#i didn't read the kitchen clutter part

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.8k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.

jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .

possessive, dominant, & stalker

──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.

Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.

Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.

Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.

There is nothing now.

Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.

She would be happy. And you would be, too.

Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.

Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.

Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.

A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?

What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.

Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.

It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.

A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.

Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.

A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.

She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.

A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.

You.

Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.

"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.

Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.

Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.

This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.

Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.

It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.

The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.

With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.

As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.

A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.

Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.

An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.

Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.

Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-

A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.

The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.

In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?

With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.

How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?

Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.

Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways? 

You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.

Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.

The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.

There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.

In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.

A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.

"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.

Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva. 

Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.

Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.

As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.

With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.

Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.

Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.

Oh, one day. One day...

Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.

Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.

Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.

Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.

Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.

You're the first to break through the quiet.

"What the fuck?"

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ RECURRING VISIONS

OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞

for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!

#moonfairy #gender neutral reader #yandere #resident evil #leon kennedy #ada wong #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong x reader #jill valentine x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #ada wong imagine #jill valentine imagine #carlos oliveira imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere ada wong #yandere jill valentine #yandere carlos oliveira #yandere resident evil #Spotify

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

#follower event #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

[waratah-moon]

Gremlin

Four times Dustin was clueless, and the one time Lucas spelled it out for him. Shout out to @lfaewrites for proofreading & encouragement!

masterlist / read on ao3 < bonus smutty drabble posted there ;) I Think We’re Alone Now < smut add on

Pairing: dad!Eddie x mom!reader

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Teen pregnancy (not elaborated on), cheerleader!reader, shitty parents, enemies to friends platonic!steddie Steal my writing and I will hex you

1. Eddie’s trailer

Eddie opened the door of his trailer and was very surprised to see Dustin Henderson on his doorstep.

Dustin didn't wait to be invited inside, pushing past a bewildered Eddie, “do you have my book report? I lost it after the last Hellfire meeting and I really don't want to rewrite it."

He'd never been inside Eddie's trailer before. It was slightly cluttered but in a homey-lived-in kind of way. The walls were lined with baseball caps, and a collection of novelty mugs hung above the couch.

“What, no hello? You need to work on your manners, Henderson.”

“Sorry,” Dustin looked around the living room, taking in an array of stuffed animals on one end of the couch and a pile of picture books on the coffee table. He wasn’t about to judge what Eddie Munson did in his spare time. “Nice place. Do you have my book report?”

"The one on Grapes of Wrath? I wondered who that belonged to. Let me find it," Eddie disappeared into what Dustin could only assume was his bedroom.

Dustin looked around the trailer, eyes landing on a couple of baby photos that he guessed were of Eddie. He stepped forward to get a closer look, but stopped when he felt something under his foot; it was a small toy that looked a lot like the Muppet Babies version of Fozzie Bear. Before he could investigate further, the phone rang.

Eddie came racing out of his room and breathlessly answered the phone. "Hello?" He waited for the person on the other end to respond, a smile crossing his face when they answered. “I mean, maybe. How difficult is it?” Eddie was grinning now and Dustin could swear he was twirling the phone cord like a teenage girl. “I think I can manage that. How did Gremlin do?”

Eddie's smile turned to a soft pout. He spotted Dustin out of the corner of his eye and turned away,  “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Dustin heard him mumble something into the receiver, but couldn't quite make out the words.

Once Eddie hung up the phone he walked into the kitchen and began fiddling with the knobs on the oven.

“Eddie?” Dustin raised his eyebrows as Eddie pulled a casserole dish out of the freezer and put it on the bench.

“Oh, shit. Your thing. Right. I think I know where it is. It got mixed up with the one shot we did last week,” he disappeared again, and Dustin thought he could see a glimpse of a floral patterned bedspread through the door of his room.

Eddie reappeared and handed him a few pieces of paper. "Thanks, man.” Dustin looked at the casserole dish on the bench. “So what’s for dinner?”

Suddenly, Eddie was herding him out of the trailer, “as much as I’d love for you to stay, I have a hot date.”

2. Family Video

Dustin was sitting behind the counter at family video, something Keith had adamantly stated was not allowed. Steve was the only one working, and he didn't care what Dustin did, just happy to have company during the slow part of his shift. Dustin had brought takeout from the diner up the road, only offering to share his fries when Steve had complained. "C'mon, dude, it's gonna stink of fast food in here."

The door jingled and Steve absentmindedly began his ‘welcome to Family Video’ spiel while twisting a Rubik’s cube, only stopping when he looked up at the woman who’d arrived at the counter.

“Real customer-focused service you’ve got here,” you smiled, hoisting the toddler you were holding higher up on your hip.

“Oh hey!” Steve grinned, ducking down so he was on eye level with the little girl, “how’s my favourite Cabbage Patch Kid doing?”

Cabbage Patch Kid? Dustin thought, pushing his food aside to watch the interaction.

The little girl smiled shyly, hiding her head of dark brown curls into the crook of your neck. 

You sighed, “Steve, I’ve told you before, stop insinuating my child looks like a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

“But she has the dimples,” he stood up straighter, poking his tongue out when the little girl showed her face, causing her to emit the world's cutest giggle.

“She gets those from her father, not Coleco,” you kissed your daughter's cheek, smoothing down her unruly hair. “Did Care Bears come in?”

“Sure did,” Steve pulled a tape from the counter below, scanning it.

“Great!” You looked around the store, eyes landing back on Steve. “Can you watch her for a sec while I grab a couple more?”

“‘Course!” Dustin watched as Steve held out his arms and you passed the toddler to him. The little girl’s hands instantly reached to pull for his hair while you darted off to the horror section.

“Not the hair,” Steve groaned, attempting to tilt his head backwards and away from the prying hands.

“Pretty,” the little girl mumbled, tugging a lock of Steve’s hair. Dustin stifled a laugh.

“Me? Why thank you, I think you’re very pretty too, the prettiest little Cabbage Patch Kid around,” he bumped his nose against the toddler’s, kissing her forehead. Dustin gagged. 

The scene was adorable, but it went against everything he thought he knew about Steve Harrington.

You'd found what you were looking for and arrived back at the counter, setting down two more tapes; A Nightmare on Elm Street and Splash.

“Interesting double feature,” Steve remarked, the toddler now clutching her arms tightly around his neck, refusing to let go.

“Date night,” you grinned sheepishly, holding out your arms to collect your daughter. Steve attempted to pry her off his neck, but she was clinging on for dear life.

"Seevie stay," she whined, tightening her grip on the man.

Steve scanned the tapes using his free hand, seemingly unfazed. “Oh, did you hear about Ethan Carroway?”

You dug around in your purse, finding the correct amount of money to pay for the tapes, “and Ivy Tech? I know! How dumb can you be?” You handed over cash.

“I mean, he seemed like the type though, right?” He put the tapes in a plastic bag, a bit of a challenge with only one hand but he managed, handing the bag across the counter to you.

You hummed in agreement. “Some people just don’t change. Others surprise you,” you smiled, taking in the sight of 'King Steve' Harrington pulling faces at your two year old. "C'mon Gremlin, let's get home and see if Dad taped Muppet Babies."

"Aminal?" Your daughter loosened her grip on Steve and looked at you.

"Yep," you held out your arms and she finally let Steve pass her back. You smiled at the man behind the counter. “Thanks Steve, I’ll see you later.”

"See ya," Steve called after you as you exited the store.

Dustin was gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open as he watched Steve go back to fiddling with the Rubik's cube on the counter.

"What the hell was that?" Steve jumped when Dustin spoke, seeming to have forgotten about the young teen's presence.

He managed to keep his cool, nonchalant tone, "what was what?"

"Were you just flirting with her?"

"What?!" Steve sounded offended. "With her? Of course not."

"She has a kid, Steve."

"I know," Steve had turned to look at Dustin now, leaning with his back against the register. "She has a boyfriend too. We went to high school together. She was a cheerleader, I was on the basketball team. We're friends."

"I didn't know you had other friends," Dustin cocked his eyebrow with a grin. He vaguely remembered his mom gossiping with Mrs. Wheeler about a cheerleader who got pregnant a few years ago.

Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to face the front door, "and you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do, Henderson."

Dustin frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Eat your burger."

3. Max’s trailer

Storm clouds hung over Hawkins, and rain had been attempting to sprinkle all morning. Riding their bikes all the way to the Forest Hill Trailer Park probably wasn't the smartest idea, but it was Dustin and Lucas's only mode of transport since Steve decided to pick up more shifts at Family Video.

They pulled up to Max’s trailer, the wheels of their bikes spitting up gravel as they skidded to a halt. Max had watched them ride up from the window, and she was already standing in the doorway when they reached the porch.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to see a movie, or go to the arcade," Lucas asked, he always sounded nervous talking to Max.

"Or do anything," Dustin added. "We're so bored." It was true. Mike was on his weekly phone call to El, and since the mall had burnt down the activities in Hawkins had become severely limited.

“I can’t," she had her headphones slung around the base of her neck, her trusty Walkman in her hand. "I’m babysitting.”

"Babysitting? Since when do you babysit?" Dustin peered over her shoulder inside the trailer, but Max moved to block his view. Over her shoulder he could see an animated movie playing on the TV, it looked like the Care Bears.

“Since we moved in here,” she shrugged.

“Huh?”

"I like her parents, they're cool, so I offered to look after Gremlin whenever they wanted some alone time. Plus her mom always brings over cookies. This time it’s peanut butter chocolate."

"You offered?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" She squinted, her tone accusatory.

"Kind of, yeah," Dustin said, groaning when Lucas elbowed him in the ribcage.

“What Dustin means is that you seem to have other interests that don’t coincide with babysitting.”

Max rolled her eyes, moving to put her headphones back on.

“Wait! Can we at least come in and hang out?”

“Nope. I’ve got other interests that don’t coincide with hanging out,” her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she shut the door in their faces.

Lucas sighed, but Dustin was already making his way to the trailer opposite Max’s.

“What are you doing?” Lucas watched, before quickly following after his friend.

“Eddie’s home, his van is out front.”

“And there's another car next to it, he has someone over," Lucas added, pointing at the red Ford Fairmont parked next to the van.

But Dustin was already knocking on the trailer door to listen to Lucas.

The door swung open, revealing a flushed and wild haired Eddie. His eyes were dark, and his tee-shirt was on inside out; when he took in that it was Dustin at the door, his expression turned from annoyed to pissed.

"Henderson? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We were in the area," he started, turning to see that Lucas had not joined him on the porch but had stopped halfway between Eddie and Max's trailer. He continued, "do you want to hang out?"

"I'm a bit busy right now, dude," Eddie folded his arms across his chest, still glaring at Dustin.

"Do you have a girl over?" Dustin tried to peer into the trailer but only managed to spot a bowl of popcorn and a couple of VHS tapes on the coffee table.

Eddie rolled his eyes, "sure let's go with that. Are we done here?" He started to shut the door, but Dustin stuck his arm out.

"Wait! Who is it? Is it Shelley Keibler? She was totally flirting with you at lunch last week."

Eddie looked disgusted, "ugh, no, dude. She buys from me and she was flirting to get a discount; which I didn't give her, by the way."

"Then who?"

"Don't worry about it, Henderson. I’ll see you on Monday." He grinned and shut the door.

4. Hawkins High

Dustin thought Eddie was acting strange. He hadn’t said anything about Dustin’s ill timed visit when he saw him on Monday, and he hadn’t been in the cafeteria at lunch on Tuesday or Wednesday. Mike had sworn he’d seen Eddie in the library when he’d gone to get money off his sister. He seemed back to his old loud, rambunctious self on Thursday, but during Hellfire on Friday he was constantly watching the clock. When the clock struck 6pm, he was packing up, even though they were in the middle of a high tension fight.

“I’m sorry guys, I have places to be.”

“Where?”

“Oh, that little bar on the corner of nunya and business,” he grinned, stuffing his binders in his bag.

Dustin followed him out to the parking lot, expecting to watch him get in his van and drive off. Instead he was greeted with the same red Fairmont coupe that had been parked in front of his trailer. 

The following week proceeded much the same as the week prior, except this week Eddie cancelled Hellfire. And Eddie never cancelled Hellfire. The table erupted in disgruntled yelling when he broke the news over lunch on Friday, but he just sat back in silence, letting the members spit their disdain.

Dustin finally got a chance to speak with Eddie after school was let out, catching up to him in the parking lot as he was leaving.

“What’s going on? Why are you suddenly acting all weird?”

Eddie sighed, looking over at the red Ford that was parked next to Steve’s BMW. “You do know I have a life outside high school and Hellfire, right? I don’t only exist to further your quest, Henderson.”

“I know that-”

“I’ve been busy, alright? I’ve got some stuff going on.” He studied Dustin’s face, as if he was trying to figure out damage caused by a d20. “Look there’s a one shot I’ve been working on,” he grabbed a notebook out of his bag, ripped out a page, and scribbled something down before handing it to Dustin. “Come to this address tomorrow night, 7pm. Bring Wheeler and Sinclair.”

+1. Hellfire Club

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas weren’t sure where they were going, but surprisingly Steve did. In fact Steve hadn’t put up any kind of fight when Dustin asked if he could drive them somewhere for DnD. Sure he’d sighed, but that sigh was quickly followed by a shrug and a “sure.”

Steve pulled up in front of a small one story house, parking his car behind Gareth’s. Two cars were already in the driveway, a two-toned station wagon, and the red Ford Fairmont that seemed to be everywhere.

Eddie swung the door open, a grin on his face. “You’re here!” He glanced over the boys in front of him before his eyes landed on Steve. “Harrington?”

Steve held his hands up. “Don’t worry, I’m just dropping them off. Thought I’d say hi.” He pointed to the station wagon in the driveway. “Is that your new car?” Eddie nodded and Steve added, “a wagon. Very sensible.”

“I’ll have you know that’s a ‘74 AMC Matador. It has a V8 401 engine, 230 horsepower-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, I have no idea what any of that means.”

“You drive an E23. Dude, a 733i!”

“Doesn’t mean I know anything about it,” Steve shrugged. “Finally traded in the van for a family car, hey?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned into the house. “Babe, Harrington’s here,” he called out, before turning back to glare at Steve.

After a moment, you appeared behind Eddie, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Steve, hey!” Dustin recognised you instantly as the woman from Family Video.

“Hey,” Steve smiled, giving you a little wave. “Wanted to see your new place.”

“Can you stay for a soda? I’ll give you the tour.”

