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skzhua · 3 days ago

Text

episode 1.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.5k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings.

summary: the first day back, and you already find yourself into a whirlwind of emotions, mainly caused by one guy you had been dreading to see for weeks.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

The holiday season was, by far, the time of the year you were the happiest. The music, the activities, the food, the people you'd spend that time with... That was the problem this year.

Getting to know Min Ho's mother was a blessing in itself. She welcomed you in her home with open arms — although she wasn't home often — and was nothing but a sweetheart to you. While the first days you spent in L.A. were close to what some would call the dream, you didn't love it so much. The people, who were far too superficial to your liking, and the house — being seven times bigger than your place in Korea — were two factors that totally removed the holiday spirit.

The third one would be Min Ho.

"Are you here yet?" you heard from your phone.

Three weeks had gone by since the incident, which meant that school was starting again. In your opinion, the winter break should have lasted much longer than this. Not only because you were dreading the amount of schoolwork you would get, but also because you knew there would be faces you just weren't ready to see again.

"I just got in the taxi," you chuckled as an answer. "Did you save me a bed?"

"I did, but your room won't be with me and Juliana," Yuri informed you, a glint of guilt in her voice.

"Don't worry, as long as we have a dorm together."

You kept chatting for a bit until the car pulled in front of KISS. Your aunt turned around to face you from the driving seat, and you could see the worry on her face. While she had made sure to take care of you the best she could, you weren't doing any better. You knew she couldn't help but feel like it was her fault.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Yuri."

"I'm glad she is around. At least, you'll have someone to lean on."

You scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter or a daily therapist."

"Just," she breathed out. "Try to enjoy yourself. Like before, don't hesitate to stop by my office if you need anything. Your uncle is also there if you-"

"Thanks," you said dryly, hurrying yourself to get out the car.

It felt both strange and familiar being back here. With a sigh, you gathered your luggage and began to head towards the entrance. It wasn't long until you were engulfed into a hug, one so warm that it wasn't hard to guess who it was.

"Get off," you whined jokingly.

"I didn't see you for a month, let me be clingy for a day, will you?" Q argued as he let go. "Did you get taller?"

You rolled your eyes. "A month isn't that long!"

"Can you just let me be sweet and tell you I missed you? Jeez, I forgot how grumpy you could be..."

You smacked his arm lightly, finally letting a laugh out. "Fine, I did miss you too."

"Knew it," he smiled satisfactorily. His eyes were quick to shift from you to something behind you — or rather someone. "Look who's back!"

Turning around, it took you a second to spot Kitty discuss with Professor Lee — now Principal Lee for obvious reasons — and Alex. Q didn't skip a beat in abandoning you to run towards Kitty. In his defence, he was most likely the one who was most excited to see Kitty when it was made known that Yuri brought her back to KISS. You wouldn't admit it out-loud but she truly was one of the few people you were looking forward to see again.

"Holy shit! There's my chaos queen!" Q almost screamed before hugging Kitty, definitely tighter than with you.

Kitty squealed as they reunited. "Dude, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too," he squealed back.

This was definitely a show for you to see as you slowly made your way to join the pair. Kitty finally saw you and hugged you just about the same, blabbering about how she couldn't believe she was back to see Q and you again. The excitement in her died down quickly, though, as she remembered she was next to Principal Lee.

"Also, so happy to share with you both how serious I'm going to take my classes this year at KISS."

You held back a giggle. "Right, yes!"

"That's literally what we've been saying this whole time," Q added, playing along.

A call interrupted Principal Lee's watch party which allowed both of your friends to squeal once more, much to your ears' demise.

"We have so much to talk-" Kitty began to say, only for Alex to cut the conversation short.

"Dad's been feeling a little bit stressed," he informed, something you found so odd to come out of his mouth. "I've been staying with him over the break. We're in, like, some hilarious buddy comedy."

As much as you appreciated Alex, you wanted nothing more but to be elsewhere at this exact moment. Not that you weren't glad he was getting to spend time with his father, but the way he was telling you about it was almost... cringe? (No, it definitely was.)

"Alex!" Principal Lee called out.

"Yeah, I'm coming! I'd better go," he said as he began to walk away. "Kitty, I'm really happy you're back."

Kitty responded with a warm smile. "Thanks. Me too."

Once Alex left, Q helped Kitty get her luggage while you tried to somehow make your two traveling bags work, stacking one on top of another.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Kitty laughed.

"Maybe I need a hand?" you smiled awkwardly, looking at Q specifically.

"Give me your bag already."

The three of you finally walked into the campus, as many other students did the same. The breath smelled like home, but the ambiance had a twinge of foreign energy. Maybe they changed the decoration. Maybe you had to get used to seeing younger new students everywhere. Maybe there was a little something you were still not ready to confront and being back didn't help...

"Crap, I wanted to ask Lee about that Simon guy from my mom's letter," Kitty said, disappointed a bit.

"You have all semester to find Simon," Q stated.

Kitty shook her head. "No, I am done wasting time. At home everyone was asking me questions. Lara Jean, Margot and even Peter because he practically lives at our house on school breaks."

And that was also what you did for an entire week of your school break. You won't do the same mistake again, that's for sure.

"They wanted to know what I learned about my mom," she continued. "How my Korean was... And I realized, I hadn't really learn anything about my mom. Like, not actually. And I almost flunked out. My Hangul sucks... So this semester, it's Kitty 2.0. I'm living in a single, I'm going to be single."

You really did forget how much of a yapper she was. It might be annoying at times but you were thankful she was there to fill in the lack of interaction on your part. For some reason, the ground was much more interesting, so were the trees. Since when were there that many trees on campus? Were they always there?

"I think it's kind of a shame to be swearing off love right after you discover you're bi," Q sighed.

"No, I didn't say I'd be a monk, okay?" Kitty defended. "I want to try dating girls."

Well, that was always an option for you to discover too, if some things were to happen. By things, you meant one, really.

"But maybe someone outside my direct friend group. Less potential for drama."

Sometimes, it is worth it to listen entirely to what Kitty had to say. Most of the time, her struggles didn't apply to you. On that case, however, this was a good plan: not date in your friend group. Easy, no? You won't do the mistake again.

"But," Q sighed again. "Can you really be over Yuri already? I mean, she got you back into KISS."

"Lara Jean convinced me to write a goodbye letter to Yuri," Kitty answered, as if she had been prepared for any scenario. You wished she could give you some of that energy. "Just like she did for all the boys she loved. And I brought that letter with me so I can reread it in case I find myself slipping into old habits. You know that you can write one for Florian, and you can write one for Min Ho."

You raised an eyebrow as to tell her you would never, but this was something to consider. At this point, if it wasn't obvious already, you were doing everything you could to forget about your ex-boyfriend.

Q, as for him, shook his head. "Actually, Florian made it really easy to get over him by being a lying, cheating dumbass that almost cost Dae his scholarship."

"You did the right thing, turning him in," Kitty said with an approving nod.

"I also didn't mean to trigger an investigation that caused a bunch of other students to be expelled too," Q said along with a chuckle to hide his discomfort. "I guess we're both chaos queens."

"Clearly, Y/N isn't."

You shot your head up at the mention of your name, looking at the two in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet," Kitty asked, concern in her voice.

"I-" you began only for Q to cut you off.

"Oh, look. There are the boys," he gestured right in front of you three. "Dae! Min Ho!"

The said-boys had just picked their coffee order as they spotted Q calling them out, spotting Kitty and you as well in the process. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world stopped, but not in a good way. For what felt like minutes, Min Ho and you held eye contact. You tried to decipher what his eyes were telling you; was he sad? Mad? Scared? You weren't sure. He had always been good at hiding how he was truly feeling. What you knew was that you certainly weren't feeling so good. Seeing him after things fell apart was like a knife stabbing you in an already opened wound. At the same time, your body was almost being pulled to his... You wondered if he was feeling the same.

You saw him gulp before he broke your staring session, pulling Dae away from your sight with him. It was a matter of seconds before you couldn't see either of them.

"That was weird, right?" Q said, confusion spread onto his face. "What was that about?"

"Oh, they probably just didn't see us," Kitty tried to shrug it off but Q didn't buy it.

"No, they definitely saw us."

"I'll go find my room," you muttered, wanting nothing but to leave.

"Yeah, I'll do the same! I'll see you at the assembly."

He gave you both a look but didn't insist on it. "All right," he sighed, giving you back your bag.

"Thank you," you smiled as you and Kitty change directions, now walking towards the girls dormitories.

"You saved me, there," Kitty thanked you.

"Saved us both, you mean," you corrected.

"Right, I keep forgetting. It's just, it was going so well between you two. It's still surreal to me that it didn't work out."

You scoffed. "Blame Min Ho for that."

"I just wish you didn't have to go through this alone."

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, though she probably could tell you were hiding your pain.

"If you need anything, my door is always open! Speaking of..." she said as you arrived at her dorm.

As soon as she tapped her key card on the sensor, the door flew open, revealing Yuri in all of her glory. You quickly put two and two together, concluding this was also your dorm and that you would share it with Kitty, Yuri and Juliana. That's something you were comfortable with. As for Kitty, her face told you she didn't have the same thoughts as you.

"Kitty, I missed you so much!" Yuri exclaimed, hugging her tightly at the same time. "And Y/N!" she said, hugging you too. "You've been sobbing on your own for too long. I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You laughed slightly. "It's good to see you, Yuri."

She went for another hug with Kitty, who told her she missed her just the same while her face remained as shocked.

"I thought about you all break, and I was so excited you were coming back," Yuri said.

"Me too," Kitty answered. "And I only got to come back because of you."

"And now," she started, looking at the two of you. "We get to live together?" she said with amazement, earning a confused look frim Kitty.

"What? I signed up for a single. There must be a mistake."

"This is not a mistake. This is fate," Yuri affirmed with conviction.

"What's that about fate?" someone behind Yuri, who could only be Juliana, asked.

"Hey, Kitty. I'm Juliana. Oh, hey, Y/N'" she waved at you before focusing back on Kitty. "It's nice to finally met the girl that helped me and Yuri get back together."

Yuri agreed happily. "Can you believe this? The four of us are roomates? A dream come true. Especially with you," she nudged your arm. "It'll do you some good, I promise."

"Thanks, Yuri," you said gratefully. "Shall we come in?"

"Oh my, yes, of course!" Yuri exclaimed before making way for you and Kitty to come inside.

The dorm was slightly different than last year. While all the furniture looked rather similar, the arrangement of the rooms were different. There was a room with two beds, which was obviously taken by the couple given their clothes were already in the process of being transferred into the closets. The other room had a bunk bed and a single on on the other side of the room. With the number of students increasing each year, it made sense that the room had an additional resident.

As you settled slowly but surely, you all refrouped around the kitchen counter, taking the moment to, again, rejoice about your reunion.

"Wow! This... I didn't... Wow!" Kitty stammered and it took everything in you to not react to her clumsy behaviour

"I think Kitty's at a loss for words," Juliana chuckled and you allowed yourself to copy her.

"I had no idea you were staying on campus this semester," Kitty said to Yuri.

"Oh. Last-minute decision. I had to get out of my parents' place," she sighed, pouring herself some tea in the process. "Bad vibes there... They're getting divorced."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed.

You made your way around the kitchen counter, putting your hand on your friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry! You should have told me, I would have been there for you."

She shrugged. "It's fine, you weren't exactly able to help be with it, anyway... Honestly, it should have happened years ago. Now, my mom's in Thailand, off the grid at some wellness center, rejuvenating."

There was a small knot forming in your guts as the guilt for not being as available as usual spread in you. Nonetheless, she did send a smirk your way as to show she wasn't that mad. A relief.

"But let's talk about how much fun we're gonna have living together! I can't wait for you three to get to know each other." she said enthusiastically before turning to her girlfriend.

Kitty's emotions were very clear in her face. Panic, discomfort, and hurt. To save her from making it even more obvious to the girls about her crush, you nudged her arm which seemed to bring her back from her headspace.

"Hello?" a voice called out at the entrance. Seconds later, a girl walked in, bringing with her a few suitcases. "Hi, I'm Stella. Stella Cho. Give me one second... This place is like twelve times bigger than my old school," she muttered as she caught her breath.

You exchanged looks with Kitty before focusing back on the girl.

"And, here is the last roomate," you greeted her kindly. "I'm Y/N. And this is Juliana, her girlfriend Yuri-"

"Wow," she breathed out, looking at the couple. "They let you guys live together?"

Yuri shook her head. "They don't know. If they did, they wouldn't let us live together."

"And there's a rumor going around that they're implementing room checks every single night, so we have to be extra careful," Juliana added.

"Well, my lips are sealed!"

"Oh, and I'm Kitty," your friend pitched in. "You can bunk with me and Y/N."

"Oh, cool! Um, can one of you show me how to get to the administration office? I still have to register‐"

"Yes, I can show you. Right now," Kitty offered, a bit too fast in your opinion. "If you don't sign up ASAP, you'll end up with the worst professors, so let's go."

"Wait, wait," Yuri stopped them."Before you go, we are planning a fun group barbecue dinner tonight, on me. Are you guys in? 7:00 p.m.?"

"Of course I'm in," you cheered.

Stella's eyes grew bigger, so did her smile. "Are you kidding? I would love that."

"Uh..." Kitty started and you knew it would be, yet, another poor attempt at excusing herself. "Dang. I wish I could, but I promised my sisters that I would FaceTime them and tell them about the first day back, so..."

Juliana's eyebrow went up. "Won't it be like 2:00 a.m. in Portland?"

Kitty smiled awkwardly. "Indeed, it will be. Yes. Good point. Well, I'm... I'm in. " She turned to Stella, pushing her towards the door. "Let's leave right now."

"They're in," Juliana repeated before walking up to the refrigerator.

Yuri gave you a look. "Is she okay?"

You shrugged. "Kitty? She's always like that."

"I guess I just forgot. She didn't exactly reach out to me during the break. Speaking of which, you also sort of disappeared after the break up."

Your shoulders dropped. "I don't want to get into it."

"You've been saying this for a month! I really think talking about what happened to a friend will help you deal with your emotions."

Something you noticed since the previous semester was that you struggled much more with opening up than you thought. With Min Ho, you started to think you could finally reveal yourself fully to people. However, he quickly made you move three steps back from the improvement you made. Especially in terms of your parents.

"He cheated?"

A small laugh left your lips. "He did not. He... He crashed out, basically."

"In English, please! I want to help too," Juliana joined in, already chewing her granola bar.

You took a deep breath before jumping into the story of how things unfolded. "The first two or three days were fine. I was mostly staying at the house, to be honest. Min Ho was out clubbing, that night. I didn't go, I was too tired. His mom had just left for some meeting and she still wasn't back. Anyway, when he got back, I don't know what took over him. He said some unclear stuff about me ruining everything." You stopped for a second to recollect your emotions as you felt the tears at the brim of your eyes. "He blamed me for his mom leaving him again. When I tried to resonate with him, he burst out by saying I couldn't understand him since I didn't have parents."

Yuri took your hand, rubbing the top of it with her thumb. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even wait until morning to leave. I packed, booked a last-minute flight, and left." You paused. "What hurt the most is that he didn't even apologize. And he didn't try to stop me from leaving. It's like he had no remorse."

"It's Min Ho," Juliana said. "He has no consideration for people other than himself."

"I would argue with that," Yuri disagreed. "But yes, this was a dick move."

You could feel your breath get caught in your throat, which was a sign for you to stop talking about it. "Anyway, should we go to the assembly? We wouldn't want to be late."

And with that, you picked up your purse and headed straight out of the dorm, leaving the two girls with nothing but worry about you.

"Students, please take your seats so we can begin!" Principal Lim spoke up on stage, waiting a few seconds for students to quiet down. "Thank you. Students, faculty, and distinguished board of directors, welcome to spring semester at the Korean Independent School of Seoul..."

"How long is this going to last?" Juliana whined.

"Knowing him, hours probably," you answered only to be responded by a groan. "Complain all you want but I haven't seen the one person I'm avoiding, so I'm pretty glad we're in it for hours."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'd take this over facing Min Ho any day."

Yuri sent a look your way. "You do know you will have to face him one way or another, right?"

"And I'll do everything to push that moment as far as I can."

"Well..."

You knew that tone too well. "Yuri," you said in a warning voice.

"He'll be there tonight..."

"Yuri," you repeated, a bit louder this time.

"I didn't know he was that much of a jerk to you!"

You crossed your arms on your chest, not wanting to continue this conversation. It was evident that what happened would affect the friend group. You just didn't expect it to be so soon. And, of course, who were you to make your friends choose between Min Ho and you? After all, you hadn't reacted so well to Min Ho's outburst. As much as he insulted you, you had your fair share of names you called him: spoiled, entitled, narcissist, obnoxious, fake... You hadn't been much of an angel either.

"Moving on to point number four," Lee continued as you focused back on his announcement. "Nightly curfew checks for all dormitory students."

Your two friends grunted at the statement, rolling their eyes as well. Their annoyance did not last long as club music began to blast within the entire auditorium before the lights shut off. The doors suddenly flew open revealing Young Moon, also famously known as your ex-boyfriend's father. With back up dancers following him, he trotted all the way to the stage with a confidence that Min Ho definitely inherited. An entrance that was television worthy let's say.

"Are you ready, Korean Independent School of Seoul?"

Choreography, flashy smiles, interaction with the crowd... You were starting to wonder if you were at school or at a concert for a second. A few more dance moves, and the music finally died down, leaving a stressed Principal Lee on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Moon spoke in the microphone. "It is time to shoot for the moon and..."

"Lang amongst the stars!" the majority of the students continued in shouts.

"You heard it here first," he kept talking. "Moon Management is launching a performing arts program that will make your school the envy of the entire world. And just maybe one of you will be my next superstar."

The crowd cheered once more. Meanwhile, to say you were thrilled would be a lie. Min Ho told you how his father really was. This, it was for show and show only. Looking around at the students who were screaming still, your heart stopped when you saw him again, leaning on a wall at the back of the room. His face had no expression, meaning he was deeply unimpressed with how his father was acting on the other side of the auditorium. He hadn't changed much, you noticed. His hair still fell perfectly on his face; his jawline was still sharper than a knife; his lips seemed even softer than you remembered it... You looked elsewhere before your body would do something out of your control, like walk up to him.

