#((she still wanted to bring him comfort after she was gone as well as provide him with a little nudge out the door))

[spooklies]

# Legacy

♡ ... › Yandere Ethan Winters as your Father

— Warning(s): childbirth death. slight manipulation of a child(?). stalking. things will get worse after this.

♡ ... › Written in HC format

— Part I - Part II

— His obsession with his child began the moment he learned his beloved wife was pregnant.

His mind went rampant with the possibilities of who his child would become and the kinds of traits they’d inherit from the both of them. Would they have hair like his? Or would their hair turn out to be more like their mothers? He was hoping they’d inherit their mother’s beautiful one of a kind smile, a blessing for everyone who happened to come into contact with them.

But Ethan knows that no matter what his child turns out to look like, he’d love them unconditionally because they were just as much his as he was theirs.

— The months leading up to your birth was like living through a real life fairytale.

Ethan was determined to make each day better than the last and he started doing that by showering his wife and unborn child with as much affection as possible. That started with making his meals more extravagant. While the meals he cooked didn’t even begin to compare to the restaurants he insisted he and his wife go to whenever they had free time, the gesture was still well-received and as the saying goes, “Happy wife, happy life!”

Ethan during this time researched which foods would benefit his pregnant wife and which ones she should steer clear of. While he may have come off as controlling initially, he’d managed to convince his wife that this was for the benefit of not only her, but their unborn child as well.

After all, he wanted nothing but the best for his two favorite people in the whole wide world.

—  Despite how cautious they were, there were things they couldn’t avoid.

His wife had become sick. Sicker than he’d ever seen her before. And after the doctors warned them about the possibility of losing their child it took all of Ethan’s willpower not to break down right after his wife had. 

They’d been told that the pregnancy posed a serious risk and that the possibility of death was in the higher percentages.

Ethan did everything he could, now going above and beyond to ensure his wife’s last months of pregnancy was as comfortable as possible despite the grim conclusions each doctor gave them after each appointment.

There had to be something he could do. There had to be. He couldn’t lose his family, he loved them too much and it would be unfair if he lost them right as their family was just beginning.

— The beginning of his child’s life would ultimately bring about the end of another.

Ethan never blamed his child for the death of their mother nor would he ever dare to. What happened was entirely out of their control and he hoped someday he could explain that to them as he was sure there would be a form of guilt over the absence of their mother.

As he held them in his arms he could no longer contain the tears he’d fought with so valiantly to keep at bay. You were perfect – everything he’d imagined you to be and more. 

— Ethan loved to spoil his child rotten.

Much like he did with his wife when she’d been pregnant with them, Ethan made sure to feed his kid the best of foods his salary could afford and to provide them with whatever toys they made grabby hands at whenever they walked through the toy aisle. 

Only the best for his baby, after all.

— As a result of grief, Ethan became overprotective of his child after a while.

While already protective of his child, it had quickly begun to spiral after he’d caught them crawling way too close to the stairs without the safety gate being properly latched. In that moment he picked them up with a gasp, holding them close to his chest with tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he began to imagine the worst outcome becoming reality.

He couldn’t lose them, he’d already gone through that grief once before with the loss of his wife and it would have drowned him completely if it weren’t for his wife’s legacy keeping him afloat. 

— When his child began to grow older, he made sure to monitor what it was they watched and came off as strict as a result.

If he hears one bad thing about a show they liked to watch from another parent, or possible rumors about his baby’s show being a bad influence for the youth, then the show or movie would be banned in its entirety. If there were paraphernalia laying around the house then that would be thrown out just as swiftly. 

“I’m sorry baby, don’t cry. You know I only want the best for you.”

— Ethan became paranoid of other people, not trusting anyone with his baby.

When it neared the years for his baby to start daycare he worried himself sick over how well his kid would do when put with others their age. He would tell his kid to tell him if any of the other kids ever bothered them, and that if they ever hurt them then he’d make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

All his kid did was laugh, agreeing to tell him if another kid bothered her. And, well, as a kid a lot of things happened to bother them. From not wanting to share your toys to not liking how you were tagged during the game called, ‘tag’. 

Really, he should’ve known better. But it was better to be safe than sorry he reasons. Not every kid went without a mother, so he was waiting for the days his kid would ask him what happened to their mother. He’d already shown them pictures, but they’d never had much of an interest in learning about them. He hoped that would change as they grew older.

— Ethan liked to keep his child by his sides at all times.

More often than not the two of them were falling asleep next to each other or with his child resting comfortably in his arms as he did his best not to fall asleep so he could see the end of their movie/show. 

And when in public Ethan held onto their hand at all times, not daring to let go of their hand for a second with the fear of them wandering off somewhere he couldn’t see them or worse, far enough for them to get snatched.

— Ethan was hardly ready for his child’s time away from home to increase.

At daycare, he only had to be away from his child for a few hours. He’d signed up for the half-day schedule, meaning he was able to pick them up the moment it turned noon. But with the year ending just as fast as it had begun, that had also meant his child’s longer days of school.

He just wanted his baby to stay home all the time. To be beside him as he worked from home, or to help him cook as much as he allowed them to after careful consideration of how dangerous the kitchen is for a toddler. 

Whenever his child was away from home for too long the silence was maddening. He’d keep himself grounded with pictures and videos he’d taken at every milestone of his child’s life so far. From when they’d said their first words, “Dada!”, and when they’d first started to crawl. His favorite video so far was when they’d taken their first steps, the recording showing them walking towards him with a giant smile on their face, waiting to be picked up the moment they finished their short and wobbly journey. 

Everything was recorded.

— His baby’s first real day of school was bittersweet.

It was one thing sending them off to daycare, but entirely something else walking them to their classroom and introducing himself to his child’s teacher. He’d already done a background check of sorts, learning her history as a teacher, possible scandals, and later he’d trail her home to see what kind of home life she lived to ensure he wasn’t sending his kid off to some abuser of children. 

He’d done the same to the daycare assistants his child had previous to this year, and he’d continue to do so going forward. 

He drew the line when it came to other children and their parents, only feeling the need to if he hears word about a kid giving his kid trouble. 

— There’s no such thing as “being too careful” in Ethan’s eyes. 

Ethan prided himself at how well he managed his kids’ life so far. But sometimes he worried he’d been sheltering his kid too much. And in those moments he’d ask himself what his late wife would have done differently, if there was anything she would have done differently. But without her being around anymore to knock some sense into his spiraling mind, he’d continue to do just that – spiral.

And as his kid grew older, so did his need for control.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil x reader #platonic yandere #yandere ethan winters #platonic yandere ethan winters #platonic yandere x reader #yandere father #yandere headcanons #resident evil headcanons

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (4)

(Part 1 / Part 2: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7)

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Oof, I'm really nervous with my portrayal of the mystery woman in red, but hopefully it makes for a good read. Also, a word of caution on some medical horror lying in wait.

AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Red

The deal with the scientist would go down early in the week, on the day after your performance. Bergmann had requested for you to accompany Leon, much to his chagrin. As always, your handler relished in the game of politics, wanting to make life a little more difficult for the golden boy, just because she could. It was petty, but she had always done her job well, so no one really questioned her methods. If there was one thing Germany was well-known for, it was red tape - a lot of it. Bergmann used that as an excuse to get you to keep an eye on him. This ensured that it wasn’t just the US side setting the agenda, and she would earn her place of glory if the mission was successful. It had to be.

Ever since the dreadful confession you had with Leon, you focused on the lead up to the performance, distancing yourself from the man as much as you could. Each question he had was met with curt, one-word answers. You completed your reports and handed them in without a word. The actions you took seemed to cause him visible pain, as if a brick wall was cracking bit by bit. You picked up on the nuances in his body language, especially whenever you shunned him. The way his eyes flickered when he stared at you, emptying out like a hollowed shell as he pressed his lips together in a taut line.

On the day of your performance, he wished you good luck, repeating the same words he had slipped you on a note back in high school. “You got this.” A timid smile formed on his face, unsure of how you’d react, but carrying a small glimmer of hope. 

Until then, you had barely acknowledged his presence, but now you retaliated with a look of revulsion. How dare he play with your feelings? 

“You’ve got some nerve,” you spat, turning on your heel and slamming the door on your way out, without waiting for his reply.

That night, as everyone was busy preparing for the show’s premiere, Leon had taken advantage of the diversion to do a reconnaissance of the place, based on the details you had provided to him. Channeling the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through into your movements, you danced through Silje’s latest creation, ‘The Rite’, a piece about passion, sacrifice and death. It almost felt like a ritual or secret initiation, as you rolled through the earth scattered on the stage set, muddied and stripped down like an animal, before being forced into a red dress by your co-dancers and given up as an offering to the gods.

The end of the performance was met with a resounding applause and multiple encores, as Silje came on stage to receive the customary bouquet of flowers, which she handed over to you. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders, as you made your way backstage to wipe the dirt off your face and look presentable again. You did it. In spite of all the trials and tribulations, you made it here as Silje’s star. But even then, it still felt like something was amiss. 

Sighing, you exited the stage doors to enter the foyer, where you greeted the theater patrons and other important people along with your fellow dancers. From the corner of your eye, you spotted someone you recognized - a tall, young man, with his dark raven hair slicked back with wax. He was impeccably dressed in a suit that you assumed was personally tailored to him, and exuded elegance as he made a beeline towards you. Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, you’d forgotten he would be here. He never missed any of Silje’s shows.

“What a performance!” He exclaimed, his radiant smile causing his eyes to crinkle with joy. Cupping his hands over yours, he gave them a squeeze. “You were wonderful as always.”

“Mikkel?” You tried to feign happiness in seeing him, as a tinge of disappointment overcame you. No matter how much you tried to snuff out the burning desire within, you wished it was someone else. Someone whom you’d rather leave in the past.

“It’s so good to see you,” he remarked genuinely.

Suddenly, as if he had a knack for showing up at the most inopportune times, you heard Leon’s rugged voice. “There you are.”

You didn’t face him, but you could tell that he seemed a little out of breath. “I managed to catch the last of it. You were amazing.” His hand hovered just over the small of your back, wanting to touch you, but knowing he couldn’t.

Mikkel flashed him a puzzled look. “Mikkel.” He extended his hand. “And you are…?”

“Leon.” It sounded tense and pinched, as he ignored the offer for a handshake.

You stepped in to interject before anymore damage could be done. “He’s, um, an old friend from the States,” you explained, nodding between the two of them awkwardly.

“Visiting?” Mikkel questioned.

“You could say that,” Leon muttered, in a tone that showed the initial signs of irritation.

Mikkel appeared to have perceived this and instead focused his attention on you. “Well, actually, I have been meaning to ask you,” he began mindfully. “If you would like to follow up on where we left off that night?”

You felt the temperature around you drop to a negative value, as his words hung in the air in deafening silence.

“Maybe we could… discuss this another time?” You suggested meekly. God, you were terrible at letting people down.

“I’m sure now is as good a time as any,” Leon interrupted tersely. You could feel the accusing glares he was throwing your way. “Wouldn’t want to keep Mikkel here hanging, right?”

For the first time since the conversation started, you turned towards him, giving him a warning glance. “Leon.”

He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing you with a bold defiance in his eyes.

“Sorry, uh- I’ll call you or something,” you mentioned rather noncommittally to Mikkel, as you dragged Leon away from the foyer.

Once you were certain you were out of earshot, you threw your hands up in vexation. “Seriously, what the fuck?” You hissed. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Oh, you mean the recon part? Yeah, done and dusted,” he scoffed, aware that you were purposely avoiding the subject.

“You know, it’s pretty rich of you to give me the silent treatment, when you seem to have moved on yourself,” he admonished.

So, he saw this as a competition? You shook your head disparagingly. “Mikkel was a date that never went anywhere. Unlike your mystery woman,” you pointed out. “Happy now?”

His features relaxed, though he noted self-deprecatingly, “You could have a normal life with him.”

What he said confused you to no end, on the one hand indicating that it would be better to be with another man, yet at the same time not wanting you to.

“And what if I don’t want a normal life?” You retorted, backing away from Leon as you spoke, making it clear that the talk was over. “Listen, I don’t have time to argue with you about this. I’m needed backstage.”

“Hey, wait-”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. “You should go, Leon, before Silje sees you.” Leaving him with that piece of advice, you parted ways.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Back in the dressing room, you found yourself alone with Silje, who beamed at you with pride. “I knew you would pull through.”

Picking up a dark, champagne bottle by her side on the table, she tipped it into a flute glass, handing it over to you encouragingly. The sparkly liquid was mesmerizing, as if flecks of gold reflected along its surface. You’d never seen a color quite like it.

“It’s the most sought after one we have,” she articulated with an alluring timbre. “For special occasions.”

You took the glass, still enthralled by its contents, placing it to your lips as you drank the champagne unquestioningly. It tasted like a sweet nectar, warm and heady as it flowed down your throat and coursed through your veins. A brilliant light dazzled you and it felt like your body was vaporizing into the atmosphere. Then, you heard Silje’s voice in slow motion from the background, “Congratulations, my child…”

When you awoke, you found yourself back in your bed with no memory of how you got there. Your mind was reeling and you felt extremely groggy and unsteady, to the point where you were unable to shift yourself up to a sitting position on the mattress. 

What on earth was in that drink? You wondered if you had taken too much by accident. Maybe Silje brought you home when you passed out.

Disregarding any further thoughts, you decided that it would be best to find sleep, as you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. But even within the throes of sleep you couldn’t find respite, because the dreams came soon after.

You were walking through darkened corridors. There was hardly any light source, except for a blue luminous sheen that coated every surface, as if you were on an alien planet. Feeling the concrete walls with your hands to guide the way, you eventually came to rest in front of a set of crimson doors. Leaning your entire weight against them, they screeched as you pushed them open, the force causing you to stumble into a room that was enveloped in a thick smog. The cover was so dense that you couldn’t see anything else beyond it and it was getting harder to breathe. 

Gradually, you began to succumb to a sort of tranquil unconsciousness. Then, you found yourself lying on a cold, metallic surface, and each time you opened your eyes, you made out vague figures of medical staff surrounding you. Surgical instruments, petri dishes and test tubes lined the counters near the table. As you couldn’t hold your eyes open for long, the images appeared like vignettes. One of the staff members in scrubs inserted a strange device with a thin needle into your vagina. The frigidity of it caused you to wince, and you felt a light suction tugging at you from within. Once they had finished with the procedure, they whisked the fluids and material away. You couldn’t scream, you didn’t have an urge to - everything felt so comfortable and numb.

The next moment, you heard the distant wail of a baby that got closer and closer, until it seemed like it was directly at the side of your ear. Twisting your head in the source of the crying, a child-like silhouette covered in a substance resembling tar crawled on the ground towards you, squelching with each movement and leaving black imprints in its wake. There were remnants of an eye and tufts of hair peeking out from beneath the slimy substance. Despite its grotesque shape, you felt a sense of connection to it, wanting to reach out and embrace it in your arms. When it was only inches away from you, your eyes snapped shut and you faded into oblivion.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Rousing yourself out of a deep slumber, you were startled to find that you were back at the dressing room of the theater, where you had celebrated with Silje yesterday evening. You immediately checked under your clothes for any signs that you had been operated on against your will, but found none.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed out loud as panic set in. You were running late for the meeting between Leon and the scientist. It didn’t take much for you to put aside the weird dream you had the night before. After all, there were far more important things to worry about right now, and there was a logical explanation for what had happened. You probably went a little overboard with the drinking and then fell asleep at the theater. It wouldn’t have been the first time this had happened either. The company had a tendency to revel in successful premieres.

Rushing over to the location you had been given, you met Leon’s stern gaze as he got out of the car he had been waiting in outside of the abandoned warehouse. He tapped on the window, indicating for the driver to do a couple of rounds before heading back to avoid suspicion.

“Partied too hard?” He questioned snippily, while making his way inside the place.

You mumbled out a quick apology, following him from behind. He was probably still sore from how your exchange ended last night.

From afar, an older man with graying hair and spectacles peeked out from behind one of the rusty beams. Upon seeing you both, he stepped over nervously, wringing his hands.

“You got the papers?” He asked, his voice was raspy as if he had swallowed sandpaper.

“Mm hm,” Leon continued to advance towards him. “Card first.”

The man nodded, looking behind his shoulders anxiously before stretching out his hand with a slim, white keycard nestled in his palm. Leon swiped it from him, examining it briefly. Finding it satisfactory, he pressed a large brown envelope into the man’s chest. 

“Your new ID. Ride’s outside.” Leon motioned to the entrance with his thumb.

“Uh- right, thanks.” The man hugged the envelope till it was slightly crushed against his body, still hesitant to move, like he had something else to say.

“Look, uh-” he stammered. “With every batch, there’s a fail-safe.” He whispered the last word as if he was afraid someone else would overhear him. “It should be marked with a red label.”

After that, he scampered off, while you waited patiently beside Leon. “So, what now?”

“I’ll worry about that.” His eyes softened as they trailed across your face, etching every mole, every contour and every line to his memory. “You just get home safe, ok?”

Would this be the final time you see him? Anything could happen when he tried to shut down the base, but you didn’t want to think about it. And even if everything went according to plan, you had outlived your purpose. He didn’t need you anymore. You would go your separate ways. A deal was a deal.

You thought back to the compromise you had made together that night at the smoky bar, as tears welled up in your eyes. Regardless of the pain he had caused you and your recent standoffish demeanor towards him, you couldn’t imagine the day would come where you’d have to say goodbye to him all over again.

He reached out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, as you closed your eyes, causing the tears to splash down. Wiping them away with the back of his glove, he spoke again, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions, “I should go.”

“Not so fast.”

You heard the unmistakable sound of someone placing their finger on the trigger of a gun. Click.

Your eyes flew open. A slender woman in a red, full-length bodysuit and thigh high boots had appeared out of nowhere, aiming her handgun at Leon’s back. Your breath hitched, as you stood frozen on the spot. This was way out of your league and you prayed that he was coming up with some sort of tactic while she spoke.

“Didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon, Leon,” she hinted provocatively. “You never tire of babysitting duties, do you?” A husky laugh rang out across the space. “Or are you the one currently being babysat?”

“Hm, cute,” he huffed as he shifted his footing slightly, giving her a sidelong glance.

“Not a step closer,” she warned, adjusting her aim threateningly.

You looked between the two of them curiously, assessing the familiarity with which they greeted each other, even though their expressions were hardened and unrelenting. “You seem to know her well,” you discerned.

“Too well.”

Something in the tone of his voice gave it away, and like a winded blow to your gut, you suspected that this was the other woman that had been in his life in your absence.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” 

Now was definitely not the time to confront Leon with this information, but you couldn’t reign in that gnawing feeling in your stomach. You had to know.

When you saw the pang of remorse that flashed across his eyes briefly, you had your answer.

“I hate to break up this reunion, but you happen to have something I want.” Catching him off-guard, the woman swiftly closed the distance and threw a roundhouse kick to his neck, but he managed to block it, though staggering to the side a bit.

Immediately, he drew his combat knife from its sheath, swiping at her aggressively to push her away from you. 

“Go!” He yelled back at you. 

However, you stayed rooted to the ground, unwilling to desert him to fend for himself on his own, as well as hoping to learn more about this mysterious woman.

Soon, they turned the warehouse space into a makeshift battleground, entering into a dance of lethal exchanges. Twisting, striking, and dodging, their movements became a blur, as they attacked and countered each other with deadly precision. Occasionally, a stray bullet was fired and you recoiled, taking cover behind one of the dilapidated pillars.

Just as you thought that the two combatants had entered into a stalemate, Leon ended up dominating the fight with a strategic flick of his knife, so fast that you barely missed it, holding it to her throat as he snarled, “Who are you working for this time, Ada?”

Ada. The name echoed in your ears, foreign and unknown, yet growing more intimate by the minute. You stole another look at her from your hiding spot. She was confident, strong and beautiful - all the qualities that made her desirable in such a cutthroat world. And you somehow understood why a man like Leon would have fallen for her, even though there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“So predictable,” she scoffed. “Always asking the same questions you’ll never get the answers to.” Cocking her head, she jested, “Who do you think, handsome?”

A sense of disgust started to rise like bile within you. A mercenary. She had to be one. And Leon went for her like a lap dog.

“Cut the crap,” he growled.

However, he didn’t expect you to interfere. “A mercenary? Really, Leon?” You snorted in disbelief as you impulsively tread out into the open. “Didn’t think you would stoop that low.”

A low whistle broke out from Ada’s lips as Leon shot you a withering look, both annoyed and surprised that you were still here. “I’m handling this. You need to leave. Now!”

“No, I’m staying,” you contested. “I can’t trust you to do the right thing anymore.” Folding your arms, you regarded him with nothing but disdain. “All of this is going into my report.”

Ada appeared amused by your rebellious outburst. Whereas, Leon’s face contorted in a mixture of rage, hurt and incredulity, “This isn’t the time to-”

In his moment of distraction, Ada tackled him to the ground, kicking him in the face to stun him temporarily, before hooking on to an attachment with her grapple gun, swooping over to you in the blink of an eye. You hardly had any time to react as she wrangled your arms behind you into a lock and zip-tied your wrists together.

You knew it was due to your inability to get a hang over your emotions that led you into this vulnerable position, but some part of you didn’t care. There were so many things that had been weighing down on you, causing you to make reckless decisions.

Leon got to his feet cautiously, his face bruised and bleeding as he raised his hands up in surrender. You had never seen him look this torn up before. That’s when you felt the nuzzle of Ada’s gun poking at the temple of your head and you gasped audibly, suddenly aware of how close you were flitting to death.

“Ada, please.” He sounded almost like he was begging on his knees. “Leave her out of this.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Keycard, now,” she barked, gesturing for him to hand it over to her.

Holding the card up between his index and middle finger, he flung it over. It sliced through the air and landed in her grasp.

“Good boy.” She smiled in approval.

Leon stepped forward guardedly. “Let her go,” he demanded.

“The last I recall, you weren’t the one calling the shots,” she smirked, referencing how you had challenged his authority earlier.

Before he could respond, she fired at a weak spot in one of the precarious-looking beams from above him, causing a section of the ceiling to come tumbling down. You shouted at him to watch out, and he ducked out of the way, but was now trapped by a bunch of rubble.

“Think I’ll keep her with me for a while. She’ll be useful,” Ada remarked languidly, biding her time as if the battle had already been won.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” She winked at him, while he scrambled to break out of his confinement, hollering that he would come for you.

As you struggled, she pulled you in harshly to stop you, dragging you outside towards a vehicle parked at the corner of the building. Opening the car door to the passenger seat, she shoved you inside, warning you not to try anything funny. Hopping into the driver’s seat, she set off at breakneck speed.

“What do you want?” You asked vehemently, while at the same time attempting to maneuver your hands as discreetly as possible to reach your back pocket, where you usually kept Leon’s Swiss Army knife. However, the zip tie was proving to be a greater hindrance than you expected and you were failing with every endeavor.

She didn’t give an answer. Well, not the one you were looking for anyway.

“You seem to matter a lot to him,” she commented. “Interesting.”

“But he still loves you.” What you had been repressing for the past few days spilled out of you without a filter.

It was Ada’s turn to eye you with skepticism as she mocked sardonically, “Love? Oh please, don’t make me laugh.”

“He’s fun to play with.” She turned back to face the road and shrugged, but you noticed a subtle reflection of sorrow in her eyes. “Though perhaps more suited to a naive, little girl like you,” she added bitterly.

You figured that this ‘heart-to-heart’ had hit a raw nerve, and both Ada and Leon were hiding more than they were letting on. Sitting in silence, you wondered how much of what Leon had been telling you was true.

Ada’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, swerving the car around before coming to a screeching halt. “We’re here.”

As she let you out, she made sure that you were close in front of her, every now and then bumping the hilt of her gun as a reminder of who was in charge. You stared down at the looming theater over on the next block. It was eerily quiet like a ghost town, with not a soul in sight. On the street, a lone paper bag rustled in the wind. Where was everyone?

“Lead the way,” she ordered, and you began to walk.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

[deusvervewrites]

Saiyan: so, Tsu is potentially kidnapped by her evil siblings, Izuku is kidnapped by Ashido (unwilling on her part), how would the equivalent of kamino go here?

Also, can I just say, I have the image of Izuku, after being released from the ECW and restrained by Garaki, finding out about Ashido's whole situation, and then forgiving her with no hesitation, providing the thing she needs to stand up to Garaki and fight back.