Before Steve could move into the house, Dustin held his arm out to stop him. “Uh,” Dustin looked from you, to Steve, to Eddie, and finally to Mike and Lucas. “What’s going on?”

“Oh right! You guys haven’t met,” Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side, and introduced you to the teens. “This is my girlfriend.”

Once the shock had worn off, Eddie had led the boys inside to the dining room table, where the older Hellfire members were already sitting. You lead Steve in the other direction, making good on your promise of a house tour.

“So this is your place?” Mike took in the surroundings; they were sitting in a dining room that was attached to a small kitchen. Various picture frames dotted the walls and a large potted plant sat next to the china cabinet.

“Yep, we moved in last weekend. The trailer was getting too crowded now that Gremlin’s decided to grow into a tiny human,” Mike had no idea what Eddie was talking about, but Eddie sounded horribly offended at the idea of Gremlin growing. “We’ve been planning the move for ages, but we finally had enough money to do it. Wayne seemed sad to see us go, but I think he’s happy to have the place to himself. Kind of annoying we lost Mayfield as a babysitter, though.”

Dustin seemed to have a faint inkling as to what Eddie was talking about, “I saw your girlfriend at Family Video a few weeks ago with her daughter.”

As if this was the craziest news in the world, Mike blurted out, “a kid?” His eyes darted around the room, finally taking in the several picture frames embedded with the image of a curly haired toddler.

“Yeah, Eddie’s girlfriend has a kid,” Dustin said casually, proud that he’d figured out this fact about his mentor before Mike. “It’s pretty cool you’re a stepdad.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but Gareth, Jeff, and Grant just laughed. “Stepdad ? Henderson, no, no, no.”

Lucas shook his head, pointing to the closest picture frame; the little toddler was sitting on Eddie’s shoulders, her fingers gripping his dark brown curls, identical to her own unruly mess of hair. She looked like a mini version of him, both had mischief gleaming in their chocolate button eyes. “That’s obviously his kid.” 

Like a sign from above signifying the revelation, an egg timer went off in the kitchen.

Dustin choked on his soda. “You have a kid? How did that happen?”

Lucas whacked him on the back, attempting to stop his friend's spluttering. “How do you think it happened, dipshit?” It seemed to work.

“No,” the tips of Dustin’s ears turned pink, his voice still hoarse. “I meant-”

“You want the story,” Eddie grinned, and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant groaned. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. “Settle in boys, for this is a tale for the ages.”

Gareth snorted, “What the hell are you talking about? Indie is the product of too much alcohol and an expired condom.”

“Excuse me, but Gremlin was born from an epic love story that crossed not only class barriers, but changed Hawkins society as we know it.”

Steve entered the dining room with a can of cola, you following close behind him. 

“Babe,” you rolled your eyes, having heard the conversation. You set a plate of pizza rolls down in front of the boys. “I think Gareth is a little closer to the truth. It wasn’t West Side Story .”

“You don’t think our story is romantic?”

“Our story? Sure. Teen pregnancy? Not so much.” Steve snorted.

Dustin had calmed down a bit, but he still had a lot of questions. “Wait, I’m confused. Steve said you were a cheerleader. How did you get with Eddie? You’re way out of his league.”

Surprisingly, Eddie didn’t look offended, instead he pulled you into his lap and tucked his chin over your shoulder, looking at the young teens. “You’re dead right, Henderson, she is way out of my league.” You scoffed, ready to disagree with him but he cut you off, “do you want to tell the story, babe?”

You adjusted yourself so you were sitting on Eddie’s thigh, his hands firmly gripping your waist. “My family moved to Hawkins at the start of my sophomore year. I didn’t really notice Eddie much that first year, he was a junior and we ran in very different circles.”

“I noticed her though. Straight away. Especially when she wore her cheer uniform-”

You flicked him on the shoulder, continuing with your story. “Anyway, school was out for the summer. Remember the heatwave in ‘83? I was driving down Millbrook and it was at least 100 degrees outside and the hood of my car started smoking. So I pulled over and began freaking out, because you know Millbrook, it’s all farmland and there’s no one around for miles.”

“But I just happened to be driving down Millbrook.”

“Yeah, Eddie was my knight in a Metallica cut off. He figured out what was wrong with my car, drove us to the auto shop, bought whatever it was that my car needed and fixed it for me.”

“It was super easy, she’d just run out of-”

You cut him off before he could begin to ramble about cars and the importance of checking the coolant level. “I bought him a milkshake to thank him and we’ve been together ever since.”

“And your kid?” Mike asked through a mouthful of pizza rolls.

“Gareth wasn’t far off. Pretty sure it happened after the homecoming dance that Eddie refused to attend. He snuck in my window when I got home with a bottle of peppermint schnapps and…” you drifted off, noticing the wide eyes at the table, as well as Steve's smirk. “I’ll spare you the details. Nine months later Indie was born.”

"Indie? Like Indiana?" Lucas asked, he wouldn’t admit it but the story was romantic.

"No, Indie like Indigo. Indigo Ripley Munson," Eddie said proudly, and you smiled. He'd snuck Ripley on the birth certificate before you could protest, but you had to admit your daughter couldn't ask for a better role model than the badass heroine from Alien.

It was as if her name summoned her. A bleary eyed toddler in pink footie pajamas entered the dining room, rubbing her eyes.

“Hi sweet pea,” you hoped off Eddie’s thigh, picking up your daughter and smoothing her hair. “Did we wake you?”

“Not tired,” she said, instantly contradicting herself by yawning. “Want Dadda to tell me a story,” she pushed away from you, reaching for Eddie. “With princesses.” 

As much as you wanted to be her favourite, it warmed your heart knowing how much she loved her Dad.

Eddie held out his arms to take her from you and she instantly snuggled against him. "Dad’s playing a game with his friends, do you want to listen? There’s no princesses but there are lots of monsters." She nodded, smiling. 

You knew it was futile to try and get her to go back to sleep now that Eddie had promised her a story. Knowing Eddie it would be a gory and violent story, but having sat in on many of Hellfire's campaigns, Indie was used to it. You thought it was creepy that she was enamoured with monsters, Eddie thought it was adorable.

You crouched down next to Eddie so you were on eye level with your daughter. "See those boys over there? That's Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. Do you want to say hi?"

She stuck out her bottom lip, contemplating the question before shaking her head. Dustin grinned, he liked this kid, she had spirit.

"How did you manage graduating with a kid? I mean Eddie obviously didn't," Mike said. The table went silent. Surprisingly, it was Steve that spoke up.

"He could have graduated, he just chose to put his family first, right Munson?"

Eddie looked at Steve and smiled. You stood up to glare at Mike, "Steve's right, Eddie should have graduated in '84, but he had different priorities that year."

Turning his attention to Mike, Eddie sighed, “My first senior year was when we found out about the pregnancy. My uncle got me a job working nights at the plant, so I slept through most of my morning classes. But the money was good and we were able to afford most of the stuff we needed for a new baby without asking for help. But I failed pretty much all my classes.”

You nodded. “My parents cut me off when they found out we were keeping the baby. They already hated that I was with Eddie and were looking for a reason to disown me; teen pregnancy was it. So aside from the secondhand stuff we got from the Holts’ and the Mitchells’, and that Wayne never made us pay rent, we did it pretty much all on our own. Eddie’s second senior year was also my senior year, but it was our first year with Indie too.”

“I didn’t want her skipping class, she’s too smart to not graduate. So I stayed home with Gremlin. Wayne helped out when he could, but I still managed to miss most of my classes.”

“But now, I have a job that lets us afford daycare and rent, and Eddie’s been working real hard at school. You know what they say, third times the charm.”

“This is my year, I can feel it.”

“Damn right, babe.” You leant down to kiss his cheek. “And Indie and I will be right there cheering you on when you cross that stage.”

It was all too much for Dustin to handle, hearing about this part of Eddie’s life; his girlfriend, his daughter, his connection to Steve. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was filled with a newfound desire to protect his friend; he had a family to think about after all, hell he’d traded in his ratty old van for a station wagon.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin wasn’t sure if he felt more hurt or betrayed that Eddie had kept such a big part of his life a secret.

“I never hid it, Henderson, you just never asked.”

Dustin thought back to what Steve had said all those weeks ago, ‘you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do.’ He was right, Dustin didn’t know that much about Eddie. He knew he was in a band and liked metal music, but he hadn’t asked him much in the way of personal questions.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I-”

Eddie cut him off with a lazy grin, “Relax, Dustin, we’ve got the rest of the year right?” For some reason the use of his first name instantly put Dustin at ease. He let out a breath and smiled at Eddie. “Now are we playing?”

“And that’s our cue,” you nodded at Steve, leaving the boys and Indie to their game.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home and Indie was finally tucked up in bed, Eddie said something that surprised you.

“I think we should make Steve Indie’s godfather.”

“What? You’re not religious.”

“No, I know. I don’t mean it in the whole ‘teaching faith’ way. I just,” he ran his hand through his hair. “I know he’s important to you, and he loves Indie. If something was to happen to us, I know he’d take good care of her.”

“I think that’s a great idea, babe. Is this about what he said to Wheeler?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, he hadn’t wanted to admit that Steve’s approval had affected him. “Maybe.”

You grinned. Steve had been your friend for a long time, since you first moved to Hawkins. You’d known him through his douchebag phase, and you were his only friend from his high school days he’d kept in touch with since he’d mellowed out. But he and Eddie had never gotten along; Eddie was too loud and brash, and Steve still held an air of elitism that although he’d mostly gotten rid of, still reared its ugly head whenever Eddie was around. 

Today, though, the two of them somewhat made an attempt at a truce. “How about we invite him for lunch and ask him?”

Eddie groaned, “ugh, can’t you just ask him?”

“It was your idea!”

“Fine, we’ll do it together.”

Baby steps.

Okay okay... I would really appreciate feedback as I worked my ass off on this one. And guys... I was so nervous my mum read this... that's the first time she's read my writing since I was in high school. @a-lil-pr1ncess @livsters

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson smut #maggie writes #Eddie Munson gremlinverse #dad!eddie

[alrightieaphroditie]

deeper | j.m  series masterlist! | next chapter!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ4.1k an *:·ﾟthis is quite literally two times as long as the first part... oops? lmao i really enjoyed writing this so i hope that everyone enjoys reading it! i have two more parts planned after this, maybe some little drabbles in between or something too? but the series WILL get smuttier as it progresses so i promise you that :) this isn't edited much so if you catch something i didn't... please help ya girl out. hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are hella welcome

synopsis *:·ﾟthe night has finally arrived: joel and ellie are visiting for dinner. afterwards, you learn more about just who joel miller really is. 

to say you were nervous about having joel and ellie over was a complete and total understatement. 

sure, you've had ellie over at your house before. she practically visits almost every day, sometimes staying for ten minutes, sometimes a few hours. it wasn't really her you were worried about, though, if you were being truthful. it was joel coming over that made you anxious. your fears were confirmed when you talked to him last night: you had a small, itsy-bitsy crush on the older man. 

it's not that there was anything wrong with that, either. but you were a child when the outbreak happened, and then you lived most of your life secluded from others. you simply haven't ever had the chance to crush on someone. not that there was ever really anyone worthy of crushing on until now, but that's beside the point. maybe this wasn't even a crush. maybe you just...liked joel? like as a friend?

no. it was a positively, absolutely a crush. 

it was this revelation that had you cleaning your house for most of the day. it wasn't even dirty to begin with. you simply just couldn't sit around, waiting for the moment that ellie and joel appeared on your doorstep. so, you dusted as much as you could, swept up the main areas of your house, and straightened up the small collection of clutter that you had accumulated within the months of being there. 

as the afternoon started to dip into the early evening, you began to prepare the food. you weren't the best cook, truthfully, so you decided to stick with what you did know. which is why you were going to be serving breakfast for dinner. you felt a little silly, but you figured this was better than serving burnt meat or something. besides, ellie had mentioned to you the other day that she had never tried pancakes before, and you had just so happened to trade a few of your blankets for a batch of mix that one of your neighbors had made.

you had just finished plating the last of the bacon you had cooked when you heard heavy footsteps on your porch, accompanied by a sharp, quick knock on the door. wiping your hands on your dishrag, you took a deep breath before making your way to the front entry way. despite your nerves, the smile on your face was genuine, as was the cheer in your voice as you greeted your two guests with a "hi!" 

ellie grinned up at you, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing an oversized flannel that you wondered if it belonged to joel. she gave you a small hug before tilting her head back, sniffing the air. "oh man, it smells amazing in here. what is that?" she asked, leaving the entry way, and rushing into the kitchen without a response. you laughed after her before turning to face joel. 

he stood right in front of you, almost awkwardly. he was holding a giant sack in one hand, and your head tilted in question. "oh, uh," he cleared his throat, motioning to the sack. "ellie mentioned you had a fireplace but hated gathering the wood, so i uh, i brought you some. as a thank you." 

"that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, joel. thank you!" did his cheeks flush? certainly not. right? "you can leave it on the porch if you want. i can carry it in later." he nodded in agreement, setting the bag on the ground as you stepped to the side to let him in. 

“i hope you’re alright with breakfast for dinner,” you started, shutting the door behind joel, and leading him to your kitchen. “i found some pancake mix and wanted to surprise ellie.” your back was to him, but you could hear the stutter in his footsteps. turning back around, you saw him standing still, his eyes cinched at the corners. “is that okay, joel?” 

hearing his name must have snapped him out of his trance, as his dark eyes blinked, and his head shook slightly. “yeah, ‘s fine.” his voice was rough, like he forced the words out of his throat. his hand clenched into a fist, the broken face of his watch catching a ray of light. then his hand relaxed, and he started to close the gap between the two of you. 

“are you sure? because i can try to whip something else up if you- “ 

“said it was fine, hon. i mean it.” his hand brushed against yours briefly as he passed, making his way into the kitchen with ellie. one step forward, two steps back, you thought sadly as you took a breath before walking into the kitchen. 

"are these what i think they are?" the excitement in ellie's voice was notable, which put a smile on your face. ellie was curiously lifting the edge of one pancake on the platter until joel walked to her side, smacking her hand softly to make her let go, murmuring something about having manners that you could just barely hear. 

you handed ellie the platter and then turned her around, guiding her to your small dining table by her shoulders. "they are indeed, ellie bellie. i don't have any syrup, though, which is technically what you're supposed to put on top of them. i do have a few different types of jelly we could use, which is still just as good." 

ellie set the platter of food on the table, and the two of you went back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, carrying plates of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and bacon, some toast, and a small collection of fruit that had started to grow again with the changing season. 

joel watched the two of you as he leaned against the counter, seemingly taking in the domesticity of it all. you bumped your hip against his on your way back in, motioning for him to follow you to the fridge. "here, old man. think you can carry these jars to the table, or do you need some help?" you teased, handing him a few different jars of jelly. 

he shook his head at you. "i see the kid's shitty sense of humor is rubbin' off on ya," he said, but he let you fill his hands with the goods. 

