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kirstoons · 5 months ago

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SDV Sebastian x Female Farmer (Yandere)

Author: Me (kirstoons or Pink_Femonade)

Editor and Queef: @gayrahim

TRIGGER WARNING: NSFW, 18+ content, MDNI, mature and sexual themes

Author’s note: I’ve begun posting this fanfic on my newly created AO3 account (Pink_Femonade). I’m updating my AO3 before I post here so feel free to check it out if you want the latest content. Also, thank you everyone who’s been supporting my writing and also my fan art 💕

Chapter 3:

Summary: It seems like the universe is out to get you as your plans fall apart rapidly.

It’s 6:00 AM Tuesday, Fall 9 and instead of being woken up by your usual rooster call, you’re roused by the loud buzz of power tools. Clearly Robin has already begun her work, so you might as well get up so you can complete yours as well.

You peek out the window before you get ready, just to make sure she’s alone out there with no other members of her family, specifically Sebastian. Seeing that the coast is clear, you begin your morning routine. As you hastily shovel down your slightly-under fried eggs, you begin making plans as to how to handle your night away from the farm and any possible contingency plans should they fall through.

After finishing all your chores on the farm and giving a friendly wave to Robin, you head over to Leah’s house with one of your best aged bottles of cherry wine to help sweeten the deal. Not that it’s necessary since Leah is your closest friend here in the Valley, but it’s more of a “thank you” gift for when she happily agrees to let you spend the night this coming Thursday. Plus, it’ll give you a chance to tell her all the crazy shit that’s been happening with Sebastian (omitting certain details obviously).

As you approach Leah’s little cabin, you see her round the corner of her home with a concerned look on her face and phone to her ear. You only catch a few words at the end of her conversation before she spots you and proceeds to end the conversation. She waves and embraces you with a quick hug, still maintaining a worried look on her face.

“Hey, everything okay?”, you ask with genuine concern. It’s not often you see Leah this stressed out.

“Not really,” she half-heartedly chuckles with a defeated look in her eyes. “I have a wicked bad termite infestation so I’ve been on the phone with exterminators all morning. The fastest appointment any of them have is for tomorrow but because of how bad the infestation is, they’re gonna have to fumigate my house, which means I have to stay somewhere else for the next three days.” She gives an exasperated huff before she continues. “So… I’m looking for a temporary place to stay and also trying to move all my wood sculptures out of the termites path of destruction. Thankfully, the one thing they haven’t gotten to is those so I’m trying to keep it that way. Mayor Lewis said I can store my sculptures and supplies in the community center for the time being so… it’s something.” She looks down at the ground, collecting herself before and looks back up to you. “So what’s up with you?” she asks in a joking tone trying to maintain some optimism in the situation.

“Oh, I…” You debate whether or not to tell her you also needed a place to stay since your problem seems far less dire than hers. “I just wanted to stop by and give you this.” You hand her the hand-packaged bottle of wine with a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck, this is exactly what I need.” She pulls the cork out with her teeth and takes a very VERY long swig. With wine dribbling down her chin, she asks, “think you have room in that big ole farmhouse for one more?”

It’s hard to hide the true disappointment in your voice as you remind her that you’re having work done on the house and that you were also looking for a place to stay. You also apologize for being unable to help your good friend when she really needs you.

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot you were getting some work done. That’s exciting, though. And you don’t need to apologize. I’m sure Elliot will let me crash, especially if I bring this wine with me.” She glances down at the half drunk bottle of wine. “Or maybe I’ll get him some of Gus’s crab cakes.”

You both let out a light laugh which helps ease your minds and you part ways to focus on your next steps. Plan A was a bust and it was your most solid plan, making you a bit nervous. You remind yourself that you have contingency plans for this very reason. You take a deep breath to rally yourself as you begin walking to Sam’s house.

*****

“Oh shit, that sucks,” Sam says after you explain your situation to him. You even add Leah’s predicament to your story to show how your options are running out. He listens intently but sometimes you swear it’s going in one ear and out the other.

“So anyway, that’s why I was hoping I could crash with you? I know you’d need to ask your mom and I’m totally fine sleeping on the couch.” You try to plead your case as convincingly as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n, but I can’t. My little brother got some virus or something and now it’s spread to my mom, so the whole house is in quarantine.”