"I'm thinking this blazer," Kitty showed you.

"Cute," you smiled.

Stella, for her part, took a crocheted sweater out of her suitcase. "And I think this is cute, no?"

"With the dress, it's perfect," you approved but Stella could only frown.

"Are you not coming?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a pretty long day."

Your friend, stubborn like she is, shook her head in disapproval before pulling out a knitted cropped shirt with elongated black pants from the drawer you had previously filled that morning. "You're coming with us, and you're wearing this."

"I love you, and I like your enthusiasm, but no."

"Y/N, it's my second chance at studying here. If I can finally be with all my friends again on the first day, I want you there with me. It won't be the same otherwise."

Her little pouty face was enough for you to suck it up and agree to come along.

An hour later, and the five roommates were walking together to the barbecue restaurant that Yuri picked out. In the end, Kitty was right and taking some fresh air with your friends was probably what you needed. And so what if you met Min Ho? You could always ignore him.

"Kitty!"

All of your eyes turned to the voice and you found Dae. As sweet-looking as he is, he happily hugged Kitty before finally seeing you were there too, embracing you as well.

"It's so good to see you," Kitty exclaimed, all giddy and shit. "I'm so sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier."

"Right, speaking of which..." he started and then turned to you. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Me?" you asked, mostly surprised.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you talk to Min Ho?"

"Dae-"

"He's mad that his dad is here, but I feel like he's also upset about... you know. I think he wants to go over what happened with you, but he's not brave enough to do so. Besides, I feel like he is still upset because of me. I went a bit crazy accusing him and I hate thinking it might have ruined our, but also your relationship."

"You had nothing to do with it, I promise. And..." You stopped to glance at him for a moment. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

Him and Kitty didn't waste a second to leave you some space as they joined your other friends who were already chatting in front of the restaurant's door. You broke your focus on them to bring it to the back of Min Ho's head. Fiddling with your fingers, you hesitated. But then, you couldn't let Dae down. And maybe you couldn't let yourself get away from the opportunity to speak on the fact.

"Min Ho!"

As soon as he turned around, it was that same feeling you'd been having every time you saw his face today. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn't. Not only that, but his perfect features reminded of better days, something you were still secretly holding onto.

"Walk with me?"

As soon as the words left your mouth, a small smile appeared on his face. Silently, he left the others to join your side and you began to stroll around mindlessly. It reminded you a little too much of other nights like these. You hoped he could see how much energy you were putting into not accidentally grabbing his hand.

"I-" he tried to say but stopped himself. "When you left, there was this voice in my head telling me to go after you."

"But you didn't."

He let a breath out. "I didn't think you'd want to talk after-"

"I know," you exhaled. "But I wanted you to. And when you didn't even try to stop me, let alone apologize, it... It broke my heart ten times more."

"I don't want to hear it... How much I hurt you, I mean. I was an idiot, I was drunk, and I was mad at life."

"As you always are, just saying."

He rolled his eyes but you both found the humor in it as small smiles appeared on your faces. "I'm truly sorry about what I said. I did not mean any of it."

"And I'm sorry for accusing you of being things that you aren't. Clearly, I was mad at life too."

"You were mad at me," he corrected.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah."

A blush appeared on his cheeks. Oh, how much you missed having this much effect on him.

"I'm not saying I want this to-"

"Of course not-"

"I still think you're an ass."

"And I still think you're annoying."

"It was a way for the universe to tell us this was not worth it."

"Yeah, who were we to think it would work out in the first place?"

"We were idiots."

"Yeah."

A silence settled between the two of you. For a minute or so, neither looked at each other and you even thought he didn't allow himself to breathe so he wouldn't make a sound. Finally, you decided to speak up.

"But you did smile," you said in the smallest voice possible.

"I'm sorry?" he leaned down to hear you better.

"When I implied just now that you were my life, you smiled. So, why did you if you supposedly believe we were stupid to think we were a match?" you asked in a challenging voice.

You could see in his eyes that it awoke something in him, a playful side of him that you hadn't seen in what felt like years.

"That was a grimace, puppy."

You shut your eyes in annoyance. "Oh gosh, you're still as much of a dick as I remember."

He smirked. "You remember my dick, uh?"

"Moon Min Ho, I swear to God, I will-"

"Guys?" You fucking thanked Dae mentally. "Our table's ready." He looked between you two, unsure if your conversation had turned on the negative or positive side. "All good?"

"Yeah," Min Ho answered. "Just telling Y/N how happy I am I won't have to be her servant by making her coffee every morning again."

You shook your head in disapproval. "Hmm, and I was telling him how great it is to not be living with a control freak who protects his skin care products like it's his children."

Dae laughed, seeing it was pure harmless bickering. "I see."

He went in, and the two of you followed behind closely. Yuri made the reservation, meaning there was more than enough room to fit the entire group. You were about 10 people in total and, in all honesty, it felt great to not be alone for once. Sure, one of the people was your ex, but at least you cleared the air a bit. As you sat down, you introduced Stella to Min Ho, figuring she would appreciate not getting left out for being the new girl. The three of you chattered for a while and it was incredible to you how you were so at ease with Min Ho around compared to earlier that day.

Yuri then made a toast, stopping everyone from talking. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you all had a great break. Mine was kind of a mixed bag, to be honest." All of your breaks were one hell of a ride, you thought. " But the thing that kept me going was knowing that, no matter how messed up my family is, and they can be very very messed up..." This earned a mutual chuckle. "They're not my only family. I made a little family of my own here last semester. So this dinner is really to say thank you to all of you here. Cheers!"

You collectively clang your glasses together, and it took you no time to dig in your plates. You hadn't had bibimbap in a while so you didn't stop yourself from stuffing your mouth.

"Want mine?" Min Ho offered, almost in a mocking way.

"You've seen me in worse states," you grumbled, food still in your mouth.

"No really," he insisted, putting the one he grabbed for himself in front of you. "Take it."

"Y/N?"

Your head shot from your phone to Stella. "Oh, hey Stella! What's up?"

"I noticed how you tried to make me feel included with introducing to people, like Min Ho. You two are friends, right?"

"More or less..." you answered carefully, unsure on where this was going.

She took a step closer, eyes on the floor. "Well, I think he's really cute, and we were talking a lot at dinner and... I think I'm gonna ask him out!"

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 2 days ago

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ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇs ᴏғ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ

ʙʀᴜᴄᴇ ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ x ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I keep seeing neglected reader on my tags so I just wanted join in 🤗

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

The Batcave was eerily quiet, the usual hum of machinery and the occasional rustle of paperwork replaced by the soft sound of a child’s muted whimpers. Bruce stood in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the small form curled up on the couch, barely visible beneath the pile of blankets and pillows. The child, no longer the one he'd once pushed aside, seemed to exist in a world far beyond his reach.

His heart clenched when they shifted, those silent tears that fell like raindrops that he'd never quite been able to catch. He hated that he couldn't fix what he'd broken, no matter how hard he tried. All the wealth, all the power, none of it could mend the distance he'd created. But now, in this cavernous space where shadows ruled and secrets whispered, Bruce was trapped in his regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice softer than he'd ever let it be before, as he approached the couch, bending down to meet their eyes.

Reader's gaze was fixed elsewhere, lost in the memories that lingered like ghostly echoes. A broken sigh left their lips. Bruce had made mistakes, but this—their distance—was one he could never bridge with words alone.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” they murmured, their voice almost inaudible beneath the weight of the years. “Nothing will change it now.��

They curled deeper into themselves, the soft rustle of fabric only adding to the bitter silence. Bruce frowned but kept his distance. His hands twitched with the desire to reach out, to hold them close, but he was well aware that doing so would only bring more pain. The walls they'd built were taller now, sharper. There was no way in.

It hadn’t always been this way, of course. Once, they had trusted him—believed in him as a father, as the man who could protect them from anything. But those days had been forgotten in the cruel labyrinth of his own failure. He'd seen it, watched them grow from afar, sure that his way of loving them—distant, reserved, and ever cautious—was enough. But he hadn’t realized that love was not a thing to be claimed, a thing to be controlled. It was something to nurture, to build, to protect with patience and understanding. Something he'd lacked.

He took a step forward. “I know I failed you,” he said, but this time there was no deflection. The words were heavy, real. “But I am trying to make it right, and I’ll keep trying. You don’t have to be alone.”

The words fell like a hollow echo in the stillness of the cave. Reader shifted, pulling the blankets tighter around them. There was a coldness in their gaze when they finally looked up at him.

“I don’t need you now. I didn’t need you then,” they whispered, their voice steady but laced with a bitterness that cut deep. “I had another family… one that didn’t abandon me.”

Bruce’s breath hitched, the pain of the truth settling deep in his chest. The weight of their words pressed against him like a thousand stones, heavier than any enemy he'd ever faced.

"Don't say that," he murmured, his hand reaching for them, but they pulled away, the rejection too swift, too sharp. The distance between them seemed vast, a gulf that no gesture could cross. "I know I made mistakes... but I’m here now. You’re not alone anymore."

They stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing every word he'd spoken, every action he'd taken. They’d been so small when he'd first met them, so innocent in their trust. He thought back to the days when their laughter had filled the Manor, when they'd looked at him like he was their world. It felt like someone else’s life now, a time when he wasn’t as broken as he was now.

“I miss my dad,” [name] said softly, so quietly that it almost seemed like a plea. Their eyes were distant, lost in memories Bruce would never be able to share. “I miss the family that actually cared about me.”

Bruce’s hand faltered, falling to his side as the weight of those words crushed him. They were right. He hadn’t been a father to them, not in the way they needed. His life, wrapped up in Gotham’s shadows and the endless pursuit of justice, had left no room for the most important thing: them.

A wave of guilt surged through him, drowning out everything else. "I’m here, baby girl," he whispered, though he knew how hollow it sounded. There was no magic in those words anymore. They had no weight, no warmth. Just the coldness of regret.

[Name] didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge his words. Their gaze was elsewhere—lost to the past, to the family they had once known, the family who had cared for them when he couldn’t. The emptiness in their eyes spoke volumes, far more than any word could.

"I never needed you to come back," they said quietly, as if the words were simply a fact now, not an accusation. "I survived without you."

Bruce stood there, struck mute by the truth of it. The echoes of his failures rang louder than anything else. All the money, the power, the endless resources of the Wayne family had never mattered when it came to the one thing that would have truly made a difference: love. The kind of love that nurtured, protected, and understood.

He didn’t know how much time passed before they spoke again, but the silence stretched on like a wound that refused to heal.

"I don’t want your pity," they murmured, their voice so small that it cut him to the core. “You can’t fix me now. You can’t fix this.”

Their words were quiet, but they were final. The finality of it hit Bruce harder than any punch. He had been a hero to Gotham, had saved lives, had put down enemies. But when it came to the one thing that mattered most, he had failed utterly.

They were slipping away from him, even now. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Bruce stepped back, the weight of the truth settling into the hollow space between them. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel that emptiness, to understand just how much he had lost. He had missed out on a life that could have been, a life he could have shared with them if only he had been there.

He swallowed hard and turned, the overwhelming weight of regret pulling him deeper into the shadows.

"I’m sorry," he repeated, even though he knew it would never be enough.

But the words hung in the air like a fragile thing, doomed to fade before it could truly be heard.

And [name]? They simply lay there, wrapped in their own world—a world Bruce could never return to.

#yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere batboys #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #😻– one shot

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junipers-popatochisps · 3 days ago

Text

Oo thank you for the tag!

I've been tagged in this before but it was for my other blog hehe

So originally it was just "popatochisps" as a reference to Undertale because I love Undertale

Then after I made my art blog I added "Junipers' " in front of it, because mutuals kept getting confused and thinking I don't follow them!!

(For those who don't have side blogs, when you make a side blog you can only post there and comment and reblog with that blog, and only can like, follow and send asks though your main blog)

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

#tag game

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finelinevogue · 1 day ago

Note

Hi babe! I absolutely love your work and read it everyday! Do you think you could do a blurb where its aaron x bau reader and the reader has a toxic/abusive family and hotch and the team find out about it on a case or something (angst but turns into fluff)? I LOVE YOUUU!!!

family is everything

hiya my lovely!! love you too :(( oh stop you’re far too kind omg 🥺 of course i can give this a go - hurt/comfort fics >>>

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

word count - +5.4k

cw: pre-established relationship, bad coping methods, mentions of childhood abuse, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Spencer was performing one of his magic tricks.

He had captivated the audience of more than half of the room, much to Hotch’s dismay.

“And this gets you girls?” Morgan questioned, perched on the corner of the desk adjacent to Spencer - which happened to be yours. “How?!”

You laughed along with the others as you spun yourself side-to-side in your office chair.

“It’s all in the mystery, my sweet one.” Garcia pinched Morgan’s cheeks. She was the only one who could get away with it.

“Oh I can do mystery.” Morgan added.

“But can you do… magic?” Reid asked as he ended the magic trick by holding out the correct card that Morgan had picked earlier.

“What?!”

“Yes Reid!”

“Pfft.. Whatever.”

Everyone started clearing away from Spencer’s desk, Morgan walking away with a sulk. Garcia lingered by Morgan’s desk no doubt attempting to cheer him up with her endless flirting.

When you’d joined the BAU you had seriously thought they were together.

Why wouldn’t you?

They constantly flirt. They’re almost crude with each other. Yet they had never even entertained the idea of being with each other.

It didn’t matter to you whether they were single or not though, because your heart was slowly being given over to someone else. Someone who happened to be your Unit Chief; Aaron Hotchner.

The relationship was still very new.

Your team knew about it, but it was still being kept quiet. That was just you and Aaron, though. You didn’t feel the need to be flashy with your relationship. In fact, you enjoyed living with each other in those quieter moments because it meant you had each other all to yourself.

It was that moment that you found yourself looking up to his office.

Aaron happened to walk out of his office at that exact moment, reading a case file in his hands.

You bit down on the pen you were holding as you watched him walk past, eyeing him up because you could now without consequence.

Aaron didn’t return the look but you did notice the smirk as he walked down the ramp towards the briefing room. It was like he could tell that you were looking at him. That made you smile, turning around in your chair to hide the blush from anyone.

"Think we've got a case?" Reid asked you.

"Probably. It's been at least two days since our last."

Both you and Reid stand up, prompting the others on your team to do the same. You as a team of profilers had gotten so used to what it looked like before a case was briefed that you just knew now, before JJ could even call you in.

JJ, Hotch and Rossi are all in the room already.

The case files were set out on the table - one at each seat. JJ had the screen set up ready to present and Hotch and Rossi were already looking through their files.

You sat down on the chair next to Hotch. They had kind of become your unofficial assigned seats.

"Okay JJ." Hotch nodded.

"We got a call from San Fransisco Police Department after a string of murders have been loosely tied together."

"Loosely?" Emily questioned.

"Several domestic abuse victims have been found murdered. Isla Hubert was strangled, Beth Fountain stabbed and Meredith Cole shot."

JJ flicked through the pictures of the women and you could feel your face go pale at the sight.

Your breathing hitched, but luckily nobody noticed.

Your hands scrunched up into fists so tight that your nails were digging into the skin of your palm. It was the only way to cope with this situation without drawing attention to yourself.

You focused as much on JJ presenting as possible.

"At first it was hard for the police to put them together since M.O.s were so different with each murder - hence, loosely - but after they looked more closely it turns out that each of the victims had recently left an abusive relationship."

"Suggests a possible revenge-motivated unsub." Reid added.

"Yeah." JJ nodded.

"How did the PD make the connection?" Morgan asked.

"All of the victims were women who had either filed restraining orders and, or had sought help from a domestic violence shelter." JJ switched the image on the screen to the shelter.

You looked down at your lap, your fists still enclosed.

You were normally very collected when cases were presented, but it was really hard with this one.

Not only is San Fransisco the city you grew up in, it also hosted that very domestic violence shelter that you used to go to every day.

It made you feel sick, because had this unsub been around ten years ago then that could have very well been you up there on the presenting screen.

<.><.>

You were gathering your stuff up on your desk when Aaron came over to you.

"Hey." You tried to smile but Aaron knew you better.

"Something's bothering you, so rather than have me tiptoeing around it I'm asking you to tell me what's wrong."

He sure doesn't beat around the bush.

Even though this case is horrendous for you, it did warm your heart a little to know that Aaron knew you so well only after a couple months of dating. Maybe it was the profiler in him, but you chose to believe it was simply because he cared about you.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Every man should know that when a woman says she's fine... she's not. Aaron did know that but he also knew not to push it right now.

"Okay."

After you stuffed your water bottle in your bag, Aaron caught your hand with his. He carefully opened your palm. You could feel the panic in your chest as he did so.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

He pointed out the crescent moon shapes you'd imprinted on your palms from your finger nails. He wiped his thumb over the skin as if they would magically just disappear. He probably wanted to kiss over them, but you knew he'd never do that in front of everyone here.

You couldn't answer verbally so you nodded your head instead.

<.><.>

Rossi and Hotch were the last in the room before leaving.

They both left and locked their offices at the same time. Both of them had their coat and bag hanging off an arm.

"Hotch."

"Yeah?"

"Y/N..."

"I know." Hotch cut his friend off before he could finish the sentence, already having an inkling of what he was going to say and not knowing whether her could stomach hearing it being said out loud.

<.><.>

On the plane there was more time for a brief.

You were sat leaning against a window at the table with four chairs, listening carefully to what was being said but making no effort to contribute.

"So there were no signs of sexual assault?" Emily asked.

"No." JJ shook her head.

"Well that eliminates some motives." Rossi said.

"Such as?" Garcia asked through the video call.

"Well we know he's not a sexual sadist now. It's almost like whatever he is doing is because he believes it's right. It's the only way." Reid explained.

You swallowed back the growing lump in the back of your throat as the team continued to talk.

The situation almost felt dissociative. You were physically here and physically involved and yet your brain kept trying to zone out of the conversation.

You looked out the window just as a memory flashed.

You laid on the floor of your bedroom - a room that was supposed to be yours and supposed to be safe. You had been sleeping when he had come in.

The door was wide open because you hadn't found the strength to stand back up again since he'd been in.

