#Vanderwood Mystic Messenger

[marshmallowprotection]

Mystictober Day 13

Mystictober 2024 | Day 13: VanderwoodxMC/Secret

"You better stop eyeing me like that."

"Why? I can't help but feel curious about you. You’ve worked with Saeyoung for years, and as much as you try to hide it, I know you care about him a lot. Even when your life's on the line, you do as much as possible for his sake. You might value yourself first in this dog-eat-dog world, but I don't think you can hide how much you care about him."

"There's not much to learn."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true. You've just been suffocating yourself for so long to survive in a tough environment, Mr. Vanderwood. There is plenty about you to learn, but it seems you might need to learn about yourself all over again, just like the rest of us."

Vanderwood scoffed.

It made sense for someone like you to think on the bright side of the world. You saw sunshine and roses anywhere you went, not different from that lover boy of yours, he thought. You wanted to find good in all sorts of places, even in spaces that were dark and ruined by time and grief. He couldn't believe in that crap anymore, they'd beaten it out of him a long time ago.

But, he couldn't deny that you had a point.

He didn't have to do half the stuff he did for that brat. But, his damn eyes... they'd been so lifeless when they first met. It reminded him of how he looked after the agency took him in. He knew he would save his own ass first if it came down to it, if he protected every kid who'd been forced into the agency, he would've died like his predecessor... and they told him to survive first.

He would survive... no matter what.

Vanderwood just never thought he would have to learn how to survive in a different way... in a different world. A world that he'd assumed was long gone. He never thought he would be able to... comfortably exist without a weapon against the back of his head.

"I don't know a life outside of the agency," he eventually said. It was his only way of settling his thoughts. "I have family out there, people who probably missed me for what it's worth, but I wouldn't know how to open up a door I closed a long time ago."

"I didn't know how to talk to Saeyoung, y'know," Saeran said, his voice blanketing the space around them as he entered the room with a tiny quirk on his brow. "I pretended to be asleep for two days because... I didn't know how to talk to him properly. I missed him but how do you talk after it's been years since you last spoke? [Y/N] taught me that it doesn't matter what you say, it's that you say something at all."

He snorted, "Even if it's a lame 'hello'?"

"It wouldn't be lame if they missed you," you said.

God, Vanderwood hated being around people who believed in light and hope all the time... it almost made him believe, too.

[pastelsapphy]

A thought crossed my mind: between MC and Saeyoung, who proposes first? (I know SE 2.07 talks about Saeyoung proposing, but bear with me). I think if asked, they might say that, technically, it was Vanderwood.

Saeyoung probably isn't quite as confident as he seems. So MC bites the bullet the next time they get to rest. Curled up against each other in the dark of night, with no one and nothing but each other.

"So... they called me Saeran's sister-in-law, hm?"

And they feel Saeyoung tense up beside them. If any one trait describes Saeyoung, it's fear. He has always been afraid--of his mother, his father, the agency boss, of all the people he's pissed off coming for his head. He was afraid of anything bad happening to Saeran (seeing your worst fears come to life right before your eyes does wonders for anxiety, doesn't it?), of anything he's done coming back to hurt those he cares about.

He had been afraid of his friends seeing beyond the 707 mask, of them ever seeing the real him, because surely they would hate him. The real him was not someone to be loved. The real him was not someone to keep around. 707 could have friends (for a while), even Luciel could have friends (temporary as they were). But he had tried to bury Saeyoung, the scared little boy who was unloved by everyone except his other half.

But MC came along and held out a hand. With their help, Saeyoung dared to pull himself from his grave. They pushed through the masks that were 707 and Luciel to unearth Saeyoung, still lost and scared and desperate to protect everyone.

The thing is, those fears don't go away overnight--if they ever do. He knows MC says they love him, that they're in this for the long haul, but he's still half convinced he's going to wake up and find himself still at his desk, an imprint of his keyboard stamped into his face and nothing beside him but empty bags of chips.

So he falls back on his default defense mechanism: laugh it off. But the chuckle he forces out is strained, even to his ears. "Ah, yeah. Ha ha... sorry if that, uh, made you uncomfortable or anything."

MC just hums. Saeyoung feels the vibrations where their face is tucked against his neck. "What about you?"

Their breath is hot on his neck and god, he already can't think when he's around them. Yes, his brain screams. I love it. I want you to be his sister-in-law. I want you to be my spouse, my partner. I want to be your husband. I want it, I want it, I want it.

But, as he has always been, Saeyoung is afraid. What if this is what scares them off (and not, you know, his drugged and brainwashed brother or the agency that tried to kill them all)? What if they don't want to be tied to him that way? He still thinks MC deserves better than him, even if he's been selfish enough to accept them.

He must take too long to respond, because MC shifts back just enough to look up at him. Their eyes seem to sparkle in the darkness. "Saeyoung."

He looks away and they gently press a hand to his cheek. They're warm, so warm, melting him inside and out. Like a hot drink after coming in from the cold. "You're thinking too loud," they say.

"Haha, am I?" Is his voice shaking? He hopes not.

"Don't overthink this. How did you feel?"

He's afraid. He's so, so afraid. He knows how to push past fear; he knows how to turn it into a weapon for himself, but this isn't a battle. There's nothing to fight.

