#yes i did start watching this show for the talking cat. it’s what convinced me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aromanticdeanwinchester · 2 years

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slice of life

read it on ao3 "You should really get out of the house man. When was the last time you went on a date?" Sam has already been getting on his nerves- he called him at 9 pm and has been talking for an hour now- but that question made Dean want to get off the phone faster.

"I do get out dude but it's kinda hard when I have a toddler," Dean heard Sam scoff on the other side. He thought Dean had knocked up some random woman. He didn't correct him. If Sam was gonna jump to that conclusion than Dean was happy enough to let him.

"Eileen lives there too," ah yes, Dean's best friend Eileen who Sam has a crush on. She did not return those feelings.

"And? I'm not making her watch Emma cause you think I'm-" When his daughter walked in, hair tussled and stuffed bunny in her arms Dean paused. The intrusion was welcome cause he wasn't sure he wanted to finish this conversation. (continue reading under the cut)

Quickly he said goodbye to Sam and hung up. Then he gave his daughter his undivided attention.

"Noisy." That's all Emma said when Dean asked her what was wrong.

"Show daddy where?" He stood and reached out a hand. She took it, nodding slowly, and led him to her room.

Once there she silently pointed at her bed. Dean knew what she meant. He got down on his knees and looked. A snout was the first thing he saw.

"Miracle," Dean said backing away so the dog could get out from under the bed, "You scared Em. Say sorry."

Miracle sat on her hunches and looked sorrowfully at Emma.

The young girl walked over and pet her on the nose once. "Fine. It fine," she told the dog. Repeating it a few times.

"You feel better now? Think you can sleep?" Dean asked. Emma turned to him and still looked a little scared.

"With daddy?" She asked, hugging her bunny tighter.

"Sure," he smiled, "If you'll feel safer."

"Daddy keep me safe," Emma said with way too much pride. Dean appreciated it though.

So that night he went to bed with Emma beside him, Miracle at his feet, Eileen's cat Grape by their heads, and their shih tzu puppy Ollie curled between them.

Ollie is a girl but Dean let Emma name her. He also saw no reason why it wouldn't be a good name.

◉💚◉

Grape woke him up. She wanted to be let out of the room. Dean hadn't even realized he closed the door. He didn't do that usually, Emma wasn't quite tall enough to open it and he wanted to be able to get to her quickly if need be.

Dean got out of the bed, careful not to wake Emma. Ollie and Miracle were both watching him curiously as he opened the door. Grape sprinted out before he'd even opened it more than an inch, squeezing herself in a way he'll never understand.

At this point he's sure that cat's have very little organs or bones.

He followed her out of the room to go put the coffee on. If he was honest he despised the stuff. Still he drank it. Thank whoever that Eileen had convinced him to start drinking it with milk in it.

After the coffee was started he stretched, yawned, and ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to do all of this in the same order every morning. It was a bit strange when he noticed the pattern at first but now he sorta liked it.

Dean began to pull pans down so he could start on breakfast. He wanted pancakes. This meant he also pulled down a bowl and a spoon and a measuring cup and a- The list just goes on and on.

Despite being able to make homemade pancakes, and preferring them, he made them from the box this morning. Homemade pancakes were a lunch food for them. Dean wasn't going to all that trouble before noon.

It wasn't long before there was a tug on his shirt and he turned around with a smile.

"Mornin' Em," She waved at him. Not much of a talker first thing.

He told her to go sit and breakfast would be ready soon. She nodded and climbed up on the stool, something she was not allowed to do without Dean or Eileen in the room, but it was also a point of pride for the three year old.

Dean gave her a thumbs up and slid her a glass of apple juice before turning back to the griddle.

Emma tapped on the counter a few moments later to get his attention. Dean turned towards her and she raised a hand up and tapped it twice on her chin.

The sign they used for Eileen was the sign for 'Mom' but while making an 'E' instead of having their fingers spread out. He smiled and set the spatula down so he could sign as well.

"She's sleeping," he told her and she nodded and went back to sipping on her juice. Soon Dean was handing her a plate with the pancakes all cut up into nice bite size pieces.

He made his plate and then Eileen's, which he set in the microwave to keep them warm, and sat to join Emma who was already chowing down.

Eileen didn't get up until they were halfway through breakfast. Her hair was a mess and she was carrying Grape like a baby.

Dean set down his fork and told her where her food was. She grinned and signed 'Thank you' before walking over to Emma and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. After she grabbed her plate she stopped and did the same to Dean who just rolled his eyes at her.