Your pyjamas were long length and yet you felt completely exposed. Tears fell down your cheeks as you stared up at the glowing stars on your ceiling, imagining a world where you could visit them right now. A world that was a little more silent and a little bit brighter.

All you could hear though was his voice saying, "I have to. It's the only way you'll ever learn."

"...And Y/N and Reid, you work on the geographical profile. Hopefully we can narrow down where these victims are being taken from." Hotch's voice brought you back from the memory.

You had clearly missed a lot of the conversation but no one pointed that out for the rest of the flight.

<.><.>

San Fransisco was just as dull as you remember it.

A lot of people who lived here, commuted through here or even visited here would think quite the opposite, but when a bad thing has happened to you in a certain place then that place becomes unworthy of its beauty.

As you continued to get set up in the police station Hotch asked you to step aside for a minute to talk to him.

You both stood in the cold and dark interrogation room so you could speak privately.

Your arms were folded over your body defensively as you stood waiting for Hotch to talk.

"Y/N, if this case it too much for you then..."

"Too much?" You chuckled, "Why would it be too much for me?"

Hotch sighed, "I don't know."

"Exactly Agent Hotchner, you don't know." You uncrossed your arms and walked towards the door - done with this conversation.

Aaron knew not to touch you in order to catch your attention, so instead he stepped in front of the door so you had no exit.

"Hey, don't do that." He said softly and you knew he was referring to the way you had called his name.

He had never really been Agent Hotchner, or SSA Hotchner, to you. He'd only been Aaron or recently in the quiet of your homes it had turned into a loving 'honey' or 'love'.

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you had put there.

"I'm fine." You repeated, feeling like you might be sick over saying those words again and again.

You thought you truly had been fine.

For the longest time all of this had been buried deep within you. Your job was so busy and hectic that you never really had the opportunity to think about your past. You had also been fortunate that there had been no domestic abuse cases so far in your year working for the BAU.

Yet it was all flooding back now you did have this case. Your mind was constantly active with the haunted memories of your past.

Memories that you were too afraid to speak out loud.

"Okay, but if I think for a moment that you aren't capable I will pull you from this case." Hotch said seriously. He was done playing nice.

"That won't be necessary. I am more than capable."

Hotch looked at you for a moment and saw the challenge in your eyes. However, he could also see the emotion deep within them like there was a part of you that was screaming to be let out.

"Morgan and I are going to the women's shelter. You and Emily can interview the families of the victims."

Your heart stopped a little. You're sure that your eyes must have given you away as you lost eye contact with Hotch to try and keep composure.

"I thought I was with Reid?" You asked.

"Not anymore. Families are coming in in half an hour." He said before leaving the room, leaving you in there with the door open.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself.

You wiped under your eyes before any tears could run. Messy mascara wasn't something you wanted to explain today. You let out a shaky breath, trying to not let it sound too loud. The last thing you wanted was to attract unnecessary attention.

You were fine, after all.

<.><.>

"Mr and Mrs Cole. Thank you for being here." Emily started off the interview.

Mrs Cole was crying. Mr Cole was not.

In your eyes that told you everything you needed to know. Unfortunately you couldn't claim you knew anything without sufficient evidence. Evidence that the team was looking for now.

"I can't believe my baby is gone." Mrs Cole cried, sniffling into a tissue that you had provided for her.

"I know this is hard Mrs Cole," You said, empathising with her more than she could know, "But if you could both help us answer some questions it could be really helpful in helping find out who did this to your daughter."

"Okay." She nodded.

"What kind of person was Meredith growing up?" Emily asked, wanting to know what kind of childhood Meredith had.

"She was always so bright. She just wanted to be happy." Mrs Cole answered shakily.

Mr Cole scoffed and looked off to the side.

"Something to add Mr Cole?" Emily prompted.

"What my wife means to say is, Meredith was difficult."

Your mind alerted you then. You knew what was meant for a daughter who was deemed as difficult by her father.

Your fingers clenched to dig your nails into your palm but the second you did Aaron's face came across your view.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

You could still feel the brush of his thumb across your skin. His warms hands against your cold ones. His soft touch the lightest you had ever felt from a man.

Your hand unclenched, resting them on the table instead.

Emily had been carefully watching you, having been asked by Hotch to keep on eye on you. Your near slip-up didn't cause any interruption to the interview and Emily took the lead to continue.

"We understand that Meredith recently left her relationship with Adam. Do you know why?" She asked.

Mrs Cole looked nervously at her husband.

He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "She was always so dramatic. I mean, every couple fights but that doesn’t mean you throw everything away."

You took note of how Mr Cole minimised the abuse that Meredith was clearly receiving.

"Did Meredith ever tell you that Adam hurt her?" You asked.

Mrs Cole sniffled but it was Mr Cole that answered, "She exaggerated things."

"So you’re saying she lied?" You prompted, seeing how twitchy Mr Cole was getting in the metal chair.

"She always wanted attention." He said.

That's what they all say but really the attention was just another way of saying they were looking for somebody to give them a way out. They were desperate for someone to see them and know that they weren't safe - that they needed saving.

Lots of women can't save themselves and the ones that do are never safe again.

"Did she ever come to either of you for help?" Emily asked.

Mrs Cole nodded, "She… Meredith wanted to leave so many times, but she didn’t think she could. She was scared."

"Scared of him?" Emily said encouragingly.

It was only a small gesture but both you and Emily caught the small glance that Mrs Cole gave her husband.

If it wasn't clear to you before then it was ridiculously clear now what had happened.

"Of everything."

"Or scared that no one would believe her?" You muttered to Emily. She nodded in agreement.

Mr Cole must have heard though because he angrily slammed his hands on to the table. It took absolutely everything in your professional career to not flinch. The loud noise caused your heartbeat to skyrocket.

This is not him. This is not before. You kept reminding yourself.

"What exactly are you implying?" He shouted defensively.

"Robert..." Mrs Cole tried to calm him.

"No! What are you saying?"

You and Emily looked at each other and you gave her a nod to signal she could continue this, even though it was you that taunted him.

"Mr Cole. When your daughter was younger, was she ever worried about her current or future. relationships?"

"I raised her to be tough. Not weak." He spat.

You were curled up in a ball on your bed. The room stank of ammonia thanks to your nervous tics and the fact he had walked through the door angrily.

You had run away from an argument downstairs but he had caught up to you.

"You need to learn to be tough, child. I didn't raise you to be this weak."

The room went quiet for a moment. Only the sound of Mrs Cole's sniffles filled the room.

Mr Cole's words sparked the last question you wanted to ask.

"You didn’t believe her, did you?" You asked.

"She made her own choices." Mr Cole said.

You promptly stood up from your chair, "And now she’s dead."

Mrs Cole burst out crying as you spoke, but you charged out of the room before you could console her. She knew anyway. She knew what her husband was doing to her daughter and still she did absolutely nothing, either because she was terrified or she simply didn't care.

But she was just a child.

You were just a child.

<.><.>

The bathroom was as depressing as the rest of the police station.

You had needed a moment to collect yourself.

Interviewing someone who had these whacked beliefs about raising children triggered you in a way you didn't think possible.

The way Mr Cole spoke was chilling and it made you remember all those dark nights when you didn't think you'd ever be loved again. In fact, back then, you don't reckon you knew what love was.

Your grip on the bathroom counter tightened as you tried to ground yourself.

You were so in your own head this whole case and you hadn't caught who was responsible yet. This case was only going to become more triggering as you went along and as you potentially uncovered more bodies.

Right when you felt like you might just let every emotion out Emily opened the bathroom door, you leant back off the counter and tried to look composed.

"Just wanted to let you know that the team's back. Oh and there's someone here who wants to speak to you." She gave you a small smile.

"Okay, thanks." You smiled back and it felt like the fakest thing in the world.

<.><.>

The last thing you expected when you returned to the main area of the police station was to see your father.

Your footsteps halted, like you couldn't physically move any closer towards him.

The rest of the room kept carrying on like normal, but you felt your words completely dry up and your hands begin to shake. You tried to process all the questions you had for him being here all at once.

"Y/N!" He raised his arms out like he was ready for a hug but you stepped back, knocking your hip into the corner of a desk in panic.

The rest of the team watched the situation before them.

They'd never seen you look so lost.

“There you are!” He smiled but you heard the venom behind each word. He was putting on his charm in front of all these people, but really he restraining himself from showing his true colours.

"W-what are you doing here?" You asked.

He scoffed like that was a silly question, “It’s been a long time.”

You can feel the weight of people's eyes on you. Other agents. Cops. The team. Aaron. The last one makes you nervous.

You have an inkling that Aaron knows something and yet you have never managed to tell him. Aaron makes you feel safe like no one ever has, but you still can't find the courage to speak up. You're also worried what he might do should he find out.

This doesn't need to become a thing. You don't want to become one of the teams victims.

So you tried to take control of the situation for once, "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, please leave. We have work to do.”

"I just wanted to check on you.” Your father's jaw clenched as he spoke.

Check on you? After all these years of no contact?

You didn't want him checking up on you. You didn't want him anywhere near you.

After all these years you still feel trapped near him - even when he's not touching you.

Aaron must have been watching closely, because he could tell that you were done with this situation but it was clear your father wasn't. It didn't take a profiler to work out the cause of that tension. Aaron needed the situation handled before anyone could do anything - his own fists were readying to swing should your father take one step out of line.

"She's asked you to leave, Sir." Aaron said stoicly.

You could feel Aaron right next to you, arms crossed over his chest to make himself look more dominant. Your father was only small anyways, but next to Aaron he was nothing.

Your father looked between you and Aaron, chuckling to himself.

"You Y/N's boyfriend then?" Your father asked.

You stiffened next to Aaron, your palms flexing as you tried to remember Aaron's words from earlier.

"Aaron Hotchner." He gave your dad a small nod.

You noticed how Aaron didn't flex his credentials. It was a classic profilers move of undermining the man who thought he was in charge, because then they never really know what to expect.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised.” Your father chuckled. “Never figured Y/N would be the type to get involved with someone like you.”

Aaron's facial expression didn't change. In fact, if anything, he looked a little more pissed off.

Your mind was trying to get you to choose between fight or flight. Normally you would fight, but having your dad so near really triggered your flight response. So you tried to cut the tension and deescalate the situation. before anyone got more hotheaded.

Although seeing Hotch punch your father would feel pretty good.

"Okay. I think we're done here."

Your father shrugged, raising his hands in defence, “Watch your tone. There's no need to get upset. I'll go.” He said, making it seem like you were being the unreasonable one.

Your father's words and the way you immediately shut down after he said them were a dead giveaway to your past.

It was impossible to hide it.

And for the first time in your relationship with Aaron, you felt exposed.

This was part of your story - part of you - that you never wanted him to have to see. Aaron had far too many of his own demons to suddenly take on yours as well.

Your father makes the effort to walk towards the main door, but not before stopping to speak again. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

He was baiting you.

“Still running. Still pretending. Does he even know?” He continued.

His words made you look towards Aaron and it hurt to see him look so angry. Was he upset that you had hid something so personal and traumatic from him? Would this alter your relationship?

You turned to look at the rest of your team too. Emily looked heartbroken. Morgan looked angry. Reid looked so sad. You were making your favourite people feel sad.

Your own eyes welled with tears as you thought about all the people that you were hurting by just being here.

Aaron had clocked on from even before the briefing of this case that something that happened in your childhood. He just didn't think it was as sick and as twisted as this.

Aaron watched your head dip, your fists scrunch in the way he hated to see and your lips continuously mouthing; 'I'm sorry'.

How on God's Earth could you ever think you had something to apologise for?

“That’s enough." Aaron's voice cut through the room, making you look up at him with fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. You knew all too well what that man who called himself your father could do. Rossi had been more of a father in a year than you actual father had in ever.

Your dad turned and smiled. He'd won.

Your darkest secret was out in the open and your father didn't care if he was taken down with it. The heartbroken look on your face would last him a lifetime.

You couldn't breathe.

Even after all these years your father had still had a hold over you and he could still win. He could still make you feel worthless with a simple few words. That's all he needed.

The tears fell over your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Policemen were watching your breakdown and your team looked as heartbroken as you felt.

You felt disgusting, crying over your own self when you were supposedly on a case to save other people like you. This time wasn't meant to be about you and yet somehow it now was.

You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to hold back a verbal sob.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Watching to see you break down into nothing.

You couldn't do this. You never wanted it to be like this. You thought you were stronger than this.

Saying nothing more, you excused yourself politely and ran out of the room towards the back of the station - far, far, away from your father. But far, far, away would never be far enough.

<.><.>

Hotch hadn't moved.

He stood his ground as he watched your father - that piece of scum - chuckle once you'd fled the room.

"Get. Out." Hotch gritted out through his teeth.

Your father nodded.

Morgan moved closer to your father, looking at Hotch briefly to silently tell his boss that he had this handled and that you would need him more than he was needed here right now.

Hotch nodded, but not before getting one good last look at your father's face here. The next time he would see his face was going to be when Hotch put him behind bars.

<.><.>

Aaron found you out the back of the precinct.

You had one hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, the other holding yourself against the cold wall for support.

Your crying was calmer now but the tears still fell.

You turned to face Aaron when he walked out of the door. You tried to stand taller, pulling your shirt down to fit properly.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean for that to happen.” You sniffled, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek.

"Don't apologise."

"N-no. I should’ve handled it better. Shit." Your voice was so shaky that Aaron was surprised you could even speak.

"Sweetheart, no."

You should’ve controlled the situation better.

“This isn’t on you.” Aaron reminder you gently.

“Everyone looked so—Aaron, I just made everything worse.” You said as you remembered how the team looked and how you could taken emotional control of an already vulnerable case. It was unprofessional.

"This isn’t on you.” He repeated. “None of us are upset with you. We're devastated for you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but that felt too hard to accept.

You shook your head as you tried to calm down the tears and hiccups that were reappearing.

"Honey... Listen to me and listen carefully. Nothing that just happened was because of you. Nothing that has happened was because of you." Aaron took a step closer to you.

"But, he..."

"Ssh, ssh. Listen." Aaron said softly, close enough to reach out for your hands now. "Hey, look at me."

When his hands touched you, you became completely grounded. You felt like you were right here instead of back there. Aaron was right in front of you and he wasn't running away. He was right there.

"You're still here." You said through a hiccup of tears.

"Of course I am." He said with a frown.

"I thought you-you'd leave, o-or not want me and..."

"Stop that. No. I don't mean to cut you off but I won't have you convincing yourself that I'm not anything but with you for the long haul, okay?" Aaron was so close now, linking his fingers through yours so that he could help you release all the anger from your fists.

"That first day you came into the BAU I was so low. I was. And I felt like you had been sent to our team not only to fix our capacity issues but also to... to fix me. I felt, for so long, like I had lost a part of me and yet the minute you walked through those doors... Well, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That the part of me returned." Aaron's fingers squeezed yours to continue to ground you, "So if you think for one moment that I'm letting you slip away from me, with that part of me, so easily... Well I'm not even entertaining the idea." He gave you a smirk.

"So we're okay?" You asked for reassurance. Aaron was more than happy to give it to you.

"We're okay." He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a little while to keep you close.

Aaron had noticed you pushing him away all day, so to have this time right now to be close with you was something he wasn't giving up so easily.

You were too busy embracing Aaron's touch to realise he was holding back tears of his own.

<.><.>

Both you and Aarons stood out back for another ten minutes or so, just talking through everything.

You didn't want to go into any details with him right now, but you did admit what your father used to do to you when you were a child and why this case hit far too close to home for you.

Aaron almost berated you for being so careless with your own emotions and mental state, but thought now was not the best time for that conversation. Instead he filled his talk with comforting and reassuring words. He had to make sure that you felt safe again.

He also promised to make your father's life a living hell - in whatever capacity legal...

That sort of terrified you but also made you feel a little lighter.

Morgan opened the door out back soon after, smiling at the way you and Hotch were holding hands and comforting one another.

"Hey. We got a call off the anonymous tip line. Girl called Sheree Rockstead called in to say that she's noticed some guy following her around the past few days. She's also just got out of a violent relationship and she's attending the women's shelter. She's seen the news and is worried."

"It's definitely our guy." Hotch said, not breaking his hand holding with you. "Let's set up an evac. plan. for Sheree and a trap for our unsub."

"You got it." Morgan nodded before leaving again.

Aaron turned back to you warily. You gave him a half smile in return.

"I'm going to stay here." You said.

"Okay." Aaron nodded. He would've benched you anyways if you demanded on going, knowing that field work was not the right thing for you right now.

"Be safe. Please."

"You too."

"Aaron..."

"I know. I'll be safe, I promise. Just want to make sure you are too. I mean if your father comes back when I'm not there I..."

"He won't." You shook your head. "Plus Reid can fight him off."

"Reid?"

"He has magic, after all." You laughed and Aaron had never been so happy to hear something in all his existence. His only hope was that he could continue hearing it with every day he had left.

<.><.>

On the way home on the jet everyone had passed out asleep other than you and Aaron.

There was still too much to talk about.

You had made your own announcement to the team about your past - a more revised version than what you would be telling Aaron - because you thought it was important for them to know.

Morgan threatened to become an undercover spy and "beat his ass" - his words. Hotch threatened to give him a pysch test if he kept throwing those words around, so he shut up - but only when his boss was present.

Garcia tracked down your father's whole life and it turned out he was drowning in debt and your mother had left him. His life was pretty crap and that made you feel really good.

Aaron, though, he had been a crutch for you throughout.

You were so lucky to have him.

But he would say he was luckier to have you.

And that would be the only competition that you and Aaron would ever have.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #bau #bau fic #criminal minds fic

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magical-reid · 3 days ago

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A New Hope

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Popular!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: After Stiles unexpectedly scores the game-winning goal in a crucial lacrosse match, his reputation at school shifts, and your friends start pushing you toward him as a potential date. What starts as a reluctant agreement leads to a surprisingly fun evening, where you discover Stiles' sweet, genuine side, and before you know it, you're seriously considering a second date with the awkward yet endearing boy.

The roar of the Beacon Hills High crowd was deafening, the stands alive with the kind of energy only a last-minute victory could bring. The lacrosse team had done the impossible—beating Devenford Prep in the final seconds. But the biggest shock of the night wasn’t the win.

It was who had secured it.

Stiles Stilinski.