"It... umm..." he starts. Getting the words out of his mouth feels like wading through mud. "I... well... it uh..."

And then MC's lips are on his. Gentle, almost chaste. A means to redirect his attention more than anything.

"Do you want to know how it made me feel?" They whisper against him.

With all higher brain function having ceased, the only thing Saeyoung can do is nod.

He feels MC's lips curl into a smile. "A little dissapointed, because I'm not his in-law yet."

Saeyoung's head spins as he tries to process their words. "Oh... uh... you mean... you want...?"

MC chuckles and kisses him again. "I would love to be Saeran's in-law. Which means..."

Saeyoung swallows and finally meets MC's eyes. There's love in their gaze, but also a twinkle of mischief. Tease.

"You want to be my... wife?" He almost can't believe what he's saying might be true.

MC chuckles again. "Yes, Saeyoung. I want to be Saeran's sister-in-law; I want to be your wife; and I want you to be my husband."

And his head is spinning and MC kisses him again and he's falling. It's more than he's ever dreamed of and he's so scared to lose it but more than anything--he's excited. Saeyoung hasn't been excited in a long time. He's never looked forward to the future. It was never worth looking forward to.

When their lips part and he can think again, he says, "Does this count as a proposal? Because I can do better than that."

MC chuckles again. "You can give me a ring later, when this is all over."

He pauses, feeling unsure again. "Are you sure that's what you want?" He asks, barely above a whisper.

He yelps when MC gently nips his collarbone. "You're stuck with me, Saeyoung Choi. You're not getting rid of me so easily."

And he laughs, real this time. "Okay, okay! I won't let you go so easily, either. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Saeyoung."

("Technically, I proposed," Saeyoung will say.

"You certainly got down on one knee with a ring," MC will say. "But me and Vandy still beat you to the punch."

And Saeyoung will pout, but there's no sadness behind it. And MC will kiss him, because he's adorable when he pouts. And they will concede that, yes, Saeyoung is the one who offically proposed.

"But we still did it first," they will say, and Saeyoung will concede.)

[mochiimiiki]

| Vanderwood Route |

Summary: The sirens echoed around you, drowning out the now muffled screams of pain, fear and anger. A part of you was unsure if any of the sounds were coming from you as you dragged yourself across the floor, inexplicably burning up. Everything around you was fiery hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Just how did you get yourself into this predicament? 

A/N: Okay! Hi guys, so sorry for not posting but here have the first chapter for this Vanderwood fic, that will have 11 Chapters (maybe a bonus too) in total! Enjoy my crappy fic :)

Spoilers for Another Story etc.

Warnings: innuendos, trigger warnings of blood, death, violence, gunshots scenes, Vandy swears

If any of these make you uncomfortable then feel free to skip said scenes or to ignore this! 

{Day One}

Your eyes narrowed at the phone. It wasn’t overly old, definitely an iphone of sorts but certainly was one of the older bands. You double checked the address that flared up at you. Practically demanding you to open the door. A gut wrenching feeling of uncertainty settled in your stomach as you stared at the apartment before you. So far the only off putting thing about the scenario was the slightly creepy vibes that you got off of the ‘unknown’ guy. Having one last final debate with yourself you typed in the password and stepped inside.

The apartment was as clean as a crisp, it had the appearance of one of those set-up walk in homes that were trying to make a sell on the real estate market. For a moment you feared this might be a set up to some show. “Hello?” You called meekly, sheepishly peaking your head inside. “Uh, I have your phone?” No answer.

Suddenly, the phone in question buzzed incessantly.

You had just entered a new chat, with people (or so you presumed it was people) who were unaware of your presence. That was until the one labelled 707 started spamming the chat with a string of ‘AAAAH’s. 

707: HOWD ZOU GRT HERE!!!!!!!

yoosung ☆: typos lolol

yoosung ☆: seven wht u on- OMG STRANGER DANGER?!

Jumin Han: ?

Jaehee: ? seconded

ZEN: Seven did you let... someone in?

707: NO IDNT

ZEN: typos... again.

You watched the chaos unfold in the chat, utterly bewildered. Just who were these... people? Why did it matter you entered their chatroom, it was just a chatroom? Besides it was clear that this phone had the app on it before, so you were just using their phone surely it wasn’t such a surprise... It was the same name after all, right?

MC: Uh... hi?

yoosung ☆: EEP! It talks!!!!!!!

Jumin Han: How did you gain access to our messenger? Luciel?

707: HOLD ON CHECKING CAMERS!!!!

Cameras? You gasped and spun around to the door, searching for the cameras, surely they weren’t spying on you? That’s when your face dropped. There placed perfectly above the door was a small black camera, hidden in the corner of the hallway, unnoticeable if not pointed out. You gave the camera a sheepish wave and held up the phone before typing in the chat.

MC: Sorry to barge in! I was given the address and code to return this phone I found um... who owns this phone?

707: No way... guys she accessed Rika’s apartment. She’s standing there right now in the hallway. 

yoosung ☆: SHEWHAYT!?

*V has entered the chatroom*

Jumin Han: V? Do you know this girl?

Your mind, to say the least, was fried. You hadn’t intended on causing such a ruckus today. In fact, all you wanted to do today was search for a new apartment while you tried to escape the clutches of your crazed, lunatic of a roommate. However, looking at the situation here made you double back on your decisions and debate on retreating to the psycho you deemed your roommate.