◉💚◉

Dean wasn't lonely. Sam thought he was. But Sam also lived across the country from him and didn't see how his life really was.

His brother wasn't closed minded. Dean knew if he told him about everything he'd come around to it. But he just finds it easier to not do that. The less explaining the better.

Dean's aromantic. He knows that. Has known it for a while. He doesn't really feel like he's missing out on anything either.

A family? He has that. Emma and Eileen and Bobby and Sam. He's set.

A wife? Dean's never only been interested in women anyway. And he's not interested in a husband or a spouse either.

Dating? That's just hanging out.

Really he's good. Romance is overrated. At least if you ask him.

And he knows Sam thinks of him as some sort of womanizer but again, if that's what he thinks Dean's not keen on correcting him.

Anyway all of this brings him to what he's currently doing. Using his lunch break to talk to his brother. Who's trying to set him up on a blind date.

"Sam. This is the one time a day I'm not surrounded by other people and you're using it to try and convince me to do something I don't want to."

"But Charlie's friend is really nice! I think you'd like them!" Right he forgot Sam knows he's bi. Too bad he hasn't grasped that Dean's only bisexual.

"Whatever, fine. Just send me the details! Can I eat now?" Dean gave up.

"Yep!" Sam sounded way too happy.

Dean hung up and took a bite from his sandwich. And texted Eileen. Telling her everything.

◉💚◉

Eileen🐦

Eileen: maybe you should just tell him?

Dean: maybe...

Dean: it just sounds like a pain

Eileen: it will be worth it in the end

Dean: i know

Dean: thanks

Eileen: :)

◉💚◉

Dean would go on the date this weekend but when Sam came down next week (He did visit Emma as often as he could) he was gonna tell him.

Right now though he's letting his daughter cover his face in makeup. She really like putting eyeshadow where it didn't belong.

Ollie was curled up beside him on the floor. Emma was holding Grape, who kept trying to play with the brushes. She told him about her day. They were waiting on Eileen to get back before Dean started on supper.

"An' then she said my pic'ure was pre'y!" Emma told him excitedly.

"That's great, baby girl," Dean replied. Which was a mistake cause he got a mouthful of blush.

◉💚◉

Eileen finished doing his makeup. Just a little bit to cover the bruise he got when he tripped the day before, banging his forehead on the coffee table. Everyone's always so worried about kids doing that they forget they are also at risk.

She also put eyeliner on him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

'Done,' she signed before doing jazz hands while he looked in the mirror. It looked good.

'Thanks,' he signed and she grinned. She stood up from where she was sitting - they pulled two of the kitchen stools to the bathroom - and pulled him in for a hug.

After she let go she signed, 'Tell your date immediately.'

Dean nodded. No leading on. Even if it's not his intention.

'And feel free to go home with them,' Eileen wiggled her eyebrows at him and he swatted at her arm gently.

Dean didn't want to leave the house. He loves his job. But the weekend was so nice. But he was doing this to get Sam off his back. For now.

He stood as well and slid his jacket on. As they walked to the door he signed reminders at her. Making sure she knew he'd drop what he was doing immediately if Emma needed anything. Eileen just waved him away.

He sighed once the door was closed behind him. This was gonna be a long night.

◉💚◉

"I'm not interested in romance. I have zero romantic attraction. I'm here so my brother will leave me alone," Dean said immediately after giving his 'date' his name.

"I'm Castiel..." they looked slightly confused and Dean felt a bit bad about dumping all that in them.

"Look, I'm sure you're great, but this isn't gonna work out," Dean told them. Castiel was just staring at him. Slowly they squinted and tilted their head.

"Okay... I'm just here cause Charlie said I should do this." They told Dean. "We can just hang out?"

"Fuck yeah," Dean grinned. This night was gonna be better than he thought it would be.

◉💚◉

It just so happened that Cas (cause Dean insisted on giving people nicknames) had kids Emma's age. Twins. So they set up a play date on the spot for the next day.

"You'll love Eileen," Dean told them and Cas tilted their head again.

"Who's Eileen?"

"She's my best friend. She helps out with Em."

"Is she like... your partner? Not romantically of course."

That was a good question. Dean wasn't actually sure since they never talked about it. He contemplated his answer for a moment before speaking again.

"She's just one of my people. I love her and life would be so bad if she wasn't here. I learned a language for her. Does that answer your question?" Dean asked at the end, looking Cas over. They smiled gently.

"It does. What language did you learn?"

