carmilla lowers the lights in the room. Now the chandelier looks almost ethereal in the way it reflects the light from the dim bulbs. Vaggie can almost pretend like those sparkles reflected onto the ceiling are stars in a night sky. There is something that feels very cosmic and safe about her surroundings. Combined with the scent of Carmilla's potpourri that's scattered around the room, it just smells like her mother. Like how she feels a real home would smell on Earth after returning from a long and stressful day at school or work.
Carmila sits down next to her on the large sofa, putting Vaggie's feet in her lap to make room for herself. Vaggie almost gets up, but Carmilla shoots her a glance that says Don't you dare!
Carmilla leans back casually, with an arm stretched out along the back of the couch, using the furniture as leverage to arch her spine until Vaggie hears a pop! Then Carmilla groans in what can only be described as relief. She grins sheepishly down at her daughter, while Vaggie looks back at her coyly.
"Wow. Impressive," Vaggie chuckles.
"Pardon me. I know I'm dead, but these bones aren't what they used to be."
Vaggie laughs. "It's okay. Anyway...I hope I'm not imposing too much on you by coming over so late."
"Not at all," Carmilla assures her. "You know I love having you over. You said you had something to talk about? What's on your mind?"
Vaggie goes quiet for a moment. She does switch her position on the couch just then, trading her feet in Carmilla's lap for her head instead. She cuddles up into Carmilla, head laying over her thighs, while the matriarch begins running her long claws through Vaggie's hair again.
Vaggie had discovered early on in their new relationship that she loves having Carmilla comfort her in this way. She removes the bow from her hair, the one that Charlie gave her, to allow Carmilla better access. Carmilla cups her whole claw around the back of Vaggie's head, just holding it there, seeing how small the girl's head is in her large hand. Everything about the fallen angel is small. Except her innate kindness, and her indomitable spirit. Those are without measure.
"It's the wedding," Vaggie says, after letting the silence linger a little too long for her comfort. Carmilla resumes petting her hair. "I keep having nightmares about it. Charlie is so excited. And I am, too. But every time I think about it...the closer we get...I'm scared."
"Pre-wedding jitters are normal," Carmilla says matter-of-factly. "When I thought I was going to marry your father, I felt the same thing."
"Well, we know how that turned out," Vaggie teases, looking up at her. Carmilla pokes her side, tickling her, making Vaggie squeal and jump, almost hopping off the couch. "Wait, haha, no! Stop!"
"Don't test me, little girl," Carmilla teases back.
"I would never, Mama."
"Now," Carmilla says, trying to get back on track. "Talk to me. What's really going on?"
Leave it to Carmilla to detect that Vaggie's problem is more than superficial. Her problems are deeply buried, but Carmilla has a way of coaxing them out of her.
"I don't know," Vaggie responds, burying her head back in Carmilla's lap. "I was fine a few weeks ago. But the closer the day gets...the more the reality sets in that this is actually happening...I just worry Charlie is making the wrong decision. To be with me."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I'm just...me. And she's the princess of Hell. She's going to be queen someday. Maybe not for a long time, but still, that scares the fuck out of me. Eternity is a long time to be with someone. What if she gets...bored, or falls out of love with me? Like Lilith and her dad? I don't want that to be us, Mama."
Vaggie sits up. As she'd spoken the words, an overwhelming sense of anxiety had washed over her. Like as soon as her thoughts were out of her brain and let loose into the world, they'd become a living, tangible thing, threatening to gobble her up and swallow her whole.
She leans into Carmilla's side, pushing herself as close as she possibly can to the other woman. She tries her best not to cry. It's very difficult to hold back in Carmilla's presence. There is something so safe, and warm, and secure about the strength in Carmilla's arms as they wrap around her. Something that, despite how much she loves her fiancé, she just can't experience with Charlie.
Is this what a mother's love feels like? The type of steadfastness that can only come from the person who once supported and protected her as she grew in her own body? Who cherished and mourned her potential existence, even when she thought she'd lost Vaggie forever?
Vaggie never had a childhood. Doesn't know what that feeling is like, and doesn't know if she ever will. But she thinks she gets it now, at least. Why children can form such bonds with their caretakers. When that emotional attachment is so strong, nothing else can ever compare or replace it. Vaggie can't believe she had to die to experience some modicum of it, but she's counting her lucky stars now.
"I'm such a terrible partner," Vaggie says, wrapping her arms around Carmilla's waist, and letting the woman return the gesture. "I don't deserve her. I never did. I don't know why I thought this would work."