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!!!

“I bet Abby or Seb could help you out though,” he suggests with that sweet grin of his. He’s always so sweet and willing to help but hearing Sebastian’s name sends a cool chill down your spine. Damn, it’s impossible to be mad at Sam with his puppy dog expression and sweet sincerity. He’s always been so warm and kind to you, even when you were the new girl in town.

“Yeah, I’ll probably ask Abby next. Thanks, Sam.”

As you turn to leave, Sam calls out to you, “I bet Seb would prefer you ask him!” It’s an innocent tease, but you feel your cheeks burn bright red as you try to laugh along with him at his little “joke”. You bury your rosy cheeks in your jacket as you book it to Abigail’s place.

You’ve returned to your normal pigment by the time you reach Pierre’s store. You head to the far door near the counter, giving Pierre a brief wave as he finishes up with a customer, but before you reach the door, Pierre calls for your attention.

“If you’re going to see Abigail, I’m going to politely ask you to refrain.” He hands the customer their receipt and waits for them to gain some distance before continuing. “She’s grounded for the next two weeks.”

Uhhh isn’t she a grown woman? You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you watch your last chance at a place to stay (that’s free of Sebastian) evaporate before your eyes. You’re desperate at this point so you try one last ditch effort.

“Oh gosh, I had no idea,” you respond, really laying on the charm. “It’s especially bad timing cause I really needed a place to stay this Thursday.” You go on to explain the construction, and the following series of unfortunate events, hoping to earn sympathy points, and persuade him to make an exception. “So that’s why I’m urgently searching. I promise I won’t be a nuisance and I could stay on the couch rather than Abby’s room.” Your desperation is becoming evident and you rapidly search your thoughts for more convincing ideas. “And I’ll promise not to talk to Abby while I’m here… and…”,you trail off trying to think of a better argument, but Pierre stops you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really wish I could help you but this just isn’t a good time.”

Fucking dick. If he did actually want to help you, he’d agree to let you stay.

“I understand,” you say with a tinge of bitterness. “Oh, I used that wonderful deluxe fertilizer you suggested. It worked wonders on my yams! I might stock up for the rest of my crops too…”

Pierre narrowed his eyes at you and your blatant attempt at bribery. He paused for a moment and you felt a tiny glimmer of hope that he was actually considering your offer.

“The answer is no, Y/n. I hope to see you back another day for that fertilizer.” That was definitely his way of asking you to leave. You give a polite nod in acknowledgment and leave the shop.

How? How is all this happening now?! Why does it feel like the universe is working against you?!

As these questions rage in your mind you turn the corner of the building, hoping to get some explanation. You swiftly approach Abby’s window and give it a few stern taps. You can hear shuffling from the other side and it takes a sec for Abby to come open the window.

��Hey what’s up?” Her tone is clearly irritated though you know that irritation isn’t directed at you. The fact that you came to her window leads her to conclude that you are already aware of her circumstance.

“Why’s your dad pissed? I mean I know he’s pissed a lot but this seems pretty extreme,” you ask, matching her same annoyance in solidarity.

Abby rolls her eyes and explains, “he found my weed stash. I have no idea how he even found it or why he looked through my stuff.” You did find this strange cause you knew where Abby hid her weed and you thought it was a damn good spot, too. She kept it taped to the backside of her nightstand drawer, so you’d have to pull the drawer completely out the the stand in order to get it. “Maybe he saw me pull it out or something?” She tried to rationalize before continuing, “But he obviously knew something since he knew exactly where to look.” It’s clear she’s suspicious that someone ratted her out to Pierre but only you, Sam and Sebastian knew where she kept it.

A lightbulb goes off in your head, and all the color drains from your face. Abby takes notice of your shift in demeanor.

“What? Do you know something?” She presses forward on the window pane urging you to share what you know. But you don’t have any proof, and she’s known Sebastian way longer than you, so why should she believe you? It would also make you look very suspicious, too, if you were to suggest him as the culprit.

“I’m just worried it’s… my fault because of… that time I left my lighter in your room! Like, what if he saw it and was like ‘why on earth is there a lighter in Abby’s room?!’ and then decided to search around?” You can feel your stomach in knots as you wait for Abby’s response.

