#SLEEPLESS HAUNTING MY THOUGHTS

[monards]

SSLLEEEPLESS YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL GENIUS I LOVE YOU AND I NEED EVERYONE ELSE TO READ THIS. OHHGUUMYYGOODDDDD

the more I think of hexenzirkel modern au the funnier it gets

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SLEEPLESS NIGHT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Spencer finally has a night to sleep at his apartment with his girlfriend, but the current case doesn't even let him close his eyes, leading him to study the files until ungodly hours. But who said that Y/N can sleep away from him?

WARNING: Slightly mention of age gap (reader is still in college), tooth rotting fluff.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Spencer hated bringing work home, and he had two very specific reasons for it. First, he loathed the idea of mixing his work life with his personal life. The BAU was a constant source of darkness; gruesome crimes, twisted minds, and the unrelenting pressure to solve the unsolvable.

His home was the opposite: a place of light and warmth, a refuge from the horrors that haunted him on a daily basis. But more importantly, home was where Y/N was. She was the one person who could pull him from the depths of his thoughts, her mere presence offering a calm that he couldn't find anywhere else. She was his life, his anchor, and his sanctuary.

Their time together was sacred, especially with the demands of his job taking him away so often. Whether he was chasing unsubs across the country or spending endless hours poring over case files at the BAU, being away from Y/N was the hardest part of his job. When he was home, he wanted to be fully present, to make up for the time he lost while he was away.

He cherished the quiet moments, the lazy evenings where they could simply exist together without the weight of the world bearing down on him. He wanted to give her every ounce of his attention, to make her feel just how much she meant to him.

But then, there were nights like tonight, when the case followed him home despite his best intentions, forcing him to divide his focus in a way that always left him feeling guilty.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, filtered through the sheer curtains that hung over the windows. The clock on the nightstand read 2:37 AM, its gentle green glow a quiet reminder of how late it had become.

Spencer lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling, though his mind was far from still. It raced, chasing the loose ends of the case, replaying details, searching for the missing link that could unravel everything. The unsub was smart, meticulous in his planning, calculating in his movements. It was unnerving, the way this case was so close to home, right here in Quantico.

Hotch had granted the team a rare night to return home and rest, knowing the work would pick up again with relentless intensity in the morning. Spencer knew he should be grateful for the chance to sleep in his own bed, to hold Y/N close, and let her warmth lull him into rest. But sleep felt impossible.

Beside him, Y/N slept soundly, her body curled against his. One arm rested across his chest, her hand fisting tightly the fabric of his white shirt and her hand tucked beneath his shoulder, as if even in sleep, she sought him out. Her breathing was soft and even, the slow rise and fall of her chest a soothing rhythm against his side.

Spencer turned his head slightly, watching her. She looked peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips, probably remains of a dream. His heart clenched with love, a wave of warmth and tenderness washing over him.

With a soft sigh, Spencer slid his right arm beneath her, his hand resting gently on her back, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of the sweater she wore - his sweater. He brought his other hand down to her bare leg, carefully shifting her until her right one draped across his thighs, her body instinctively curling closer to him, almost laying fully above him.

His fingers trailed softly along her thigh, the smooth skin warm beneath his touch. The gesture was soothing, grounding him in the present moment, in the feel of her against him. His thumb stroked lazy circles on her flesh, his touch light and reverent, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her - as if he already didn't had each part of her craved inside his head.

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. It was a mixture of her shampoo and something uniquely hers, a scent that had always brought him comfort. His lips brushed against the delicate skin of her closed eyelids, another kiss pressed to her temple. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt.

His right hand traveled across the fabric of his sweater, slipping below it, his fingertips sliding higher, brushing against the bare skin of her back. She was so warm, her skin so soft, and the feel of her made something inside him settle, if only for a moment. He continued to stroke her thigh with one hand, his other one gently massaging the muscles of her back, feeling the way her body relaxed further into him.

He stared at her for a long moment, his mind flickering between her and work. He didn’t want to leave her alone in bed, didn’t want to let it drag him away from her. Spencer knew Y/N deserved a good night's sleep more than anyone. She had been tirelessly studying for her college finals, always the most academically involved and dedicated in her class, which caused her to staying up late, buried in textbooks and research papers - just as he spent sleepless nights away on cases.

But even as he held her close, the details of the case gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, refusing to be ignored.

With a reluctant sigh, he carefully began to shift, his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb her. His hand on her thigh slid away, and he gently eased her leg off his hips, tucking it back beneath the blankets. She mumbled softly in her sleep, her body instinctively moving toward his warmth even as he slipped out from under her.

Spencer sat up, pausing for a moment as he watched her stir. Her hand reached for him in her sleep, her face burrowing further into his pillow as if searching for his scent. The sight made his chest tighten with both affection and guilty.

With one last glance at Y/N, Spencer stood, moving with the quiet precision of someone who was used to slipping away in the dead of night. He padded silently out of the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his feet.

The apartment was shrouded in a heavy, comfortable darkness, the only sound breaking the quiet being the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Spencer moved with practiced silence, stepping lightly through the familiar space until he reached the small room they’d turned into a makeshift office. It was cluttered with his books, scattered papers, and, more recently, case files.

He flicked on the desk lamp, casting a soft, amber glow across the cluttered desk. His movements were slow, careful not to disturb the serene quiet that enveloped the apartment as he sank into his chair, rescuing his folded glasses from between all those papers.

In front of him lay the case file, the photographs of the victims staring back at him as if mocking his inability to piece it all together. He scanned the reports for what felt like the hundredth time, his brow creased in thought, eyes darting over the details.

Minutes bled into an hour, maybe more. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose as he leaned in closer to the desk, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the crime scene photos. His other hand tugged at the cuff of his pajama sleeve, lost in the rhythm of his restless thoughts.

Just then, the sound of soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor reached his ears, the faint shuffling of bare feet snapping him out of his thoughts. He barely turned in his chair before he saw her; a sleepy, disheveled Y/N standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the faint glow of the hallway light. The sleeves of his sweater were falling over her hands, causing her shoulders to become exposed, and her eyes were heavy with the remnants of sleep.

"Spence..." She mumbled, her voice raspy and thick with drowsiness. The sight of her tugged at his heart in the most tender way.

Spencer’s face softened instantly, guilt creeping in at the edges of his thoughts. He’d woken her.

"Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, pushing the file aside and giving her his full attention. His voice was quiet, filled with concern. "What are you doing awake? You should be asleep."

Y/N blinked at him, the bleariness in her eyes making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable. She swayed slightly on her feet, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I woke up... and you weren’t there." She slurred softly, taking a small step toward him, her expression confused and sleepy.

His heart clenched at her words, a wave of guilt washing over him. He hated that he’d caused her to wake up, especially on a week that she spent too much time studying and having little to no rest. He adjusted his posture above the chair, motioning her closer with gentle hands, but Y/N was already moving on her own, shuffling across the room with slow, sleepy steps, her gaze never leaving him.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, dove." He whispered as she reached him. He reached out with his hands as she practically fell into his arms.

She pushed his arms open with little effort and maneuvered herself onto his lap, pressing against him as if seeking out the warmth she’d missed. Her legs straddled his thighs, her knees resting above the sides of the chair, her body curling around his like a koala hugging a tree. The weight of her felt perfect, grounding him as she nestled closer, her chest rising and falling softly against him.

"Spence, don’t apologize." She murmured, her breath tickling the skin of his neck as she shifted, her nose nuzzling into the curve of it, seeking his scent. She pressed her face against him, her lips brushing feather-light against the sensitive skin just below his ear as she planted a sleepy kiss. "You know I just can’t sleep well without you."

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the soft, familiar feeling of her lips against his neck sending warmth coursing through him. His left hand instinctively found her back, his fingers running to the hem of his sweater and lifting it slightly, making room for hand to enter under the fabric and meet her skin, spreading his fingers as he began tracing lazy circles along her spine, soothing her.

Y/N sighed in pleasure, her left hand gently crawling up to his face. Her fingers softly traced the rough stubble along his cheek before instinctively pushing his glasses back up to their proper place, her fingertips grazing the bridge of his nose in a familiar, soothing motion.

He smiled softly, his guilt still lingering but melting slightly under the comfort of her touch. She was so close, so vulnerable in her half-asleep state, and it made him feel even more protective of her.

"You should be in bed." He whispered, his voice low and affectionate, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "You have finals tomorrow... and this position’s going to make your back hurt in the morning." He tried to sound stern, but the amusement in his tone betrayed him. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly as Y/N shifted again, her hand leaving his face and meeting the other side of his neck, her right arm tightening around his torso in silent protest.

"I don’t care." She mumbled into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. "I love you. I want to be here."

His heart swelled at her words, an overwhelming wave of love flooding him. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the comforting scent of her.

"I love you more." He whispered back, his voice barely audible as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair. His hand never stopped its rhythmic movement along her back, his touch gentle and tender.

Y/N hummed in response, her breathing already slowing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her back toward sleep. Spencer could feel the way her body relaxed against his, her weight becoming heavier as she melted further into him. She was so peaceful, her soft breaths brushing against his skin in a steady rhythm.

Spencer's eyes drifted to the case file still resting on the desk, his mind unwilling to let go of the details he was trying to piece together. His hand continued to trail soothing patterns on her back, and he tilted his head down, pressing another kiss to her temple, noticing how her body was giving way to sleep again.

"Let me tuck you back into bed, sweetheart." He whispered against her skin, insisting. "You need the proper rest."

But Y/N shifted in his lap, shaking her head, clearly unwilling to move.

"No." She mumbled, her voice soft but convincing. "What I need is to be with you." She burrowed her face deeper into his neck, pressing her nose against his skin and nuzzling him like she was trying to become a part of him. "Let me stay here. Please."

Spencer sighed softly, feeling torn between the the case and the warmth of Y/N in his arms. He glanced back at Y/N, her soft breathing and her peaceful face pressed against his neck, shaking his head with how stubborn she could be.

Wrapping his arms fully around her, he held her close, one hand still caressing her back while the other pulled the case file closer to him again, reopening it and going back to the first page.

[luvsupa]

“SHALL WE RESUME, MY LADY?”

tags: heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, kissing, servants are bullies :(, BLOOD + KILLING, smut-ish (?), ANGST, readers called little one, my lady, my queen, sukuna lovessss reader but doesn’t wanna show it.

w.c: 1.8k

a/n:ITS BEEN LONG SINCE I WROTE PART 3 FOR SUKUNAAA, so pls read (part 1 + part 2) to understand this :p (or don’t 😔)

-part 1 was my first ever story so pls don’t mind the terrible writing 🤕

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!!

for weeks now, since your intimate encounter with sukuna in his chambers, his words have echoed relentlessly in your mind:

“you belong to me, mind, body, and soul.”

unable to shake his haunting assertion, you find yourself lost in a fog during your duties, drawing the king’s scorn for your clumsiness—pathetic, he silently judges.

you’ve been desperately trying to avoid sukuna, feeling his ominous presence lurking near the servants’ quarters, dangerously close to your room. each night, you pretend to be asleep, hoping he won’t enter.

uraume and the other servants and concubines have noticed your distraction, their whispers and spiteful glances intensifying your growing distress.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, walking towards the grand kitchen, you feel yourself being harshly pushed—nearly losing your balance. you turn to face the two brunettes who always accompany sukuna in his chambers.

“look at her,” one sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. “she looks even more pitiful than usual. you’d think she’d try harder, especially with tomorrow’s annual gift-giving ceremony.”

your heart drops, and you feel the blood drain from your face as the realization hits you—you had completely forgotten about it. shit.

the other brunette catches your expression and smirks, leaning closer.

“oh, you did not know?” she mocks, her eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. “did you truly forget? lost in your own little world? pathetic. do not think sukuna-sama has not noticed your incompetence. if i were you, i would be prepared to face his wrath tomorrow.”

before you can respond, the brunettes walk away, laughing cruelly amongst themselves. fear grips you as you stand there, contemplating the consequences of your forgetfulness. this time, he might seek to end my life.

sukuna spared your life once before, but now? you’ve truly done it.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

morning arrives, finding you sleepless and anxious, having spent the night wrestling with decisions on what gift would appease the king of curses. regret gnaws at you—you could have been better prepared.

if only you had listened to uraume’s instructions, you wouldn’t be scrambling now to please sukuna.

a loud groan escapes you, not just from lacking a suitable offering but from the impending threat of losing your life in front of everyone.

your thoughts shatter as your door creaks open. uraume enters, carrying a basket laden with ceremonial attire.

“sukuna-sama will return soon from his mission,” uraume states matter-of-factly, approaching your bedside and handing you the basket. your gaze fixes on the black and gold kimono. “in the meantime, prepare your gift for our king,” they remind you, prompting your heart to skip a beat. you nod gratefully as uraume exits the room.

you linger, captivated by the elegance of the wooden basket. slowly, an idea begins to take shape.

i hope this idea will work…

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you hurriedly slip into the black and gold kimono uraume handed you, the fabric draping elegantly over your curves as you smooth out its silk folds.

grabbing the basket, you rush out of your room, navigating through the crowded hallways filled with servants, concubines, and guards all preparing to present their gifts to the king.

anxiety grips you as the chatter rises, signaling the ceremony may have already begun. finally reaching the garden, you drop to your knees, swiftly gathering orchids, red camellias, and wisterias.

heart pounding, you carefully arrange the brightly coloured flowers in the basket, leaving space for more. glancing around the vast garden for inspiration, you freeze as you spot a familiar figure in the distance, surrounded by guards and soldiers.

shit.

your pulse quickens as sukuna approaches the estate. you force yourself to calm down, needing clarity to finish your task.

turning to the fruit garden, you ignore the dirt on your kimono as you hurriedly gather peaches, oranges, and pomegranates from the trees, arranging them neatly in the basket.

with your last-minute gift finally perfected, you hope he will at least appreciate the effort. as cheers and applause erupt, signaling sukuna’s arrival, you hasten back to join the line of gift-givers, heart still racing with fear.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the ceremony unfolds in a chamber unfamiliar to you, far larger than sukuna’s usual domain, filled with hundreds and hundreds of servants seated on comfortable cushions, rows of expectant faces awaiting the ceremony’s commencement.

as you wait nervously, you glance around at the lavish offerings others have brought—paintings, gleaming gold jewelry, fine silk robes, ancient artifacts, perfumes, and oils. in contrast, your basket of fruits and flowers seems painfully simple.

whispers and snickers ripple through the crowd, directed at your low-value gift, almost insulting to the king, as the laughter grew louder and more pointed. the embarrassment increases, now overwhelming you.

“silence.”

his voice cuts through the room like thunder, instantly quieting the chatter as all heads bow. only you remain defiantly gazing at sukuna from his elevated throne. he looks magnificent, his towering frame draped in a dark cotton robe that accentuates his scarlet eyes—those unsettling eyes that draw you in despite your fear.

“do you consider yourself more worthy than others to not bow?”

his voice pierces through you, shocking you out of your thoughts. you hadn’t realized you were staring at him so openly. a nearby servant nudges your head down forcefully, a silent command to acknowledge sukuna’s authority.

uraume then signals the first row to approach sukuna with their gifts. as he settles into his throne, one of his lower eye fixates on you with a chilling intensity, reminding you of the difference of ground upon which you stand.

the two brunettes, who supposedly despised you, were the first to present their gifts. all eyes watched as they offered lavish amounts of gold and diamonds to sukuna. you couldn’t help but notice the satisfaction that spread across his face, a subtle amusement evident as he casually placed the gift with one of lower arms behind him.

they took their places on either side of his throne, making way for the next in line. as the line shortened, your turn approached rapidly.

you watched with nervous anticipation as sukuna accepted one of the servants gifts— the beautifully sculpted artifacts and golden treasures—

slash!

the servant’s head was cleanly severed, a loud thud echoing through the room. gasps filled the air as the shock spread through the assembled crowd. some of the seasoned servants were used to sukuna’s impulsive acts, but this was the first time you had witnessed such brutality. blood splattered across his face, yet he remained unfazed, awaiting the next offerings.

you covered your mouth, stifling a scream of horror. the fear of becoming the next victim intensified as you compared your gift to the high valued gift he had just received.

how could he appreciate your offering if he did not enjoy the artifacts?

you were on edge, continuously hearing numerous slash and thuds that kept racing your heart. his gaze seemed to linger on you, intensifying your dread.

unaware that it was your turn next, you suddenly found yourself on the elevated floor, your gift clearly visible to all below. laughter erupted among the watching servants, their anticipation of your downfall.

you felt all four of his eyes fixated on you, observing your trembling form, your eyes flickering nervously as you struggled to stay composed. stepping cautiously over a puddle of blood, you nervously approached his throne.

with trembling hands, you presented the basket of flowers and fruits. below, the two brunettes knelt, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

sukuna silently observed the basket, his large hands delicately holding the tiny fruits. he plucked out peaches, pomegranates, and oranges with two hands while the other two hands carefully examined the flowers, bringing them to his nose to inhale their earthly fragrance. then, to your surprise, sukuna’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“little one,” he said in a low velvety voice that sent shivers down your spine. “you surprise me.” 

the crowd exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain of how to interpret sukuna’s unexpected reaction. the two kneeling servants looked up at sukuna in disbelief, their faces turning pale as they realized their own gifts, despite their value, had not elicited such a response.

sukuna carefully placed everything back into the basket, then lifted a ripe peach to his lips. his intense gaze locked onto yours as he took a deliberate bite, savouring the sweetness. loudly humming at the sweet taste.

unexpectedly, two of sukuna’s free hands reached out and gently grabbed your waist. you squealed in surprise at the sudden contact as sukuna swiftly spun you around, placing you on his lap with your back is against his chest. his third hand delicately tilted your chin, looking up towards him.

“‘kuna…” you began, mindlessly calling him by a forbidden nickname. but his lips cut off your words in a hungry kiss. the taste of peach lingered on his lips, blending with the sweet intensity of the moment. his kiss was fierce, brimming with a raw passion.

sukuna’s large hand snakes up to the crevice of your neck, and to your surprise, another mouth formed on his hand, trailing down to suck and kiss a sensitive spot on your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by his kiss, and he grinned at your reaction.

the brunettes stared up at the two of you with utter jealousy, never having received such intimacy from their king. the entire room gaped in shock; they had never witnessed the king of curses succumb so readily to a mere servant.

sukuna then pulls away, leaving you dizzy from the closeness. his presence seems to envelop you, making you feel intoxicated by his mere touch. with a gentle touch, sukuna adjusts your slouched posture, his hands holding you firmly against his broad chest. leaning down, he kisses your ear softly.

“you will judge which gift is worthy,” he begins, his closeness making your head spin even more. “if anything displeases you, I will take care of it,” he murmurs, hinting at even more slashes. another hand snaking up to your neck, softly applying pressure to restore your stability.

if anything you feel a rush of arousal.

“i will obey your every command, my queen. i am yours to command,” he declares softly, causing you to whimper in response. gasps fill the room as they witness the king of curses submitting himself to you.

“shall we resume, my lady?”

[littleprinceabdullah]

"Born into Hope Amidst Destruction: Abdullah's Journey from Gaza"

Hello, I am little prince Abdullah, and I am a six-month-old baby from Gaza. I was born into extremely difficult circumstances amidst war and destruction. Let me tell you my story from the beginning.

Daddy, Mahmoud, is a young dentist, 25 years old. Mom, Abeer, is also a dentist, and they were eagerly awaiting my arrival (their little prince as they called me), dreaming of a bright future for me.

My parents got married and moved into a new home, spending two joyful months there before everything changed drastically on October 7, 2023, when the war in Gaza began. Our home, and the clinic were all destroyed in an instant. They had to flee with only a few clothes, having nowhere else to go. The place that was supposed to be filled with love and laughter turned into rubble and ash.

Mom endured her pregnancy amidst the war, without enough food, water, or medicine. As I grew inside her, I could feel the stress and fear that surrounded us. Mom often went without proper nourishment, sacrificing her own well-being to ensure that I had a chance to come into this world. Every night, she would cradle her belly, whispering prayers and promises of a better life, even as bombs fell around us. She dreamed of holding me in a safe place, free from the horrors of war, where I could grow up surrounded by love and peace.

Despite the chaos, dad and mom clung to the hope that I would be a symbol of a brighter future. They imagined my first smile, my first tooth, my first steps, my first words, and the joy of seeing me grow up in a home filled with laughter. But the reality was far from those dreams. Mom faced countless sleepless nights, worrying if she could bring me safely into a world that seemed determined to tear us apart.