Much like Ojiro and magic, I've been sitting on this one for a little bit.

Something tells me you're not going to like the answer.

So to recap, Ashido has captured Midoriya, and Asui's siblings have nabbed her as well, for personal reasons unrelated to Garaki's plan.

See, Garaki wanted Midoriya as bait for Inko, and it worked. She and All Might, plus other Heroes, stormed the Kamino base much like canon. But it wasn't the League waiting for them. It was Ashido, who was already crying by the time they came in.

Ashido, who Garaki had already ordered to absorb them.

It's subtle, so I'm not surprised that nobody caught it, but when someone asked if she would get One For All if she hypothetically absorbed an OFA holder, I responded not that she would, but that she does.

Midoriya is released from whatever he was trapped in (probably a bottle) and confronted with a badly sobbing Ashido, who now has her own green monkey tail and two large tufts of blonde hair swept up from her hairline.

I did tell you that things for Ashido would get worse before they got better.

So now Ashido has access to Inko and Yagi's combined Ki, plus One For All in addition to all of her existing abilities. Garaki no longer has a use for Midoriya as bait and orders him beaten and absorbed.

(Note: he thinks that Ashido is still faking having a personality, because Garaki is an idiot. "Crying will make them lower their guard! Brilliant" --local dumbass)

The fight doesn't go well for Midoriya. He is completely outclassed by Ashido and it's taking everything he's got to not die/get candied. And then Ashido starts begging him to put her down before she can actually kill him, because now that she's been ordered, she can't not otherwise.

Midoriya, seeing his friend trapped in her own body, his mother and his idol both having been absorbed by her and as far as he knows gone forever, snaps.

Garaki, who saw Inko achieve Legendary Super Saiyan, understands instantly that he's badly fucked up when Midoriya's Ki turns as golden as his hair.

Going Super Saiyan turns the tides, as since Ashido can't use Inko's own transformation, Midoriya has closed the gap between them and is now keeping pace with her. But that's not enough. Despite his determination, he can't get her to break through Garaki's programming.

In on a one-on-on fight, one of them would die here.

Midoriya isn't fighting alone.

With Midoriya now strong enough to match Ashido, Asui can finally close the distance and join the fray without fear of getting hit by stray shots, bringing up her own history and trying to help Ashido break free. And then Hagakure arrives, loudly announcing that she was raised to be an assassin but she's here now to be a Hero. Ashido's Hero if that's what it takes. And Hagakure didn't come alone, either. The rest of Class 1-A is with her. With three of their classmates having been kidnapped (including, again, Asui, the sane one), no force on earth could keep these feral children away.

You're right, Midoriya forgave her without hesitation. No, that's not enough. He was furious on her behalf for what Garaki had done to her.

That alone didn't save Ashido.

But everyone?

For the first time in her life, Ashido, faced with an order from Garaki, makes herself hesitate. She stopped fighting. Crumpled to the ground and wailed, surrounded and comforted by her class and friends.

Garaki, correctly concluding that he should get the fuck out of here before one of these kids remembers that he's still in the splash zone, tries to sneak away.

Unfortunately for him, there's one other thing he forgot to consider.

Inko's wife.

Sure it took her a bit to get to Japan once the news showed what was happening in Kamino, so the kids managed to deal with it by the time Star and Stripe got there, but she still had her own pound of flesh she wanted to take from Garaki.

(Oh, by the way, people Ashido absorbs are effectively trapped in her body, not dead. Free from Garaki's influence, she's able to release them unharmed.)

#asks #saiyan au

[kisses-for-you]

Preference: You're injured

Titans Characters X Fem!Reader

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Gar Logan, Conner Kent, Kory Anders & Donna Troy.

Dick Grayson:

Dick goes into panic mode as soon as he finds out that you're injured. He's worried and upset, and he deeply regrets not being there to protect you. He wants to be by your side to make sure you're okay, and he wants to take care of you until you recover. If he really has to go, all he can think of the entire time is you, and he makes sure that you're in good hands and well-protected while he's gone.

-

Jason Todd:

Jason is extremely worried when he finds out the news. He's also filled with rage, anger, and heartbreak, as he wants nothing more than to hunt down whoever hurt you. Jason would go to great lengths to ensure your safety, health, and well-being. As you recover, he comforts you, helps with your injuries, and does whatever it takes to make sure you are okay. In the end, he would do anything for you, because he loves you and your safety means the world to him.

-

Gar Logan:

Gar is shocked and overwhelmed when he finds out that you're injured. He's worried and wants to help you. Immediately, he takes you to the hospital, where you stay for a few days to recover. When he comes to visit you, he brings you flowers and little snacks. He promises to stick by your side and take care of you until you're fully healed. Every day, he makes sure to check up on you.

-

Conner Kent:

Upon finding out that you're injured, Conner immediately rushes to your side. He stays with you throughout your recovery and does everything in his power to help you get better. Conner takes care of all of the daily chores and responsibilities and does his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He also does everything he can to protect you and keep you safe in the future. Conner is always by your side showing you love, support, and affection.

-

Kory Anders:

As Kory is filled with worry, she hurries over to your side. She is relieved to see that the injury isn't as serious as she feared, but she still takes care of you. Kory helps you clean up any wounds and then makes sure that you're taking it easy and getting rest. She stays with you for the rest of the day, comforting you and ensuring that you don't overdo it. She also does the most she can do to cheer you up.

-

Donna Troy:

Upon hearing that you are injured, Donna springs into action. She quickly calls for medical help and rushes to your side to assess the damage and provide any necessary medical aid. She remains by your side throughout the entire process, calming you down and reassuring you that everything will be alright. As you recover, Donna continues to take care of you, even after the doctors are satisfied that you are in no immediate danger.

-

#dick grayson #jason todd #gar logan #conner kent #kory anders #donna troy #dc titans #imagine #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan x reader #preference

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Twelve (nsfw)

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie), 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, minor violence and swearing.

summary: Ellie was lost in the world, homeless with no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. smut is included in this chapter.

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @bngurngheart @cncohshit @valiantroeagleangel @blackveilomens @dominuslunae @tearfallpixie @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 

Tags are open feel free to ask.

Folio had actually pouted like an overgrown puppy when he found out that Ellie had made Jolly dinner the night before and hadn’t invited him over! Nevermind that she knew he’d gone out to a bar for drinks.

“Well if I’d known coming over for dinner was an option I’d have changed my plans, text next time! Oh, I’ll be there.”

She counted the fact that he had hoovered down the container that she’d brought him for lunch and loved it, and asked what he could do to finagle dinner tonight? He’d bring dessert and booze, how about that? Ellie had smiled at the thought, and said she would love to, but couldn’t tonight as she was already handing out with.. With Noah..

Folio had almost fallen out of his chair hearing that and agreed that they could take a rain check, provided that they hear everything that happened on their ddaattteeeee, Ellie had rolled her eyes and told him to dream on, it wasn’t a date, they were just hanging out. They hadn’t called it a date…

They hadn’t. They really hadn’t.

Besides, she wasn’t sure she should really be dating a demon lord when she had no idea how long she was going to be here properly, she had to go back to the normal world at some point. Then there was the fact that after Noah had agreed to hanging out with her, she’d spiralled back and forth about the fact that Jolly had implied that Noah was actually centuries old. What did she do with that?

All the same, she’d finished work, avoided beating up any souls, especially considering she didn’t have her bat yet, and wouldn’t at least for a few more days apparently.. She looked forward to it arriving with some of the assholes that came through with them. Really, why they thought they could get out of dealing with the aftermath of their actions by flirting with her, or worse, abusing her.. As if being assholes now made up for being assholes while they were alive? Sure okay, lets go with that.

Going back to her apartment, she had no clue what Noah had planned to do tonight.. Pulling out her phone..

Ellie: What should I wear? Ellie: Any hints what are going to be doing?

Sitting on her bed, she waited, watching the screen, watching the dots appear, finally showing that Noah was replying to her message, okay, okay..

Noah: No hints. Noah: Dress comfortable.

Frowning at the screen, that’s it? That’s all that’s all he was going to give her? Rolling her eyes, she needed more here. She was trying, okay, maybe what she really wanted to know was a question she wasn’t willing to ask. What she really wanted to know was if this was a date, if Noah wanted this to be a real date and all, did he want that, or was he just playing silly buggers and teasing her?

If he wasn’t going to give her even a hint, a tiny one?

Ellie: Really, not even ONE hint?! Warm? Cold? Anything. Noah: It’s the afterlife, weather is always as predicted. Perfect. Noah: Dress however you like. Noah: Six. BabyGirl. Be Ready.

Swallowing, nope, she quickly clicked the screen dark seeing that right there, not even wanting to think about the fact that even in text form, she could hear his voice calling her that far too clearly. She almost wished she still was hungover and didn’t remember the first time he’d said it at the door, the rough tenor of his voice, and the way it had made her thighs press together, and her how wet it had made her.. Fuck. She needed a shower now.

By six o’clock, she was ready, casual he said, jeans, shirt, jacket, nothing special, but she tried to make sure she looked at least a little bit nice. For one, a tiny bit of makeup, her hair done a touch, washed with a bit of bounce to it. Making sure it was sitting nicely in the mirror as she heard the knock at the door, Ellie quickly went to answer it, finding Noah on the other side with a bright smile at the sight of him there, she couldn’t help it.

“Six O'clock, on the dot, good to know you’re punctual.”

Smirking a little, but after a moment, the expression relaxed into a smile, and she noted that he seemed different like this. More at ease, then when he’d come into the bar two nights ago. He wasn’t dressed all in black this time, just a simple t-shirt and cargo pants, as casual as she was, reaching up, he brushed his fingers through his hair. They looked so luscious, they looked like they’d be softer than hers and for a second she was envious, wishing she could run her fingers through it right then and there.. But she resisted.

“Ready to go?”

Nodding quickly,

“Yes, let me just get my jacket.”

Even if the weather was supposed to be perfect, she’d rather be safe than sorry, at least a light jacket. It was just a hoodie jacket, and she could always take it off if she got too warm. Heading back to her apartment, she grabbed her jacket, pulled it on, and then they headed out.

After they grabbed some burritos for dinner, tonight it would seem, was casual as promised, it was about getting to know each other, Noah took her to the entrance to… a portal?

“Where are we?”

Noah smiled as he stopped his car, however he didn’t get out yet.

“We’re at a training dimension for demons, well, demons that work in my field anyway. Some demons are more inclined to work in other fields and they’ll learn different things obviously, a demon that works in a bar, wont need to learn how to fight, and torture.”

Glancing to her, he paused,

“Does it frighten you, BabyGirl, that I torture people?”

Ellie looked over to him, blinking slightly as she studied his face carefully, she wished she could see it, his demonic self underneath, see what he thought she couldn’t handle within him.

“No, it doesn’t. If anything it makes me feel better knowing you’re keeping people that are potentially horrible people at bay. I’m hoping they only send the worst of the worst to you, considering you are a demon lord now and all.”

He grinned at that, the expression rather feral, and it had her mouth going dry at the sight.

“I do enjoy getting to handle the special cases personally. Though there are some lower ranking souls that I take special interest in. Ones that have hurt people I care about. For instance, Jolly and Folio have both been harmed in their lives, and I will take care of those souls personally the day they come through the gates. They are on my list. When they cross the threshold, I will be alerted.”

Oh, oh, that was a delightful thought.

“So, why are we here?”

“Ah, well, I heard from Nicholas that you’re acquiring yourself a bat, and I decided if you are going to use a weapon BabyGirl, you better know how to use it, properly. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you hurt yourself.”

Ellie just chuckled at the thought,

“A baseball bat is not that hard to use, Noah, you just swing and make sure you hit the other person.”

He tsked slightly,

“As someone whose very job involves weaponry and torture, let me assure you, anything, including non-weapon items, can be dangerous, so you using an item that is a weapon, and thinking it is easy? Not going to happen, BabyGirl. Come on, you either take a lesson with me, or I'll have Nicholas confiscate the bat.”

Climbing out of the car with that, Ellie gasped in shock as she quickly undid her seatbelt to follow him in scrambling to get out of the car. Protesting the claim as if he had any say in whether she got to use the bat just because he got to lord over a bunch of demons, that was unfair!

“It was Nicholas' idea to get me the bat!”

Come on, how unfair was it that he could just say something little to the other demon and have things all switched around and pull the rug out from under her? It was just a baseball bat, and she’d already order it!

“Just one lesson Ellie, that's all I’m suggesting.. One weapons lesson. Aim, strength, I’ll talk you through it, you’ll be fine.. And it’s human qualifying, I swear.”

Walking up towards the portal, she followed even if she wasn’t happy he thought he could push her into this, but mostly, she was curious about it. Honestly, she just wanted to say no on principle, not on the fact that she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t like that he thought he could hold her plans for her bat over her head to make her do it.

Getting to the portal she looked at him and stopped.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. Ask nicely. I don’t want to do this if it's a threat. You want to do this because you think it’ll be fun, or you think it’ll be good for me, fine, I’m interested, I’ll admit that, but I refuse to do it because you’re threatening my bat. You want to hold my life over my head, I will walk away, steal my bat from Nicholas later, and shove right up your a-”

“Okay!”

He was smirking as he stopped her rant, Noah really did like that fire in her. Still, despite it, he’d thought he might need to push her to even consider the weapons training, most humans didn’t really think using weapons on other people to be something that they should know how to do, which was why he had pushed with the bat threat in the first place. Not that it was about using them on other people, it was about using them at all, consider this the weapon version of self defense.

Stepping closer to her at the edge of the dimension portal, his hand reaching for her and wrapping his hands around her waist with a squeeze.

“Ellie, BabyGirl, will you let me teach you how to use some basic weapons?”

Her whole body felt warm under his touch when he touched her, but she couldn’t think about that, not right then.

“Okay, lead the way.”

Walking through the portal was extraordinary, it felt like an out of body experience, and for a second she felt like she was going to throw up, and it took her almost five minutes for her head to stop spinning. Noah’s hand rubbing up and down her back gently to sooth her as she came back to herself, it was official, she hated portals, even as he promised that she would get used to them the more she used them. The first few times she used them, she’d adjust, hearing that just made her glare at him, and he’d chuckled in response.

The weapons training area was mostly empty considering the time, most of the demons trained during the day, those that were there were training on their own, like them. Those that were there were throwing fugitive glances their way, no, correction, glances Noah’s way. It was obvious that it was often that the Demon Lord himself personally came and trained someone down here, especially not a poor little living human. So she would take what she could get.

Noah showed her a few different types of weapons, helped her test them out safely so she would accidentally hurt herself, and practised a few different moves with each one as she went. Sword, mace, a pike, he even tried her with some axe throwing towards a target along the way.

He stood behind her at that point, close behind her, his chest pressed right against her back, his hands adjusting her hips,

“You need to adjust your stance and make sure you follow through, BabyGirl, careful of the grip on the handle.”

Guiding her through the axe throw, his hand moving up the side of her body, up along her shoulder, down her arm to show her how to hold the axe, move her arm, and then release. He guided her through the motion, and as he did, Noah could practically feel the tension coming off of her in waves as she pressed back against him as the axe flew through the air and hit the target..

“Good Job, BabyGirl.”

She didn’t care about the fucking axe anymore, not when his words washed over her, her thighs clenching together, and she leaned back against him with a low moan,

“Noah.”

A low rough chuckle came from behind her then,

“Oh you like that, don’t you?”

She gasped deeply, knowing that there were other people around, not many, but some, others could see them, but then one second they were there, and the next Noah had teleported them back to her apartment and he had them sitting on her couch..

A moan escaped her when his fingers were expertly unfastening the front of her jeans to slip inside of her panties, the moment they came in contact with the warmth of her skin he groaned at what he found.

“Fuck, look at you, already so wet.”

Noah's fingers stroked over her slit collecting the slick of her arousal, teasing her, Ellie arched her hips up into his touch with a whine as he smirked and gave in. Two of his long slender fingers slid into her, pressing into her pussy, so warm, so wet. She offered no resistance to him, now, he growled low, watching her every expression, wanting to see the pleasure crossing her features every moment with how she clenched around his fingers immediately as he curled his fingers into her, searching for that perfect little spot, then when she lit up with a gasp, he pressed and drew out the delicious loud moan from her.

“There we go, BabyGirl.”

She sounded so perfect like this, just as he had imagined.

Noah had been able to smell the lust coming off of her in waves the longer they trained, the closer he got to her, the more he touched her, helped her, corrected her stance.. He hadn’t reacted, it was important, and the fact she’d showed him complete and utter respect despite her desire made him so fucking proud… but now, now he was going to give her what she wanted. The pleasure she had been begging for from the moment she’d seen him pick up that first sword when they’d walked into the training circle. Ellie as grasping his shoulders as her hips rocked against his hand, his thumb immediately finding her aching clit rubbing in circles and she cried out as he started to fuck into her with those sinfully long fingers of his,

“Noah, Noah, please.”

Oh to hear her beg like that was music to his ears, and while he would love to give her so much more, he was far to enrapt right now watching his fingers disappear into her body. She looked so perfect like this. Her pants pulled down around her thighs, spread for him, his fingers pressed into her tight heat as she arched her hips, so desperate for more, so desperate for him. She looked like a work of art.

“Oh, being so good for me BabyGirl, are you going to cum for me now, show me how much of a good girl you can be?”

She whimpered as she bit her lip, her eyes dark as she looked to him, practically riding his hand right there, no, this wasn’t going to take her long at all she was already so worked up. Her hands gripping him, grounding herself as she moaned, leaning forwards, her lips finding his, kissing him and swallowing down a cry as with her cumming apart on his fingers. Noah pumped his fingers inside of her and let her ride out her orgasm wanting to feel every last little bit of her pleasure, licking into her mouth, tasting her tongue..

And then when her body stilled, and she gasped for breath to calm herself slowly, she gazed up to him as his fingers slid out of her. She watched him as lifted his fingers to his lips and tasted her again with a moan..

“Fuck, BabyGirl, so perfect.”

Dividers: @saradika-graphics (stained glass) & @cafekitsune (MDNI)

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x ofc #original female character #hell au #demon noah #noah sebastian fanfic #nick folio #joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #original character #demon kink #noah bad omens #bad omens au #noah sebastian smut #slow burn #joakim karlsson #fic: hell aint so bad #smut #bad omens smut

[talatomaz]

the storm | jj x fem!reader

a/n: this takes place during ‘the storm’ and doesn’t feature as much JJ x d!r as i wanted but oh well. if y’all want more JJ x daughter!reader fics, please send me requests/ideas

warnings: usual canon violence.

word count: 2.8k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

R is JJ’s 22 year old adopted daughter and works with the BAU

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

It had started out like any normal day.

You and your Mum were on your way to work but were first travelling to your Unit Chief’s apartment so the three of you could carpool to work after dropping Henry and Jack, Hotch’s son, at school.

It was something you had done multiple times before. Both time effective and eco friendly; not to mention convenient.

But today was the day it had all gone awry.

Not long after you, your adopted brother and mother had arrived at your boss’ home, had a SWAT team abruptly burst through the door, training several guns at Aaron.

Instinct had you reaching for your registered firearm, aiming it at the intruders. JJ’s motherly instinct, however, had her clinging the young boys to her protectively, in an attempt to shield them from the danger.

“Drop the gun.”

A SWAT member ordered as you continued to raise the weapon.

“We’re federal agents. He’s the Unit Chief for the Behavioural Analyst Unit.”

You replied back, still refusing to lower the gun.

“It’s okay.”

You turned to your boss with a look of concern and confusion but when he gave you a nod of approval, you holstered your weapon and were forced to simply watch as SWAT zip tied the former’s wrists behind his back and escort him out of his home.

Moving backwards, you flanked Jack’s other side, as the other was currently being cradled by your Mum, and held the young boy whispering words of comfort to try and still his understandable tears of fear and terror. Looking over your shoulder, you made eye contact with JJ and saw the same look of helplessness displayed in her eyes.

What the hell was going on?

            ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After texting with your father, he and your younger baby brother had now joined you, JJ, Henry and Jack in your Government provided SUV as the six of you made your way to the BAU.

As you drove, you listened as your Mum tried to covertly explain the morning’s earlier events without using language that would scare the young boys currently in the car with you.

Forcing a smile on your face, you turned to look back at the kids and inserted a lightheartedness into your voice, “Come on boys, we’re here.”

Exiting the car, you all walked into the BAU. JJ was holding Michael in her arms, you held Henry’s hand and Will, your adopted father, had a comforting but protective hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Walking into the roundtable room where you and your team usually discussed cases, you were brought face to face with Garcia, Tara, Reid and Rossi.

When everyone had said their ‘hello’s’ and Will went to Hotch’s office with the boys, the forceful smile that had been previously plastered on your’s and JJ’s faces were immediately replaced with a grim frown.

“It’s bad.” Your mother stated without being prompted.

“How much did they see?”

“All of it.” You answered Tara before JJ continued.

“Which is why we figured this was the safest place to bring them.”

The sound of a text message notification interrupted you all as you looked at Rossi hopeful. Glancing back up from his phone, he spoke, “Just got word. He’s downtown. I’ll go and see what I can find out.”

“And in the meantime, I’ll try to locate the 911 call that caused SWAT to break into Hotch’s home.” Garcia countered as she began typing on her laptop.

            ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After finding out that Aaron was being held by the DoJ, you’d all successfully deduced that Antonia’s son was responsible for the spoofing of the 911 call.

Whilst the rest of the team went to go arrest and question the latter, you opted to stay at the BAU to check up on the boys and to give your father a well needed break.

As you held a sleeping Michael in your arms, you sat opposite Jack who was sitting in his father’s chair behind his desk.

In the 30 minutes you’d been sitting there, the young boy hadn’t spoken a word. And you hadn’t either, not wanting to force him to speak unless it was of his own accord.

“Is Uncle Hotch okay?”

The quiet that had previously filled the room was disturbed by the soft voice that belonged to Henry, your other brother who had unfortunately witnessed the unnerving arrest too.

“Yeah, sweetie. He’s just answering some questions that the police have him. Don’t worry, it’ll all be cleared up soon and he’ll be back in no time.”

You’d chosen your words carefully having noted Jack’s eyes on you as you lovingly cupped Henry’s cheek.

“You doing okay, Henry?” You asked softly, still conscious of the sleeping baby in your arms.

The young boy nodded meekly; he’d seemed pretty much unfazed by the events when he’d spoken to Spencer but a closer look showed signs of distress on his face.

“I guess. It was just kind of scary. I’m glad you and Mommy were there.”

“I know, honey. Me too. But you’re safe. Both of you.” You added, chancing a glance at Hotch’s son who was still staring at you.

The alert and vibration of your phone lightly jolted you so you removed your hand from Henry’s cheek and pulled out your phone, scanning the text that had been an update from your Mum. They’d gotten Antonia’s son in custody and Spencer was speaking with him in the hopes of finding out who he was working with.

Your focus turned to the office door which had just been opened by Will. With just a kind look in his eyes and a soft smile, he gently took Michael from your arms and led he and Henry out the office under the guise of ‘grabbing something to eat’ leaving you alone with Jack.

With all your attention now refocused on Jack, you waited patiently for him to speak.

“He’s really okay?”

You didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yes, he is. Your dad can handle himself, Jack. He’s okay.”

“I thought they were gonna shoot him. That I would never see him again. Like Mom.”

His words tugged at your heart; you could feel it breaking with each word he spoke. He’d suffered so much pain and loss in his life and had been fortunate enough to be too young to fathom it but now, the sight of seeing his father on his knees with several guns aimed at his head would certainly plague his dreams.

“Oh, honey.”

Seeing the tears well up in his eyes, you got up from your chair and gathered the former into your arms, letting him cry out all his emotions safely. You once again soothed him with your words as you ran your hand up and down his back in a comforting manner.

“Shhh, you’re safe. It’s okay.“

You repeated until his sobs had reduced into teary sniffles. Making no effort or attempt to move, you allowed him to seek comfort in your arms for as long as he needed.

At least that was the plan until you’d been interrupted once again by the ping of your phone.

Carefully manoeuvring yourself, you reached into your pocket and again looked at a text from your Mum. They’d figured out Asher’s partner was a jailed con who was planning a prison break tonight.

“Is that him?” Jack asked, his voice wet with tears.

“No, sweetie. It’s about the men who were behind this. My Mum and the rest of the team are going after them.”

“You have to go too.”

“Jack-”

“Please. Help bring him home.”