At first she’s a little puzzled by your admission, but then she gives a soft, reassuring smile. “I seriously doubt that’s what tipped him off but it’s kinda cute that you feel that kind of guilt. Especially for something unintentional.”

You let out a sigh of relief and decide to explain your original intention for swinging by. You can’t help but think that this also gives you a stronger alibi of not being the one who snitched.

“Damn, that is hella unlucky,” she says. “But I’m sure Seb can help you out. He hardly leaves the house anyway so there’s no way he’s got plans or anything. Though, I can’t blame you for trying to find somewhere else instead.” Your ears perk up at this comment.

Has she seen the stuff he does? Has he done it to her? Are you finally not alone in this and someone else knows how fucking batshit crazy this all is?!

“Oh, yeah,” you say, trying to play it cool but wanting her to elaborate. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you know…. cause boys are so gross.” You feel your heart sink into the deepest pit of your stomach. You give an agreeing smile and nod, holding in the fact that you just want to scream. Abby continues. “I mean, can you imagine what Sam and Seb’s rooms would look like if you held up a black light. Ugh, it grosses me out just thinking about it.”

Again, you agree with her and accept your defeat. You trudge your way back to the main road and you head back to your farm with your head hung low. It’s a chilly evening and Robin is still working when you return, so you approach her and let her know that you’d like to take her up on her offer. She seems so pleased to hear you accept her invitation and begs you to join them for dinner that night, as well. Being the people-pleaser you are, you reluctantly agree and head inside. The dread of Thursday is already setting in, no matter how hard you try to push that feeling away.

You plop down on the couch, worn out from physical and emotional exhaustion. You get a text notification on your phone and as you go check it, expecting it to be Leah with a termite update, your breath catches in your throat.

Sebastian:

Glad you came to your senses and accepted the invite. Such a good girl

It feels as if your heart could pound right out your chest as you read and reread his text. You have so many questions and are completely terrified at this point.

Do I… should I… respond?

You shakily type your reply.

Y/n:

Why are you doing this? How did you do all this???

He responds mere seconds later, though it feels like an eternity of watching those three little dots appear, disappear and reappear over and over.

Sebastian:

So impatient. I’ve got to hold onto some of my secrets, you know? Be a good girl, and wait just a bit longer. I’ll be sure to reward my princess for her obedience

A second text soon follows.

Sebastian:

Also, I’m sure this goes without saying, but let’s keep this between us. No need for anyone to know our little secret, right? You’re such a good, obedient girl. However, if you do go and tell anyone else, that would make you a very bad girl, and I would be forced to punish you

You drop your phone beside you and lay there on the couch, staring at the ceiling. You’ve grown tired of trying to out maneuver Sebastian and his sick games, leaving you begrudgingly accept your fate. You lay on the couch for hours, unable to bring yourself to move, until you eventually fall into a restless sleep.

#sdv farmer #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x reader #sebastian x farmer #stardew sebastian #sdv #stardew valley #sdv smut #sdv fanfic #sebastian yandere #sebastian stan #stardew smut #stardew valley fanfic #stardew farmer #yandere

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promiscuouspomegranate · 5 months ago

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|| COCOON

fem! yan x fem! reader TWs: So fucking unsettling.

Lucille was a pretty girl—obnoxiously so. She was the kind of pretty that would cause one to strain their neck in search of their own reflection to see how ugly they were in comparison. They would always be uglier than her and often would blush for the shame of their own homely faces or plain appearance. This is how Lucille knew she was a pretty girl, not because people told her—no, they were far too insecure to do so—but by how miserable they looked whenever her presence graced the room. With whatever soul she had, she felt a deep, almost sadistic pleasure in it, but with how her concealed lips would form into a thin smile, nobody knew. Her father would often scold her for her debauched behavior and often wondered what he did wrong; perhaps he had been too lenient or delicate with his precious child—though he never did anything of any nature, he was simply there. Lucille hated the man but had no justification for her hatred, as he never laid a hand on her or yelled with a belligerent tone. She surmised that he had some hidden evil that he dared not to tell her; perhaps he was a drunk, a sloth, or a degenerate. Yet, she knew why she really hated the man, because she knew that behind his glassy baby-blue eyes, he saw her.