"ASL. I actually work at a school for deaf children now. So does Eileen." Dean told them.

"That sounds amazing. I'm just an accountant. But I've always liked numbers. Logic."

"Hey, if you enjoy it that's all that matters." Dean told them. He meant it to.

"I do. Do you enjoy your job?"

That opened a whole can of worms and Cas just sat there listening as Dean went on and on.

The rest of the night passed like that. Trading information and just getting to know one another. He could tell Cas was gonna become a good friend.

◉💚◉

When Sam came over Eileen was kind enough to take Emma out of the room for a bit. Dean did at least wait until his brother was comfortable in the house and they'd eaten lunch. Now it was go time.

"Sammy, I need you to really listen to me, okay?" Dean said slowly and carefully. He instinctively was signing as well. Even though it might be a bit distracting he didn't stop. It kinda calmed him.

"Okay," Sam nodded and gave Dean a weird look.

"I'm aromantic."

"And that means?"

"I don't like anyone romantically. I don't feel romantic attraction. Got it?"

Sam looked slightly confused but nodded again. His hair flipping about as he did.

Dean smiled. "Cool. So stop setting me up on dates. Don't even mention anything related to that to me. If it involves me that is."

Sam nodded for a third time. Then he chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking again. "So did you at least enjoy meeting Castiel?"

"Did I enjoy a date? No. Did I enjoy hanging out with Cas? Absolutely. They're great. Their kids are the same age as Emma." Dean told him. Cas was actually supposed to come over tomorrow. Not that Sam had to know that.

"Alright. Well I'm sorry, dude... if I had known-"

"Yeah, yeah, it's my fault for waiting to tell you," Dean waved his apology off.

◉💚◉

"Daddy..." Emma started. They were both on her bed. She was tucked in and he was holding a copy of Goodnight Moon in his hands.

"Yes, sweetie?" He looked at her, concerned.

"The people at daycare asked who my momma is since they never seen her. I told them that Eiween is my momma. Is that o'ay?" She asked, fidgeting with her hands.

"I think so," Dean said, pulling her close, "But I think that's a question for Eileen."

"Mmm," Emma hummed, "I'll ask morrow."

"Sounds good. Now story?" He held up the book.

"Yeah!"

The next morning she'd ask Eileen, who was more than happy to say she was Emma's mom. Dean just smiled from where he was cutting up some fruit for Emma. Letting them have their moment.

He was happy to be apart of it though. He was happy to be apart of this.

#beeps #dean winchester #eileen leahy #emma winchester #aro dean winchester #aro dean #aro eileen leahy #my writing #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fic

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cate-eblanchett · 7 months

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( t e x t ) has she been helping the brides in question with their attire btw ? oof I definitely don't wanna be on ediths enemy list, oof 🥴 geez, that make's me sound like i've revealed it all, blanchett. we may need to either keep topping up her wine or accept those spoiler's are hidden deep, man. there's only so much dumb charm i can pull. I feel like the closer it gets, the more impatient we get, what the fuck. i've gotta know the juicy detail's. ohhh shit. well, those jealousy arguments can be a real test, you either live to tell the tale or you're sleeping in the next room !! duh 😉 party first- got it, got it. If you don't, i will ! and if she decline's my invite to the bachelorette, how do we feel about a look-a-like ? michelle pfeiffer drag queen ? cat woman stripper ? just an idea. she's getting bridesmaid just for being her, that's the ultimate compliment, even better if she's an ordained minister. you can enjoy us really soon when you get your butt to NYC this week, or more so, very soon.... you can just practice your cheering once i'm in your arms again.

(Text) she is though to convince, she doesn't seem convinced with any dress yet and her opinion is really important. she adores you, you could not be on her enemies list at least you did not share chocolate bars with her or something. you and i and everybody in this house is going to sit down to watch the show tonight, i don't want to brag about it, but it feels good having Laura Peterson sitting by my side. i had some weeks where i was a little out of control with jealousy, but my future wife doesn't help, she keeps calling wife to someone else, that's why i am about to get an instagram account and start commenting on michelle pfieffer's posts "wife" until she blocks me. the stripper with a cat woman look? yes, please! YES. I will be with you very soon, i promise, have you talked to sandy lately? maybe we should take her out one of these nights too. @srahpaulsons

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daysofourlivesrecaps · 11 months

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Tuesday, 16 May 2023

We got some real good blorbo action today, friends.