When the time came for me to be born (6th, Apr.2024), there were no hospitals with clean beds, no doctors ready to ensure my safe arrival. My parents faced this moment with courage and a deep, unyielding love, praying that I would be born healthy despite the dire conditions. Each day inside my mom's womb, I felt her love and fear. I heard her heart beat fast when explosions echoed nearby, and I felt her tears when she thought about the uncertain future we faced. She whispered to me that I was her miracle, her reason to keep fighting, and she promised to do everything in her power to give me a life worth living.

Now that I am six months old, my parents continue to face immense challenges. I have spent my first six months of life in a world of uncertainty and hardship. There are days when my parents struggle to find enough food and clean water for us. They do their best to keep me safe and healthy, but the lack of proper medical care and basic necessities makes every day a battle.

My parents' love and determination are unwavering. They look at me with a mix of love and desperation, knowing they are unable to provide the comfort and security every baby deserves. Each day is a struggle for survival, and the joy of my birth is constantly overshadowed by fear and uncertainty. They dream of a world where I can play safely, have a warm bed to sleep in, and grow up healthy and happy. Instead, they face the harsh reality of war, where every moment is filled with anxiety and the haunting thought of what tomorrow might bring. Their only wish is to see me smile, free from the burdens that weigh so heavily on their hearts.

Here is daddy's account telling his own story: @mah99moud

The pressures and burdens on our family continue to grow, so my parents decided to turn to the GoFundMe platform, seeking help from kind-hearted people around the world.

Your generosity can turn our darkest days into a beacon of hope. Please consider helping us rebuild our lives and give me a chance to experience the childhood every child deserves, and help my parents rebuild their lives. Please, help us restore hope for a better tomorrow and give me a chance to grow up in a world where dreams are possible, not destroyed. Every donation, no matter how small, will make a significant difference in our lives.

Thank you for your kindness and generosity.

[aquaticmercy]

Sleeper

Summary : When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.

Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Violence, death, sex (a prominent theme but not graphic), cursing. Borderline obsessive behaviour. Congressman Barnes as per the Thunderbolts teaser. Batman/Catwoman-like dynamic. (Let me know if I miss anything.)

Word count : 6.5k

Note : This fic was genuinely written because of the van scene in the Thunderbolts trailer. That’s it. That’s how down bad I am for Thunderbolts Bucky. Reader is an antihero called ‘Sleeper.’ The Thunderbolts are referred to as ‘the team.’ The reader and Bucky first met a little bit before FATWS. I also have a cap! Sam fic coming out soon because my god. I am drooling over these two. Enjoy!

Bucky first heard of your existence in whispers.

He had heard your codename in hushed tones when he got off the ice in Wakanda, after Shuri helped rid his brain of the trigger words that haunted him.

Several of the Dora Milaje had crossed paths with you in Ivory Coast, and they had told everyone in the palace about how terrifyingly efficient—and violent— you had been. They said you finished the job before they even got there.

Your codename was nothing but silent rumours by those on the fringes of the intelligence community. They called you ‘Sleeper’— it wasn't a name you chose for yourself, but you have chosen to embrace the fear that people associated with it. 

You were an antihero, a vigilante who left rivers of blood in your wake.

Four years ago, you started tracking down the same corrupt officials and Hydra remnants that Bucky was trying to arrest.

The difference: Bucky set out to turn them in, you had your heart set on killing them, fast and efficient, as you always have been.

The first time you crossed paths with the former Winter Soldier, it was in a crumbling KGB safehouse in Eastern Europe. Bucky had taken down most of the guards, ready to haul the high-ranking operative to a jail cell in DC where he can await his trial. He was tired, the strain of therapy and sleepless nights holding him down, but this mission kept him focused.

But when he reached the operative’s office, the target was already slumped over his desk, cold and lifeless. 

"Guess I beat you to it, soldier," you said, voice laced with a confidence that made his stomach twist. You let him process the sight of you—fitted black suit, gloved hands, and a smirk that told him you were not only dangerous, but damn well aware of it. A mask obscured your eyes, but even with half of your face covered, he could see how smug you looked.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he said, voice low.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking for you permission.” You tilted your head, the ghost of a laugh in your voice. You were watching him, sizing him up with those sharp eyes that felt like they could through see every part of him he tried to keep hidden. 

“Sergeant James Barnes, right?” You said his name with a familiarity that sent a jolt through him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Never thought I’d actually run into you, though. Lucky night for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, not trusting this mysterious stranger, though he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. “And you are…?”

“I have no name to claim for myself,” you shrugged, leaning back against the wall, “but people call me Sleeper.” You let the name linger, knowing he’d recognize it. 

His memory reeled back to Ayo and the Dora Milaje, who had warned him of you: ruthless, volatile. A ghost who disappeared without a trace, always a step ahead. He’d just never expected Sleeper to be… so easy on the eyes.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” He repeated with no conviction. He narrowed his eyes at the body. “Especially not like this.”

You shrugged, pushing off the wall and strolling over. “Relax, soldier,” your gaze met his, “I only go after the ones who deserve it. Just because I do it my way doesn’t mean I’m the villain here.”

“Still doesn’t make it right,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of curiosity underneath his stormy blue eyes.

“Then stop me,” you challenged softly, leaning close enough to feel his breath. “If you can.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly.

You grinned, a spark of intrigue lighting up in your gaze. “I’ll be waiting, James.”

And before he could respond, you were gone.

He knew he should’ve stopped you— but some part of him was glad he hadn’t. 

As you disappeared, he felt something he hadn’t in a long, long time: excitement.

—

From that day on, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. 

At first, it was frustrating. You were hard to track, ruthless—and yet there was a sickening righteous principle to your actions that he couldn’t deny.

As the weeks went by, something else rooted in his brain when he thought of you. Fascination. 

His mind often wandered about you during his quiet, sleepless nights, wondering who you were beneath the mask, beneath the mystery and the whispers.

Sam noticed, of course. He'd raise an eyebrow whenever Bucky lingered too long over case files where you'd been mentioned. He’d nudge if he seemed overly eager to volunteer for missions that involved your typical targets.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll show,” Sam teased once, nudging Bucky. “She’s dangerous, though. Is that your type?”

Bucky scoffed, but he knew Sam was right. And maybe that danger was part of what kept him intrigued.

—

The next time you crossed paths, it was in a dark alleyway, both of you dripping with sweat and breathing heavily after taking down an underground fighting ring. 

“You know,” he’d said, “killing them doesn’t make it justice.”

“You think turning them in is enough?” Your voice had cut through the air like a knife, but there was no malice behind it. You wanted him to understand your line of thinking, wanted him to know. “People like them are everywhere. They’ll get out. They’ll come back.”

“So you think you get to decide whether they live or die?” he challenged, jaw tight.

“No,” you said, readjusting your mask. “But I do it anyway.” There was a flicker of sadness in your gaze that he noticed, even if you tried to hide it.

What had happened to you? He thought to himself. What have you been through?

In that moment, he noticed the pain behind your eyes, the kind of pain he knew intimately. You weren’t just someone who killed for vengeance; you must have had your reasons. You must have carried scars that ran deep, maybe deeper than his.

—

From that point on, Bucky made it a habit to look for you on every mission. It was like an unspoken game, this cat-and-mouse chase. Every time he saw you, the tension between you grew. 

Sometimes, he’d get there first, managing to intercept before you could execute the target. Other times, you’d arrive at the same time. He’d try to talk you out of it, to make you see things his way, but you’d laugh him off, the kind of laugh that hinted at more than your fair share of heartache. 

And sometimes, you’d tease him, push boundaries he wasn’t sure he should cross.

“You like this, don’t you, James?” You’d whisper it low, close enough for him to catch your scent, a faint hint of gunpowder and vanilla perfume. “The chase. Getting to play the hero while I get my hands dirty.”

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. 

—

Bucky grew obsessed, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Every encounter left him more and more drawn to you. He’d search for files on you for days on end without sleep, but all he found were reports with no concrete evidence. He found himself looking for excuses to track your movements, hoping he’d be there to stop you but not quite sure he wanted to succeed.

One night, after another close call, you leaned into him as he pushed you up against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the electricity charged in the space between you. You looked up at him, the smallest hint of vulnerability peeking through your mask.

“Why do you keep doing this, James?” you asked, voice softer this time. “You can’t save me.”

“Maybe not,” he replied, frowning as his eyes looked down to the edge of your lips, “but I can try.”

That night, he wondered just how long he could keep up this dance before one of you finally gave in.

—

One night, while you were on a caper in Prague, everything changed for the two of you. 

The mission had been bloody, chaotic, and a little too close to mayhem for Bucky’s liking. You had taken down an entire network of arms dealers, setting fire to one of their last remaining munitions blocks and leaving it to burn. 

Bucky had arrived too late, frantically trying to contain the chaos you’d left in your wake, alerting local authorities, making sure the flames didn’t spread to a nearby market.

When he caught up to you, adrenaline ran hot through his veins. 

He'd followed you through winding streets and up dark staircases, up to the hotel you were holed up in. He followed you into your room, locking you both in.

His voice was tight, anger simmering beneath. “You’re careless.” His blue eyes were striking underneath the european moonlight, “you could’ve taken out half the neighbourhood, and for what?”

“I got the job done, James.” You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “It’s not pretty, but it works.”

He stepped closer, and you held his gaze, “You know, I’d turn you in if you weren’t so…” he paused, his voice faltering, as if the words were lodged in his throat, “Weren’t so…”

Your pulse quickened. “If I weren’t so what?” You snapped, daring him to finish, to admit what had been hanging between you two since the day you met.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a fierce, bruising kiss.

You didn’t hesitate—you kissed him back with just as much fire, your hands tangling in his hair.

Bucky’s hands found your waist, fingers digging in with enough pressure to leave marks. He pushed you back until your shoulders hit the wall, lips moving down your jaw, then hot against your neck. His breaths were ragged, matching your own, and he was holding you as if letting go would mean losing control entirely. 

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as his mouth found a sensitive spot on the dip in your collarbone, his hands roaming possessively over your back, down your sides.

You pulled him back to your mouth, desperately needing that connection. 

When you finally broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours. You untied your mask and threw it across the room.

Fuck. he thought as his eyes widened, taking in your full facial features for the first time. You were even more beautiful than I imagined you to be. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself, I’m done for.

He was ready to throw you in jail cell. Instead, he ended up in your bed.

That night, in the dim light of your cheap hotel room, clothes were shed in hurried, frustrated movements, and all that pent-up tension finally found its release.

That first time had been desperate, raw. Both of you were driven by the need to let go, to feel something other than the weight of the cold blooded kills and the darkness you both carried.

Ever since then, every time you crossed paths, it was the same: adrenaline-fueled clashes and heated conversations about morality turned into hotel room rendezvous, hands grasping, lips colliding, both of you seeking the kind of solace you could only ever find in each other. 

—

You’d never admitted it out loud, but Bucky had an effect on you. When he was around, you found yourself hesitating just that split second longer before slicing your target’s arteries and leaving them to bleed.

You didn’t feel the need to wipe out every enemy anymore, and his disapproval of your methods had started haunting you in ways you’d never expected. Maybe that was why you’d started allowing him to find you more often, taking on jobs you knew he’d be there for. 

It was a dangerous game, but you kept playing it. He was obsessed with finding you, and you weren’t about to stop him.

He’d learned to read you better, your patterns, the places you tended to show up. By the time you landed in some city on the opposite end of the globe, he’d be there like clockwork, showing up right before you finished a job, confronting you before you could disappear into the night.

But the nights you spent together were… different. 

You never asked about each other’s pasts; you kept it in the here and now, keeping him at a safe distance even as you let him pull you under the covers time and again.

Every time he asked your real name, you’d smile and brush him off, deflecting his curiosity with a kiss or a teasing answer. He didn’t press, but you could see the questions in the way his brow furrowed, could feel the affection in the way he lingered in the mornings after, with a soft smile in his eyes that made your heart beat faster.

Each time, he told himself it was just catharsis, just a release of frustration for both of you, nothing more. But that excuse had worn thin over the years, and Bucky knew it as well as you did. 

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d look at him as he drifted to sleep next to you. Once, he caught a flicker of something vulnerable in your eyes before you put the walls back up. 

And God, was he drawn to you, to the side of you that fought so fiercely, that showed just enough vulnerability to keep him coming back. He was so fucking desperate to understand you better, to see more of the person underneath the mask.

—

One night, after a mission in Manila, you’d both ended up in a small, worn-down cheap hotel room overlooking the city lights. You were leaning against the headrest of the bed, a hint of sweat clinging to your skin, breathing still unsteady as you came down from the high you gave each other.

He watched you, his gaze lingering on the barely-perceptible rise and fall of your chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. There was a tremor in your tone, a flicker of something vulnerable that he wasn’t sure you meant for him to hear.

“Like what?” he asked, nuzzling closer to you. His now long hair was tied back in a low bun, your hair tie holding it together because he didn't have one of his own.

“Like you want something from me that I’m too broken to give,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. But he reached for you, tipping your chin up until you had no choice but to look at him, and there it was—that flicker of affection he knew ran just as deep in you as it did in him.

“Maybe I want it anyway,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. “You ever think of that?”

“This is just a release, James.” Your gaze softened for just a second, long enough for him to catch it before you shook your head, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s just something we both need.”

Even as you said it, you weren't convinced. He reached for you again, pulling you close, and kissed you because that was the only thing you’d let him do.

You melted into him once more, you found yourself wondering just how much longer you could keep him at arm’s length.

—

The shift in Bucky’s life had been as dramatic as it was unexpected. You’d never pegged him for politics—neither had he, to be fair—but here he was, representing his district, looking sharp in a suit that cost more than the last few hotels you’d met in combined. 

He’s upgraded. Freshly elected, polished up, all suited and respectable as a congressman, fighting for reform from a marble office by day and for justice in dark alleys by night. 

But tonight, with that half-smile he only gets with you, he’s still the same— still carrying that simmering tension in his lips, his hair tousled from a long night of pursuing you through the shadows. 

After a mission that had you both knee-deep in an abandoned bunker hunting a rogue assassin, you found yourself together once again. Only this time, the hotel he’d booked was far from cheap. 

He brought you to a five-star suite. The bed was massive, the sheets soft, and the view from the window sprawled out over the city skyline, a stark contrast to the dingy rooms you’d gotten used to. 

Now, lying beside him in the rumpled silk sheets, you watched him catch his breath. You moved off of his lap to lay next to him, euphoric from the guilty pleasure you both indulged in. 

“You know, the second someone finds out Congressman Barnes has a relationship with a violent vigilante, you’re out of office.”

He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Relationship?”

Fuck. He caught you slipping up. He caught you thinking about a relationship with him.

“Casual sex is still a relationship, James.” You shrugged, trying to save face. You turned to him, with a lazy, unconvinced smile, “Strings attached or not, it counts.”

He shifted, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched your wall break, even if only one brick at a time. “Casual,” His fingers traced idle patterns along your bare shoulder. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Unless you’re pretending you don’t want it anymore.” You paused, leaning closer, “Or maybe you just like that I could ruin everything. That I could say one word to the press, post one picture online and your reputation is finished. You’d be back to square one.”

He chuckled, his fingers grazing down your arm. It was terrifying, how comfortable he’d become with you. “I trust that you wouldn’t,” he said softly, voice laced with that steady confidence, like he knows you better than you know yourself.

His declaration hung in the air, and you felt guilt striking in your chest.

This wasn’t supposed to be part of this arrangement. Trust was for partners, for couples, for people who wanted things that lasted. 

You shook it off, leaning back, a little smirk tugging at your lips as you lifted a brow. “You’re right. I do have a soft spot for you, Congressman Barnes,” you added, the title rolling off your tongue with a touch of sarcasm, “Consider it my gift to democracy.”

He laughed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His hand drifted down to catch yours, holding it in a way that felt too natural, too comfortable for what you were supposed to be. 

You both knew, despite the banter and the invisible boundaries, this thing between you was already past casual. It was the reason he keeps showing up where you showed up, the reason you’re letting him into your life in ways you never let anyone before. You were both just too stubborn to say it.

He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a way that feels almost… affectionate. For a moment, you let yourself sink into it, forgetting the consequences, the danger, the fact that this man might just unravel you completely and you would have no say in it whatsoever.

When you pulled back, his fingers trailed over your bare waist. “Maybe it’s more than just a soft spot,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, heart beating out of your chest. “Let’s not get sentimental, James,” you brushed, letting your fingers graze his jaw as you murmured, “You’ve got an image to protect, after all.”

He lets out a sigh that’s part laughter, part frustration. He knew you were deflecting. “Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours again. 

“You and your image,” you chuckled, “Out there, shaking hands and making speeches about justice while you sneak off to hotel rooms with someone like me.”

He grinned, not a trace of shame in his expression as he turned his gaze back to you. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line. Even if it takes…” His voice lowered, dropping into that deep, teasing tone that made your stomach knot. “…a hands-on approach.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the last person who’d ever get me in line, James.” You leaned closer, though you didn't believe a single word you said. 

There was a long silence for a while. He eventually reached out, brushing a lock of hair back from your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek.

“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back.”

As the city lights cast a faint glow over the room, you lay there in silence, limbs tangled together in a way that felt a little less no strings attached every time.

—

The next time you meet, you were on a late-night operation on the dark outskirts of the city. You’ve tracked down a group of mercenaries. They’re as ruthless as they were careless, leaving a trail of devastation across the criminal underworld. But tonight, their recklessness will end with you. 

You moved through in silence, precise, methodical. One by one, you took them down, not killing, but incapacitating them. Your fists were quick, your strikes precise. It’s what you’ve done for years, a grim pattern of efficiency that never required a second blow. Just as you reached the man who hired them with your knife drawn—a local crime lord—you felt his presence before you saw him.

“Think twice, Sleeper,” Bucky said from behind you.

You froze, heart pounding as you stood over the crime lord begging for mercy. It would be so easy to end this now, but with Bucky watching, you hesitated.

You lowered the knife.

Instead of killing him, you tied him up alongside the other mercenaries, ignoring the questions in their fearful eyes. Bucky made a call, alerting local authorities to pick up the mess you’ve left behind.

“What now?” you asked, walking away from the carnage. You were expecting the usual pattern: another hotel room, a brief reprieve from the violence, nothing more. 

But he surprised you, lacing his hand in between your fingers, warm and secure. 

He had never, ever, showed affection outside closed doors.

“Come with me.” 

—

You didn’t expect Bucky to take you back to his place, but soon you were standing outside a sleek high-rise in the heart of the city. You followed him up to his penthouse apartment. It’s almost disorienting— the polished floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You found yourself standing in the quiet entryway of his home. The walls were painted in light, earthy tones, and the furniture was clean, modern, yet warm.

You glanced around, taking in the small details that hinted at Bucky's life beyond the missions. There were bookshelves lined with novels and memoirs, some old and looked like first editions, others barely touched. A few black-and-white photographs decorated the walls—New York City at dusk, a forest path, a beach sunset. It was an oddly peaceful place for a man like him. Certainly too peaceful for someone as broken as you.

“This is risky, James,” you said, looking up at him as he closed the door behind him, “Showing me where you live.”

“No, it's not,” he replied, his conviction absolute. “I trust you.”

There it was again. That word. Trust. The thing you never quite knew what to do with, especially coming from him.

You studied the way his favourite leather jacket was tossed on a chair, a half-read book by the couch. It felt like stepping across an invisible line. You set your mask down on the table before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

“This feels like crossing a boundary, James,” you admitted. You knew he should pull back, give you a chance to retreat. But you didn't want him to.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he cupped your face as he tilted your chin up gently. “What boundary?” he asked.

He knew that there were nothing separating you two. Not anymore.

The space between you vanished as his lips met yours. You kissed him back, losing yourself in the process of tasting him. His hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Kissing him felt like falling— like surrender.

You made your way to his bedroom, bodies tangled together, a blur of heated whispers and gasping breaths. Clothes fell away, discarded like old skin. The way he looked at you, it was like he was memorising every inch of you.

In that moment, you realised: the boundary had never been there. Not for him. Maybe not for you either.

—

The room was quiet as you lay tangled up in Bucky’s sheets. The duvet smelled like him, unlike the neutral, sterile scent of the usual hotel sheets. 

You’d never admit it, but it was intoxicating. 

The satisfied pulsing in your body had put a hazy filter over everything. 

Bucky smiled softly, kissing your forehead before reaching to his bedside drawer, pulling out a small glass box, placing it gently on your palm.

"Here," he murmured, almost shyly. He opened the box to reveal a hair tie inside. 

Oh. You recognised it. The ends were a bit frayed, the colour faded.

It was the hair tie you’d given him in Manila, a lifetime ago, a little piece of you that he’d tucked away in a corner of his home

You blinked, caught off guard. "You still have that?"

He shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. Was he… embarrassed? "I thought it was... worth keeping."