Lucille’s eyes were far prettier than her father’s and, if she ever met her whore of a mother, her eyes would be prettier than that skank’s. They were wide malachite-colored things that usually had pupils so dilated you could see your reflection in them. Her most recent ex-boyfriend frequently teased her and said he always thought she was high out of her mind. He would have to repeat himself more than once whenever he said anything. She never paid any attention. He left her at the start of spring break, and a day later, he left Duruston. Nobody remembered his name, they just knew him as Lucille’s boyfriend.

She wanted to leave Duruston too, but she did not have the money or the means. So, she spent all her time doing the usual things—wandering the strip mall, getting her nails done, letting the artificial glow of the tanning salon mask the shadows she couldn’t. At the bug-infested diner, she picked at greasy fries with her friends, spoke in half-laughs, and ended most nights at the cemetery. Most of the time, she did not have to even glance at her thrifted designer purse; everyone paid for her things. They just expected favors in return.

Except for Butterfly. Butterfly never asked for favors, except for that one time when she bleached her hair, and half of it fell off in the shower. Butterfly was a sweet girl, the sweetest girl Lucille had ever met—Lucille was so convinced of this that she thought if she were to bite into Butterfly’s pallid skin, all her teeth would rot out. Lucille had a habit of noticing every little thing Butterfly did; her green eyes would often sparkle with some form of stolen light and shine with a glow akin to grief. Butterfly never noticed this. She was always too busy fidgeting with the hem of the blue sweater Lucille bought for her.

“You’re cold again,” Lucille mumbled before turning down the C.D. Butterfly made for her—a collection of David Bowie’s greatest hits. “Hm?” Butterfly’s head perked up from the magazine she was reading, “Sorry, I didn’t—” “We should go to the tanning salon; I want to tan again. Am I pale? I think I look pale, and you know Blake doesn’t like ghostly girls.” “We could, but I hate it there. You could get skin cancer one day, Lucy,” Butterfly closed the magazine and tossed it over the bed, “I worry about—” “I’ll grab my purse, just wait in the car, okay Butterfly?” “God, would it kill you to call me…” Lucille exited her bedroom, gently closing the wooden door behind her. She traced her well-manicured fingers across the yellow walls, counting how many individual linoleum tiles were on the floor. She reached the kitchen and found a Franklin taped to the refrigerator beside a sticky note that read “For dinner — Dad.” She stuffed it into the pockets of her jeans, grabbed the keys from the counter, and left the house. The winter sun was sinking into the line of pine trees just beyond her house, seemingly disappearing and only leaving an embryo-colored glow in its wake. She started her father’s Ford Focus, honking the horn three times so Butterfly would rush out the front door. She had timed Butterfly’s movements in the back of her head; right now, she was probably taking a deep breath and reciting a prayer. In two minutes, she would come stumbling out the front door, holding her star-shaped messenger bag and rummaging around for the latest C.D. her mother let her buy. “You’ll like this one,” Butterfly smiled, her head tilting down and a light, coy blush crept over her face, “My grandmother recommended some oldies to me recently, I— I really love them.” “It’s so… you,” Lucille sighed, rolling her eyes as she tuned out the voice of Frankie Valli for the hundredth time. “Is that a compliment?” Butterfly’s blush turned shameful, and she paused the C.D., fidgeting with the radio, “Never mind, we can listen to the station.” The rest of the car ride was silent. Lucille was not expecting that outcome at all—no, something was terribly wrong with Butterfly. She broke a part of her nail as she held the wheel, choking the hot-pink faux fur cover, ripping the fuzz off with her index and thumb. Her dilated eyes stared at Butterfly, who was too occupied fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. The sweater Lucille bought for her. “Can we park close to the salon this time? I don’t want to walk through the drizzle,” Butterfly’s hand found its way on top of Lucille’s, cautiously placing her calloused fingertips on her slender fingers. “Anything you want,” Lucille mumbled, finally facing the road again, and loosening her grip from the wheel. “Oh, you chipped a nail. You’ll—” “I’ll get Blake to pay for my new set. He said he would after what I did for him last week,” Lucille pulled the car into the parking lot. Butterfly took her hand off Lucille’s and grabbed her messenger bag, leaving Lucille alone to take a deep breath. Lucille took many shallow breaths, and she felt like she was stealing all the air from the world and choking on it. She watched Butterfly walk into the tanning salon—that idiot was probably fumbling over her words. Lucille decided to help her, again.