"Oh, mija, mija," Carmilla repeats, patting her back gently as Vaggie cries into her neck. "It's all right. I know this is a big change for you. Life-altering. But everything will be all right. I've seen the way Charlie looks at you. And when she asked me for my blessing, you should have seen her face. She has nothing but love in her heart. I doubt myself about many things, but please don't doubt me about this. Nothing will ever change the way she feels about you. I promise."
Vaggie hiccups a little, turning her head so she can feel Carmilla's warmth against her cheek. Carmilla wipes the tears falling from her eye. Her claws come away wet and salty, but Carmilla doesn't care.
"How can you possibly know that?" Vaggie asks.
"I'm your mother. I know everything."
Vaggie can't help but laugh a little at that.
Somehow, in some way, even though she's not totally convinced she's not an eternal, cosmically ordained fuck-up of a person, she's relieved that Carmilla, at least, doesn't buy into her bullshit. That she is convinced she and Charlie will work in the long-term is a comfort.
It will probably take Vaggie a long time...if not forever...to get over her own issues about herself. But Charlie...goddammit, Charlie...she loves that woman. More than she can characterize with feelings and more than words in a dictionary could describe. Her love for the daughter of the devil is everlasting. Unexplainable. Beyond the material.
If Carmilla belives it...hopefully she can. Someday. Preferably on the day that she says "I do." But if it doesn't come later, she will live vicarously through Charlie and Carmilla's combined faith in her. Their strength will see her through.
"I love you, Mama," Vaggie says, hugging Carmilla tighter.
"I love you, too, my baby," Carmilla responds, giving her daughter a lingering peck on the forehead.
Vaggie decides to spend the night again. She wants to talk to Carmilla more. About the wedding, and about other things. When she returns to Charlie the following day, she feels lighter, and more confident, than she's felt in a while.
She doesn't dream that night. No nightmares, or intrusive thoughts at all. Just a wonderful sense of wholeness, and a renewed vigor the following day, that she desperately needed. There's only a few days left until the ceremony. They have a lot of work to do, and seemingly not enough time to do it.
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f1crecs · 3 months
Text
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Fic Rec List - Action AUs (Giveaway Winner Post)
if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍
have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.
don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!
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hi @onboardsorasora thank you SO MUCH for your request, and congratulations again for winning the giveaway ❤️ we are so sorry that this took such a long time to get to you... unfortunately the mod team have been rather busy with all sorts of things: wedding planning and driving lessons and travelling abroad and writing copious amounts of smut. we hope this was worth the wait ❤️
Daniel/Max
nsfw: I struck a match and blew your mind by @33max | Not Rated | 4.1k
Max is a getaway driver and starts to work with Daniel on jobs. I loved the pacing of this fic. There's so much detail and progress within this and the author really did a great job of picking which parts to highlight for the plot progression. I loved Max's commitment to Daniel.
“I am, I promise. I think it’s just a broken rib or two.” Daniel says, and his hand comes up to squeeze Max’s shoulder from the backseat. There is blood on his knuckles. “C’mon Maxy, be a good boy and get us out of here.” So Max does. He gets them out of there, but he feels sick. Not because they almost got caught, but because he knows that if Daniel really had needed to go to the hospital he would not have been able to leave him there. He would have let them both get caught over leaving Daniel alone and hurt on a hospital doorstep.
nsfw: strangers by bloodmoonforme | E | 37.9k
Daniel, a detective, is on a not-quite-dead-end murder case when they bring in Max from out of state to help him solve it. They have history and havent seen each other in four years. I loved the tone in this so much. The author has a very coherent narrative that build just right, its really intriguing. I also love how the reader almost solves the case too. Not only the murder case, but the /what happened to Max and Daniel/ case that gets revealed throughout. Its a truly well written fic with a lot of action and feelings!
He gets up, his stomach feeling heavier and colder by the second. There's something creeping all the way from his fingers, up his arms and to his belly, a prickly sick thing. Then he looks towards the center of the room, marked by a well-worn rug. Daniel stands there, alone in Esther’s bedroom, standing in the half-light. He's there, and suddenly he’s not.
nsfw: Bite Down and Taste Red by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 46.5k
Max works in a bar, and Daniel is the Mafia Boss who keeps buying drinks. This story is absolutely captivating - from beginning to end, it is so beautifully written and paced, with just enough angst to make things truly delicious. Daniel is so much fun here - hot and charismatic and so very head over heels for his bartender!