"Careful, James,” you couldn't help but tease him, nuzzling closer into his arms. “Keep this up and you might just start falling in love with me."

You felt his breath hitch.

He looked up, finally. Nervously.

Instead of denying it, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, warm whisper. "Would that be so bad?"

His fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver through your spine. Your heart fluttered irregularly, your head spinning in a daze as you tried to keep your thoughts down.

No.

You couldn’t let him see that he was getting to you like this, so you did what you always did: you deflected, grinning forcefully and rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, right," you said, brushing off the moment. As much as it broke your heart to deny the truth, you were doing it for his sake and yours. "I'm not that easy to love, James."

He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he pulled you closer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Maybe that's why I do." 

You shifted away from him, wrapping yourself in the sheets as if they could shield you from what he was offering — and from the ache in his gaze. 

"We can’t…" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "We can’t do this."

Bucky's eyes darkened, but he would be alright. He expected this from you.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect himself. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his desire for you and something else… there was something bigger. 

"I need to tell you something," he said quietly. “I have… a team.”

That caught you off guard. 

Bucky? On a team? He’d always seemed like a lone wolf, just like you. 

“There’s a couple of former Widows, who you’d get along with. Two other super soldiers. And someone who can… phase. Quantum experiment gone wrong.” He paused, “We’re trying to make something real here. And it’s missing someone.” His fingers trailed down your forearm, eventually clasping your palm in his, “It’s missing you.”

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, trailing your jawline delicately with his metal hand, “I need you.”

The invitation went unanswered for a moment. You swallowed, caught off-guard by how badly he seemed to want this, how he wanted you to be part of it.

“I work alone, James,” you said, brushing off the offer with a small, bitter smile. “You know that.”

“But why not?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why won’t you let someone else in for once?”

The frustration in his tone was raw, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of pain flash across his face from this rejection.

“This is your chance to do something good the right way,” he pressed, and there was a quiet urgency in his voice. “No more hunting down bad guys with no direction. No more living like you’ve got nothing left to lose.”

His words sank in, and your walls felt shakier than ever. The idea of leaving the past behind, of actually building something… you hadn’t let yourself imagine it in years.

“Just think about it,” he said softly, placing his forehead on yours. “You don't have to decide now. Just… consider it.”

You gave a noncommittal shrug, but the truth was that his offer echoed in your mind, louder than you wanted to admit. He smiled at your dismissiveness, recognizing the crack in your armour. He didn’t push further. 

You realised that for the first time in a long time, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to say no.

—

The next time you saw Bucky was in the middle of a mission neither of you had wanted. 

Just a week had passed since you’d spent the night in his apartment. Since then, you had told yourself you shouldn’t return. You couldn’t. You were getting too close, feeling too much.

It was getting dangerous.

But then Bucky had reached out to you, voice tight and desperate, the kind of desperation that stripped away all his pride. It was a vulnerability even you hadn't seen from him before. His team was in over their heads, he’d said. He needed you. 

You’d agreed to help, but you’d been careful to remind him that this was a one-time thing. One mission, and that was it.

But then everything went wrong.

It happened so fast, you barely understood how everything had gone wrong. 

You were with Bucky, fighting side-by-side, the two of you moving as if connected by some invisible thread. 

You had taken a blow, separating you from everyone else. You tried standing up but fuck! The impact had shattered your ankle, sending a searing pain through your leg. Your nerves were on fire in a way they had never been before.

You couldn't move. 

You couldn't get up. Couldn’t run.

And then the ground shifted, an explosion roared from behind, and the next thing you knew, a van was thrown across the road, hurtling straight toward you.

For a single, frozen heartbeat, you realised this was it. 

It was over.

You saw the faces of bystanders staring from the sidewalk, their eyes wide, too horrified to look away. You let go of the cold steel of your knife still gripped in your hand. The acrid taste of smoke on your tongue intensified. And the truck—a wall of twisted metal hurtling closer, closer, impossibly fast.

You’d spent so many years brushing so close to death that you always thought you’d be ready.

But now, all you felt was regret.

Regret that this was how you’d die: in the middle of a cold, empty street, surrounded by strangers who would never remember you, never know who you were or what you’d done. 

Alone. 

You thought of Bucky in those last seconds—his quiet smiles, the way he’d look at you like he could see through every wall you put up, the silent crutch he’d offered without expecting anything in return. Bucky, who’d trusted you, who’d somehow cared for you even after everything you’d done. 

For the first time, you felt regret for every life you’d taken, every person you’d left to die in your wake.

Your life had been nothing but survival and bloodshed. You had told yourself it was necessary, that it was the only way. But here, now, with your own death inches away, it all felt hollow.

You’d given up hope, abandoned the idea of redemption long ago—because you were too broken.

And yet, with Bucky, something had changed. He had looked at you and somehow seen past it all. He’d made you feel as if maybe, just maybe, you were something more than the ghost you’d become. Maybe, instead of running, you could have found a way to fight for something real, something that mattered. 

Maybe you could have been someone better. 

You would never know now.

The world narrowed, and you braced yourself for the inevitable, hoping it would be quick and painless. Your fingers tightened, clinging to the memory of him in those last, precious seconds as you waited to feel the impact—

But it never came.

Instead, there was a rush of air, a deafening crash, and then—silence. You blinked, dazed, your heart still hammering, and when you looked up, Bucky was standing there, his metal arm outstretched, braced against the van that he’d deflected away.

He turned to face you, his expression raw, worry carved deep into his features as he scanned you, checking for injuries. For a moment, he just stared, his breathing uneven, as if he’d been the one facing certain death.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice panicked.

You tried to answer, but the words tangled, caught in your throat. You managed a nod, barely able to process what had just happened. 

“Shit,” he kneeled next to you, “Is your ankle broken, can you walk?”

You stared at him, trembling as he tore a part of his shirt and wrapped it around your injury for support.

Bucky had saved you. He had thrown himself in front of a hurtling vehicle without a moment of hesitation, as if your life were worth that sacrifice. 

He had saved you.

You were alive because of him.

Alive, when you’d already accepted that you were going to die alone.

No one had ever done that for you. No one had ever saved you—not like this, not without asking anything in return. Hell, you never thought that you deserved to be saved.

“You’re okay, Sleeper,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I’m here.”

His words settled into the cracks that had broken open inside you, filling them in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t realised how empty you’d felt until now, how long you’d carried the weight of loneliness, of believing that this life—this endless, solitary fight—was all you deserved. 

Bucky made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be alone. That maybe, even after all you’d done, there was a place for you outside the shadows.

“Don’t call me that,” your voice trembled, “I don’t want you to call me Sleeper anymore.”

Bucky stopped for a second, confused. “What do you want me to call you, then?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Something inside you broke, raw and vulnerable, and the name you’d hidden for years slipped from your lips before you even realised it. Your real name—your last, fragile piece of self you’d kept locked away, hoping one day you’d be able to reclaim it. 

It felt right with Bucky, like you could trust him with it, like you could let yourself be seen.

Bucky’s eyes widened, his face softening as he repeated it, almost reverent, like he wanted to remember how it felt to say it. 

Hearing him say your name, like a prayer, like it was sacred, like it mattered— tore down whatever walls you had left. He’d given you something you didn’t know you could have: the feeling of belonging to yourself again. The feeling of belonging to the world again.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers shaking. He moved, pulling you closer. His touch was grounding, steady—a lifeline that anchored you to the moment, to this fragile reality where you didn’t have to be alone anymore. 

You pressed your lips to his, but this kiss was different— it wasn't casual or sexual as it has always been. This time, it was gentle, carrying something other than desire, something precious and fragile. 

Something worth nurturing.

When you finally pulled away, he looked at you lovingly. 

“I’ll join you,” you said, the words coming from some deep part of you that had been waiting for someone to give you this chance, this choice.

Now you realised that this choice was yours all along. All you had to do was take it.

And you did, because maybe, instead of running from yourself, you could find a way to make things right. Maybe you could fight for something greater than yourself.

For the first time, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace, you believed that maybe you could be someone worth saving.

—

A month later, you were all gathered around a small campfire, tucked away in a quiet corner of nowhere. 

The night was cool, the fire warm, and laughter bubbled up from the group as you shared bits and pieces of each other's lives. 

“Team bonding,” John had said.

John passed around a nearly empty bag of marshmallows, Alexei poked at the fire, and Yelena and Ava exchanged eye rolls at everyone else’s antics, though they leaned closer together under the same blanket.

Eventually, the conversation drifted, as it often did, to you and Bucky. 

“So… how did the Winter Soldier and Sleeper even meet?” Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow as she threw another marshmallow into her mouth. 

The moniker you had adopted still twisted in your stomach every time you heard it, but it had lost its edge. This time, you felt in control. Like you owned it.

"I have theories,” Alexei nodded, crossing his arms, “but I have to know."

You shared a look with Bucky, a small smile creeping on both your faces. “There was a Hydra agent we were both after.” you began, biting back a frown. “And… well, I was angrier back then.” 

He placed his arm on yours, a comforting gesture.

“You wanted him alive,” you said. “I had… different ideas.”

“After that—” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “—She was all I could think about. I kept showing up wherever she was, trying to figure her out.” 

“So basically,” John said, trying to hold back a laugh, “Bucky is a bit of a stalker.”

“A stalker?” Bucky echoed incredulously, “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘dedicated.’” 

“No, no,” Ava interjected, “you followed her everywhere did you not? ‘Stalker’ is the right word, Barnes.”

“Fine,” he admitted jokingly, “But what can I say? It was love at first sight.” 

Yelena gagged theatrically and John clutched his stomach in a fit of laughter.

Alexei just chuckled and muttered something about “American romance.” Ava made a face, disgusted but secretly amused.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you with a quiet smile.

In some way, this still felt too good to be real.

For the first time, you realized you’d found exactly what you’d been missing all along. A home. Maybe even the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.

A place where you belonged.

And you knew, looking at all of them—especially at Bucky—that this was just the beginning.

-end

[14thgalerie]

dreamin' of him

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey

• word count: 5.7k

• genre: fluff

— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.

You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.

You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.

It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–

No. Y/N, stop it.

You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.

Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.

How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?

It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.

With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.

“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”

You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.

Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.

Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers. 

Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.

Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock. 

Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.

This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.  

“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.” 

“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms. 

“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”

Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”

Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry. 

“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you. 

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.

“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?” 

“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.

“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”

Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”

You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.” 

You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.

From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.

“Nott.” You warn.

“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”

“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.

“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”

Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.

“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.

Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation. 

 It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.

Not that you found it all disappointing. 

There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.

But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.

He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.

He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.

“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up. 

He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.

“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”

“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”

He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.

“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”

Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”

Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”

Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.  

“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.

“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table. 

“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”

“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.

“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”

“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”

You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”

“Just come with me, will you?” 

“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”

Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.

Well… somewhat.

“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”

“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.

“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.

You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”

“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face. 

“Y/N?”

And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.

He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion. 

“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.

“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”

He hums, nodding as he thought about it.

“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”

The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way. 

“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”

The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.

Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”

“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 

“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”

“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.

“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”

Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.

“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”

“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.

Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.

While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.

You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.

“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body. 

The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.

It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.

“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”

You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”

You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise. 

You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone. 

His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.

On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods. 

“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes. 

“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face. 

“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”

“Uh- What?”

“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.

“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”

Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.

“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.

“What?”

“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”

That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.

“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.

But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.

“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.

You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”

“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”

You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.

No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.

You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.” 

Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.

With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity. 

“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?” 

Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”

Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest.  “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends. 

“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.

Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.

Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.

 You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."

You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"

Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."

Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”

“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.” 

"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice. 

Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.

You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed. 

“Don’t.” You warn.

He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.

“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.

“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.

"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."

You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"

He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.

“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.

A different kind of tension. 

Not one that you would like to be a part of.

“Well, that would be the last of it.” 

Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.

His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”

When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.

Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.

“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.” 

“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air. 

He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now. 

“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”

You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already. 

 “And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”

“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.

“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”

“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.

“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.” 

“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.

“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.  

A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”

Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.

The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.

You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.

Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.

So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch. 

He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.

You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.

You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.

This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.

“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.

Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”

“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”

“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”

“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”  

“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.” 

"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."

“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”

His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.

masterlist

[mncxbe]

EYES DON'T LIE

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒂/𝒏: the new chapter hello?? i loved it so much. tbh i never know how to write fyodor but oof i just had to. anyway, hope you like it. cw: mild angst, fyodor being a softie, bsd spoilers

It's been weeks since you last saw those deep, violet eyes, weeks since Fyodor was taken, once again, to a far away place. was he back in Russia again? or maybe he was still in Japan, hiding in one of his safehouses, or maybe this time he was actually dead. he never told you anything before leaving, so you're left wondering and during those cold, sleepless nights that's all you have: your haunting thoughts.

despite your worry, you miss him dearly. you miss threading your fingers through his raven hair at night, listening to him talk about little nothings– his cold fingertips tracing patterns on your skin. "you know i love you, right?" you'd ask and he'd smile, ruffling your hair. "i know, myshka. and i do too" if he knows you love him, why does he always leave you behind like this?

worry consumes you, your mind firing images of his body laying in some makeshift grave at the side of the road, of Nikolai showing up at your doorstep, telling you that your lover wasn't coming back. you try your best to push these thoughts away, to lock them somewhere in an imaginary drawer in the back of your mind but they keep coming back. especially at night

fighting back tears, you roll over to the side and gaze out the window, searching for a distraction, but the painfully empty side of the bed next to you serves as a cruel reminder of your predicament. you turn to the other side, pulling your knees up to your chest and reaching for the pillow that served as his replacement during the past few weeks. the material feels soft against your skin as you bury your face in it and inhale deeply. there's only a faint trace of his scent left, but it's enough to bring back all the memories you have together, so you hug the pillow closer to your chest, holding onto it as if it's your lifeline and you cry and cry and cry.

you don't even realize that you fell asleep until the sound of your bedroom door sliding open wakes you from your slumber. you stir, propping yourself up on your elbow as your eyes flutter open. it's hard to see anything through the darkness of the room, but you manage to make out the contour of a person at your doorstep. "um... hello?" you ask warily, shifting closer to the edge of the mattress. but all your worries slip away when you recognize the voice of the man before you.

"that's an awful reaction to waking up to a man inside your room, myshka" the person muses, stepping into the sliver of light that seeped inside the bedroom through the window. despite your hazy vision, you can make out some of the man's features– the thin line of his lips, the arch of his brow and those piercing violet eyes you'd recognize in a thousand lives. Fyodor, he's back.

"fedya..." you say weakly, too stunned by his sudden appearance to muster up anything else. for a moment, it occured to you that you were dreaming, but the pressure in your skull and the stinging feeling in the back of your throat serve as proof that you're wide awake. you watch him slowly making his way towards the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sits next to you.

with a deft hand, Fyodor brushes the stray strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. "i missed you, my love" he smiles and you know the voice belongs to him but you have the feeling something changed.

his touch feels strange, foreign, his fingers are more calloused and he seems... taller? the clothes he's wearing are different too but they somehow fit him perfectly. a cold shiver runs down your spin and you feign away from his touch, clutching the duvet.

a twinge of pain flashes across Fyodor's features at your reaction. of course, you didn't know yet. he never confided in you about his ability. still, he hoped that you'd simply be happy to see him. "myshka..." he sighs, reaching for your hand and giving it a light, reassuring squeeze "it's me"

you're left dumbfounded by his words. how can it be him? that's not his body, not his scent, not his touch. "but... how?" you ask in that same strained voice and Fyodor's heart sinks. you're hurting, he can tell, you need time to adjust to this new discovery but he wasn't going to give that to you. he's been away for far too long and he was too selfish of a man to deny himself your comfort.

"my dear, i want you to trust me. i'll tell you everything tomorrow, but let's just rest tonight" he reassures you, discarding his black cloak on the floor before joining you in bed, his arms wrapping around your waist. you try to scoot away from his foreign embrace but he doesn't let you, shushing you with a chaste kiss to your temple. "don't run away from me. we've been apart for too long" he pleads and you comply, despite the nagging feeling of uncertainty.

your drowsiness is long gone now and you simply lay in his arms, trying to understand what's going on. your heart is telling you that this is Fyodor, but your rational mind has a hard time piecing together the puzzle. this body doesn't belong to him– he feels different, but it's somehow still him.

he's always warned you that you'll go through some weird things if you date him, but this certainly isn't something you expected. still, you're too worn out by countless sleepless nights and worries to think about this now, so you close your eyes, relaxing your body and mind.

as time passes, you ease into his embrace, finding solace in his closeness. in the dark of the night, you are once again listening to his velvety voice. he whispers apologies and i love you s, his hands carefully caressing your body and you're more and more convinced that it's truly him. if you think about it, though justified, your initial aversion was silly.

so what if he has a different body? it's still your Fyodor. you trust that he'll tell you everything tomorrow and you'll finally be able to put those agonizing weeks behind and go back to your life together. alas, hope. good days are about to come.

[ordowrites]

been dealing with insomnia so...

cw: suggestive themes, mostly fluff. mdni, minors dni. establisher relationships. gn! reader, no pronouns used!

chars: diluc, kaeya, arlecchino, wanderer & how they each deal with their beloved struggling with insomnia

diluc would be worried at first - you not sleeping, he blames himself for. after all, he causes you undue stress with his time as the dark knight hero and all his secrets. he is more than happy to keep you company on these long nights until you do drift to sleep.

("my beloved, it is late. are you alright?" "yes, just...stay with me awhile, diluc. just for a bit." "of course, my flame." anxieties eased, his warmth is a blessing. for a moment, you think he'll finally stay home for you.)

kaeya understands sleepless nights. he understands that sometimes, the shadows whisper of words from so long ago that they haunt even now. you look as tired as he feels. And normally, he has a quip, a thought but it dies on his lips as he sits next to you. perhaps another presence to soothe anxiety can help you these nights.

("i'll be right here for you, my dove." it's a promise, a vow. a soft kiss. you are never alone with the man who understands isolation.)

arlecchino is used the children not sleeping. they are young and staying up late is normal. but you are not a child and you have spent how many days awake, pacing and disoriented from no sleep. this won't do. so, as if you were a child, she'll pull you into bed next to her, and rub your back and tell you stories. the alternative would be no fun, after all. and you seem content to listen, even if you don't really fall asleep.

("i suppose i could tell you fairy tales." "...no thank you." "fine. i shall update you ln the children." a peek into her life is distracting from your own stressful one and you're sure she loves talking about the Hearth. As you rest against her, she wraps her arm around you)

wanderer in his immortal and perfect life understands the boredom of sleeplessness. times passage moves ever slower as the world quiets down. it's his favorite time but you are a human, not a create of immaculate perfection. so, he keeps you company - helps pass these frustrating nights and shows you a side of him nobody else is privy too. it's just you, him, and the stars as your witness.

("well i guess we can stay up here and stare at the stars. look, a shooting star. make a wish." "do you believe in those?" "...sure. what'd you wish for?" "can't tell you or it won't come true." "...how annoying." and for a moment, his hand touches yours.)

[eetherealgoddess]

can you one with mikey where he is deeply in love with reader but she is oblivious and one night his dark impulses take control of him and he fucks he in her sleep??? love your content btww

thank you!! hope this turned out the way you wanted!! <3

ꨄTemptationꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Mikey Au

❦You didn’t know how tempting you were to those dark eyes❦

Sano Manjiro x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Temptation

The moonlight gleams through the cracked curtains, shining over the bed as a figure lies underneath the white comforter. You slumber, snug and warm as you lie on your stomach, one leg lifted as well as both of your arms though with bent elbows. Your other leg is planted straight down as your cheek meets the pillow. Light snoring echoed throughout the room as well as steady breathy. You were oblivious to the eyes gazing over your limp frame. He’s kneeled on the floor as his head lies on top of the arms that are crossed on the mattress in front of your face. His blonde strands hovering over his face, disheveled from his lack of care considering his sleepless nights.

Ever since he found a way to break into your room despite you still living at home, he hasn’t been able to keep himself away. He likes to visit you at night. It helps with easing the dark thoughts he succumbs to when he tries to fall asleep. His past haunts him, entrapping his mind with nothing but dark whispers of various impulses. The intrusive thoughts sneak up on him as a snake would before snapping the venom in their prey, trailed by the shadows of darkness looming over his back and reminding him that all he is meant to experience is suffering.

Ironically, sneaking into your room at night gives him a sense of normality. He can’t help but to live in the moment once you’re in the picture. A sane person wouldn’t think twice of you, having accidentally bumped into one another which resulted in you apologizing before running off. It didn’t make sense why he decided to follow you the rest of the day or command one of his gang members to search for more information about you. It doesn’t make sense why there isn’t a day he goes without thinking of you.