“Uhm, no I just— She should—” “I want room number 13, and bring one of those folding chairs with you, for my Butterfly,” Lucille crossed her arms, sizing the old hag at the register. “Hah, that’s just a nick—” “Sure thing, ladies,” The wrinkled thing said, grabbing one of the folding chairs in the corner with her flabby arms. They entered the room, and Lucille locked the door behind them. She stripped herself entirely, except for the heart sticker she applied just below her navel. She stared at Butterfly, whose face was burrowed deeply into the library’s copy of “The Metamorphasis.” “Can you set the timer for me?” Lucille asked, slowly heading toward the tanning bed, and crawling inside. The lid hummed as it lowered, sealing her in a cocoon of sterile light. The bulbs flickered to life, casting an artificial sun over her skin, too bright and too close. The heat pressed down, heavy and suffocating. She closed her eyes, but the somber blue glow seeped through her eyelids, pulsing like the beat of some distant, unseen heart. “So, how was your week, Butterfly?” Lucille asked, picturing how Butterfly’s face would scrunch in response. “You know I hate that name, Lucy,” Butterfly closed her book, tossing it onto the ground, “Why can’t you just call me—” “Is it because Lorelei gave it to you? Her and I went to blockbuster recently, rented a copy of that movie you recommended. It was so…” “So me,” Butterfly filled the silence, her voice trembling like a leaf blowing in the wind. “You know,” Lucille decided to tease her friend, in hopes it would strengthen the girl, “Lorelei said—”

“Stop.”

“She told me that you—”

“Lucille, shut up.”

“God, you are so dramatic,” Lucille laughed, she could see the silent tears, and could taste the refreshing sweetness of them, “Lorelei just told me about the party you and her went to. You know, the one where you got wasted.”

“Can w-we please talk—”

“I don’t think you’re a faggot, if that helps.”

Lucille heard Butterfly choke on a sob and could picture her pretty little fingers covering her chapped lips, pitifully trying to hide her shame. She bet it was beautiful—like one of those paintings left to collect dust in a gallery. She heard the rustling of books, a bag, and then sneakers. When Lucille emerged from the tanning bed to change sides, the door was wide open, and Butterfly was nowhere in sight.

For the first time in her life, she could feel her pupils shrink, shrinking so small that she could barely see straight.

“Butterfly…?”

“Y//N?”

…

Twelve days, three hours, and a few minutes had passed since Butterfly last spoke to Lucille. Odd, very odd indeed, was all Lucille could make of the situation—Butterfly never did things like this; she always returned to her in the end. She had gotten with Blake, precious little Blake, who paid for everything she wanted, took her downtown, and wouldn’t even record Lucille when she did favors. He was a nice guy, really, one of the sweetest she ever got with. Lucille’s mind flickered through a kaleidoscope of futures—none of them hers, all of them too bleak, and drenched in colors too bright, too wrong. The nausea came suddenly, rising like bile. She stumbled out of bed, each step a stagger across the cold linoleum, the floor stretching longer than it should—maybe she miscounted the tiles?

“To be Mrs. Fern,” Lucille thought, “Is to be dead.”

Her feet sunk into the mud as she headed into the pine forest, her skin drenched in a cold sweat. The pasty moon cut into the woods, illuminating the shadows on her face and hiding her eyes in a veil of darkness. There was an unmeasured rhythm in her footsteps: one… two… three… four… five… six—a waltz of sorts.

“Christ,” she muttered under her raspy breath, “Know she’s out here.”

Then, in the heart of the woods, she saw her. Really saw her. Butterfly stood bathed in moonlight, every shadow bending to her, every leaf trembling in worship. Her face—soft, radiant—blurred at the edges, as if she was slipping between worlds. Lucille’s breath caught in her throat, a sharp, reverent ache. This wasn’t a person standing before her; this was creation itself. God, she thought, whatever was left of her mind ablaze. This is God. Tears stung Lucille’s eyes as she dropped to her knees, arms outstretched, trembling under the weight of revelation. How could she not have seen it before? Every step, every word, every glance—it all led here. To her.