He finds out that Max speaks several languages, and he’s from a place called Hasselt, which means absolutely nothing to Daniel. He’d looked it up later, on the map on his phone, squinting at it. Compared with the US, its miniscule. He can’t imagine Max being born in a place so small. When Max is so – much.
Carlos/Lando & Daniel/Max
i'll race you for pinks by @chubbydinosaur | M | 30k
Lando is brought on to a heist by professional criminal, Carlos. Sparks fly. This story is such a fun ride - as always, this author perfectly balances humour, emotion, and high stakes action, and it makes for a thrilling read. Lando is so disarmingly charming in this - I adored him!
Daniel/Lando
til the bone crush by @clementiaes | T | 19k
Pacific Rim is perfect for Formula 1 AUs, and this is one of my favourite examples. Daniel and Lando are paired as Jaeger pilots. Both are coming off of other drift partners with baggage - Daniel from Max after Max’s career ending injury, and Lando from something that could have been a relationship with Carlos, had Lando’s insecurities not buried it before it started. Lando is prickly, closed-off and miserable at the start of this story, convinced he is unlovable. This story is about him gently and gradually being opened up to the realisation that people love him, and that he deserves to be loved.
The point is, no one is getting tired of you any time soon,” Daniel says. “Seriously, who even told you that?” Lando looks down at his hands, picking at a hangnail. “No one. I just — I know I’m not easy to get along with.” Daniel frowns. “You deserve to be happy,” he says, finally. “You know that, right?” Lando looks down at his knees. “Look at me, Lando,” Daniel says, but Lando doesn’t. His shoulders are starting to creep back up near his ears again. Daniel’s moving before he quite knows what he’s doing. He gets one hand on Lando’s shoulder and one on his chin, turning his face so that he’ll look at him. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide, but to Daniel’s surprise, he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t know how you got it into your head that you’re like, unlovable, or something, but it’s not true,” Daniel says. “Really. You think you can believe that for me?”
Charles/Sebastian
He Is All, And He Is More by @effervescentdragon | M | 15k
In this AU of The Old Guard, Sebastian and Charles are immortals that meet on the battlefield during the Crusades. They kill one another over and over, until they reach a tentative understanding. Their relationship deepens over the centuries. It can be difficult to write characters as ancient and make them feel ancient, and Akira really does. I love the tentative way they negotiate one another, and the understanding they gradually come to. Battlefield enemies to lovers is quite the relationship arc.
"And if we only met a thousand of years from now, you would still be wearing red.” “Why?” Sebastian shrugs, a grin evident in the dark. “Your red string dictates it. Fate, or something. Destiny. Red suits you. You look good in red.” Charles bites his tongue. “So do you.”
Lewis/Nico/Sebastian
on golden sands by sionisjaune | T | 6.2k
Lewis Hamilton is planning the heist of the century and he wants Sebastian Vettel on his team. The target - Baron Nico Rosbergs car collection. Sounds simple on paper but reality never is. Oceans Eleven heist!au. Who doesnt love a good heist!au? This author writes some of my favourite sebcedes, the characterisations are spot on and the vibes are at turns wholesome and rancid. Perfection in a fic!
Rosberg greets Seb at the gate, behind the windshield of a pale blue Bentley. The paint job sparkles in the golden sunlight, and the hood ornament gleams chrome. The gates roll open at his whim with an ear-splitting, metallic sound. Rosberg beckons animatedly from behind the wheel, and Seb gets the message that he should leave his car and join Rosberg in the Bentley for the ride up to the house. […] Before Seb can slide into the passenger's side of the Bentley, Rosberg has to shoo a pudgy English bulldog into the backseat. It clambers, ungainly, over the console and waddles into the back, collapsing in a happy, wrinkly lump on the leather seats. “Who’s this?” Seb asks, watching long strings of drool ooze from the dog’s flabby mouth onto the pristine interior of Rosberg’s classic Bentley. Seb once saw an R-type Bentley much like this one go for two and a half million at auction. “This is Roscoe,” says Rosberg, long-sufferingly. “The result of an unfortunate affair.”
Charles/Pierre
Hic Svnt Leones by @cerona10 | M | 32.6k
Charles is different to how Pierre remembers him. The world-building in this fic is second to none - it’s absolutely stunning! The world feels so full and alive, and it’s easy to get completely sucked in. The way they build in exposition is so clever and natural feeling, and the action is exhilirating and fun to read. Perfect!