Maybe it was the sense of normalcy or distraction from his inner world. Maybe it was the qualities you had as a person that he found interesting after looking into you. The fact is that he is mesmerized by you. It’s been months since you first met, the accidental shove forever leaving a ghostly tingling sensation on his arm. He sits up for a moment, resting his elbows against the bed as both of his hands tangle through his hair, holding up his head as he eyes you with a half lidded gaze.

After a moment he stood up before slowly pulling the cover back, deciding to see more of you to get his fill. He gazed at your body that only consisted of a t-shirt and shorts. He loved to see the fabric of your bottoms wrapped tightly around your curves which is why his favorite nights are when you have them on.

He figured out that your sleeping habits vary. Sometimes he’d get there and you were in the middle of changing, scrolling through your phone, or… sometimes even catching you in the middle of a session with your sex toy. The tree next to your window and the space in your walk-in closet as well as the placement of your bed from across made those specific nights a lot easier to observe.

He uses a hand to caress your back gently before slightly lifting your shirt to reveal the skin on your lower back. His palm rubbed along the crease in which your derrière and back meet, squeezing your side before continuing his strokes, staring at your face cautiously. He bit his lip as he squeezed you once more, firmly as he watched your nose scrunch. He released your skin as he felt a tightness form in his pants.

It wasn’t his first time gaining an erection simply from gazing or touching you. In fact, there have been times he had rubbed his tense cock in your closet as you were watching porn, both of you orgasming together as he edged himself until you were ready for release. He’s used your clothes as towels and stole them. He’s also jerked off sitting right in front of you as you sleep on the bed, imagining all the different ways he can have his way with you.

The way your legs tense when the toy hits that spot that sends you into convulsion, your moans filling the air as well as the curses as you grind out your orgasm. Sometimes you’ll even repeat your sessions back to back, in search of the relief he wants to provide for you. He palmed his bulge as he reminisced those favorable moments. He looks down and gazes at his own hard on, his hair hovering over his face with his lips slightly parted as a red hue forms on his cheeks.

“Shit.” He whispered, feeling the overwhelming urge to climb on top of you. He just wanted to take a look at your wet pussy again. Leaning over to where he uses a hand to slide the leg nearest to open to gain a better viewpoint of your covered vagina. The tight shorts caused an imprint to outline the frame of your center. He glanced at you before gently connecting his fingers with your pussy, rubbing over the slit. He watched you as his middle finger moved to where your clit is hidden under the shorts, applying a still pressure to test the waters. Your hips twitched as you slightly readjusted but your eyelids stayed shut.

His fingers slid until he reached in between your ass cheeks, grazing over your covered anus before removing his hand all together. His torso bends over, crawling until he climbs over your legs. His hands connect with your shorts before he slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked bottom half as he tossed them to the side. He scoots to a better position over your legs and cupped both of your butt cheeks, squeezing and using his thumbs to caress the skin before spreading your labia with his fingers still planted on your ass.

He glanced at you to see your sleeping figure once more before he released you and shoved a hand into his pants. He lowers the lining of his underwear before pulling his cock from his pants. Deciding to ease some of the tension, he positions himself closer to your ass, using a hand to spread a cheek before pressing his cock in a downward position to where he could feel his head against your warm pussy.

He released a quiet grunt before lowering his torso on yours, basically hugging you as he eased his arms under yours, pressing his hips against you as he held it there. He thought he would have enough self control to not go all the way in since he just needed to feel you. It felt so good to feel your body against his, soft and warm. As time went on it was beginning to feel a little too good. He pressed down his hips before pulling back and repeating the same motion slowly in an attempt to not wake you up. He pants as the feeling becomes too hard to handle.

Deciding to just use the head of his cock, he licks his hand before lathering up his girth and using his fingers to position himself to your already wet vagina. He pushes forward slowly, your labia popping open wider as his tip stretches your hole. He accidentally released a moan as his head dropped, arms slightly shaking as they balanced himself over your figure.

“Oh fuck.” He hissed as he pushed in just a smidge more of a distance than before, stopping himself before he continued. It already feels like your pussy is sucking him in, the walls tightening the part of him already inside of you.

“So warm.” He groaned as he sat up more, breathing heavily with his lips apart as his head fell back. You slightly squirm against him as you attempt to reposition yourself, your leg that was bent moving down to where your feet are parallel. You wince as you take a deep breath before the slumber takes over once more.

He’s had to wait so long for this. He was having a hard time thinking rationally as all he wanted to do was shove his cock inside of you as deep as possible before forcing you to take all his cum. His hands reach the skin of your back under the shirt. His hips twitch back before he pushes back in, only his tip immersed in your walls. He can feel your pussy releasing more juice from the stimulation. Everything felt so hot.

He couldn’t take it anymore, lowering his upper body as he repositioned one of his arms under you and the other hand covering your mouth, lifting your head slightly. Your eyes finally flutter open into a squint, only just coming back to reality as you feel a heavy weight above you as well as a pressure from below.

“Forgive me, Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the low whisper before the hand tightens around your mouth and someone leaves a kiss on the back of your head before you feel a sharp pain in your core, causing a muffled grunt to leave your mouth as Mikey’s hips lock against yours in a swift motion.

He moaned when his hips smacked against your ass. You whimper at the pain as you attempt to push against the bed in an attempt to throw him off of you. You failed miserably, not even being able to move from your position because of his immense strength overpowering you from atop. You couldn’t even turn your head to see who the culprit is forcing themselves upon you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grunt loud from another hard impact from his thick cock.

“G-get off of me!” You attempt to scream but his hand only muffled your speech. Both of your bodies rock as he gains rhythm, his hair flailing as he grinds against you.

“Shhh.” He nibbles on your ear as he makes an attempt to quiet his own moans, not wanting to risk your parents walking in though if it happened, he wouldn’t have a problem with ridding himself of the inconvenience of their presence.

“M’ gonna find it and make you feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He says in your ear, forcing his fast strokes in deeper as he searches for the spot that has you quivering when he watches. Your nails impale the sheets as your grip tightens, the pain having resided once he found the spot, a moan escaping your lips.

“There it is.” He smirks before pressing his head against yours and closing his eyes. He continuously aimed to kiss your cervix as his head dropped to your neck, his lips connecting with the skin before he thrusts harder, rutting against you as he humps your backside. His cock is suffocated by the warm gummy walls inside of you, your juice lathering him as a natural lube as you reflexively push your ass against him, meeting his thrusts as your nipples harden against the bed.

“Th-this isn’t right!” You try to speak once more, struggling to push yourself off the bed as he adds more weight to your form, cock rubbing along your inner lining as your g-spot is assaulted. “I don’t even know you!”

“The only thing…” he breathes, “…that matters is my lo…” He pants as his eyebrows furrow before the smacking of his hips against your body becomes louder as he brings you both closer to your orgasms, his tip beating hard against your g-spot. You release a loud grunt followed by a moan as your hips move against him desperately.

“Ah fuck, baby this feels so good.” He hissed before his lips fell apart. Lowering his head, he rests it against your shoulder as he fucks into you with firm yet fast strokes. You bite your lip as your eyes shut tight, your hips bucking as you release a desperate moan, a wave of pleasure engulfing your abdomen as you orgasm on the stranger’s thick cock.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispers before his grip on your face and shoulder tighten, his hips rocking as he thrusts out his orgasm. You both pant as you catch your breath, his cock still inside of you before he slowly pulls his hips back causing a grunt to leave you both. You feel him kiss your shoulder and neck as your eyes widen in horror at the realization of your circumstances as he releases your mouth.

“W-who are you?! Y-you j-just…” You try to turn around to get a look of him but he only pressed your head against the pillow.

“When we get to know each other better, I’ll explain. For now, just know that you’re my wifey, okay?” He smiled, ignoring the look of confusion and fear that appeared on your expression.

“I-I don’t even know you! HE-!” He covers your mouth once more and leaned to your ear.

“I don’t want to kill your parents, Y/n. So don’t make me, okay? I’d like to meet your family properly.” Tears stream down your face as he tells you to close your eyes. You comply, shutting them tight as you feel his weight shift before completely disappearing.

“See ya next time.”

tbh i liked the request but idk if i liked how i wrote it

[vidals-harkness]

don't wanna leave you anymore (agatha harkness)

summary : wanda stole your powers too, three years ago. while it was a curse for agatha, it was a boon for you. as a divination witch with powerful clairvoyance, it wasn't uncommon for you to be troubled by spirits. so nothing can make you change this mundane life you adopted. so what happens when she attempts to convince you to have another shot at the road?

fic type: fluff

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader

warnings: fight, little angst, mostly fluff.

word count: 1k

masterlist

The Witch’s Road wasn’t one for the faint of heart. It tested one’s knowledge of the craft, tested one’s limits, and one’s determination to succeed.

However, that success came at a price. A price you and Agatha had both paid with your own journeys. She wanted it again, but you, on the other hand, did not.

Where a normal evening would be spent with each other, drinking wine and watching a trashy movie, today it was filled with arguments, aggravation, and anger.

“My darling, don’t you miss it?!” She exclaimed, looking at you desperately, her past attempts at convincing you having failed miserably.

Her voice took on that sultry, persuasive tone which could cause even the purest saint to sin, as she chose her words carefully.

“Aren’t you angry? That Wanda stole your power? Don’t you miss the feeling of being almost as powerful as a goddess? Don’t you miss the fear we instilled, the feeling of the magic coursing through your veins? Having the knowledge that you had the ability to bend the universe to your will?” She came a step closer, hoping her words were having effect.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, a whisper so close to your ear that you felt her warm breath fan across your skin. “Don’t you want it back?”

"No, Agatha, I truly don't," you said, shaking your head. "I do not want it back, because I do not want sleepless nights, nonsensical visions, and terrifying spirits haunting my every waking and sleeping moment,"

With a thoughtful sigh as you gazed out the window, you shook your head again after a moment of contemplation. "I can't do it, Agatha. I won't,"

Agatha's eyes flared at your response, her hands clenching into fists in frustration. The room's tension was palpable, and you could practically feel the waves of anger and desperation rolling off her in waves.

“My sweet little seer,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone as she came to stand in front of you, blocking your view. Her hands grabbed at your arms, pulling you away from the window, and closer to her.

“Are you really going to live the rest of your life as a simple, mundane?” She hissed.

“Yes, Agatha. Yes, I am going to be mundane,” you scowled, not meeting her eyes. “I’d rather be mundane than go through hundreds of sleepless nights and ghosts at every corner screaming in my head,”

“You're foolish then,” Agatha stated, frustration lacing her every word. She released your arms only to grab your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Do you know how naive you sound, my love?” She continued, her voice lowered to a dangerously soft whisper. “You don’t realise what power you had.” Her eyes searched yours, a irritation palpable in her gaze and words.

“I am not naïve! I’m looking out for myself,” you said, breath trembling. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t go back to that, Aggie. Please, please don’t make me choose,”

Her thoughts whirled in her head, a back and forth of pros and cons, a hurricane of emotion, a sea of varied desires. On one hand, she craved her purple to return, but on the other...she remembered the screams that ripped your throat each time the lights went off, the way you cast your eyes downward whenever going past a cemetery, the way you tossed and turned each night, unable to get some peace and quiet in your mind.

For others it wouldn't have been this hard to choose. But for her it was a matter of choosing between two of the most important things in her life: witchcraft, and you.

Witchcraft was her soul, body, mind. It was the thing which coursed through her veins, the thing that made her feel like a goddess, the thing which made her a witch.

But you were the very blood in her veins that the witchcraft was a part of, you were the one who held her so nice and kissed her so sweet. You were the very thing that made her heart beat, the only thing which kept her from spiralling into madness.

"Why is it so hard for you to choose?" You asked, quietly. "Do I...Do I not matter to you so much that you have to wait to choose?"

You stepped closer, eyes blazing. "I always have chosen you. But you? You speak only for yourself, you do everything so it benefits you, never me. Think, how would this affect me? Or do you even care that I, when I had powers, endured much more than you could ever do in your lifetime in a single day? No!"

Her heart broke, the scales tipped. She knew what she wanted--to make you happy. Power-hungry and vengeful as she was, if there was one thing Agatha Harkness couldn't do, it was let you slip down her priority list.

She paused and spoke in a voice so quiet, you barely heard her. "You don't need to come to the road," she whispered. "I don't want you going through that again,"

You felt your heart get lighter. She cared for you, always. You came first.

In an instant, you had pulled the older woman in for a hug, smiling. "Thank you," you said, kissing her cheek. "Thank you for understanding,"

She held your face in her hands, taking a good long look at you. Oh, your eyes were so beautiful. Beautiful like the dawn, like the ocean when the light is just right, like the smell of petrichor, like the moon and the planets. You were so beautiful.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You don't have to come, I promise,"

You smiled, looking up at her. Where her face was all angles and sharpness, her heart beat in one rhythm. For you.

"I love you, Agatha," you smiled, hugging her close.

"And I, you," she whispered, running a hand through your soft hair as she hugged back.

She was going to go on this journey, and it would be easier now that she knew you had her back.

And that's all that mattered.

Hi hi, bao buns! First imagne is okay, but I'm happy to take requests! Love you all!

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten

In which an unfortunate turn of events leads to Azriel forgetting his very pregnant mate.

Words: 2541

A/N - Hi everyone, this is my first foray into publishing work online and like everyone else I am preparing for CC3 by re-reading all of SJM's work. I've been inspired by all the lovely Azriel/Reader pieces I've seen on tumblr as of late and have decided to contribute my own.

Part Two ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Heavy waves of unconsciousness threatened to drag Azriel further, deeper into the abyss. The roaring in his ears drowned out rational thought. Tongue dragging against the roof of his dry mouth he reached out for something to anchor him, carting his hands through silk sheets. His skin burned.

“Azriel?” Elain’s sweet voice floated through the darkness. Azriel fought against the fatigue to open his eyes. The brightness strained and he tried to focus. Light filtered through the window, highlighting beautiful features and the golden hues of her hair. She leaned forward, taking a pitcher of water from the bedside table to fill a glass, holding it up to his lips so he could drink. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth in gratitude and he worked his dry lips around the rim. One hand came up to support the glass, holding it over Elain’s own, an excuse to feel her smooth sun-kissed skin.

He hadn’t seen her since the disaster of the almost kiss and his words, ‘this was a mistake’, had haunted him endlessly in his sleepless nights. The regret hadn’t stopped the images that plagued him. How she would look underneath him, or riding him, the faces she’d make as he brought her pleasure, the sweet songs she’d sing for him as she climaxed. Even Rhy’s warning hadn’t been able to tame the desire he felt for the middle Archeron sister; in his half delirious state he was content to take advantage of the closeness the opportunity offered. His eyes roamed her face, following the tantalizingly exposed skin of her neck down to where the bust of her pale pink gown hid her breasts from his view.

Satiated, he pulled his head away and managed to croak out a small word of thanks. Elain’s brows furrowed as she searched his face for something, finding it lacking.

“We’ve all been so worried about you.” Azriel frowned, finding it difficult to care about anything other than admiring her beauty in the light provided by the rising sun. He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and traced the delicate bones of her wrist under his fingers where his large hand still dwarfed hers. She pulled back, placing the glass on the bedside table and he felt words of protest trying to break free. Come back he thought, his appetite to feel more of her supple skin under his own ignited.

Contentment rose in him as she leaned closer once more, this time placing the back of her hand against his forehead. Perspiration clung between their skin; Azriel resisted closing his eyes and basking in the warmth erupting in his chest. Memories of his mother flooded back, in a daze he felt himself being carried through the few times in his childhood when she’d been able to care for him as he had yearned for. This position brought Elain even closer to him, affording him a delightful view of what lay beneath the top of her dress with a downward cast of his eyes. He soaked in where the tan from her time in the gardens morphed into untouched alabaster and ruminated on how it would taste under his tongue.

“You’re still burning up, I’ll send for Madja.”

“No,” he reached to grasp her hand as she pulled back. “Stay.”

 Elain worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she fixed her rich chestnut eyes on his face. Azriel couldn’t draw his gaze away from how the baby-soft skin looked trapped under her incisor, imagining how it would feel under his own. He watched as her eyes lost focus, she seemed to stare straight through him. He knew the look; could recognise the blankness imposed by communicating with daemati. Which meant that Rhys would be coming soon.

He sighed, perturbed by the impending interruption. He reached for his shadows, hoping that they would at least give him some advanced warning but found them missing. Frowning he tried to sit forward, tearing his eyes from Elain’s face he scanned the room. His room, at the House of Wind. All the times he'd dreamed of her in here with him, what they would do, he'd never quite imagined it like this.

“What happened?” He still clutched at Elain’s hand but lowered it to rest against his thighs. His chest was exposed, naked and flushed with fever. The muscles in his wings protested as he moved to unfurl them slightly and he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. Such a small motion, but it brought the catalogue of pain to the forefront of his mind through the haze.

The dark silk sheets pooled at his waist and rubbed against the stark whiteness of clean cotton bandages. He could feel where the membranes connecting the sinewy muscle and delicate bones of his wings pulled tighter in places over almost healed wounds. The room smelt of antiseptic; underneath his own scent was stale as though he hadn’t stayed there in a long time.

“I don’t know all of the details, you’ll have to speak to Rhys and Feyre.” Elain seemed to falter under the intensity of his gaze. “You arrived a few nights ago, winnowed to the River House poisoned and half-dead. Madja’s been working on you for days.”

"You've been here all this time?"

He leaned closer to her, his chest warming at the thought that perhaps he hadn't destroyed this, not like everything else he seemed to touch. Elain was frozen under his graze, eyes wide and lips parted. He drew closer, inhaling the scent of jasmine and honey, unable to resist her magnetism.

"Oh." She started and moved back in her chair, putting distance between him and his advances. "No, I arrived about half an hour ago. Y/N needed to get some rest." Her face seemed to implore him to do something and his thoughts were drawn to the failed kiss at solstice. Perhaps this was a gift from the mother Azriel reasoned. An opportunity to do everything over.

His eyes fixed on hers and an unfamiliar sensation bloomed in his chest. Azriel frowned as he felt a tug, it seemed to come from inside his ribcage. He brought his free hand, the one that was still clutching at Elain's, to rub at the skin over his heart. Confused he trailed his eyes down Elain's face to look at the skin his scarred fingers danced over.

He started as he saw it, the thread of pure gold. He reached in a tugged, feeling the answering wave of love and relief. If Azriel felt like he was drowning earlier it was nothing compared to the joy and elation that threatened to swallow him whole. His eyes burned as tears brimmed.

"Elain," he breathed. "I can't believe..." He trailed off, fixing her with a gaze of awe. If he wasn't still suffering from the lingering sluggishness perhaps he would have taken more stock of her confused stare. His hand stilled against his chest and he continued to stare at her. Whatever permission he was looking for, he thought he found in her gaze.

He reached up to caress her neck, following the delicate arch upwards to tangle his long fingers into her curls. His other hand dropped hers to cradle her cheek.

"Azriel." Elain tried to move back further in her chair to escape his wandering hands but found no further retreat against the back of the hardwood. Azriel followed her, shifting forward on the bed so only a few inches separated their faces. His breath mingled with hers.

Taking a deep breath he closed the distance between their lips, fire pooling in his gut with anticipation of finally getting to taste her like he had dreamed of. Claiming her full bottom lip between his own he revelled in the sweetness of her mouth. He pressed harder, her soft lips yielding against his own as he moved to deepen the kiss by tracing his tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Elain softened in his arms and her fisted hands moved up to rest against his bare chest, not pulling him close but not pushing him away either.

He pulled back slightly, her doe-eyes meeting his firey gaze as he smiled contently at her. His left hand was tangled in the roots of her hair exposing the delicate skin of her ear which he moved to trace with his nose. His breath grazed the supple skin of her neck and his lips danced over the skin of her neck.

"Azriel, wait." Elain seemed to be roused by his actions, opening her hands to press her palms against the plain of his chest. He paused his movement against her throat, inhaling more of her scent deeply as he began to pull back.

"Azriel?"

The voice was unfamiliar, husky and choked, holding back emotion. Hurt bloomed through Azriel's chest and it startled him away from Elain. Anger rose within him at this stranger's interruption, at the hurt they'd caused Elain. Elain who was his mate. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl, driven by instinct. His eyes moved towards the doorway. He felt naked, at a disadvantage without the shadows that had followed him for most of his life, always whispering, always alerting him to the movement of others.

His eyes fixed on the feminine figure in the doorway, taking a cursory gaze over the long golden hair that pooled to her shoulders. She wore night court attire, loose-fitting dark trousers, and a thin-strapped top that hugged the top of her form and flowed out over the obvious swell of her abdomen. The trousers cut off at the calves and a swirl of shadows danced around her feet. Azriel started. They were his shadows.