Lucille crawled to her, her ears clinging to the end of Butterfly’s prayer. Lucille’s abhorrent body rose above Butterfly, and she grabbed her face, forcing her to look forward. She slipped her slender hands over Butterfly’s mouth, sticking her fingers over her tongue, choking her words.

“Oh, Y//N, why did you—”

“H-ahng? Hoo arh yoo?”

“You’re so—” Lucille’s hand traveled down to Butterfly’s neck, and she imagined what it would be like to kill a god.

“I can’t breathe.”

“I love you, Butterfly.”

“L-Lucille, is that you…?”

Lucille’s hands slid further, deeper, until the boundary between flesh and god blurred. The warmth of Butterfly’s body gave way to something colder, something unnameable. A wet, visceral sound filled the air—part whisper, part echo, like the woods themselves were holding their breath. Lucille couldn’t tell where her hands ended and where Butterfly began.

The ink on the missing posters faded from the constant storms. Nobody had been able to find poor Lucille.

#❤︎.pomegranate #yandere writing #yandere #yandere character #yandere oc #dark romance #yandere oneshot #lesbian yandere #yanblr #obsessive love #obslove #yandere lesbian

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very-tired-principal · 1 month ago

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"My office. NOW."

//🧋// Mod here, this was originally ask-miss-thavel, but I only got one ask. So I decided to start over and make a Miss Grace blog! Enjoy.

"Welcome to Paper School. I am your principal, Miss Grace. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"We have a few rules around here, but I'll tell you the most important one."

"NEVER. EVER. OPEN ΔLICE'S DOOR."

☕️______☕️

🍵Headcanons!🍵

- She has a coffee machine in her office so she can stay awake during work.

- She has a habit of falling asleep at her desk.

- She has a slight crush on Miss Emily. (anyone else ship Emily x Grace?)

- Miss Grace is Edward and Riley's mom. (A little on the angst side, take a guess what happened to their dad[hint: he's not dead].)

- She's absolutely fed up with the destruction Δlice causes. (No seriously that's a LOT of property damage.)

- She doesn't like talking about where the scars on her head came from.

- More of a cat personality honestly.

- Psst...she's actually very ticklish. GO FOR HER BACK AND NECK!

- You know that thing principals do when they have to take notes about teachers classes? Yeah.....she does that. She hates it though.

🍵______🍵

Now let's talk about rules.

1. NO NSFW. I'm all for slightly suggestive jokes but don't directly make me and other users uncomfortable.

2. RESPECT MY HEADCANONS. No seriously, do NOT judge my headcanons.

3. NO HOMOPHOBIA/TRANSPHOBIA. This explains itself, plus Mod is Aro-Ace so respect that as well.

4. DON'T ATTACK/KILL MISS GRACE.

5. Have fun!

//🧋// Before you even ask, yes, Magic Anon asks and tickle asks are allowed, just don't be weird about them.

🍵______🍵

Miss Grace will talk like this.

//🧋//Mod will talk like this.

🍵______🍵

PINGS:

Staff:

@math-teacher-who-loves-oreos @pansexual-music-teacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @wendigo-language-teacher @lesbian-history-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher @best-social-studies-teacher @mrbasils-cookies

Students:

@askclairefpe @oliversoapeater-official @engels-ask-blog @edward-the-silly @zip-the-chaos-child @silly-lesbian-bubble @sk3ll-em0-k1tty @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy @abbie-the-apple

ALICE:

@alice-monstrous-princess

KAAATIEVERSE(ones ive seen at least):

@askskary @agethath3silly @viviansmagicshop @official-crazie @girl-from-the-snowy-forest

SCIENCE AU(Woah-):

@science-au-oliver006

//🧋// Im sorry if anyone was forgotten!

#fpe #ask me anything #fpe miss thavel #fundemental paper education #fpe miss grace #miss thavel #miss grace #edward fpe #riley fpe #ask blog

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mimisempai · 2 months ago

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Bouquet of love

Summary

Aziraphale gets hay fever from flowers offered by Crowley. Not wanting to disappoint him, he tries to hide his condition from him at all costs.