"hey! i heard that, jerk." ellie shouted from the dining room, causing the two of you to chuckle. you grabbed the pitcher of orange juice you had made earlier, as well as one full of water, and carried those to the table behind joel.

you both organized your goods on the table before taking a seat at the table. you and joel were facing each other, and ellie was off to the side. she was already holding her utensils in both hands, bouncing them off the table as she eagerly took in the spread of food. "can we?" she asked, not even taking her eyes off the pancake stack. 

"go for it, kid," you laughed, pouring out the drinks for everyone. joel watched ellie load her plate with a little of everything, and then he waited for you to do the same before he took his turn. you noticed he steered clear from the pancakes, which upset you, but you tried not to let it show. honestly you were just thankful that they had come over. small victories, you guess. 

ellie slathered up her pancakes with a little of each of the jelly spreads you had, and then practically shoved a whole pancake in her mouth. "oh my god," the words were muffled by the food. joel chewed on a piece of bacon, his eyes narrowing at the girl as she continued to boast about how good the food was, with her mouth full. 

"jesus, ellie. what have we talked about? have some manners, please." he asked, his voice a little stern as he handed ellie part of his napkin. you watched the interaction with a small grin on your face. they may not have been biologically related, but joel was every bit a father towards the girl and seeing his care for her in person made your stomach flutter. 

"sorry 'bout that," joel muttered your way, motioning to ellie with his fork. "we're workin' on it." ellie gave you a sheepish look before continuing to eat like she hadn't in days. which you knew was far from the truth, considering you had had her over for lunch just the other day. 

"it's okay. i remember how i was when i first came into the community, too. i'm glad she's enjoying it." you caught the questioning look in joel's eyes, as if he was curious to hear more. it definitely wasn't something you wanted to discuss in front of ellie, though. you knew she had been through a lot, probably more than you had if you were being honest, but you imagined that she was tired of hearing about all the bad in the world. you wanted to help show her, and joel, the good. because lord, did they look like they needed it. 

the conversation flowed easily after that. joel and ellie told you all about life in a qz, which was something you had managed to escape, as you and your family hid away in a secret bunker for the beginning of the outbreak. ellie told you about the school there and how much she hated it, how she would sneak out with a friend of hers sometimes and explore. this seemed to be news to joel, as he stared at her intently while she confessed these secrets. 

you learned how ellie loved to draw, and when you asked her if she would draw some art for your living room she practically shot out of her seat in excitement. you learned how joel used to play the guitar and how he wanted to be a singer before the outbreak, something ellie lovingly poked fun at. you could see it, though. he definitely had the voice for singing, a rich, thick, deep sound that you imagine could've sold millions. 

you practically begged him to teach you how to play the guitar, but he made no promises. ellie let it slip about the time that she found your hidden romance novels in a box in a closet, which had caused you to choke on your orange juice. she quickly steered the conversation to her comic books, though, and you blessed the kid’s short attention span. 

when the food had been demolished (mostly by ellie) you all gathered up the dirty dishes and lugged them back into the kitchen. as you gathered the cups from the table and walked into the kitchen, you saw joel standing at your sink, already washing off the plates. "oh, joel, you don't have to do that. i can do them later," you offered, balancing your cups on the counter near the sink. 

"'s not a problem, really. you cooked, i can clean." his voice was final, as was the firm glance he gave your way as you tried to sneak the sponge away from him. you held your hands up in surrender, laughing quietly as you made your way to the living room where ellie was. she was spread out across the couch, hands rested on her stomach with her eyes closed. 

her chest was rising and falling steadily, and so you poked her foot slightly, waiting a couple moments before doing it again. she didn't even flinch, so you quietly walked back into your kitchen, where joel was drying his hands off with a rag. "well, i'm like seventy percent sure the kid is asleep." 

"only seventy?" he asked, giving you a quirked eyebrow. you watched him fold up your dishrag and put it on the counter, and for some reason you were so enthralled with the gentleness of how he did it. how could anyone in this town be afraid of this man, how could they cross the street to the other sidewalk when he was passing by, when he was in your kitchen, washing your dishes and folding your rags? 

you cleared your throat. "yeah, only seventy. there's a slight chance she's faking it and trying to scare me, but the joke's on her. i'm not going to check on her again." you held your head up high, proud that you could have potentially caught on to one of ellie's pranks (though you would later realize she was, indeed, asleep, and in some turnabout way ellie still won because now she had you paranoid.) 

joel's lips curved, and you heard him mumble "oh, ellie," quite fondly. you both leaned back against your respective counters, and you were scrambling for something to say when joel beat you to it. "do you uh..." he coughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "would you wanna go sit on the porch, maybe? give the kid some space?" 

you had to stop yourself from squealing. here you were trying to think of ways to get joel to stay and he volunteered the perfect option himself. you found yourself shaking your head enthusiastically. "yeah! i can make us some drinks if you want?" he nodded in agreement, thanking you quietly before sneaking out to the porch. 

you gave yourself a moment to freak out before getting joel a glass of whiskey and yourself a glass of water. you snagged a blanket off of a chair and quietly shut the door behind you. joel was getting comfortable on the loveseat bench you had near the door, and you handed off his glass before settling down yourself, pulling the blanket around your legs. 

it was that time of year in wyoming where the mornings and evenings were still chilly from winter and more than not, you'd still need to bundle up, but the sun was blazing for the majority of the day. outside the sun was beginning to set, the sky a kaleidoscope of pink and orange and blue hues. the crickets were chirping again, and in the distance you could hear the soft tunes of music coming from the tipsy bison. 

joel turned towards you, motioning his glass of whiskey to you, offering you the first sip. you were never one to drink - you never got accustomed to the strong taste - but you didn’t want to turn joel down, so you accepted it with a grin, your fingers brushing against his softly. your face was already warm when you brought the cup to your mouth, taking a small sip that resulted in you coughing. 

“not a fan?” joel asked, a small smile on his face as he took the glass back from you. amusement sparkled in his brown eyes, and even if it was from your hiccup, you were happy that he was finally warming up to you. 

“not at all. my parents were big drinkers growin’ up so i kinda tried to avoid all of it. it’s not a very welcoming taste,” you laughed at yourself, wiping the edge of your mouth with the blanket. joel was still grinning at you, and he motioned the glass towards you again. 

“tastes better the second time,” he said casually, that sparkle still in his eyes. you narrowed your own eyes at him, a hint of a smile on your lips. “are you lying to me, joel miller?” 

“maybe, maybe not. one way to find out.” he shrugged his shoulders, angling the glass towards you even more. 

and you knew he was lying. you knew it and he knew it, but you wanted to see if it would make him smile again, maybe even laugh. so, you grabbed the cup, took in a deep breath, and took another sip. you wish you could say that you drank it with dignity, maybe just a small cough, but unfortunately that was not the case. the taste was so repulsive in your throat that it made you gag slightly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and god you were so embarrassed but - 

a deep chuckle sounded from the man next to you, the corners of his eyes creasing as his mouth spread into a grin. he placed his hand against his chest as he laughed, probably thinking you were a bit too much of an idiot to fall for his teasing. but to you? it was worth it. you wanted to be the cause of that sound forever. 

“that was mean, miller.” you laughed, taking a sip of the water that you had brought out with you. 

“i know, i’m sorry hun. couldn’t help myself,” his voice was teasing, his eyes shining in the pink and orange glow slowly fading from the skyline. you pulled your blanket around you tighter, trying to fight back the blush that always seemed to encompass your cheeks when you were around joel. “so… romance books, huh?” 

“oh, shush. they’re a guilty pleasure of mine, okay?” you confessed, your eyes rolling as you laughed. you had thought he might have missed ellie's comment about them earlier, but apparently not.  maybe it was the whiskey you sipped earlier, or maybe it was simply joel’s comforting presence, but you continued. “it’s kind of silly, but i’ve never been in love before. and i’ve always wondered what it would be like. to just… have someone by your side, fighting for you. those books are as close as i can get.” 

you watched his grin fade slowly and a distant look passed through his dark eyes. “‘m sure the books exaggerate the feeling quite a bit, though.” his voice was rough, and he rubbed his hand across his jaw almost absentmindedly. his gaze was on the bench of the seat between the two of you, where your toes were peeking out from underneath the blanket. 

“well, duh. they are fictional, joel.” you poked his arm that had moved to rest on the back of the bench, subsequently resting behind your shoulders. “but i think the authors had to pull from some real-life emotions, though, right?” 

“touché,” his shoulder shrugged as he responded, his mouth tilting up at the side. he let his hand fall from his jaw, his arm spreading across his legs as his hand reached to play with the tassels on the edge of your blanket. your heart raced.

“have you ever been in love?” your voice was quiet, curious. your fingers traced the edge of your cup, and joel's eyes zeroed in on the movement. you had learned an awful lot about ellie tonight, as you had been for the last few weeks that you've known her. but you were wanting to learn more about the man sitting next to you.

he was quiet, contemplative, even. for a second you worried you pressed too far, that he wasn't even going to respond to you. you were trying to figure out a way to backpedal when he cleared his throat. “thought i was, a long time ago. it wasn’t that kind of frilly romance stuff you read about, though. it was... real. and it didn't last.” you nodded your head, taking in his information silently.

god, did you want to press on more. this man was like a vault, only offering you pieces of himself when he felt it necessary. you wanted to hoard those pieces away for yourself until you collected enough to fully know who joel miller was. you felt like this may have been a topic he wasn't fully ready to dive into yet, so you turned it back to yourself. “sometimes i worry i’ll never be able to experience it. especially with the way the world is right now.”

he took a healthy sip from his glass, and you noticed he had placed his lips where yours had been. that made you shiver, and you tucked yourself tighter with the blanket. “well, i feel like if anyone deserves to, it should be you.” he avoided your gaze with his confession, focusing on the retreating sun and the sky as it grew into a darker hue. 

you were quiet for a second, your eyes squinting slightly as you inspected joel. his dark hair was tousled perfectly, and you could see hints of grey streaking through the strands. the same went for his beard, which he had kept close to his skin. his tan skin complemented the olive-green jacket he had put on, though you knew he wore it for the function rather than the aesthetic. he had freckles on the base of his hairline, near his ear. you wonder if he knew that.

“do you think you deserve a second chance to?” your words cut through the silence, causing joel to put that dark gaze on you rather than the sky. 

“don’t know what i think i deserve. i’m not the knight in shinin' armor hero that you read about, that’s for sure.” his voice was harsh, and he shook his head slightly before downing the rest of his drink, turning his eyes back to the sunset. you felt your heart break at his words.

“joel," you started softly, placing your hand on top of his arm that was resting behind you. you tilted your head to the side slightly to catch his eye. "i don’t know what you’ve experienced or what you’ve done, but the right person wouldn’t let that come between you. you did what you thought was necessary to survive, and honestly? i can’t blame you. you still deserve good things.”

you saw his grip tighten around his empty glass, but his gaze stayed focused on yours. god, did you hope that he understood what you were saying. that it somehow broke through the walls he surely had built around his heart. you could see his head nodding minutely, like his body was able to accept your words even if his head didn't.

the screen door opened just then, tearing the attention away to ellie as she slowly tripped her way onto the porch. she was rubbing her eyes with one of her hands, and while still yawning, she asked, "can we go home, joel?" 

joel shot you an amused look, and you stifled a laugh as he stood up, rubbing his hands together slightly as the air took a sharp chill. "sure thing, kiddo." you stood up too, walking over to ellie and giving her a quick hug. she thanked you for the dinner and lazily made her way down the porch steps, still rubbing her eyes. 

you turned to joel, who was watching his girl on the sidewalk. "thank you for coming over." you nudged a rock on the porch with your foot, wrapping your arms around your middle as you looked up to him. 

"thank you for invitin' us over. we really appreciate it." 

"of course. we could make this a weekly thing, ya know. if you wanted to, that is." you were dangerously close to rambling status, wanting to give joel reasons why he should say yes, so you shut your mouth, leaving it open to him. he glanced down at you, the height difference between the two of you leaving you just at his shoulders. you liked that, for some reason. 

he waited a moment before responding. "i think we could make it work, yeah." you could see the hint of a smile crossing his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, taking a step closer to wrap your arms around his side. 

he froze, and you almost pulled away with an apology on your lips before you felt him shift, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. and then, you froze under him as you felt his lips brush against your forehead. the movement was so faint you thought you imagined it, but when he whispered, "good night, hon," you could feel his breath against your skin.

and so, you whispered back, "good night, joel," and pulled away, waving your fingers slightly as he went down the steps. he caught up to ellie in no time, and you grinned as you watched him put his arm around ellie's shoulders, steering her in the right direction. 

later you would replay the nights events in your mind on a loop. you'd come up with different things you should have done or should have said. you'd wonder about joel's response to the pancakes, and whether he would ever tell you the truth behind his flinch. you hoped he would believe that he did deserve that second chance, and you prayed that he would take it with you. 

but for right now, as the crickets chirped louder than before, as the streetlights started to flicker on one by one, and as the stars began littering the sky with their glow, you were happily content with the way things went tonight. and you knew, for certain, that you were in deep with joel miller. 