Sighing at the boy’s pleas, you knew your presence would be needed by the team. Especially if the prison break was bonafide.

“I will. I’ll send Henry back in here with some food and more comics, okay?” You joked, holding Jack’s face similarly to how you’d held Henry’s earlier.

            ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“The boys okay?”

You excused yourself from the police you were talking to and walked over to JJ and the rest of your team. Since you had been closest to the prison, you’d arrived there first and had already been briefed.

“Yeah. When I left, they were reading some comics.” You answered JJ whose face visibly relaxed with that information before tensing again when you continued.

“So far, the prisoners have taken control of 3 blocks and multiple fires have been set so the Warden and his guys are spread pretty thin.”

“We just got a distress call that some of the prisoners got to the gun safe.” Warden Nabb explained, joining you and your team.

“First priority is to secure the control room.” The SWAT leader announced.

Walking through the prison, you and your team remained vigilant with your guns drawn, ready to fire if necessary at any intruder you encountered.

Reaching another block of empty cells, you paused when you heard some scratching noises.

“You hear that?” You whispered to your Mum.

“Shh! Everybody quiet.” JJ ordered as the two of you followed the sound to another cell. Holding a flashlight, you both discovered a makeshift tunnel that Rawdon had presumably escaped in.

After notifying Rossi about said tunnel, your Mum, Spencer and a SWAT member decided to sweep another cell block so you and Tara decided to join the other SWAT members in their pursuit of the control room.

“Stay safe.”

“You too.” You said to JJ before leaving with Tara.

            ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Reaching A block, you nodded in agreement when you and Tara were ordered to remain back whilst SWAT cleared the control room.

You impatiently looked back and forth as the jeers from the imprisoned convicts continued to unnerve you.

“I don’t like this, Tara.” You admitted when the SWAT leader had remained radio silent for the past 2 minutes.

“Me either. Captain, do you copy?” Tara spoke into the comms on her vest before being called by one of the prisoners.

You watched cautiously as she conversed with a serial killer she’d previously interviewed for her research.

“This is the serial killer wing.”

Yeah, you were definitely liking this less and less.

The sound of the buzzer jolted you, only giving you a second of warning to raise your gun once more as all the doors, that had previously held back the vast amount of serial killers, now opened.

Walking backwards, you reached Tara and remained steadfast in your position as the aforementioned murderers began stalking towards the two of you.

“You can’t take us all.”

The chilling statement caused a shiver to run down your spine. Still holding your gun in one hand, you spoke into your comms with the other.

As JJ, Spencer and a SWAT member continued canvassing the cell block, they stilled when they heard your thinly veiled panicked shout crackle through the comms they wore.

“JJ, Reid, backup now.”

“We’re coming.” JJ replied with ferocity as she swiftly turned and began making her way to you.

Though she tried her hardest not to, she felt herself begin to panic at your troubled shout, in fear of what you were currently facing. She’d already had one child of hers standing in the face of danger - and whilst she knew it was a part of your shared job - she couldn’t bear the idea of you having a similar fate.

“We’re coming.”

As soon as those words came through, one of the convicts charged at you and you were forced to fire your gun at his leg. He fell to the ground, clutching his thigh as blood stained his hand.

You watched and listened as Tara tried to talk Ennis, the serial killer she’d previously interviewed, down. But when you sensed movement, you glanced behind the convict and almost breathed a sigh of relief. Hotch and several more armed SWAT members entered the room.

Then all hell broke loose.

Several shots rang out as the convicts charged at you all in an attempt to escape. When you’d managed to gain control of the situation and started to subdue and restrain the released prisoners, the sound of faint gunshots caught the attention of you, Tara and Hotch.

“Mum.” You exhaled, more so to yourself than your team, before running towards the gunfire, Tara and Hotch following closely behind.

Reaching JJ and Spencer, you stumbled upon SWAT members, whom you assumed were prisoners dressed up as them, shooting at your team. Your arrival warranted their attention as shots began to fire your way.

Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough and one of them had hit you square in the chest. Luckily, the brunt of it had been absorbed by the vest but it still toppled you over as you struggled to breathe. It was like being punched ten times over; the sheer force knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Blinking rapidly to try and control the pain, you felt someone’s hands grabbing at the vest that covered your chest. Those same hands gently pushed away your own which had been trying to unstrap the vest in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

“Can you hear me? Are you okay? God.”

The panicked shouts of your name, which you now recognised as coming from your Mum, brought you back to reality.

“Fuck, that hurts.”

You winced as the protective vest was pulled off you. Stilling the hands that then began to roam over your body, presumably checking for other injuries, you moved to sit up.

Looking up into the tear-filled blue eyes that belonged to your mother, you spoke,

“I’m okay, Mum. I’m okay.”

The seasoned profiler exhaled a shaky breath of relief as she hugged you closely to her. Unable to stop it in time, a grimace followed by a hiss of pain slipped past your lips.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You replied before hugging your Mum back.

She then helped you to your feet when you were both approached by Hotch who placed a warm hand on your shoulder. He gave you a quick once over, “You good?” You nodded in response and he then explained that they’d figured out where the bomb was being held.

With gritted teeth, you pulled the vest back over you and securely strapped it, ignoring the shoots of pain travelling through you.

“Let’s get these bastards.”

            ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After engaging in a shootout with Rawdon’s gang and later getting checked out by a medic - at your behest but the order of your Mum - you were now laying in your bedroom as your parents put your younger brothers to bed. You were originally planning on staying at your apartment like you did practically every other day but, after the tiring events of the day, including your injury, JJ was adamant in her request for all her children sleeping under one roof.

Hearing a faint knock at your door, you invited JJ into your room. She immediately walked over and got into bed next to you.

“They asleep?”

“Yeah, out like a light.” JJ answered, as she pulled you into her arms. Welcoming the comfort, you buried your head into her neck, allowing her usual scent of lavender to fill your senses.

“Henry told me earlier that he was scared so I’m glad he’s sleeping okay. I hope Jack’s doing alright.”

Your mother ran her hand through your hair as she placed a chaste kiss atop your head, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

“You had me worried earlier. What with the gunshot and being trapped in a cell block full of convicted serial killers.”

A derived snort left you before you could stop it.

“Just a part of the job, it seems. It should really be on the job description.”

“You ever wonder if it’s all too dangerous?”

You pulled back from your Mum’s arms to look up at her, “you having second thoughts with my being on the team?”

“No, no, sweetie. I just mean, with everything that we have to face, is it even worth it? Especially when the violence and danger continues to affect us outside of work.”

“I have to believe that it’s all worth it. That what we’re doing makes a difference. We’re helping put away murderers. People who are hurting innocent victims. People who were in the same position I was. We’re helping make the world a safer place.” You explained, unable to keep your voice level as you brought up your past.

“You’re right, baby. Sometimes I just wonder. You, Will and the boys always come first so when I saw you get injured because of this job, it just made me question things.”

JJ explained as she hugged you close.

“I get it, Mum. But I’m not going anywhere. And without us, these unsubs won’t either.”

As JJ continued talking, you found yourself getting lost in her voice before drifting off to sleep in her motherly embrace. Kissing your forehead, JJ whispered to you.

“Sleep well, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jj x reader #emily prentiss x reader #derek morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader #tara lewis #tara lewis x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #david rossi x reader #penelope garcia x reader #jemily #aj cook #cm #cm x reader #c: jennifer jareau #c: the storm #c: jj x d!r #s: mine

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 2

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + none? regular drama, cursing... lmk if i missed something tho!

🍒 WC: 12.4k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 💙

🍒 Author’s Note: Thank you for the support so far! This chapter is a little more chill compared to what's to come ^-^

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

Coming home to find your mother in the living room a few days later was not something you could have foreseen.

Her suitcases are by the front door, and her shoes are tossed in different directions. She and your father are in a heated argument; your sister is nowhere in sight.

“Oh, hi, dear,” your mother greets when she hears the door open. Her voice turns sweet, contrasting how it was a few seconds ago. She turns away from your dad, spreading her arms with a smile as if she wasn’t just yelling. Your father grabs one of her outstretched arms and pulls her back.

“You don’t get to hug her,” he hisses before looking at you. “To your room, Yn.”

“Where’s Seoah?” you wonder, ignoring his order.

“At a friend’s. Now, go to your room.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” your mother chimes in. Despite sounding defiant, she retracts her arms from you before she can even touch you. “How are you, sweetie?”

Your brain is whirling with confusion. You aren’t sure if you’re happy or annoyed she’s back. Her trips usually last for several months, maybe a year or two at most, but she always comes back. Sometimes you wish she didn’t. Her attendance never brings comfort, even if you want it to.

“I-I’m fine,” you answer. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s leaving,” your father says, pointing to the door as he looks at your mother. “Now.”

“Just let me stay for one night,” your mother pleads with her eyes on your dad. “I can find somewhere else tomorrow.”

Your dad glowers at her. “I’m tired of you treating this place like a hotel. If you wanted to stay, you shouldn’t have left.”

This conversation again.

Your parents are still married, perhaps because of the divorce cost or custody decisions, but it feels like it is an open marriage. Your mother never tells you if she has another partner, but some of her pictures from her trips are questionable at times. Additionally, your dad has never brought home anyone, but you won’t be surprised if he has gone out to find one. 

Well, you wouldn’t have been surprised in the past. However, the present is different. He is nose-deep in his work. He claims it’s because he is trying to provide for you and your sister, which you’re sure has some factor in it, but he’s also probably trying to distract himself from his own personal demons. You were never that close with him to begin with, and your relationship only worsened when your mother left. You know he cares, but not as much as you wish he does.

Their argument fades out as you stand staring at them. You doubt anything will get resolved. Taking in a sorrowful breath, you turn around and leave the house.

The café you usually visit is nearby. It’s the perfect place to study or hang out with friends, as the atmosphere is peaceful. The food is reasonably priced and not too bad as well.

You find a spot in the corner and settle down.

The sketches for your outfits are coming together. You planned to go to a fabric store later this week to pick out a few yards of fabric. Luckily, your college has collaborated with several stores around to provide the students participating in the show discounts. Most are generous discounts too.

Once you are done going over your sketches, you double-check your to-do list. Jeonghan and Minghao are making good progress with the promotional items. Music, on the other hand, is a little more difficult. You haven’t found the right sound yet, but you’ve scheduled a meeting with Jihoon soon.

You sit your iPad on the table and rest your head in your hands. This project is challenging you in ways you didn’t expect. You simply want to create clothes, not deal with all the tiny other details of a runway show. Thinking back to the start of it has you remembering what you’ve been through these past few months. 

You hate how much you think of Seungcheol at this moment. He has been the biggest surprise of them all.

He isn’t even helping you with your project, yet you have seen him so many times, he might as well be. You’re not sure when you started to tolerate his presence, but somewhere along the way, he grew to be one of the few people you wanted to see more.

And that corny nickname he gave you… Why does part of you like it? Damn, you wish you weren't thinking of him. Your thoughts of him are getting so bad. You can hear his voice—could hear that ridiculous laugh that makes you want to join in with him.

The contagious laugh is so prominent in your mind that you swear it’s right next to you.

Goodness. Even when he has no reason to be in your thoughts, he finds a way to squirm in. Or maybe you just find excuses to bring him in. Nevertheless, the latter is something you don’t want to admit to.

You regain focus on your iPad with the aim of distracting yourself. You’re about two minutes into sketching another outfit when he who should not be mentioned's voice sounds in your head again.

It’s so clear and getting louder. It’s repeating your name, spreading an odd warmth through your chest.

“Are you ignoring me?”

A hand touches your forearm, causing you to loosen your grip on your stylus. It rolls off the edge of the table into a person’s hand. Your gaze follows up the arm until it rests on their face.

Seungcheol chuckles at your startled expression.

“You okay, Cherry?” he asks with mirth.

Have you thought of him so much that you somehow manifested his presence? Irritated at the lack of control over your thoughts, you snatch the pen from his grasp. If only you could rein in your thoughts as well.

“What are you doing here?” you question, glancing behind his shoulder. For once, you don’t see his business clique. Your shoulders ease at this, not ever wanting to see them after what happened. The only person you see is a tall man with stunning features. He’s watching Seungcheol, so you guess they’re together.

Since your show project is never far from your mind, you take a mental note to ask him to be one of your models before he leaves.

“Just passing by,” he shrugs, then glances at your iPad. “That looks nice so far.”

Your gaze cast down at your sketch again. There is just a figure with a long, flowy skirt. Nothing extravagant.

“Thanks,” you reply slowly, but it sounds more like a question.

This time it’s his turn to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Needed a different environment to work in,” you answer. It isn’t a lie, but you aren’t going to disclose why you need a different environment in the first place. Family drama is never a conversation you enjoy having. And you definitely aren’t going to have it with him. Even if you two are getting closer, he isn’t on Dae’s level of friendship.

“Ah,” he pauses and before he can say anything else, you speak up.

“Who’s your friend?”

Seungcheol peers over his shoulder as if he needs a reminder of who he’s with. “Mingyu.”

“You think you can bring him over?”

He snaps his eyes back to you; they’re slightly wide, briefly before narrowing. “Why? You’re going to try to seduce him?”

Are you just imagining the bitterness hidden behind his teasing tone?

“He is handsome,” you observe. You drift your attention to Mingyu. His dark hair is pushed behind his ears, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He wears a short-sleeved shirt that exposes his muscles. You hope he wasn’t asked to be someone else’s model already.

Seungcheol doesn’t seem amused by your response.

“Yeah? Get in line, Cherry. He gets a lot of people batting their eyelashes at him.”

“Is that why you hang out with him? You’re trying to get his leftovers?” A smirk grows on your face as you look back at him.

Seungcheol stares down at you with an unreadable expression. “I don’t need his leftovers.”

“Then where’s your line of people batting their eyelashes?” you challenge.

“Right here,” he taunts, eyes sparkling with vain as he leans over your table to get closer.

You scoff at his answer and move away from him. You need space to think clearly. “I am not batting my eyelashes at you, Seungcheol.”

“Maybe not,” he says, “but you have your own ways of showing your affection.”

“Like?” you raise an eyebrow. The only thing you feel like you’re showing him is an annoyed look.

“Like not telling me to go away when you first saw me.”

“That’s affection to you?” you laugh in disbelief.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I’m telling you that’s how you show affection. I think I’m growing on you, Cherry.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and instead give him a scowl. You move farther away from him to show you definitely aren’t growing a liking for him—even if your heart hints otherwise.

“You will never grow on me. Not with those ‘friends’ of yours,” you reply.

“Hey, they’re doing you a favor,” he says, bemused at your sudden hostility toward them.

“Not those friends,” you sigh. Does he really need to be told which group of people you are talking about? Surely, he doesn’t think his business friends are such saints to not consider them.

“They just aren’t used to your people,” he reasons before sitting down across from you.

You give him a pointed look. “My people?”

“You know, the flashy fashion and such,” he says and gestures at your outfit as if to make a point; it’s another fit that “normal” people won’t wear for everyday attire.

“So that gives them the green light to insult me constantly?” you question, a little astonished at how he’s defending them. You understand they’re his friends, but is he so far up their asses he can’t see just how ugly their personalities are?

“You know you’re not all sunshine and rainbows, too, right?” he retorts.

You have to force your jaw not to drop. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll let them say all the shit they want to and not defend myself since, evidently, no one else will.”

The indirect jab at Seungcheol doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I told them to stop,” he frowns, thinking back to the lounge.

“Ah right, how could I forget? How silly of me,” you answer sarcastically. Although he did try to stop them, you feel he could’ve done more—maybe been more assertive. You feel he isn’t one hundred percent on your side, and that hurts you more than it should.

You make sure your iPad is locked before you stuff it in your bag along with your stylus. This isn’t how you wanted, nor imagined, your conversation with Seungcheol to go.

“You just gave them a bad first impression. You weren’t very friendly when we first met.”

You pause in your movements as your mind whirls back to seeing him at Jeonghan’s door instead of Minghao.

“Neither were your friends,” you recall.

“They would’ve been nicer if you—”

“I really can’t believe you’re defending them right now.”

“I’m just saying you all have some issues that need to be solved, and not everyone has been on their best behavior,” he sighs.

Your eyes scan his face, sensing the trouble he’s going through at being in the middle of two sides. It’s then you realize he will never have your back completely due to his conflict of interests. 

This shouldn’t bother you.

You had planned to never talk to him again once you were done working with his friends on your project, yet there is a tightening feeling in your chest that doesn’t make you smile. Some part of you is starting to oppose that original idea.

“I doubt these ‘issues’ will ever be resolved,” you reply, tossing your bag’s strap over your shoulder.

“Why not? We can all talk it through,” he says quickly, so you can’t leave. The look of hope on his face has you considering it for a split second, but you know that won’t go the way he’s imagining.

“I’ll make it easy for you, Seungcheol,” you begin and ignore his offer. “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

You should’ve known he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He grabs your wrist gently when you walk past him to leave.

“Where did that come from?” he wonders, tone teetering with confusion and annoyance.

“Don’t message me either,” you simply answer and pull your arm from his grasp. He looks baffled at your response, sitting still as you move away.

Before leaving, you stop at Mingyu. You give him the quick project explanation you’ve given to others before handing him your card. He tells you he’ll consider it, which isn’t what you want to hear, but at least he isn’t taken by anyone yet. You don’t want to linger around him any longer because Seungcheol is bound to come over since they came here together.

You leave just in time as you spot Hana, Hajun, and Soonyoung walking over to the café. You see through the café’s window as they greet Seungcheol and Mingyu. Some things will never change.

As you climb into your car, you feel a pair of eyes on you. The urge to turn back to confirm your suspicion of who it is is strong, but you keep your gaze forward. You didn’t stay at the café as long as you anticipated and hope your parents are done fighting when you get home.

You sit on Dae’s apartment floor as you pencil your clothes patterns on your fabric. With your mom back in town, you and your sister have been spending time at other people’s residences. You at Dae’s, and her at her own friend’s. You two have never been that close, so being separated from her doesn’t bother you as much as it would bother other siblings. Nevertheless, you’re still the big sister and worry about her occasionally—often sending text messages to check up.

You and Dae have music playing as you work on separate pieces. Even though you’re fine working alone, it’s comforting being with a friend right now. There’s a lot on your mind, and you just need something to distract yourself. Keeping your hands moving is a big help for that.

Your father has allowed your mother to stay while she finds another place to go. Her being at home means lots of fighting. At least for once, it isn’t silent in the house. You and your sister spend most of the time in your own rooms, only coming out for dinner. This isn’t new, but it feels more like a prison than before. The good side of Mom staying is she cooks dinner, which allows you to focus on your project. You have fulfilled all your helper positions—thankfully, Mingyu came around in the end and said yes—so you are focusing on bringing your sketches to life.

“My hands are cramping,” Dae whines, bringing your attention to her. You finish the line you are drawing and sit back on your heels.

“Take a rest,” you suggest. Dae shakes her head.

“I’ve got a quota to meet. If I can finish it now, I can have the rest of the day off,” she explains and goes back to her work.

“If you say so,” you mumble before finishing your work. 

Ten minutes pass until she speaks again.

“I ran into Seungcheol today on campus,” Dae says casually. You pause your movements at her sentence.

“And that matters to me how?” you wonder, keeping your gaze locked on your task at hand. Just his name has your heart racing. Though, you conclude it to be from anger.

“He asked about you,” she replies and stands up, a cut piece of fabric in her hand.

“I hope you told him I moved across the globe,” you mumble and grab the scissors you had brought. However, you can’t really focus on anything, so you simply mess around with the crystals you have to hold down the fabric.

Dae laughs a little and shakes her head. “I told him you are moping without him.”

You flicker your gaze to hers quickly, mouth open at her disloyalty.

“I am not moping, and if I was, it wouldn’t be because of him,” you argue fiercely, unknowingly moving your hands as you speak. 

Dae’s gaze glances at the scissors still in your grasp. “Let’s put that down when we’re talking about Seungcheol, okay?”

You peer at the object and scoff. “It’s comforting me right now, so no.”

“How exactly is it comforting you?”

“I’m imagining sticking it where the sun doesn’t shin—”

“Yn,” Dae scolds.

“You asked,” you say, then set them down reluctantly.

Dae eyes your movements carefully before speaking, “He just wanted to know how you were doing.”

“I’m doing fabulous,” you snap, hoping that is what she had told him. Your tone is a little harsher than you mean.

“I told him you were doing fine,” she answers your silent question.

You sigh. “Both start with ‘f’, so you were close enough, I guess.”

“You know what else starts with ‘f’?” she asks.

“Fudge? Which we should go get, by the way.”

“Forlorn,” she answers, dismissing your attempt for sweets. “You’re forlorn.”

“I am not sad and lonely,” you huff. Sure, your family drama is at a high right now, and you just dumped your not-so-friend-who-you-were-starting-to-like-being-with.

You are not sad. You are not lonely.

“You’re also in fenial,” Dae adds.

“I’m in what?”

“Fenial.”

“You mean denial?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Huh?!”

You stare at her, puzzlement written all over your face. She smiles at that, pinning her fabric to her dress form and then turning to you.

“You’re in denial that you miss him.”

“What is fenial?” you ask, disregarding her statement about how you feel about Seungcheol. You are not missing him. He has chosen his side—alright, not really, but his actions say otherwise. He is not on Team Yn.

Dae groans. “We were on f-words, and I had to improvise. I just wanted to tell you you’re in denial.”

“And you’re felusional.”

“How about we just change to d-words?” she asks when she notices what word you mean.

“Or change the subject entirely.”

You stand up, stretching your arms over your head and twisting your body to ease your back as you’ve been hunched over for a while. Dae stays silent as she lets the topic rest momentarily. You leave to grab a glass of water before sitting on her couch. Just as you think she’s letting it go, she speaks.

“Do you think he’s a bad person?”

“Dae,” you sigh in a warning. You came here in hopes of getting away from your problems, not facing them.

“It’s a yes or no question,” Dae states sternly.

Instead of responding right away, you take a drink from your cup. The cold liquid feels refreshing, and you relish in the feeling before her question echoes in your head.

Finally, you say, “No.”

Dae slows her movements on her dress form and peers at you. She doesn’t look at you playfully or pitifully, which you appreciate, but you still don’t want to talk about it. She seems to want otherwise.

“So, why did you stop talking to him?”

“I told you before,” you answer. “I don’t want to be around someone who won’t stand up for me. They’re his friends, and I’m not going to force him to choose.”

“You want him to, though,” she observes. Even though you want to deny that, you know she is right.

“Well, I didn’t want to force him to. I thought he would just do that upon seeing how rude his friends are.” Your thumbs play with the condensation on your glass.

“You’re not innocent either, Yn,” Dae answers softly so as to not hurt your feelings. It doesn’t help.

“Great, so you’re siding with them now as well?” you exhale, exhausted.

“No,” she replies seriously. “I’m trying to show you that he could have picked them over you.”

“Explain,” you say as you try not to lose your temper for a change.

“You’re saying his friends are rude—”

“They are,” you interject.

“I’m not saying they aren’t. Just listen to me,” she continues when you nod. “You’re saying his friends are rude, and he should ditch them, but if you’re being mean, then shouldn’t he leave you too?”

There is an argument on the tip of your tongue that never forms. Her words sink into your mind, processing what she means.

“What his friends are saying to you is not right, and I get why you’re fighting against them, but I wouldn’t hate Seungcheol for not unfriending them.”

“He still doesn’t always have my back,” you counter.

“Hm,” she concurs. “That he could do better on.”

You sit still as you muse about what she told you. She has a valid point, and part of you is grateful he didn’t leave you despite you always giving off the impression of wanting him to.

“And I don’t hate him,” you murmur, lower than your normal volume, but Dae hears you.

She exhales slowly, glancing at you sincerely. She gives you a reassuring smile. “I know.”

“Can you play that one more time?” you ask as you lean over Jihoon’s shoulder.

“Sure,” he answers and clicks a button. The sound plays from his speakers once more. You move away and begin to pace in his room. Your eyes stare down at your feet while you carefully listen. Having four elements seemed good at first, but now you are having trouble finding a beat that fits all four. You like some of the pieces Jihoon created, but they often fit more with one element.

“Something just isn’t,” you trail off once the song fades out.

“Can’t you just make four separate tracks?” Chan, who you met through Soonyoung a week ago, pipes in from Jihoon’s bed. He claims he has nothing to do and wants to help as well. At first, you’re unsure. His major is dance, like Soonyoung’s, so what knowledge does he have about music production? Despite your original disposition, he turns out to be more helpful than you initially thought.