The guy who spent more time warming the bench than actually playing had somehow been in the right place at the right time, scoring the game-winning goal. As the team hoisted him onto their shoulders and the crowd erupted in cheers, you stood on the sidelines with your friends, more baffled than anything else.

“Stiles Stilinski?” you muttered under your breath. “Seriously?”

But over the next few days, the school seemed to be collectively rewriting its perception of him. Suddenly, he wasn’t just the “weird” kid who couldn’t stop talking or tripping over his own feet. He was the underdog hero, the quirky player who’d saved the day.

That was how you found yourself sitting at your usual lunch table, staring blankly at Lydia Martin as she grinned at you like she’d just hatched a foolproof plan.

“Okay, hear me out,” Lydia began, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You and Stiles. It’s perfect.”

You blinked, fork hovering over your salad. “Come again?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Lydia said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You and Stiles. A date. Trust me—it’ll be fun.”

You frowned, shaking your head. “Lydia, he’s… not really my type.”

Lydia’s grin didn’t falter for a second. “You don’t have a type. And Stiles is sweet. Funny. Smart.”

“And kind of adorable,” Allison chimed in, smiling. “In that awkward-but-endearing way.”

“He’s also the weird kid who used to do that thing with the Jello during lunch,” you reminded them, raising an eyebrow.

Lydia waved a dismissive hand. “That was, like, freshman year. He’s changed. And honestly? You need someone who’ll actually treat you well. Stiles is exactly that kind of guy.”

“And if I say no?” you challenged, though your tone lacked conviction.

“Then I’ll remind you that I covered for you during that Chem lab incident,” Lydia said sweetly, her smile sharp. “Remember?”

You sighed. “Fine. One date. One.”

The day of the date came faster than you’d expected, and before you knew it, Stiles was pulling into your driveway in his blue Jeep. You hesitated before climbing in, giving yourself a mental pep talk. This was just a group hangout. You could survive one night.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles greeted when you got in, his nervous smile immediately betraying how much this meant to him. “You, uh… you look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied, startled by the sincerity in his tone.

The drive to the diner was mostly quiet, though Stiles kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe you were there. When you arrived, the rest of the group was already waiting at a booth near the back.

“Hey, you two!” Lydia greeted cheerfully, sliding over to make room.

You took the seat next to her, and Stiles sat across from you, flanked by Scott and Jackson. It wasn’t long before the group began its obvious—and borderline embarrassing—campaign to talk Stiles up.

“He’s basically the reason we won the game,” Scott said casually, nudging Stiles with his elbow.

“Not to mention he’s got this, like, weird savant thing with math,” Allison added.

“And he’s surprisingly good at trivia,” Lydia said. “He’s the reason we didn’t lose that trivia night at Jungle.”

Stiles was practically squirming in his seat, his cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. You leaned back, taking it all in with a raised eyebrow. “You guys are really going all in on this, huh?”

Lydia grinned. “Just trying to make sure you know what a catch he is.”

For his part, Stiles seemed determined to live up to their praise. He opened every door for you, pulled out your chair before you could even reach for it, and insisted on paying for your milkshake—despite your protests.

“You really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly, holding his ground. “It’s… I don’t know. The right thing to do?”

His earnestness caught you off guard. Most guys you hung out with didn’t bother with stuff like this, let alone insist on it.

At some point during the night, Lydia grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the bathroom, Allison and another girl following close behind.

“So?” Lydia asked the moment the door shut. “What do you think?”

You crossed your arms, shrugging like it was no big deal. “What do I think about what?”

“About Stiles,” Allison clarified, leaning against the counter. “You’re, like, actually having fun, right?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t lie,” Lydia interrupted. “You were smiling when he told that ridiculous story about Scott falling off the roof. And you’ve been laughing at his jokes.”

“I smile all the time,” you argued weakly, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Not like this,” Lydia said knowingly. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I—” You hesitated, looking between the girls as they stared you down. “He’s… different. I didn’t expect this.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

You bit your lip, unable to answer.

Back at the table, Stiles was in the middle of an animated Star Wars discussion with Scott and Jackson.

“And, like, there’s no way anyone can say Greedo shot first. It’s just—”

“Actually,” you interrupted, your voice cutting through the chatter, “the debate exists because Lucas changed it in the Special Edition. In the original 1977 release, Han shot first. That’s why people were so mad.”

The table went silent.

Every head turned toward you, and Stiles stared at you like you’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery.

“You… know that?” he asked, his voice almost reverent.

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the attention. “What? Just because I don’t wear a Star Wars shirt doesn’t mean I don’t know stuff.”

Stiles blinked, then blurted out, “Marry me.”

The table erupted into laughter, but you couldn’t stop looking at him—or the way his face lit up when you smiled back.

“Maybe ask me on a second date first,” you teased.

The grin that spread across his face made it clear: he absolutely would.

Part 2

#magical-reid #self insert #reader insert #fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski self insert #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski reader insert

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nothoughtsjustficrecs · 3 hours ago

Text

This was genuinely so cute; I adored reading it. I love sassy little kid characters too, so the niece is an added bonus atop sweetheart Vernon.

Thank you for writing this precious little story and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]

“ They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. ” getting distracted is so relatable of them. But this is also just really cute 🥺

“ "Stay in character!" your niece complained. ” yeah, Vernon, damn, stay in character

“ Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.

"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand. ” I love her

“ For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together. ” we love a cool, calm headed fella

“ "Am I not pretty?" ” the prettiest

title: Stay in Character! pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, warnings: reader has a sister with a kid, mentions of childbirth, mentions of stress, anxiety over moving in with a partner synopsis: You're on the verge of panicking - you still have moving boxes to pack and move into your boyfriend's apartment, but you can't leave the fact that your sister is giving birth to her second child while you're babysitting her first. However, your stress slowly dissipates when you walk into your cluttered kitchen and see your boyfriend playing pretend with your niece. wordcount: 5.9k

rating: PG 15

a/n: i keep wanting to write soft fluffy vernon blurbs idk what's happening

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bumbling sounds from your tiny kitchen caught your attention as soon as you got out of the phone call with your sister's husband. Once one anxious thought was gone, another one appeared out of the blue - what were they doing in there? They weren't messing with the boxes, were they? You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough for you to have an interaction without yelling.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.

Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.

"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"

"We're just-"

"Stay in character!" your niece complained.

Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.

"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.

"Gummy worm?" he asked.

"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."

You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.

"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.

She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.

"She's a little director," Vernon said.

"She is," you murmured.

He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.

"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.

"Thank you."

"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."

"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."

Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.

"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"

After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.

"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"

Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.

"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"

As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

feedback is always appreciated!♡

taglist: svt taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom, @kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1

#the k fic collection review #chee chats about; stay in character by idyllic-ghost #svt rec #svt fanfic #f: seventeen #p: chwe hansol x reader #g: fluff #g: established relationship #r: sfw #wc: up to 5k

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yelenasdiary · 3 days ago

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Another little au prompt!! Its more about Nat and Wanda tho. When Wanda goes through her mind during ultron, she sees the trauma of the red room but then the delight of her being a mother. Some cute angst/fluff when they talk about it at the tower later when Wanda joins up?

Breaking The Ice

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff Mentions of Nat x Daughter! Reader.

Summary: Wanda breaks the ice with Nat and apologizes for the events that took place at the HYDRA base.

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room & Pregnancy, Nat being under Wanda’s magic | 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this!! I love this idea so much!! I wanna say Reader is 3 years old here, sorry it’s not hella long! I hope you enjoy! x

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

It’s been a week since the Avengers attacked the HYDRA base in Sokovia, Natasha wanted nothing more than to go home and see her little girl but the endless mission reports and follow ups were stopping her from leaving. Laura was looking after you while Natasha was working, she called once a day whenever she could just to hear your mumbles of words or your adorable giggles. It gave your mother a peace of mind that she would be home soon, and that you were in the safest hands possible.

Natasha was just starting to file some paperwork when Wanda knocked softly on the door. The red head struggled to even look at the now new member of the Avengers, after what she did to Nat at the base, she didn’t trust Wanda even for a second.

“Can I help you?” Natasha asked sternly, shooting the young woman a deep glare. Wanda’s eyes dropped to the small pile of paperwork that Natasha was making neat. “I- I just wanted to apologise for what I did” she said, slowly looking up at Nat once more.

“You can save it; you probably already know how I feel” Nat light shook her head. Wanda slowly entered the room and took a seat, showing Natasha that she wasn’t going anywhere until she was confident Nat could forgive her, even if it was a small bit of forgiveness.

“You have every right to be mad with me, I should never have done what did” Wanda admits, taking full responsibility.

“I don’t think you even understand what you did, you just enter people’s minds without a second thought. You have no idea what you put me through!” Natasha snapped, clenching her jaw. “You made me relive a part of my life that I try day in and day out to forget. Can you even think about how traumatising that is for somebody? I don’t care that it was something you just had to do in the moment, so please. Save it” she added.

Wanda’s eyes dropped once more, this time to hers in her lap “the good weighs out the bad” she replied. A small moment of silence filled the room before Wanda spoke once more. “Your daughter, she weighs out the bad” she added, looking up at the Avenger. “You’re holding so much against yourself for what you were made to do, you think everybody thinks you’re a bad person but you’re not. I entered everybody’s mind that day, I saw a lot of hurt and darkness but the brightest thing I saw was the joy you felt when you found out you were pregnant”

Nat’s mind instantly reminded her of that day, although she was scared, she was so happy and excited. A soft smile tugged at her lips before she remembered she was in the room with somebody else. “I don’t want you to hate me, I’m new here and I don’t know anything, so I understand why you don’t like me. I just want a chance, I want to do good, and I guess, you’re the only person I know that would understand how I’m feeling” Wanda added, bringing Natasha’s thoughts to the woman in front of her.

Natasha knew little of Wanda and her powers and she knew she couldn’t hold her actions against her, after all, she was only doing what she was told to do. Nat let out a heavy sigh before she took her seat again, “I would really appreciate it if you kept what you saw to yourself” she said softly.

“Of course,” Wanda replied, giving Nat a soft smile. Silence once again filling the room as Nat looked down at the small pile of paperwork in front of her, “What’s her name?” Wanda asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Y/n, she’s three” Nat said as she began to file some of the paperwork.

“She’s beautiful, does she stay here while you’re working?”

Natasha shook her head before she looked up at Wanda once more, “No, she stays with family. After I finish here, I get to finally go home”

“You must miss her” The brunette commented.

“I do” Nat couldn’t help the smile softly tugging at her lips at the thought of finally being able to hold you again, to read your favorite bedtime story, to hear your contagious laugh once more. “For what it’s worth, you’re not a bad person. People like us were just delt with shit cards, it’s what you do from now on that matters. We are team here; you can apologise as much as you need but actions speak louder than words here” Nat adds before rising from her seat.

Wanda nodded, acknowledging the widow’s words, “I figured. Not everybody seems to be very talkative, beside Vision, I guess”

“They’ll warm up to you, after all, you did try to kill us” Nat replied as she walked towards the door, Wanda turning in her chair to face the woman once more, “thank you, Natasha”

“Call me Nat” the red heard smiled once more, “if you’ll excuse me, I have a little girl waiting for me at home” she added.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

#yelenasdiary asks #scarletwidowblackwitch #fanfiction #marvel #wandanat #awidowssunshine au #wandanat x reader

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pedrosyouknowwhat · 2 days ago

Text

Catching fireflies

Trilogy masterlist

Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x Fem! Reader

Chapter warnings: Dead dove do not eat, dubcon borders noncon, coercion, manipulation, age gap (reader is 19-20 and Joel is 56), unprotected p in v, alcohol consumption, pussy slapping, mention of blood, virginity loss, creampie, inexperienced reader

You slouched over the bar, giggled resonating with the loud, thumping music.

"Aw come on Jerry, you know me since I was a kid!" You pushed, fingers brushing against the worn wood, sticky with years of spilled whiskey; the old bartender chuckle hoarsely. The banter was playful, a brief respite the people of Jackson allowed themselves in the ruckus of the Apocalypse, some glee.

"The world may be fucked up, but you are still underage." He answered, cheeks tinted both from the laughing and the unforgiving summer heat.

Another drunken citizen chirped in, telling the man to give you a drink. Although you knew his intentions were far from kind, you allowed him to fuel the laughter. You hid your uneasiness deep down as you tugged your flowy skirt down your thighs.

The door bell clinked open, but before you could turn around and see, a cup of lemonade was placed in front of you. You inspected the drink with feigned offense.

"Come on Jerry, just one beer." You pleaded, doing your best puppy dog eyes.

"You want Maria to kill me?" He excused, and you rolled your eyes at the excuse you have heard a thousand times.

Like when you asked a boy to be your boyfriend, or when you ask for Tommy to bring you a pretty dress. It all resorted to your mother, well adopted mother; she had taken care of you after your mother died in the outbreak, but it also meant the community held you as some kind of baby Jesus. Always no, always strict.

"Well, Maria can't kill me." You heard a deep seated, growly chuckle behind you, and you peeked over your shoulder.

A man with dark pepper and salt hair, broad shoulder and big, brown eyes. He held a smirk, adorned by a thick, well trimmed, beard that matched his hair. It clicked a tad too late, the resemblance.

"Joel Miller, what are you doing here?" Jerry greeted with a laugh, making the man's gaze lift from you.

"Decided to stick to one place at a time." He explained, nearing the counter. He nudged towards you with his head. "Give her something, on my tab, come on."

Jerry's smile turn into a scowl as he added cheap vodka to your lemonade, and you squealed in excitement, muttering a chant of thank you's to him. You almost forgot about Joel beside you as you sipped the straw.

"So you are, Maria's girl?" He asked, and your eyes shot to him, as a child caught stealing candy.

"Well yes," you sputtered. "Adopted." You added, but it felt weird to clarify.

"Well I'm lucky you are not my niece."

You giggled slightly, was that a compliment?

"Or else you wouldn't be buying me drinks?" you said, and it came out flirtier than you thought. He hummed in response, and the way his shoulders rose sent a tingle through your body.

He's like twice my age. You thought, and that was enough to slip you right out of your giddy trance. You started thinking of excuses to ditch him and head back to your friends, fumbling with the fear of coming off as rude. But the way his eyes lingered on your white lacey dress beneath the thick denim jacket made you unease.

He asked Jerry for a beer, turning to you with a sip. "Wanna go outside?"

Your lips fell apart but words didn't spill, and you head just nodded. Okay, I'll go outside and then tell him I need to go back to my friends. But as you felt lingering stares into the summer night, Joel maimed you with conversation.

He was intriguing to say the least, speaking in short, concise sentences that kept stringing questions into your mind. He spread against a bench as you sat on the edge of the seat, interrogating him in his many adventures.

"There are some things a young thing like you can't hear." He excused, lighting a cigarette between his thick chapped lips. You whined, catching his attention.

Soon enough you were laying your head on your hand against the bench, eyes fluttering as you mustered to keep asking him, keep him talking. His accent was thick, similar to Tommy's.

"Someone's getting tired?" You heard once your eyes were shut, you hummed in response. "Let me take you home."

You questioned if Maria or Tommy would get mad as you walked up the cobblestone, then you laughed at yourself. It was Tommy's brother, the one you have heard stories almost all your life, although having met him randomly, you doubted they'll get mad if they saw him walking you up to your door.

Still, you peeked to the house beside you, checking that the lights were off before turning to face him.

"Well thank you, Joel?" You smiled curtly, waiting for him to leave before opening the door.

"Nice thing you got here, gonna let me in?"

The question felt weird, suggestive.

"You need something?" You asked, a bit more abruptly than you wanted it to come off, but tiredness seeped into you.

Joel blinked, his brows drawing together. "I must be doin’ somethin’ wrong. Pretty girls usually don’t leave me out in the cold." He explained, perhaps way to bitterly. You feel your cheeks warm up as you look around, seeing no one. "but I guess you are too young for that, right?"

You felt yourself cringe at how dumb you felt, young felt almost like an insult. Your gaze fell to your feet, seeing his rugged leather boots.

"it's okay baby," He sighed, and the word slipped out of his tongue effortlessly. "everyone got a first time."

The slight relief that had washed over you dissipated, as if burnt by the heat of his gaze, and everything that had been told of men poured into your mind.

"I-I am not that type of girl." You spluttered, and instantly cursed to yourself.

Joel sniggered, and you felt small in front of his thick, broad body. damn, you had to crane your neck to look at his face.

"Oh I know baby," He drawled, and his hand slowly came up to your face, tucking a strand behind your ear. The word rolled out, sending shivers down your spine. "Just wanted to know you got onto bed safely, and you don't, you know, sleep in the couch- you look so tired."

You nodded, biting your lip. Hastily, you opened the door and turn on the lights. It was pretty small, but it worked; Tommy and Maria wanted you to have your own house, being perhaps to crowded in theirs, but they still wanted to keep you close.

"There's juice on the fridge," You offered timidly, looking how his big figure looked almost comical in your house. "I'm going to change, um, I think I'm good now."

He didn't answer, boots thumping against the floor boards as he observed the pictures over the fireplace. You shrugged to yourself, slipping into your bedroom.

You wondered if he was still there as you changed into your pijama set, something that was sewn for you by Maria, and layered a hoodie on top to check is he was still there.

To no one's surprise, he was, leaning over the wall as is waiting for you.

"I'm going to sleep now," You laugh dryly, pointing to your bedroom as if clarifying you weren't sleeping on the couch.

He looked pretty, and you felt weird for thinking that of a man so much older. He stalled, looking at your for a bit longer.

"Come here," He commanded, and you felt yourself freeze. he saw you, your doe eyed look as you stared at him, pleadingly. "come here baby, I don't bite."

He's Tommy's brother, I know Tommy since I was ten, come on.

You walked over to him, bare feet almost tripping over each other. You stopped a feet away from him, looking expectantly. He rose from the wall, closing the distance between the two of you.

"You are a pretty girl, you know that right?" He told you, and you felt yourself blush as you nodded, weakly. "words, baby."

"Yes, Joel." You answered; a smile tugged once again at his lips, pleased.

"And I'm telling you this for you to take care of yourself, okay?"

You repeated the answer, seeing his chest slightly swell at your obedience.

"You can't let men enter your house like this." He explained, and your brows knitted together in confusion. "They can get... wrong ideas, alright baby?"