His shadow isn’t his own, not anymore. It shakes and shimmers, fighting against its own shape. His shadow’s head twists and breaks before mending itself into that of a horse, neighing and trashing, a single horn jutting out from its forehead. Its jaw unhinges and it begins breathing heavily, drool escaping its mouth like a waterfall.
Fernando/Lance
nsfw: Venus Flytrap by @pitconfirm | E | 25.7k (wip)
Professional criminal Fernando Alonso is recruited for a job. His mission: seduce Lance Stroll. This fic is RED HOT. From the very first few sentences, Fernando exudes this confidence that is so much fun to read. Contrasted with Lance - pouty, privileged, and surprisingly vulnerable - the dynamics are gorgeous. This author is so fantastic at dialogue and pacing, and this fic flows so beautifully. I can't wait to read more!
Once they reach the games room, it’s easy to spot him among the crowd. For the past few days, Fernando has been memorising every freckle on Lance’s skin. He could recognise him from just the curl of hair on his tender nape, but the most striking thing about Lance is his demeanour—elbows rested on the roulette table while he boredly holds his head in his hands, huffing in disappointment when he loses again. His carelessness stands out starkly against the opulent golden trims and old paintings covering every wall. A boy like Lance doesn’t belong in a place like this, but money talks.
nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 18.8k (wip)
Fernando is the Mafia boss who owns the club that Lance Stroll - son of his biggest rival - wanders into. This story is SO HOT. The tension between them is palpable, and they bounce off each other so well. You get the feeling that both of them are underestimating each other, and it makes for so much delicious tension. Amazing!
There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.
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cheritzteam · 1 year
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[MM] Announcement on the Birthday Event for the Twins, 2023 June
Hello, this is Cheritz.
Did you enjoy your spring picnic with the members? 
The members were very happy to have you there, and we hope you had a great time too.
It seems like just yesterday it was chilly, but with higher temperatures and more sunshine, summer is just around the corner. 
With the arrival of summer comes not only the heat, but also the rainy season, which brings humid and wet days.
So, why don't you enjoy the hot weather now? 🙂
We hope you didn't forget about the returning birthday that’s coming back with summer!
June 11, the birthday of the twin brothers!
To celebrate their birthday, the brothers are coming to Twitter to share their childhood with us.
They're also curious about your childhood stories. 
Are you ready to share your story with them? 
Check out the announcement below to learn more! 😉
< ① Twin Birthday Event: Their Past, and Present with You >
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Cherished memories of siblings made on secret outings, and memories of today that will be cherished for years to come.
Listen to the young twin brothers' memories, help them create a fun memory of today, and share your own childhood stories with the twins!
*A mini side story related to the event will be released on June 7 on our Twitter account (@cheritz_msg_bot).
Share your childhood story with us on social media using the hashtag #MM_Twins_And_My_Growth_Record, and try your chances to win 300 ⌛ hourglasses! 
We're also celebrating the twins' birthday with a bonus giveaway!
Use the hashtag #Happy_Birthday_707 or #Happy_Birthday_Saeran to wish them a happy birthday, and try your chances to win 50 hourglasses⌛ as a reward!♥
Last but not least, we're having a birthday sale on some 707 and Saeran merchandise
so if you've been hesitant to purchase, please take advantage★ of this opportunity!
Cheritz Market discounted period : June 7th(Wed), 2 PM - June 14th(Wed), 2 PM (KST)
< ② Game-Access Event >
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If you access the game during the event below, you'll see a commemorative title image for the twins’ birthday! Enjoy the game with the new title image and wish them a happy birthday.
Title Illustration : June 7th(Wed) - June 20th(Tue) (KST)
Did you enjoy the announcement of the June events?
Thank you in advance for participating in the birthday event with the twins.
We hope you're healthy and happy in the upcoming summer!
Thank you!
Cheritz.
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aaweddingzine · 1 year
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💍 SHARE CAMPAIGN
HOLD IT! 💐 We need YOUR HELP with one last piece of wedding prep!
Share THIS POST on Twitter, Insta, and Tumblr to unlock more merch, with the potential of unlocking a FULL ACE ATTORNEY WEDDING ZINE GIVEAWAY if we reach all 3!
💍 CAMPAIGN RULES
You'll find this exact post on all three of our social media platforms: Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr. It's this post you'll need to interact with for the share campaign.
Each social media site has a different share milestone and a different reward!
💍 CAMPAIGN REWARDS
💐25 comments on Instagram unlocks an exclusive sticker 💐100 retweets on Twitter unlocks an exclusive magnet 💐 75 reblogs on Tumblr unlocks ANOTHER exclusive sticker
Any campaign rewards will be included FREE with all PHYSICAL bundles!