“I don’t have enough time on stage for that,” you explain. In order for the show to not run for an entire day, each student is given a limited amount of time for their section of the show.

You all sit in silence as you think about what to do.

“Hey Jihoon, Chan—Oh,” a familiar voice rings out in the room. All heads turn to the door to see Seungcheol standing there.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you saw him, and during said weeks, you had been avoiding him. You didn’t let yourself be alone with him, let alone let him speak a word to you. 

The fight you had with him is still prominent in your mind, but what’s more evident is the way your body reacts when he gives you any attention. You feel betrayed by your own body when you feel a pang in your chest or a lingering desire to be close to him again. It’s as if you lost something you could’ve had if it weren’t for his wishful thinking. He wants his two worlds to coexist, but that isn’t going to happen. Maybe you would’ve given him an ultimatum, but you aren’t sure if he would even pick you. Hell, why would he when he’s known them longer? No reason to put yourself in that position.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, taken aback. Before you can question what he is doing here, Chan speaks.

“Hey, Cheol,” Chan greets. “Can you give us some help real quick?”

Chan’s question pulls you from your sappy thoughts and look at Chan as if he grew two heads. Seungcheol? Helping with music?

“We can figure it out ourselves, we don’t need—”

“Is this the music for your project?” he interrupts and walks inside the small room.

Sighing, you move away when he nears. “Yeah, but I don’t see how you could help.”

“Play it, please,” Seungcheol directs to Jihoon, ignoring your comment. Jihoon obliges before you can stop him. For the nth time, the music sounds in the room.

You stay silent as Seungcheol stares at the screen. His brows are drawn together, and his lips are in a slight pout. You realize you have never seen him so serious before. You don’t know why he’s so focused on a project he has nothing to do with.

As the song ends, another voice comes from the doorway.

“Cheollie, we’re leav—What are you doing here?”

To your disappointment, Hajun is standing at the door. Though what you really get a kick out of is her outfit. For the first time, she isn’t in pants. Her skirt stops a few inches above her knee, and her blouse is form-fitting rather than loose—like she normally wears.

Instinctively, your eyes drift to Seungcheol. You didn’t realize his attire until now. Despite it not being a suit, he wears slacks and a patterned top. A simple and clean look but is still nice. Were they on…?

Even though her question is most likely directed at you based on her tone, Seungcheol answers, “Give us a moment, Hajun. I’ll be out in a second.”

“But the—”

“Wait in the car then,” he replies sternly, eyes not leaving the computer screen. She fumes, gives you one final glare, then leaves.

“You have other files?” Seungcheol questions.

“Yes, but they’re either missing an element or don't fit any of them,” Jihoon explains.

You can’t recall ever telling Seungcheol about the theme of your project, so why is he acting as if this isn’t news to him? Maybe he put it together upon seeing your designs, or maybe his friends told him about it. Does that mean they talk about you in private? Probably. Still, you can’t help but want to ask.

“How did—” you begin, but Seungcheol stops you.

“Have you done one file with all four?”

“It was too long for her project,” Chan explains.

Suddenly, you feel you are being pushed out of your project. They’re talking about you as if you aren’t standing a few feet from them.

“This is my show, remember?” you huff. However, no one reacts to your question. 

Your patience drastically decreases. It doesn’t help that the bane of your existence is the cause of being overthrown.

“So, just cut each element file to make them shorter and create transitions,” Seungcheol suggests. “She’ll just have to organize her lineup to match.”

“That’s a stup—” you began.

“That may work,” Jihoon mumbles, then says to himself. “Such an obvious solution, too.”

You open your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted again.

“It may sound choppy if not done correctly, but that won’t be a problem since you’re making the track,” Chan adds with a supporting smile.

“Will you buffoons stop interrupting me?!” you exclaim, stomping a foot like you are a child.

They all turn toward you. Seungcheol chuckles softly at your scowl.

“Shouldn’t we be getting a ‘thank you,’ Cherry?” Seungcheol asks cockily.

Chan and Jihoon look at him, confused, never having heard that name before. To be fair, no one has.

“No, because you all just decided things without me,” you argue and gesture to the screen to prove your point.

“We were helping you,” Seungcheol rephrases.

“You were taking ove—”

“Come here,” he says, holding out his hand. You look at it as if he has just stuck it in sewer water.

“Like hell I will. You can leave. Hajun is waiting for you anyway. I need to finish working with Jihoon,” you scoff and angle your body to the screen to dismiss him.

“I don’t know why I offered my hand,” he mumbles under his breath, but it’s so quiet you can still hear it.

“Great question,” you say. “I don’t know why either, because I’m never going anywh—”

“I should’ve just taken yours.”

Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, firm enough so you can’t escape but not so rough to where he’s hurting you. He starts walking toward the door with you in tow. Unless you want him to clean the floor with your body, you have no choice but to follow.

He pulls you into the empty bedroom next door, shutting it before he releases you. He presses his back against the door to make sure you can’t make a run for it.

“That’s your tenth time interrupting me,” you hiss, a finger pointing at him accusingly. It’s bad enough he waltzed in and made decisions for your project without consulting you. Now he wants to, what? Force you to talk to him? Force you to forgive him?

“It was probably like three times, and Jihoon interrupted you as well,” Seungcheol says.

“He’s not an ass like you,” you reply.

“Oh, I’m an ass?”

You move closer to him, finger now pressing into his chest. Your unwanted yearning for him is transforming into anger. It’s a way to divert the denial you’re feeling at how much you missed being near him. Even if he has pissed you off before, you didn’t realize how much he has wormed his way into your life. To suddenly cut him off made it harder not to think of him. Now that he is here in front of you, you don't know what else to do but to default to how you initially felt around him—annoyed.

Surely, the increased heart rate is due to being irate, not because you are nearly toe-to-toe with Seungcheol.

“A big ass. Huge! One that I—No!”

You quickly stop your sentence when he opens his mouth. The finger on his chest is now pressing against his mouth to quiet him.

“Let me finish, dammit. You’re rude and insufferable. You’re the biggest ass I’ve ever met. One that I wouldn’t mind kicking—with my heels on, mind you.”

Seungcheol looks at you, pleased, which only intensifies the fire in you. Once he starts speaking, you quickly retract your finger. The feel of his mouth moving against your finger feels like fire against your skin—burning and making you feel warm.

“You sure you can balance on one leg long enough to do that?” he taunts.

After letting out a big exhale while stepping away, you ask, “What are you even doing here?”

“I promised I would help Joshua with something,” he explains. Hearing his name, it dawns on you that you are probably in his room. He and Jihoon have been roommates for a few months now, so you see him frequently.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you question next, eyes going up and down his body swiftly. 

“I went out to dinner,” he shrugs, not finding a big deal in what he’s wearing.

You aren’t going to bring her up. You really aren’t. So, why can’t you stop your damn mouth from running?

“With Hajun?”

Something in your tone must have gotten Seungcheol’s attention more. A stupid smirk forms on his stupid face.

“Something on your mind, Cherry?” he quips. You hate when he has that mischievous grin of his.

“Besides wanting to kick you? No.”

Rather than Seungcheol being offended by your answer, his smile only grows. “I’ve missed your sassy mouth.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words, something akin to a siren's call—luring you to someone dangerous. At least, dangerous to your heart. 

It feels good to be missed by him, but you still can’t let go of the words he said to you in that café.

“I’m sure your friends are ecstatic to not have seen me lately,” you huff. Even though you are tired of thinking of them when you’re around him, you still bring them up. It’s just easier to latch onto a reason to be mad at him.

“I’m not talking about them right now,” he says firmly.

Seungcheol pushes off the door to stand closer to you. You take one step back, but one of his hands presses against the small of your back to bring you to him. The close proximity has you trying to lean away, but he doesn’t let that happen.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he encourages, voice softer.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. You’re still worked up from all the irritation you feel. You’re probably overreacting, but being alone with him stirs up feelings you’ve locked away.

“Let go of me,” you reply in lieu and wiggle in his hold. It’s fruitless.

“Yn,” he says lowly. Hearing your name from his lips has your breathing stop. It’s odd to hear it when he normally uses the nickname he gave you. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t need him to tell you what he’s apologizing for.

“Don’t,” you warn and press a hand against his chest. “You don’t mean that.”

His body feels soft, yet firm under your touch. While you would focus on his build, the feeling of his racing heart catches your attention more. Your eyes snap to meet his, not noticing you are staring at your hand on him. Is he nervous?

“I do. I’m sorry you felt I wasn’t on your side,” he says, mouth tugging down. “I want to be there for you.”

There is that feeling in your chest again—one you have been trying to force down for days. You try to hold onto the fizzing anger in you, but Dae’s words resurface in your mind. He could have left you. After all, he is right. You were rude when you first met him.

Seungcheol’s gaze darts between your eyes and then to your lips. You say nothing as he does so, your own eyes sweeping across his features.

As if in a daze, he starts to slowly lean forward.

You press the hand against his chest harder to stop him. “Cheol, you can’t. I—”

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs, thumb rubbing against the small of your back. The pet name wraps you in a blanket of illusion where you’re really his. One where there isn’t constant drama looming around you. You like the way it sounds from him.

“I have lipstick on,” you reply quietly.

Seungcheol flickers his gaze to your eyes, his own forming small crescents as he chuckles. “Is that your excuse to stop me?”

“No,” you answer with a slight shake of your head.

“Then stop talking,” he laughs softly and leans in again. Your hand on his chest relaxes as you let his body come nearer.

His lips gently brush against yours, almost experimentally. The simple feel of his mouth on yours has your body tingle. Your chest feels tight the longer you hold your breath in anticipation. As soon as he starts to press his lips on yours more, there is a loud noise from the other side.

“Shua, wait! I think Seungcheol and Yn are in ther—”

You both quickly separate from each other, eyes wide as saucers when the door opens. Joshua stands with a hand on his doorknob; his lips are in a deep frown at seeing you two.

“Not in my room,” he whines, body sagging when he sees both of your expressions.

“Huh? What do you mean? What’s going on—Oh,” Chan calls out as he comes behind him. 

You’re sure neither one of you is untidy in terms of clothes and hair, but the look on your faces is a flashing neon sign indicating what was occurring or about to occur.

“Nothing happened,” Seungcheol says and pushes a hand through his hair.

“Hopefully not. You have your own place for that,” Joshua replies. The thought of doing something intimate with Seungcheol has your cheeks feeling hot.

Not wanting to think of that, you glance at Chan. “Did Jihoon get the music sorted?”

Chan, still a little startled, nods. “He’s ready whenever you are.”

“Great, I’m coming.”

Chan says okay before heading back to the other room. Joshua makes his way into the room while you and Seungcheol start toward the exit. However, before you can completely leave, Seungcheol grabs your upper arm gently to stop you.

He leans toward your ear to whisper, “It was an end-of-the-year dinner with my whole class. My friends are probably wondering where I am.”

Without another word, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before sending you a smile and rounding the corner at the end of the hall that leads to the front door.

Your brain hasn’t caught up to anything that has happened in the last few minutes. From being frustrated with Seungcheol to nearly kissing him. You don’t even like him, so why is your heart soaring at thinking of possibly being in a relationship with him? Why does knowing he didn’t go to dinner alone with Hajun make you feel relieved? Hell, you don’t even find him attractive… Right? Yeah. He isn’t your type. His smile isn’t pretty. His eyes definitely don’t shine. His dimples are unflattering. His laugh is cute—obnoxious! His laugh is obnoxious.

Your shoulders deflate.

Oh, fuck.

Seeing Seungcheol on campus stirs a torrent of emotions through you.

The sight of him has your lips tingle as if you can feel the ghost of his mouth on yours. You ponder on what would have happened if Joshua hadn’t barged into the room. Would the kiss have been short and sweet? Long and passionate? Quick and desperate? Would he have said something that would’ve changed the trajectory of your relationship? Did you want that?

You have been snuffing out any thoughts about Seungcheol that crosses the line of friendship. There isn’t a reason why you can’t be more than friends—besides the disapproval from his business friends. You chalk it up to being too busy to put much effort into a partner. Plus, is Seungcheol even the person you want?

“You know you’ve been staring at the man for the past three minutes, right?”

Dae’s voice knocks on your mind’s door. Your gaze tears from Seungcheol’s back, who is ahead of you in the line ordering, to peer at your friend. She wears a small smile and is watching you closely.

“Not on purpose,” you argue. “I was just staring off into the distance. He just happened to be there.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot,” she observes.

With the conversation about Seungcheol, you can’t help but drift your eyes back to him. 

He must sense your stare because out of the blue, he’s looking over his shoulder at you. The cashier follows his gaze, then says something to Seungcheol to which he nods in reply. Although the cashier turns back to the screen in front of them, Seungcheol’s eyes linger on you. He gives you a quick wink, mouth raising in a lopsided smile before finally averting his gaze.

“I haven’t,” you answer late and glance away.

“Uh huh,” Dae says, unbelieving.

“He’s just somehow always around when I’m working on my project with his friends. I’m not hanging out with him,” you explain.

“Maybe not directly, but he’s still there,” she shrugs.

“Trust me. I wish he wouldn’t be,” you sigh, shuffling forward when the line moves. “He’s distracting when I’m trying to get work done.”

Dae giggles. “Oh, I’m sure he is.”

“Not in that way,” you scold with a light arm slap. “I mean, his friends are easily susceptible to topic changes. What should be a thirty-minute meeting turns into an hour.”

Dae hums but doesn’t say anything else when you both are near the cashier finally. After ordering for yourself, you take out your card ready to pay.

“Actually, it’s already been paid for,” the worker says.

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What?”

The cashier turns to Dae, who is ordering next to you. “And your friend’s.”

Suddenly, Dae is giggling. Though they aren’t quiet chuckles, they are loud and obnoxious. So much so, you feel it could be heard throughout the whole building.

“How kind of him, Yn,” she teases you, gladly accepting the free meal. You don’t need to specify the “he”. Since the deed is already done, you have no choice but to grab your food and move along.

“You should thank him,” Dae suggests as you walk to an empty table.

You scan the area and spot him with his back to you again. He sits with Vernon, Doyun, Joshua, and Mingyu. None of them notice you, and you turn around before that changes.

“I don’t want to, not in front of his friends,” you say, taking a bite of your meal.

“Why not?”

“I just feel it’ll be awkward,” you mumble.

Dae smiles. “It wouldn’t be, but fine. Let’s write him a note instead.”

You glance at her questionably. “Or I could just text him.”

“That’s so boring,” she scoffs, reaching inside your purse.

“Hey!” you try to protest but that doesn’t stop her from rummaging through your bag. She pulls out your sticky notes that have a cute design on them.

“Don’t you have yours?” you grumble as she starts to scribble on it.

“Yours are nicer,” she answers simply. She slides the pad over to you and her pen. “Now, write a thank you.”

Reluctantly, you do as you’re told. While you do so, Dae digs into your purse again. This time she pulls out your travel-sized perfume. You figure she wants to freshen up, but rather, she tears off the sticky note and spritzes the paper with the scent.

“That is so old school,” you groan, cringing at the cheesy act.

Dae smirks and folds the note. She pushes it in your hand and then covers her barely-eaten food.

“Let’s go give it to him as we’re leaving,” she instructs.

“But I barely started eating,” you complain, glancing down at your food.

“Do you really want to stay in this stuffy area? We can eat somewhere else.”

You watch as she stands up. Sensing she isn’t going to take no for an answer, and you don’t like eating in here anyway, you oblige and grab your meal.

“Any slower and we’ll have to eat during the lecture,” she says.

“We should’ve just left without sitting down,” you reply and started walking in the direction of Seungcheol’s table.

You don’t get the chance to back out of Dae’s plan since she taps his shoulder to get his attention as soon as she’s in arm's reach.

He jumps, turning as his eyes raise to flicker between the two of you. You bite back the giggle that almost escapes upon seeing his stuffed cheeks. He reminds you of a cute chipmunk, and there is a tingle in your fingertips that makes you want to poke his face.

Seungcheol seems embarrassed at having been caught like that, quickly covering his mouth and turning away. Once he swallows his food, he looks at you both again.

“Yn has something to give you,” Dae says.

You suddenly feel like her kid who has been forced to do something because “Mommy said to do it.” His friends are watching inquisitively.

“Oh?” he wonders, eyes glinting with curiosity.

You push out your hand, the folded note sticking out. He takes it slowly. His fingers brush yours as he did so, and you feel like such a love-sick teenager at the subtle giddy feeling bubbling from his graze.

You don’t want to be there when he opens it, so you clutch Dae’s arm and beeline to the exit without a word. You refuse to turn back to see his expression, only focusing on Dae’s endless giggles on the way out.

Your mom has finally found a hotel nearby to stay at. Even though you haven’t seen her in a long time, part of you is glad she is going. However, the little girl in you wants her to stay. To try to fix what is so broken in this fucking house, but that is a wish that will never be granted. You just want the fighting to stop, for you and for your sister. For that to happen, it’s best that she left. She’s been gone for three days; it’s been quiet since. Your father hasn’t said anything, just asked if you and your sister were okay before returning to his office.

Spring break came and went in a blink of an eye. You had no plans besides continuing to work on your project. After your mom left, you transferred all the items you had worked on from Dae’s place back to yours. You hung out with her occasionally, which wasn’t shocking to do, but what you didn’t expect was to talk to Seungcheol throughout the week. 

Seungcheol was out of town with his family, so he was pretty busy. Despite this, he still managed to find time to talk to you when he could. Conversations were dragged out due to the delayed responses, but that didn’t matter to you. It was nice to learn more about him and think about something other than your project—even if it were just for a few minutes at a time. 

Now your floor is covered in fabric scraps, cut-out fabric pieces, and sewing pattern sketches. Although it’s a mess, seeing your progress feels good.

Outside your door, you hear hurried shuffling. You ignore it as your sister is probably playing around.

“Yn! Your boyfriend is here!” Seoah calls out. You pause in pinning a piece of fabric to your dress form and sigh. You stick the pin in the pin cushion you have on your wrist, then leave your room.

As you are turning the corner, you ask in exasperation, “What are you talking about, Seoah? I don’t have a—Seungcheol?”

You stop in your tracks when you see him standing in the doorway, his name coming out as a gasp. His hair is wavy, which is different from how you normally see it. His dark hoodie and pants combo is nothing spectacular, but it has you wanting to wrap your arms around him to see if he feels as comfortable as he looks. 

You quickly blink a few times, gathering yourself again and trying hard not to ponder on your thoughts. You veer toward your sister. “Go to your room.”

“What? You’re not even going to introduce me?” she scoffs, ignoring your demand and turning to Seungcheol. She outreaches a hand to him and bows slightly.

“Hi! I’m Seoah, the better sister.”

Seungcheol chuckles and reciprocates the handshake, bowing slightly as well. “Nice to meet you, Seoah. I’m Seungcheol.”

“I’ve heard about you!” she exclaims. “Yn has talked about you.”

That is a partial lie. You have talked about him, but not with her. She must have heard you talk about him while you spoke to Dae on the phone. Curse your thin walls.

Seungcheol glances past her to you, who stands, annoyed, a little away from the door. He takes in your casual attire, and you realize he’s not used to seeing you like this. You suddenly feel self-conscious. Instead of that making you cower in shyness, you just get irritated.

“Good things, I hope,” he answers your sister with a laugh.

Seoah winces. “Actually, not really—”

“Room! Now!” you huff and point to the hallway. Seoah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says. She gives Seungcheol a wave before skipping past you, making sure to “accidentally” bump into you on her way.

Once you hear her door shut, you walk closer to Seungcheol.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a quiet voice, knowing Seoah probably has an ear pressed up against her wall.

Rather than giving you the answer you’re looking for, he chaffs, “You’ve said bad things about me? I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, well, I’m about to have more bad things to say if you don’t answer my question.”

Seungcheol smiles, seemingly unfazed by your brazen response. “At least you would be talking about me.”

Unamused by his playful tone, you take a step back and push the door closed. Seungcheol presses his palm against the object before it can fully shut. His push on the door is strong enough that you have no choice but to stop your actions.

“Must you always be so snappy?” he questions blithely.

“Must you always be so annoying?” you retort. 

“Annoying is subjective.”

“Seungcheol,” you exhale. “I’m busy, so unless it’s something dire, get off my porch.”

“I haven't seen you for a week and suddenly you’ve turned into an old lady.”

Your eyes narrow. The pin cushion comes into view, and you reach to pluck a needle from it.

“This old lady has a weapon, so don’t even start,” you threaten.

Seungcheol takes a step back when he sees the small object. He bites his lower lip as he stares at it. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh. It makes you jab the air toward him, causing him to take another step back.

“Alright, alright, Cherry, put that tiny sword away,” he laughs, hands rising to show mercy.

You oblige, eyes scrutinizing him in case he decides to do something. Though, he simply lowers his arms.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“It’s always ‘what do you want’ and never ‘how are you’,” he sighs teasingly.

Your reply almost leaves your lips until you hear the sound of a door opening from inside.

“Yn? Is there someone at the door?” your father’s voice comes from somewhere behind you. In a panic, you shut the door—so unexpectedly and fast, Seungcheol doesn’t have time to stop you this time.

You turn around to him. “Yeah. I forgot I left something at Dae’s. She’s just brought it back. I need to go meet her.”

Lying to your Dad isn’t something you probably need to do. It’s not like you are banned from having friends or being in a relationship, but you try not to mix too much of your personal life with people you know.

“Ah, alright,” he says. He lingers around for a moment and then leaves the room.

You open the door as soon as he is out of sight. You step out this time. Seungcheol gives you a concerned look, but you pretend not to notice.

“Can we talk in your car?” you ask. It’s better to talk where Seoah isn’t eavesdropping, and your Dad can’t spot you.

Seungcheol doesn’t question you and gestures for you to lead the way.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” he observes as you go down the stairs.

“Good to know you can see,” you reply, not caring about the fact. You’re just going to figure out what he wants then go back inside.

“And you called me insufferable,” he groans.

Suddenly, your feet aren’t touching the floor.

Seungcheol has his arms under your knees and around your back. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck tightly.

“This is unnecessary!” you shriek at the abrupt change.

“You could get hurt,” he simply says, walking the short distance from your porch steps to his car parked out front.

“It’s concrete, not glass. I would’ve been fine,” you argue.

“You never know.”

Seungcheol’s grip doesn’t loosen, and you know he isn’t going to let you down until he reaches his vehicle. With this knowledge, you decide to let yourself think about the way he holds you so tightly. His hair is tickling your arm, and his cold touch on your bare legs warms your skin the longer it presses against you. For a moment, you dive back into that illusion of being more than friends. It’s a dangerous thought.

Instead of setting you down on the ground when he arrives at his car, he gently rests you on top of his shoes—still not letting your feet touch the rough concrete. It’s a small gesture, but the impact it has on you is big. You warmly stare at him, hoping he doesn’t see it as you wait for him to open the door. The click of the door cues you to climb inside.

“All that work for what?” you laugh lightly when he climbs inside, trying not to seep deeper into the warmth that begins spreading in your chest. He turns on the car to get the AC running.

“For your safety,” he replies as if what he did isn’t anything special. While you hate the part of your brain that wonders if he has done this for anyone else before, you hate another part that wants him to only do these things for you more.

“Should I carry you if you are barefooted next time?” you tease.

The grin on his face is wide enough to accentuate his dimples. “As much as I would love for that to happen, I doubt you can carry me.”

“We can try it now,” you offer, gesturing out the window.

“I would rather not break my tailbone when you drop me,” he laughs.

It’s getting harder to deny that you miss him and his contagious giggles. You laugh along with him briefly.

“So, will you please tell me why you’re here?” you ask when the laughter dies down.

“Another ‘please’? I ought to be around you more if I remind you of that word,” he replies.

“You do, constantly,” you start. “Please go away. Please get to the point. Please shut up. Please—”

“I got it,” he chuckles, and you stop to give him a triumphant smirk. 

“I wanted to invite you to dinner with my friends,” he finally reveals.

Hearing the term “my friends” coming from Seungcheol has your smirk slowly evaporating. Upon seeing your change of expression, he quickly elaborates.

“Our friends. Would you like to go to dinner with our friends? Not my… other ones.”

You feel better at knowing it isn’t the group you are avidly evading. “Why would they want me there? Did you not ask about me coming again?”

“Actually,” he pauses, “they asked me to invite you.”

“They did?” you wonder out loud, startled.