Elain jumped to her feet, the wooden chair pulled up beside the bed hit the carpeted floor with a thud as she made to move away from Azriel. His hands moved to grab her, to pull her behind him as he struggled to his feet, to protect her from this thief that had infiltrated his home.

"Y/N...This isn't...We weren't, it was..."Elain trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for how to continue. Azriel, now upright but still unsteady, staggered forward a few steps to place himself in between the stranger and Elain.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Elain obviously knew this woman. His mind spun, thoughts still heavy from the lingering fever as he tried to piece the information together. He gestured at the floor, a signal for his shadows to return. Some of them peeled away from winding up the calves of this stranger and slithered towards him across the floor. He took comfort in the familiar cool trail left as they crawled up his legs and chest, curling around his ear to report to him.

Safe, they whispered. Safe as you instructed. Azriel frowned, clearly they were mistaken. He fixed his eyes on the female again, drawn to her face. Chartreuse eyes, lined with tears and framed with long lashes and dark charcoal, stared back at him. They weren't fae he realised, they possessed the otherworldly quality he'd only seen when looking at Amren. There was a deep sense of other about this female that heightened his feelings of unease, coupled with the rogue shadows that flaunted his command and stayed at her feet like loyal guard dogs Azriel automatically grazed his thigh looking for the reassurance of the heavy weight of truth-teller. He found none.

Elain was speaking again, trying to move forward past him, and this time he successfully caught her arm, gently angling her away from the infiltrator to shield her with his body once more. The female's gaze moved from his face to fix where his hand remained on Elain's bicep, rucking up the delicate pale pink fabric as he gripped it with his scarred fingers. Her eyes widened more, Azriel studied as her pouted bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to spill down her face. She took a step back from where she stood in the open doorway, retreating into the hallway. Azriel was torn between the instinct to follow, to press the advantage he'd unwittingly gained and staying to protect Elain.

Elain who was violently shrugged herself out of his grip, whirling to face him her face filled with anger he'd never seen on her delicate features before.

"What in the cauldron are you doing?" Elain's teeth were bared, her chestnut eyes blazed as she gestured at him widely as she continued. "Have you lost your mind?"

Azriel, surprised at her sudden anger, felt a deep sense of unease that he'd misjudged the situation somehow. His mind whirled, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was so used to having the upper hand, having all the information, that without it he was lost for words. Elain continued to back away from him and his eyes darted from her to the doorway which now stood empty, no signs of the mysterious female remained. Azriel's eyes fixed again on Elain's face as they stared at each other. He tugged at the cord in his chest, hoping to receive a response, some kind of assurance that he hadn't imagined it.

A deep sense of betrayal coursed back through the bond, anger mingled with hurt, the sensation was so strong that it almost brought Azriel to his knees. As quickly as the sensation came it stopped, the thread no longer sung and Azriel tried to follow it to the source. A source, he realised flinching, that didn't end with Elain but seemed to trail off and lead elsewhere.

The clap as a pair of powerful wings moved through the air was the only warning as seconds later Rhys landed on the balcony. The doors flew open on a wave of darkness as he sauntered into the room, violet eyes scanning the scene. A dark brow crooked as he took in Elain's rage and his brother half-naked, still flush with fever his shadows swirling in agitation.

"What happened? Azriel, should you be out of bed? Where's Madja?" He addressed his brother first, but his eyes drifted to Elain as he cocked his head for the answer to the second question. Elain took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself, before closing her eyes - an obvious invitation, she wanted to show Rhys. Azriel decided that she could show him whatever she wanted. The more pressing issue, the unknown female, would have to take priority over whatever punishment the High Lord wanted to concoct over Azriel's blatant disregard for his orders.

"Rhys, the stranger - you have to find her. I don't know how she got in. I woke without my shadows and they were with her, she took them."

Rhy's eyes moved between him and Elain as he seemed to piece together the course of events. He took a step forward, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as Azriel bristled.

"Az." His voice was low, comforting, like he was trying to soothe a cornered predator. "Everything is okay, why don't you take a seat. Feyre's on her way, I think we need to talk."

A/N I'm hoping to start working on Part 2 asap but not sure how long it will take, I have so many ideas for this and committing to them is so hard

[perfectlyoongi]

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who still has your pillow on his bed, just because it smells like you. no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi swore that particles of your essence were still reveling in that white pillow; no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi swore he still felt you every night, when his thoughts were more violent and his heart asked for comfort, asked for you; no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi would never wash that pillow, fearing that the memories of you would drown in the sea of neglect that covered the entire space outside the bed, outside of Yoongi’s safe haven. yes, no matter how much time had passed, Yoongi would never be able to forget how your soul smelled like home. “i carry with me the weight of the longing you left behind. part of me wants to believe that it’s all just a dream. but when the moon is high and my thoughts suffocate me, it’s your comfort that i miss. it’s you that i miss.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who looks for you in every crowd. he knew he was just hurting himself, but Yoongi couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in each face closely, hoping to see your sweet smile on them, hoping to see your bright eyes on them, hoping to see you in the middle of them. without noticing, Yoongi always found himself in the middle of crowds, those places he always avoided and preferred to see from afar; but now, when your departure squeezed Yoongi’s heart and the longing for you guided Yoongi’s steps, he always ended up in the middle of the crowds, wanting, waiting, begging, to see you one last time. “your existence haunts me. the ghost of our memories wanders among the crowds, seeking from them the love they know only you can give. it’s a game without any victories.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who goes back to the places where he kissed you to relive the memories. the days were grey, painted in tones of melancholy, and Yoongi could only feel his heart sink. it was there that he kissed you for the first time, your shy smile was still stuck on the small park bench; it was in front of that tree that Yoongi said the first i love you to you, your nervous laugh still echoed through the tree’s branches; it was in front of that window that you stole a kiss that tasted like caramel, he could still see his rosy cheeks in the immaculate glass of the store. the entire city was a map of Yoongi’s happiest moments; in every corner, in every nook, in every neighborhood lived fragments of your soul and the memory of you covered every street with a permanent veil of pure guilt, regret, longing, love. “it is in these places that the beauty of your soul still endures. and it was in those places that i kissed you and loved you and swore to always love you. and i will always love you.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who spends sleepless nights wondering where he went wrong. had Yoongi forgotten any important dates? no. your birthday was celebrated with laughter, the smiles from your anniversary still painted works of art in Yoongi’s heart. would his work have interfered in any way with your life together? no. Yoongi no longer spent nights in the studio. Yoongi had already stopped locking himself in his office when he was at home. Yoongi had renounced his art, his passion, to be able to love you. but, was that Yoongi’s mistake? did he love you too much? was Yoongi’s love so big, so intense, so suffocating, that it only gave you one way out? a way out of his life? “tell me if my devotion was the cause of my destruction. i ask you. please, tell me where i went wrong so i can love you again. tell me what i didn’t do so i can have your love again.”

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who can’t look in the mirror without seeing you next to him. it was a constant agony that stepped and beat in Yoongi’s heart, squeezing tightly all the love he still felt, sharply attacking all the longing he had. and Yoongi only had to look in the mirror to feel it, to see it. there you were. always smiling, your hand gently holding Yoongi’s hand, your eyes locked on him. entire years were spent living next to you, living with you. entire days were spent in a weightless sea of pure love and fascination. and now, looking in the mirror, Yoongi felt empty, he felt incomplete. now, looking in the mirror, Yoongi’s heart manufactured a memory of you, cruelly reminding him that what was next to Yoongi was just the hope that still made his heart beat.

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who is slowly isolating himself. the crowds stopped hiding your face in them; the streets cleared every step you had walked; Yoongi’s house expelled all your essence without his permission. and now, lost in the middle of nowhere, without finding any hope in his sheets, in your pillow, Yoongi just sat on the floor and stayed there. still. the longing of you was the only thing that still made him live, still made him exist. every step Yoongi had taken, led him to that exact moment, to that point wh—

EX-BOYFRIEND!YOONGI who can’t say the word love again — for, without you being in his life, what meaning did that word have?

[darknesseddiem]

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫! 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eddie, a witty single dad in his thirties, finds his daughter Selene determined to play matchmaker. Selene sets her sights on you, the kind-hearted teacher she believes is perfect for her dad. However, Selene's well-meaning schemes often lead to humorous misunderstandings and mishaps between Eddie and you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None, fluff and Selene playing matchmaker.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8k+

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Okay, this was supposed to be a short blurb but I got carried away haha, also, I feel like this is so shitty omg I'm sorry guys.

Being a dad wasn’t in Eddie’s plans—especially not as a single dad. He loved his daughter Selene more than anything, but raising a newborn at thirty was a challenge he never saw coming. Her mom, a groupie he met at the Hideout, appeared on his doorstep one day with a tiny bundle and the bombshell news that he was a father. Then, just as quickly, she vanished, leaving Eddie to figure out fatherhood on his own.

At first, it was overwhelming. Sleepless nights, diaper disasters, and the constant worry of not being good enough haunted him. But Eddie rose to the challenge. He became the best dad Selene could ask for. He let her dress him up like a princess—complete with tiara—just to see her smile. He sang girly pop songs with all the enthusiasm of a rock concert, even if his Taylor Swift renditions were hilariously off-key. Selene’s giggles were worth every missed note and awkward dance move.

As she grew, new challenges arose. Eddie was terrified of kindergarten and primary school, haunted by memories of his own school days filled with bullying and the heavy stigma of being a Munson. He worried Selene would face the same judgments and social struggles. The thought of her enduring what he went through kept him up at night. But his love for her was unwavering, and he vowed to protect her from the shadows of his past.

Dating fell by the wayside as Eddie devoted himself to Selene. His wild nights at the Hideout were replaced by Disney movie marathons and bedtime stories. He traded late-night parties for evenings filled with princesses, talking animals, and endless reruns of "Frozen." And truth be told, he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.

This shift led to the current heart-to-heart with his friend Steve, someone Eddie never thought he'd befriend. As they sat on the couch, Eddie voiced his frustrations.

“You don’t understand, man. I can’t just go out and date any girl now,” Eddie explained, sipping his cold beer.

“I get it, but ever since Selene was born, you don’t go out anymore—not even with us!” Steve said, frustration evident. “You’ve turned into a hermit, man. You need a life outside of Disney movies and bedtime stories.”

Eddie sighed, staring at the flickering TV. “I know, Steve. It’s just... everything’s different now. I can’t just drop everything and go out like I used to.”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “I get that you’re a dad now, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes back into the dating pool. Who knows? You might find someone who understands and fits into your new life.”

Eddie let out a wry chuckle. “I doubt that. What kind of woman wants a thirty-six-year-old guy with a daughter? Slim pickings, I tell you.”

Steve squeezed Eddie’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t count yourself out, buddy. We’ll find you someone.”

Eddie looked at Steve with a hint of resignation. “Forget it, Steve,” he sighed. “I think I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life.” He rolled his eyes playfully, masking the underlying sadness with humor.

Just then, a small figure emerged from the hallway shadows. Selene stood there, eyes wide and thoughtful. Eddie and Steve turned, momentarily surprised.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat, realizing she had heard everything. He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

Selene looked up at her dad with a serious expression. “Daddy, you don’t have to be alone. I can help find you a girlfriend!”

Eddie blinked, taken aback by her earnestness. He exchanged a surprised glance with Steve, who stifled a chuckle.

“Sel,” Eddie started, his voice softening as he knelt to her level, “It’s sweet of you to want to help, but…”

“But what?” Selene interrupted, eyes wide with determination.

“But it’s not that simple,” Eddie explained gently. “Finding someone special takes time, and they have to be someone who understands how important you are to me.”

Selene nodded thoughtfully, processing her dad’s words. “Okay,” she finally said, a small smile playing on her lips. “But when you find her, can we watch Disney movies together?”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s innocence. “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Steve watched the exchange with a fond smile. “You’ve got quite the matchmaker here, Eddie,” he remarked, patting Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a while. “She’s something else.”

While Eddie and Steve chuckled over their beers, finding amusement in the situation, Selene had already made up her mind: she would find her daddy a girlfriend.

Returning to her room, Selene plopped down on her bed and began to think about all the adult women she knew. Well, there was the librarian, Mrs. Petterson, but she looked like an old owl with her thick glasses and constant "shushing." Then there was the girl from the bakery who always brought cakes for her and her daddy, but she smelled weird—like a mix of flour and something Selene couldn't quite place, maybe too much vanilla.

She briefly considered the nice lady from the grocery store who always gave her stickers, but she remembered her loud, witchy laugh that made her shiver. And then there was Mrs. Hinkley, the neighbor with the ten cats, but Selene was pretty sure her daddy was allergic to cats.

She sighed dramatically and sank deeper into her pillow. Wow… It was so hard to get a girlfriend. It seemed like every woman she knew had some kind of issue or quirk. Just then, a light bulb went off in her head. She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with excitement. Her kindergarten teacher, Miss Sunshine! Miss Sunshine was perfect—she was always kind, smelled nice, and most importantly, Selene adored her.

With renewed determination, Selene smiled to herself. This was going to work. It had to! She just needed to come up with a plan. After all, if finding a girlfriend for her daddy was this hard, actually making it happen would require all her wits and maybe a bit of luck.

That night, Selene went to sleep with her head buzzing with ideas. Tomorrow, her plan would begin. She could already picture it: Daddy and Miss Sunshine, happy together. Selene smiled to herself as she drifted off, dreaming of all the ways she would bring them together.

The next morning, Selene woke up with the first rays of dawn, excitement bubbling inside her like a fizzy soda. She could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she slipped out of bed and padded over to her dresser. Today was the day her grand plan would begin.

She chose her favorite princess dress, the one with sparkles and a twirl-worthy skirt, and carefully pulled it on. She took extra time brushing her hair, making sure it was smooth and shiny, just like a real princess. Finally, she checked her reflection and gave herself a big, confident smile. She was ready.

Eddie was already in the kitchen, juggling a frying pan and a coffee mug. He was making scrambled eggs and toast, a breakfast staple in the Munson household. He hummed softly to himself, enjoying the quiet morning routine.

Selene bounded into the kitchen, her dress fluttering around her. "Morning, Daddy!" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Eddie turned, a broad smile spreading across his face at the sight of his daughter. "Good morning, princess! You’re up early today."

Selene climbed onto a chair at the kitchen table, her excitement barely contained. "I have a special day planned, Daddy. It’s very important!"

Eddie chuckled as he placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. "Oh? And what’s so special about today?"

Selene leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s a secret, but you’ll find out soon."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A secret, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see."

After breakfast, Eddie and Selene headed out to the car. Eddie helped Selene buckle into her booster seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. As they drove to school, Selene hummed a happy tune, her mind racing with thoughts of how the day would unfold.

Eddie glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You seem extra happy today, Sel. Anything you want to share with your old man?"

Selene giggled. "Not yet, Daddy. But it’s going to be amazing. You’ll see."

Eddie laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, princess. I trust you."

When they arrived at the school, Eddie walked Selene to her classroom, as he did every morning. You were already there, greeting students with your usual warmth. Your bright smile and sunny demeanor earned you the nickname, and you was a favorite among the children and parents alike.

"Good morning, Miss Sunshine!" Selene called out as she entered the classroom, her excitement evident.

"Good morning, Selene!" You replied, your smile widening. "You look lovely today. Is that a new dress?"

Selene twirled around, showing off her outfit. "No, but it’s my favorite!"

Eddie watched the exchange with a fond smile before stepping forward. "Morning, Miss Sunshine. How are you?"

"I’m great, Mr. Munson. How about you?"

"Can’t complain," Eddie replied, giving you a nod before turning to Selene. "Alright, princess. Have a great day. I’ll see you later."

As soon as Eddie left, Selene’s determination kicked into high gear. She needed to talk to you and set her plan in motion. She waited patiently until the morning activities started, then approached you with a serious expression.

"Miss Sunshine, I have a very important message for you," Selene said, her voice solemn.

You knelt down to her level, intrigued. "What’s the message, Selene?"

"Daddy wants to meet you," Selene stated confidently. "He said he needs to talk to you about something very important."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh? Did he say why?"

Selene nodded eagerly. "Yep! He said he needs to talk to you about something super important."

Your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind Selene’s words. She assumed it must be related to Selene’s behavior or perhaps a concern Eddie had about her schooling. "Is everything okay with you, Selene?"

Selene beamed. "Everything is perfect!"

You smiled, albeit a bit confused. "Alright, I’ll make sure to speak with him when he comes to pick you up."

Eddie arrived at the school later that afternoon, looking forward to seeing Selene after a long day. As he walked towards the classroom, he noticed you standing by the door, a concerned look on your face.

"Hello!" Eddie greeted you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr. Munson. Could I have a word with you?" you asked, your tone a bit more serious than usual.

Eddie’s smile faltered. "Sure, is something wrong?"

You glanced at Selene, who was busy drawing at a nearby table. "Well, Selene mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something important."

Eddie looked puzzled. "She did? I mean, I guess there’s always something to talk about when you’re a parent, but I didn’t have anything specific in mind."

You frowned slightly, your patience thinning. "She said you were concerned about something."

Eddie’s expression hardened, feeling a twinge of irritation. "Concerned? No, Selene’s been great! I can’t think of any problems."

Selene, overhearing the conversation, decided to join in. "Daddy, did you ask Mrs. Sunshine to be your girlfriend yet?"

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. "What? No, Selene, that’s not what we talked about!"

Your cheeks turned a shade of pink, and you folded your arms. "Oh, I see. This is a bit... unexpected."

Eddie tried to regain his composure, his voice tense and a bit louder. "I’m really sorry. Selene must have misunderstood our conversation. We were talking about... well, adult stuff, and she must have gotten the wrong idea."

You nodded, but your expression remained serious. "No harm done, but you should know what your daughter is thinking. Kids have such vivid imaginations, but it’s important to clarify these things."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his frustration rise. "Yeah, she’s definitely got that. I hope this didn’t cause you any trouble."

You shook your head, your smile more strained than genuine. "Not at all, but maybe you should have a talk with her."

Selene looked up at both of you, confused by the adult tension but proud of her efforts. "So, you don’t want to be my daddy’s girlfriend?"

Eddie clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling over. "Selene, I think it’s best if we leave this to the grown-ups, okay?"

Selene sighed dramatically but nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

You crouched down beside her, your tone softening. "Don’t worry, Selene. Your daddy and I are just friends, and that’s important too."

Selene smiled, satisfied for the moment. Eddie stood up, feeling a mix of relief and lingering irritation.

"Thanks for understanding," he said, his tone sharper than intended.

"No problem at all, Mr. Munson. Have a good evening," you replied, matching his tone.

As they walked away, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Despite the awkwardness, he appreciated Selene’s efforts but knew this was just the beginning of what could be a long, complicated journey.

Eddie and Selene walked to the car, Eddie’s mind still buzzing with the awkward exchange with Sunshine. As they buckled in, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to address what had just happened.

Eddie started the car, the engine’s hum filling the initial silence. He glanced at Selene through the rearview mirror, her innocent face reflecting none of the confusion and frustration swirling inside him.

“Selene,” Eddie began, trying to keep his voice calm, “we need to talk about what happened today.”

Selene looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did you like talking to Sunshine, Daddy?”

Eddie sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Selene, you told Sunshine that I wanted to talk to her about something important. Why did you do that?”

Selene’s face lit up with a proud smile. “Because you do! You told Uncle Steve you wanted someone to share your life with, and I thought Sunshine would be perfect!”

Eddie groaned inwardly, trying to suppress his irritation. “Sweetheart, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you can’t just tell people things like that. It caused a big misunderstanding.”

Selene’s smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. “But I just wanted to help.”

Eddie glanced at her again, his frustration evident but softened by her earnest expression. “I know you did, but grown-up stuff is complicated. You can’t just decide for someone else who they should be with.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip quivering. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted you to be happy.”

Eddie’s heart softened, his frustration melting away at the sight of her tears. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to look at her directly.

“Selene,” he said gently, reaching back to hold her tiny hand, “I know you want to help, and I love you for that. But finding someone special is something that has to happen naturally. You can’t force it or plan it.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just thought Sunshine would make you smile like she makes me smile.”

Eddie smiled softly, squeezing her hand. “She’s a wonderful teacher, Selene, and I’m glad she makes you happy. But these things take time, and we have to let them happen on their own.”

Selene nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Okay, Daddy. I’m really sorry.”

Eddie leaned over and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, princess. Just promise me you won’t try to set me up with anyone again without talking to me first.”

Selene nodded earnestly. “I promise.”

Eddie started the car again, his heart feeling lighter. As they drove home, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the day’s events. Despite the awkwardness and frustration, he knew Selene’s intentions were pure. 