"I'm sorry." You said, although you weren't; you were confused.

"Sweet innocent thing," He drawled, and his hand rose to cradle your cheek, forcing you to look into his deep, dark eyes. They looked almost black in the dim lighting. "Have you ever had your first kiss?"

The question struck you, and you felt shame; his touch felt deceiving. As if he was mocking. You shook your head, and he tutted.

"No, Joel." You mumbled, questioning why you kept repeating his name after each answer.

His smile turn into a grin, hand now cupping your jaw.

"Gonna help you with that, just so you-wake up, a bit-darling, alright?"

Before you could even wonder what he meant, his grip became tighter as he pulled you closer, lips clashing into yours. You gasped, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, as if searching for yours. His free hand coiled around your waist, pushing you closer and your hands felt onto his chest. His finger trailed closer to your neck, keeping you in place as he ravaged your mouth.

He let go, leaving your breathless, chest heaving as you gazed up to him in shock. His mouth was twisted into a hungry snarl as he came down to whisper in your ear. "Don't tell them about this, baby."

You woke up the next day believing it was a dream, a twisted and weird dream or perhaps that one glass you had drunk, but when Maria told you to come over for dinner, to celebrate Joel's welcome into the community, and you felt his piercing stare on yours, you knew you hadn't dreamed it. You were quiet at dinner, letting them speak and catch up; Joel was more talkative than you remembered.

You wanted to isolate the incident at your house, to think it was just him genuinely teaching you something, but a fire rose through you each time you were captive to those big, puppy dog eyes. You hadn't kiss anyone since him, and the feeling lingered in your lips. You found yourself thinking about him, about his thick body.

He wasn't teasing as usual around the others, perhaps grumpier with them. He flashed you small smiles and pats in the back, and he supplied all your drinks from the bar, telling you to "go get lost kid" each time he saw you begging by the counter. His change of demeanor made you wonder, if you weren't good enough or mature enough; you had never thought that, not until Joel Miller appeared in your life.

The doubt had crept over you for too long before you gathered your bravery and decided to sneak out to see him; his house stayed on the farther side of town, the one were less people were around. You slipped through back yards and trees the way day, questioning what exactly you were planning until you came face to face with him, sitting in his porch with a guitar on his hand.

"Hi." You greeted, breathless.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" He asked, and hearing the nickname once again made you gush. He looked around, perhaps worried, as he beckoned you to come closer.

"I-I wanted to see you." You confessed, shamefully, and before you sat down he stood up, nudging to the house.

"Come in, can't have you out here."

You followed him inside, jumping when he neared you as soon as the door slam shut. His hands made their way to your hips, impatiently; you got whiff of his cologne, leather and eucalyptus. You wide-eyedly looked up at him, hands pressing into his flannel. You liked his hair that way, slicked back, fresh from the shower.

"Why did you kiss me the other night?" You muttered.

You saw him hesitate with words, struggle, bite his lip as if he was trying to keep his words in. You suddenly felt overly conscious of the way your jacket draped over your body, of the way your jean shorts clung around your thighs and the low cut of your tank top; perhaps you didn't look as good as you expected.

"Baby, don't do this to me." He pleaded, although it sounder more like a demand.

"Please." You begged, fingers latching on tighter.

"It's wrong baby, so wrong." he growled, eyes dipping to your lips. You almost whined at the tone.

Your head cocked to the side, tears brimming in your eyes; what was wrong with you? He just kissed you.

"But why?" You whined; his grip tightened around you.

"Tommy would kill me." He grunted, head turning to look around, evading your eyes, evading you; still his grip persisted, as if holding you in place. "If he found out that- that I like you this much-"

"You like me?" You implore, lips tugging into a small, goofy smile.

He looked at you like a man starved, a man punished. "Oh baby," He panted, pressing your body to his. "I really like you, but Tommy would-"

Each time he repeated his name it irked you, like a scratched record. You cut him short. "Tommy won't know."

His tortured eyes soften, a glint of... hope? ignited. You battled the guilt setting in the back of your brain, the promise you had made despite everything Tommy and Maria had given you.

"You wouldn't tell him?" He questioned, voice as soft as silk.

"No," You spoke quickly, scared he might slip from your grasp. "I-I like you too, Joel."

He let out a small chuckle, and you felt lighter. You allowed yourself to chuckle too, and he called your name softly, you hummed in response.

"No one can know baby, alright?" He told you, hand cupping your cheek. You wanted to savor the tenderness of the moment, but his lips were on yours quickly.

It wasn't your first kiss now, and it was frankly more expected than the other; you attempted to keep up with his demanding pace, lips barely parting to allow his tongue to slip in and taste you. His mouth "o"ed against yours, hungrily as your felt his grip on the nape of your neck.

Suddenly his body was pushing you, your feet stumbling as he guided you. Against a wall? the table? your mind buzzed, attempting to find an answer to what he was doing before your knees buckled into the couch, the stripey green fabric cushioning your fall.

His body fell onto you, settling his thick torso between your legs as he pulled away briefly; his hair had messed up a bit, his lips pink from his assault, and his eyes furrowed like some animal; everything about his gaze felt predatory.

He fixed himself in his forearms, rubbing the zipper of his dark jeans into your clothed core, sending a gaspy whine out of you.

"J-Joel?" You muttered as his face hid in the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses against your blazing skin. He grunted in response, a paw sliding up your thighs; panic brewed in you. "Joel I don't-um-"

He unslotted himself from you, face mere inches away as he looked at you. Joel looked angry, but he couldn't possibly be, right?

"I'm not ready for that." You admitted, like a sinner repenting.

His gaze left you, looking at the empty table, huffing. You felt tears kiss the brim of your eyes, scared to have offended him once again.

"It's fine baby," He grunted, but it felt like it wasn't. He slightly shifted, inches away from you.

"I'm sorry," You choked, doubting to confess further. "I have never done t-that."

You caught his gaze, a small grin on his lips. "It's fine baby," He repeated, and his eyes lighted a bit. "just promise me somethin', alright?"

"Yes, yes." You nodded, fearing he was going to ask you something you won't like. Like forgetting him.

"Promise me I'll be your first."

A month had passed since you sealed your fate, like some sacrificial lamb. You felt as if you were being prepared for it too, Joel slipping into your home late at night, after a long day of practically ignoring you, and kissing your breathless against your walls, your couch and your bed. His hand had wondered over your clothed core a handful of times, hushing your worry by telling you he "Just wanted to see something".

An event that burn into your mind was one night where he was particularly agitated, grasping you roughly as usual. As his hips rutted into the mattress, he whispered something into your ear that sent shivers down your spine.

"Let me see her." He panted, seeing how your eyes narrowed as if you were wincing in doubt. "Please, baby."

His pleads were answered with a small nod that could be mistaken as anything else; you allowed him to bend you over the bed, as you allowed him to touch in places Maria had told you not to allow anyone to touch you. His calloused finger tips pulled down your pijama pants along with your white, sodden panties.

"For a girl that tells me she isn't ready, you are soaking wet baby." He commented, hand splaying in your ass. You felt your core clench at his words.

The light buzz of the zipper woke you up from your trance, and his name bubbled in your throat. "Relax baby, ain't gonna put it in."

You felt the wooden frame of the bed dig at your hips as the dim moonlight casted shadows around the room. You waited, silently, until you heard low, familiar groans behind you. You didn't want to look behind your back, his tightening grip on your ass sending cold sweet along your skin.

His grunts were vivid in your ear against the silence of the night, and you closed your eyes until it was over, despite not knowing for how long he could go. You were on the edge of falling asleep, the only thing keeping you away was the burning pinch on your skin. He became louder, you begged he would just shut up. Something ran across your mind, if it was even appropriate to ask him when was it over.

As a horrible wish you felt hot ropes lather against your backside, slipping through crevices, leaving a sticky trail. He let go of you, panting as his knees cracked, floorboards accompanying the sound.

You didn't want to move, in fear that his waste would dirty things up. You failed to hear him leave and come back, the cooling sensation of a wet rag cleaning the flaky stickiness on your skin being a strange delight.

"You are so good for me, baby." He praised, and your heart swelled. You flashed him a small smile as the waistband snapped back in place. "Gonna take you to a date tomorrow, you'd like that baby?"

You spent every waking hour thinking about that; he told Tommy he needed help running some errands, a bit of hunting here and there, something like that. You were almost sure Tommy only said yes because of how your face lit up at the mention of leaving the fortress of Jackson for a few hours.

A gentle breeze stroked your cheek, warmed by the setting sand as Joel took your delicate hands in his tanned, calloused ones. His figure was darkened by the rays that blinded you. Your cow girl boots padded on the uneasy ground, long grass stroking your legs as the cherry print sundress flowed.

"Where are you taking me, Mr Miller?" You asked with a sly chuckle, slightly unsettled by the normalcy of it all; it felt almost like before the outbreak. The nickname rolled down your tongue teasingly.

"Just a date," He answered shortly, leading you into a emptier valley. You gasped at the sight. "over here."

Sure, the blanket was the usual he kept at the back of his truck, and there wasn't a champagne bottle, or flowers or food, just a half empty bottle of whiskey. But the effort overwhelmed you.

You had expected more when he told you to wait in the car, but it was enough to make you jump into his thick arms.

"Oh thank you," You almost sobbed, chest heaving. You separated yourself to look into his eyes, but the dark browns skimmed down your neckline as he stepped back into the blanket. "You are so sweet, I-"

He landed with a slight thud into the ruddy blanket, and pulled you on top of him.

"Anything for my baby." he mumbled, propping you on top of him. A hand tangling into your hair as he pushed your lips into his, tongue slipping into your mouth as he grabbed a fistful of your ass. You yelped, pulling away.

His expression soured, eyebrows knitting together as you let out a slight giggle, attempting to dissipate the tension.

"Are we going to watch the sunset?" You asked eagerly as you slipped out of his lap, and he fisted the whiskey bottle. Haphazardly, he opened it and took a swig before nudging it into your arm. "Oh, I have never drank whiskey-"

"Come on baby, it won't kill you." He cut you short. You allowed it to burn it's way into you, perhaps scared of displeasing him.

Soon you were even more giggly as you draped yourself over the blanket. Joel's scowl had dissipated, and he was once again singing sweet things into your ear.

"You are so pretty," He mumbled against your neck, placing tender, testing kisses. "Such a pity you are so young."

You grunted at his words, playfully glaring at him. "What do you mean?"

Because what could he mean? You were basically dating, if you knew anything about that; he took you on dates away from Jackson, preaching about privacy, and he visited you late at night, through the backdoor.

He let out a dry laugh as he took one glance into the sky, now painted a light blue as the sun cast it's last goodbyes. You propped yourself in your elbows, getting a better look on his pepper and salt hair and thick beard.

"You are too young for me," he repeated, and you felt nervous by the way he evaded your eyes. "too innocent-"

"I'm not innocent." You almost barked, hand slapping against your lips as you realized how quickly you had said it. "I mean-I don't see how that is a problem."

He finally looked at you with a down turned smile, as if assessing you.

"Come on baby," He nagged, stroking your cheek. "a man like me has, I don't know how to say this, but needs."

You knew what he meant, and it scared you. He had tried a month ago, when you have started dating, and you panicked. He had taken you home for the bar, and perhaps you understood it; that was what people usually do, at least he had told you that. And he was respectful about it too, any time his hand would slip up your thigh, you just had to give him a tight lipped smile for him to stop.

But he was right. Men had needs. Everyone told you about it, most of the time it was a warning, to not be so naive, because men could do and would do bad things to you, just because of these needs.

But Joel wasn't like those men, he was good, he was nice, he even brought you gifts every time he went out for munitions, like what looked like really expensive underwear.

"I know," You spoke slowly, slurred by the amount of whiskey you had taken. "I-I can do it."

A smile appeared on his lips, and once again he looked so sweet when happy.

"You sure baby?" He asked, but his body was already falling on top of yours. The rough fabric of his jeans slide through your thighs, and you felt his zipper line up against your core. "You'll make me the happiest man alive."

It felt sudden, but you had literally told him you were willing to do it, you thought.

He had jumped over you like a coyote over his pray, placing open mouthed kisses over you as his hand palmed over you. He pulled your panties to the side, fingers playing with the slickness you had deprived him off for so long.

His finger prints traced over your fleshy bit, the button that stood at the top of your slit, the one that throbbed when he pressed himself to you. You whined, his ministrations a bit too rough, too intense as you felt as if you were being electrocuted.

You gasped when his thick finger broke into you, a sting following its path. "So tight baby," He mumbled by your shoulder, your eyelids shooting close in pain. "have to open you up for my cock."

The way he said it made you felt even more dirty, but he was he one staining you, and if he liked it that much, it couldn't be so bad, right?

His wet finger left your cunt to fiddle with his belt, you heard the clunk zip sounds along his grunts as he lowered his jeans.

"Take a look baby," He called, and you slowly peeked your eyes opened to look between his legs.

In his hand he held his cock. It's red hot tip weep sadly, veins decorating its side; it was longer than his fist, and thicker than any vegetable you have seen around. A weird comparison, but it was all you thought at the moment.

You head begun to shake, eyes shooting pleadingly at him. "Joel, it's not gonna- is it even gonna fit?"

He chuckled, proudly, as his hand continued to pump precum around it. "It's supposed to baby, your body is made for that."

You nodded, biting your lower lip; he knew better than you. You felt the urge to ask him if he had done this before, but it was probably stupid.

"Lay down baby," He ordered, and you slowly plopped back onto your back. "Spread this legs nice and wide for me."

He saw you doubt, so he forced his body between them, hands at your knees. He laughed about something, looking down between your bodies. You felt the hot tip heavy against you, against the opening. Your hands clenched the blanket beneath you, knuckles turning white, and he pushed in.

Pressure, pressure, pain.

You yelped painfully as you felt the intrusion, body jolting away on instinct. He tutted at you, hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Baby, now we gotta put it in again." He scolded, your head swag from side to side, scared of muttering the words. You fought against his grip. "Stay still."

He growled the last part, and your heart hammered against your chest. You felt searing pain once again, as he pushed in. Your lips parted and a hoarse scream came out, surprising you.

A hand that could break your neck slapped against it, keeping your head still. He met your terrified eyes, tears rolling down your temples form the pain.

"God baby you wanna get us killed?" He barked lowly. "It's going to hurt more if you keep squirming; gonna do this quickly, rip the bandage, alright baby? promise you'll like it afterwards."

He kept talking, but your mind went blank with white hot pain as you felt his hips flush against yours as the agony stilled for a second. It all came back, crushing you as you heard his deep seated moan, your thighs fought against it, shutting close against his torso.

"Take it," He groaned, unlike his usual sweet demeanor. "Take it like a good girl, my good girl."

His hand still clasped over your mouth, and through your blurry eyes you could see his face, hear him; he was happy, he liked it. The praise went straight to your cunt, allowing some ache to dull.

He was going at it for hours, the sun now long gone as all you could do was feel him; the drag of your cock in and out in quick hard motions, his wandering hands pulling down your dress to lick and suck at your neck. And you heard him too, his groans and grunts and the dirty words he shot at you, becoming dirtier and rougher with each thrust.

"Taking my cock so good, bad girl."

"Such a whore, fucking an old man like me, huh?"

"Stop fucking whining, you love it, little perfect slut."

It became too much, any pleasure his strokes could cause disappearing as he lifted your ass off the ground to fuck into you. You whined, feeling the pressure on your clit, a throbbing. A hand came down upon your sensitive skin, slapping there.

You chanted his name, feeling sweat bead against your skin as he gave you blow after blow, sending you clenching around his cock.

"Gonna cum around my cock, huh baby? as I'm slapping your little pussy?" He questioned, and you blabbered a yes.

His thumb begun revolving around your soft point, the rest of his hand pressing down on your abdomen. You allowed the foreign feeling to take over you as his cock thrust up into you, hitting a spongy spot that sent your back curling against the ground.

"J-joel!" You whined, shrieking as you came undone under him.

Any muscle that tensed came undone too, cramping against you as Joel picked up your thighs, pressing them against your chest as he gave precise fucks into you.

"Gonna cum inside of you," He growled. "Fill you nice and deep, baby."

His body weight fell on top of you, stretching your legs even further as you felt his cock twitch inside you. The wetness spilled further inside you, and you quietly listened to his staggered breaths as you came down from your high.

The blood hadn't dried off the blanket as he said it was getting late and walked you to the truck. You waddled, slight pain in your lower belly as you followed him.

"Wasn't that bad, right baby?" He asked you, the light of the truck illuminating his face in a warm glow. His hair was messy, damp with sweat, and he lit a cigarette between his lips.

"It was good." You smiled absentmindedly. "Thank you, Joel."

#dark! joel miller #dark! joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dark fic #tlou #a glimpse of us #joel miller #dark joel miller #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

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pynkhues · 2 days ago

Note

Anything particularly interesting said during the q&a?

Lots actually! It was a really good Q&A.

Michael (creator) talked quite a bit about the original premise for the show being about a lavender marriage between a nurse (Helen) and a reporter (Dale), and while their characterisations haven't changed tremendously, the show itself has, and putting Helen in the newsroom changed a lot of things.

He pitched the show to Jo Werner about 8 years ago, and Emma Freeman was immediately on board as director, so they really got to grow the show together as the creative team has been consistent since then. It means they're all really proud of it.

One of the major changes they made during development was about brining in the actual archive news footage and structuring it around those events, which was a big shift and a huge ask of their writers, but it's paid off.

Bringing in the cast though added another layer to creative collaboration, and especially in s3, all the cast, especially Anna and Sam got to do quite a bit of improvising.

Michelle Lim Davidson, who plays Noelene (and is s t u n n i n g in person, omg) was also brought into the writers room each season to help really root Noelene in her Korean-Australian heritage, and she said s3 feels like a culmination of that and will be an important part of the season. She got very emotional about it and said really beautiful things about what Noelene has meant to her and the pride she has in representing Korean-Australian women, and Asian-Australian women on TV. Also! Michael kept hyping her up as a playwright, and I googled when I got home and her writing debut is on at Griffin Theatre in June, so Sydney folks should get on that!

It seems to be a Noelene-and-Rob-figuring-stuff-out heavy season, and I am delighted by that, because I have a huge soft spot for them.