“You and Dae.”

“This couldn’t have been asked in a text message?” you ask. 

“I wanted to see you,” he shrugs as though there is nothing wrong with that. Which, there isn’t, except it stirs unwanted emotions that make you feel warmer. 

You move your gaze from him as you consider the invitation. Your first outing with people other than Dae went horribly, and even though this will be with people you are more fond of, you’re still nervous. Maybe if Dae agrees, you’ll be more inclined.

“Can I get back to you?” you ask.

Seungcheol’s small frown quickly turns upside down when you look at him again. “Yeah, of course,” he forces out.

“Sorry, I just…”

Seungcheol reaches out to you, placing a hand on your thigh lightly to reassure you. “I get it. Don’t feel pressured. We just wanted to get to know you both without talking about your projects.”

You nod slowly, eyes staring down at his hand on your skin. Heat is spreading from his touch to across your body. His other hand comes up and guides your face upward, causing your gaze to tear from his hand to his face. He’s closer than you remember. He smiles at you, those devilish dimples appearing and making your heart melt involuntarily.

“Just let me know,” he speaks lowly, slowly so you hear him clearly. Your mind isn’t sure if he is referring to letting him know about the dinner invitation or letting him know if you want him to kiss you.

Yes to both.

You nod, eyes trailing down to his lips. You watch as they stretch into a bigger grin.

“Good,” he murmurs.

You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is thumping in his quiet car. Though that is a fleeting thought as he nears your face. Your eyes flutter shut as you meet him halfway.

Like before, his lips graze yours tenderly. It’s so gentle that you have to suppress the shiver your body wants to emit. One of your hands slowly rises to rest against his cheek to bring him closer. His head tilts into your touch. 

Seungcheol’s hand that’s on your thigh glides up your side until it rests on your waist. Your lips are pressed against his more than they were at Jihoon’s, but not fully. Despite the slow pace, it’s thrilling to be able to focus on his every touch.

“Not your boyfriend, huh?”

The voice outside has you both springing from each other. You move so fast that your head accidentally hits the passenger window. The thud catches Seungcheol’s attention and before you can glare daggers at your sister, his hands come up to cup the back of your head where you had hit it.

“Are you okay?” he quickly asks. Although you want to indulge in his caring nature, you move his hands so you can turn to face the window. The throbbing is already fading. 

Seoah stands with her arms crossed, hips shifted to one side, and a not-so-intimidating stare.

“Well?” she prompts. Her voice is slightly muffled from being outside, but you hear it nonetheless.

You open the door so she can hear you clearly. “You say anything and I’ll—”

“You’re really going to threaten me with your boyfriend here?” she questions, a knowing smile on her annoying face.

“You’re right. Let’s go inside first,” you say before turning to Seungcheol. His face is flushed, and he still seems a little startled by everything that happened. You’ve never seen him so bashful before. He looks rather… cute.

“I’ll get back to you, okay?” you say, starting to slowly leave his car.

That has him swimming out of his thoughts. “Do you need me to—”

You smile at him. “No, Cheol, I don’t need a ‘ride’ back to the door.”

“Watch your step,” he warns softly.

“I will. Drive safe,” you say, fully out of his car and leaning in through his now rolled-down window to see him. You peer over your shoulder to see Seoah waiting a few feet away.

“Also,” he says quickly. “I’ll drive you and Dae and pay for your dinners. If that’s any incentive to come.”

“Tempting,” you playfully reply. “I’ll let you know soon.”

“Okay,” he slowly says. “Oh, and thank you for that note.”

Your body stills at remembering that silly, scented sticky note Dae made you give him days ago.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously,” you reply with a hint of sternness.

“Bye, Cherry,” he smiles. He seems like he wants to say more but decides against it.

“Bye, Seungcheol,” you say.

Per his request, you’re careful with your steps as you retreat back to your door. Before you go back inside, you turn to Seoah.

“What were you doing outside?” you question. You can hear the sound of car tires as she answers.

“Dad sent me out to get you.”

Your eyes widen. “Did he see who I was with?”

“No,” she says. “Just said he didn’t hear you come back in.”

Of course, the one time he decides to be attentive is when Seungcheol comes.

“Don’t tell him about this, alright?” you sigh.

Seoah nods. She may be annoying, but at least she isn’t traitorous. “Are you dating him?”

“No,” you reply sternly. You aren’t. You are just… testing the waters? About to have a friend with benefits? Friends with make-out-sessions? You are nearing an unhealthy spiral from how much you are fretting over the man.

“Do you want to be?” she wonders.

“Enough, Seoah. Just promise me you won’t say anything.”

Seoah stays silent for a moment. You fear you’ll have to plead more, but she ends up sticking out her pinkie finger. You sigh in relief, wrapping your pinkie around hers.

“I promise,” she says.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Let’s get inside,” you instruct, voice softer than before.

“Please turn in your progress reports. I’ll see you all next week,” Dr. Lim says and motions to the spot on the table in front of him.

You wait as the majority of your peers place their papers in a pile. You’re still on your iPad and editing a few designs. You just can’t get one of them right. Something is off, but you aren’t quite sure of the reason.

Maybe if you hadn’t stayed up last night, your mind wouldn’t be so sluggish. 

Seungcheol wasn’t quite ready to end the conversation once he left. Countless texts transpired before he eventually called. The conversations were easygoing enough for you to continue working on your designs while you talked to him. You learned he had an older brother and parents who all lived a few cities over. He hasn’t visited as many times as he wished due to being busy with classes. Though, he tries to go when he can.

You don’t disclose much about your family, keeping it simple by saying you have a sister, whom he met, and parents. He doesn’t pester too much on the topic, and you’re glad. Instead, you talk about what you’ve both been up to and your hobbies (he likes to play games and drink with friends). 

You stayed up later than normal and are now paying the price for it. Though even through your haze, you don’t regret it.

“Come on, Yn,” Dae says when the line to leave shortens.

“One second,” you reply as you focus back on your sketch.

Dae sighs but leaves you alone, going to turn in her own report. 

Maybe the coloring? But if you adjust the shade, it will be too close to another design. Is the one slit in the skirt too common? Maybe if you add two… Better, but it still isn’t clicking. Perhaps it is the top. 

Your hand dances across the screen, drawing and erasing, then redrawing until you finally have something that itches that artistic scratch you are trying to satisfy. The other issue is you need more fabric to make this piece. You’ll have to note that down in your to-do list.

Once you are finally packed, you leave your table and set your paper on top of everyone else’s.

Dr. Lim glances up at seeing you walk past. “Thanks, Yn. I look forward to seeing what you have so far.”

“I am as well. Let me know if there are any changes that could make my designs better,” you reply, pushing your bag strap higher on your shoulder.

He smiles at you; it’s not the first time you’ve asked this. “Of course. See you next week.”

You say your goodbye and then exit to find Dae. She’s outside the classroom, leaning against the wall as she speaks to someone. He looks familiar and you recall his name to be Yejun. He was with Jeonghan when you first met him.

“You get everything sorted?” Dae asks when she sees you. You nod. “Do you remember Yejun?”

Another nod.

“It’s good to see you again,” he greets with a warm smile.

The first response you have is it probably isn’t good to see you since most people don’t find pleasure in your presence. You’re sure he just said that out of courtesy.

Alternatively, you opt for, “You as well.”

“Oh, did Seungcheol ask you about that dinner with the guys?” Dae wonders to you.

Ah, that’s right. You were going to ask her about that today but got distracted with revising your design.

“He did, but I wanted to see if you are going first,” you answer.

“Yeah, me and Yejun are planning to go.”

You glance at Yejun in surprise. Seungcheol didn’t mention his name.

Upon seeing your expression, Yejun explains, “Jeonghan invited me since I’m helping Dae with her project.”

“Hm,” you hum in affirmation. It makes sense.

“So, are you coming?” Dae questions.

You’re conflicted about what you want. What if this dinner ends like how the lounge night went? You planned to stick with Dae if she goes, but now that Yejun is going, will she leave you? What if something happens and you need her?

“Stop overthinking and just say yes. It’ll be fine,” Dae interrupts your mental questions and gives you a friendly push.

Exhaling deeply, you agree to go.

“Great,” she smiles. “Yejun offered to give us a ride.”

The mention of a ride makes you recall Seungcheol’s offer. “Oh, Ch-Seungcheol actually said he’ll drive us and pay for our dinner.”

You peer at Yejun, recalling he didn’t mention he’ll do the same for Yejun, but you figure Seungcheol won’t mind. At least the ride part. You don’t know if he’ll pay for Yejun too.

Yejun gets the hint at your look and chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch a ride with Jeonghan.”

“I’ll go with Yejun and Jeonghan,” Dae offers.

Your heart starts to race at the idea of being left alone with Seungcheol again. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, and you rather enjoyed his company, but lately, you’ve been treading on an indivisible balance beam—teetering on feelings you aren’t ready to come to terms with. Maybe you are, but you’re too nervous that Seungcheol doesn't feel the same. Yeah, he tried to kiss you—twice—but that doesn’t mean he likes you. You can kiss people you don’t like. He could be looking for something noncommittal and somehow sees that in you. 

Great, now you’re concerned if that’s how he sees you. Someone who isn’t dedicated to one specific person. Does he think that of you in general or in terms of relationships? You just added another reason why you shouldn’t be left alone with him. Way to go, brain. Seriously.

“Actually, I’m sure he won’t mind you both. Let me just ask real quick,” you respond hastily and pull out your phone.

“It’s okay,” Dae says, but you ignore her. You send a message to Seungcheol. You know he’s in class, according to previous conversations, but you hope he sees the text soon.

“It’ll probably be more fun in Jeonghan’s anywa—”

Your eyes shoot down when your phone vibrates.

“He said yes! It’s all good. He even offered to pay for you, Yejun,” you say, a little happier than you should’ve been. Dae eyes you suspiciously.

“Really? Oh, wow. Alright. I can’t turn down a free ride and meal,” he laughs and looks at Dae. “That alright with you, Dae?”

She slowly tears her sight from you and gives Yejun a small smile. “Yeah, it sounds perfect.”

“Awesome. I’ll tell him to pick you guys up first,” you say.

“We can just meet at yours?” Dae offers, but you shake your head.

“I need the extra time to get ready,” you lie. She says nothing at the little fib. She should know you don’t want a lot of people at your house.

“Right,” she says slowly. “Then Yejun, can you meet me at mine? I don’t want Seungcheol driving all through the city since he’s doing us a favor.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“Yejun!” a familiar, light voice calls. You look around and see Jeonghan a few feet away.

“Class calls,” Yejun sighs and starts to walk toward Jeonghan.

Jeonghan directs a kind smile and waves in your direction. You wave back—one that isn’t as enthusiastic as his, but it doesn’t matter. He should be grateful he got a wave at all. 

“You ladies coming to dinner this weekend?” he calls from where he is. He could have easily walked over, but he decides to yell across the room instead. People are starting to glance at you all, and you sigh at his antics.

“Yup! We’re even getting a free meal from your friend!” Dae answers, having no problem with the long-distance chat.

Jeonghan laughs, loud enough for you to hear it and for your mouth to dip down at the sound. Better yet, it isn’t even a laugh. It’s a maniacal giggle. That giggly little bitch.

“Oh? Are you now?” he questions, obviously not needing a hint at who the aforementioned friend is. “Well if he’s offering, I’m going to see if he’ll pay for mine too.”

“Pay for your own, and go to class,” you finally join the discussion. You place a hand on Dae’s arm, ready to drag her away from the angelic devil.

“Trying to keep him all to yourself? That’s not fair,” he replies with an over-exaggerated pout.

“That’s not the reason,” you growl, eyes narrowing in a sneer.

“Well, regardless, he’s got money to spare,” Jeonghan chuckles and slips an arm around Yejun’s shoulder when he gets close enough. “Have a nice day!”

You both watch as they ascend the stairs, their laughter fading off the farther they get.

“Seungcheol’s loaded?” Dae asks, surprised.

It takes you a moment to realize what spurs that question. You’re about to say no, but his car and his luxury clothes say otherwise. Hell, even his cologne shouts “expensive”. Though he could’ve gotten all those as gifts, or even got help paying for some. It doesn’t matter if he has lots of money or not, but you didn’t expect him to. No one you really know is that wealthy.

“I’m not sure. Plus, paying for five meals doesn’t mean he’s rich,” you reply honestly. “It doesn’t matter. We need to go get some fabric.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” she teasingly questions, letting you pull her out of the building and to the parking lot.

“You said you needed to go to the store anyway,” you argue.

Dae smiles. “Yeah, but I never said I wanted to go with you.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes playfully. Dae giggles and holds onto your arm tighter.

“You can just tell me you want to hang out with me,” she says.

“I’d rather swallow my pin cushion.”

“Ouch. For a moment, I really thought we had something,” Dae sighs dramatically, clutching her chest in faux pain.

“Alright, enough playing around. Let’s get going.”

Just your luck.

You and Dae visit almost every fabric store that your college is sponsored by. Every single one you have gone to so far has the fabric you want out of stock. Dae offers some that are “close to what you want,” but you don’t want them. The fabric you saw online is what you have envisioned for your piece, and you don’t want to settle for less. 

There is one more store on the list, and as soon as you walk in, you make your way to where it should be.

There it is!

The navy blue sheer fabric is calling to you.

You’re about eight steps from it when two girls come into view. You hurry to the fabric, but unfortunately, they are standing in front of it. One girl has her hand hovering over the bolts of fabric in that section, seemingly unsure of what she wants. That’s good for you as it means she doesn’t have her eye on the fabric you want. You just need to sneak in and grab it before she makes up her mind.

“Excuse me,” you say to them. When they turn to you, you recognize their faces. They’re in your class and are participating in the runway project. Tori and Siwon, if you remember correctly. 

“Oh, Yn,” Tori says. “Need something?”

Though her voice is sweet, you know her intention is not. You’re aware of the way she speaks about you. Always something about how unoriginal you are because you “stole designs.” That or you pay for people to do your work for you. What pathetic lies. They’re common rumors amongst several fashion students. Although you don’t know if all of them are false for others, you know the allegations about you are.

Your gaze on the blue fabric catches her attention, and she turns toward it. “Oh, here’s what I came for.”

Your heart drops when she grabs it, tucking it under her arm and then looking at you again. Her overly innocent smile has your hands clutching at your sides. You know she did this just to spite you. If she really wanted it, she would’ve grabbed it sooner.

“The area is yours,” Tori says, bowing as if you are royalty. It’s a mocking action, which has you nearly stomping your heel onto her exposed foot in her open-toed shoes.

You take a deep breath and eye the fabric in her hold. There isn’t much of it left, which means there won’t be enough for what you need. Part of you doesn’t even want it if she’s going to use it in her designs.

Rolling your shoulders back and lifting your chin, you say, “No wonder you’re one of the least creative students in class. All you do is take others’ ideas. I doubt you even know what to do with that fabric, but good luck.”

The girls scoff before leaving for the cutting station. You stare after them, fire rolling inside.

“Hey, did you find it?” Dae asks when she stops next to you. She has items in her hands that you don’t pay attention to.

“Yeah,” you reply through clenched teeth. “Then Tori took it.”

“Tori from class?”

You gesture to where she is, smiling at the lady who is cutting the fabric for her.

“I’m sorry she beat you to it,” Dae says.

You shake your head. “She didn’t even want it. She took it because she knew I wanted it.”

Dae glances back to her across the store, mouth set in a firm line.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll lure her and her friend outside and you can snatch the fabric from the counter.”

As much as you like the idea, and appreciate Dae’s support, you shake your head. “I’d probably get kicked out for sabotaging her project.”

“You’re just playing fair,” Dae argues.

“Whatever,” you reply, looking at her arms. “Let’s go check out.”

Dae follows you silently to the registers.

“We can go to another store,” she offers as you wait in line.

“This was the last store that would give it at a discount. I can’t afford it at the regular price,” you explain.

Dae nods grimly. She gently takes the red thread that you’ve been toying with in your hands. “I’ll pay this for you.”

“I’m not that poor,” you sigh and take it back.

She laughs lightly. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I just wanted to make you happy.”

“Thanks. I’ll just find something else,” you conclude, giving her a forced smile.

“And it’ll be better than that cliché navy blue,” Dae says.

“It was a little cliché, huh?” you question. You're grateful for Dae trying to lift your mood.

“Absolutely!”

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#svt fanfic #svt angst #svt fluff #scoups fanfic #scoups angst #scoups fluff #scoups x reader #svt series #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fluff #svt slice of life #seungcheol x reader #scoups x you #s coups fluff #s coups angst #s coups fanfic #seventeen fanfic #scoups x y/n #seungcheol x y/n #scoups series #kvanity #kdiarynet

[sailorshadzter]

finding happiness.

inspired by a prompt list

She stands in the center of the broken room, stained-glass window shards littering the floor at her feet. 

For many reasons, she’s never expected to return to this place, to ever stand in this room again- even if it no longer looked like the room she once knew. It is different, utterly destroyed, the blue sky open above her from where the roof caved in. Gone was the Iron Throne, melted to a puddle that she can see when she turns the other way, but she chooses to continue forward. That throne meant nothing to her now. 

Where the beautiful windows once stood, there is nothing but wide open space, the remnants of the town the only sight she can see from where she can stand. From below she can hear the voices crying, those calling out to find the loved ones they were still missing, the sound of it all breaking her heart. The wind whips past, reminding her of that time in the moon door, but somehow there’s no fear of falling. Not anymore. 

“Sansa?” 

She turns at the familiar voice, a wane smile curving on her lips at the sight of the man standing there. He shaved his face clean once more, his dark curls clean and secured at the back of his head in a knot; this was the man she recalls from every dark night, the man who erased all of her fears, the man who saved her in more ways than just one. “I wondered where you had gone off to,” he continues, closing the gap between them, though he longs to draw her just a little further from the broken edge of the room. They’ve spent the last few days here in King’s Landing, the hours long and hollow, the aftermath of this war far worse than all of the rest. Like her, he hears the cries from down below and it sickens him to his very core. 

“I wanted to see things for myself,” she admits, softly, casting her blue eyes around the room, the ghosts within all reaching for her at once. She shivers and when she feels the touch to her hand, it is not a ghost at all, but it is Jon. “Tyrion says the rebuilding will begin at once,” she goes on after she’s let out a long breath. Jon nods, but does not release her hand; that makes her happy. “That’s what they deserve,” softer still, turning ever so slightly so she might look again out past the broken panes of stained-glass, to where down below they hear the wailing of a child. Jon’s first ruling had been to ensure the rebuilding of King’s Landing at once, all the while providing shelter for the commonfolk through the buildings that remained standing, as well as tents provided by the many Houses of Westeros. It would take time, but soon enough the people of King’s Landing would have homes to return to. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, grief darkening his eyes. He’s not forgotten what it’s taken to get here. His one wish was that things could have been different, that the people of King’s Landing did not have to suffer the consequences of a war that meant nothing to them. In the end, Daenerys and Cersei both had to be stopped, it was true, and he feels no remorse for the blood he spilt in this very room… But the innocents of the realm, they did not deserve to suffer because of a power struggle. He can only hope that from his reign he can please them and ensure they know he will not be the King they are used to having. He can only hope to give them hope once more, just as he’s given it to her. 

He smiles then, taking in the sight of her, the warm feel of her hand in his bringing him comfort. She’s lovely in her black gown, her furs left behind, but still yet every in a Northern Queen, every inch a Stark. It was a long time coming, but King’s Landing would finally have their beautiful Stark Queen, but she would walk on the arm of a Northern born Targaryen King, rather than the once golden prince of Lannister blood. “What is it?” She asks, coming closer, noticing his stare. 

Jon can’t help but to draw her in, his other arm sneaking around her waist. No longer would they ever have to hide the affection they felt for each other, instead, he could love her openly, he could love her loudly, he could love her proudly, as he’s always wanted to do. “I was just admiring your beauty,” he admits with a grin and she’s blushing crimson beneath his gaze, a soft laugh tumbling free from her rosy lips. Pulling his hand from hers, he cannot help but to touch the curve of her cheek, her skin like silk beneath his palm, his thumb tenderly stroking her smiling lips. The road to this place, to this moment was a long, arduous one, the path carved by grief and love, war and hope. But in the end, they’d found their way. 

When he leans in to kiss her, she’s already waiting, knowing that from this moment on, they would only find happiness.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #i wrote this #my writing

[a-libra-writes]

Can you do a romantic headcanon for Victor please from Lackadaisy

Yeeeesssss. This is sort of paired with my earlier married life HCs? This is mostly the non-married stuff (as in yall meeting way later), so sorry for the long preamble! Reader is intended to be femme.

So, the relationship is quite different depending if you were with him when he was younger, or you two got involved during the later Lackadaisy years. If it's the latter, there's ... a lot more guilt and troubled thoughts involved.

For the former - when he was much younger, Viktor was shy, but he made his intentions clear. It would've been more old-fashioned courting, especially if you both met in the old country. He smiled a lot more back then, moreso if you were around.

Attempting to start something when he's years into working for Atlas is .... tricky. Even when it's clear you two have a mutual attraction, and a steady friendship, there's a barrier between you. You don't learn until much later what that barrier is, and why there's so much guilt and sadness in his interactions toward you.

It's the kneecapping that gets you both closer, not that either of you realize it at first. You were always at the Lackadaisy, and even after the ... mess, you didn't intend to leave. Neither did he, and though you wished Viktor would get out of this life, for a long time you'd assumed he had nowhere else to go. It's around this time that you finally learn about the estranged wife, and the daughter whose letters weren't opened. It makes the shame and guilt in his interactions with you make far, far more sense.

So even if nothing may come of it, you stay at his side and with the Lackadaisy, like you always have. You give him quiet company without any strings, sometimes bringing meals (okay, often, because he doesn't cook for himself enough), help him fetch things when his knees make it impossible. Your company is a great, great comfort - even if he never says that, you can tell. Some more observant folks might be able to, as well - the big grumpy man is clearly calmer and more at ease when you're in the room. Yes, this is why Rocky consults you before asking anything of Viktor. Hell, even Mitzi brings things up concerning him with you first.

Ivy is arguably the biggest and loudest supporter of you both, though she doesn't always notice how uncomfortable it makes Viktor, so you have to try to dial down her enthusiasm. She refers to you both as a package deal to others, furthering the assumption to others that you're a couple. And unbeknownst to you, Viktor has brought you up to Elsa, even before Atlas' death and when everything went to hell ... She listened to him without judgement, as she always does, silently hoping he'd stop torturing himself over it and that you were a good person. She wants very much for you to be a good person for her friend.

Well, all the hang-ups aside... once it does eventually happen, and that line has crossed, there's really no going back on it.

Viktor's gone a long time feelings he's undeserving of both receiving and giving affection. He's so used to violence, and accepting the consequences of choosing that life. So, it'll be small-going at first. You'll sit next to him and take his big arm in your's, rest your head against him - and he may lean into it, or stay still. He'll accept quick kisses on the forehead and cheek, especially if you hold his face, but sometimes too much makes him bristle. You will have to be very, very patient.

Eventually he'll put an arm around you when you sit next to time, especially when you're both in the privacy of a warm home. He's extra comfortable and warm to snuggle against! Viktor may grumble a little when you curl up, but he never pushes you away. If anything he'll grab a blanket, since you seem so cold. Many times you two have dozed off like this.

When you're wanting a hug, it's hard for Viktor to deny you, though he feels he's no good at providing comfort. He's better than he thinks, though! You're engulfed in warmth and you feel very protected. You can feel his heart skipping when you rest your cheek against his chest. Viktor isn't sure how long to stay, so he keeps still until you get your fill. If you're actually tall enough, he'll rest his chin on top of your head and try to allow himself to enjoy your embrace.

(On the note of PDA - he isn't inclined to it at all, being a more private man, but if you're already sitting beside him and have your arm in his, he won't pull away. He'll just growl at anyone who dares comment on it.)

It's probably only you, Elsa and Ivy who see Viktor's gentler side, and you're seeing the most of it. He'll hand you his big coat when it's rainy and cold outside (and be nothing short of shocked when you return it washed and smelling floral), he holds you carefully, he speaks much less roughly. Arguably the softest thing you two do is late in the evening, when you're cuddled up on his lap instead of on his side, and playing with his hand while you chat with him. He talks so low you can hear his voice rumbling in his chest, his accent somehow thicker yet easier to understand.

Literally no one else will ever see that side of him so enjoy it and soak it up!!