Later that night, Selene sat quietly in her room, her little mind racing with thoughts. The plan hadn’t gone as expected, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. There had to be another way to get her daddy and Sunshine together. She picked up her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Whiskers, and hugged it tight as she brainstormed.

"What if Daddy invited Sunshine to dinner?" she whispered to Mr. Whiskers. "Maybe then they could talk and get to know each other better."

She nodded to herself, feeling a new wave of determination. Tomorrow, she would find a way to get Daddy to invite Sunshine over for dinner. But for now, it was time for dinner with Daddy.

Downstairs, Eddie was busy in the kitchen, preparing their usual Wednesday night spaghetti. The aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, making Selene’s stomach rumble. She hopped off her bed and made her way downstairs, her excitement momentarily forgotten as she thought about how much she loved spaghetti nights with her dad.

"Dinner’s almost ready, princess," Eddie called out as he stirred the pot. "Can you set the table for me?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Selene replied, grabbing the plates and silverware. She carefully set the table, making sure everything was perfect.

Eddie brought the pot over and began serving the spaghetti, a warm smile on his face as he watched Selene carefully placing the forks and spoons. They sat down together, the cozy kitchen a safe haven for the two of them.

As they ate, Selene decided to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind for a while. "Daddy, why don’t I have a mom?"

Eddie froze, the fork halfway to his mouth. He put it down slowly, taking a deep breath. This was a conversation he had known would come eventually, but it didn’t make it any easier. He looked at Selene, her big, innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for an answer.

"Selene," he began softly, "your mom... well, she wasn’t ready to be a mom. When you were born, she decided that she couldn’t take care of you, so she left. It’s just been you and me ever since."

Selene’s eyes filled with confusion and sadness. "But why did she leave, Daddy? Wasn’t she happy to have me?"

Eddie’s heart ached at the sight of her tears. He moved his chair closer to hers and pulled her into his lap, holding her close. "It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. Your mom had her own problems and she made a choice. But I want you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you more than anything in this world, and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything."

Selene sniffled, burying her face in Eddie’s chest. "I love you too, Daddy. But sometimes I wish I had a mom like the other kids."

Eddie stroked her hair, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, baby. I wish things were different too. But you have so many people who love you—Uncle Steve, Miss Sunshine, and all your friends at school. And no matter what, you’ll always have me."

Selene hugged him tighter, feeling the comfort of his embrace. "I know, Daddy. I’m glad I have you."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, finding solace in their shared love. Eddie knew he couldn’t change the past, but he was determined to give Selene the best future he could. And maybe, just maybe, things would start to look up for both of them.

Later that night, as Eddie tucked Selene into bed, she looked up at him with a determined expression. "Daddy, can we invite Sunshine to dinner? Maybe she’d like spaghetti too."

Eddie chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We’ll see, princess. Let’s take things one step at a time, okay?"

Selene nodded, her eyes already drooping with sleep. "Okay, Daddy. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Selene," Eddie whispered, kissing her forehead. He turned off the light and closed the door, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. Tomorrow was another day, and who knew what it might bring. But for now, he was grateful for the love he shared with his daughter, even if it was just the two of them against the world.

The next morning, Selene woke up with a renewed sense of determination. She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly in her favorite outfit—a bright yellow dress covered in tiny sunflowers. With a smile on her face, she ran downstairs to find Eddie already in the kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Morning, Daddy!” she chirped, hopping onto her chair at the kitchen table.

Eddie turned around, a spatula in hand, and grinned at his daughter. “Morning, princess. You’re up early today.”

Selene beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wanted to see you before you go to work. Are you picking me up today?”

Eddie shook his head as he slid a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Selene. “Not today, sweetie. Auntie Robin’s going to pick you up, remember? I have a late shift.”

“Oh, right,” Selene said, her mind already racing with thoughts of her plan. “Daddy, can we go to school a little earlier today? I want to show you something.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, curious. “Earlier? How early?”

“Like… really early,” Selene said, trying to sound casual. “Maybe before you usually leave for work?”

Eddie laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Alright, but not too early. I still need to get ready for work.”

Eddie pulled up to the school, glancing at the clock. They were a bit earlier than usual, but not by much. He parked the car and turned to Selene.

“Okay, we’re here. What did you want to show me?” he asked.

“Actually, Daddy, I just wanted to spend a little more time with you,” Selene said, giving him her most innocent smile.

Eddie’s heart melted. “Alright, let’s go inside.”

As they walked towards the school entrance, they spotted you, rushing around with a stack of papers in your hands. You looked frazzled and stressed, clearly having a hectic morning.

Selene tugged on Eddie’s hand. “Look, Daddy! There’s Sunshine!”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Selene, wait—”

But it was too late. Selene had already run over to you, waving enthusiastically. “Hi, Sunshine!”

You looked up, startled. “Oh, hi Selene. Good morning, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie gave an awkward wave. “Morning. Sorry, we’re here a bit early today.”

You forced a smile, clearly in a rush. “It’s alright, but I’m kind of busy right now. I have a meeting to get to.”

Selene, undeterred, piped up. “Daddy wanted to talk to you again!”

Eddie’s face flushed with embarrassment and a hint of anger. “Selene, I didn’t—”

Just then, another teacher approached you, whispering urgently in your ear. You glanced at Eddie and Selene, then at your watch, your frustration mounting.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to go,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “Maybe another time?”

Eddie nodded, feeling awkward and out of place. “Yeah, of course. Sorry to bother you.”

As you turned to leave, Eddie realized that in his haste to follow Selene, he had parked his car in a way that was now blocking yours. You tried to get into your car, only to see that you couldn’t back out.

“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, turning back to Eddie with a frown. “Mr. Munson, your car is blocking mine.”

Eddie’s face turned red, a mix of frustration and embarrassment boiling inside him. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry. I’ll move it right now.”

You sighed, your frustration clear. “I’m going to be late for a really important meeting because of this.”

Eddie hurried to move his car, his movements jerky and tense. The damage was done; you were visibly upset, and he could feel the tension building. As soon as he reparked, you got into your car, throwing him one last irritated glance before driving off.

Selene stood by the curb, her face falling as she watched the scene unfold. Eddie walked back to her, his expression a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Daddy, I—”

Eddie cut her off, his tone harsher than he intended. “Selene, what were you thinking? You can’t just drag me over to talk to Sunshine.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip trembling. “I just wanted you to be happy, Daddy…”

Eddie’s anger softened, replaced by a pang of regret. He knelt down and pulled her into a hug, feeling her small body shake with sobs. “I know, baby. I know. But we need to think things through before we act. You can’t just spring stuff like this on people.”

Selene sniffled, nodding against his chest. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing her back gently. “It’s okay, Sel. Let’s just get you to class, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

As he walked Selene to her classroom, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and embarrassment. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go, and now he had made things even more awkward with you. The misunderstanding was only growing, and he worried about how they would ever get past it.

Later that day, Auntie Robin arrived to pick up Selene. She noticed Eddie’s tense expression and Selene’s subdued demeanor.

“What happened?” Robin asked, concerned.

Eddie sighed. “Long story. Selene tried to play matchmaker again, and it didn’t go well.”

Robin shook her head with a sympathetic smile. “Kids, huh? Don’t worry, dingus. It’ll work out eventually.”

Eddie nodded, hoping she was right. As he watched Robin drive away with Selene, he couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to fix this mess. And more importantly, how he could protect Selene’s heart in the process.

He spent the rest of the day feeling uneasy. As he went through his work shift, his mind kept drifting back to the incident at school. He couldn’t shake the image of your frustrated expression or Selene’s teary eyes. He knew he had to make things right.

During his lunch break, Eddie sat in the break room, staring at his phone. The idea of apologizing made his stomach churn with nerves, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He dialed Robin’s number, hoping for some advice.

“Hey, dingus! How’s it going?” Robin’s cheerful voice greeted him.

“Hey, Robin. I need your help with something,” Eddie replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, sensing his seriousness.

Eddie took a deep breath. “It’s about this morning. Selene and I had a bit of a run-in with her teacher. It was really awkward and… I kind of snapped at Selene.”

Robin listened patiently as Eddie recounted the events of the morning. “Sounds like a rough start to the day,” she said sympathetically. “But hey, kids have big hearts and even bigger imaginations. Selene was just trying to help.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “I feel terrible. I need to apologize to her, but I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“Well,” Robin began thoughtfully, “why don’t you write her a note? Explain what happened and say you’re sorry. It’ll show you’re sincere.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a bit of relief at having a plan. “Thanks, Robin. I’ll do that.”

After work, Eddie picked up Selene from Robin’s house. As they drove home, Selene sat quietly in the back seat, her earlier enthusiasm dampened by the morning’s events.

“Hey, Sel,” Eddie said softly, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m going to write a note to Miss Sunshine to apologize. Do you want to help me?”

Selene’s eyes brightened a little. “Can I draw a picture for her too?”

Eddie smiled. “That’s a great idea, princess. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Once they were home, Eddie and Selene sat at the kitchen table. Eddie began writing the note while Selene drew a colorful picture of their family, complete with you standing next to them with a big smile.

Eddie’s note:

"Dear Y/n,

I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding this morning. Selene and I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. She was just excited, and I didn’t handle the situation as well as I should have. I’m really sorry for blocking your car and making you late for your meeting.

Thank you for your understanding, and I hope we can move past this.

Sincerely, Eddie Munson"

Eddie read the note out loud to Selene, who nodded approvingly. “That sounds good, Daddy.”

“Alright, let’s put this together,” Eddie said, taping Selene’s drawing to the note. “We’ll give it to her tomorrow.”

The next morning, Eddie felt a mix of nervousness and anxiety as he and Selene arrived at the school. They waited until you had a free moment, then approached you with the note and drawing in hand.

“Hey,” Eddie began, his voice earnest. “I wanted to give you this. It’s an apology for yesterday.”

You took the note and drawing, your expression softening as you read Eddie’s heartfelt words and admired Selene’s artwork.

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you said, smiling at Selene. “And thank you, Selene, for the beautiful drawing.”

Eddie felt a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m really sorry for everything. It won’t happen again.”

You nodded, the tension between you easing. “I appreciate the apology. Let’s just start fresh, okay?”

Eddie smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. “Sounds good to me. Have a great day, Miss Sunshine.”

The school day was moving along smoothly, but you couldn’t help but notice that Selene seemed quieter than usual. Typically, she was a bundle of energy, chatting with friends and eagerly participating in activities. Today, however, she was more subdued, her usual spark dimmed.

During arts and crafts time, Selene sat at her table, her crayons barely moving across the paper. You watched her for a moment, concern growing. Deciding to check in, you walked over and knelt beside her.

“Hey, Selene,” you said softly. “What are you drawing?”

She looked up at you with big, sad eyes. “I’m drawing my family,” she said quietly. On the paper, you saw a simple drawing of a house, with stick figures representing her and her dad. There was also a faint outline of a figure beside them, but it was left unfinished.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” you said, trying to encourage her. “Who’s that?” you asked, pointing to the unfinished figure.

Selene hesitated, her lip quivering. “I wanted to draw my mom, but I don’t really know what she looks like.”

Your heart ached for her. You knew from previous conversations with Eddie that Selene’s mother wasn’t in the picture, but seeing the impact it had on her was heartbreaking. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Selene. Your drawing is beautiful just the way it is.”

She gave a small nod, but her eyes remained downcast. “I just wish I knew her,” she whispered.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I know it’s hard, sweetie. But you have your dad, and he loves you very much. And you have all of us here, too.”

Selene offered a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, Miss.”

The rest of the day, you kept an eye on her, making sure she felt included and supported. As the school day ended, you saw Eddie arrive to pick her up. You decided it might be a good idea to talk to him about Selene’s mood.

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him as he approached.

“Hi,” he replied, managing a smile. “How was Selene today?”

You hesitated, not wanting to alarm him but feeling it was important to share. “She was a bit quieter than usual. I think she might be feeling a bit down.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in concern. “Really? Did she say why?”

“She mentioned something about her mom,” you said gently. “I think she’s just having a hard time with it.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she asked me about her mom other day, I tried to explain, but it’s tough. She doesn’t understand why her mom isn’t around.”

You nodded, understanding the difficult position he was in. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, his gratitude evident. “I appreciate it.”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a deep empathy for both Eddie and Selene.

Later that evening, as you prepared for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Selene’s sad eyes and Eddie’s worried expression. You resolved to keep an extra close eye on Selene in the coming days, doing whatever you could to bring a bit of sunshine back into her life.

Over the next few days, Selene’s sadness seemed to deepen. Her usually bright eyes were often downcast, and her infectious laughter was rarely heard. It was as if a cloud had settled over her, and it worried you deeply.

In class, she no longer eagerly raised her hand to answer questions or shared her imaginative stories with the group. She would sit quietly, barely engaging in activities that she used to love. During recess, instead of running around with her friends, she would find a quiet corner to sit and watch the other kids play.

One morning, as you were preparing for the day’s lessons, you noticed Selene sitting alone on the swings. She was gently swaying back and forth, her gaze fixed on the ground. You decided to take a moment to check on her.

“Hey, Sel,” you said softly, sitting on the swing next to her. “Do you want to talk about what’s been bothering you?”

Selene shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “I miss my mom,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know her, but I miss her.”

Your heart broke for her. “I know it’s really hard, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad and miss someone, even if you haven’t met them.”

She nodded, her small hands gripping the chains of the swing tightly. “Daddy tries to make me feel better, but I can tell he’s sad too.”

You sighed, wishing there was more you could do to ease her pain. “You know, Selene, you have a lot of people who care about you. Your dad and all your friends here. We’re all here for you.”

She gave a small nod, but the sadness in her eyes remained.

Eddie was at his wit's end. He’d noticed the change in Selene’s behavior, and it tore him apart. She was his world, and seeing her so downcast made him feel helpless. Every evening, he tried to cheer her up with her favorite activities – watching Disney movies, playing dress-up, reading her favorite bedtime stories – but nothing seemed to lift her spirits.

One night, as he tucked her into bed, he tried to talk to her again. “Selene, sweetie, I can tell you’ve been really sad lately. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Selene looked up at him with teary eyes. “I just miss my mom, Daddy. I don’t understand why she’s not here.”

Eddie’s heart ached. He wished he could give her the answers she needed. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could change things, but sometimes people make choices that hurt us, even if they don’t mean to.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Will she ever come back?”

Eddie swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her question. “I don’t know, Sel. But what I do know is that I love you more than anything, and I’m always going to be here for you.”

Selene nodded, her little face still filled with sadness. “I love you too, Daddy.”

As she drifted off to sleep, Eddie sat by her bedside, feeling a mixture of anger and sorrow. He hated that he couldn’t make things better for her, that he couldn’t erase the pain of her mother’s absence.

The following day, Eddie arrived at school early, looking more haggard than usual. You could see the worry etched on his face as he walked Selene to her classroom. After she settled in, he approached you, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” he began, his voice strained. “I’m really worried about Selene. She’s been so sad, and I don’t know what to do.”

You nodded, understanding his concern. “I’ve noticed it too. She’s been very quiet and withdrawn. Have you thought about maybe talking to a counselor? It might help her to have someone to talk to about her feelings.”

Eddie sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I just want to fix it myself, you know? I hate seeing her like this.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But sometimes, we all need a little extra help. It doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough; it just means that there are people who can support you both.”

He nodded, looking down the hallway where Selene was sitting quietly at her desk. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Y/n.”

As the days continued, you kept a close eye on Selene, doing your best to engage her in class and offering her extra support. 

As the days passed and Selene’s sadness persisted, an idea sparked in your mind. Maybe a change of scenery and a special treat would help lift her spirits. You approached Eddie one afternoon after school, catching him as he was picking up Selene from her classroom.

“Hey, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him with a warm smile. “I was thinking, maybe Selene could use a little outing to the park this weekend. How about we take her for some ice cream?”

Eddie looked at you, surprise flickering in his tired eyes. “Ice cream?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Sometimes a little treat and some fresh air can do wonders. What do you think?”

Eddie glanced down at Selene, who was quietly packing her backpack. He could see the traces of sadness lingering on her face. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he said finally, offering you a grateful smile.

Eddie watched as Selene perked up at the mention of ice cream. Her eyes lit up with a spark of excitement that he hadn’t seen in days. He couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out for a treat like that together. Maybe this was just what she needed.

That weekend, Eddie and Selene met you at the park. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the playground. Selene ran ahead, eager to explore the swings and slides while you and Eddie followed close behind.

“You’re really good with her, you know,” Eddie said as he watched Selene climb onto the swings.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “She’s a special girl. Just trying to help.”

Eddie nodded, grateful for your support. “I appreciate it. And thanks for suggesting this. I think it’s just what she needed.”

As Selene laughed and played, her laughter echoing through the park, Eddie felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in days, he saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes. Maybe things would be okay after all.

Watching Selene laugh and play brought a sense of joy to your heart. She deserved moments like this – carefree and happy. You glanced at Eddie, seeing the relief on his face as he watched his daughter.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself,” you said softly, leaning closer to Eddie.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving Selene. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for suggesting this.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you replied sincerely. “If there’s anything else I can do to help, just let me know.”

Eddie turned to you, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “You’ve already done a lot. I appreciate it.”

As the afternoon wore on, you and Eddie joined Selene on the playground, pushing her on the swings and chasing her around the jungle gym. For a few hours, Selene’s sadness seemed to melt away, replaced by laughter and the simple joy of being a kid.

As the sun began to set, you all sat on a bench, enjoying the last rays of warmth. Eddie glanced at you, his eyes softening with gratitude. “Thanks for today,” he said quietly. “It meant a lot to both of us.”

You smiled warmly. “Anytime, Eddie. She’s lucky to have you.”

He nodded, a hint of emotion in his voice. “And we’re lucky to have you too.”

After their afternoon at the park, Eddie noticed a slight change in Selene. She seemed more like herself again, her laughter returning and a sparkle in her eyes. It gave him hope that maybe things were turning around.

That evening, as they settled in for dinner, Selene looked up at Eddie with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Daddy, can we invite Miss Y/n to come over for dinner sometime? And maybe we can watch Disney movies together?"

Eddie paused, caught off guard by Selene's request. He glanced at her, unsure of how to respond. The idea of spending more time with you outside of school was both appealing and nerve-wracking. But seeing the hopeful look on Selene's face, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Sure, Sel," Eddie replied with a small smile. "I can ask Miss Y/n if she'd like to join us sometime."

The next day at school, you were surprised when Eddie approached you after class. He seemed a bit nervous, scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie started, his voice slightly hesitant. "So, uh, Selene mentioned something last night..."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Selene had said. "Oh? What did she say?"

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone casual. "She asked if you would like to come over for dinner sometime. And maybe we could watch some Disney movies together."

Your heart warmed at Selene's invitation. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Eddie. I'd love to join you and Selene for dinner."

Eddie smiled, relief evident on his face. "Great. How about this Friday? I can cook something, and we can pick out a couple of Selene's favorite movies to watch."

You nodded, feeling excited about the prospect of spending more time with them outside of school. "Friday sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it."

As you walked away, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Selene's idea had sparked something hopeful in both Eddie and yourself.

Friday evening arrived faster than Eddie anticipated. He had spent the entire week trying to decide on a menu that would impress you without overdoing it. Cooking wasn't his forte, but for Selene's sake—and now yours—he was determined to make a good impression.

As he chopped vegetables in the kitchen, Selene sat at the dining table, coloring a picture of her favorite Disney princess. Eddie stole glances at her every now and then, grateful for her infectious enthusiasm that kept his nerves at bay.

"Daddy, are you nervous?" Selene suddenly asked, looking up from her drawing.

Eddie chuckled nervously, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Maybe a little. I just want everything to go well tonight."

Selene smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Daddy. she likes you and me. She'll have fun."

Eddie's heart warmed at Selene's words. He hoped she was right. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Eddie felt a jolt of nerves shoot through him. Taking a deep breath, he hurried to answer it.

You stood nervously outside Eddie's door, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Despite your efforts to remain calm, your heart raced with anticipation. You had been looking forward to this evening all week, eager to spend more time with Eddie and Selene outside of school.

When Eddie opened the door, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He wore a simple button-up shirt and jeans, looking handsome and slightly flustered with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie greeted you warmly, though you detected a touch of nervousness in his voice.

"Hi, Eddie," you replied with a smile, trying to hide your own nerves. "I brought some dessert."

Eddie stepped aside to let you in, and you entered the cozy apartment, greeted by the inviting aroma of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. Selene rushed over, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Miss Y/n, you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "Come see what Daddy's making!"

You laughed, returning her hug warmly. "I can't wait to see, Selene."

As you followed Selene into the kitchen, Eddie busied himself with setting the table, stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement at having you here with them.