The scene where Noelene gives birth has made Jo cry every time she's seen it (which Michael estimates is about 40 times haha) and they're all really proud of it as a scene.

Stephen Peacocke had a very hilarious tangent here about Rob's arc, and talked a bit about Australian football and the VFL and stepping into that as a Sydney actor, but also enjoying playing a character who just stays out of the fray (and this season being about realising that he loves that his wife is in it and wants to support her).

Also a Helen-tackling-her-mental-health heavy season, and Anna and Michael literally went to therapy together with her in character to figure out how to start writing Helen in therapy (amazing).

There's a big confrontational scene between Helen and Dale late in the season that involves this, and the way they shot it meant Michael and Emma had to hide in a pantry together lmao. It also meant Anna and Sam got to do quite a bit of improv because none of them could see each other.

Sam said that when he started, both Michael and Emma told him the show doesn't work if Helen and Dale aren't in love with each other, even if it's a type of being in love that we're not used to, and that's basically the emotional root of their relationship and the show.

Michael reiterated a couple of times that the show is a tragedy (RIP us), which particularly came up with a question about Gerry. Emma had to convince Michael of the last shot of Gerry, but now he really loves it, because he wants to tear Dale down for betraying him, but sees him and realises Dale's a broken man.

They were asked a bit about what news stories they'd adapt if it was set in modern times, and the general consensus was that there were too many (Sam said he's not really a 'news' guy lmao), but Michael said COVID and Trump, and Sam said Dale would probably end up on Fox News which was the no. 1 most heartbreaking thing he could say, haha.

They were asked if they could play any other role on the show, who would they pick, and Stephen picked Dennis, and both Michelle and Sam picked Lindsay, which is hilarious.

(Emma interjected there with the fact that Lindsay is the character they get the most feedback on, mostly in the sense of omg, I've worked for a guy exactly like that).

Then they were asked if they took anything from set - Emma had taken Dale and Helen's business cards, and Sam didn't even realise they had business cards and seemed lowkey jealous about not getting them, haha, Stephen had a pair of trackies (sweat pants, for Americans), Michelle had nothing because Noelene loves knick-knacks and Michelle hates them, and Sam apparently has stolen or been gifted half the set - he was gifted Dale's 80s TV for his birthday, and he's kept Dale's computer, among other technology, apparently, haha, his wig, and a pair of high waisted blue jeans that were custom-made for him by the costume designer and feature in the finale, which I am now very much looking forward to seeing, haha.

That's all I can remember right now, I'm sure more will come to me in the morning!

#sorry my phone died on the train on the way home!#will try and answer a few more of these before i go to bed #the ep was really good though #super hopeful for the season but michael saying it was a tragedy made me.......................#hahahah #the newsreader spoilers #the newsreader s3 press #the newsreader s3 screening

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mj-iza-writer · 2 days ago

Text

Whumpee snuck quick glances at the papers that had been left on the coffee table. They were certain that it was about them, but their new caregiver wrote in a strange handwriting.

Caretaker glanced out at them. They grinned as they watched Whumpee strain their neck... trying to see the pages.

"Могу ли я помочь?", Caretaker chuckled. (Can I help?)

Whumpee jumped back onto the floor.

"Sorry, sorry", Whumpee shook as they scooted farther away from the table.

"It's alright", Caretaker smiled as they helped Whumpee sit up, "what were you up to? Do you need help?"

Whumpee looked down with embarrassment, "I was being nosey... and I shouldn't be poking my nose in your work. I'm sorry."

Caretaker nodded, "Well, it is about you. You don't have to worry, I'm not upset. You were concentrating really hard. Were you able to read any of it?"

"M-my name", Whumpee admitted, "no offense, but your writing is hard to make out."

"Well, it's written in Russian, so I would hope it would be difficult", Caretaker chuckled as they picked up the notes.

"Rus... Russian?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

"Da", Caretaker nodded as they shuffled the papers, "I file my patient notes in two different ways. All of these notes will be stored in the secure program on my computer. I will transfer these into English then. My paper chart is kept in Russian as many people can not read it. That keeps my patient's information safe in case there was a break-in or something happened with the charts. When I finish with my patient, these papers will be shredded."

Whumpee glanced at the chart again.

"You can look at them if you like. I'm just about to start dinner", Caretaker handed the papers to Whumpee, "I hope you like кура с гречой."

"Uhm", Whumpee stared dumbfoundedly.

"It's chicken with buckwheat", Caretaker turned.

"Ku.... r..a... sss", Whumpee tried, but paused.

Caretaker slowly pronounced, "kura s grechoy", while Whumpee tried to follow along.

"Very good... Молодец (well done)", Caretaker cheered, "spoken like a true Russian."

Whumpee smiled excitedly, "really... I did it right?"

Caretaker nodded joyfully, "you did. Now, would you like to come help me cook, or do you want to stare at my writing for a while?"

Whumpee looked down at the pages, "it looks cool. I wish I could understand more of it though. I never really knew this was what Russian looked like."

Caretaker knelt down and took a page gently. They carefully read over the page in English to tell Whumpee what the lines said.

"Now this is the Russian", Caretaker read over the lines again.

Whumpee cocked their head to the side as Caretaker read to them.

Caretaker smiled when they looked up.

"Can I learn more?", Whumpee whispered, "please."

"Yes, you can", Caretaker nodded, "we can practice while you stay with me. How does that sound?"

"Good", Whumpee looked at them excitedly.

"Умелый (capable, good)", Caretaker finally stood, "I believe you are capable of learning the language, at least as much as you want to. I know it can be difficult, but it's possible. It's a great part of life to share in other's cultures. It can be a lot of fun. Would you like to learn how to cook something."

Whumpee nodded quickly.

"Alright, come on", Caretaker offered a hand to help Whumpee up.

Whumpee set the papers down and took Caretaker's hand.

"Ku...ra...", Whumpee attempted, "sss... uh... gre?"

"You'll get it", Caretaker promised, "it just takes time."

I just want to attempt something a little different and see if I could use a different language in my writing. I'm not Russian, but I think the language and writing are very cool. I also have a very good friend on here who is very very patiently helping me. This may be a sneak glimpse into a plan I have for SP Specail Containment as well. I am very excited for my next parts to hopefully come back soon. - Mj

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump scenario #this is me trying #writing new things #whump #whumper #recovery whump #russian caretaker #russian character #whumpee #caretaker and whumpee #caretaking #oc #for Thing

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dandylovesturtles · 2 days ago

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I meant to do this earlier and then I didn't |'D but quick little ficlet for @trilobitepunch 's DTIYS!

I've tried to read all the stuff about fangiverse but I may have some lore wrong... but I hope you enjoy this anyway, Aya!

-----

Raph has always kept an eye on his little brothers, and that hasn't changed. Two of them have some added... difficulties now, but that's all. They're still his little brothers, and Raph will watch out for them, same as usual. Everything is totally normal.

Thinking that way helps him stay calm, anyway.

Like now, wandering through a marketplace in the Hidden City, eyes on Donnie as he pokes at the gourds at a stand with a frown. They have a whole shopping list from Draxum, for some medicines he wants to try to make that he thinks will help not just Donnie and Leo but all of them. Raph had almost insisted that he and Mikey could do it on their own, but Leo starts going stir-crazy if he's kept locked in the lair too long and Donnie can lock himself in so long he needs the vitamin D.

Besides, Raph doesn't want to feel like he's keeping them prisoner. It's not their fault.

But against all odds, the day has turned out surprisingly well! They had lunch at Run of the Mill, and ate all their favorites. Leo and Mikey spent their remaining New Year's money on candy from a shop that temporarily turns keratin weird colors; it's supposed to affect fingernails, but right now Mikey is sporting a bright pink shell as he trails after Donnie (Raph has to admit, he wants to try it later). For his part, he has an almost-eaten cup of froyo, which he'd piled high with some pretty weird toppings (the Hidden City has weird green mushrooms that taste like cotton candy!). And they've made it through over half the shopping list without incident! Maybe everything will go smoothly after all.

And just as Raph thinks that, he hears a familiar snarl, and everything falls apart.

His mistake, he realizes even as he turns to look, was focusing so much on Donnie that he forgot to keep an eye trained on Leo.

Donnie's easy to trigger, and he sinks deep, devoid of everything but the urge to attack, to fight. Leo can usually keep one finger in reality, just enough to be the bridge between Donnie and the rest of them. Donnie is unpredictable in a crowd, but Leo loves being out around people. That's why Raph had kept his eyes trained on purple.

But the thing is, when Leo goes down, he goes down hard. And there's nothing to stop Donnie from being swept right along with him.

Raph swivels on his feet, froyo cup tossed aside as he scans the crowd. He finds Leo fast, poised like a snake ready to strike, snarling and hissing, pupils flared and wild. His fangs are out and they're bared, staring down a yokai almost three times his size - Raph doesn't know what happened in the lead-up, but he has a feeling that Leo's freakout is deserved.

It doesn't change the fact that they can't stay here now. If Leo hurts someone in this state, he'll beat himself up about it for weeks - and it's only a matter of time until the cops show up and arrest all of them.

"DONNIE!"

Raph isn't at all surprised by Mikey's shout, or the sudden blur of purple that shoots past him. Donnie is at Leo's side in an instant, snarling just as loudly, the two of them circling back to back in challenge to the increasingly panicked crowd.

It's time to go!

"Raph!" yells Mikey, but Raph doesn't spare him a glance. He trusts Mikey to keep up.

"Hitch a ride, Mike," is all he says, before he's clearing the space between himself and his snarling brothers in two big steps. A second later, a familiar weight lands on his shell; one problem taken care of.

Donnie is just about to launch himself at a yokai brandishing a short sword when Raph swoops in, grabbing his little brother by the battle shell and tucking him under his arm. Donnie howls in frustration, but Raph has experience on his side; he pins Donnie to his side and makes sure his teeth can't get anywhere near him.

"No biting, Dee!" he calls over the noise of the crowd, and gets a frustrated chatter in return.

"I can't reach Leo!" Mikey reports from his shoulder. Raph swivels around to look at his remaining sibling, currently advancing on the big yokai once again. Said yokai has his hands balled into fists in front of him, but he looks more than a little concerned as Leo lurches toward him with predatory steps.

Maybe he could just let him get a little closer...

No, Raph should definitely stop this.

With another big step, Raph comes level with Leo and scoops him under his other arm, earning a startled yelp that would be hilarious under other circumstances. Both feral turtles struggle under his arms, fangs bared and hands strong, but Raph has them in his grip.

A police siren echoes over the din of the crowd.

"Time to go!" Mikey shouts, thumping Raph's shell.

"Don't gotta tell me twice!" he yells back. He's already muscling his way through the crowd, making a beeline for an alleyway off the market. They need to get off the main streets, then book it for the nearest portal topside.

The whole trip, the bundles under his arms hiss and snarl and claw at him, completely ungrateful for how he just saved their butts. He ought to drop them and leave them here.

But he won't. They're still his little brothers, after all.

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #trilodtiys #trilo fang au #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise mikey

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bettystonewell · 3 days ago

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SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 1 - Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,

Summary: ‘Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours… or …Mrs Butters isn’t just messing with Dean’s underwear drawer. She’s messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 4K words

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT in parts 2&3—————————————————————Part 2 || Part 3

Part 1: Do We Really Have to Keep Her?

The scene was right outta your childhood. Strings of giant baubles pre-lit flew before your eyes; spinning and winding around the balustrades and the lush green branches of the fir tree sitting atop the war room table. Mrs Butters had whipped it out of thin air without a visible wand or spell book, and you were afraid to ask.

Five finger discounts weren’t uncommon in the bunker, but she didn’t seem the stealing kind.

Had the whiskers on her chin been longer and she dressed all in blue, she’d make a mean Merlin or Merriweather. She was just missing her sister Flora. Or did that title fall on you?

“Close your mouth, dear,” she said as her hands flattened the collar of her blouse. “You’ll catch flies that way. Not a man.”

Not a… What? She’d been throwing shade at you all day, but that? That took the cake.

Who said you needed one for starters? You surrounded yourself with four on the daily and they were less than desired. An angel, a literal child, and two hunters, arrogant and crude. Yuck, yuck, and double yuck.

Sam could keep his toxic gas, and Dean, refusing to change his underthings until he’d worn them inside and out, twice? Yeah. No thanks.

You opened your mouth wider to argue, making her words come true. Only she cut you off with the same tsk she’d given Dean earlier when questioning his third beer.

“Oh, I know your type.” She hooted like an owl and the lights flickered along in time. “You’re the same as young Josie. The first Woman of Letters. Look what happened to her.”

“Abbadon possessed and killed her,” you said.

“Yet you have a tattoo for that.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she tsked again, but before you could offer another retort, she clicked her heels and strode away. Shame it wasn’t three times. This was your home and her picking you to pieces in it wasn’t happening. No way, no how.

So, you chased after her and her stupid apron into the kitchen, a few steps behind. She was fast for an old lady, but you were faster.

“Look lady!” You grabbed her by the arm and she turned to face you. Those eyes of hers could shoot laser beams if she wanted. Cut your insides open, head to toe. Anyone would think you’d stolen her fake Christmas. Screw your Tuesday afternoon in June.

“Mrs Butters will do, dear,” she said in her sweetest voice. The smile that accompanied it prickled the hairs on the back of your neck. “Why don’t you help me with the snickerdoodles?”

Wait. What? No. You didn’t want to help her with her cookies. You didn’t want her here at all.

You looked her in her beady eyes and opened your mouth wide to speak, only to find a spatula in your left hand, and an eggbeater in your right.

What the—

“Language!” she chirped.

That evening, Dean’s face lit up, matching all that glittered as he and Sam descended the spiral staircase. The spring in his step like a child’s on an actual Christmas morning.

The baubles. The tinsel. The lights. No wonder Mrs Butters had kept you busy baking and decorating all afternoon. More flourishes had been added since you’d last seen it, and there were presents, too. Gifts wrapped in ribbons and glossy wrapping that belonged in a department store window, never in your life, now sat below the lowest branches of the tree.

The large square one with the teal and white trimmings had your name on it. Literally. Written in silver cursive on a blue background, you could just make out from where you stood, a good three feet behind her.

That is until the guys hit the ground and you took a step towards Dean, who was first. Headed straight for Mrs Butters and the silver tray of Christmas treats in her hands, of course.

He took one and shoved it into his mouth, biting off Santa’s face with no qualms. No questions asked, either. Give that man sugar and a crumbly base to eat it off of and you’ve won his heart over, tenfold.

You cocked your brow, but he just grinned through full, rosy cheeks, and said, “This is great, Mrs B.” with a crumbly finish.

Sam rolled his eyes, and you agreed. Was it great?

“Don’t chew with your mouthful, dear.” She patted him on the back. “And it’s not me you should be thanking.”

She winked at you, and all eyes turned.

“You made these?” Dean asked, looking you up and down just as she had earlier.

Did you? Your sugar coated hands smoothed over your thighs, catching on the skirt of your apron. She’d made them. You just mixed up the icing and placed dollop after dollop of red, white, green and black on their golden tops. But did you tell him that? No. Were you given the chance to? Also, no.

“She made them from scratch.” Mrs Butters beamed before you could, snapping her fingers and walking away with a clickety-clack.

The woman was a whirlwind. The tray of cookies, magical just like her to the point you weren’t sure any of you should be eating them, even if you had helped mix the ingredients. They’d appeared on the table in a space amongst the presents that wasn’t there two seconds before.

Though why were you surprised?

Dean still wasn’t. Least not at the apparating snickerdoodles. “You really made these?” he said, shoving Santa’s jolly belly and legs into his mouth all at once.

You folded your arms across your chest. It may’ve been untrue, but he didn’t have to doubt you. “Is it so hard to believe I baked?” you asked with a narrowing glare.

“Maybe in college.” He chuckled, leaving you flustered and him a larger hole for the cookie crumbs to crumble onto his chin.

“It was one time!” And he’d never let it go.

Cue Dean’s purple nightdress and Sam ripping his eyes from their sockets.

Packed lunches.

Smoothies on tap for Jack.

Clean sheets and clean clothes for everyone. Only some of your bras and panties had gone MIA. Replaced with stockings, a dressing gown and a petticoat that would never fit under your jeans and sweats, let alone the one skirt you wore on the job.

Of course, you knew who to thank. She’d rearranged the kitchen. And if you’d been insulted before? Well, it didn’t matter, because you did nothing, choosing to stew in your bitterness. She considered the room your domain and you a housewife, yet she’d charged in and changed it on you.

You couldn’t win.

The fresh fruit was a nice touch, sure. It sat on the counter along with all the other makings of your Christmas dinner, including ham, turkey, and pork. That stuff had you salivating.

The apples she had you stewing, though? Not so much.

“Perfect!” Mrs Butters said, not noticing the glitter that’d fallen into the pot from the tinsel hanging above the burners. Nope. She clapped her hands with the tips of her fingers in excitement, rather. “The boys will be most surprised. Samuel was very excited when I told him about my special apple and cranberry sauce.”

You bet he was, and you gave her your best fake smile. Sam was particular about what he ate, and the sugar levels in this stuff were more than he’d eaten in the past year. He’d get a surprise all right. She would too if she let Dean sample all the dairy centric dishes she’d made.

“Now, turn the heat to a simmer, dear,” she said, and in the next breath yelled, “Jack!”

Could she not slow down just a teensy bit?

Before you could even crank the gas, she was hightailing it to the kitchen table where he sat eating his sandwich. No matter, he didn’t want it. She’d insisted you make it for him, anyway.

It was hard enough to keep up with her quips and off-the-cuff insults, but Jack was innocent, vulnerable, and she wasn’t upsetting him anymore than she already had under your watch. So you threw in the towel, the one you’d had resting on your shoulder, and you strode over to him, too.

“Can we fix you anything else?” she chirped at him. We, meaning you.

“Ah, no, thanks.” You shared a look. His shoulders hunched over as he put the wholemeal, de-crusted PB and J back on his plate. “I wasn’t—”

“Oh, pish posh.” She double tsked. “You’re a growing boy. Perhaps another smoothie if the sandwich isn’t hitting the spot?”

She’d phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t. Nope. Another glass of the creamy concoction she’d forced upon him all day appeared from nowhere. The woman could magic up food and trees without lifting a finger, yet she was hovering over you as she cast instructions on how to make everything by hand.