💍 FULL ZINE GIVEAWAY
If we reach ALL THREE share campaign goals across all three social media sites, then we'll unlock a FULL ZINE GIVEAWAY!
Sound breathtaking? Start Tweeting, Reblogging, and Commenting away so we can wrap up this last piece of wedding prep with a bow! 🎀
Just now discovering this gorgeous and stunning Ace Attorney Wedding Zine? Don't worry, it's not too late to say "I do"! 💒 CLICK HERE TO VISIT OUR STORE AND SEE ALL OF OUR AVAILBLE BUNDLES YOU CAN PREORDER! 💒
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Thank you for the support! 💐 @aafancalendar @zinesunlimited @zinefeed @zineforall @zinefans @zineapps @fandomzines @all-zine-apps
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Note
stephy bephy baby baby girl, um
any list noone asked for yet but you have?
ASFSADF I LOVE when y'all use silly names for me!
You KNOW I do!! Here's today's that been in my drafts for a few months! Enjoy!!
Please note that because so many of these fics are from my old lists, they will be FFNet links, so if you have them on AO3, let me know, but otherwise let me know if any links don't work.
POV SHERLOCK 3rd PERSON Pt. 4: ANGST / ANGSTY FLUFF or BAMF FICS Pt. 2
See also:
POV Sherlock 1st & 2nd Person
POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt. 1: Fluff
POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt 2: Hurt/Comfort & Whump
POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt 3: Angst/Angsty Fluff or BAMF Fics
Voices by fizzingweaselbee (T, 607 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Mental Turmoil, Suicidal Ideations) – "We would never do that to John Watson."
The Hollow Man by HHarris (G, 639 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Chair, Introspection, Sherlock’s Big Feelings™, Post TRF, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, POV Sherlock, Pining / Sad Sherlock) – Still reeling from the apparent loss of his one and only friend, Sherlock returns to 221B for the first time after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.
Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...
Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”
The Other Shoe by thewaitwasworthitlove (NR, 1,053 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst, URT, Post-TSo3) - Sherlock realizes how deep in love he has fallen for John. Only Sherlock Holmes would manage to be more shattered than crystal dropped on concrete.
The Signs of Loss by LitLocked (NR, 1,103 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, Pining Sherlock, Self Reflection, Implied Drug Use, Angst, Hard Pining, Hurts Like Hell) – Sherlock's internal monologue after he comes back from the wedding.
Ode to a Well-Worn Chair by hogwartswitch (G, 1,274 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, John’s Chair, Angst, Love Confessions, Mind Palace) – Takes place the night Sherlock left John's wedding early. Why did he move John's chair and where did he move it?
Left In The Ashes by zoltargirl (T, 1,497 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, MCD, Angry Sherlock, Brutal Violence) – Rage is a unique quality in all human beings. In Sherlock Holmes, it's terrifying.
The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.
Giveaway Fic #9 - Angsty Sick Fic/Sherlock is Sick by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 1,734 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Hypothermia) – The next time he awakens is even more chaotic. Two doctors are shouting at each other in the corner, and John is holding his hand so tightly Sherlock is worried he’ll break it. Part 9 of 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics
BBCSH 'Poor Mary' by tigersilver (M, 1,839 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Missing Scene, Sherlock POV) – As the tin says above, this is a missing scene, set directly after Sherlock awakens in hospital after having been shot by his best mate's wife. Minor angst, some pining, nothing nasty; please don't be alarmed unduly.
Dying Changes Everything by whitchry9 (K+, 1,919 w., 1 Ch || Sherlock POV, Suicidal Ideation, Near-Death, Hospital, Sherlock Whump, Gunshot, Unhappy/Ambiguous Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – Sherlock is having an existential crisis and wants to have a near death experience like John did to gain some perspective. “Shoot me John!” he insisted, gesturing to himself. John just looked at him. “Are you completely mad?” 
L'Esprit D'Escalier by TheSoulOfAStrawberry (K, 2,011 w., 1 Ch. || Ace Sherlock, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Pining) – A lack of understanding leads to a misunderstanding, which in turn leads to two confused men dealing with something they should have sorted out earlier, rather than on John's wedding day.
Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) –  “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that. 