MC: UM... look i really mean no bother I really was trying to return this, the guy on the phone told me to come here... does Rika own the phone can I give it to her?

V: MC... is it? Listen there is a cafe down the street from you, would you mind meeting me there? I’ll be there in about ten minutes.

V: Luciel.

707: ...ye?

V: Call me.

*V has left the chatroom*

You stood there dazed. What... just happened? You didn’t even get a chance to interject. The members each seemed just as dazed as you were, still debating with themselves whilst you had an internal argument on the plan to go see this mysterious guy you just met on the internet or bail this crazy scheme entirely. 

Feeling no less unnerved than you had when you arrived you decided your best bet would be to put up with this crazy half thought out plan. Nothing terrible could truly happen. You were meeting him in a public place after all. After bidding these new members a strange farewell you grabbed your bag that lay halfheartedly against the too painfully white walls and headed out in pursuit of this cafe the mysterious V had mentioned. 

You checked the address that V had forwarded to you, making sure once again that this was the place you had arranged. You sat down apprehensively, jumping in the swivel stool as each person entered. You had no idea what he looked like, and until now just realised you had been in fact guessing he was a he, the little icon from your previous chat provided little leeway for your guesses. Your thoughts disturbed when a quiet voice snapped your spiralling queries.

“Hello, I hope you’re MC?” 

Your eyes lifted from your phone taking in the person before you. Your guesses were right; he was a man, and certainly not just any man… he had the face of a model! You could’ve sworn an inaudible ‘wow’ escaped your lips as you took in his dishevelled turquoise locks that curled perfectly into his face and framed his defined cheekbones. And the way in which his eyes slanted ever so slightly, provided him a look belonging to the wise. Oh and his eyes, he had such gentle, kind eyes. Immediately you felt a tension lift from your shoulders (one you hadn’t realise had settled there), as he took away your worries with a soft hum and warm eyes. 

“May I take a seat?”

“Please.”

V ran through a bunch of things, things that left you sitting there utterly bewildered once more. The day just gradually became more and more confusing.

“I would like something to ask of you, MC?”

“Hm?” You hummed politely glancing up to meet his soft gaze from your steaming coffee. “I hope...” He began, voice akin to his kind eyes. “That you would join the R.F.A.”

At that you choked on your sip, dismissing V’s worried hands as he tried to comfort your coughing fit. You? Join them? You didn’t even know these people! It comforted you even less when he insisted you stay in the apartment. Especially after learning that it belonged to his ex-fiancee. You didn’t know how to process this information, much less relay your reluctance about the whole idea to the head of the organisation, no less. However long you took to answer V sat back with a gentle smile, patience evident through his body language. He really did appear like an angel to you. 

“Um... while I appreciate your offer... sir, I really did just want to return the phone.”

“I completely understand.” He returned, same level of confidence and patience unwavering in his words. “I just feel that because of such... unusual circumstances in which you came to find our little app it may prove to be an issue for you.”

“Issue?” You echoed, confusion written in bold letters across your furrowed brows.

“Only a hunch.” He smiled back, once again his warmth evaporating any worries that may have previously infested your mind. Your fingers itched and your knee bounced anxiously beneath the table. “Alright...” You began slowly, swallowing your coffee as you allowed his words to truly sink in. “May I at least think on it, like have a nights sleep and... uhm tell you tomorrow? Or something?” 

“I wouldn’t ask anything more of you.” He nodded contemplating your request. For a moment you feared that he wouldn’t let you go and would kidnap you to be apart of this charity organisation, as though it were a kind of cult. But you were quickly reminded that this was not in fact a movie or soap opera, or drama thing of any kind and in reality things such as cults and kidnappings didn’t happen to ordinary people such as yourself. 

V pushed the little rickety french chair away from the table, the cafe he had chosen seemed to fit him so well. It was petite and had a frenchesque style, something that seemed very befitting to a man so beautiful. “Reach out to me tomorrow, I’ll tell Luciel to grant you access. And for now I welcome you temporarily to the R.F.A, until you’ve made your decision.”

And with that the two of you departed, shaking hands like old friends do.

You slumped back in the chair allowing your brain to catch up with the speed of events. In just three hours you found yourself with a new phone, an apartment to rest in and a job of sorts.

You debated whether or not pinching yourself would bring you any kind of consolation or just a little bruise. Sipping the rest of your coffee you decided to make your way back to the pristine apartment, which to V’s request you would sleep in until you came to your decision. Maybe it was naive of you to trust his kind smile and warm-hearted words. But suddenly you felt a perk to your walk and thought that maybe life could get more sunny afterall.

- - - Vanderwood - - -

Kicking the gravel from under his foot Vanderwood stalked up the driveway with a scowl etched onto his handsome features. He was furious. How was it his job to be involved with the stupid red headed brat? It wasn’t like he was the lazy one mucking about. But alas, ever since they’d assigned him to the weird red head kid Vanderwood’s life had been utter chaos. More so than the usual.

Vanderwood banged on the door. “Yo Seven, open this damn thing.” Briefly the air went still and time froze. Raising a fist to continue pounding the gate finally clicked and slowly opened. Vanderwood scoffed. “Trust him to only let me in when he thinks I’m gonna wreck his precious creation.”