Why you were even agreeing to this was beyond you. Yes, you had your ulterior motives. Monitor the witch and protect Jack because Cas was indisposed, and the guys were chasing monsters at the new fandangle radar’s whim. But being her bitch? You needed a break from that.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked Jack, tugging on your apron by the longest piece to untie it. Only, it was rather tight, as was Mrs Butters gripping your shoulder.

“We have to finish our sauce first, dear,” she said.

Of course you did. Which led you back to the burners, and Jack to the remodelled Dean cave without you to watch Home Alone ‘cause it was neither bloody nor magical. There was enough of the latter going round, and apples needed to be tended to.

“Why can’t you just whip this up like everything else?” you said as you stirred the apples, once, twice and thrice as instructed.

“Well, I can’t do all the work, can I? Now. Back the other way,” she said, and you did that, too.

“But how’re—”

“Three times, dear,” she insisted, hovering closer to your side.

That was… rather precise, sounding more like a spell than a recipe, and you stopped for a moment, reconsidering the repercussions if you continued.

“Is this—”

“A buh-buh-buh.” She widened her beady eyes. “We’re making this with love. It has to be done correctly.”

“Love?” Yeah, you weren’t touching the stuff when it was done. You’d added every single ingredient that had gone into it so far, but you were still unaware of where it’d all come from besides thin air.

Where was everything before it popped into sight? It didn’t even make a sound when it did, and, oh god, what if love was a code for something more sinister… or bodily? Could you catch herpes with a special sauce? Wasn’t there a saying about pulling things from asses?

Heh. Dean would appreciate that, and your lips splayed into a smile at the thought of him and his stupid grin.

“Is there something funny about love?” Mrs Butters asked, and you swallowed.

If only she knew. “No.” You flicked your head and cleared your throat for good measure, turning just in time to see a metal sieve pop into her hand.

“Where—”

“Apples, dear.” She nodded to the large pot.

Right… Of course.

You set to work, doing as she’d asked. Only she continued to stare, never blinking. Watching every movement of your hand, up and down, left to right, as you scooped the apples out.

“How did you come to be in the bunker?” Her much kinder voice caught you off guard, and… wait. No insult?

No tsks or mentions you were doing it wrong? And how come she got to ask the questions?

“I, ah… Dean invited me to move in a couple of years ago.” You flicked your eyes her way, hoping the bare minimum would satisfy her, and let you get back to concentrating on the apples.

“That was nice of him,” she said, and you could only agree. It was.

“Do you enjoy living here?”

“It beats stingy motels.” You shrugged.

“Oh. I’m sure it does, but you’re living in such tight quarters.” She waved her hand, and the pot doubled before your eyes. “It’s bound to cause issues between a woman and two men.”

And there it was. The impending insult.

So that was her problem. You living alone with Sam and Dean? With all the modern technology around, she must’ve realised things had changed since the fifties, and “We’re just friends,” you said. Both brothers were always kind to you, and unlike everything else that moved, Dean had never tried getting into your pants, so things weren’t awkward. There was mutual respect. The odd banter. Comradery.

“With urges.”

If you had a drink, you’d have spat it out. As it was, you dropped your ladle into the pot, only to find the handle, clean and back in your fingers before you had the chance to retort. Yeah, that was more like it. Her moving stuff.

Urges, though? Is this where all the glances were coming from? The comments about Josie? She didn’t want some floozy perverting her boys?

“Are you dating anyone?” she asked next, and bingo.

You were right on the money.

Bitch. You weren’t a floozy.

“Look. I’m not dating Sam or Dean, so you don’t have to worry, alright?”

“Oh, I know you’re not seeing Samuel.” She chuckled. “He has Eileen.”

Wait. “He does?” She’d been here all of one day. How the hell did she know that when you didn’t? Had she been looking into more than just your dirty laundry?

Fuck.

Dean’s magazines. The shoe box in your closet.

You swallowed and flicked your head down to her level, expecting more judgement; but finding empathy in the lines that decorated her face instead.

“Tell me more about you and Dean,” she said. “I imagine you saw him too this morning?”

You and Dean.

You and Dean?

What was that supposed to mean, ‘cause the way she’d said it implied the two of you together, and that was far from the truth. It couldn’t happen. He considered you family, and, “Family doesn’t end with blood,” he’d said, which made you sister Winchester.

Well… not quite. No habit. A tattoo. Josie was far closer to one of them before she became, you know, and Chuck dang it. This shit was messing with your head.

Nuns. Winchesters. You and Dean. Didn’t help that you had caught a gander at what was below his nightgown that morning.

Yeah… Families don’t seek that out.

They also don’t think about it after the fact, but ever since Mrs Butters’ little chat in the kitchen, that’s where your mind was going. Every. Time. You. Saw. Him.

You were more perverted than he was, and carrying the homemade special sauce you’d made to the dinner table that night wasn’t helping.

You stepped up the small step into the library with as much care as you could muster, not wanting to trip in front of the guys. Read, not trying to trip in front of Dean. Screw the pretty gravy boat you carried that Mrs Butters must’ve whipped out of her ass, too.

“This is Mrs Butters’ special sauce,” you said to Sam with a grin, who swiped his tongue over the inside of his cheek.

Dean, as you’d hoped, was more appreciative of the opening you’d thrown at him. You’d chosen your words after all, knowing he’d make something of it and he didn’t disappoint.

He stood up from his seat to inspect the genie’s lamp-like piece as you placed it in the centre of the first table next to the gravy and giant ham. His hand, finding your shoulder as he did with an electrifying touch.

“Dunno what you were hoping for, Sammy, but be glad it ain’t white.”

“Not funny.” Sam shuffled in his seat.

You couldn’t help the snort at his scowl. Your gut couldn’t help the flip at the contact of Dean’s firm grip on your shoulder, either. He was so close, you could smell the gas station aftershave on his clothes over the array of food, and you held your breath.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You’d admit it was creepy, but Mrs Butters took the whole Christmas cake.

“Oh! Oh! Dears!” she shrieked in glee as she shuffled up to the small step herself to join you. Jack trailing along behind with a stack of plates. “Look.” She clapped her hands, darting her beady eyes upwards. Giving you all no choice but to do the same out of curiosity.

Dear god. “What’s that?” you asked, though your gut flipped again at the inkling. Like the sieve and the gravy boat, the bunch of pale green leaves were new, and it could only mean one thing.

Sam’s body shuddering in a fit of laughter further confirmed it.

That was not there before, and Mrs Butters sure looked pleased with herself.

Course she’d made it. Who wouldn’t be proud? Her heels clipped the wooden floorboards as she bounced on the spot. Hands, no longer clapping but balled into fists as she shook them in the air.

“Well. Go ahead! I see a lady standing under the mistletoe, Dean.”

And what was a kiss amongst friends? Siblings? You’d let Dean peck you on the cheek if that would get her off your case, and you turned it to him and poked it with your finger. “C’mon Deano. This sweet skin ain’t gonna kiss itself.”

Thank Chuck he found it funny, too.

“Right,” he said, and even wagged his brows as he swooped in, letting in all that glittered into those brilliant greens of his.

It was soft and quick and a terrible idea. Made worse when you patted him on his own shoulder and commended him for his effort. “Not bad.” You fanned yourself for added effect. “No wonder all the girls all fawn over you, huh?”

Could you shut up now? That was cruel to him and you, but it would seem poking bears had become your speciality. Only this time, this one bit you back.

He huffed. Shook his head with his own tsk of his tongue, and then brought it and his pouty lips down to yours with no time to react.

Whisky. Sugar. Tingles in all the wrong places. Your foot might’ve popped like a scene in a cheesy movie if it weren’t for the chairs in the road. It was soft and quick and a terrible idea on his part, because while he was very much pleased with himself, you couldn’t look at him straight after that.

Dean.

Dean, Dean.

His name was easy on your tongue, and he on your eyes.

Through dinner, desert, cleaning up, and Die Hard, they feasted upon his form when he wasn’t looking.

Yes, you perverted son of a bitch. You couldn’t even do it like you knew he would. Which meant he wasn’t interested, and you could live with that.

But could Mrs B?

She was meddlesome, and maddening, and she’d tucked your sheets in way too tight to the point they were keeping you awake. Yes. It was her and them alright, and not your hang-up on Dean.

No. Thanks to her, your toes made little mountains that stretched the fabric over your needed-to-know basis legs. The little hairs moving underneath prickled your skin much like a certain someone’s scruff had brushed over your chin and cheek earlier.

The freckles on his nose. Remnants of his cheap aftershave in yours. Hell, stepping out of your room would give you a real good whiff of the smoke and spice with your door only three down the hall from his.

But would that make you feel better? God no, but you abso-fucking-lutely gave into the urge and exerted yourself outta bed. You needed a cold drink to cool your jets and soothe your fuzzy insides, anyway. A stiff one, even better, and you stormed out into the hall in search of it all.

Anything to clear your head.

Only every turn you took towards the kitchen found newer Christmas decorations that weren’t there when you’d bid everyone goodnight before. Tinsel here. Glitter there. Mistletoe everywhere, and your brain turned plant hunter and gatherer, decking the halls with forceful fists of fury.

No more kisses could happen, no matter how innocent Mrs Butters made them appear. Apparitions would remain food related, and when you and your burden made it to the kitchen’s trash can, you wanted to jump in, too.

“Everything okay, dear?” Mrs Butters said with a grin that rivaled Dean’s. The exact one he had on his face, sitting across from her.

Fuck.

His disheveled hair, fresh and damp from a shower. His tight-fitting Henley rolled at the sleeves… Water. You needed that water for your throat yesterday.

“Can’t sleep either, sweetheart?” he asked.

Sweetheart. What a delectable sound.

“I, ah… no.” You waltzed over to the cupboard that held the glasses, opening it up, only to find none there. If you were a glass, where would she have put you?

“Where are the—”

A tall tumbler full of water popped onto the shelf before your eyes.

Right…

“Would you like some eggnog?” Mrs Butters beamed, but before you could respond, a second glass, full of the stuff, apparated, too, and you stood there stunned.

“Thanks,” you whispered. Mind and soul depleted of all life, and needing the protein.

You picked them both up with a touch of caution and made your way to the table, soon finding yourself having to choose between the lesser of two evils. Sit next to him or her?

“You’re not wearing the housecoat I left out for you,” sealed the deal.

Dean was safer, and taking the seat on the stool next to him, had you sweeping over your chest as you settled.

You were braless, but your top was thick enough to cover your nips at least. “Didn’t fit,” you said, slurping a mouthful of eggnog straight after to keep the rest of your thoughts at bay.

The stuff was potent. The aftertaste choked you on its path down.

“What’s in this?” you asked at the end of your splutter, as Dean’s palm made contact between your shoulder blades this time. Honestly, it’s what you needed, the kick, not his heavy hand on your back, but Mrs Butters’ continual beaming had you at unease.

“It’s a secret.” She winked before standing up with yet another clap of her hands. “I’ll leave you two to finish your drinks. Don’t stay up too late. We’ll open the remaining presents in the morning.”

And with that, the whirlwind that was the old wood nymph was out the door, leaving you alone with the man you weren’t supposed to be thinking about.

“Isn’t she awesome?” he said.

“Sure makes things interesting.” You took another gulp of your eggnog. It was easier on the throat the second time around, and if it kept your mouth occupied, and your eyes away from Dean’s, you’d drink it all.

But he hummed, and you drew to it like a moth to a flame. That deep rumble. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he spoke.

“You still think she’s out to get you or something?”

Did you? Though unspoken, she had remarks on your wardrobe and the fact that you weren’t the pin up for a 1950s housewife right outta Stepford. She’d pulled the mistletoe stunt, and brought on this strange fascination with Dean, but she’d done nothing harmful per se. Just… weird.

So what was it? What couldn’t you put your finger on besides the glass of eggnog?

“You know how you’re always going with your gut?” you said, braving a glance his way.

He nodded.

“I just can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else going on besides the special sauce.”

Part 2 || Part 3 —————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Up next in Part 2 - 07/02

Having had enough of his antics, Sam pushed it aside and marched in. He scanned the room the second he had, finding Dean and his purple nightgown with ease.

It was hard not to miss.

As was his one-eyed-snake, reddened and sticking out from under it.

“Dude.” He… He… “Would you put that thing away?”

Thank Chuck, Dean listened to that instruction. It was bad enough seeing it before in the kitchen, not hard. This was… This was… “What the hell do you want me for?” And what was he supposed to tell Eileen?

“It’s stuck.”

It… “What do you mean it’s stuck? Just beat it out and go to sleep.” —————————————————————

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn

If you'd like to be tagged, please Imk.

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damnfeelings09 · 24 hours ago

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Animals - Shadow's version

A.N: hey! I'm off to vacation for 5 days so I'm giving you two chapters, I already know how this au is going to end and I'm hoping I can come back to the regular one shots after that, also anybody here likes Leon Kennedy? My man fine and I've been thinkging about adding some storyes tho Shadow is still my main man. RED for stalker, GREEN for you.

Special mention to @animegoddess15 hope you like it! Remember to always check you locked your door twice.

Ever since then, not a single day went by that you don't get a text with those same two words. Every once in a while, a picture of you would be attached to the message praising how beautiful you were, saying all the dirty things he'll do to you. Fear took the better of you, you could no longer walk without looking back every 10 seconds, afraid to close the doors, and to walk home alone. Paranoia had become a shadow over your shoulders.

Pretending that everything was fine had always been your superpower, but between the messages, the school pressure, pretending that Shadow was something more than your classmate and the constant fights with Mailo caused by that, the exhaustion was getting the better of you and it was noticeable in the way you kept frowning, the constant zoone outs during class, the lack of participation. The stiffness in your shoulders and neck was killing you slowly.

“Wow bunny, it wouldn't hurt to relax” His hands gently caressed your skin, massaging your muscles trying to relieve the tension, while you kept your attention fixed on the Surgery questionnaire.

“Get your fucking paws out of her” hissed Mailo. He didn't understand why Shadow was always with you now, he wasn't your friend, he was a bully and had been for a long time. Why would you let him be with you? Why were you so close to him lately? Why would you let him touch you? Why would you want to stain your smooth, pure skin with the filthy paws of an animal? Mailo was annoyed and Shadow was enjoying it, you could tell by the way he nuzzled your neck and pulled his chest a little closer to your back until you were fully lying on top of him. “Are you deaf of something? I said don’t touch her”

“Sorry, too busy pleasing my girl”. - pronounced Shadow with a cocky grin on his face.

“Your girl?” the tension palpable between them both, good thing you were too focused or you'd have noticed the threat in his tone as his eye twitched.

She's mine

“Like I said my gi-“

“Would you please stop! I'm trying to concentrate” you said cutting him off as you got up from your place and put your stuff in your backpack. The noise in your head was already enough for you to have to put up with their egos fighting. “If you want to play whose dick is bigger that's fine, just leave me out of it.”

They both looked at you in shock as you walked to your Surgery class, praying that the little time you had to go over the questions would be enough to remember everything and pass the midterm exam.

“Mine's bigger” Shadow said as if it was nothing.

They both ran after you, Shadow reaching you first placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. Mailo just watched you, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. It was hard enough for him to stifle his feelings, now seeing you with a freak as he called em was unbearable. His blood boiled at how you didn't even flinch at the act, on the contrary, you let him pull you closer, his fur rubbing against your bare arms. Mailo had accepted hardly that you wanted nothing to do with him, that you were just best friends and that was all, but he couldn't accept that, was this the reason you had rejected him over and over and over and over again? You both had leaved him behind as if you had forgotten about him but he definitely noticed how you leaned on Shadow as he stole one of his kisses, watching him out of the corner of your eye as if he had already won.

You can pretend that it was me

But no

Stolen kisses and pretty lies. That was all there was between you and Shadow but you couldn't deny that the bastard knew what he was doing when he put his arm around you pulling you to his chest, or his hands on your shoulders lessening the stress. Part of you wanted to feel his hands on other parts of your body, but you still fought that inner voice that just wanted to take him in. When he kissed you, it was quick, it looked like a pure, chaste kiss but you knew his fang had taken a good bite out of your lower lip, the metallic taste of blood making its way through the class reminding you of his promise threat that he would see you later.

By the time you got home it was past 22:00, all you wanted was to take a bath and sleep until the weekend, to stop thinking and just exist in the coolness of the warm water as if your problems could drain away. You were so focused on yourself that you forgot to lock the door when you arrived. An amateur mistake that would cost you dearly. You had been tempting him all afternoon and he couldn't wait to put his hands around your neck, push you against the wall, undress your body, smell every inch of your skin and make you his while you begged him not to. There was no turning back now, no more games. He would take what belonged to him.

Baby, I'm preying on you tonight

Hunt you down eat you alive

You placed a towel around your body, the warm drops of water running down your hair and onto your back, the tension was gone thanks to the magic of the water and playing the waves of the sea worked wonders when stress consumed you. You picked up your brush and approached the bathroom mirror ready to untangle your long hair, you ran your hand through the steam from the mirror and saw him. That tall figure, dressed all in black. You turned to face him but there was no one there, you quickly slammed the door locking it, your heart pounding out of your chest as you heard the knob being forced while holding it as if your life depended on it because it did. It was him, it was real. Your Stalker was in your house and you had no way to escape. You were going to die there, in your bathroom, covered only with a towel or worse, first he would torture you doing whatever he wanted with you just like in his calls and texts and then you would end up 10mts underground, would anyone miss you? would they even notice your absence? Suddenly your phone vibrated, an incoming call, but you were too scared to answer, what if it was him?

“Hey how you doing?” The second you recognized Shadow's voice on your voicemail you ran for the phone, but your desperation and trembling hands wouldn't allow you to accept the call until after several attempts.

“Is it you? I swear to the gods Shadow if this is a fucking prank I will-“

“Wow, slow down princess. I'm outside your home, told you I’ll see you later.” she sobs covering her mouth as she hears the door being forced again. “Did I interrupt something?