This is also the time you can finally get him to teach you some Slovak, whereas he's usually brushing you off and saying there's no point. Your accent isn't perfect but that's okay, he finds it endearing. He might actually mess with you and teach wrong words or phases, just so you can figure it out later.

Oh, and in addition to the decent food you make him eat - more than once you've made or bought some good clothes for him, because you know Viktor won't spend anything on himself. Whether it be a scarf or a pair of gloves or a jacket, he wears it often. He'll wear it until it's in tatters, actually. He isn't much for household decorations (any plants will probably end up dead...) but small touches you add around his home will give him some little feelings of sentiment when he looks at them.

(Co-habitation is pretty much out of the picture if you two aren't married, even spending the night at the other's house is .... another one of those lines.)

Doing "normal" couple things with you gives him both a sense of ease and normalcy, though there's always the guilt that will be nagging in the back. In the daytime he might accompany you on some errands, leading to the sight of a huge scary cat looming over a smaller and more easy-going one. ("Excuse me, he asked for no pickles.")

He might grumble about having to carry things, but he really doesn't mind these errands. If anything, it's good for him to get out of the bar and his apartment. He's still just as protective, though... god forbid someone looks at you too long, or someone tries to talk down to you. They'd have to be stupid to try anything when he's glowering with his one eye.

You thought his overprotectiveness was just the result of rowdy customers and drunk men during Lackadaisy's heyday, but no, it still persists. It's nice to have someone who will literally throw someone that's harassing you, buuut sometimes Viktor gets too ... enthusiastic, or makes hasty decisions. There's a few stores you aren't allowed back in because he decided to threaten and/or bodily harm a man who was getting too chummy.

Overall, it can be ... a slow and trying relationship, but if you're patient and someone who also wants a steady comfort, and you already value your friendship with him - well, Viktor is a much better man than he thinks he is.

#hope this is alright i had a lot of thoughts and i dunno if they were all together coherent! #viktor vasko x reader #lackadaisy x reader

[bonniebird]

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader /  Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader x Daemon Targaryen

Requested by Anon​​

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She hadn’t thought about it as if she was abandoning you when she left for Dragonstone. You were at home. In the Red Keep. You had always been there. Hurrying along the corridors after her.

Sometimes she’d take a sick delight in rushing ahead, arm in arm with Alicent, telling herself that you were a little younger than them and they didn't need you following along. But she’d hear you call out for her as she turned a corner and always made sure to stop long enough for you to catch sight of them again.

When she’d left for Dragonstone all those years ago Rhaenyra had an image of you in her mind that she held onto. Happy, full of life and free about those halls. It gave her comfort that you would still bring delight to her father who was always cheered by your presence. You’d written at first, long adoring letters that she kept locked away in her rooms so she could pour over them late at night when sleep escaped her and her bed grew unfamiliarly cold. But the years went on and the two of you stayed apart. The letters slowly came to a stop.

When she had seen you at Laena’s funeral you looked older and a different kind of beautiful than when the two of you had been younger. But you also looked tired, drained, and eternally sad. You didn’t look at her with a shining smile, you didn’t rush to her arms as she thought you might in an inappropriate display of affection for the event. She spoke of you, with Daemon as they walked back from the beach. He watched her carefully as she spilled over with thoughts on how you must have missed her as much as she missed you but she found no evidence of it in the way you had looked at her. 

“You loved her.” Daemon had observed. There was a long stretch of silence. Both soaking in the statement. Eventually, Rhaenyra found her voice again.

“She has always been dear to me.” The princess had admitted quietly. As if it were a great secret. As if he had never seen the adoring looks she usually saved for him thrown over you as you and Rhaenyra grew older. He hadn’t understood it then, whatever had gone on between the two of you. Desire he could understand but there had always seemed to be something more. To Daemon you had been nothing more than a curious child, a few years younger than Rhaenyra. Wanting him to spend days regaling you with story after story until he was bored of his own voice, which was hard a task to achieve.

But now he understood, he could see what she had, all those years ago. A flower growing among thorns. A sweetness, he might well have tried to steal from Rhaenyra hours earlier. No doubt it would rile up everyone at the funeral and bother Rhaenyra, giving him some relief from boredom and raw emotion. Perhaps you were something he could share, he had thought to himself later that evening as Cole backed away from him and he caught sight of your frightened face as  Rhaenyra and Alicent clashed. He spared you a moment to guide you to one of Corlys’ men who quickly had their wife take you in arms to guard you and moved on to the fray.

You had thanked him before you left with the party travelling to King's Landing early in the morning. There was a moment of tension as you and Rhaenyra seemed to be strangers for the first time in your lives. Daemon had taken your hand to kiss it and muttered that should you need anything that he could provide he would love to hear from you.  Rhaenyra had given him a strange sideways look before moving to embrace you. It was an awkward embrace at first but anyone who was looking your way could tell that there were feelings that had built over years that seemed to boil over as you both pulled away, eyes locked and a burning in your eyes that was only quenched when others interrupted as they tried to say goodbye to the princess.

After that, the letters began again. Daemon would find his peace of mind interrupted by his, now, wife's delight. A scroll in hand as she hurried to fill him in on whatever you had to share.

“My (Y/N) has sent word to us!” She would almost sing as if you were something precious she had misplaced all these years and delighted in finding again. Sometimes she couldn’t hold in her delight and would read the letter there and then. Other times she would lay in his arms and carefully adore each word. He found himself yearning for your letters himself, the sweetness of your words, the way you scolded lords and ladies you didn’t like in an amusingly witty way. He imagined that you would be able to hold your own the way Rhaenyra could. He couldn’t help but find a small smile on his face whenever Rhaenyra read him the letters.

Then abruptly the letters stopped. There was no sign as to why and when Rhaenyra asked after you when visitors came to Dragonstone, they all said that you had seemed well, that you had bonded with Princess Helena and how one of the Princes seemed to become quite devoted to you. Daemon understood why it pained  Rhaenyra. She would speak fondly of you and Harwin, how you had both been great comforts to her while he was away and he would feel a pang of jealousy. But he would stay quiet. He thought perhaps it bothered him that your raven’s stopped because it hurt  Rhaenyra. But he found each message pressed into his hands by a maester weighted with the hope that for once he might be able to share your words with Rhaenyra again. When it finally happened he found himself regretting his wish.

“Rhaenyra. There is word.” He had said quietly. She had been overseeing her boy's lesson but was quick to excuse herself and leave the children to themselves as she followed him out into the hall.

“My (Y/N)?” She whispered and snatched the paper from him. He watched her carefully. The message had simply read; ‘They have bound me in green.’ Rhaenyra‘s face became angry as she read it over and over.

“What is it?” He asked as she pressed it back into his hand.

“(Y/N) always said that when Alicent was married to my father we bound her in red. That she would never be able to take flight like a dragon because she was all tied up.”  Rhaenyra spat out. She was hurrying through the halls and Daemon waited just a moment before following after her.

“You think they plan to marry (Y/N) off? To who? (Y/N) would not approve of it and I know my brother well enough to know he would not allow this to happen if she did not want it. He swore to safeguard (Y/N) when she had no relatives left, I remember the feast he threw for her.” Daemon’s rushed words were lost on Rhaenyra who was storming ahead. He could not reach her. He would not until everything and everyone had been prepared to travel to the Red Keep.

They arrived quickly, the weather had favoured them. Upon arriving they found themselves greeted by a small party. They ignored  Rhaenyra ‘s request to see you and explained that the king was sick and that she would have to wait until the Maester thought he could be seen. Daemon and Rhaenyra silently shared their suspicions that something untoward was going on with a firm glance. They were led to her chambers and the children were taken to theirs. “They keep us here as prisoners? What have they done? This is Otto’s work. I know it.” Rhaenyra snapped. She paced the room while Daemon took a seat.

“You must calm yourself  Rhaenyra. Nothing good will come of your temper… Or mine.” Daemon’s words fueled Rhaenyra‘s upset even more. He decided to leave her with the boys, who gathered around her after he fetched them and attempted to console her and see what his brother had to say on the matter. He was halfway to the king's rooms when he heard a quick whisper of his name. He looked around and spotted you peeking at him curiously from round the corner of a small corridor. You looked as if you were trying your best not to be spotted. He glanced around and smiled, trying to be comforting, as he headed over to join you.

“(Y/N)... we were worried. Rhaenyra will be pleased to know you are... well.” You didn’t look well. When he looked at you closely. You looked more tired than you had the last time he saw you. 

“She is here? They... Otto or Lord Harwin’s brother. They took my letters from Rhaenyra. Aemond said he wishes for my hand and suddenly I am not permitted to see the king but I must trust Otto that he agrees I should be wed to Aemond. The king has been unwell. No one knows anything yet. I fear they will claim we are betrothed any day.” You explained it all in a rush as if you desperately wanted Daemon to agree that you had been wronged.

“I will speak with my brother. If this is not what you want...” Daemon promised. He reached out to touch your arm in another attempt to give some comfort. Rhaenyra was better at comforting, he thought bitterly. But you seemed to gravitate towards him and he found you slipping into his arms. He held you for a moment that blissfully dragged on. He felt you relax as if you felt safe for the first time in a long time. Part of him felt guilty for enjoying the moment without  Rhaenyra but she would understand, he assured himself. 

“(Y/N)?” Alicent’s voice cut through and Daemon let you leave him. It was then, with the desire to ignore Alicent, to lift you into his arms, fetch Rhaenyra and take you away grew strong at the absence of you against him, that he realised that he had become enamoured with you. He smiled to himself as he looked at Alicent. 

“Queen Alicent.” He said slowly. She looked him up and down, disapproval clear across her face. As if she hadn’t been the one to pawn you off on her son he thought bitterly. 

“Prince Daemon. It is lovely to see you. I was just looking for (Y/N). Helena would like to spend some time with you before the feast tonight... you and Rhaenyra are welcome to join us. Some last-minute changes were made to include you.” Alicent smiled as she said the last part to Daemon, though it was strained, and reached for you. Her tone sounded genuine enough though. It made Daemon bristle.

**********************

The feast was large and grand. Many people had been invited and it was clear that this wasn’t just some regular feast. A few people Daemon and Rhaenyra recognized were present. They rushed to greet  Rhaenyra and wish her well. She had visited with her father that afternoon. He'd been too ill to do more than tell her how fond he was of you when she broached the subject. She had nothing to fight the rumour that he had approved of your betrothal to Aemond. 

From what Rhaenyra could see Aemond was deadly sick with love for you. He followed you around the room. He seemed to glow if you looked his way or acknowledged him in any way. She saw that Helena followed you too but seemed swift in her attempts to swoop in and save you from some grabbing lord or Aemond’s stories if they became too much. Aemond only kept a distance only when you greeted her and her children. A rush of whispers had passed around the room when you seemed more delighted to see her and Daemon than any time Aemond had approached you. Alicent beamed as if she had no clue that you despaired for your fate. It convinced  Rhaenyra that the source of your misery was Otto who preened in the corner of the room whenever anyone said what a good match you and Aemond would make. 

When the food was ready everyone took a seat and there was a hush. Aemond stood, his mother standing beside him, smiling as he looked around at everyone before turning to you, Helena stood as if to interrupt but was hushed and stopped by Otto. You simply stared down at your empty plate.

“I have spoken with my grandfather who has confirmed that I have permission to go ahead with a dream of mine. I am sure many of you recall that my father took charge of caring for (Y/N) when her parents, dear friends of my father’s passed. It would be my honour to take over for him. To take on the duty of caring for (Y/N) from now on. It is with his blessing, and that of my mother’s, that I can share with you all that we are to wed... if (Y/N) should wish it.” Aemond looked delightfully happy and it was clear to everyone in the room that he was truly in love.

Yet it was only Rhaenyra and Daemon who could see that the offer was not one that you could reject. If you did, then Otto would surely announce that the king had turned his favour away from you and cast you out of King’s Landing. While Daemon thought it wiser to take the offer and try to get out of it than risk losing everything you had, Rhaenyra thought differently. She wanted you to say no. To flee from the room, to snatch your hand and take you upon Syrax all the way to Dragonstone. She could keep and guard you there forever, happy and together.

“What can I say?” You said quietly and honestly. The way you said the words made Rhaenyra silently sob while Daemon felt as if a knife had been thrust into his chest. Both trying desperately to keep their feelings guarded.

“It is to be then!” Otto said quickly and a cheer filled the room. Aemond smiled at you while you avoided looking anywhere but your plate. Rhaenyra watched Alicent take a seat after congratulating Aemond. It made her stomach turn with guilt for a moment as she thought about it from Alicent’s point of view. A childhood friend, chased by hardship, was given permission to marry a prince, her son no less. Finally brought into the fold of the family and safeguarded from ruin by her own son. A romantic thought, if she had not so clearly been blinded by pride. She couldn’t resent Alicent for trying to protect you. But she wanted to. She should be the one to save you. You were hers.

As soon as the feast was done you abruptly announced that you were quite overwhelmed and had to leave. Otto loudly laughed and agreed that being betrothed to a prince must be overwhelming and you were allowed to retire to your rooms. Rhaenyra had to squeeze Daemon’s hand and keep hold of him to stop him from following after you and shook her head.

“If we leave now it shall be obvious.” She muttered.

“You have me sit here a moment longer, I shall remove that cunts head.” Daemon snipped out and glared at Otto who was soaking in the praise of many guests who had grown fond of you and were delighted at your fortune of having a prince.

When an appropriate amount of time had passed  Rhaenyra and Daemon excused themselves. “We must check in on the children.” Rhaenyra had insisted when Alicent went to speak with them.

“Of course. You will stay a while? Until the wedding perhaps?” Alicent asked and smiled.

“Yes. Of course.” Rhaenyra said sharply enough to unravel Alicent’s smile.

“You are not pleased with the match. (Y/N) shall have someone to care for her... she will not fall too...” Alicent tailed off as Daemon raised his eyebrows. “Someone else. Someone we do not know.”

“I am unsure if I know Aemond well enough to comment.”  Rhaenyra said before excusing them both.

“Not very subtle.” Daemon said and glared ahead. Rhaenyra shook her head and sighed as she led the way back to their rooms. They spent hours talking about the situation, and what they could do. Tears were spilled and fury whipped out in painful words. Secrets and desires shared. 

Daemon was stroking  Rhaenyra ‘s arm as she let out a few sobs into her hands when they both stilled. There was a creak and a breeze. In the corner of the room, they watched as the wall opened and you curiously peeked into the room. It made Rhaenyra smile. All those times you had snuck into her room, missing your parents wanting to not be alone in your rooms. Then as you both got older, you couldn’t stay apart, she grew to expect you to join her. It was a thrill that she waited for each night.

“Rhaenyra?” You called out into the almost pitch dark. 

“Sweetling.” She answered with quiet relief. The wall closed and you made your way through the dark, dressed in your night clothes as you came to them where they had surrendered to their emotions on the large bed in the room. Rhaenyra‘s hand gracefully reached out for yours as she helped guide you up the bed between the two of them. Daemon was half-sat, his head against the headboard and his back against the pillows. He didn’t object as Rhaenyra laid you to rest against him, looking up at her as she smiled down at you adoringly. “How my heart has missed you.” She said softly. 

“I hate them.” You said quietly. She smiled at you, knowing your tone and that you might be furious but you were far from the raw hate that she and Daemon were beginning to feel. She wasn’t sure that you could feel such sour emotions. "I hate them. I really do. I don’t know what I’m going to do."

“Now is not the time to worry about that. Just be here with me… us.” She leaned down to kiss you as one of Daemon’s hands stroked patterns over your arms.

Aemond tags:

Daemon tags:

@emily-roberts @kitty-marie725 @savagemickey03 @elenavampire21 @zoomdeathknight @pheonix4269 @bloodrose @sarahbullet235 @lovelyy-moonlight @stellasblog @DeanWinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @amournoir @witch-of-letters @heeheehoohoohahahihi

Rhaenyra tags:

@emily-roberts @kitty-marie725 @savagemickey03 @zoomdeathknight @pheonix4269 @bloodrose @sarahbullet235 @lovelyy-moonlight @stellasblog @DeanWinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @witch-of-letters @heeheehoohoohahahihi

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader x daemon targaryen #bonniebird #aemond targaryen x reader #valentine2023

[ghostieagere]

do you have any headcanons about how the little ghouls deal with being sad?

oooo this is a tricky one, anon !!! (/pos) i have lots and lots of thoughts about this and how each of the littles deal with different types of sadness, but for the sake post-length (and keeping everything fairly light-hearted) i'll just stick with a few headcanons <3

under the cut for length !

rain cries a lot. they can't really help it, it's part of their water ghoul nature, but that doesn't mean it's ever very fun :( they also tend to get muddled up between their languages, so their caregivers know to prepare themselves for english or french to come out of little rainy's mouth when they're upset. but yes, when they're sad, they know they need to go and find a caregiver (if they're not with one already) and ask for a sippy cup of water, a little snack, and a lot of cuddles. and that usually helps them feel a bit less sad, depending on what made them upset in the first place

dew is a bit of a tricky one for me to pin down :0 i don't think he's much of a crier, but he does get a bit whiny if he's upset. being sad or upset also usually makes him quite overtired, so his caregivers know that a quick nap is usually enough to get him feeling a little bit better, and at that point (if he's big enough) he can do his best to explain what's happened that made him sad. he does also throw the occasional tantrum if he's feeling overwhelmed by all his emotions, but a teether to chew on, something else to fidget with and a cuddle in steady arms can help him calm down again and bring him a bit further away from the sads

aeon tends to have meltdowns when they're feeling sad. their emotions get a bit too much for them to handle and the only options when they're small is to shut off or go into overdrive. whoever's with them in that moment will try and get rid of anything that might be causing aeon distress (whether that's other people in the room, or clothing that they're trying to pull off because it feels bad against their skin). the caregiver will try and wrap aeon in their arms to keep them safe from their own flailing arms. this usually helps calm them down more quickly because the grounding feeling of being surrounded by a comforting presence can usually be something good for aeon to focus on

mountain hides when he's upset. even when he's regressed, he still has the belief that he's not supposed to be sad or upset, so he hides himself away in teeny tiny cubby holes until someone comes and finds him. once he's found, he'll be reassured that he's not a burden for being upset, that everyone gets upset, and mountain is allowed to ask for help if he wants or needs it. after this reminder, he usually asks for a drink (apple juice) and/or a snack (cut up peaches) with sign language because being upset can often make him lose his words, but once he's with his caregiver and he's got something in his tummy, he usually starts feeling a lot better

aurora doesn't tend to have many big, bad emotions when she's regressed, so if she's sad it's usually because she's fallen down and scraped her knee or if she's not feeling very well. if she's scraped her knee, by the time she's got a hello kitty bandaid on it and cumulus has pressed a soft, healing kiss over the bandaid, aurora is usually ready to go out and play again, all sadness gone. but if she's sick, she'll stay feeling sad and not very good until she's all better. when she's sick though, her caregivers are always ready to provide her with hugs, bedtime stories and warm soup galore !!

#ask box #ghostie speaks #ghostie headcanons #regressed ghouls #regressed ghoul headcanons #nameless ghouls

[writer-in-theory]

okay so i've had 29 by demi lovato on repeat for ages now and i just

tw karen wheeler situation

billy and steve graduated high school years ago. they've long since moved to california and left hawkins in their past. sometimes the ghosts linger, though, becoming more apparent on certain days. there are nights that steve requests they leave the lights on when they sleep so he can see if they flicker, and there are days when billy refuses to even let steve see the scars under his shirt despite him having billy's body completely memorized by this point.

it's never been this bad before though.

steve got home from work one day and billy was laying on the floor of the living room, music blasting so loud the walls shook a little. he might've thought billy was hurt if not for the deep, even breaths making his chest rise and fall in perfect time.

"billy?" steve asked, barely remembering to close the front door as he made his way to his partner. "what's happening?"

the other man didn't answer right away. his eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling and not daring to even acknowledge that steve was now sitting down by his side, hand up as though he wasn't sure if he could touch or not.

"i was seventeen."

"what?" steve asked, eyebrows pulling together and his head tilting to the side. they hadn't actually talked about what happened in hawkins for years now, neither of them wanting to dredge up old ghosts. it was strange to steve that of all times, billy chose a day over ten years after everything to bring it up. "yeah, yeah you were," steve tried to recover, hands wringing together to keep him from providing physical comfort billy may not be ready for yet. "you didn't deserve any of the shit that happened. the mind flayer is gone, bills, we killed it when we killed vecna," he tried to reassure him, voice smaller than it had been in ages.

"no." the word was harsh, forced out like there was something physically trying to stop the word from slipping through billy's lips. "no, i was seventeen."

"you're not making sense, billy," steve said, finally daring to place a hand on his shoulder. he winced at the immediate flinch but didn't let go, just rubbing gentle circles into the skin there. "you can talk to me, you can tell me what's going on."

billy sat up suddenly, hands in a panic as they reached out to grab onto both of steve's. he gripped them tightly, almost to the point of them hurting. steve could see now the sheer hurt and horror in billy's face now, blue eyes a little wild as he made eye contact for the first time since steve got home.

"i was seventeen, and she was...she was older than we are now."

"what?" it sounded a little more like a gasp than a real word, but billy must have understood because he continued.

"mrs. wheeler. at the pool when i was a lifeguard. we were flirting and then i told her to meet me at that motel at the edge of town. and she, she was gonna fucking do it if that thing hadn't wrecked my car."

it didn't make sense. none of it made sense because steve knew mrs. wheeler. he'd had dinner with her, shared christmas with her family. god, did nancy know about this? even worse, did anyone know about this?

"billy," steve breathed, fighting back the tears building in his eyes because he needed to be strong for the man barely keeping it together in front of him now. "you know that wasn't your fault, right? you know that's all on her?"

"i didn't," billy admitted, and steve could see the way his jaw was being worked in an effort to hide back his tears. he still got like this often, having spent most of his life learning to hide back any emotions that could get him hurt worse. so steve let go of one of his hands, reaching up to hold his face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone until the tears finally welled up and slipped down across steve's fingers.

"i turned twenty-nine yesterday and i-" billy stopped himself, breath hitching in his throat at whatever he thought about. "i would never go after someone that young. how the fuck did she think that was okay? why would she-"

steve wished more than anything he had an answer to give. but there was none, there was no reasonable explanation for any of it. all steve could think to do was let out a little "c'mere, b," and pull billy into his arms. it was an awkward mess of limbs as they fought against the way they were sitting to find a good hold, but eventually billy relaxed into steve's arms, face tucked into his neck.

"i feel so fucking dirty," billy admitted, voice low and slightly muffled with his lips against steve's neck.

"i know, b, i know," steve whispered, voice shaky as he allowed himself to cry now that billy couldn't see his face. "i hate that she did that to you. i hate that she got away with it. i—shit, i don't know what to say, billy."

"hold me?"

steve smiled a little at the request, a bittersweet one as billy's hands dug a little tighter into the back of his shirt. steve adjusted them so billy was straddling and practically sitting in his lap. this was something new they'd have to talk about later, a newly formed ghost they'd have to figure out how to fight off. but they could do it, he knew they could.

"yeah, i can do that, billy."

#harringrove #billy hargrove #tw karen wheeler #this was not edited and honestly idk how it is #but my thoughts #harringrove ficlet

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Was This Vacation a Mistake?~Crazy Rich Asians (Astrid x black! fem! reader) ~Part 3

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 

Summary: After a traumatic night, you decide to stay with Astrid a few nights before you depart back to America. The situation left you angry and terrified, but Astrid proved to be an amazing hostess and a shoulder to cry on.

Word Count:

Warnings: Talk of racism and microaggressions. 

Author’s Note: Here’s part 3 guys! As always tell me how this is going so far and what you like about it. Idk if this is good or not but I really want to finish this series soon. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy.

The cup of tea Astrid offered grew cold in my hands as I sat on her fine couch in the living room, my head against Rachel’s shoulder. Astrid strolled back into the room, returning from putting her son Cassain back to bed. 

“Do you need anything else, Y/N?” Astrid said as she circled the couch and leaned against its back. “Blanket or something, you and Rachel look like you’re about done for the night.”

She wasn’t wrong, my eyes were heavy and Rachel was quiet for a while. Her phone dinged, awakening her from her semi sleepy state.

“Mmh, N-Nick! He’s outside!” she said, eyes and fingers sweeping her phone simultaneously. 