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes  @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fic #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #ellie williams fic #ellie williams tlou

[mooodyblue]

any day now | part one.

summary: after a flight back from cali to memphis, elvis finds himself somehow stuck in your apartment in 2022.

warnings: time traveler!elvis, mentions of his death, priscilla doesn't exist, elvis (2022) exists without the cilla scenes (i know! sorry!), mentions of pill usage & insomnia

wc: 3.1k

a/n: please refer to this post before reading (unless you've never read my other don't fly away stories, you should be fine that case!). turning my first ever post on here into a full, chaptered fic. i'm a little nervous, but i hope you all enjoy! i know this is one of my most loved series. i've been working on this for awhile now so i can't tell you how happy i am to finally have this out for all of you to read!!! the first chapter is a little corny, but i assure you it will get better 🙏🏼

fresh off his final performance, sweaty and decked out in black leather. god, he felt good. more than good actually, he felt incredible. he missed this–performing the music he loves and in front of an audience, he wanted to do more. he was elvis presley, he should be making good music and not these silly films his manager had him filming the last few years.

of course, the colonel wasn't too ecstatic about the special. it was supposed to be a christmas special for christs sake. all elvis did was cover one christmas song and call it a day. and in black leather? what was going to be the outcome of all of this? the special would sure fail; it's not what the fans wanted to see. at least that's what he thought, elvis and steve binder would think otherwise. but elvis knows when he's pleased an audience, he had a good feeling about the special and couldn't wait to watch it.

there was a party set in place once filming was done, elvis was still reeling off the energy from performing much earlier. after coming in, greeting everyone with a loud ‘my boy, my boy!’–he’d had a few drinks, chatting it up with a few crew members and constantly thanking steve for his hard work. he only wished his momma were here to see how far he'd come, she'd be so proud of him. it almost made him a little sad. he shook himself out of his thoughts, getting himself another drink before going off to talk to more people.

he was ready to go home, to curl up in his bed and sleep for a few days. he had a couple more movies left to film due to his contract, but not before he gave himself a little time to rest.

he got himself on his plane back to memphis and went up to his bedroom immediately, plopping himself face first on his bed and letting out a small groan. it felt so good to be home. he missed his bed, the coldness of his bedroom.

but something was off.

elvis lifted his head, looking around the room. his room was….not his room. the walls were a plain white with photos he'd never seen before in his life, the bed was slightly smaller and there was a strong smell of….flowers? it was like someone had a candle burning. this wasn't his room at all. he jumped up quickly, “what in the hell….” he muttered. he wandered out of the room, gasping. he was not in graceland. he was in someone else's house. but how did he even get there? he walked around, looking at framed photos and all the different pieces of clutter laying around.

now, looking through other people's mail is a crime. it's illegal, however he needed to know where he was and who this place belonged to cause it sure as hell didn't belong to him. one glance out the window made him dizzy–this was not memphis and it was beyond anything he'd ever seen. for starters, he was in an apartment. maybe the fourth floor. the view was the city, but everything looked so….off. it didn't look right. it was like a different dimension. there was a billboard across the street that changed after a minute, promoting things he'd never even heard of.

he closed the blinds, backing away slowly. “this ain't right…..” he rubbed at his head, trying to figure out what to do. right, the mail. he went to the kitchen, rummaging through everything till he found a letter with an address and name on it. he was in california…again? beverly hills? what the hell was he doing in beverly hills? he just flew back home, how did he end up back in california?

he sat down at the counter, rubbing his temples trying to process everything. elvis was in someone else's home and he was positive he didn't break in. you can't just break into an apartment on the fourth floor, it's impossible. there were no signs of him breaking in anyway, so how did he end up here? maybe it was just a really weird dream. but where was the person who lived here? oh god, were they dead? is that why he's here? is he dead? he couldn't be.

there was a rattle at the front door along with the sound of keys. elvis jumped up quickly, frantically scanning to find a place to hide. you'd see him if he ran to the bedroom, he couldn't fit in any of the cabinets–this was it. he was going to prison. that'll be a fun headline. his career is definitely over. he watched as you wandered into your bedroom, not even giving him a glance. this was his chance to escape.

he quietly snuck his way to the front door, turning the knob slowly.

“what the fuck?”

oh, he was done for. elvis gulped, turning around slowly with a nervous expression on his face. “um….”

you reached for a butter knife lying on the counter, pointing it directly at him. elvis couldn't help but snicker at the idea of you stabbing him with a butter knife of all things. “who are you? why are you laughing? w-why are you dressed like a cheap elvis impersonator?”

“are you tryna murder me or make yourself some to-cheap?! who are you callin’ cheap?” he put his hands on his hips. “look, i-i-i don’t know how i got here. i’m not here to hurt ya and i swear i-i didn't break in.”

you scoffed, “i’m calling the police.” you took your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it and getting ready to dial the number.

“no! no, no, no–please! i-i-i swear-i’ll leave. i just don’t know where to go. i don't know where i am.” he begged.

you looked at him confused, “what's your name?”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “elvis. i’m elvis presley.”

looking him up and down, you couldn't help but laugh. you burst out with laughter, clutching over and shook your head. “okay-seriously. what's your name?”

“i’m not being funny! i’m elvis presley!” he defended.

“prove it.”

his jaw went slack, almost looking defeated. he checked his pockets and every part of his body for some form of id–he had nothing on him. there was no way to prove that he was who he said he was. “look i-i don't have anything on me. i came back from filmin’ and then-” you got closer to him, examining his face, staring right at him as you circled him. “what are you doin’?”

“you speak exactly like him.” you got closer to his face, “what year is it?”

“y'know honey, i was about to ask you the same question.” he sneered, backing away from you.

“it's 2022.” you said, crossing your arms.

his eyes widened, backing farther away. “you're lyin’ to me. it's not-what? i-it should be ‘68….” he held his head, leaning into the wall.

none of this felt real to either of you, especially elvis. you googled a photo of him from ‘68, holding the phone close next to his face as a comparison. “holy shit.” you muttered, “you're….you're not an impersonator, there's no way.” and thank god for the people who got incredibly good photos of elvis in the 70s.

“i’ve been tryin’ to tell ya!” he groaned, “god, my head hurts.”

“i’ll get you some water, here.” you helped him to your sofa, fluffing pillows behind his back. he watched you get him a water from the fridge, everything just looked so..different. you handed him the small bottle, taking a seat next to him. “what do you remember? did you hit your head?”

he twisted the cap off, taking a swig then raising a brow at you. he shook his head, “no. not that i know of. i was on my plane back to memphis and i swear i went home and went straight to bed. i’m not dead, am i? or is this a weird dream?”

you didn't know how to answer his question. in a way, he was actually dead. except he's not dead, he's in front of you. it felt like a dream to you too. your eyes scanned his face. elvis just looked lost and confused, nervously fidgeting with the label from the water bottle you gave him. it was such an odd situation–almost something straight out of a movie. he could have showed up anywhere but the universe picked you. there had to be a reason for it.

elvis on the other hand, he had so many questions. many more than you. him being here, that means he didn't exist in this timeline. unless there were two of him, which didn't make much sense to him. “i’m dead, aren't i?”

you shifted awkwardly, clearing your throat. the silence gave elvis the answer he was looking for. “when?”

“‘77.” you answered lowly.

“christ.” he sat back, running a hand through his hair. “how?”

you stood up quickly. “are you hungry?” you chirped, trying to change the topic. “i-i can order something. what are you in the mood for?”

elvis watched you pace around the room, “uh-i mean….”

“oh! you like burgers, let's get you a burger. you'll be amazed at what they do with burgers compared to your time!” you nervously laughed, pulling up a delivery app on your phone. “there's even burgers named after you! they're all pretty much the same-”

“honey-”

“-i’ve had my fair share of elvis inspired meals but honestly-”

elvis pulled you by the arm, causing you to fall back onto the couch. “we don't have to talk about it. a-and i’m sorry for askin’.”

“there's just…so much you don't know.” you mumbled, looking down. he took one of your hands, holding it in his. “you're just getting started in your other life.” his touch was soft, the feeling of him rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand bringing you comfort.

“see, i told them that special would be a hit.” he joked. “look, i don't know what the hell happened. none of this is right at all, maybe i ended up here for a reason. but we'll figure it out, even if it's just for today.”

it's funny in some way, you always wondered what it'd be like to go back in time to meet elvis or see him live–now here he is, somehow traveling to the future. his presence is just as sweet and calming like you imagined, perhaps even more. even if you were to wake up tomorrow with him gone, you’d make his time here worth every second. you had so many questions, so many things to show him, proof that he was still loved after all these years. maybe you were the perfect person to do all of that for him.

you nodded, squeezing his hand. “i just can't believe you're here.”

“crazy how life works out.” he laughed. “now, you said somethin’ about a elvis burger….”

with a laugh, “oh, are you kidding? it's beyond burgers. you've got milkshakes too. hell, there's meals that have nothing to do with you named after you.” you pulled up a few for him to look at.

“you're kiddin’.....” he gasped, “and what's..what this thing you're showin’ it on?”

never in your life did you think you'd be sitting next to elvis presley, explaining what a phone was. how ordering food was just a few taps away and how easy it was to access all sorts of information, even showing him his wikipedia page but quickly avoiding the ‘death section’. you helped him pick out his order along with yours then went onto show elvis photos of himself you had searched for on pinterest. you did your best to filter out photos from the 70s, you knew he'd have questions and you weren't exactly sure if you were ready to have that conversation;not on day one.

“so…this means that lil’ christmas special i just filmed–it's out right? you can just pull it up on that tiny thing?” he asked, pointing at your phone.

you grinned, “even more than just the special. all your movies, concert films, concert footage and documentaries. people have even made movies about you!”

he groaned, “don't tell me you've seen my movies.”

“oh, absolutely. i really enjoyed clambake.”

“don't ever say clambake again.” he said sternly.

before you could respond, there was a ping on your phone and a knock at the door. elvis widened his eyes at you picking up the bags from outside the door, “that fast?” he said, surprised.

you held the bags up proudly and gestured for him to come to the dining table, setting out his food and yours. while eating, he caught up with you about what he was doing before he ended up with you. the things going on in his life and the movies he had planned to film soon, movies you had already seen. elvis was happier when discussing his music and how much he missed performing, he was happy to hear he does manage to get out there and perform in vegas. you just skipped the part where he was overworked and unhappy. seeing him so excited made you feel bad. you dreaded having that conversation with him. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you hoped he'd return to his life before you'd ever have to explain his future.

unless, you could do something to stop it. to make him change his ways. you've read the books, you know what's going on at this point in his life. what about the pills? was he still on those? he doesn't even know about the colonel yet. god, so many things he doesn't know. it's killing you that he doesn't know.

you make a plan. if you wake up and he's still here, you'll tell him everything. you'll answer any questions he might have. you needed to keep him away from a phone and from a computer, which you hadn't introduced him to yet. worst case scenario, you get him a phone but set a child lock so he won't have access to google. he can't learn all of this on his own.

“i really hate to ask this. i’m not one to ask favors, is there anyway i can sleep here tonight? i-if i’m still here tomorrow i-well, you can help me find a hotel room. i-if that's okay with you, of course. i didn't really mean to intrude.” elvis finally asked, almost embarrassed to be asking for any sort of favor. he was normally asked for favors, not the one asking for one.

“you don't even have to ask!” you replied a little too excitedly. the idea of elvis presley sleeping in your apartment was almost a dream come true. “i can lend you some of my ex’s clothes, he should still have some here somewhere….”

“oh, an ex?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “who'd wanna break up with someone as pretty as you?”

you blushed, fiddling with your sleeve. glad to see he didn't lose his flirtatious charms during his trip. “i’ll um…find you something to wear.” you stuttered out as you got up quickly, rushing off to find him something for the night.

elvis let out a small laugh, getting up and wandering around your apartment, taking in all the photos and books you had lying around. he picked up one from the shelf, shocked at the sight of his face on the cover. he read the back and opened the front cover, curious to find out what his future holds.

and thank god you walked in when you did. you ran over to him, snatching the book from his hands and replacing it with clothes. “they're not really your style but i’m sure they'll still fit!”

“i’ll make it work, thanks hon. bathroom?”

you pointed across the hall, giving him thumbs up as he walked away. as soon as there was a click of the bathroom door, you immediately took all the elvis books from your shelf and ran to your room to hide them somewhere. you opted for shoving them all in a box in your closet.

he came back out, looking down at himself. “i don't look awful.” he shrugged.

you turned around, “if you're here tomorrow maybe we can buy you some clothes somehow.”

“what if i’m not here tomorrow?”

you'd be sad. “well–then you're not here.” you replied as confidently as you could. “so, the bed situation…..i can sleep on the couch. you can take my bed.”

elvis rolled his eyes, “why can't we sleep in the same bed?”

you laughed awkwardly, shuffling your feet. “that's-that's not happening. sorry.”

elvis looked back at your room then back at you, a concerned look on his face. it was almost like he was afraid to sleep. but oh, you've read about this. you know what he's worried about.

“i don't have anything for sleep, if that's what you're concerned about.”

he looked at you sadly, “i’ll just….figure it out. it's fine.” he wished you didn't know about that. it made him wonder what else you possibly knew.

“you're welcome to any of the books on my shelf.” you pointed back, “they may not be up your alley but…i know you love reading.”

he nodded, “appreciate it.”

there was an awkward silence between the two of you. standing there uncomfortably, waiting for someone to move or say something. there was no way to say good night. you both knew you may not see each other in the morning but it was obvious neither of you wanted to bring it up. “soo….” you shoved your hands in your pockets, rocking on your feet.

“well, thanks. good night.” elvis finally said, giving you a small smile. you watched as he headed to your bedroom, wondering if that would be the last time you'd ever see him. he turned once more, “thank you for bein' so kind to me. i’ll be prayin’ for you.” he gave you one final nod and shut the door behind you.

you tossed and turned on the couch all night. not because it was uncomfortable, because you couldn't stop staring at your bedroom door. was elvis still behind that door? you wondered if he was able to fall asleep–especially knowing his history with insomnia. he was without his pills and you had nothing laying around the house, he must have been tossing and turning all night too.

regrets were playing through your mind too. there were things you wish you could have said to him, to warn him and maybe show him how loved he still is. maybe he could have changed his ways if he knew it all before he went back. his ‘i’ll be prayin’ for you’ was on a loop in your head the entire time. he was just so kind, even throughout this weird situation he was in.

you weren't much of a spiritual person but for the first time in a long time, you prayed too.

#elvis x reader #shaking in my boots as i hit post

[writing-house-of-m]

Bend & Snap

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack

Warnings: A few sexually suggestive scenes, nothing graphic

Word count: 3,065

Summary: Your date night with Wanda gets interrupted in the strangest way

A/N: This was a collaborative effort between @speciallysapphic , @therunawaykind and myself for a challenge set by @vancityfire13 . I thought it was fun and wanted to share. I hope you all enjoy reading 🙂

It had been a while since you and Wanda got a chance to spend some time together. So you agreed to a quiet date night in.

Sitting in front of the TV you were nearing the end of the movie you had picked out, dirty dishes placed on the small coffee table in front of the two of you as you snuggled on the sofa. It was your turn to choose a movie this time.