“Help me.” you whisper. Shadow senses the fear in your voice, he enters your house breaking through the front door, his stealthy footsteps skirting the furniture and glass on the floor, following the sound of your sobs, he grabs the doorknob and hesitates to enter until he hears a scream coming from your mouth. With a precise blow he breaks down the bathroom door now he owes you two doors and comes over, wrapping his arms around you, protecting you. You freeze at his touch, screaming for help. “Hey, hey Bunny? Shhhh It's me.” he says gently stroking your head. You've never seen Shadow worried before, his brow furrowed, his ears drooping, his red eyes examining every part of your face making sure you weren't hurt, his palm holding your cheek. You failed to contain it and threw yourself onto his chest, salty tears wetting his chest. “You sure missed me bunny.”

“There was some-hic inside, hic-break in” you say between sobs. Shadow rises to his feet, standing in attack position, his ears perked up, alert to the tiniest sound. In a gold-orangy blur he’s gone, running all over the house at super speed, and although it only took him 10 seconds to get back to you, it was enough to find you in a fetal position next to the shower.

“There's no one here” He says. You raise your head, you were sure you looked pathetic, hyperventilating with your eyes red and puffy due to our crying, tears rolling down your reddish cheeks, hair tangled and still wet from your shower, this was not the way you’ll like him to see you or anyone for the matters. To your surprise Shadow sighs and takes you in his arms bridal style right to your room, you peek through his shoulder to all the mess the stalker had made.

Placing you on your bed he takes off his t-shirt offering it to you to cover up. You pull the soft material over your head, the fitting to big on you falling right down the middle of your thigh. He turns around looking in your drawers for your underwear. It doesn't take him long to find them, choosing a white one with small lace ruffles, he tosses them in your direction and stays on his back while you get dressed. Once ready, Shadow picks up the brush on your bureau and begins brushing your hair. The silence between you is not overwhelming, it is pleasant, allowing you to release the last of your tears as his hand caresses your back. When he finishes he places you inside your bed covering you with the sheets ready to withdraw until you take his hand. “Don't leave me” the plea in your voice, your puppy eyes and the little pout on your lips stops him. He removes his shoes and the rest of his clothes crawling into bed with you. You rest your head on his chest snuggling against him entangling your leg between his, caressing his chest fur as Shadow wraps his arms around your waist. The warmth of his body and the sound of his heart soothe your senses and you slowly enter dreamland.

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow fanfic #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedeghog #sth au #mobian x human #sth #shadow #sonic fanfiction #Shadow x you #shadow smut #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow au #AnimalsAUShadowversion

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stllmnstr · 2 days ago

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signed, sealed, delivered

Another drabble from an anon prompt! Started with this:

And turned into poor commoner Jaeyun x rich princess oc in a historical kingdom (so different setting but I hope you still enjoyyyyy 🫡) ps I usually write his name as jake but kept it jaeyun here to match the ask!

pps again I wrote this on my phone and it somehow ended up at 3k AND it's 4 in the morning. that's what you call a triple whammy, folks. enjoy and please excuse any mistakes 😭

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Sim Jaeyun is turning twenty-two years old today. It’s an impressive feat, in a kingdom where making it to eighteen without succumbing to disease or illness or something more directly borne of war is becoming more and more rare.

But Jaeyun made it to eighteen. Four long years ago. And the years have only been adding up, surely, if not also incredibly slowly, since then.

The only reason he’s made it this far is because he’s smart. Not in the textbook kind of way. Jaeyun wasn’t born into a family important enough to be literate, so it’s nothing but a blessing that he’s as good with words as he is, considering that he can't read them.

It's mostly because he uses them so sparingly. After all, Jaeyun hasn’t made it twenty-two years by talking. He’s done it by keeping his head down and his mouth shut. Just like any good commoner.

He pays his taxes on time and only participates in illicit activities - namely, harvesting crops from one of the sixteen royal gardens - after the sun goes down. He wears average clothes and eats average meals and spends his days with other average people.

From a lot of angles, it’s uninspired. It’s hardly a life at all. But it’s his reality, and for the vast majority of the kingdom’s population, it’s their reality, too.

So Jaeyun, even on his twenty-second birthday, doesn’t have any grand plans. The only thing he wants to do is barter for enough flour and sugar in the marketplace, and maybe even some butter if the dairy farmer takes pity on him, to make himself something sweet over the fire tonight.

As he walks towards the town square, there’s a lightness in his step. Even with midday sun beating on his back and perspiration beginning to gather on his nape, he’s sure that today will be a perfectly ordinary day. In his mind, that alone is something to be immensely grateful for.

By the time he’s secured minuscule amounts of flour and sugar, his mood is still in high spirits. Even though the dairy farmer does not seem to be in an agreeable mood.

“I’ll bring you an extra bag of corn,” Jaeyun whispers conspiratorially over a stack of delectable looking cheeses. He doesn’t even spare them a glance. There’s no point, really. The grumpy old farmer still seems reluctant to give up a fraction of a stick of butter.

“What am I going to do with corn?” The man waves a dismissive hand at him. Jaeyun suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. At least the woman selling sugar had been susceptible to a little old-fashioned flirting. He has the distinct feeling the same tricks won’t work here.

“Potatoes, then.” Jaeyun has no idea where he’ll get potatoes. The royal groundskeepers have a tight leash on that particular crop, but he’s getting desperate.

That, at least, seems to catch the dairy farmer’s attention. Jaeyun’s gut is starting to twist a bit in dread at the prospect of making good on his promise, but the thought of having butter is already enough to make his mouth water.

Before he has the chance to find out if his offer was accepted, the sound of trumpets cuts through the clamor of the market like a knife.

Immediately, conversations cease. Identical flashes of panic flicker through a hundred sets of eyes.

Three sharp, short notes. A beat of silence, and then they’re repeated. It’s a pattern that every citizen knows well.

The announcement of a royal.

Which also means it’s Jaeyun’s cue to craft a stealthy exit. It’s not that he’s a wanted man, per se, but he’d rather not be on the list of people the royal guard are familiar with.

Turning quietly on his heel, he silently mourns the loss of his precious butter with a small pout. And then he bumps straight into Park Sunghoon.

He’s an acquaintance, more than a friend. But he’s also one of the people Jaeyun is closest to in this world.

“Woah,” Sunghoon raises an eyebrow when he notes the swiftness of Jaeyun’s escape attempt. “Didn’t you hear the trumpets?”

“I think everyone on this side of the border heard them,” Jake grumbles, not pleased to be stalled. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

Sunghoon just shrugs, stepping to the side to let him pass. But Jaeyun barely makes it three steps before he’s asking, “You’re not curious?”

Jaeyun pauses, eyes going towards the sky above him in exasperation. He’s not sure why Sunghoon always insists on speaking in riddles, and especially when he’s trying to be discreet.

Turning back to face him, he bites, “Curious about what?”

Sunghoon smirks. He has a piece of information that Jaeyun doesn’t. It’s a rare situation, and he’s planning to milk the hell out of it. “The princess,” he finally says. “Princess ___” He adds in a sing-song voice.

The space between Jaeyun’s eyebrows begins to crease. “What are you talking about?”

“Rumor has it that’s who’s coming right now. Our lovely, fearless, princess is about to be paraded through the marketplace.”

“You’re lying.” Jaeyun shakes his head. He’s sure of it. He doesn’t know much about the king that he supposedly serves, other than his penchant for stationing rather incompetent guards by the crop fields that grow corn, but he does know how he treats his children. Namely, his daughter.

His oldest son is actively being groomed to become the next king, of course. The second born has a nasty chip on his shoulder about it and tries to make up for it by training until he can defeat every last member of the military in hand-to-hand combat and outsmart them in strategy meetings.

And you. The youngest. The only girl.

Much like your mother, you’ve been relegated to little more than a prop. Rumors of your beauty have spread far and wide, but that’s the only thing you’re allowed to be known for. Your days are spent learning how to sit correctly, how to curtsy nicely, how to embroider with alarming precision. How to please others.

Jaeyun’s never lost too much sleep about it. After all, a life in the palace, even a suffocating one, is still a luxury. He doubts you’ve ever had to wonder where your next meal would come from. You probably have actual cake on your birthdays, not makeshift concoctions that would taste significantly better if only you had a bit of butter.

But Sunghoon is insistent. “It’s true. I heard it from Sunoo. You know, he’s friends with that boy that works at the palace.”

“Well then Sunoo’s lying too.” Jaeyun’s words are clipped. He doesn’t have long to slip away if he wants to be gone by the time the procession arrives. “She’s never been in public before.”

Locked up in a palace for your whole life. For a moment, Jaeyun almost feels sorry for you. There’s nothing he loves more than an open field, wide and endless, under a starlit sky.

Taking a step forward, Sunghoon shakes his head. His voice is low when he adds, “Apparently it’s her birthday today. That’s why she’s here. They want to show her off a bit.”

The shock fades quickly. It’s not that strange of a coincidence, Jaeyun supposes, that the two of you share a birthday.

Jaeyun shakes his head firmly. He hopes it conveys a sense of finality. “I’m not staying.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Suit yourself. But I know a spot with a great view.” He jerks his chin to the left. “Just over the butcher’s shop. An old abandoned attic that no one uses anymore.”

Jaeyun hates himself for hesitating. Mostly because that small window of uncertainty is all Sunghoon needs.

“Come on,” he urges. “No one will see you. I promise.”

And it’s not like Jaeyun has that much stake in all of this, but Sunghoon was right. He is curious.

What is it like, he wonders, as Sunghoon leads him up a hidden set of stairs to the attic he pointed to earlier, to live your life at the epicenter of a well-oiled machine?

Do you know? That people like him have to fight to survive? That making it to twenty-two is something remarkable? Do you care?

Jaeyun can’t imagine why you would.

Still, as the procession draws near, Jaeyun feels his heartbeat quicken with it. Until it matches the cadence of the horse hooves coming closer and closer.

Until finally, finally, he gets his first glimpse of the first real royal procession he’s stuck around for in years.

Until he gets his first glimpse of you.

You’re pretty, he’ll give you that, but the more he studies you, the stronger the strange flicker of… disappointment begins to swirl in his gut.

From your seat in the pristine carriage you ride in, your posture is impeccable and your wave towards the crowd is fit for royalty.

You look exactly like a princess. He’s not sure why he expected anything different.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, doesn’t seem so satisfied with the glimpses of you he gets from the attic window. Eyes still locked on your carriage, he says, “I’m going to get closer.”

“What?” Jaeyun hisses. It’s a bad idea. A terrible one, actually. And no matter how much Sunghoon annoys him, he doesn’t want to see the boy thrown in prison. Or worse, dead. “What do you mean, closer?”

But Sunghoon is already gone. Disappeared down the stairs that the two boys entered from only a handful of minutes ago. And now Jaeyun is alone.

Sliding an open palm down his face, he watches as your carriage fades from his limited view. Flour and sugar still in his pocket, he’ll have to wait now. At least an hour, probably, before the coast is clear enough to return home. He just prays Sunghoon manages not to do something too stupid before then.

Maybe he does have a bit of birthday luck, after all. A few moments later, he hears footsteps on the stairs again.

“You finally saw sense,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I tried to tell you that a closer look at some girl isn’t worth risking your life for.”

But Sunghoon doesn’t respond. Eyes rolling, Jaeyun assumes that he must not have found a better view and is deciding to sulk about it now. Fully prepared to rub salt in the wound. Jaeyun turns around fully.

But he was wrong. It’s not Sunghoon that he’s looking at. Or at least, he doesn’t think it is.

The figure who stands motionless at the top of the stairs is covered in a dark, shapeless cloak that extends all the way to the floor and has a hood that fully conceals its wearer’s face.

It’s also at least a head shorter than his friend.

Still, Jaeyun can’t help but hope. “Sunghoon?”

As if suddenly remembering themselves, the figure spins on their heel, turning back the way they came.

A thick sense of unease is building in Jaeyun’s gut. He has no idea who this stranger is, but it’s not Sunghoon. Quickly, awful scenarios begin to plague his mind.

What if it’s a spy? He wonders. A member of the royal guard. Someone here to report him for trespassing, if not one of his worse crimes.

Jaeyun can’t let that happen. Not when he’s made it this far. With all of his reflexes locking into gear, he lunges forward. His long fingers encircle the stranger’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

Still, they try to shake him. And for a moment, they’re successful. The wrist in his hand slips from his grip. But Jaeyun doubles down.

This time, he’s less hesitant. When he reaches for the figure, he grabs them by the waist instead. The struggle is noble, but brief.

In the span of a single heartbeat, Jaeyun has the cloaked stranger pinned beneath him on the attic floor, his knees encircling their rib cage as his hands pin both arms above their head.

Chest heaving, Jaeyun assesses the sight beneath him. In the struggle, the stranger’s hood has fallen loose, revealing a striking set of features.

And hair. Lots of it.

“You’re a girl,” Jaeyun’s breathes, just at the same time a devastatingly feminine voice accuses,

“You.”

“Me?” Jaeyun frowns. He’s never seen you before. Of that, at least, he’s positive. He would have remembered a face like yours.

Delicate and feminine and pretty in all the ways that make his mind spin, you’re a vision beneath him. One that almost has him forgetting the severity of the situation.

That is, until you lay another scathing accusation at his feet. “The corn thief.”

“Corn thief?” Warning bells are starting to sound in Jaeyun’s mind again. He’s been seen. He’s been caught. “You do work for the palace.”

Still on your back between his knees, your hands pinned above your head, your gaze is discerning. With rather flat intonation, you state, “We’re all citizens of the crown, are we not? We all serve the king.”

“Sure,” Jaeyun concedes, “but you actually work for them.” The reality of the situation, the severity of jt, is not lost on him. “You’ll report me to your superior and have me thrown in jail.” Or worse.

The only acknowledgement you give is a slightly raised eyebrow. Jaeyun hates himself a little for thinking that it makes you even prettier. “You make a lot of assumptions don’t you?”

“Are you new here?” He retorts. Sarcasm embeds itself into every word. “That’s kind of how things work.”

For a moment, you just look at him. Even though he’s above you, even though your arms are still firmly within his grip, Jaeyun has to fight the urge to squirm under your gaze. And then you sigh. “I’m not going to report you.” Sending a meaningful look towards his hands above your head, you ask, “Could you get off of me now?”

It’s probably stupid, the way he obeys your command so quickly. But there’s something in your voice, something that rings with authority. He’s scrambling off of you with a speed that’s almost comical.

You are slower to rise, rubbing at your freed wrists while you draw yourself to full height. Looking at you like this, Jaeyun almost thinks that he must have hit his head in the scuffle.

You’re not just pretty. You’re gorgeous. Disarmingly so. Jaeyun would be the first to admit that he hasn’t spent much time around girls, that he doesn’t have much to compare you to, but he’s still certain you’re in possession of a rare kind of beauty. Or, at least, one tailored specifically for him.

Despite his sudden fixation, your last words still ring in his mind. I’m not going to report you.

“You’re not?” He’s hesitant to believe it.

“No, I…” you trail off for a moment, unsure how to phrase your desire. “I want to help you, actually.”

He really must be concussed. “You want to help me?”

“I mean, not you specifically.” Looking around the attic, you seem to be talking to yourself more than him when you mutter, “Ugh. Jungwon swore this room would be empty.”

Still, Jake hears you. And he’s stuck on one word. Jungwon. It sounds so familiar. But why? Why does he know that name?

It takes him another minute of wracking his brain, but he does eventually locate the source of the familiarity. Sunoo. Jungwon is the name of Sunoo’s friend who works at the…

At the palace.

It’s not like he’s surprised that you’re closely associated with the royals, but based on what Sunoo gossips about with Sunghoon, Jungwon works rather closely with the royal family themselves. With the princess.

For a moment, all Jaeyun can do is stare at you. And then he asks, “Who are you?”

Your smile is wry, and it doesn’t reach your eyes. But your curtsy is perfect, even if you’re mocking him. “Princess ___. It’s a pleasure.”

Jaeyun rolls his eyes. How stupid do you think he is? He may just be a commoner, but he’s not an idiot. “Does that actually work on people? You know, the whole town just saw her ride by in a carriage. Literally less than ten minutes ago. And you,” Jaeyun makes quick work of scanning you head to toe, “are not her.”

“The whole town just saw Karina ride by in a carriage,” you correct.

Jaeyun frowns. “Who’s Karina?”

“My favorite handmaiden.”

Again, all Jaeyun can do is look at you. His jaw opens. Closes again. He has the distinct feeling he looks rather similar to the fish laid out on ice in the market beneath you. “You… you’re actually the princess.”

“Like I said,” you don’t bother to curtsy fully this time, just nod in a small bow, “it’s a pleasure. It’s actually kind of lucky that I ran into you here.” Jaeyun watches as your demeanor shifts, sarcasm turning to something far more serious. “So, corn thief, what can you tell me about the patrols they run near the corn crop fields?”

“Why?” Jaeyun doesn’t bother to mask his suspicion. “So you can reinforce them? Or apprehend me next time?”

“No,” you counter, “so I can pass the information along.”

It’s far too vague for his liking. “To…”

You look at him for a moment, as if deciding how much or your trust you’re willing to place in him, too. Finally, you say, “To people who might need it.”

Before he can press you further or ask what that means, Jaeyun hears the sound of trumpets again. A slightly different three note pattern than before.

“Shit…” You curse under your breath, Jaeyun hates the way it makes him feel hot beneath his clothes. “I have to go,” you tell him. “You know the old oak tree? The one near the mouth of the river?”

Jaeyun nods, suddenly distrustful of his voice.

“I’ll leave you a note there.” You’re already pulling your hood up over your head again, wrapping the cloak back around your body. “Check it tomorrow after midnight. It will tell you when and where to meet me.”

Jaeyun frowns. “But I—”

“What’s your name?” you interrupt. “I can’t call you corn thief forever.”

“Jaeyun,” he tells you after a beat. “Sim Jaeyun. But wait, I—”

“Tomorrow,” you reiterate, looking at him one last time. “After midnight.”

“But—” Jaeyun tries to protest one final time. It’s no use. You're already gone.

Out loud to an empty attic, Sim Jaeyun finally admits, “But I can’t read.”

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STOPPP I'm kind of obsessed with them......

send me an idea for a drabble!

#jake fanfic #jake fanfiction #jaeyun fanfic #jaeyun fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #jake drabble #jaeyun drabble #enhypen drabble #jake x you #jake x reader #Enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #jake sim fanfic #jake sim fanfiction #jake sim x you

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