Seven spun around to face Vanderwood with a wicked grin. “Oh Mary have you come to look little ol’ me?” He blinked, feigning innocence. Vanderwood folded his arms - thoroughly unimpressed.

“No, I’ve come to tase some sense into that thick skull of yours.” Seven mumbles something unintelligible as her turned back to his screens. Vanderwood momentarily cringed. He truly thought that staring at those screens all day might one day give Seven square eyes. “Jesus, would you look at the state of this place?”

“Mary!” Seven gasped. “That is utter blasphemy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“To think you’d use such language.” Seven tutted, shaking his red locks to and fro as his fingers stilled. Vanderwood scowled, glaring daggers into the backs of his head. “It’s shameful, Mary.”

“Not my name.” Vanderwood’s eyes lazily drawled over his screens, observing with little interest just what Seven was up to. With an audible sigh Vanderwood realised just why the red had been slacking off. “Are you shitting me? The charity shit? Seven - fuck - I told you before, I’m only letting it slide if you actually do your work.”

Seven remained quiet, his body tensed. Vanderwood knew immediately that Seven was guilty. It didn’t take a genius to read body language. Vanderwood toed a packet of filthy crisps away, he felt a headache coming on. Slipping out his cigarette packet he was determined to let off some steam, figuratively and literally.

“Oh no you don’t.” Seven cut in, spinning in his chair to face Vanderwood with a rare scowl. “If you’re going to do that, smoke it outside.”

“It’s cold.” He retorted.

“Don’t care. My house, my rules.” He waved Vanderwood off, making the latter grumble out in protest. Before the two could begin arguing Seven’s computer bleeped.

“Is that the work for your man? Is it done?” Vanderwood stuffed the cigs back into his pocket, determined to sneak one later.

Seven shook his head. “No, I’m running a background test on someone.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly, mouse clicking across the screen.

“MC…” Vanderwood read her full name aloud, eyes scanning over the rest of her features. Age details, family, job, hobbies. At first glance she appeared to be any other girl, simple and ordinary. He frowned. What did she have to do with anything? Unless she worked for a rivalry agency?

“She’s just regular.” Seven tutted, as though reading Vanderwood’s thoughts. “As suspected… but how’d she even manage to get in then?”

“In?”

“The chatroom.”

“Damn it! You’re doing personal shit? Seven-”. The screen flashed and was replaced with a black reflection. The two exchanged glances before suddenly green code sprung up with a message - I’ll Hack It All. Vanderwood stared blankly, before scoffing. “Did you go and get yourself an arch nemesis? Congrats you can be that Dames Bond you rave about.”

“Vanderwood.” Seven cut in, incredibly serious for a change of pace. Vanderwood raised a brow, debating how likely it would be the younger agent might actually kill him if he smoked in his place.

“I need a favour.”

[natasha-in-space]

A Playful Afternoon

Vanderwood/gn!reader;

Your daily life with Vanderwood is one filled with domestic bliss and warm comfort for you both to enjoy. But, that doesn't mean your partner can't spice things up every once in a while, right? And all it takes is just one teasing comment on your part.

"The hell's all that?"

You didn't even need to raise your eyes at Vanderwood's face to confirm the annoyance that could be felt clear as day the moment they first opened their mouth to speak. Though, not like you could physically do that, even if you wanted to. Not with your arms full of trinkets, boxes and bags of various size. Frankly, it took all of your concentration just to keep them from tumbling down all over the floor! Regardless, you kept on smiling as you gave him your answer, awkwardly swaying in one place in order to keep your small mountain of presents safe and sound. "They're gifts!"

"I swear, if it was your birthday today and you didn't tell me for whatever reason, you're not getting any of my promised bibimbap tonight."

You burst out laughing at such an adorable remark as you finally managed to free yourself from the weight of your souvenirs by carefully placing them on the couch beside your grouchy partner. Sparing a quick glance at their sulky pout was all that was needed to confirm your initial suspicion. He was upset. And maybe... even a little bit jealous? Regardless, you shook your head at their first assumption, eager to rid them of any unnecessary worries. You were not someone who tended to mess with them like that. "Haha, no, don't worry. I wouldn't do that to you! I guess since it's my first proper party after the whole chaos with the bomb and all that, the RFA decided to spoil me. If I knew that was going to happen, I would have brought you with me! I mean, do you have any idea how hard it was to bring all of this here without breaking anything or falling flat on my face in the process?"

"You should have just texted me then, you dummy." Vanderwood grumbled under his nose, his rough voice softening to an almost shy tone as he lowered himself next to your side and placed a quick welcoming kiss to your forehead. You hummed in appreciation, leaning into this quiet gesture of affection, a warm smile creeping onto your lips as soon as you breathed in their cozy scent so close to you.

You missed them.

"I know you don't like big and loud events like that." You replied, picking up one specific tray of intricate chocolates that Zen has given to you and bringing one of the sweets up to his lips with a lighthearted giggle. They stared at it, their dark brown eyes widening in surprise ever so slightly, before their shoulders slowly relaxed and they took the chocolate from your fingers, a light blush quickly covering their cheeks as they moved away. You didn't tease them for their reactions, even if you wanted to. After all, you knew how much it meant for Vanderwood to show so much of his hidden vulnerability to someone. And, he was still learning. Living a free life is a process that the former agent was only starting to get used to, and you were patient with him. "Besides, if it was my birthday, I'd rather spend it with you and only you. Frankly, I don't even need any gifts. Maybe only your cooking. So, you got nothing to worry about. But... it's cute that you're thinking of me in this way."