You both agreed that you would take turns choosing the movies you would watch on nights like this. Wanda always opted for classic movies you hadn't seen, while you picked 'iconic' movies Wanda would have missed because of her time through the war.

The night started with taking advantage of the empty compound, spending time cooking your dinner. Music filled the air as you danced around the kitchen together between cutting up vegetables and following Wanda's instructions.

You went along as best you could but not wanting to ruin your meal, you opted to follow her around like a puppy, completing little tasks you could see needed doing.

Throughout the movie Wanda tried to keep making moves to go further than cuddling. You stopped her wandering hands each time telling her to 'watch this part, it's funny' or ‘it’s coming to a good bit'.

She always found it endearing how you wanted to share the joy of watching movies together. It was one of the things she loved about you.

Now that the credits were about to roll Wanda seized the opportunity to pounce on you. She straddled your hips and began to desperately kiss you.

When air was needed she rested her forehead against yours, inhaling then letting out a breath, "I thought the movie was never going to end."

You furrow your eyebrows as you pull your head back to ask, "You didn't like it?"

Looking at your expression she can't help but find your pout cute, "I did like it, it was funny and definitely iconic," she answers.

Your face brightens but she continues as her hands move from around your neck down your body, "I just had something else on my mind," she says, biting her bottom lip and placing her hands under your shirt.

With your lips attached again, you waste no time in lifting her slightly to lay her on her back on the sofa and get comfortable on top of her.

Before you can even think about removing her shirt you hear the loud, excited voices of a few people approaching the seating area you were in.

You recognise the voices belonging to Steve and Thor. Even though you don’t hear them you know Scott and Vision will also be present because they were assigned on the same mission.

Feeling annoyed is an understatement because you really didn't think anyone would be back today. Before you get caught like a couple of school kids, the two of you sit up, fix your hair and clothes so you are presentable for your oncoming intruders.

As they enter the vicinity Scott notices the clutter of dishes and the movie credits rolling. The other men and the android turn their attention to you too once they are made aware of your presence when he asks, “You guys had a party without us?” His face, slightly sad.

But the question adds to your annoyance because intruding was one thing but him not realising he had walked in on your date was another. “Yeah, Scott. We had a party. Just the two of us.” You smile sarcastically at the man putting his helmet down on one of the empty sofas.

When he realises your tone he squints his eyes at you, “You know, it’s not your words that hurt, it’s the way you say them,” he says as if he is wounded. You roll your eyes and sit more comfortably, wrapping an arm around your girlfriend.

The ‘wounded’ man, getting over it quickly, asks, "What were you watching?"

Wanda leans into your embrace, "Legally Blonde," she replies for you, to avoid any cynical answers.

Scott's face lights up, "Oh, I love that movie. You really couldn't have waited for us to come back?"

You roll your eyes again and are about to say something but Steve is quicker, “Yeah, a relaxing movie would be nice after the 48 hours we just had," he states, joining the conversation.

Thor gets everyone's heads turning toward him as he walks closer to where the five of you are, beer in hand, “It was a long 48 hours indeed, but we were victorious in the end,” he smiles, proudly.

It’s silent for a moment before Scott speaks again, disregarding Thor’s comment and moving his gaze to Steve, "There's nothing relaxing about Elle Woods trying to get into Harvard, defying stereotypes, getting the man of her dreams back. On top of that she deals with sexism and her self-worth."

Thor, still with a bright smile on his face, says, "Ah yes, there is nothing more important than a woman getting the education she deserves."

To which Steve chuckles along with Wanda. You notice Vision standing on the side, looking like he is trying to compute the plot of the movie.

Scott, once again disregards Thor’s comment and continues, "It has so many iconic moments; 'What? Like it's hard?',” he quotes putting his hand on his hip as he pops it out for emphasis. "And using her hair care knowledge to her advantage! Who knew the girl would get caught because she got her hair done!"

Wanda giggles at the ant man’s enthusiasm while you sit there impassively watching him, still feeling a little irritated. You can’t help but wonder if you can sneak the two of you out while Scott has the attention of the room.

Your plan is foiled when Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Tony enter, the attention moving to them momentarily as they walk closer.

It really is a party now.

Nat raises an eyebrow assessing the crowd in the area, she smirks when she sees your displeased expression. You had already spoken to her about the fact you were finally going to get some alone time with Wanda - it was clear your time was cut short.

Everyone moves their heads in the direction of Scott as he gasps loudly, "The 'Bend and Snap'!” He exclaims, “How could I forget about the 'Bend and Snap'?!"

Steve, Thor, Vision and Bucky look at him confused, as Nat looks in your direction, “Legally Blonde?” She asks so you nod your head with Wanda nodding along, thinking the question was for her.

The new patrons to the room take seats in various places, when Vision questions, “The Bend and Snap?" You hear Sam laugh at the serious demeanour Vision has.

Nat stands with her arms crossed and everyone else listens from their seats as Scott explains, it's how Elle Woods gets a man's attention. Taking a couple of steps away from the couch he shows them how it's done.

Taking out a small disc from his pocket, he cautions everyone that it is safe. But from the look on the faces no one was worried to begin with.

The group have always been in agreement that Scott was the least worrying hero, the only reason he is on the team is because enemies don’t see him as much of a threat and that gives him the advantage to blindside them.

He’s about to start explaining when you all hear a commotion coming from the direction of the hanger. A moment later you all see the members of the Guardians of the Galaxy enter.

You let out an annoyed sigh watching them stampede their way to you greeting their comrades.

The red headed spy laughs at your exasperation, you can't help but wonder why everyone has chosen today of all days to show up.

When Peter asks what’s going on, he’s shushed and told to take a seat as they all sit and stand around joining the teaching moment.

When everyone is settled down, Scott continues, “First you need an item, it can be anything at all. You drop it,” he shows the item in his hand and drops it exaggeratedly, “Oh,” he giggles putting a hand to his mouth, his voice an octave higher, “Oops,” he smiles shyly, keeping up the act.

Returning to his normal voice, “Then you bend and reach for the item, like so,” he hinges forward at the waist, simultaneously sliding his hand down his leg, explaining the movement draws attention to the length of your legs.

“The whole point is to take your time, to keep the watcher on edge,” he wiggles his eyebrows and says this is the ‘bend’ portion of the manoeuvre.

“Once you have the item in hand, you quickly,” as he grabs the metallic disc he springs up positioning either hand to the sides of his chest, framing it while arching his back. Explaining this is the ‘snap’.

There is a round of applause mixed with some laughs as Scott bows to his audience.

Thor’s mouth hangs open slightly, intrigued and can't help asking, "So… if I do this it will get the attention of a woman."

Sam and Tony laugh together, “It will definitely get some attention!” Sam exclaims.

You join in with Wanda’s laughter, unable to get over how ridiculous this all has gotten.

Thor and Peter step forward to Scott with a few questions, wanting to go through the actions with him.

“I’ll need a volunteer to show you one more time,” he looks around and sees Captain America looking hesitant to ask so he does it for him. "What about you Cap? You wanna give it a shot?"

Steve glances over to the seats and sees Bucky looking over. He smiles and blushes but says he'll try, purposely moving to angle himself right so that the Winter Soldier will get a clear view of America's ass as he 'bends'.

Scott goes through the moves step by step using the American icon as a test dummy with Bucky’s eyes never leaving his figure. When he bends forward, Scott places a hand on Steve's back to get him to bend over a little more, much to Bucky’s satisfaction.

Steve’s movements are stiff but he manages to get through it getting a pat on the back from Thor as he tries to make eye contact with Bucky when he’s standing straight again.

Everyone else is too busy conversing or watching Thor’s attempts on the side to see the hungry eyes of the Winter Soldier, making you want to throw up. All those times Bucky has called Steve ‘Captain’ coming to the forefront of your mind.

You choke on nothing when Bucky signals toward the elevator as he stands to leave, while everyone is distracted Steve follows his path.

Wanda makes sure you are okay by rubbing your back. When your coughing stops, “It’s so nice seeing everyone together, it would be better if the rest were here too,” she says, which you can't help but smile at.

These people have become her family, it was one of the first things she confided in you. As if by magic Wanda gets her wish when you feel a gush of wind fly past you. Pietro stops next to Nat and shouts across the room adding to the chaos and noise, “I told you, even with a five minute head start I’d still win!”

You turn your head, you see, Yelena, Kate, Kamala, Peter (Parker) and America enter with Bruce trailing in just after them.

Thor’s boisterous laugh has you looking at the original group that ruined your night. Scott congratulates him for getting it correct and complimenting his arms being bigger than Steve’s. Thor is beaming, "I can't wait to try this on Jane, she will be so impressed."

Vision steps past Peter (Quill), who is showing Gamora the move, speaking quietly to Scott while looking sheepish. You swear you see him blush when he makes eye contact with Pietro, not realising the action was possible for the literal machine. He stutters his question asking Scott if he could help him next.

Nat told you he had a thing for Wanda’s twin but you didn't believe it. It really was a ‘you have to see it to believe it’ kind of thing.

Vision thinks he is quiet but everyone hears the final words come out of his mouth, “I just don’t think it’s appropriate in front of my daddies.”

A sheet of quiet takes over the room that feels like it lasts forever, jaws hanging open trying to fathom what they have just heard. Sam laughs first with the rest soon following.

They realise what Vision meant so fingers are pointed at Tony, Bruce and Thor with howling laughter taking over the room.

While Tony and Bruce want to sink into the floor Thor smiles not really understanding the joke. With Vision in the same boat he looks around not really caring and looking back to Scott with quizzical eyes.

You hear Mantis whisper beside you, “How many daddies does he have?” Making you feel bile creep up your throat again.

Before Scott can answer the android, Pietro cuts in and tells him he would show him himself but in a private setting, flirtatiously.

First you had to witness Bucky and Steve’s bedroom eyes. Now this, the world really was against you today.

Nat smiles as she sees her wife walk in and make her way to her. They greet each other with a kiss and she catches Maria up with what has been going on. She scoffs at the absurdity of it all and confirms they will have dinner in a few hours.

Their attention gets turned to Sam who asks if Nat will be a judge on who can do the ‘Bend and Snap’ the best. Scott takes offence saying he was right there, wanting to be the one to do the judging.

Wanda realises you have been quiet for a bit too long, “Hey, should we continue our date in our room?” She says lowly to you.

“You don’t want to stick around a little longer while everyone is here?” You reply with your own question.

“I think this whole thing has been enough for a little while,” she laughs, making you smile.

She takes your hand as she leads you away, the loud noise of the contest being sorted getting quieter the further you walk away.

You get in the elevator and are making your way up when it comes to an abrupt stop as the building shakes.

There’s a loud sound from something followed by the alarms going off.

The muffled sounds of Scott trying to defend himself, “I thought it was a shrinking disc!” Make their way through the walls of your location.

Sighing, you ask Friday what happened, “It looks like a sofa has been supersized and crashed through several walls.”

“So, how long are we stuck here?” Wanda asks for you. The only reply you get from the automated voice is that help will be on its way as soon as possible. Wanda doesn't want to risk using her powers in case something comes crashing down on the two of you.

It doesn't take long for you to get freed. You make your way back to the seating area due to the fact the oversized sofa is partly in your room.

You can’t believe your eyes. In the fifteen minutes you spent trapped in the elevator they have managed to set up a makeshift catwalk complete with a judging table, scoring cards and everyone has an assigned number stuck to their backs.

Noticing Steve and Bucky, you realise the early leavers from before have returned to take part in this little competition too.

When you make it to Nat and Scott at the judging section they explain one of his discs hit the sofa as they were trying to move it out of the way. “We still need one more judge, unless you want to compete,” Natasha quips.

You’re about to reply saying there was no way you were going to entertain the idea of you doing the ‘bend and snap’ but Wanda answers first, “I wouldn’t mind walking down a runway for you to judge me,” she smiles at you, biting her lip.

You smirk at her, “I think I already know the score I’m going to give you,” you give her a peck on the cheek. “You still have to work for it though, I can’t have anyone thinking I have a favorite,” you lower your voice to a whisper just for her to hear.

The competition starts when Nat announces contestant number one can begin and of course it is a loud fiasco.

With music blaring, it goes exactly how you would have expected something like this to go.

America and Kamala fall over their own feet in their collaborative effort, the two Peters decide to team up (two Peters are better than one they said) and have a wardrobe malfunction when webs attach themselves to Starlords pants pulling them down, Kate pushing Yelena forward to not do anything at the end of the runway but give her sister the middle finger when she catches her sister laughing at her.

Tony even managed to get Pepper to walk down with him as she awkwardly stood to the side while he picked up his glasses from the ground. Shaking his butt in her direction just to see her blush.

Drax, thinking it was a talent show, moves as slow as possible showing he can be invisible.

What’s even crazier is that Vision completing the action snaps the wrong thing because he short circuits and gets stuck. Pietro has to take him to Tony’s lab with Tony following behind him to get the android fixed.

When Wanda inevitably wins everyone has something to say about it. “An infinite amount of points isn’t fair!” You hear a variation of this same statement from a few contestants and you only have one reply, “Maybe you should find your own judge to sleep with,” you laugh heartily at your own joke.

Even though the night didn’t go as you hoped, you still had a pretty good time.

You are especially happy with the way Wanda was smiling and enjoying herself.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #pietro maximoff x vision #pietro x vision #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x you #mcu reader insert #self insert fanfiction #crack!fic #marvel crack!fic #fic #bend and snap tag

[misc-obeyme]

Congrats on the 500 followers!! Woohooo!🥳🎉

Can i request coffee + solomon? Thank you and have a nice day!

Thank you, anon!

Okay this takes place in the Nightbringer timeline, so MC lives with Solomon in Cocytus Hall but there are no spoilers or anything, just fluff!

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt Coffee

Warnings: none!

Morning broke in the Devildom and the sky brightened just enough for you to tell it was now day. You shuffled into the kitchen in your pajamas, still bleary eyed and half asleep. Considering how much your magic had improved, you found it simple to do a few spells to get the coffee going. Devildom coffee beans always tasted better if you ground them yourself, but it didn't seem to matter if you used magic to do the grinding and it was much faster that way.

You leaned against the counter as you listened to the coffee pot burble. You let your mind wander, thinking of all the things you needed to get done that day. The air filled with the rich scent as the coffee pot finished its task.

You poured yourself a cup, took a sip of the steaming liquid, and then began to shuffle back toward your bedroom to get ready for the day.