"So, um, how was your day?" Eddie asked awkwardly, trying to make conversation as he stirred a pot on the stove.

You smiled, appreciating his effort. "It was good, thank you. How about you? Busy day at work?"

Eddie nodded, a hint of relief in his voice. "Yeah, pretty busy. But I managed to leave early to get everything ready."

The three of you settled into an easy rhythm, chatting and laughing as Eddie finished cooking. Selene eagerly showed you her latest drawings and told you all about her favorite Disney movies. Eddie couldn't help but notice how comfortable you seemed with them both, and it eased some of his initial nerves.

Finally, dinner was ready, and Eddie served up the meal he had prepared—a hearty pasta dish with a side of garlic bread. As you all sat down to eat, the conversation flowed naturally, filled with laughter and shared stories.

Eddie caught himself stealing glances at you throughout the evening, feeling a warmth spread through him every time your eyes met. He was grateful that Selene had suggested this, bringing you all together in a way that felt natural and comforting.

As the evening drew to a close, Eddie cleared the table while you and Selene curled up on the couch to watch a Disney movie. Eddie joined you both after cleaning up, sitting on the other end of the couch with a contented sigh.

As the movie played, Selene nestled against you, occasionally glancing up at Eddie with a knowing smile. 

After a delightful evening of dinner and Disney movies, Selene yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I'm tired, Daddy," she murmured, pushing herself up from the couch.

Eddie smiled warmly at her. "Alright, princess. Time for bed."

Selene nodded, giving you a sleepy wave. "Goodnight, Sunshine. Thanks for coming over."

You returned her wave with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, Selene. It was my pleasure."

As Selene disappeared into her room, Eddie settled back on the couch, his expression relaxed yet thoughtful. He glanced at you, a slight nervousness evident in his eyes.

"That was... really nice," Eddie said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them.

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment in the air. "Yeah, it was. Selene's a sweet kid."

Eddie chuckled softly. "She is. And she really likes you, you know."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I like her too."

There was a brief pause as Eddie seemed to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke again, his voice soft but determined. "Y/n, I... I've been wanting to ask you something."

Your heart skipped a beat, sensing the seriousness in Eddie's tone. "What is it, Eddie?"

He met your gaze, his eyes searching yours. "Would you... would you like to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, happiness, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there was a genuine warmth in Eddie's request that made your decision easy.

"I'd love to, Eddie," you replied sincerely, a smile spreading across your face. "I'd really like that."

Relief washed over Eddie's features, followed by a shy smile. "Great. How about we plan something for next weekend?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

You realized it was late and got up to leave, at the door, Eddie's nervousness melted away as he leaned in slightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. It was brief but filled with unspoken warmth and the promise of more to come. You smiled softly at him, feeling a rush of happiness as you realized this was the beginning of something special between you.

"Goodnight, Sunshine," Eddie murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied softly, your heart fluttering with anticipation for the days ahead.

It was a perfect end to a memorable evening, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for all three of you.

Taglist: @birdysaturne @ali-r3n @maedesculpaeusoubi @borhapparker @peachysink @jadeylovesmarvelxo @marvelcasey05 @micheledawn1975 @kissmyacid @bells-28 @gagasbee @mykuup @happilyeverafterforme @missingbillyhargrove

[solxamber]

If you haven’t gotten this already, maybe a part 2 to Idia x sentient npc reader?

Maybe they somehow find themselves in twst? Maybe isekai style (I’m stuck on you villainess fics lol)? Or if you had other ideas that’s totally fine too. (I’m not used to requesting 😭)

I really like your stuff so honestly I wanna give you as much creative freedom. Or if you feel like that fic is over/you don’t have inspo for it anymore that’s understandable too 😊

Keep up the amazing work!! 💖💖

Idia Shroud x Sentient NPC Part 2

Part 1 : here

Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like my isekai fics <3

The moment you blink into existence in Twisted Wonderland, you’re not sure if this is real life or another game glitch. One minute you were comfortably breaking the fourth wall and wooing a gamer, and the next? You’re standing in front of an overgrown haunted house with a big “Night Raven College” sign. And a certain blue-haired, fire-topped guy is gaping at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

“W-WAIT,” Idia stammers, eyes wide behind his tablet as he stares at you. “This—This isn’t happening. There’s no way. Did I… did I actually summon an NPC?!”

You take one look at him—tousled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and the way his fingers hover over his tablet like it’s some sort of lifeline—and a grin tugs at your lips. Oh, this is gonna be good.

“Well, well, well,” you say, casually strolling over to him. “If it isn’t my favorite player. Miss me?”

Idia makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a strangled gasp, his whole body freezing up. “Y-You—! You’re here! How are you here?! Did I—is this some cursed DLC? Am I in a nightmare? Oh my god, is this another event?!”

You lean in, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Nightmare? Babe, I thought you were happy to see me.”

Idia’s face flushes a deep red, and he yanks his hoodie up over his head, mumbling something incoherent into the fabric. “H-Happy? Who said anything about happy?! I didn’t sign up for a ‘real-life NPC invading my world’ edition!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You weren’t just thinking about how much you’d like me if I were in the real world?”

He stiffens so hard it’s like his entire spine turned into a steel rod. “HOW DID YOU—NO. I didn’t—this isn’t—this is a glitch, it has to be! Or a fever dream. Or maybe I finally lost it after all those sleepless nights grinding for rare drops—"

"You're cute when you ramble," you interrupt with a smirk, enjoying watching him implode. "So, are you going to show me around this place, or should I just assume you’re too flustered to handle me?"

Idia stares at you like you’ve grown two extra heads. “Y-You’re just… okay with this? You’re literally… in a different dimension, and you’re fine?!”

You shrug. “Eh, it’s a step up from my last gig. Besides,” you add, leaning in closer, “I kinda like having you as my guide.”

His brain short-circuits for a full ten seconds. “G-GUIDE?! L-Like an actual dating sim?! Do you think this is a game?!”

You pause dramatically. “Isn’t everything a game?”

There’s an audible groan from behind you, and you turn to find Grim, your new furry audience member, smacking his face with his paw. “Great, just what we needed—another weirdo.”

Idia, still staring at you like you’re some kind of unholy glitch in his life’s code, manages to stammer out, “I—I can’t believe this is real. There’s no way this is real.”

You smirk. “It’s real, all right. And don’t pretend you’re not thrilled. I can practically hear your heart racing.”

His face flushes even deeper, and he clutches his tablet like it’s his last connection to sanity. “Okay, okay. You’re in Twisted Wonderland, fine. But this doesn’t mean you get to start… start messing with the plot!”

You grin. “Who says I’m here to follow the plot?”

Idia lets out a strangled noise, burying his face deeper in his hoodie. “This… this is too much. I’m not ready for this level of immersion. This is like, hardcore VR, but real! And with you here, it’s… it’s… OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I DO?!”

You put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. “Easy. You play the game, Idia. And let me show you how fun it can get when I’m the one writing the script.”

The look of sheer panic—and excitement—on his face is priceless. "Y-You're serious?!" he squeaks, not sure whether to pass out or burst into flames from sheer embarrassment. "But, like—what if this is a permanent event?! What if I never—"

"Oh, relax," you say, poking his chest lightly. "I'll make sure we both enjoy this little 'quest.'"

There’s another groan from Grim, but you ignore him, keeping your eyes locked on the flustered mess in front of you. Idia’s practically a puddle at this point, cheeks redder than Riddle’s roses, but you know he’s loving every second of it.

“Okay,” he mutters, glancing between you and his tablet. “Okay, I can work with this. Maybe it’s not a total catastrophe. I mean, you’re here, so—wait, does that mean you’re, like… my NPC now?”

You flash him a rogue grin. “If that’s what you want, I’m all yours.”

Idia blinks. Then, with the kind of realization that only a true gamer would have, he straightens up slightly. “I-Is this… the ultimate secret route?!”

"Could be," you say, leaning in closer. "You think you can handle it?"

He stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered beyond belief, but finally, he nods—though it's more of a nervous twitch than anything. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I-I can handle it. This is fine. Totally fine. Just… don’t, uh, don’t go rogue too much? I-I don’t think I can survive if you start rewriting my entire life!”

You laugh. “No promises, player.”

The panic in his eyes is real, but so is the smile slowly creeping onto his face. And as you stand there, facing him in this strange new world, you realize you’re both about to have a lot of fun.

"Welcome to the real game," you whisper, before pulling him into a kiss.

Idia promptly drops his tablet.

Masterlist

[14thgalerie]

the one

• pairing: theodore nott x riddle!reader

• now playing: hayloft by mother mother / you that i want by divine

• word count: 1.7k

• genre: angst, fluff, hint of smut

— short one that i kept thinking of.

Theo slumped in his chair, fatigue weighing heavily on him. The clock on the wall opposite him ticked relentlessly, unforgiving of his sleepless state. He had long abandoned any hope of finding any rest. He hadn’t been able to since that fateful night when everything felt right in his life.

His mind wouldn’t grant him solace. Each time his weary eyelids dared to meet from the pure exhaustion of the stress of OWLS, the ongoing war, his brain kept feeding him images of you. You, who kept haunting him from the very forefront of his mind. 

The natural curve of your eyelashes. The way it fluttered against his cheeks as your lips made a blazing trail across his cheeks. Gentle whispers that drown him in sheer bliss still send shivers down his spine. 

His tie lay abandoned, discarded beside him, next to the pile of papers swept aside in his frustration earlier. The long, emerald fabric had felt too suffocating amidst the overwhelming thoughts of you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you would also be writhing in bed, unable to fall asleep as he does. Would your dreams torment you with the brief time his hands tangled onto your hair, wayward? Does your dormant body spin cruel variations of that time, telling him tantalising tales of what could’ve occurred if only your insufferable blonde companion hadn’t so abruptly interrupted?

He had never loved you.

Not in the way you wanted.

This desire to fill the emptiness in your heart, to have somebody give you the time and day has obscured that truth. A part of you knew, from the very beginning, but this desperation forced you to turn yourself blind.

Draco was there, a constant presence in your life, a perfect match to have by your side. Born only 24 hours apart, and 10 years of your childhood spent solely with him.

In truth, you both used the other, a fact that you ignored. He relied on you for protection and status as your partner, while you clung to him to feel the fleeting sense of warmth. But the perpetual storm of reality always wearing you both down and, you were rapidly losing the strength to keep yourself afloat.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between the both of you as the year progressed and the inevitable return of your father neared. At first, you had both kept your feelings at bay, not wanting this to jeopardise your friendship altogether. But as time went on, it became a routine. Venom spit from raised voices, threats of abandonment and indifference to each other, reconciliation accompanied by hollow promises and sex.

“Are you a bloody fool? She is my best friend and yet again, Draco ‘can’t-keep-his-boxers-on’ Malfoy decided that didn’t matter!” You screamed in frustration, but it didn’t seem to matter when he didn’t even so much as falter at the volume. 

“We aren’t even together, so why should it?” He carelessly replies, an air of indifference surrounding him.

“We aren’t? You truly are an insufferable git, I spent two years committing myself to you, and you never thought to mention that little detail before?” You scoffed, incredulous at the idea. It was foolish and outrageous, and not at all like how the man you know would think. Despite your differences with one another, he would still treat you with at least the respect you give to a friend, but now…

“Oh please! Don’t act as if your mind has not been completely filled with that mindless buffoon.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, do not dare turn this on me…” You challenged him. 

“Or what? Threaten to have your father kill me? Well, surprise, darling, I’m no stranger to that already.” He humorlessly chuckles. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen that god-awful lovesick look on your face at the mere sight of his back. I am not the complete bloody fool you think I am.”

It hurt, truly, despite the fact that this started as a hilarious excuse of a relationship. You cared for Draco and to see him constantly destroy everything and everyone in his path of destruction left you unable to conjure up any more excuses for him.

“I am done, Draco. We can stop whatever awful pretentious act we put ourselves to and live on our own as you seem to hardly care for even yourself anymore these days.” You laugh, defeat etched on your face.

He never gave you the love that you sought, the kind that Theo had laid bare in complete display for you in just under seven minutes in that tiny closet. 

“You came back to me.” He whispers, close enough for his lips to touch the corner of your lips but there’s just a stutter of breath. It makes you want to instinctively kneel and look up to him and beg religiously for mercy, the way he speaks.

“I did.” You reply. Unmoving, but your patience wears thin.

“Look at you,” He mutters, his hand tugging at your head by your hair, exposing your neck to him, and your knees nearly buckle at his breath that burns against your jaw. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re almost like putty in my hands already.”

“Shut it, Nott.” You quickly remark a decision you notably regret when you are left standing in the middle of the room all by yourself. The cold air from the ajar window left your skin tingling with an uncomfortable feeling akin to when Draco touched you in the past weeks.

You scoff, the sound more as if you were nearly pleading. “What are you doing?”

“You know I hate it when you act like a brat.” He inclined his head, and the movement leaves chills running through your spine for the action is almost similar to someone sinister. But weirdly, it makes you want to tease him even more.

“Oh please, Theo. I’m not blind, as if you don’t dream of it.” You slowly approach him, your fingers make a motion of dragging along the ends of the poster beds. “The way I see your eyes tremble when I contradict every single thing you say. I know you are depraved when your thoughts are only of my mouth…”

You hear a sharp intake of breath when you come near. “The way you would just love it if you could shut me up by having my lips wrapped around you. I know you, Theo.”

His lips twitch into a mirthless smile, he reaches almost mindlessly for your collar. His thumb barely touches the skin of your neck. “Yes, you do.”

His eyes are intense as they dart to your mouth. Your tongue unconsciously makes a sweep against your dry lips.

“I suppose Draco will show me exactly how.”

Taking a page of this man’s book is terrifying but you are tired of this game of tug that you keep playing.

“That would be wise. ”

He’s still looking at your lips.

“I’ll go then.” You try again, unwilling to make the move.

“Go on, you won’t hear a sound of protest from me.” But you remain standing in front of him, the will to move weak against the desire to have him.

“Really?”

“No.”

Theo grabs the back of your head, tangled his fingers in your hair, and made a mess of your mouth. With his lips attached to yours, you grab him by his shirt and the both of you kiss as if you were third years again. Your teeth clashed into each other time and time again and you couldn’t find it in you to slow down. 

The need to kiss him, to feel what you’ve been thinking of for several nights on end.  You push back at him, desperate to feel the same hunger and need in him, as he kisses you deeper and more profound than you ever thought possible.

The soft, selfish hands that you wished so badly to wipe clean off the bodies of other women move up from the bottom of your back to move you impossibly closer until you are almost one. His voice is ragged when he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva still connecting you.

He says against your cheek, “I love you. I’d die for you. Nobody can ever give you what I could make the pain go away like I could, not even that dense fuck who has a deeper sense of self-preservation than his parents.”

You swallow, agonised by the sudden slow pace that he moves. Not an ounce of energy dared to waste to defend your ex. “I will love you anywhere.”

You shiver at the raw and pure intensity that laced the declaration. You almost want to ask, to hear how. But you don’t think your mind could properly comprehend the ability to piece together the right words to ask.

His heart is pounding from beneath your fingers as you feel the pulse on his neck, almost leaping it out as if all it wants is for you to finally claim it as yours. Encase it in a glass case and put it on display for all else to see.

“In a bookstore, by the water fountain, the sidewalk, in the flames of your home.” His hands come down to your hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that by morning sunlight, purple will be painted on your skin but it feels so heavenly that you don’t push them away.

“I love you, not for the protection you provide and for your substantial looks, but for all the small things you do that bear your soul to me.” 

Your hands meet around the back of his neck as he carries you by your thighs towards his bed. Pulling at the fabric that keeps him away from you.

“I’ll love you even as you tell me you hate me. I love you enough that I will scour the face of this earth for a place where I can take you away from your nightmares.” 

“I-“ He sighs into your lips, completely delighted by the intimacy that only his mind could conjure up in the lone nights. “I love you.”

You move for the buttons of his polo, while he moves to pull your shirt from you. A race that leaves you both fumbling when you feel his hand carving a path against your waist and up to your chest. You are left scalding, tiny bounces of light flickering in your eyes.

“I will be at your string’s end.”

masterlist

[kayewrite]

blue sticky note (part 2)

OT8 x reader!! stray kids x reader!! word count: 5.9k

stray kids fic wherein, you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note in your binder, but then keep denying it.

AN: i literally love this guys. please tell me your thoughts also im crying.

(part 1 here!!)

Does Bang Chan like you?

Why did he create a song for you?

Your mind raced as you held the blue sticky note, staring at the familiar handwriting that had been haunting your thoughts for days. You replayed the moment when you confronted him, hoping for a straightforward answer.

“Are you the one who put this in my binder?” you had carefully asked, showing him the sticky note that had left you sleepless for nights.

Bang Chan didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something deeper in his gaze. But instead of responding to your question, he gave you a gentle smile, one that made your heart skip a beat.

“Did you know we all made this song?” he said, his voice calm, almost as if he was leading you from the truth you were seeking. “We all helped to do this.”

His words left you more confused than before. What did that even mean? Was it some kind of cryptic message?

“You know what,” he suddenly said, his tone shifting to something more casual, “you should really attend Changbin’s party this weekend. I’ll be the one to pick you up.”

And just like that, he left the studio without waiting for your reply, leaving you standing there with a thousand questions swirling in your mind. The mystery you thought you were close to solving only seemed to deepen, the answers slipping further from your grasp.

You tried to focus on your upcoming presentation in class, but Bang Chan's words and that blue sticky note kept intruding on your thoughts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you wondered why this was all becoming so hard to figure out.

Suddenly, a knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Felix standing there, a soft smile on his face as he greeted you.

“Hi,” he said, holding his favorite yellow plushie—a chicken. “I’m back again.”

You let him in, and without a word, he walked in and instead of heading to the sofa like usual, he went straight to your bedroom and flopped down on your bed..

You followed him, sitting at the edge of the bed as you pulled the blanket over him. You felt a pang of sympathy for your friend. He always seemed so worn out whenever you saw him in the mornings at school, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You knew it must be because of his noisy neighbor.

“I think my neighbor is angry with me,” Felix mumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow.

“Why?” you asked, your voice gentle.

“He only makes noise whenever I’m about to sleep.”

“Maybe we should complain to the landlord,” you suggested, but you knew Felix. He was too kind-hearted to make a fuss about it. He’d rather suffer in silence than cause trouble for someone else.

"I’ve decided I should move out here," he said quietly.

"Really? Finally," you replied, a bit of relief in your voice. You’d wanted someone to share your apartment with for so long. Living alone had become so lonely.

"But I’ll be moving next door," he added.

Oh. That was fine too.

You couldn’t help but smile as you lay down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable, but your thoughts were still tangled up in the mystery of the blue note.

“I think I should talk to someone about this,” you finally said, breaking the silence. The questions were too much for you to keep inside anymore.

“Talk about what?” Felix asked, his voice calm but curious.

“The blue note…” you began, turning your head to look at him. “Do you know who owns it?”

Felix took a deep breath, clearly expecting this conversation. He didn’t answer right away, instead asking, “May I ask you a question? Who do you think owns it?”

“I don’t want to assume anything,” you admitted, “You guys are giving me a hard time. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Felix’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “What would you do if you found out who owned it? Would it change things between you and us?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I see all of you as my brothers. But if it really was one of you… then…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought.

“What if it was all of us?” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“What—” Before you could react, Felix leaned in and pecked your lips, the suddenness of it leaving you frozen.

“Do you know how hard it is?” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “Loving you means risking our whole friendship. But as long as I could hold it in, I thought I should. But right now, I can’t.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. He searched your eyes for a reaction, his heart clearly on the line.

“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly, “when tomorrow comes, forget what I did. And I hope… you’ll forgive me.”

And then, before you could process everything, he claimed your lips again, this time with more urgency, as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

The next morning, you walked to class feeling like you were floating. Felix was already gone when you woke up, leaving behind only a note saying he had to go.

The memory of last night's kiss made your cheeks flush as you touched your lips, but you quickly shook the thought away.

Why does this feel so wrong?

You've been friends with these guys since middle school, and now, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

You slumped into your seat next to Yuji, dropping your head onto your table.

“Girl, you look stressed,” she said, combing her fingers through your hair.

“I know. I think I should just die.”

“No, not yet! We still have that concert to go to, remember? Physics might make you want to drop dead, but focus on the bright side—concert!” Yuji playfully shook your shoulders.

“What concert? Why didn’t you invite me?” Seungmin’s voice interrupted as he approached, handing out papers.

"Oh! it's seungmin." Yuji immediately straightened up, trying to play it cool. “I have two tickets. One for me, and one for her.” She pointed at you with an exaggerated modesty. “But she can always buy new her own, so I’ll give you hers.” She smiled sweetly at Seungmin like a puppy.