Much to your surprise, this time it was them who took the initiative, reaching down into a pile of presents and picking up a certain plush that has clearly gotten their attention. To be fair, you didn't even have to guess twice to know, who it was from. Judging by their raised brow, they were not that impressed with this choice of gift giving.

"A Longcat plush, really? I guess I should be grateful that kid did not give you a fire breathing robot or something just to spite me. I sure hope he didn't give you this in front of that handsome actor of yours, though. That would be quite a sight to behold."

"Thankfully not." You snickered, stroking the soft fur of the plush. Saeyoung sure was excited to give you this first hand. That redheaded boy loved cats to bits and pieces, so it's only fair for him to share this love with his loved ones. Or, well... More like you were one of a few people who were willing enough to humor his extended babbles about cats and all that was great about them. Could this be considered a gift of his friendship, then? "But I wouldn't put it past him. He also thanked me for being by your side. Said he's glad you found someone who made you less grumpy and uptight!"

"I am not uptight."

"Sure you're not." You merely smirked, watching him puff out his cheeks in defiance. A part of you wanted to poke him and watch him try and find believable excuses that would defend his case against you. "You're just... old fashioned!"

"That is not better!" Vanderwood huffed, now crossing both of their arms across their chest and glaring daggers at you, like an irritated cat who's tail just been pulled. You could see now why Saeyoung had such a knack for poking fun at his supervisor.

"What? I like old fashioned!"

He merely narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not pleased with your answer.

"Are you calling me an old man or something?"

"Pfft- Where did that even come from!?" Laughter bubbled up deep within your chest, getting harder and harder for you to hold it back. Much to your partner's displeasure, you were finding this predicament much too amusing. Though, before you could slip away and return to your relaxed gift unpacking, you found a pair of big hands placing themselves onto your shoulders, keeping you seated neatly on your place.

Eager to see what's going to come next, you only watched silently, as they slowly leaned forward, their forehead almost touching yours. A few strands of their soft hair tickled playfully at the skin of your warm cheeks, as if they were testing your endurance for this next challenge that was soon to come. Vanderwood's voice came out husky and intense, making a shiver ran down your spine, as you stared deep within their dark eyes. "So. First you come back from your fun party with hands full of presents, and now you're making fun of me? Say, what am I supposed to think here?"

You gulped, your teasing grin slowly turning into one of embarrassment and nervousness. It's not like he was seriously angry with you. You could see that. This was a different kind of questioning, one that was making you read between the lines and create a whole plethora of fun scenarios in your own head.

Vanderwood wasn't a jealous man. Insecure at times, maybe, but they respected your privacy and encouraged you forming meaningful connections with other people. No, this wasn't a matter of petty jealousy. This was a challenge, a game.

One you were willing to play all night, if you had to.

"Hm... I don't know. Maybe I want you to make a guess, Vandy?" You muttered in response, tilting your head just enough for you to flutter your lashes at them in such a way that would definitely make their heart flutter. If you were going to play the game with them, you wanted to play to win.

Oh, how you loved seeing this fiery side of him every once in a while. Vanderwood wasn't a jealous man, but he was a passionate one, even if nobody else saw this side of him. No, it's not like they did not see it... Vanderwood simply didn't allow them to see it. Except for you, that is.

And that's a dangerous thought to ponder over.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you're too late for that, Y/N." Their low whisper was all the warning you were given, before their lips clashed into yours in a heated kiss that you were much too eager to return, despite your initial surprise at such a bold move coming from them.

You gasped into the kiss, feeling his hands slowly moving down your back and tracing the soft skin of your stomach in small circles under your shirt. Not quite rushing things, but still bold enough for you to stumble in a flustered reaction that would make them chuckle against your lips. You had no idea where this was going yet, but you did want to get closer to them, be it for the sake of this little game you were playing or your genuine desire to share such closeness with the person you love. Maybe the combination of both. Regardless, you showed no signs of discomfort, only placing one of your hands on Vanderwood's cheek to keep them close.

And, once you did pull away, you both were left a panting and blushing mess, your game of wit long forgotten. Not like you expected either one of you to keep up the facade for long in the first place. Heart hammering wildly against your ribcage, you finally found the right words to respond.

"So, uh- Can we kiss again, or..."

-Or so you thought.

"Straight to the point, huh?" They teased you, their thumb caressing your cheek. Granted, if it weren't for their touch, you'd probably burry your burning face into the nearest pillow from embarrassment. Why were you so damn awkward!? "Will you call me old fashioned again?"

Jeez, was this really bothering them that much? You knew they were peculiar in their preferences at times, but why the sensitivity around being called old fashioned? At least then you weren't the only awkward nerd in this room.

"I mean, if you wear a tuxedo then- Ah!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, you were lifted off the floor and draped over Vanderwood's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You couldn't even react much, except for your surprised yelp as you clutched onto their shirt with a death grip.