John and Marlena begin to engage in their long-established foreplay ritual of eating strawberries and cream. (This is, admittedly, barely a blip on the Kink Radar but I legit love that these two septuagenarians are still so into each other.) John even whipped the cream himself! Also he brought 5001 strawberries, which is a completely arbitrary number that you really shouldn't try to read anything into.

Then Brady (John's son, Marlena's stepson; easily in his 40s and still living with these two) comes home and completely interruptuses their coitus. He whines about how he and Boring Chloe broke up and will there ever be a woman as good and pure as Boring Chloe and can you believe Boring Chloe got an apartment with Hot Xander? What does she even see in that guy, anyway?

John, meanwhile, tries to be as subtle as he can as he checks his watch and tries to remember just how long that blue pill he took is supposed to last.

(If you ever wondered if I thought I was too good to make a Viagra joke, I guess you know better now.)

Speaking of BC and HX, they are indeed still cohabitating. Chloe is lecturing Xander on the proper way to hang a picture frame (since they're all falling off the walls now) and Xander is convinced that it's not his shoddy workmanship but an actual ghost.

And sure, you may mock this notion. I did for a minute, until I remembered that the character who got *by far* the most screentime on this show in 2022 was Satan. Yes, that Satan. From school. I mean, Hell.

As he talks this out, we realize that it's *kind* of a ghost in the Scottish play sense of the concept. He's still feeling guilty about his role in the death of Susan Banks (our cat's namesake). Which is valid. We did kinda gloss over that when it happened and it's not a bad thing to circle back to.

But I immediately jumped to *we never saw her body! She could be the Mystery Hostage aboard the USS Lobsterfest!! That's gotta be why the show is reminding us about her, right?!*

Wrong. It's not Susan *or* my dark horse theory, Jan Spears. Why did I even bother hiding that in a spoiler tag yesterday?!

Von Leuschner, who is getting hotter to me with each passing day, reveals that his hostage is, in fact, Andrew. A character we've only recently met and who I'm only a little interested in because he's part of a gay couple and the show is running dangerously low on boys who kiss each other right now.

But I don't particularly care that he's being held hostage . Not when I thought of two much better possibilities right off the top of my damn head.

We also spend some time with Megan and Kristen in prison. Being, as they are, ostensibly sisters (albeit sisters who only recently met and weren't even aware of one another's existence before this year), they do what adult siblings do and pretend to show interest in each other's personal lives.

Kristen reads a letter from her daughter, Rachel, who gloats about finally breaking up her dad and That Bitch Chloe. (These are essentially eight year old Rachel's words. I would never.)

And Megan reveals that she's connected to Von Leuschner who, *btw, is actually your nephew, Kristen*. I then spent 5-10 minutes going through all the DiMeras we know and trying to work out whose kid he is. And then we find out *Megan* is his mother and I feel like a real stupid.

Having gotten the Salem Resurrection Phone Tree started to inform her massive network of relatives that she's still alive, Kate now settles in to enjoy some alone time with Roman.

"I want something," she says, and waits patiently as Roman cycles through food ("I had lobster on the boat"), a shower ("I showered on the boat, before I got into this fancy dress to eat lobster") and sleep ("not tired.")

Roman. Buddy. She hasn't seen you in *months*. She made exactly one call before turning her phone off and putting the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the hotel room door. *She wants. To. Fuck.* What in god's name is wrong with you, man?!

#Days of Our Lives #DOOL #soap opera #Peacock

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sjapa · 1 year

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40 Foolproof first Date Questions that Work every Time

Dc dating service for busy professionals. Another good safety precaution is to use a service like ADT SoSecure, which allows you to share your location with family and quickly call for help in an emergency. Do not send money through any wire transfer service to someone you met online. Not likely. I wouldn't think of someone as a hipster anyway. I prefer someone who likes a little more flavor, honestly. It gets lonely, and other than my cats, I have very little contact with others. I use dumbbells for arm sets, but it's hard to workout legs in the small cars these drivers have nowadays. However, as I progressed in this dissertation, I realized that IndieMap was not as well suited to addressing my research questions as the data I have analyzed from GitHub and IndieWeb’s chat archives. Chapter 3 describes a research approach that combines qualitative, ethnographic methods with computational methods. Now that you've joined an online dating site, the first and most important thing on your to-do list is to pimp your profile. Don't worry if you don't have enough singles in your contacts list to fill the entire event; after all, if you did, you probably wouldn't need to speed date.