I sat up to the best of my abilities and try not to blink too much with grogginess and stress already pulsing around my temple. Grading papers should have been the move from the beginning; I wasn’t welcome here from the start, people like me weren’t welcome from the start.

“Y/N,” Nick’s caring voice broke me from my thoughts thankfully. He stood in the center of Astrid’s living room with Rachel at his arm, his eyes sparkling  in concern. “First of all, I’m so sorry this happened. Come here.”

Nick pulled me into his arms, nearly making me weep from the contact. His tall frame was soothing, yet I felt terrible because of all that’s happened; this happened because of me. If I stayed home, they wedding would have gone on, Rachel probably wouldn’t have to worry as much as she has to. I wouldn’t be the center in all this, so much pity. It isn’t pity, I should know that, it’s racism. Full blown racism in my face and I can’t fathom it for some reason. I don’t know why. Frustration pooled at me, tears and heat pricked my skin and eyelids.

“Y/N? Are you all right?” Nick asked. He pulled back to pat my elbows. 

Rachel sunk to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m OK. I-I’m fine, I-I just need a night to, I don’t know, forget all of this,” you said as you leaned into Rachel. “I want to go home though, I’m sorry, guys.”

Nick shook his head. “No, no. In fact, I booked you a ticket home the day after tomorrow. First class of course, my friends stay in style. It’s the least I can do for how uncouth and down right disgusting my family and our associates were. I can even book you the best hotel around here.”

The thought was nice, a little too nice but I had to declined. 

“Sorry, Nick, I don’t think that’d be a great idea. Don’t want to seem out of place again.”

“Would a coastal house work? A short heli ride would get you there in--”

“Nick, I don’t think that’ll help,” Rachel said, cutting him off. “Traveling somewhere that isn’t home won’t help, yeah? Y/N?”

I nodded. Nick’s amazing, I love him but throwing money at everything isn’t going to bring me the comfort he thinks it will. It is endearing though. 

“She can stay here for tonight, tomorrow as well,” Astrid said, speaking up from her position behind the couch, hand smoothing out the plushness of it. “Anything she needs, I’ll be willing to provide, no issue.”

My heart skipped a beat at the offer; Rachel’s trying not to grin from ear to ear, brought me closer by the shoulder to look at me with those brown eyes. They’re still glossy, all authentic for me I know but know she’s using them to her advantage I swear. 

“Astrid sounds like great company, yeah?” she said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’ll look out for you, I promise.”

Nick embraced Astrid prior to turning back to Rachel and I. “Thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

Astrid smiled, it reached her beauty mark, highlighting her face perfectly. How was I going to survive a night in her home? Two nights even. Rachel beamed back as if she heard my mental question, squeezing my shoulders.

“You got this, call us when you feel a little better. OK?”  

I nodded. Rachel and Nick gave me quick hugs, doing the same with Astrid before they left, leaving me alone with her. Alone with Astrid Leong. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with all that’s happened.

“Y/N?” Astrid called.   

Her voice soft, as it was before yet lower, tender. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want her pity. I just want to go home already. 

“Y/N?” she called again. I glanced at her, she’s close now, right in front of me; the pity I harped on wasn’t there in her eyes though, hurt and worry, similar to how she seemed at Nick’s grandmother’s house.  

“C-Can I hug you?” she asked, opening her arms a bit. Her mouth twitched in a tiny smile while she hesitated with her movements. “Hugs always put me at ease, I-I want to put you at ease.”

The word ease broke me, almost. Tears pricked at my eyes, Astrid found them as she inched closer. She didn’t hug me though, still gauging my reaction. I nodded and met her in a warm embrace; it eased me as she said: her arms wound around me perfectly, fit me well and the tears slipped. A sob broke through too. Why the fuck am I crying? I was supposed to forget about all of that shit. 

“It’s all right, darling. Let it out, it’s OK,” Astrid whispered. She pulled back to wipe my tears. She nodded to her couch. “Want to sit?”

I nodded, pursed my lips to keep from tasting the salty tears. 

Astrid led me by the hand toward the couch, left some space between us when we got there, still holding onto me. Her touch proved pleasant, more so than it has been before--I was at ease. Her hand wrapped around my own wasn’t a huge deal either. I’m not even sure how long I can last but its working so far.  

“T-Thank you, i-it means a lot, letting me stay here,” I managed to say. Astrid’s thumb rubbed my knuckles a little prior to her pulling it away. 

“It’s nothing you have to thank me for,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it at all?”

This is a safe space I realize, however I’m not completely sure about opening up about these racially charged encounters. Sure, she’s non-white but like Rachel, sometimes it’s difficult bringing these matters up and talking through them. Sometimes I just need to deal with it on my own, then again, I do need to talk it out--somewhat. 

“I-I just expected to tag along with Rachel and for this to be a normal vacation,” I started. “But I got centered, I-I should have known. Anti-blackness is global. I should have thought about it more, researched. I’m a professor for God’s sake, I always tell my students this. Maybe this vacation was a mistake, maybe I should have just stayed home.”

Astrid’s hands flocked to mine again, her eyes glossy once more. “No matter how much research or preparedness you set yourself up for, no one deserves to be harassed or see something like that.”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s the same. We both experience some fucked shit, I’m sure, you went to schools in England right? Most of those posh white folks, right?”

Astrid giggled at the description. “They were the living embodiment of posh. And you’re right. My experience is not the same but I can tell you about them. Take some of the weight off from today. Will that help?” 

“Yeah,” I said. 

Maybe I said it too quickly. It was her touches and how intense she looked to me: attentiveness deep in her brown eyes, paying all the mind to me, I had to glance to the spotless carpet below. 

“As you know, or maybe you don’t, I’m not sure how much Nick has shared about me, I attended Harvard during university,” Astrid explained. She ceased holding my hands, calming my heart for a bit. “At this time, I was eighteen, away from home with enough money to make my posh peers turn their heads. Unfortunately, my money wasn’t the only thing they noticed.”

Astrid grimaced and I didn’t want her to delve back into anything like that. It’s different yes, but it can still hurt people. Rachel’s told me plenty.

“Astrid, you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much,” I said. My hand moved on instinct, holding her hand myself. “I-I get it.”

“Darling, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s not the most pleasant story to look back on but it happened. First semester, I was the only Asian girl in my class. There was an Asian boy, but he flocked with the white boys and a grade above me so there wasn’t too much we’d mutually have in common besides our ethnicity. I was Astrid the princess, according to Nick and I wished my white peers saw me as just some spoiled girl. Instead I was Astrid the girl who could grant you a happy ending; Astrid the girl who had to sit up front because her eyes were too slanted. There was worse things but, Y/N, you shouldn’t have to limit yourself because of what history has done. What these systems and institutions have done. Don’t let that stop you.”

She’s right. Astrid’s  absolutely right. The dam broke again at this obvious realization and I’m crying again, trembling and all. 

Astrid just pulled me toward her, embracing me yet again. I feel so stupid.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against her shoulder. “I-I don’t mean to do this. I hate feeling like this.” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s OK.”

We stayed like that for a while: Astrid wrapping her arms around my back, my head against her chest, heartbeat nearly lulling me to sleep. Tiny footsteps neared however, along with a few creaks of the floor and staircase. 

“Mommy?” 

Astrid tore herself away to face the child standing in a purple satin sleep shirt and matching pants. His hair askew, face clearly scrunched up from sleep. Cassian. Astrid’s son. I pulled myself further from Astrid, wishing I could sink into the couch altogether. 

“And what are you doing up, sweetie?” Astrid said, grin plastered on her face, not feeling awkward about her son seeing his mother hug a woman he doesn’t know. “You should be in bed.”

Cassian rubbed his eyes with the back of a fist, attention on me while Astrid lifted him up to her lap, showing the boy off to me. 

“Who’s that?” he asked. 

Astrid’s eyes shined, love filling them to the brim as she stared at her son, then to me. I still wanted to disappear; Astrid’s got my heart flipping again and skin set to a scorch. Maybe Rachel had a point, definitely not telling her about all the details of tonight.  

“This is Y/N, Nick and mommy’s friend and our guest for a few nights,” she cooed, kissing Cassian on the forehead. “How about we go settle in bed and give her some space, hmm?”

I waved at the boy awkwardly. He seemed delicate in Astrid’s arms, fluttering his eyes, squishing and yawning as she stood engulfing the boy in tender love. 

“C-Can you read me a story too?” Cassain whined. 

“Of course we can, my love,” Astrid said. She was halfway up the stairs; I couldn’t stop looking at her. She turned back toward me, voice dropping a bit.“I’ll bring you some blankets to get comfortable, darling.”

Astrid’s gone before I can react, off to her motherly duties like the day we met. I’ve talked with her, seen her heart, been catered by her heart and I’m still skeptical about the entire thing. A mother, divorcee and a rich person. Rich rich. Loaded and her actions, her demeanor already triggers me, in a great yet intense way. Is she just being nice? Or is Rachel right? Should I talk to Nick about this? Should I not take this venture? Leave it alone before something drastic occurs again, her family is still old money, old traditions, old systems. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking at a potential straight woman like this? 

The thoughts continued to linger while I sunk deeper into the couch. 

Astrid returned after a while, a set of fancy comforters and covers hulking her arms. “I wish I would have prepared the guest room better but the couch is just as comfortable. Make yourself at home, stretch as much as you’d like, all right?” 

I nodded, laid across the couch and reached up for the covers. Astrid pouted and shook her head. 

“No, no. Let me, I am your hostess after all,” she said as she fluffed up the covers. “I need everyone under my roof safe, sound and more importantly, tucked in.”

My face and heart raced among-est each other each time Astrid placed a layer on me, tucked a cover against my arm and back, patted in place. She’s so close, there’s no way she’s just being nice. 

“Y/N? Are you all right? This didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it?”

I shook my head fervently. “No, this is so much more than I can ask for Thank you.” 

Astrid’s eyes softened. “Not a problem, darling. I hope your dreams are sweet and more pleasant than today.” 

Those words tingled me to my bones, warmed me more than the massive quilt bulking me and allowed sleep to overtake me. 

#gemma chan #gemma chan x reader #astrid leong #astrid leong x black reader #astrid leong x reader #black reader #black fem reader #black female reader #crazy rich asians #crazy rich asians fanfic #crazy rich asians fanfiction #fanfic #wlw #wlw fic #wlw fanfiction

[rinriya]

You can do anything

pairing: Astarion x male Tav notes: It's just a small drabble with my favorite Star boy. The second character is my MC (Tav) Esbern (warlock), and the plot contains minor spoilers for one of the good ending epilogue (that isn't in the game yet). tags: post-canon, canon compliant, hurt/comfort, romance

Starless night. Long shadows. Quiet streets. A burning candle and only two sleepless people in a small room. One of them is headlong into work, while the other is overwhelmed by thoughts of what has been and what will be.

A starless night wrapped the restless streets of Baldur's Gate with a quiet tread, an alluring whisper, secrets hidden in dark corners. A cacophony of voices spread throughout the city, giving life to it just a few hours ago. It gives life with children's laughter, drunken swearing, invitational offers, playful teasing. The ringing trills of the bards intertwined with the chirping of birds, and waves crashing on rotten bridge supports drowned out the cries of fishermen tired of the heat.

The citizens of Baldur's Gate have seen a lot in their lifetime, but no force has ever managed to break the persistent spirit of people who managed to return to their usual routine after the events that are usually become legends. Heroic deeds remain in memory, on yellowed pages, in cracks appearing on the walls and in stories falling from the lips, but life… it continues, waiting for new heroes, new wounds, new memories. People will not stop fighting for their existence, and only Lady Shar remains an unchanging force capable of plunging the city into silence after a tumultuous day. The silence of not death, but peace and hope for a new day. The Goddess of the Night brings secrets with her, opens the doors to «life in darkness», tempts them with sad thoughts that involuntarily creep into the head after a hectic day, but for many she remains only a symbol of another moment gone into eternity.

The cool air penetrates the wide-open window with a playful gust, like a curious uninvited guest. He rustles between the manuscripts piled up in a small pile, ruffles the bangs of people sitting at the table and forces the candle flame to wriggle in an anxious dance, so then it dissolves into the darkness of a small room. The long shadows stretched out on the table move discontentedly, obeying the fiery flashes, and involuntarily hypnotize anyone who looks at them, reflected in thoughtful, unusual for a simple person, scarlet eyes.

Astarion attentively, but as if disinterestedly observes the changed situation in the room. It is fleeting, but delightful as a variety after a monotonous pastime. The penetrating gaze glides over the moving shadows, over the books randomly laid out on the table and the piles of carelessly written papers; over the modest furnishings in the room: a wooden bed that creaks like a rusty cart that a miserly merchant still cannot fix, a narrow closet and a lonely chair with three legs. It lingers on the blackout curtains, brand new, expensive, and absurdly out of place in the general situation, to finally freeze on the face of the young man sitting next to him.

A half-elf, not man, if you really want to find fault with words, as some proud races like to do, meticulous about their ancestors and traditions. Esbern does not belong to such. Moreover, he prefers to hide the pointed tips of his ears, tries his best not to stand out. Astarion is terribly indignant at this, ready to shower his beloved with all the epithets known to him, but he does not insist on an opinion, accepting someone else's desire with due respect. He knows perfectly well what it's like when others don't hear you and is still surprised by the opposite. Getting used to the opportunities, to the choices provided, to your own decisions turned out to be much more difficult than it seemed.

The realization of one's own freedom did not become a magical elixir that instantly changed ingrained habits, destroyed long-standing fears, and relieved the unbearable feeling of guilt that periodically returns with a fanged grin and a haughty look. Astarion thought that the inability to feel the sun's rays on his skin again would be the most unbearable consequence of his «newfound life». As it turned out, this is nothing compared to the overwhelming burden of memories. Esbern keeps saying that everything is just ahead, that too little time has passed, and Astarion has already made incredible steps towards healing, but it seems to Astarion himself that he is still marking time in one place.

However, such thoughts are probably natural to someone who has not believed in himself for two centuries. So Astarion will have to believe Esbern.

The man sighs softly, resting his elbow on the cracked surface of the table, and leans his temple against his clenched fist. His gaze is still piercing and unwavering, which would have made many uncomfortable a long time ago, but the enthusiastic Esbern does not care at all. Plunging headlong into his favorite hobby, the young warlock completely forgot about the world around him. Astarion could easily have gone to the Underdark right now, dragged all the liberated vampire spawns into their modest home, and Es wouldn't even have noticed it.

However, maybe if they all shouted in his ear at the same time… Astarion shook his head sharply, pushing away stupid thoughts. He absolutely did not want his fiancé's heart to burst with fright. And anyway, only Astarion is allowed to cause Esbern's heart attacks. Unfortunately, now it was unsuccessful, which made him unbearably want to express his indignation at the books that captured warlock's attention. But in this case, Astarion would certainly have caused a real sequential chaos: first, heavy folios piled on top of each other would have fallen to the floor, then ancient volumes, scrolls and manuscripts; ink would have spilled, important records would have got wet. The cherry on the cake would have been an inverted bowl of cold, rich soup, which Esbern bought from the innkeeper who rented them a room, but which was never touched. In general, dramatic, but even for the taste of Astarion, too much.

It remained only to indulge in memories, simultaneously thinking of less risky ways to attract attention. Esbern is an understanding partner, but it is unlikely that he would like to be left without a roof over his head because of the antics of his chosen one on the basis of «why don't you look at me»? Ridiculous. Just ridiculous. Es already allowed Astarion a lot: for example, he didn't even think to stop him from destroying Cazador's castle.

He could have offered to take with them at least some valuable things from there for sale, but he did not do this because of the understanding of Astarion's feelings and how unbearably disgusted he became at the mere thought of the place where he spent more than two hundred years as a slave. Therefore, when the vampire was rushing through the long corridors like a furious whirlwind, setting fire to everything around, Esbern humbly helped to get rid of the disgusting remnant of the past with his fire magic.

He rescued his lover from the burning clutches of madness, preventing him from being burned alive. At that moment, a feeling of euphoria overwhelmed Astarion with his head, but common sense returned much later, forcing the man to look like a guilty mouse at Esbern bursting into laughter.

The young man did not see anything terrible in what had happened, and this amazed Astarion most of all. Sometimes Astarion was genuinely perplexed by the actions of the warlock, and worried about him, because this man managed to save the whole world, but at the same time he listened trustfully to the cunning merchant who was selling him apples at an inflated price, claiming that they were brought all the way from the Cold Lands.

Astarion, who is versed in people, has long understood that Es is just skillfully pretending to be a naive simpleton for some personal reasons, but never makes a fool of himself on purpose. He rather gives everyone a chance to enjoy something in life, whether it's a successful trade, a full stomach, a dispute resolved peacefully… or a saved soul at the most necessary moment of life, by being guided on the right path.

Astarion involuntarily winces, as if the scars on his back have bled again, as on the first day of their «appearance». The theme of the ritual, which had become an unspoken «taboo»: stabbed with a curved dagger, burned with a castle, scattered with ashes, never rose between him and Esbern. And even if he can't get rid of the distinct «sign» left on his back, Astarion believes that over time this damned hateful «masterpiece» will become a reminder of his inner strength, of the difficult path and the freedom he has found. This is not the case now, but everything is ahead. That's what Esbern says, and Astarion believes him implicitly.

A sensitive ear catches another inverted page, forcing him to sigh heavily. Astarion wants to touch his beloved unbearably badly: he even raises his hand to give in to the impulse, but freezes. Pale palm, thin long fingers, neat nails. And dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Disgusting, viscous, contrasting with the dead whiteness of the skin, capable of staining Esbern.

Astarion knows that this is not real, but he still lowers his hand. Dirt is often seen by a vampire: sometimes with a sticky substance, sometimes with thin drops flowing down his hands, sometimes mixed with blood. The residual effects of his past: a deep trauma that Esbern also teaches him to overcome.

The warlock is tactile but does everything to make Astarion feel comfortable. It's awkward, it's weird, it takes both to get used to it. But the vampire likes their so-called «platonic touch lessons.» He likes to touch Esbern, to initiate rapprochement, to lead. These are his real feelings. He does not impose them on himself to believe and successfully fulfill the assignment of his master, but sincerely enjoys the warmth of another person, learns intimate pleasures, discovers his own desires. And he does it with someone he loves. Therefore, frankly speaking, it does not bother him at all if he will never be able to touch someone else again in his life. He doesn't need it anymore.

“You'll soon turn into one of our friends if you spend so much time poring over books,” Astarion says with a slight smile, playfully touching Esbern's cheek with the tip of a quill pen. “And I'm not talking about a lover of cats, Goddesses, and explosions”.

“I'm almost done, just one more page,” responds Warlock, waving away the ticklish feeling.

“My Dear, I know you well and so I don't believe a single word. Besides, weren't you going to the library this morning?”

“I was!” Es instantly perks up, finally paying attention to his fiance. “There was talk in the city about the new arrival of forbidden magic books. Surely there will be something about vampirism! I'll go find out, and at night we'll go for books together”.

“And what about compliance with the law?” Astarion squints cheerfully.

“Of course. Next time”.

Esbern closes the book, carefully putting it aside and grabs the wagging tip of the pen with his fingers to playfully kiss the soft feathers. Astarion realizes that his lips are spreading in a silly smile, and immediately pulls himself together. He wore elegant masks so often that it is still not easy for him to be himself uncontrollably.

“And I also need to buy some food. And a bottle of wine. So, while you're sleeping, I'll also go to the market”.

Astarion does not need food, and Esbern is ready to saturate him with blood at any moment, but it is vital for the half-elf himself. In addition, despite the skepticism of his beloved, Esbern got it into his head that the taste of his blood becomes much more pleasant with a healthy diet. The vampire has no idea where the warlock got it from, and what he eats, but the irony is that his blood is extremely exquisite. The option that Astarion just went crazy because of love and adoration is not excluded as well.

“Then go to rest,” the vampire sums up, getting up from the table. “You need a full sleep”.

“And you?”

“And I'm with you”.

Esbern blows out the candle, and as usual delicately asks, getting up after Astarion:

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course. You can do anything”.

Warlock doesn't say anything to this, just smiles slightly, heading for the bed. Astarion perfectly understands the meaning of the smile. It will take a long time before this «you can do anything» really becomes a routine thing in their relationship, and not a prepared phrase-habit. But they both know everything will be fine. After all, gradually, step by step, day by day, mutually trying for the good of the relationship, setting new goals for themselves, being the meaning and support for each other, they will replace some memories with others. They may not completely erase it, but they will look back on these memories without painful regrets.

#bg 3 astarion #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x mc #astarion spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #bg3 spoilers #esbern #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #astarion x male tav

[ascendingtostardust]

Yet To Wander

Chapter Two

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: talk of first date nervousness, brief mention of food, pretty much just fluff this chapter

A/n: here’s part 2 to YTW (finally)! Catch up with part 1 here and feel free to let me know what you think :)

You pick your phone up and smirk at Sam’s text, letting it slide back out of your hand onto the cold countertop of your bathroom vanity to continue getting ready.

Don’t text back too quickly, but don’t make him wait too long, you thought. Getting lost in your head for a moment, another text came through to bring you back to reality.

‘Also we’re still good for 7, right? I don’t want to rush you or anything 🤪’

Throwing Annie’s silly texting rules for dating out of your mind, you slide your phone closer to you again and confirm that 7 is perfect. It felt silly worrying about how fast to text back, what emojis to use and not use, and what kind of language to use with Sam. It all just felt so…natural.

After staying up way too late messaging him the first night you matched and then almost all day the following day, it was an easy decision to give him your number when he not-so-smoothly asked. The two of you had been texting for just a few days, but you knew you were on a slight time crunch and getting the first date out of the way was something that needed to happen as soon as possible. If Sam didn’t end up working out as a possible wedding date, you’d need to either get back on the market or accept that you’re attending a wedding solo after sending in your RSVP with a plus one.

Sam was actually the one who brought up the idea of taking you out, stating that the only thing you needed to do was tell him when you were free and then show up to the address he provided. To ease your mind and try to dispel any initial worries that he may just be sending you to a random abandoned parking lot, he did tell you right away that you’d be meeting him at a botanical garden just outside of the city. He offered to pick you up so that you didn’t have to drive yourself over there, but Annie agreed that it would be best for you to drive yourself and meet him there in case he turned out to be a total creep.

Sam texted you the last little detail of the date that you needed to know just a few hours before you’d be meeting him at the garden, keeping the rest a complete secret.

‘By the way, wear something comfortable tonight!! I can send you a pic of what I’m wearing when I get dressed so that you know what to go for if you want 😌’

Not sure what you were getting yourself into when hesitantly agreeing to receive a photo from an -almost- stranger, you were pleasantly surprised with what he sent back just a few minutes later. It was a mirror selfie taken in, what you assumed to be, his sizable walk-in closet. He donned a pair of loose grey pants with white stripes, a basic black tshirt, and simple blue sneakers. You found yourself holding back a smile as you looked over the photo, taking in him as well as his environment. A minute later, another text came in from Sam:

‘Oh and I’m bringing a sweatshirt!’

His energy and clear excitement about the date he had planned was infectious and much different from the men you had gone out with before, who seemed to feel obligated to go out instead of actually wanting to. It was strange, typically you found yourself at least a little nervous and panicky when it came to a first date but with Sam you realized you were actually excited to meet him and spend time with him.

You would never voice these feelings, of course, especially to Annie who insisted on asking for updates at least twice a day since you told her that you and Sam had begun texting. She knew that you had a date with him tonight and that’s all she was going to know about it until you decided to share more.

With the help of Sam’s reference photo, you chose an outfit that made you feel good but was also comfortable enough for whatever he had planned. You had never been to the garden, having looked at it online numerous times after moving to the city but never getting the chance to get over there. It looked beautiful, but you weren’t sure how much there would be to do there at 7pm on a random Friday night. When 6:30 rolled around, you looked in the mirror once more before turning your bathroom light off and grabbing the sweatshirt you had laid on your bed along with your bag, saying a quick goodbye to Annie and heading out the door.

The drive to the garden was rather uneventful, the sun already dipping below the horizon when you arrived and texted Sam where you were parked so that he could find you. Only a moment later you heard a light tap on your window and jumped slightly, looking over to see Sam slightly crouched to give you a smile and wag of his fingers. Again, any anxiety that had creeped in during the drive completely melted away when you saw him, excitedly grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and climbing out of the car.

Sam didn’t think twice before opening his arms and hesitantly going in for a hug, not sure if it was okay with you, which you immediately stepped into to hug him back.