Before you made it there, though, you noticed the warm light of a lamp coming from beneath the door of the room Solomon used to do his magic experiments. It seemed that no matter what branch of time you were in, he would always have this tendency to get so consumed by his work that he would forget to eat and sleep.

You sighed and went right back to the kitchen. You pulled out another mug and poured a fresh cup from the pot.

Holding one mug in each hand, you made your way back to the door. There was a table nearby that allowed you to put down one of the mugs so you could knock. When no answer came, you opened the door carefully and poked your head in.

Solomon was hunched over his desk, clearly so absorbed in whatever he was doing that he hadn't even heard your knock. You picked up the other mug and carried both of them into the room, carefully crossing over to where he was working.

He was surrounded by a clutter of books and magical objects as he scribbled away in an old notebook. He looked up when he heard you approach.

"Oh, good evening, MC," he said with a smile.

You shook your head. "Try good morning."

Solomon blinked at you for a moment, then checked his D.D.D. He laughed. "Ahaha! I guess I lost track of time again."

"No surprise there," you said. You held out the mug to him. "Here, have some coffee, since I know you're not going to go to bed."

Solomon took the mug from your hands, letting his fingers rest against yours for a moment as he did so. He smelled the coffee and then took a sip, closing his eyes. "You make the perfect coffee, MC."

"If you think flattering me is going to get you out of trouble for staying up all night, you've got another thing coming," you said.

Solomon laughed again, putting his mug down on the desk. He stood up and put his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You frowned at him, still clutching your own mug to your chest.

"I'm sorry," he said, though the gently teasing smile on his face seemed to say otherwise. "I don't mean to make you worry."

You sighed, putting your own mug down on the desk so you could return his embrace, letting your head rest on his chest. "I know. Just, try to take care of yourself a little better, Solomon. No more staying up all night. Even all powerful sorcerers like you need sleep."

Solomon laughed and kissed the top of your head. "Of course you're right. I promise to make more of an effort from now on."

You smiled to yourself because it wasn't like you hadn't heard that line before. You wouldn't be holding your breath. But you didn't really want him to change his ways. It was part of who he was. And you would always bring him coffee when he was still awake the next morning.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfiction #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #misc 500 followers event #misc writes

[kmgkmg]

EVERYTHING - LEE HEESEUNG

word count: 2.8k…

pairing: heeseung x gn!reader

synopsis: you are a freshly moved in tenant to a cheaply priced apartment, but is it too good to be true?

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, strangers-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers more of a miscommunication trope, college student!reader, neighbor!heeseung

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: for @dearhee!! hi, i was matched with you for the @kflixnet's exchange event! i'm a bit shy so i didn't message you, but i've enjoyed seeing your posts on my dash ^^ i hope you enjoy this short oneshot piece! the title is based off of everything by kehlani. i had a hard time choosing between her song and butterfly dream by khalil fong, also i did kinda get carried away and made you a fic playlist! and an older outdated playlist i made for heeseung a while back if you'd like to listen to it! sorry this author's note is so long omg.

Brown moving boxes cluttered your new living room. Sure, it looked a bit barren and depressing from the boxes and bubble-wrapped items lying around, but those would be dealt with right after you finished your coursework. Sitting down at the kitchen table you and Jungwon assembled just hours ago, your mouse hovered over the pause button of your laptop.  

You were attempting to finish the recorded lecture your professor posted yesterday. Latin American Politics seemed like a fascinating topics course to take, and to top it off, the professor had stellar reviews from classmates. Who would’ve known that you were getting yourself into the most intensive courses you’ve taken to date? The readings were interesting and you never had a problem completing them, but what drove you insane was the exams. Your professor would always include questions that would leave a lot up for interpretation, yet he would grade it seemingly randomly based on his mood.  The other half of the questions would require you to know a decent amount of outside information since he would ask questions that were never discussed in class or case studies, but would be relating to relevant precedents.

Something that was quickly driving you insane was your next door neighbor. You hadn’t had the chance to introduce yourself yet, but for almost the entire time you tried to watch the lecture, music could be heard through your shared wall. You thought the noise would subside if you waited long enough, but your patience finally met its limit when they turned up their music enough for you to feel the bass. 

This isn't how you imagined introducing yourself to your neighbors. You weren’t hoping to be best friends with them or anything, but you definitely didn’t think you’d be storming over to their doorstep at 11pm to complain. Still, it’s a weekday. How could they not have the common sense to be courteous of those who needed to wake up early in the morning?

Opening your door, you walked over and knocked three times on the door. A man with grayish blonde hair opened the door with a quizzical smile flashed towards you.

And maybe, no, definitely, his looks would’ve been more noticed by you on any other day. But you had an oral exam to finish polishing to present in front of your professor and classmates. 

“Can you lower your music please? I’m trying to study and it’s distracting,” You request, without paying much attention to your neighbor’s confusion gradually showing on his face. 

“I wasn’t playing any music though?” He innocently replies.

“For the past forty minutes I’ve listened to music from your side of the wall, don’t act innocent,” You groan. 

He smirked at you, “Sure, I can ‘turn it down’,” emphasizing the last part by using air quotes with his hands. 

“What do you mean with the air quotations?” You frown, imitating the air quotes he made moments ago. 

“Don’t you think you owe me a favor for turning down my music? I mean it is my apartment, I should be able to act how I want. Not my fault that the building’s walls are thin,” He shrugs. 

Of course, your neighbor is entitled. Just great. 

“You won’t turn it down? Okay, there’s an easy solution. What was the landlord’s number again? I think filing a noise complaint would make my problem solved real quick,” You answered, unlocking your phone screen and showing the dial pad screen to him.

His smirk fades, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing my music and singing,” taking your phone and typing a number onto it, “here’s my number.” He extended his hand to you with your phone placed on his palm. 

You snatched your phone back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why give me your number? So you can bother me through texts and phone calls instead?” You scoff, already heading back to your apartment next door. 

“You can message me instead of our landlord when I make noise again,” He waves, before slamming his door behind you. 

Asshole.

One thing you absolutely hated was hot weather. Without the A/C on in the middle of today, a day that was record-breakingly hot, you felt certain you would melt any minute now. Your landlord sent out an email to all of the tenants in the morning explaining that the A/C broke and would probably be repaired by tonight. You didn’t need her email to wake you up though. You were already awake, sweating profusely. The comforter had long been thrown to the floor. You stumbled sleepily to your thermostat which read as 100°F/38°C. Outside it was a bit cooler, but being outside only exposed you to the blazing sun. It was truly choosing the lesser of two evils. 

What made the day even worse is that you ran into your annoying neighbor, whose name you learned is Heeseung, as you went outside to make a quick run to buy some cold snacks. It did make it slightly better when he was covered in as much, if not more sweat than you. You couldn’t revel in his misfortune for too long though. He miraculously managed to trip over his doormat, falling onto you. Both of you scowled at each other while childishly wiping each other’s germs off yourselves. 

He hadn’t played his music anymore since the day you confronted him, but he did sing nearly everyday. If you weren’t studying, you couldn’t help admiring how talented he was. His vocals sounded like they came straight from a CD. But your appreciation for his talent never lasted long, since he always had an intuitive sense to bother you. 

Y/N, I sound good, don’t I?

How would you feel if I serenaded you sometime?

Don’t you think a guy who can sing is sooooooo hot?

Have any song requests Y/N?

His texts immediately removed any hint of charisma his music might’ve given him. Heeseung knew that his texts drove you insane, and if you were just an ounce less nice than you were, he would’ve been blocked a long time ago. Still, he had texted you about a week ago informing you he’d be redoing the foam sound panels he installed a couple years back in order to hopefully be more soundproof for your sake. While you felt relieved that you would finally have some peace and quiet after weeks of living with his incessant noise, it was bittersweet. You had grown used to his singing, occasionally singing along to the songs you knew. Although, it didn’t change the fact that he was still arrogant as ever whenever he interacted with you. 

Snapping out of your thoughts about Heeseung, the elevator doors opened on your floor. You looked down into the plastic bag of goods you got from the convenience store and sighed disappointedly at the distorted shape of the ice cream you bought. 

“Sorry if the phone was cut out, I was in the elevator. But Jake, I’m going to die in this heat!” You whined through the phone, searching your pockets with your free hand for your keys. 

“Why don’t you just come over to my place then?” He offers generously.

“That would give me the perfect excuse to see Layla…” You trail off, tempted by your friend’s invitation. 

“See, Y/N just come over and we can eat some ice cream to cool down,” Jake persuades you further. 

“You know, I actually got ice cream and other stuff and I’m pretty sure it melted on impact the moment I stepped into this damn complex,” You reveal, lightening up at the sound of Jake’s laughter. 

You finally found your keys and unlocked your door, noticing the fan by your door. There was a Post-It note attached to it: You seemed to need it more than me - Seung. He was definitely sweating more than you earlier, so why would he give his fan to you?

“Jake, my annoying neighbor just left me a really nice fan to use?” You tell him, still glancing over the note. All of a sudden? For no reason? Your suspicions grew as they usually did, sure that he must have an ulterior motive. Nevertheless, you carried the fan and your melted snacks into your apartment. 

“You mean the neighbor with the angelic singing voice?” Jake asks to confirm he was thinking about the same neighbor. 

You open your fridge, placing each item in their designated spot, “You heard him one time, Jake.”

“One time was enough, Y/N. Dude’s got the voice of an angel for real,” Jake stands his ground. 

Rolling your eyes, you take out the semi-frozen pineapple juice you put in the freezer hours ago. The original plan was to drink it for yourself, but it couldn’t stop bothering you that Heeseung had seemingly been nice for no reason. The fan he gave you blew cold air and if you wanted it to be even colder you could add cold water or ice to a compartment. It was expensive, you could tell from the look of it alone. Also, you did happen to browse for fans while you were waiting in line at the convenience store. Was the fan in front of you the one you considered buying? That’s not important right now…

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice snaps you away from your thoughts. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” You grabbed the plastic bag on the counter and added the frozen pineapple juice and gummies to it. It’s not equivalent to his fan, but at least it’s something. 

You reopened your door, preparing to hang the bag on his door handle and go back to your conversation. What you didn’t expect was Heeseung to be walking in the hallway, humming a song while twirling his keys with one hand and carrying takeout in the other. He caught you in the middle of what was supposed to be a discrete delivery, raising his eyebrow in amusement. 

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N L/N?” He moseyed over to you, flashing one of his infamous smiles at you. 

“I just left some things in the bag since you gave me that fan. I appreciate it, but um, if you don’t want the snacks since you just got food, I can grab it later,” You mumbled, trying to scurry back into your apartment since Jake was definitely going to tease you about any interaction you had with Heeseung. 

“Wait, is that the angelic neighbor, Y/N?” Jake’s voice practically booms from your phone. You must’ve accidentally pressed the speaker button. Heeseung’s smile only grows wider as he looks at your phone, with you being completely mortified and hanging up on your best friend. 

“Angelic neighbor, huh?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head, Heeseung. That’s just my friend’s nickname for you,” You attempt to crush anything he was imagining, matching his cheeky energy. 

“Aw, so you talk about me that much? I’m flattered, really,” He places a hand on his heart, closing his eyes in a feigned earnest expression. 

“He heard you singing one time, Heeseung. Then, I mean I might’ve told him you were always singing with that flawless voice of yours, but that was it really,” You rambled, not thinking much about the words that were coming out of your mouth. 

“Flawless voice…” He repeats, turning shy at the surprise compliment you gave. 

You were completely unaware of what you said, still trying to make your way back to your apartment. 

“Anyways, if you don’t have anything else to say I’m going to head back into my place…” You point with your thumb to your door, confused as to why he suddenly turned so quiet. 

“Thank you.” 

Now it was your turn to be surprised, “For what?”

“I’ve been going to all these auditions but keep getting rejected. Each place I go nitpicks my technique, but you called my voice flawless. I guess I really needed to hear that right now,” Heeseung explains, now fidgeting with his keys. 

The puzzle pieces started falling into place, “So that’s why you’re always singing?”

He nodded in response, “The first day you came over to my door, I was practicing for a callback the following morning. I knew that we were expecting a new tenant and sure, I heard you moving things in, but moving in took me like three days. The last time someone new moved in was me, which was two years ago. So, I just assumed that you would still be moving in. It didn’t occur to me that you could’ve moved all your stuff in one day. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was making that much noise that night, I didn’t know you were all moved in yet.”

His sincere apology surprised you for the second time, “I’m sorry, too. I’m a law school student and I was prepping for an exam that determined a huge part of my grade. I can get a bit sensitive to sounds when I’m studying for exams,” You apologized back. 

Heeseung’s fingers stopped fidgeting with his keys as his expression softened, “Thank you for the snacks, I’ll enjoy them, Y/N.”

The warmth in his voice as he said your name made you flustered, used to him only saying your name in a teasing tone, “Y-Yeah, no problem. Thanks for the fan, I’ll use it well.”

“Oh, before I forget, I was going to drop off one of these sandwiches by the fan if you weren’t home yet,” He reaches into his takeout bag and hands you a sandwich. 

Today must be the day he decided to endlessly surprise you since he handed you your regular order from the local deli, “How’d you know my order…?”

“About a week ago, you made an UberEats and the delivery person knocked on my door first,” He nonchalantly explained. 

“Ah, I see. But why are you being so nice to me? I mean it’s a complete 180 from this morning,” You question him, still suspicious of his kindness. 

“I just woke up when I tripped into you earlier. Also, I absolutely hate hot weather so I would’ve made that face if I bumped into anyone,” Heeseung answers, “I hope that we can get along from now on.”

You nod in agreement and thank him for the fan and sandwich once again before parting. 

Finally back in your apartment, you FaceTimed Jake only to be met with the faces of both him and Jungwon. 

“Tell us everything!” 

Months had passed since Heeseung and you finally cleared up your misunderstandings. Your once sour relationship with him had turned into a strong friendship, spending most of each other’s free time with each other. 

His love as a friend was anything but conventional. He knew all of your details, from the first time you officially hung out and watched the newest John Wick movie to the time when you went to a dog cafe together, he was always attentive to you and your interests. You were equally attentive to him, recommending songs that would suit his voice, or sending videos about fishing since it was his hobby. Jake had grown closer to Heeseung as well, reporting back to Jungwon each time you and Heeseung would gush about each other. 

It was obvious to everyone that you loved each other. Well, obvious to everyone but the two of you. That was, until one fateful summer night spent on the apartment’s rooftop with each other. You were watching a fireworks show in the distance, enamored with the various colors filling the dark night sky. 