The Deafening Silence by occasionally-maybe-never (T, 2,238 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Major Character Death, Post-TRF) – 'Sherlock hopes fiercely that John can hear him, as sometimes coma patients can. He knows that John will understand, that his admission of love isn't a grand, sweeping romantic statement, but simply an expression of truth.' When Mycroft retrieves Sherlock to bring him home, it's not to John having dinner, but to John on his death bed.
BBCSH 'How To Save A Life' by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of 'first kiss' fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock's nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of 'How To...'
In My Life (and dreams, you take my breath away) by Nina36 (NR, 2,847 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF/TEH, Angst, Pining Sherlock) – The first time he had dreamt about John he had been in Peru. He had been “dead” a little over a month, squatting in a tiny rented room, the heat and the stains on the walls making him slightly claustrophobic. It had been a nice dream: John and he eating take away Chinese in their kitchen, a song coming from Mrs. Hudson’s radio downstairs, something about friends and lovers and how no one compared with him, his mind supplied in his dream.
Museums and Laboratories by RhododendronPonticum (T, 3,004 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, Obsessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Separation Anxiety, Doctor John, Co-Dependent Sherlock) – If Sherlock's kitchen was his laboratory, then his bedroom was his museum.
It Wasn't Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation, Come as Lube) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.
Anticlockwise (Ask Time) by TheBookshelfDweller (G, 3,752 w., 1 Ch. || Metaphorical, Angst, Time, Unhappy Ending) – "Let me tell you the truth: Sherlock Holmes cannot beat Time." Time only flows in one direction, and we are stranded in it, carried by currents we mostly never notice are whirling around us. No one can walk backwards along the timeline, and maybe that’s for the best, because what if someone could? Where would they go? Or, better say, to when would they go? Most importantly who would they leave behind (or is it ahead)? In the end, despite the truth, Sherlock Holmes decides to fight Time, for John, for himself - for himself with John.
Bolt Holes by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,177 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Angst, Drug Mentions, Pining Sherlock) – John asked, one evening, if Sherlock liked her. To which he grudgingly had to say yes, and John said he was glad. Because John was going to propose to her.
But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night, Sad Ending) – “You. It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”
In Good Hands by Haelia (K+, 4,384 w., 1 Ch. || Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump) – John and Sherlock are stranded deep in the wilderness with no phones and no foreseeable escape. With John wounded, Sherlock fears they will die here: in the cold, in the damp, in the woods. 
London's Ghost by JustlikeWater (K+, 5,642 w., 1 Ch. || Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-TRF AU, Sherlock POV) – "Today, it's been weeks since Sherlock died. Other times, years. He doesn't know for sure, though. Time passes differently for the dead" 
Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w., 1 Ch. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock's cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock's recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.
I'll Be Fine by whitchry9 (T, 6,473 w., 21 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, John Whump, Friendship, MCD, Heavy Angst) – John says he'll be fine, and Sherlock believes him. Until he can't any more. And it's awfully hard to forgive John for lying about something big like that, even if he didn't mean to. Not using warnings because spoilers, but there are some. 
The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.
Not Alone by taliapaxton (K+, 7,034 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, MCD, Euthanasia) – Alone on the Water from Sherlock's point of view. Inspired by the wonderful fiction, "Alone on the Water"
Until I See the Sun by Vintage Tea Party (T, 8,194 w., 3 Ch. || Nightmares, Mild Whump, Friendship, Mild Violence, Angst) – After a particularly dangerous case, John suffers from night terrors. Will Sherlock be able to comfort him? Will he be able to find out what is really troubling John? 
Made for You by Raxicoricofallapatorious (K, 8,440 w., 1 Ch. || Android AU || Friendship, Sci-Fi, Sherlock Called Freak) – When John was shot in the shoulder he was decommissioned and his memory and personality was wiped. Sherlock was given the blank droid and he quickly learns that this droid is more than it seems. John just so happened to come back and no one can fathom how or why. Johnlock if you squint.
The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Ghost AU || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.
Johnlock Ficlet Collection by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 11,505+ w. [WiP] || Random Ficlets, Pining, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Parentlock, AU’s, First Kiss, Character POV’s) - Just a collection of Johnlock ficlets, originally posted on my Tumblr page.
A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w. , 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."
The Nutcracker by Odamaki (T, 13,758 w., 7 Ch. || Nutcracker AU ||  Christmas, Dark Magic, Dolls) – Sherlock is unimpressed with Uncle Rudy's present. A doll? What does he want with a doll?
The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.
Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.
A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.
A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.
The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...
The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.
The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.
A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.
You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.
Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.
Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.
The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series
Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}
Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it's supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken
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