They seriously need to get over themselves. You need a Statista Account for unlimited access. I would rather watch a show on Netflix. Drew Barrymore once compared Raya to "looking through an Us Weekly" during a September 2020 appearance on Watch What Happens Live With Andy Cohen. October 2017: Us Weekly reports that Lopez and Rodriguez have started looking for a home in New York together. What would it take to have convincing evidence of discrimination, or its absence? We have a long, intimate conversation to resolve things. The search option gives you two choices, one is based on your current location and the other is by entering your zip code (within a 300 mile radius). What if I’m always the first one to reach out? At the 2012 iDate Mobile Dating Conference, the first ever consumer focus group for mobile dating apps unanimously reiterated the same complaints from years prior.

The biggest dating rumour was that Jimin was dating fellow K-pop star Han Seung-yeon from the group KARA. נערות ליווי ברמת גן Important dating question! Would you date… Examples of dating red flags are: Talking only about themselves, avoiding difficult conversations, gossiping about their ex, and withholding affection.. With so many options for international dating sites, the world is truly your oyster. I love spice, but it's not the end of the world if they don't. We get it all the time where people are like, “Oh I would love to do the stuff that you guys show at a demo.” Like, okay yes, but the thing we just showed as a demo took three Web developers a month to put on and there’s no one-click installation. Again, who cares what people eat? They get old, but who cares? They can act to get people off sites immediately to help safeguard you and others. People inevitably get what they deserve. Ugh, people are supposed to eat meat. Ugh, gross. She must be so insecure. I assume she must be afraid to go without it, which is pretty sad. Yet in reality, these folks struggle to find the girl they want to be with.

I see those Lululemons and Snapchat filter, girl. OK, pretty often. But you should see where I live! OK, maybe I do a little. Meh, sometimes I wear makeup to the gym, too, but hers seems like a little much. Meh, I don't really care if they LOL in an outdated way. • Your likes and dislikes means a lot for Mingle2, so taking care of this now Mingle2 brings the advantage to whom you want chat and date and to whom you want to block in your profile. Virtually nothing. We all want a boyfriend as passionate as Edward, or a girlfriend as faithful as Bella. What they eat has nothing to do with me! I think it's super unhealthy and they should cut back. However, he has a rest period, so he and a few other slaves trudge back to the center of Pompeii along the Via dell'Abbondanza. However, when the organism dies, this feeding stops, and the decay of the 14C atoms begins. Privilege is real. So much of life boils down to the cards you were dealt.

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treecakes · 3 years

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#.... yeah. :/#yes i did start watching this show for the talking cat. it’s what convinced me.#nyanko-sensei is annoying but it’s okay the show breaks your heart every episode it’s so worth it #natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume’s book of friends

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

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atzuums · 3 years

Text

you give him the silent treatment

includes: suna, atsumu, bokuto, & ushijima

pairing: character x fem! reader

genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

a/n: honestly atsumu’s is the only one i liked, i could’ve done better on the others :(

+ suna rintarō

you both sat on opposite sides of the couch, arms crossed, and refusing to look at each other. suna bet that you couldn't go a day without talking to him and you weren’t gonna let him win. he tried his hardest to get you to fail but you wouldn't, which is why he’s pouting.

“just talk to me. i miss your voice.” he whined. he looked at you with puppy eyes attempting to convince you. you smirked at him and just looked at.

“look even if you talk right now i’ll say you won.”

no you wont.

you knew his tricks. he says this now but after you talk he will begin teasing you on how he successfully tricked you. you only have two hours left before its been 24 hours since you’ve talked to him. you can do it.

“baaaabe.” he whines.

an idea sparked in suna’s head. he knew just what to do to get you to talk to him. he crept up behind you and slowly guided his hands to your waist. he waited only a short moment before attacking your sides with his dancing fingers.

you let out a yelp before thrashing around in an attempt to get him to stop. you were laughing so hard that you were struggling to breath.

“i’ll stop as soon as you tell me too.” he smirked at you.

you refused. you could endure this. but suna noticed and started ticking you harder.

“STOP.” you finally yelled out. suna looked at you with a satisfied smile.

+ miya atsumu

atsumu didn’t think it was his fault. yes, maybe he did leave the front door wide open which is why your cat ran away but it’s not really his fault. right?

atsumu was pretty sure that the kitten would show back up but after 3 days and no return he knew he had fucked up.

he knew you were angry at him, hell you haven’t talked to him in 3 days, but your sadness overshadowed that. he watched from across the room as you fiddled with the small stuffed squirrel toy that you had gotten for your kitten.

he really fucked up. he knew what he had to do but he didn’t know if it would really make up for what he did. so nervously, he returns home one day, hands behind his back. a surprise for you. you weren’t paying attention to him though. you continued to scroll through your phone, ignoring his existence.