"Alright, that's it. Your gifts are going to have to wait, I think I have a very annoying and stubborn package to unpack." He stated matter-of-factly, easily striding off with you dangling off his shoulder as your shocked squealing soon turned into high-pitched giggling, with his own breathy laughter joining in a mere moment after.

[zyandraws]

Werewolf Vanderwood!!!

I Made it for the dtiys of 909.png on Instagram time ago!!

[cupcakefactory]

Hey! I was just wondering if you could maybe do a female reader x Vanderwood (or 707 if you feel more comfortable) where the reader gets involved in a mission of theirs (it was never intentional but they saw an opportunity to help resolve things I guess?) and it all works out, but Vanderwood/707 becomes mad at them because they could’ve been hurt? A little bit of angst/fluff y’know👀. No problem if you don’t feel comfortable at all. Thank you💗

Okay; first things first – I use they/them for vandy, vandy is our they/them monarch and we love them for it. Also my brain is being awkward today so MC has been given a temp name Onna, it means woman in Japanese.

ALSO SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I SWEAR I GOT DISTRACED MORE THAN 1000 TIMES WRITING

Writing under the cut ^^

WC: 1586

“What are you doing Onna?!”

A bellowing voice rings out from behind you, who was that? You recognised it enough.. but, you don’t actually know what you’ve done wrong. All you were doing was working your job, weren’t you? Serving a simple customer whatever they ordered. Twirling on your heals you meet vanderwoods menacing gaze – They looked angry that’s for sure. Vanderwood, your friend from childhood who you had rekindled with after joining, or well, being forced into the RFA. That felt like a while ago now – you still can’t believe just have naive you had been to accept an invitation from some stranger to test a game.

That is how you re-met Vanderwood, you had been on the run with 707 and V – hiding in a worn down shack in the woods when Seven announced his maid was going to be joining you both. A little strange, but from the few brief interactions you had had with Seven it wasn’t anything too unusual, actually, it kinda fit into his narrative for him to have a maid – however crazy that thought may sound to other people. You can still remember when you saw them again, you could recognise that face anywhere, although they had grown Vanderwood still looked nearly identical to how they did when they disappeared at 15. You couldn’t tell straight away if they recognised you back but after many backwards and forwards glances from them you came to the conclusion that if they didn’t recognise you they had grown into a bit of a creep.

“I..I’m working..”

Your voice sounded pathetic, honestly you had no idea why you still felt a little threatened by them. You lived with them, you had seen them prance around with a frilly pink apron on (Sevens request obviously, Vanderwood was not impressed and you did find yourself at times trying to hold by a laugh), scold seven holding a wooden spoon like a mother would her child and you’d seen them heal a sick V from the brink of death. You knew Vanderwood was a good person that’s why it confused you why you were so nervous of them right now – maybe it was the way their voice sounded at that moment, you had got use to hearing it in a more gentle tone when hanging out with just the two of you. You had even heard them laugh once or twice – although god forbid you tell Seven that, your world may as well end on the spot. The gentle tone was gone, replaced with a rough belting one. You wondered for a moment why people weren’t looking at them – they were making enough noise that the whole café should be aware of his presence.

“This isn’t time for Jokes.”

Their warm breathe against your ear made you jump, right, that’s why the whole café hadn’t turned round. Vanderwood was right behind you whisper-yelling in your ear, Maybe your creep theory from the cabin could have some truth behind it because this was totally creepy right now. You couldn’t really say anything back because – well you weren’t joking around. You were working, this is what you do, and yeah it sucks. Managing to ignoring his lingering loud presence you continued to work around the shop, picking up glasses and plates for the regular and new customers with the basic smile every retail or hospitality worker has been able to make, Making small chat with the elderly customers who make their way to the café every Friday for the same thing, a cup of tea and a slice of cake, they always had interesting stories you enjoyed listening too.

This seemed to piss Vanderwood off, how in the world could you be so damn calm right now when this whole café could be under attack at any second? For the first time in a while they felt themselves starting to panic, you had brought out the one emotion they never really wanted to feel. They loved you, god they loved you so much that they took on extra missions so they could insure the world was a safer place for you to live. It was selfish for them to love you, they knew that. You deserved someone like you, someone with a kind heart, someone who could make time for you in a way he never really would be able too. His whole like was about missions, even though they loved you, they would drop everything to do as their boss says. It’s the life they live, and it isn’t glamorous; and they defiantly don’t want you mixed up in it. But right now? Right now they didn’t have a choice, they knew the terrorists that HQ had warned them off where probably closing in with every second they spent wondering after you in a hurry, they had no choice. Tugging at your arm to force eye contact, they mutter something into your ear.

“Clear the floor. This café is under attack”

That surprised you, what?! The little café in the middle of Seoul that no one knew about what under attack? You nearly laughed until you saw Vanderwoods gaze, oh, they were serious. Anyone could recognise that, you went to say something back when you felt an object being placed very gently in the pocket of your apron. What was that..? Before the question left your lips – they were gone. Lifting your hand up to the pocket, you could have passed out from shock – the vague but recognisable outline of a handgun was easily detectable. The adrenaline that flooded through your body then, as you looked for the easiest way to get everyone out, grabbing a cup of oil you splashed it onto a burning hob – creating a magnificent display of yellow and orange flames, however, as much as you desired too you couldn’t sit around right now and watch the flames dance. You hit the fire alarm to get people moving outside when something was planted against your head.