Notes

Catching up a February challenge.

Day 1 : Hay Fever

Day 2 : Bouquet

On Ao3

Rating G - 955 words

"Achoo!"

Aziraphale pulled out his handkerchief, quickly wiped his nose, and resumed arranging his books.

"Did you call me, Angel?"

The angel turned to Crowley in what he hoped was a natural way and replied with a look of astonishment, "Me? No. Not at all. Not at all."

"Ah, I thought I heard you calling me. Anyway, I was just about to make myself a cup of coffee, would you like some tea?"

Aziraphale nodded vigorously.

"With pleasure."

"Good, I'll be in the kitchen."

The angel waited until the demon was gone before he let out a sigh of relief.

"Phew. He didn't notice anything."

Aziraphale took out his handkerchief again and stifled another sneeze.

He didn't want Crowley to notice because he knew the source of his hay fever.

Since moving into the cottage, the demon had let his love of plants soar and thrived on the activity. While clearing the back of the orchard, he'd discovered several bushes infested with thorns and weeds, and had made it a point to carefully tend to each one.

This morning, he had been delighted to see the first one bloom, and had cut off a few branches to make a bouquet, which he had proudly offered to Aziraphale.

The bouquet that now sat in the middle of the coffee table in the living room.

The bouquet that was the cause of Aziraphale's hay fever.

Crowley had looked so happy to offer it that the angel didn't have the heart to tell him and did everything in his power to hide his state from him.

Aziraphale had just stifled another sneeze when Crowley arrived carrying a tray with their cups and some cakes.

"What do you say we take a little break?"

Aziraphale watched as the demon sat down on the sofa, facing the large bouquet of branches with pretty yellow flowers.

Damn.

"Coming, my dear."

He quickly wiped his nose before making his way to the sofa and sitting down next to Crowley.

The demon handed him his cup, and Aziraphale quickly took a first sip, enjoying the warmth of the tea as it went down his slightly sore throat.

He was about to reach for a biscuit when he felt another sneeze coming on.

He had to get Crowley's attention.

He pointed to the window and exclaimed, "Oh, look, it looks like a duck is flying over there."

Crowley immediately turned his head, and Aziraphale took the opportunity to take out his handkerchief, hoping to cover his sneeze.

"Angel, you must be hallucinating because there isn't a single bird in the sky."

The demon had turned his head again and Aziraphale froze, handkerchief in hand.

Suddenly there was no longer any place to hide, and all the angel could do was turn his head and put his handkerchief to his nose.

“Achoo!”

Aziraphale wiped his nose and turned back to the demon, whose narrowed eyes stared at his face.

"Angel..."

"It's nothing. Just a little cold."

Crowley grabbed the angel's chin and retorted, "A little cold? With your eyes and nose all red?"

Aziraphale felt another sneeze coming on, so he broke free of the demon's grip and had just enough time to bring the handkerchief to his nose for three consecutive sneezes.

He turned to Crowley, "I..."

He cleared his throat, hoarse with irritation.

"I really must have caught a little cold, I..."

Crowley shook his head.

"Angel, after all this time on Earth, you think I can't tell the difference between a cold and hay fever?"

Aziraphale swallowed and couldn't help but glance at the bouquet on the table. Then, watching Crowley, he saw him gasp at the moment he understood.

"Don't tell me that..."

Aziraphale lowered his head.

"Sorry."

"You idiot."

Feeling the sofa next to him move, Aziraphale looked up to see that Crowley had risen and was reaching for the bouquet.

"Crowley..."

The demon didn't answer. He took the bouquet outside and set it down a short distance from the entrance, then returned to sit next to the angel.

There he handed her his cup and said gently, "Drink, Angel, this will ease your throat a little."

Aziraphale nodded shyly and drank some tea before putting the cup down.

"I'm sorry, Crowley. You were so excited about this bouquet, I didn't want to disappoint you."

Crowley grabbed the angel's hands and, pulling him close, said softly, "And you think I'm happy to see you in such a state because of those flowers?"