Seungmin didn’t even look up as he continued distributing papers. “Never mind. I’ve got plans with her, anyway.”

You blinked, confused. Plans? He hadn’t mentioned anything to you.

“What plans?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s a surprise.” He finally looked up, flashing a small, knowing smile before moving on to the next student.

Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, is there something going on between you two?” she asked, crossing her arms and pouting. “You betrayed me?! I thought you were on Team Seungmin and Yuji!”

You barely registered her words, your mind suddenly flashing back to what Felix said last night.

“What if it was all of us?”

Was there a chance that Seungmin… liked you? Or were they all just playing with your feelings?

The stress of it all made you tug at your hair in frustration. But then you remembered Felix’s kiss, making you feel even more confused.

After class, you were about to leave when Seungmin called out to you.

“Hey,” he said, jogging over. “Let me treat you to the cafeteria.”

Normally, you’d jump at the chance for free food—who wouldn’t? This was just how you and Seungmin usually were. But after everything that happened, you found yourself questioning his intentions.

Still, you plastered on a smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As you both sat down, Seungmin played with his spoon, eyeing his food. “Do you think short hair would suit me?” He ran a hand through his hair, “I’m thinking about getting a haircut.”

You looked at him, trying to picture it. “Honestly? I think everything suits you.”

“Oh really?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if it turns out ugly, I’m blaming you.”

“It won’t,” you assured him. “Promise. Trust me, just imagining it, I think it’ll look great on you. And why would you blame me? I’m not the one asking you to cut it; I already think it’s perfect.”

You forced yourself not to think about what Felix said, focusing on keeping the conversation light and normal, just like always.

“Hey, why are you two eating alone without me?” Changbin suddenly appeared, sliding his tray onto the table like some kind of cool bad boy—though you knew he was a softie at heart.

“Because according to Seungmin, you eat too much,” you teased, even though Seungmin hadn’t actually said that. Changbin shot Seungmin a playful glare, his expression saying, ‘How dare you?’

“Why? It’s true,” Seungmin teased back with a casual shrug.

“Well, it is,” Changbin admitted with a grin. “But do you really think you can get away without buying me food? I put it on your tab at the cashier.”

You laughed, enjoying their playful banter. This is what you wanted to keep, this easy friendship with them. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Hey, don’t laugh! You owe me, too!” Changbin suddenly turned his attention to you.

“What? I don’t remember owing you anything. If anything, you owe me,” you shot back, munching on your food.

“Well, you’re right about that.” He chuckled, then leaned in closer, his tone turning serious. “But you owe me a promise. You have to come to my party. And you too.” referring to Seungmin.

“Tell me why I should attend instead of going to my weekly seminar,” Seungmin challenged, always enjoying a good tease.

“There’ll be lots of food.”

“Valid, but not enough,” Seungmin replied, feigning disinterest.

“I’ll be there,” Changbin said. Seungmin just rolled his eyes before standing up.

“I’m done eating,” he said, grabbing his tray. Then he looked at you, “Finish your food and eat well. I’ll go ahead.”

“What happened to you?” Hyunjin asked, concern etched on his face as he glanced over at you.

You were lying on one of the beds in the school clinic, feeling utterly drained. “I think I’m coming down with a fever. Can you give me some medicine?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar sigh escaping his lips. “Again? Don’t tell me you’re pulling that trick to avoid PE.”

It was Wednesday, and Hyunjin was on clinic duty again. It seemed like every time he was here, you somehow managed to find your way to the clinic as well.

“I just really dislike playing volleyball,” you complained, curling up under the blanket.

“You know it’s part of the curriculum,” Hyunjin said firmly, reaching out to help you sit up. “Now, get up and get moving.”

But you stayed put. “I’m serious this time. My head is pounding.” You pressed your fingers against your temples, trying to relieve the discomfort.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still looked slightly exasperated. “Alright, alright. Just stay here.” He walked over to the medicine cabinet, opening it and rummaging through the various bottles.

You watched him, admiring how he looked in his white lab coat. He seemed so professional and competent, and it made you smile despite your discomfort.

After a moment, Hyunjin returned with a small bottle in hand. “Here, take this.”

You examined the label. “Gummy vitamins? Really?”

Hyunjin grinned. “Yep, gummy medicine. It’s actually quite effective.”

“But… isn’t this for kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re never too old for gummy vitamins,” Hyunjin said with a teasing smirk. He leaned closer and playfully tapped your forehead. “And besides, you’re basically a kid.”

“Ouch!” you said, rubbing your forehead as you accepted the bottle. You popped a gummy into your mouth, making a face as you chewed. The taste was oddly medicinal, and you struggled to hide your reaction.

Hyunjin chuckled, his laughter bright and genuine. “You look like you’re eating something terrible.”

“It’s not as good as the regular gummies,” you said, grimacing slightly. “But I guess it’ll do.”

Hyunjin shook his head, his smile softening. “You really need someone to take care of you. I swear, you can’t even handle a gummy without making a face.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” you insisted, stretching your arms out as if to demonstrate your health. “Look, I’m perfectly okay.”

“Yeah, right,” Hyunjin said, sitting down on the chair next to you. “But even if you can take care of yourself, you don’t need to do it alone. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here to look out for you.”

His words were meant to be comforting, and they were—though they took on a new weight as you recalled what Bang Chan and Felix had said. It suddenly seemed like there might be a deeper layer to Hyunjin’s concern.

You pushed those thoughts aside, forcing a smile. “I’m really glad to have you guys around. It means a lot.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he returned your smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, try to get some rest. You need it.”

“Hey, Han,” you called out as you entered the library, spotting your friend among the sea of students hunched over their books. Probably finished of his schedule in the counter as a librarian assistant.

“Oh, hi!” Han looked up from his desk, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His eyes were bright with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You often wondered how he managed to juggle work, study, and his other responsibilities so effortlessly.

“I finally finished that novel you recommended,” you said, making your way over to his table. “..And it was so boring.”

Han’s eyes widened in mock horror, his hands flying to his chest. “What? Don't do that to my most favorite book!"

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. “Just kidding. It was actually really good.” You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice low but full of mirth, mindful of the quiet atmosphere in the library.

Han let out a relieved sigh and shook his head with a smile. “You almost had me there. What did you think of the ending?”

You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your tone. “I’m still confused. How can the main character like her but never pursue her? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Han’s face took on a look of mild exasperation as he leaned back in his chair. “Did you read it with your whole heart, or were you skimming through it?”

“Of course I read it!” you protested, feeling a bit defensive. “I just didn’t get it.”

Han’s expression softened into a more thoughtful one. “Well, sometimes love isn’t as straightforward as we want it to be. The character had reasons for not pursuing her, even though he wanted to.”

“What reasons?” you asked, genuinely intrigued. You leaned forward, eager for an explanation.

Han sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, can't believe he has to explain it to you. “It’s not always easy to explain. Sometimes, there are external factors, personal struggles, or circumstances beyond our control that affect our decisions.”

“Oh, I see,” you said slowly, trying to digest his explanation. “I still think the ending was a bit of a letdown, though.”

"Me too." Han chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s definitely not the happiest of endings. But that’s what makes it memorable, I guess.”

“So, why is it your favorite if it’s so depressing?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Han hesitated, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared into the distance. “Because…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, leaving you hanging. You could guess what he might mean, understanding more than you let on. Sometimes it was easier to pretend you didn’t get it than to face the deeper implications of his words.

“Why would you need another cat when you already have three?” you asked, following Minho around the animal shelter. The space was filled with the soft meows and playful purrs of the cats, and you tried to keep up with his purposeful stride.

“Having one more won’t make me poor,” Minho replied, his gaze fixed intently on the cats. He seemed completely absorbed in the task of finding the perfect feline companion, his focus unwavering.

You chuckled softly, “Based on your face, you don’t look like someone who’s a father to a bunch of cats.” well he does look like a cat but you'll never tell him that, it might boost his overflowing confidence

“I don’t take opinions from anyone who’s trailing behind me,” Minho said with a smirk, still not turning to look at you.

“Oh, so you brought me here just to hear my complaints?” you sighed dramatically, trailing behind him. The endless walking was starting to wear you out, and you couldn’t help but think about the stack of assignments waiting for you at home.

Suddenly, Minho stopped in front of a white cat who was sitting calmly, watching him with wide, curious eyes. Minho crouched down and began speaking to the cat in a soft, melodic tone that seemed to mimic the cat’s own meows.

“I think I already found it,” Minho said with a satisfied smile, glancing up at you.

Back at the shelter’s counter, Minho was busy with the paperwork, preparing for the adoption. You watched him efficiently handle the forms and place the cat into its carrier. As he completed the final details, he turned to you with a beaming expression.

“Let’s go,” he said cheerfully.

You both headed to his car. Once inside, you buckled up, only for Minho to place the cat carrier on your lap. You opened it gently, letting the cat come out and stretch. Its beautiful white fur was soft and silky under your touch.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking the cat’s fur as she nuzzled closer to you.

“I don’t know,” Minho said, adjusting his seatbelt. “Why don’t you name her?”

"why would I be the one to do that?" you protested,

“Then, I’ll just name her after you,” Minho teased, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh no, don’t do that,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Right? She seems to like it.” Minho chuckled as the cat responded positively to being called by your name. “She’s our daughter now.”

You felt a flutter of surprise at his words, but you tried to keep your emotions in check.

“Well, now you’re officially the baby of our friend group,” you said, hugging the cat gently. The little creature purred contentedly in your arms, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome to the family.”

You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Jeongin. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you fixed your hair a bit and answered.

"Hey, what's up?" you greeted, trying to sound awake as you adjusted the phone to make sure you looked presentable.

"Hey!" Jeongin's cheerful voice came through, though his face was momentarily obscured as he set the phone down. The background of his room appeared on screen: a collection of action figures and band posters. He returned, holding his guitar. "Got a minute? I have a performance evaluation tomorrow, and I was hoping you could listen to my song and give me some feedback."

"Of course," you replied, leaning back against your headboard. "Why me though? You have plenty of musician friends who could help."

Jeongin laughed softly, adjusting the tune on his guitar. "Well, I think I’ll get the most honest comments from you. Han just tells me I sound like bread—whatever that means—and Changbin mostly just laughs at me."

You smiled at his playful tone. "Alright, hit me with it."

With a nod, Jeongin began to strum his guitar and sing. His voice filled the room with a soothing melody, performing Day6's "Afraid." His rendition was as captivating as always.

When he finished, you sighed in appreciation. "That was beautiful. Seriously, the song fits your voice perfectly."

“Really?” Jeongin’s face brightened with a hopeful smile.

You nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up. “Absolutely. You did an amazing job.”

Jeongin chuckled. “The truth is, that wasn’t the song I intended to perform,” he admitted with a playful grin. “but i hope you enjoy that song. It's for you.”

You laughed softly, feeling grateful for the unexpected late-night serenade. “I did. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

You enter Bang Chan’s studio, balancing a coffee cup in one hand. The studio is buzzing with activity, but Chan looks up with a smile as you walk in.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee!” Chan says, taking the cup from you with a grateful grin.

“No problem. I figured you’d need it. I’ve heard you’re practically living here these days,” you tease, slipping into the casual banter you’re used to with him.

“Yeah, it’s the price of fame,” Chan chuckles, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie. “I’m basically a coffee addict now.”

“You’ve always been one. Remember that time you tried to make your own coffee blend and nearly set off the fire alarm?”

Chan laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’m still convinced it was a conspiracy by the coffee machine.”

You laugh along, feeling a comfortable ease in the familiar exchange. “So, are you busy today? Or can you spare a few minutes?”

“Earlier, I was buried in work, but now I’m taking a break. What’s up?” Chan asks, settling into his chair.

You nod, setting your coffee down on a nearby table. “I actually came to talk. And, well, I left my glasses here the other day.”

Chan raises an eyebrow playfully. “So it’s a dual-purpose visit: coffee delivery and a retrieval mission?”

“Exactly. I’m multitasking,” you reply with a wink.

“Impressive. I’d expect nothing less from you,” Chan says, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

You take a deep breath, shifting your focus from the lightheartedness to a more serious tone. “You know, Chan, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About everything that’s been happening with us.”

Chan’s expression shifts to a more serious one, sensing the change in tone. “Go on.”

“You know I’m always proud of you and everything you’ve achieved,” you begin, your voice softening. “And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But lately, I’ve been worried. I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have.”

Chan looks at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I just hoped that everything you’ve said, and everything I thought, is wrong,” you continue. “I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you guys.”

Chan’s smile is gentle but sad. “You know, now that everyone likes you?”

You look down, fiddling with your coffee cup. “Well, I hope it’s because you all care for me as a friend and not something more.”

Chan’s eyes are filled with a warmth that both comforts and troubles you. “You’ve always been special to us. And we’re okay if you have to choose one of us. We promise it won’t ruin anything.”

“I don’t want to choose any of you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re all special to me.”

It was Changbin's birthday, and you were carefully wrapping the gift you had bought for him—a watch. You knew it wasn’t as extravagant as the ones he usually wore, but it was thoughtful and sincere, a gesture from a poor uni student to a friend who seemed to have everything. Still, you hoped he would appreciate the sentiment.

A knock on your door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. You were expecting Chan, who had offered to pick you up for the party, so you hurried to answer the door.

But it wasn’t Chan.

“Hey.” Felix stood there, a small, familiar smile on his lips. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, especially after everything that had happened between you two in the past few days. You had promised yourself to forget about it, to push those feelings away, but seeing him now made it all come rushing back.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Felix greeted you, his voice as smooth as ever. He looked effortlessly handsome in his suit, his charm radiating as always.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You appreciated the compliment, but there was an undeniable awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. “You look great too.”

Felix chuckled softly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked away. “I try,” he said, his tone light, but you could hear the underlying edge to it. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing your bag. “Chan’s waiting downstairs.”

Together, you walked down to the first floor, where Chan’s car was parked outside. He rolled down the window as you approached, flashing you both a bright smile. “Finally! I was about to start the party without you guys,” he joked.

“Wouldn’t be much of a party without the birthday gift,” you teased back, holding up the wrapped box.

Chan laughed, unlocking the doors. “Get in, then. Can’t have you showing up without it.”

In the car, the three of you quickly fell into easy conversation, laughing about inside jokes and reminiscing about old memories.

“So, what did you get Changbin?” Felix asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“It’s just a watch,” you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nothing fancy.”

Felix shook his head. “It’s the thought that counts. He’ll love it.”

You smiled at his reassurance, but the heavy tension lingered, especially with Felix sitting so close to you. You could feel his presence, his warmth, but there was a wall between you—one neither of you seemed ready to address.

As the conversation continued, you found yourself getting lost in the sound of Chan’s voice, trying to push away the awkwardness. But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the moment, you couldn’t shake the heaviness in the air.

Finally, you arrived at the party. The venue was stunning, elegant in every way. All your friends were already there, looking beautiful and sophisticated in their formal attire. As soon as you entered, they complimented you, making you feel like you belonged in that glamorous setting, even if you often doubted it yourself.

Yuji, who had also been invited, greeted you with a warm hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!” she gushed, her eyes wide with excitement as she took in the atmosphere. “This party is insane, right?”

“Yeah, it’s something else,” you agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “You look great too, by the way.”

She grinned, doing a little twirl. “Thanks! I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

The party began, and you found yourself seated at a table with your friends. Minho, who had always been obvious about his feelings for you, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin whispered in your ear.

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jeongin didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Just let me know if you need anything,”

You smiled gratefully at him, though the tension between the table was palpable, and you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze even more acutely.

Then there was Han, who had always been more subtle about his feelings. He had never made it obvious, but tonight, when the air began to cool, he quietly draped his coat over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so.

“Thanks, Han,” you said, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“No problem,” he replied, his voice low and warm. “Can’t have you freezing out here.”

As the evening went on, the program began, and Seungmin took the stage to offer a song. His voice was beautiful, capturing everyone’s attention as he sang. But as he performed, your heart began to race. He kept looking at you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel both flustered and vulnerable.

Yuji, sitting nearby, was practically glowing with happiness. She leaned in close, whispering, “I think this song is for me!”

You forced a smile, unable to bring yourself to tell her otherwise. “Maybe,” you replied, but your heart knew better.

Hyunjin, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on the tension in the air. He observed quietly, his sharp eyes darting between you and the others, before taking a long sip of his wine. “Quite the night, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Then, out of nowhere, Changbin appeared at your table. His face lit up when he saw you, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy.

You laughed softly, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Everyone at the table watched the interaction closely, some with smiles, others with unreadable expressions. But as you stood there, enveloped in Changbin’s embrace, a strange feeling crept into your chest.

And in that moment, you realized that perhaps it was better not to know. Ignorance, as they say, might be bliss.

As the night deepened, the more you wanted to go home. It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your friends—quite the opposite—but with the tension growing thicker by the minute, you’d rather be curled up under your blanket, away from the chaos.

You were about to take another sip of your wine when a hand gently stopped you.

"You should stop drinking. You shouldn't get drunk," Han said, his voice soft but firm. He took your glass and, without hesitation, drank it himself.

The loud music continued to play in the background, filling the air with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the underlying tension. Everyone else was getting more and more absorbed in their drinks, except you—Han never let you have another sip.

"Hey, do you want me to sing a song on stage?" a voice asked, leaning close to you to be heard over the music. You turned to find Jeongin grinning at you.

You laughed, feeling a bit lighter in his presence. "Why would you ask for my permission? You should go up there and do what you want. I'm just here to support you."

Jeongin nodded, his smile growing wider. "That's the reason I like you." He stood up from his chair, leaving you momentarily stunned by his words.

As the seat beside you became vacant, Seungmin slipped into it, his presence bringing a different kind of tension. He smiled at you, his eyes soft and warm as he said, "You look beautiful tonight." Then, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he added with a slightly slurred voice, "You know, I realized I should have kept you to myself."

You went quiet, not sure how to respond. Seungmin had been the reason you met all of his friends, the one who had introduced you into this complicated circle. Now, his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

He rested his hand on the back of your chair, and you let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off what he said by teasing him instead.

"Hey, Seungmin!" Felix called out, drawing everyone's attention. He smirked as he teased, "That song you sang earlier—it didn't sound like a birthday song at all. Are you sure you weren’t serenading Changbin?"

Seungmin, who was still looking at you, replied without missing a beat, "Well, it wasn't for him."

The tension at the table thickened, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Hyunjin, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Changbin, you were the one who put the note, right?”

It was the question you were asking, but then you suddenly don't want to know the answer now.

Changbin, who had been busy entertaining guests earlier and was visibly tired, looked up with a blank expression. “Yeah, that was me,” he admitted, his voice flat.

Minho scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. “That was weak, Changbin,” he remarked, his tone dripping with disdain.

You could sense the unease building, the tension wrapping around you like a vice. Jeongin returned, plopping down in the seat Seungmin had vacated, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the heaviness in the air. “The band didn’t want to let me sing,” Jeongin said with a laugh, though even he seemed to feel the strain. “I think Changbin didn’t let me.”

“Well, it’s true. I put it in there,” Changbin confessed again, this time with more emphasis. He looked at you, his gaze heavy, and you realized how exhausted you were by this whole ordeal.

Chan, ever the mature one, noticed the growing tension and tried to intervene, but before he could speak, Felix’s voice rang out. “I kissed her.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything that had been said all night. The atmosphere at the table grew unbearably thick, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Yuji had left earlier, and suddenly, you wished you had gone with her.

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I… I need to go to the bathroom,” you muttered, not waiting for a response as you made your way through the crowd, your steps unsteady.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your heart pounding in your chest. This couldn’t go on. You had to do something before everything fell apart, before you lost the friendships that meant so much to you.

Determined, you took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be pulled into a dark corner. Before you could react, Minho’s lips were on yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with emotions you didn’t want to face. You pushed him away, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Minho, stop!” you cried, your voice breaking. Minho stepped back, his expression one of shock and regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to…”

Without another word, you turned and hurried back to the table, grabbing your bag as everyone’s eyes followed your every move. “I’m going home,” you announced, your voice steadier than you felt. Chan offered to drive you, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine.” You left before anyone could argue, the night air cold against your skin as you flagged down a taxi.

As the car sped away, tears streamed down your face, each one heavy with the realization you had been avoiding all night. You knew why you were crying, why you wanted to run away. Because deep down..

you already knew who you wanted to choose. But the thought of hurting the others, of breaking the delicate balance between you all, was too much to bear.

-

an: who do you want to choose?

@hpnsfwaddict @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @tonkatesuramen @spearbinnie0327 @leezanetheofficial @furioussheepluminary