“Huh?~ What have we here, hmm? A little informant from WISE {Yes I am unoriginal as fuck have spy x family content as well}?” Well that sickly sweet voice was certainly annoying as fuck, what was WISE? Well, using the 2 singular brain cells you seemed to hold at that moment it became pretty obvious that they thought you worked for the same Organisation as 707 and Vanderwood. Great, this is just great, they (as in Vanderwood) were telling the truth and now your stood in the middle of a burning café with what you can only assume is the head on a gun pushed against your skull, If this didn’t seem like one of those horrible nightmare you suffered from during childhood you weren’t too sure what did. You seemed to only have a second or two to think before it all became a blurred mess of voices, and most importantly gun shots. You aren’t sure at all what happened.. it just all went black.

“Onna?! Come on Onna.. don’t die on me now girl. Luciel come on!! Answer your damn phone that’s what you fucking have it for.”

That was a new form for that voice to take, It was laced with concern and worry in a way you had never heard before. What had happened to make Vanderwood so.. scared? You couldn’t tell.. until you went to sit up and a shooting stabbing pain made you pretty much yelp out. You were sure you should have screamed louder, but your throat and voice seemed sore – almost as if they had been the one injured. You tapped around your body, okay at least you were alive, well – you assumed ghosts couldn’t feel themselves or pain, you weren’t really too sure on this matter. Going to wipe the sweat on your forehead you notice that your hand is covered in blood, your blood, holy shit, you had been shot. Normal Friday am-I right lads. {I am so sorry}. It was probably a good job blood didn’t cause you too pass out cause there was a shit tone of it, dripping from everywhere… well that was an exaggeration, it was one bullet hole but, it felt like a lot more! You looked up to meet Brown eyes that looked the same way that voice from earlier sounded, Concerned. They were concerned.

“Oh thank.. im not religious, but thank whatever it up there that you are alive.”

Quickly, almost too quickly you were pulled into their arms, a small but almost happy sigh leaving their lips as they held your weak body against theirs. Until.. they pulled away and almost glared at you.

“What was that about?! Do you know that she would have killed ya? The gun was meant as a fucking last resort Onna, not to be used like a childs toy. Honestly if I knew you would be so irresponable with it I wouldn’t have fucking given it to you. No, don’t say anything. We are going to the hospital.”

You couldn’t say anything even if you wanted too, because behind that forced anger you could see tears forming in their eyes. Oh how you loved his idiotic man.. and oh how you knew you would help him again if he ever needed it.

[wytchia]

Please send me requests I'm bored

[luc606]

surprise! new fic! it’s rated M so I’ve decided not to cross-post, but you can read it on Ao3 here:

[sonendan]

Chats: Last day of Saeran AE

[blossyay]

Vanderwood: “this better be a part of your plan......″

[intr0verted-weird0]

Happy April Fool's Day 😝 2024

[marshmallowprotection]

What kind of a partner do you think would be best for Vanderwood?

Oh, that's an interesting question! Let's see, who would be the best fit for someone like Vanderwood? I imagine someone who isn't going to pull him into danger, that's for sure. He's tired, and he doesn't want to be involved in anything that's going to make him rip his hair out. It was hard enough in the agency and he doesn't want to leave that way anymore.

Given that he went back to the family he had to leave when he was younger to get into the agency for reason unknown, I think he wants to return to a small, relaxing life with no stakes. He doesn't want to be at the edge of danger and the corner of disaster! He wants to sleep in peace and not worry about Saeyoung building another device to stop doing the work that kept them from the hammer over their heads.

He is secretly a sweetheart, but he's rough around the edges, he will value his life and safety, but at the same time, he tries to look for the best way to take care of someone IF HE CAN. He puts himself first at any chance he can find, but if there's a way to help, he tries. It's truly one of the more fascinating things about him as a person when I sit down and think about him and what he does, since he can just flop between those two extremes so drastically.

With that in mind, what kind of person would balance out what he wants out of life? It's hard to say with certainty since there's so much we don't know about him, but given what we do know, we can speculate that the best kind of person for him is someone who values the same thing he does.

Someone who values their life and doesn’t care about the big picture, rather, someone who cares about the little details and all the pieces that come with it. His family is very important to him, after all, I feel like he went into the agency to take care of them or to take a burden off of their backs, so his willingness to go back to them shows that they mean something to him. 

It's the little moments, the things he's missed over the years that he can't get back but wants to experience as best he can now. Slowing down to smell the roses, that's the kind of dynamic he would need with a partner.

I'm not saying he wouldn't be willing to get with somebody who isn't like this, I'm just saying ideally speaking, I see him working with someone who isn't worried about the hustle and bustle, but rather the little things that make life special. 

There is something beautiful in mediocrity, and I don't think a lot of people realize that. Not everything has to be this or that on the ends of an extreme, you can settle comfortably in the middle for normal and average. It's okay to be happy with that. It's not settling, because you can never settle for something as long as you're happy with what you're doing. 

I see him with somebody who knows how to listen, somebody who knows how to laugh, but somebody who knows how to respect boundaries. He needs a partner who knows how to communicate and read the room, and sure, I see his partner as someone who is more gentle than he is, but can equally match his level when they need to. Does that make sense?