“Isn’t it stunning, Seung?” You exclaimed happily, not breaking your attention from the fireworks in front of you. 

He wasn’t looking at the fireworks though. His eyes were fixed on you beside him, taking in everything you are, “Yeah, absolutely stunning.”

You turned towards him, only to be met with his unwavering gaze, “Heeseung?”

He softly led you to the table and chairs on the rooftop, hinting that he wanted to sit down next to you. You followed him, picking up when he wanted to say something.

After a deep breath in Heeseung began, “Y/N, I love the way you teach me about things I never would have thought to learn about. I love the way you listen to my concerns and nonsensical excited rants about my favorite shows or album releases. I love your extrovertedness and willingness to help those around you. I love your laugh. I love you.”

“Heeseung, I love you too,” You reply, unable to properly formulate all the reasons why you loved him. If you started listing the reasons why you loved him, you feared you would never stop. 

But your confession back was enough for him to shine brighter than any of the fireworks you watched before, “Really?”

You smile at him, causing him to envelop you in a hug. 

Who would’ve thought that your noisy neighbor all those months ago would end up being the person you loved?

#kflixnet #kfn: the exchange event #kpopccc #k-vanity #klabels #heeseung fic #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen #enha #heeseung oneshot #enhypen oneshot #heeseung fluff #kmgkmgoriginal #for the fic/ur playlist i did 21 songs since u and him are 21 aha.. get it... okie in retrospect it's corny 🪿 #also i follow from my main so if it looks like i'm not following u..i am!! just through a diff url lol #anyways anyways i hope this is at least somewhat enjoyable for u to read!! i haven't been into enha since like 2021 so def v rusty #also for the course name in this fic i definitely looked at my college's course offerings #jake/jungwon being little chismosos lol #okie i will stop talking in the tags!! um if u use apple music instead i can send u the links for the playlists on that platform instead!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Spencer Reid: Headcannons

If you liked this, let me know if you'd like a part 2! I have more ideas and some maybe a little more spicy, but I need to get some confidence to write that lol ...

The First Date ....

Didn't date much at all before you. Maybe some first dates and a stray amount of second dates, but nothing permanent or official

You'd have to be the one to ask him out. He'd be total blushing mess because how on Earth can someone like him land a date like you?

Okay, so the first date.... it would be something special and where you can talk and get to know each other.

Maybe you'd take him to a bookstore, knowing that he loves to read, and pick out books to read together. He would try to convince you to let him to buy your selections

He would end the date so awkwardly though, unsure if he should try to kiss you or not. His heart nearly splint into two when you grabbed his hand and didn't let go

Of course, you'd notice this and it's just the most earnest thing. You'd ask him if he wanted to kiss you and Spencer would hardly able to speak, just nod.

You could tell that it's his first kiss, by the way his hands bunch at your cardigan (I wear cardigans lol). It's a sweet kiss, but washes away all the kisses you've ever had

Becoming Partners ....

It would be a little overwhelming for him at first to wake up with text messages from you wishing him a good day or sending him pictures of things that remind you of him.

He'd realize that he loves you really suddenly. It would hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd realize one day that he just doesn't want to live his life without you.

Spencer would be so dramatic about it, his idea of loving coming from movies and books, and rush to the nearest florist and pick out flowers that symbolize everlasting love.

Of course you'd drag him into your apartment by his tie and pepper his face with millions of little kisses

Dating....

He has so many books. SO MANY. And is kind of a disorganized organized mess. Spencer would leave books all over the place. Sometimes, you'd find them in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in piles five feet tall in the bedroom

The clutter and books take them to get used to, but you secretly love it since both of you love reading

He'd have the books he bought on the first date somewhere special, a very hopeless romantic that man is

Dates with Spencer doesn't mean going out. Both of you'd much rather spend the weekend or Friday night playing games like Scrabble, watching movies, or reading to each other.

READING TO EACH OTHER !!!!

You'd always try to get him to read to you, but he'd always seem to convince you to read to him.

He'd lay on your chest and of course you'd immediately thread your fingers through his hair. The sound of your voice, coupled with the way your fingers feel on his scalp put him at ease.

His cheek would have crease marks from your shirt. Spencer snores and drools in his sleep, especially when it's a deep, comforting sleep. And you know it's love when you find it completely endearing.

Okay now nicknames, Spencer would be heavy handed with sweet little pet names. He'd kind of classic too with names, favoring ones like sweetheart and darling and my love. He'd probably use them more than your actual name.

He never fails to blush when you call him sweet boy or honey. And he'd get so embarrassed about it too, still not used to the affections.

PDA !!! PDA !!! This is a PSA that Spencer Reid deserves some PDA!!! He'd be so shy about this at first, even just holding your hand in public would make him lose his mind at first. He'd grow into it, once he realizes that you're not going anywhere.

He'd so affectionate when he realized that. Not caring if he kisses you in public. He'd kiss you in lines at the Farmer's Market. He'd wrap his arms around you when you talk walks in your favorite park.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff

[petalruesimblr]

The Simstone Store

Download Link: Sim File Share | MTS (for approval)

Description:

Welcome to The Simstone Store, where treasure awaits at every turn! Our thrift shop specializes in offering a diverse array of used and second-hand furniture, lamps, knick-knacks and various household items, all at incredibly affordable prices. Whether you're searching for unique decor pieces to spruce up your home or seeking practical essentials without breaking the bank, we've got you covered. But that's not all – at The Simstone Store, we also provide convenient services for those looking to part ways with their pre-loved belongings. Bring in your gently used items and we'll help you find them a new home. Once sold, you'll receive a cut of the proceeds, making decluttering both easy and rewarding. Visit us today and embark on a thrifty adventure filled with hidden gems and endless possibilities!

Details:

Price: 28,940 Lot Size: 10x10 Version: 1.42 Store Content: None CC Used: None Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Ambitions File Type: Package

Hello! I created this lot a long time ago when I wanted to place a consignment store in Sunset Valley but didn't really liked the premade lot EA provided because it was too big and a consignment lot was not a priority for my active family at the time.

Click on the Keep Reading below for more information and pictures on this lot.

I cleaned this lot of CC clutter and kept it strictly for Ambitions expansion pack, which is required for the consignment lot to work in your game.

This is a flat lot with a size of 10x10, making it easier to place in any world or flat surface.

For some reason, this lot is popular with inactive sims and it can get a little crowded. So I removed anything that requires them to linger in that small space (television, radios, gaming tech) except for the small bookcase in the corner. I placed two couches upstairs for them to use and it's mostly decor on the second floor with a "dressing room".

This lot has been play-tested and I've used it in all my saved games. Let me know if you experience any problems on your end.

1st Floor:

Consignment Register

The Sims 3 and Ambitions Clutter: Kitchen items, old end tables, mirrors, paintings, lamps, books and knick knacks

2nd Floor:

Clothes Rack

Dressing Room

Couches

Mirrors

#petalruesimblr #the sims 3 #ts3 #ts3 simblr #sims 3 download #sims 3 lots #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 screenshots #ts3 simmer #the sims 3 consignment lot #ts3 consignment lot #sims 3 #ts3 community #the sims 3 consignment store #ts3 consignment store #Community Lot

[purplesurveys]

1845

What were you doing before you started taking this survey? I feel like a fool remembering how I thought Saturday was going to be a rest day, because today has been everything but. Before this survey, we went to pick up paint for my sister's room; I went to my dentist appointment; dropped by Feliz to get ensaymadas my mom needed to pick up; three different drive-thrus because by lunch we were all starving, only to be met by super long lines so we just gave up; then had homemade lunch at home.

Now it's 4:12 PM and I hardly have a weekend left because we'll still need to go to church tonight, then I have an all-day event for work tomorrow + a wrestling show to attend in the evening.

Do you live somewhere where it’s completely safe to walk alone at night? I do, because it's a gated subdivision. The moment I step outside of the village and into the main highway might be a different story.

Have you ever lived with someone who was a total slob? No, we like keeping the house tidy. Even at its messiest I'd say it'd still be considered relatively clean. A lot of households I've been to are super cluttered so I'm lucky my family didn't fall under that trap.

Would you rather be able to talk to animals or be fluent in every language? If you were fluent in every language surely that includes animal ones? < There we go, haha.

Does your kitchen have a pantry? Yes.

Do you live below your means? Or do you spend every penny you have? I live below it because after three years of doing exactly the opposite and spending money as long as I have it, I finally learned how unhealthy and unsustainable it is. I hardly touch my earnings now and my biggest current vice is just spending on food because I don't know how to cook.

What are some foods you enjoy cooking? I don't know how to cook and can't see myself enjoying it.

Have you ever watched Battlestar Galactica? Nope.

Can others often tell what you’re feeling by your facial expressions? Yeah I'm pretty transparent but that's also because I don't like keeping things in. If I'm happy you'll know it, if I'm pissed people will definitely recognize it.

Have you ever interviewed a job applicant at your workplace? Yes, it's a regular part of my role.

Did you ever skip class when you were in school? If so, was there a particular class that you skipped the most? I couldn't skip class because my mom liked seeing us off hahaha. If I did choose to be absent, it was with her permission.

In your opinion, what is it that makes someone a good person? Doing things with compassion and sincerity. I really look up to people who can be genuine at all times.

Are you happy with the life you’re living? It's mostly okay, but there are things I still wish could be different.

How do your political beliefs compare to those of your parents? I lean on the left-wing and my parents are neutral more than anything, but that said I wouldn't say we clash. They just don't care for the most part.

What do you think of the Baby Boomer generation? Ruins most things, but maybe that's just my experience with Filipino boomers. Insufferable.

Have you ever gone over 3 months without shaving/waxing your legs? I've probably done that before.

Are you high-maintenance? In some aspects but I wouldn't say it's my entire personality as I can be lax about other things.

What was the last non-fiction book you read? AJ Lee's autobiography.

Would you ever consider being a foster parent? No.

Are you able to crack any of your joints? Can't.

What’s your favorite movie genre? Drama and thriller.

What’s something that’s been on your mind a lot lately? My future at my workplace, saving up for a place to live, saving up for my US trip ten years down the line to fulfill my childhood dream of going to Wrestlemania. As for short-term – my birthday! Hahaha.

What was the last thing someone asked you for advice on? My mom asked me to help pick out a shade for my sister's room as she was still asleep when we went to the store and we needed to go by her request which was simply 'off-white' lol.

Have you ever kissed 3 or more people in the same day? No.

What’s your opinion on lottery tickets? Waste of money, or no? It's harmless if it's like one ticket. Just don't let it become an obsession.

What are some things that make others cry, that don’t make you cry at all? Wedding videos.

Are you a very detail-oriented person? Or are you better at seeing the big picture? Details. I need them.

Do you have any upcoming plans with friends? We've talked about Korea in 2025 but we'll see how that pans out. I'm definitely committed to prepare for it but I don't think they're at that point yet.

What was the last picture message you received, and from whom? Just something from work.

Have you ever swam in a saltwater pool? No.

What kinds of leisure activities did your family do together when you were growing up? We didn't have a lot. My fondest memories were going to the arcade and booking staycations in hotels, but even then they all mean a lot in their own ways.

What color suits you more: teal or black? I'd say black.

What continent do you live on? Asia.

[fandomimaginesftw]

Confessions (II)

Summary: A demon possesses Y/N, and spills to Sam exactly how they feel about him.

Here's part one

Word Count: 1,433

Warnings: Some awkward conversation, misunderstandings, eventual smut

Pairing: Sam x nonbinary reader (female anatomy)

Thanks for reading <3

It had been a week since Y/N was possessed. They didn’t really remember anything from it, other than right before it happened, and then they woke up in their bed, tucked in pretty comfortably. Even though they didn’t really remember anything, the dynamic between them and Sam had changed. It was quite obvious to them, and even to Dean. He had noticed that Sam was distant from Y/N, which was weird. They were usually connected at the hip. 

Y/N was starting to take it pretty hard. They wouldn’t say that Sam was their best friend, but they were definitely closer than Y/N had been to anyone before. They loved to study together as they got way more done than if Dean was helping. Y/N sighed sadly as they got dressed for the day, looking at themselves in the mirror. Their mind was cluttered with Sam, which wasn’t too far off from normal. But instead of their thoughts being obsessed with everything about him, all it was was the fact that he was going out of his way to ignore them. Just the other morning they went into the kitchen to get some coffee, and as soon as Sam saw them, he just scuffled off into his room. Y/N shook their head, deciding enough was enough. They finished putting their clothes on before going to Sam’s room, giving a firm knock on the thick door. 

“Yeah,” Sam called from inside. They turned the knob, opening it and taking the sight in. Sam was working out, pushing his body up off the ground just to sink back down. His shoulder blades were tensed, moving like ocean waves as they crashed onto the shore. They watched for a moment, feeling their heart start to race. He eventually looked up, doing a few more before slowing down to a stop. He got up, his abs glistening with the sweat he had built up during his workout. He immediately got an awkward look on his face, like he wanted to get out as soon as they locked eyes. Y/N sighed, closing the door and leaning against it, just in case Sam tried to get out of the conversation. 

“Sam, what the hell is your problem, huh?” Sam snapped his head up, brows furrowing deeply as he was both confused and slightly hurt. Y/N never talked to him like that. He knew it had something to do with how awkward he had been the past week, but he couldn’t help it. Every time he laid his eyes on them his little guy downstairs decided to stand at attention. He didn’t know if Y/N had really had those feelings the demon was saying, and he didn’t know if they even remembered what was said. He just didn’t know how to approach this kind of thing so he just avoided anything having to do with it. However, it looked like he didn't have a choice at this point. He didn't want Y/N to think he hated them or anything.

“What do you mean?” He finally spoke up, although very quiet. He didn’t mean to sound so wimpy but he couldn’t even look at them let alone talk to them about this. Y/N scoffed angrily, pushing off of the door so they could walk towards him. He swallowed thickly, eyes scanning over their body. The words that the demon was spitting reran through his head, and he had to look away, a blush freckling his cheeks. Y/N rolled their eyes, taking another step towards him, which made him take a step back. Y/N’s heart dropped right into their stomach, a frown taking over their features. Why did he recoil? Were they that gross to him? They looked down at themselves, wondering what it was about them that made him not even want to look at them. It came out of nowhere it seemed.

“Sam,” Y/N said quietly, their voice breaking. He took notice of that pretty quickly, forcing himself to look at them. He could see the hurt, realizing his step back probably looked like a rejection. He sighed softly, running his long fingers through his hair. 