“Hi,” you heard him breathe out before pulling away from you. “I’m glad you found the place, I know it’s a little tucked away back here.”

‘Tucked away’ it was. So much so that you almost drove right past the entrance, which essentially was just a wide gravel road that eventually led to a mansion made of tan stone. Cut into the beautiful mansion were tall white windows, two of which from the upper level held a large white ‘sheet’ against the side of the building. You didn’t think much of it, knowing that you’d enjoy whatever Sam had up his sleeve for the evening.

“It actually wasn’t too bad! It’s my first time here, though, so I’m excited to see what this place is all about.” You smile at him, noting the slight pink of his cheeks and wondering if yours look the same. He was somehow even prettier in person and you tried not to get too flustered.

“Well I’m not sure how much of the grounds we’ll be exploring tonight, but I think you’ll enjoy what we’ve got planned for tonight.” He turned to begin walking towards the mansion in the distance along a dirt walking path lined with tall trees.

“Shall we?” He asked, motioning towards the path and extending his arm in an ‘after you’ gesture.

“We shall!” You try not to show your giddiness as you fall into step with him, conversation slowly freely and easily between the two of you as you get closer to the building. A large banner comes into view just before you reach an opening, ‘Welcome to Movie Night In the Garden!’ written in red letters printed across it.

“Movie night?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. “What movie are we seeing?” A smile spread m across your lips in response to his own as he looked over to gauge your reaction to his little surprise.

“Well, you see, I came across a flier for this event a day after we started talking and after seeing what movie was playing tonight, I knew I had to take you here. It was just too perfect…with you looking for a wedding date and all.”

“Sam!” You giggle, “what movie is it?”

“Uh…27 Dresses?” He responds, a hint of worry that you were about to tell him that you despise the movie evident in his voice. You see him glance over at you to gauge your reaction, but all he’s met with is a smile from you and you can almost feel the relief flood through him.

“Oh, I love that movie!” You assure him, getting close enough to him to playfully bump your shoulder into his while continuing to walk to the makeshift viewing area. “Who doesn’t?”

Finally getting a look at the clearing in front of the mansion that the garden employees turned into a viewing area for the event almost took your breath away. The sun had fully rested for the day during your walk over with Sam and the string lights of pale yellow, strung in a zig-zag pattern across the top of the lawn between bordering trees on either side of the viewing area had been switched on. They did little to illuminate the space, clearly meant to cause little distraction from the movie that would be projected onto the side of the mansion on the giant white sheet that you had noted before.

Blankets were set up around the sizable yard, the plush green grass underneath providing support and comfort to those getting their areas set up for the evening. Young girls and their moms, older friend groups, and even a few couples clearly on a date night just like you were were amongst the dozens of people tossing their blankets on the ground and getting snacks and drinks set up around them.

“Here okay?” Sam asked, motioning to the open space towards the back of the crowd that you had found.

“That’s perfect,” you respond, coming back to the moment after getting lost in observation. You weren’t sure if you were talking about the spot in the grass or the date itself, but either way the statement would be truthful.

Sam lets a tan tote bag slide off his shoulder, which you hadn’t even noticed him holding before, and into the grass softly before crouching down to pull out a deep green blanket with black fringe around the edges, an elegant sun woven onto the material in black. He laid it down carefully, smoothing his large hands over to make sure that it laid just right, and motioned for you to sit.

“Please make yourself comfortable as I prepare our snacks for the evening.”

You take a seat on the blanket, legs folded in front of you, and lean back on your hands to watch Sam pull small containers of miscellaneous snacks out of the tote bag and set them up between the two of you meticulously. A bowl of veggies next to a larger bowl of hummus, individual ziplock bags filled with pre-popped popcorn, a bowl filled with various cheeses and a small cup of honey with, what looked like, dried fruit sprinkled in between, and lastly, chocolate covered strawberries.

“Sam, this is…you didn’t have to do all this for a first date, I would’ve been fine with a snickers bar from the concession stand over there.” You laugh lightly and watch his cheeks turn a light hue of pink again.

“Well I forgot to ask what kind of food you like so I just figured I’d bring a little of everything.” He smiled bashfully at you, nervously picking at the skin around his nails as he settled in next to you on the other side of the spread he just laid out. “Oh! And I dipped the strawberries this morning so I hope they came out okay.”

Just like over text, his excitement about this date was infectious and also evident in the amount of effort that he put in to make sure that things went well. You opened your mouth to tell him that no guy had ever even bought you flowers, let alone dipped strawberries for you for a first date. Just as the words were about to slip past your lips, though, the lights dimmed further and the first frame of the movie was projected onto the white sheet hanging against the mansion as an employee greeted everyone through a microphone.

The movie began to play and you and Sam exchanged small glances and timid smiles every few minutes, though you swore you could feel him looking at you more often than you caught him. Eventually, though, the snacks he brought were effectively picked through and Sam had packed them up to confidently take their place beside you, sitting almost close enough to touch your hip with his. The closer he got, the more your heartbeat quickened and the harder it was to focus on the movie playing in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt his warm fingers brush softly against yours and lay still on top of your hand until Sam got the courage to intertwine his fingers with yours, both of you still looking straight ahead. It didn’t feel awkward, though, like the first time holding hands with someone new typically did. It felt natural, it felt right. As you crossed through to the second half of the film, you let your head fall to rest on his shoulder, padded by his thick sweatshirt adorning a faded Michigan logo.

You didn’t know it, but he almost leaned down and kissed the top of your head because it felt right…but instead he began rubbing the top of your hand gently with his thumb and all you could do was smile.

#im going to be honest I did not proof read so ignore any mistakes thank you :)))) #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #yet to wander fic #greta van fleet

[xmalereader]

Lord Morpheus X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Summary: Dream of the Endless has returned back to the Dreaming after being captured for nearly a century. He enters his realm hopping to see his husband again only to find out that he’s gone to the Waking world with no memory of Morpheus or the Dreaming.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Matthew the raven, Morpheus being himself, mentions of marriage, past memories, amnesia AU, self doubt, reunited.

Word count: 4.2k

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His realm was in ruins, everyone gone. Both nightmares and dreams have left the Dreaming claiming that their king had abandoned them and to never return back, leaving Lucienne on her own to watch over the Dreaming as it fell apart in front of her, having no way of fixing it. After one hundred years the King of dreams finally returns home after escaping his captors, free from the cage he was sealed in for a hundred years.

Upon his return he began to rebuild the Dreaming, fixing up his own realm and bringing everyone back. Both dreams and nightmares had retuned back to the Dreaming were new changed began. Dream had thought that everyone returned but, one specific person was still missing. His husband.

Dreams husband was still missing with no word or return. He had thought that his husband had abandoned him and wished to no longer return back to the Dreaming. That was until Lucienne provided her king what really happened to his husband during the years that he was imprisoned. His trustworthy companion explained to him that his husband stayed for the last eighty years before leaving the realm and into the Waking.

His husband had no control over the realm and no way of fixing it either, he felt hopeless and had no choice but to leave his home behind. Ever since he’s left he’s been in the Waking world, starting his new life where he wouldn’t feel so alone. Dream of the Endless, himself wanted to know where he was now. He wanted to know if he was safe and if he still wished to return back to the Dreaming, back to his side where he belonged.

“Matthew.” Dream called out to his raven who flew down next to him. “Sir.” The young raven says with a bow of his head, glancing up at the lord who bends down on one knee, eyeing the raven as he speaks. “You are to fly to the waking and search for my husband.”

The raven ruffled his feathers, cocking it’s head to the side in questioning. “Could you be a bit specific of what he could look like?” Matthew didn’t want to disrespect Dream but he was a simple raven who also needed help. Dream reached inside his cloak, his fingers grazing over a silver necklace as he pulls it out. A silver lining with a locket that contained an image of his husband. The Dream lord shows the raven, giving his companion an image of who is to search for.

With that, Matthew flies off into the waking world where he is to search for the missing man. During the ravens journey he flies through various towns and cities, searching high and low for Dreams husband, only to report back each night with no news. Each day goes by without a sign of his husband and he was growing restless.

Dream wasn’t one to ask for help, his siblings knew that. But he and no choice but to ask for it this one time as he pays his sister, Death, a visit. Arriving to her own realm as she stood with a proud smile on her face, waiting for her own brothers arrival.

“Brother.” Her voice is soft and comforting and could lure anyone to her. “Sister.” Dream gives a small nod as she approached Dream, wrapping her arm around his as the two walked around her own realm. “What bring you here?” She asks, wishing to know why he was visiting unexpectedly.

Dream turns to Death as he asks. “My Husband is missing and I cannot find him. Do you know of his whereabouts?” He was anxious to know if his husband was well and if he wished to return back home. “He’s well.” Death breaths out, her smile slowly fading to a worried one. “But, you won’t like the situation he is in.” She explains, feeling Dream tense.

“What’s wrong?”

Death bites her lip, letting go of his arm as she fidgets with her fingers nervously. Her actions causing Dreams concern to grow worse. “Death—“

“He had an accident.” She finally says. “After years of staying in the Dreaming he grew hopeless, unable to help with your realm. He went looking for you, spent years searching and found nothing. During his time in the Waking he was unable to return back to the Dreaming due to your absence and your power no longer being present. He made himself at home in the waking and continued to wait, hoping for your return.”

Dream didn’t know if he should be relieved that his husband still believed that he would return back to him or perhaps he blamed himself a bit knowing that his husband trying to return was something he caused on his own end.

“If he is in the Waking world then I must find him.” Dream is close to leaving immediately until his sister stops him. “He won’t remember you.” Her words throw him off, confused and angry.

Death can feel his anger as she quickly corrects herself. “He won’t remember you due to his accident, his time in the Waking caused him to get hurt and majority of his memories are gone. When I went to visit him he didn’t remember me but knew who I was, he doesn’t remember the Dreaming nor does he remember being married to the Lord of Dreams.”

Dream shakes his head refusing to listen to his sister. This shouldn’t have happened while he was gone, he shouldn’t have ever left his realm and now he faces the consequences after all these years. “Where is he?” His gaze grows dark as he turns to his sister who only sighed. She was used to his attitude and the way he spoke to her was something she’s grown used to hearing.

“Morpheus.” His sister voice grows stern, getting her brothers attention. “If I tell you, please—be patient with him. He needs time to remember and perhaps your presence can help but it will take time.”

Dream didn’t have time, he’s lost all the time he had and now he’s being made to lose even more. But, his sister was making a point. If his husband didn’t remember him then it’s best to take things slow, no matter how long it takes he’s willing to continue waiting for the one he loves.

Death gives Dream the details of his husbands whereabouts and where to find him. Once he leaves his sisters realm he returns back to the Waking where he finds his husband living in a flat near the city, sharing with two other mortals that he does not know of. He watched from a distance as his husband leaves the flat, a smile grazing his lips as he makes his way to work.

“We can’t just follow him all day.” Matthew is the first to break the silence as he stood on a bench, watching their lord as their eyes shift away from the man and to his raven. “I’ll speak with him once he is alone. For now, I don’t wish to disturb him yet.” Like his sister said, time is all it takes.

Matthew hops onto the bottom side of the bench, heading tilting in curiosity as he asks. “Sir, with all due respect but, would your husband be like you? Doesn’t he contain some power or magic inside of him that could frighten him if he were to find out?”

Dream gives off a faint smile, shaking his head. “Y/n does not hold any power within him. He was a mortal when we first met before exchanging vows of marriage, making him immortal and to stay by my side. He does not hold any power.” He explains to the raven who caws in surprise by the idea of dreams husband being immortal and living for years, going through many centuries together.

“I task that you keep an eye on him.” Dream adds, getting the ravens attention. “I’ll do my best to make time, but the Dreaming needs their king.” He stands from his seat, startling Matthew as he puffed his wings. “Would you like me to report back?” He questions.

“Yes, report back to me if anything unusual happens or if perhaps he gets a memory—let me know.”

Matthew nods with a small bow before taking off, flying towards the direction that Y/n walked too while Dream returned back to his realm to continue his duties, creating new dreams and nightmares while his home is recreated into something new. Everyday Matthew would fly into Dreams chambers, providing him a report of his husband.

During their third week he hears Matthew fly down, landing on the chair as he began to report. “Your highness, your husband seems to be doing fine like always—unfortunately, no memory jog but,” Matthew goes silent for a bit, ruffling his wings in a nervous matter as Dream looks up from his book, raising a brow in questioning. “But?” He asks, allowing the raven to continue.

“But, he’s always getting himself into trouble. He nearly got hurt, again, while going out with his roommates. Humans aren’t so bright.” The raven mumbled out while Dream frowns deeply at the thought of his husband getting hurt or injured. “He did arrive back home safely tonight.” Matthew quickly adds, moving down the chair that he stood on and onto the armrest where he could get a better view of Dream.

Matthew already knew how protective Dream could be when it comes towards his husband, but their wasn’t much that he can do after his loved one lost their memories. He spends all day and night in the library and chambers trying to find a way to help his husband get his memories back, but nothing was found and he wasn’t going to give up yet.

“Matthew, I give you permission to disrupt any trouble that approaches my husband as long as you stay safe too.” Dream instructs as the raven sighs to himself but nods. “Of course, sir.” He responds back before taking off and flying back to the waking to continue his own job. While Dream goes back to his own duties again.

A week goes by and Matthew hasn’t returned from the waking, causing the Dream lord to grow worried over his missing companion. He had asked Lucienne if she’s seen his raven only for her to shake her head and letting him know that she hasn’t heard from him. The confirmation of his raven missing brings him dread, not knowing if Matthew had been injured or perhaps killed. He couldn’t lose another raven like how he lost Jessamy. He’d let Lucienne know that he would be visiting the Waking world and leaving her in charge of the realm while he searches for his raven.

Dream knew the worry Lucienne felt about him leaving to the waking, but he promised her that he would return back home and wouldn’t allow another capture to happen. When he arrives to the waking he thinks of all the places his raven could have been, mentioning places that he last saw Y/n as Matthew kept a close eye on the other. He walks through the town, his eyes moving left and right as he tried to get a small glimpse of his raven, his distraction causes a great disturbance as he collides into someone, stumbling back in his steps and holding his arms out to hold the other person still.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see where I was going.” Dream goes still at the familiar voice, looking up to see Y/n against his chest with wide eyes full of confusion and embarrassment. “I—“ Y/n is quick to straight himself from his grasp, stepping back shyly as he continues to apologize. “Again, I apologize! I was in a rush and wasn’t paying attention.” He bent down to collect his things that had fallen from his grasp.

Dream didn’t think twice as he got down on one knee to help him collect his things, taking notice of several different books about birds. He raised a brow and hands them to him. “It’s alright.” His voice startles the other as he takes the book from his hands. “You seem to have an eye for birds.” Dream suddenly says.

Y/n chuckles, placing the books back inside his bag as he nodded. “I’ve recently found a bird who was being tormented by teenagers. I was able to scare them off but the poor thing couldn’t fly.” He frowns as he continues. “They damaged his wing and I’m the process of helping it.” He finally zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, giving Dream one last smile. “Anyways, thank you and sorry for troubling you.” He gives him a wave before rushing off again, leaving Dream behind.

At the mention of ‘birds’ Dream can help but grow curious if perhaps Matthew was the one who had gotten injured and had fallen into the caring hands of his husband who’d always had a soft spot for many people and creatures. He watched his husband disappear into the distance, grinning a little as he turned around to follow him.

—

Y/n didn’t expect himself to take care of a raven after scaring off the teenagers who were hurting the poor thing. He always hated the kids around his neighborhood, always causing trouble and ruining his day. So, imagine his surprise when he picks up the raven who doesn’t thrash or peck him and allows him to be taken. He had brought the creature inside without his roommates knowing, keeping the bird in his room and on a makeshift bedding that he created for the raven.

He wasn’t an expert with taking care of animals but that didn’t stop him from learning as he bought books about various birds and anatomy books that’ll help him take care of the raven and make things a little easier for him. After his little disturbance with the strange man he was able to rush back home where he runs to his room, giving his roommates a slight greeting and then slamming his door shut while locking it.

“Alright,” he tossed his bag on the bed and takes out all the books and material he’s boughten. The raven stood perched on his bookshelf, wing tucked in while the other stood out.

“Come here, little one.” Y/n holds his hand out to the raven who jumps down onto his hand, claws wrapping around his fingers as Y/n smiles softly before making his way over to his bed and letting the raven step down into the soft bedding. “Let see here.” He gently reaches out to touch the ravens injured wing, frowning at the stare as he sighs to himself. “Damn teens, always causing trouble around here.” He mumbled to himself, opening a few books as he reads through the information.

“Well, from what it looks like your wing isn’t entirely broken but you are injured so you’ll need time to heal before you can fly off again.” Y/n helps the raven get patched up and getting his wing wrapped up, letting it sit by its side as the raven cocked its head to the side and then back to Y/n. “There.” The other smiles at his work and helps the raven back into the bookshelf that it enjoyed staying on. “It’ll take some time to heal but at least your well now, let me see if I have any food to provide.” He leaves his bedroom and rushes into the kitchen, searching for anything that’ll satisfy the raven.

He finds some berries in the fridge and sighs deeply, shrugging to himself as he takes the container with him back to his bedroom where he finds the raven in the same spot he left him. “I couldn’t find anything else but berries, but I heard that ravens can eat these.” He takes out a few and sets them in front of the raven while he turned back to his books, focusing on the wording as the raven eyes the berries. Matthew wasn’t too hungry nor was he starving, he was considered a dream now and can last days without eating before he finally reaches the stake of hunger. Matthew didn’t want to disappoint the other nor did he want to get caught so, he had no choice but to eat the berries in front of him.

Y/n closed the book in front of him, setting it aside as he turns back to the raven with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be back to normal in no time.” He reassured the raven before looking out the window to see the sun setting. “Night is approaching and I have an early shift tomorrow.” He says to himself as he walked around the room, putting stuff away and getting ready for bed. He lets the raven wander around, taking notice that it followed him around the room.

He can’t help but chuckle at the ravens actions before he crawls into bed. “Want to sleep here tonight?” He coos out, helping the raven onto his bed and patting the extra pillow next to him. Matthew hesitates until he’s moving towards the pillow and plopping down, tucking his head in his feathers as Y/n turns off the lights and lies back, sighing to himself before closing his eyes. Matthew gives it some time before he’s opening his own eyes to spy on the sleeping man. He comes to a stand and quietly moves around the bed.

“I see you’ve gotten comfortable.”

Matthew is startled by Dreams voice, looking up to see Lord Morpheus standing over them. The raven chuckles nervously as he glanced down at his injured wing. “Sorry boss, I got a little delayed here.” He moves his wing a little before focusing back on Y/n.

“I see.” Dreams eyes trail over to Y/n who remained sleeping, curled up in bed while gripping his pillow close. “He’s taken care of you, I was beginning to think that something happened to my trustworthy raven.” He walks up to his sleeping husband and brushed his fingers against his cheek, pushing strands of hair out of his face as a small smile breaks on his lips.

“I think you should tell him.” Dream had forgotten about Matthews presences, pulling away from his husband and turning back to his raven. “That is something I cannot do. He doesn’t remember me nor will it be easy to make him remember.”

“So, why not start over?” Matthew suggests, knowing that it could be a good or bad idea. “I know starting over can be tough but, perhaps you can reconnect with him again. Maybe that’ll get his memories back if he were to be around you or spend time with you.” Matthew is standing next to Y/n’s head near the pillow he lied out for him. “Anything familiar could bring everything back.”

Dream thought about the option of starting over again, but he didn’t know if things would get better. He spent years with Y/n and falling in love with him to the point where they got married, he wanted all of that back again without starting over. He wanted his husband back in his realm and into the Dreaming he wanted him to remember all the little things they did together or know about each other. He was selfish and wanted it all back.

“I’m afraid that won’t work.” Dream spoke softly, his eyes landing on Matthew. “His memories are gone, all I can do is try to bring them back but nothing works—“ He knows that he would have to let him go. He’d have to watch his husband as he falls in love with someone else and starts a new life, something he couldn’t bare to see.

“He would have to start over.” Dream sighs out, frowning to himself. “Stay with him until you heal, once your able to fly again you’ll return to the Dreaming.”

“What? That’s it, you’re just gonna give up?” Matthew didn’t like this at all. “You can’t do that! Maybe you can try a bit harder or reconnect—“ the raven looks up to Dream only to see him frowning down at him, his face stern and serious causing the raven to stutter out a small apology. “Of course, sir. I’ll return back to the dreaming once I am healed.” With a satisfied nod from Dream he gives Y/n one last glance before disappearing in the shadows, leaving Matthew alone with Y/n.

The next few days are spent with Y/n checking up on Matthew everyday, making sure that he’s getting better and healing up. After a week he’s able to remove the bandages and he was in good condition to fly—almost. Due to Matthew not flying for days his wings needs to get used flying again which is why both him and Y/n are in the park on Monday morning.

“Hopefully this helps, there’s no else around so it’ll be easier to do this.” Y/n holds Matthew in his hands, walking into a clearing as he smiles. “Ready?” He asks, knowing that he wouldn’t get a response back from Matthew. He gently bounced Matthew in his hands, letting him spread his wings as he jumps along his hand and flapped his wings, getting used to the feeling again as Y/n laughs, tossing him a little higher in the air.

“Come on! You can do it!”

Y/n’s motivation causes Matthew to flap his wings even harder to the point where he’s back to flying in the area, circling around the trees and landing on a branch. Y/n smiles widely. “You did it.” He says to himself before a soft sigh escapes his lips, knowing that he won’t be seeing the raven anymore.

As he spares the raven another glance he turns around to head back to his flat only to see the same strange man that he bumped into a few days back standing in front of him.

“Oh—“

“I see you’ve taken care of my raven.” Dream says as Matthew flies down from the branches, landing next to his side on the ground as he glanced up at Dream and then cocked his head to Y/n.

Y/n is surprised but yet, not. “I didn’t think he belonged to anyone.” He mumbled. “He did seem docile but always thought he was a wild raven.” He chuckles at nervously as Dream hums to himself. “Yes, he’s my companion and I’m grateful that he’s back. Thank you.”

Y/n shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was just doing the right thing.” He slips his hands into his own pockets, tilting his head to the side as he continued. “As a matter of fact he reminds me of an old friend.” His lips form a small smile. “Her name was Jessamy, she was also a raven who visited me in my dreams but, she hasn’t come around lately, perhaps it was all in my head but your raven brought back that memory. I didn’t think of remembering something like after my incident.”

Dream was frozen, his eyes wide as he listened to him talk about Jessamy. His old companion who died tragically trying to save him from his imprisonment. She had stayed by his but also visited Y/n in his dreams in order to give him recurrence that he wasn’t alone and that someday he will return. He didn’t know if this memory of his was enough to bring everything back. “She must’ve been a very good friend.”

“Of course she was! She always came to visit no matter the day she always came.” Y/n can’t help but continue on. “She always brought a companion with her too sometimes, I don’t remember their face but I do remember their name.” He looks up to Dream and with a soft voice he says.

“Morpheus.”

Morpheus doesn’t move nor does he react. He doesn’t know what to do or say after hearing his name slip from his lovers lips. He wished he could pull him close, kiss his lips again and be able to make him his again.

“Morpheus.” His name is called out again, pulling him out of his thoughts as he looks over to his husband who was smiling. The same smile that he fell in love with many years ago as the sudden realization hits him. “Y/n.”

Y/n chuckles, his eyes filling up with tears as he repeats his name again. “Morpheus.” He’s finally remembering everything; the Dreaming, Lucienne, Mervyn, Jessamy, the dreams and nightmares and even the day they exchanged vows. He remembers the day Morpheus didn’t return and his realm began to decay, he tried his best to help but he was only immortal, still human but no Endless. He left the Dreaming to search for Morpheus but during his search he got into an accident that caused his memories his disappear. When he was told about his memories he cried for days, wishing that he could remember them. Wishing that the empty feeling in his heart could be full again but nothing could complete it.

Here he stands, in front of Morpheus as he tears up. Mixed feelings of happiness and sadness as Morpheus quickly steps up and pulls him into his arms, his hand cradling his head as he sobs into his chest. The two were finally reunited after a century, holding each other close and taking in each other’s warmth. The two have missed the feeling of being whole again.

#male reader #lord Morpheus x male reader #lord Morpheus #the sandman #the sandman x male reader #dream x male reader #dream #dream of the endless #tom sturridge #Amnesia #AU