“hey baby.” he hoped you would at least look up at him even if you wouldn’t talk

“babyyyy i have a surprise for you.” he added. you continued to ignore him. how could he show you if you wont pay attention to him? his question was answered when your head shot up at the sound of a small meow coming from behind his back.

“luna?” you called your cats name, looking up at atsumu. he looked down.

“no, i looked everywhere for her but i couldn’t find her. im so sorry baby. i know this doesn’t make up for it but i was hoping it would lessen your pain.” he finally brought the black and white kitty from behind his back.

she wasn’t your kitty but she was adorable nonetheless. atsumu carefully placed the kitten your lap and she instantly started to climb up onto your shoulder. she sniffed your ear which made you giggle.

atsumu smiled, it was nice to see you happy again.

“thank you tsumu.”

+ bokuto koutarou

bokuto was spiraling. you fought a lot but most of the time it was just playful fights, so when you had a real fight bokuto didn’t take you seriously. at all. this angered you and you haven’t talked to him all day.

the fight was about how he wasn’t making time for you. you knew volleyball was extremely important to him and that practices often were almost avoidable. however, even on his off days he would go out with his volleyball teammates. as if he doesn’t already spend ever waking moment with them. does your time together not matter to him?

it didn’t help when he began to joke about you being jealous of his teammates. you were completely serious and he was joking about it. when you realized the fight was going no where with him, you walked off into the guest room and you haven’t come out since.

bokuto stood outside of the guest room. he wasn’t sure if he should knock or give you as much space as you needed. he missed you though, and he didn’t know how much longer he could be without you in his arms again.

as he stood there in thought he heard quiet sobs coming out of the room. his heart broke. this is all his fault.

“sunshine?” hearing him call you this caused your cries to abruptly stop.

“i know you don’t want to see me right now but i just wanted to say that i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to invalidate your feelings by making a joke of the fight. you mean the world to me. you are my world. i promise to make time for you from now on. i want to spend the rest of my life with you and i don’t want that to be ruined by my dumb mistakes. so whenever you’re ready, im here. i love you.”

he didn’t get a response, he understood though. he knew you would need more time. he’s just glad that he told you what he needed to tell you.

he stood there in silence for a few moments, hoping that he would get some kind of acknowledgment from you. he got nothing.

he started to walk away but the sound of the door opening halted him. without thinking he pulled you into his arms, burring his face in the crook of your neck.

“it’s okay kou. i love you too.”

+ ushijima wakatoshi

sometimes toshi’s bluntness was unbearable. you knew that he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but that doesn’t change the fact that he very much did.

“you have to study harder otherwise you will continue to fail. it’s no one’s fault but your own that you’re failing a class.” the memory of what he said ran through your brain again.

what hurt that most is that he’s right. it is your own fault. you haven’t been trying your hardest. it just hurt for toshi to so bluntly point that out.

you knew he didn’t deserve the silent treatment but you couldn’t look him in the eye. you felt embarrassed really. your own boyfriend realized your a failure, how do you cope with that.

“y/n?” toshi’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. you didn’t respond and looked down as you fiddled with your fingers.

“why aren’t you answering me?” he simply asked. your only response was the shrug of your shoulders. toshi continued to look at you, attempting to read you. had he done something to you? he couldn’t remember.

“if i did something or said something to anger you im sorry.” you felt bad, he was apologizing and didn’t even know what he did. you weren’t being fair to him and you knew it.

“it’s just what you said about me failing my class. you weren’t wrong but it still hurt.” you finally spoke up. toshi’s eyebrows furrowed. at first he couldn’t remember what he had said but then it hit him.

“honey im sorry. i hope you know i didn’t mean harm by it. i just want to encourage you to do better. i know that if you keep failing then you’ll only be disappointed in yourself. i don’t want that for you.” your heart warmed at finding out what he actually meant.

“it’s okay toshi, come here.” you smiled at him. he reluctantly walked over to you and you wrapped your arms around his wait before laying your head on his chest.

“i appreciate you for looking out for me. i love you.”

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak, @dracothulhu, @thepallaspalace, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

#Rey #Finn #Poe Dameron #Sheev Palpatine #Luke Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Darth Sidious #Plo Koon #Shaak Ti #Ahsoka Tano #r2d2 #bb 8 #star wars #time travel #Rey and the Grandfather Paradox #Phoenix Posts

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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