“Y/N, I know I’ve been kinda distant, and I’m sorry. I just…” He shook his head, “I can’t say.”

“Why not? Did something happen with the demon? You know they lie. Whatever it told you, don't believe it. It was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“So you remember what it said?” Part of him hoped they hadn’t, that what the demon said was true. He had time to think about his feelings, and he knew he wanted them. He always had, he just pushed it away so it didn't even have the potential to make things awkward. But ever since that demon said what it did, he had been thinking about Y/N constantly. Neverending thoughts of touching them, feeling their skin on his, hearing their moans again like he did that day.

“No, I don’t remember anything.” Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, patting the area next to them so he would come sit down. He obliged, their knees touching ever so slightly. Both of them felt lightning searing through their touch, running through their entire bodies. “Please, tell me, Sam. I need to know what’s up. This last week has been horrible. You…You’re my best friend, Sammy. I can’t stand not talking to you.” His heart jumped at their confession, the guilt he already had just multiplying. He had been hurting them by trying to protect them, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He blew a channel of air out through his lips, rubbing his hands on his knees as he prepared himself to spill.

“Okay, but, just know that it’s kind of explicit.” He warned, making Y/N terrified to know what was said. They knew that demons could see inside of the person they were possessing. So many demons spilled personal stuff about their victim, and Y/N could only imagine what Sam heard. “The demon was saying things about, well, about how you feel about me.” He cleared his throat, avoiding their gaze. He hoped that’s all he had to say but he knew Y/N, and he knew that they would want to know exact details.

“What? What do you mean?” Both of their heart started pounding, Y/N getting the feeling that they already knew what he meant. 

“It was saying that you're attracted to me. And that you think about me all the time.”

“Think about what exactly?”

“That you think about…what I would do to you, how I am in bed, and that you…touch yourself to it.” He stood up, needing to breathe and to be away from them. Just their knees touching was driving him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to grab them by the throat like he did the demon, to get their clothes off and fuck them until they couldn’t feel anything anymore. Y/N hid their face in their hands, resting their elbows on their knees as they processed what had just been said. They were mortified. How embarrassing, they felt like they could have just died right then. They removed their hands from their face, looking up at his back. They felt tears start to sting their eyes as they thought it was all over. Their friendship, their playful banter on car rides towards hunt, the long studies that he always made fun. They quickly got up, rushing out of the door so they could go to their room and cry in peace.

As they sobbed, Sam walked up to the door, placing his ear against the cold surface. He felt bad for earlier, but he couldn’t face them at that point. He could see how mortified they were from earlier, which really just confirmed what he thought. That demon was telling the truth. Sam pulled out his phone, sending them a text before going into the kitchen to distract himself. He smirked softly to himself as he made something to eat, knowing he’d finally get what he's wanted this entire time. Y/N.

As Y/N cried softly into their pillow, they felt their phone vibrate. They pulled themselves up, wiping the wetness away from their entire face as they grabbed their phone, a deep sniffle sounding off before they read the message. Their eyes widened at the words on their phone from Sam, not fully believing what they were seeing. 

Leave your door unlocked tonight.

#spn #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #reader insert #smut #reader insert smut #supernatural #spn smut #slow burn #friends to lovers #mutual pining

[mousterian-writes]

Pumpkin, warm coat, and moon for the ask game?

🎃 pumpkin: do you have any favorite brainstorming techniques? how do you like to gather ideas for your wip?

To gather ideas I like to explore the game and read quest text. I especially like the pre cata alliance zones, Redridge, Westfall & Duskwood. In retail I fly around & location scout. Because I didn't play alliance until the end of Cata, I never knew until recently that there was a path that connected the hinterlands to Caer Darrow. I thought that was so cool that I ended up writing an outline for a story about an orc servant in Durnholde helping an elvish prisoner escape (she was rabble rousing). It sort of became part of the backdoor backstory for lady deathwhisper.

Also, I really like sitcoms & like thinking about these powerful characters having to deal with very mundane & low stakes encounters. "What if Harrison Jones tried to fight Kel'Thuzad when he's trying to leave the library" comes to mind.

That's a few ways I get ideas. For brainstorming in general I take the screenplay outline format out of "Save the Cat" & try to connect the story ideas together. General beats sort of fall into place through that process.

🌙 moon: do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they’re trying to keep?

I think that's sort of a given when dealing with the Scourge. Although, Ghastly is really the only one with a dark backstory. I had the idea that Blighterghast is actually a red/black hybrid whose egg was taken out of Grim Batol during the second war. There's not a lot of literature on how dragons hatch & in many other properties the eggs only hatch under certain conditions-so I didn't think it was necessarily too far fetched for years to go by between when the egg was laid & Vectus purchasing it. So from being the product of 'dragon violence' & a mostly failed science experiment, I'd say his past is a little depressing.

🧥 warm coat: share a happy or fuzzy scene from your wip!

From ch7, it's a flashback so KT is not a lich. I made it extra cheesy:

Modera peeked her head in. The barn was well lit by a string of mage lights. Unlike the kitchen it was mostly clutter free, only consisting of four stalls and a hay loft. Two stalls were occupied. One by Kel’Thuzad’s horse, Blossom, and the other by his current research subject.

Modera entered. Now she regretted not getting her shoes as she stepped gingerly over the rough dirt and decomposed granite floor of the barn.

Kel’Thuzad did not turn, instead he was frowning at something in the stall in front of him. The other mage must have been up for some time, he looked well rested. He wore his gray hair long, maybe too long as it fell almost below his shoulders. His brows were knitted together, in deep thought.

She saddled up next to him and frowned as well. There in the stall chained to the wall and surrounded by a warding seal was a ghoul. The creature ignored them as it greedily chewed through a hard loaf of conjured bread.

It was impossible to think it had once been a living person. Its skin had completely rotted off its face, leaving a hole where its nose had been and exposing the bone and grey muscle beneath. Its teeth and hands had become mutated almost to the point that they’re only use was for ripping and tearing of flesh. The thing’s muscles had atrophied in death. It couldn’t stand up straight and it could only shuffle about on its knuckles like an ape.

“I thought you were getting rid of this thing,” Modera said as she watched it tear another piece of bread off with its mouth.

“His name is Robbie,” Kel’Thuzad corrected, “and I am. Soon. There’s a few more tests I want to run first.”

Modera sighed, “I thought we weren't working this week.”

“I’m not. Not really.”

“Why are you out here then?”

“I forgot to pick a lemon after I came in from the garden, then I thought I should feed Robbie while you were still in bed. That way I wouldn’t have to do it later,” Kel’Thuzad finally took his eyes off the ghoul. He raised an eyebrow at Modera’s robe and bare feet, “What are you doing out here?”

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Modera said as she slid her arms around his waist.

Kel’Thuzad turned into her embrace and murmured an apology. He was a head taller than her, and bent to kiss Modera so she wouldn't have to stretch up onto her toes. She let him deepen the kiss and melted into his arms, forgetting for a moment what was watching them.

[lol ghoul reaction shoot]

A gurgle from the stable reminded them. Kel'Thuzad pulled away with a little chuckle, "Those were supposed to be a surprise."

"The strawberries?"

"I was going to bring you breakfast. Maybe I lost track of time," Kel'Thuzad said with a glance over at his ghoul, "let's get you back inside."

Kel’Thuzad swept her off her feet, carrying Modera like a bride. She blushed, “Kelly, don’t, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Nonsense, you’re light as a feather!” Kel’Thuzad said with a strained grin.

Modera didn’t really want to protest too much. Truthfully, she liked when he held her. Even after years of dating it made her heart skip a beat. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked up at his face. He was more red than tan as they reached the barn door. “Let’s walk together, the grass is soft,” Mordera suggested.

#staff envy #my writing #ask game #thanks for the ask!

[sarahpen]

DON'T BE A STRANGER - Personal Narrative by Glorioso Sarah Joy

Childhood memories are memories that we can’t ever forget. Some incidents are so bright in our minds that we recall them again and again. We all have tons of memories from childhood. These memories help us to build our character and personality, that’s why childhood memories are hugely important in our life. I can build towers out of blocks since I was a year old. Mama stated that after the first month of parenthood, many first-time parents find it more difficult. Sarah, two years old, was able to stand on one foot for a brief period of time, and my mother was overjoyed to see me walking around. Understands size differences (such as big and small) When I was three years old, lola taught me about basic needs. 4 years old, I enjoy showering in the rain; I believe this is the most vivid memory I have from my childhood. I used to ride a bike with my Lolo when I was 5 years old because I didn't learn from him. I have this honor at the age of six, and my grandmother gave me a bracelet as a present. For my young self i hope you’re well and soaking up all the happy memories that I still remember. We used to have so much fun, having friends over every weekend, playing in the garden, going to birthday parties, drawing - you love art right? Are all those paintings still up on the wall in the kitchen? I hope you’re enjoying all the things I remember fondly.

You’re in for a treat when you’re older - you make amazing friends and have the most incredible experiences and opportunities (I’m not going to give anything away though!). You’ve got a lot to look forward to My 7-year-old self was like my mama got me a new bag before she flew to Singapore. When I was eight years old, I developed the habit of being unable to sleep without thestuff toy that my childhood crush had given me. The truth about my 9-year-old experience is that I am the only one who wants to learn to swim. My 10-year-old self assumed that English was the language of everyday communication in Manila, and I was terrified to visit. When I was 11 years old, my father gave me a notebook in which all of my favorite actors were listed. When I was 12, I got my first ear piercing, and my father used to tell me that I'd neverget a job again. My mother gave me bracelets when I was 13 years old, and I still have them.

14 years ago, they gave me my first luxury necklace from Chanel; I had no idea it was so expensive at the time. 15-year-old facts about myself I enjoy reading and watching movies, and my mother always brings me a DVD. I was young, dramatic, and hungry for something steady and fulfilling, in a life I didn’t feel was my own. I changed schools and failed at finding friends. I stared at the girl in the mirror whom I had grown so acquainted with for the past 16 years. I looked and wondered, what had changed in her? Her face, still a heart shape, lips pulled up into a quivering bow, and questioning eyes. I reached deep inside of my chest and searched for a fire of youth, and while I found a glowing amber resting within my heart, beyond everything, I still felt like a child. Staring at the girl behind the glass, I allowed the memories and my resentment to rise. Hadn’t I grown at all?

To my 17 years old is a monumental part of life. The year where everything links and becomes whole. The clusters of wires cluttering my life, finally connect and pulse that electric current that I saw so many people experience, through me. That igniting of freedom, of agility, and boundless adolescence that I had craved ever since I was a child. The current that gave me permission to make mistakes and live so limitless that I would feel as though I were immortal. Today that I'm 18 I would spend my afternoons reading in a stall of the girl’s bathroom, knowing that there would be no one outside to talk to as I waited for my mother's Toyota to struggle up the hill to school. I weakly grappled with my thoughts and emotions, and I felt as though nobody could see it. I took to lying as a way to seek help and attention. I assumed that if I verbally made things sound bad then people might finally take a moment to think about what I was going through inside my head. I was a teenager; I still am but at that time I embodied everything a stereotypical teenager is. I was desperate for love, peace, and a sense of forever.

[talesfrom0pheliaa]

The Moreau Manor.

This is part 1 of an ongoing series I'm doing. :D

It was cold. empty and cold. To be fair it was raining outside. But this was a different type of cold, I could feel it in my soul. A dark looming presence that invaded something I used to call home. All the furniture, appliances, and clutter were completely gone. The rooms were locked. Even hers. Granny always said that the house was filled with mysteries, curses, blessings, and even secret rooms. No one believed her of course, I chose not to believe her but something inside me screams that she was telling the truth. I mean.. what other than a curse can cause the tragic calamity that rained and assaulted my family?

I promised. I promised her I would never come back. But when I found out that I inherited this very manor, I couldn't control it. It felt like it was beckoning me to come home. To solve whatever the mystery this house once held was.

When I stepped inside everything was cleared out. The living room, the guest room, and the dining room. All except the kitchen. I don't know whether or not the rooms we used to live in were also cleared out. I'd have to check soon. The kitchen was dirty. Piled high with unwashed dishes, rats scurrying across the floor, Food leftover in the fridge that hasn't been cleaned out since I left. But there were a few letters both hung on the fridge and scattered across the counters.

One read: "Evelynn, please. You cannot keep everyone here. It is best if you let them go and move on. For all our sakes." Signed, Frank. Another said: "Frank. If you have something to say, say it to my face. Do NOT scribble it on a piece of paper before you leave for work. Coward." Signed, Evelynn

My grandmother's name is Evelynn. And Frank is my Uncle. I've lived here for years yet I never realized any tension between them. Could this be after I left? Or perhaps I was just too young to recognize it?

I picked up more letters and decided to decipher my question. "You know I don't have time to stick around. Listen, everyone here is only going to suffer the longer we stay. I know you miss him but it's not worth risking the happiness of our family." Signed, Frank. "You have all the time in the world when you get home. Yet you choose to ignore your family and close yourself off in your room. You have NO RIGHT to judge me when you yourself have never done anything to interact with our family. We are staying. That is final." Signed, Evelynn

The rest of the letters that I found were either burnt or scratched out. As if someone did not want anyone else to read what happened between them.

I pondered for a moment, trying to understand what Uncle Frank meant by 'Everyone is going to suffer the longer we stay.' and 'I know you miss him but it's not worth the happiness of our family.' It didn't make sense, our family was happy here. What could he possibly mean? Does he know something we don't?

My grandmother was always a happy lady. A cheerful force of nature that could brighten everyone's day. So why was she arguing so deeply with Uncle Frank?

It seems I might have to delve a little deeper to uncover the mysteries of this house. Along with the secrets my family might have kept from me.

#The Moreau Manor #fiction #original series #original fiction #original work #WIP

[rusticottage]

Hi, I hope you’re having a lovely day, I was wondering wcif the bread box in tulipas kitchen and also if you could do a top 10 plant or kitchen clutter cc. Many thanks 🥰

friend bad news, it's from leosim, here

1.hanging ivy

2.chinese money plant

3.teen plant

4.shabby box plant

5.small potted pothos

6.onion

7.little plant

8.wild plant

9.wicker plant

10.random plant

11.floor plant

this was toooo hard

#wcif #💛 #i didn't read the kitchen clutter part #i will do it! #later cuz I NEED TO GO DO LIFE STUFF #list