You can be a spitfire but... you know when to cool your breaks and choose kindness. I've seen a lot of people who love Vanderwood and there's really no right or wrong way to imagine being with him. There is no limit to what love looks like, after all, but man, if you ask me how I feel, his partner is someone who lives a quiet life and he would never let them be involved in the mayhem that's the RFA.

I don't think anyone would even realize he's got a wife/husband/partner at home until someone sees his wallet. He's a private guy, after all.

[pastelsapphy]

"I've told you before: I don't smoke or drink." The words are forced through clenched teeth and heavy breathing.

"I think you can make an exception this once."

Vanderwood has never met a more stubborn kid in their life. Anyone else with a wound that big would be begging for anything to dull the pain. And to be fair to Seven, he did ask for something... at first, anyway.

"I won't let you bleed out if that's--"

"I know you won't," Seven cuts in. I trust you, as much as people like us can be trusted, is something that remains unspoken but understood between them. "That's not my concern. Just get on with it."

Vanderwood huffs out an irritated sigh. "I don't think a few shots of whiskey will count."

"This is the last time I will say it: if the closest thing you have right now to a painkiller is a bottle of whiskey, then I won't take it. Just. Get. On with it."

Seven's eyes are hard and unwavering. Vanderwood knows they're not going to win this argument. Why is he being so stubborn? "This is going to hurt," they say.

"It already fucking hurts," Seven snaps through gritten teeth. "It's a stab wound."

"And it's going to hurt a hell of a lot more when I'm sewing it closed."

"I'll be fine. I can take it."

"You're going to have to hold as still as possible. And be as quiet as possible."

The safehouse they escaped to should be too far for anyone to follow. Should being the keyword. If they have been followed, and Seven screams, it'll mean a lot of trouble.

Seven nods. "Yeah. Yeah I can do that, just..." He looks around for a moment, then grabs his jacket where it lay on the bed behind him. He balls up part of it and shoves the fabric into his mouth, biting down hard. He says something that sounds like "do it" and squeezes his eyes shut too.

Vanderwood sighs. They're not keen on doing this without giving Seven anything to dull his senses, but the other option is letting the wound keep bleeding.

"Okay. Last chance. Because once I start, I'm not going to stop," Vanderwood warns.

Seven shakes his head in a firm, final no.

"Okay. Keep pressure on it while I set up."

A few minutes and a sanitized needle later, Vanderwood walks back over to where Seven sits on the bed. His breathing is audible and deliberate. Slow breath in, slow breath out. In. Out. In. Out. Trying to focus on anything other than his leg. Vanderwood digs a knee into Seven's leg to hold him still and, with the hand not holding the needle, pinches the sliced flesh together. Seven's breathing gets heavier.

"Hold still and keep breathing. I'll be as quick as I can."

Seven nods. He twists his hoodie tight in his fingers and bites down even harder.

He doesn't scream when the needle pierces his skin. They've been working together for a few years now, but Vanderwood is still surprised by the kid's pain tolerance. He's not completely unaffected--Vanderwood doesn't miss the sharp inhale when they start--but he doesn't scream. Just bites down harder on the wad of cloth in his mouth and trembles with the effort of keeping still.

It feels like it takes forever--probably feels even longer to Seven--but Vanderwood finally stitches the wound shut. They wrap a bandage snug around it and let out a breath. "Okay. It's done."

Seven gasps and yanks the hoodie from his mouth. He takes big, gasping breaths, like he's just come up from underwater. His whole face is red and damp--sweat running down his face and drool on his chin. Vanderwood grabs a clean cloth and sits back down next to him. "Tip your head up and take your glasses off; you're a mess," they say.

Seven does and Vanderwood sees his eyes are red too; the tracks running down his face aren't all from sweat. Vanderwood doesn't comment on it. They just wipe his face clean. They're a little heavy-handed at the best of times, but they try to be gentle. After a moment the cloth is tossed aside and they're handing him a bottle of water. "Drink. You lost a lot of fluids."

Again, Seven does. That's how Vanderwood knows he's beyond exhausted--no comments or smart-ass remarks.

Seven gulps down half the bottle before stopping to take more gasping breaths. "Thank you, Vanderwood," he huffs out.

"Hmph. Good to know you appreciate me for more than just cleaning your house all the time."

"I mean it," he says. "Truly. Thank you."

If Vanderwood has ever seen genuine honesty from him, then this is it. If not, it's as close as they'll ever get. It's exceedingly rare and they're never quite sure how to respond to it. "Don't worry about it. I can't have you dying on my watch. Now finish drinking that and get some sleep. You look dead, and we can't stay here too long."

Seven nods, chugging the rest of the water before lying back on the bed. He's out cold in seconds, leaving the cabin in silence. Vanderwood enjoys it while they can (they won't admit that they miss Seven's chatter when it's been gone too long). They start repacking their medical supplies and catch sight of the bottle of whiskey standing on the table.

They make a mental note to double check that they're stocked up on painkillers in the future.

[mochiimiiki]

guys maybe i should rename my “vanderwood route” to “forbidden fruits”, bcuz it sounds cooler

i’m all abt alliteration

[sapphireicecream]

🐆🩹

[killjoy-prince]

This is how this chat happened in Episode 1 of V's After Ending, right?