Aziraphale cuddled up to the demon, who leaned over to press a soft kiss on his lips.

"I'm surprised you want to kiss me at all," the angel mused.

"Angel... it takes a lot more than hay fever to keep me from kissing you."

He planted another kiss on the angel's nose and said in an amused tone, "Besides, you look cute with your reddened nose."

"You..."

The angel didn't have the strength to continue.

No longer needing to hide his condition, and now feeling exhausted, he snuggled even closer to the demon and let out a last little sneeze.

Crowley gently stroked his back while planting another kiss on his forehead.

"Why don't you try and get some rest, Angel? I'm sure you'll feel better when you wake up."

Aziraphale nodded his head against the demon's chest and asked in a hoarse voice, "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

The angel felt another kiss on his hair and then Crowley's lips moving as he whispered, "See, this, this makes me much happier than giving you flowers from our garden."

Aziraphale hummed contentedly before drifting off to sleep, a smile on his lips at the thought of making his demon even happier when he would wake up.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #South Downs Cottage #Domestic fluff

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lovelypastelsweets · 3 months ago

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♡Onychinus' Kitten♡[Part #2:]

Sylus Qin X female!Cat-Hybrid!Reader

{Notes:}

This is my first fan-fiction, if you have any tip/suggestions please let me know!In this story, the 'reader' is NOT the MC, and is female(I don't have an issue with males reading, but I don't know anything about guys, and I want to be authentic. If you'd like a male-reader fan-fic please collaborate with me to deepen my understanding of the male-mind)

{Trigger-warnings:}

This story will contain minor death(of random side characters), mention human-trafficking(not in-detail), the experimentation of humans-subjects, and it may a mention past-trauma that includes sexual-abuse, I haven't decided. But I have PTSD related to sexual-abuse, and I don't want to trigger myself, so if I do include that detail, it will be non-descriptive.

[One month ago;]

Sylus had done business with a man who worked in the black-market. The man bought a verity of protocore-infused weapons, as well as EVOL-canceling restraints and gear.

After two weeks, Sylus came to collect his profit, however the man, Mr.Kurosan, only had half of what was due. And Sylus simply couldn't just let that slide.

Inside a old, dark building; A small room with crumbling and cracked dull-grey walls and a wooden floor, there sits a small table with two chairs on each side- The same room the deal was made in- Sylus stands tall, with an sense of authority and malice, yet looking bored. His appearance was similar to that of a person with an infestation looking at a single mouse caught in a trap.

Sylus: "One such as yourself ought to know what happens when fools bite off more than they can chew. And you, Mr.Kurosan, are not better than a tiny finch picking a fight with a crow."

Sylus' voice lacked hesitation and was terrifyingly calm for someone who was about to take a life.Red and black mist circle the trembling man, lifting him into the air.

Mr.Kurosan: "M-Mr.Sylus-! Please, I-I'll get you the mo-ney! I just need more time!"

The mist continued it's deadly coil.

Mr.Kurosan: "No-no! Wait! I'm not the only party involved here, you see! There's- I-I- I was partnering with a group! A organization! We-we split your shipment! And-and they didn't pay their due! T-they-they didn't-!"

Mr.Kurosan yelled frantically, nearing incoherentnce- a pitiful attempt to be speared.

Sylus: "Oh? Do tell me more."

The mist stopped, causing the Mr.Kurosan to hit the floor with a "[Thud!]".Mr.Kurosan begin to hurriedly speak while scrabbling to his knees. He knew not to test Sylus's patience.

Mr.Kurosan: "There is a an organization of scientists that produce and sell hybrids! They wanted the restraints, and-and some weaponry. So.. I split the shipment, and they were expected to pay for the supplies and my work! They didn't pay the amount owed. That's.. That's why I don't have the money! And! The hybrids they create are really powerful! Some have very strong EVOLS. Su-surely that's something you'd be interested in?...Ah.. So.. See? Mr.Sylus? I-I didn't- I was loyal to you!"

Mr.Kurosan begin to wear a delirious-looking, yet worried smile as he began to see a chance to be speared.

Sylus: "I see. Well then, tell me the name and address of the 'organization'.. In fact, here, write it down. I'll give this organization a visit myself, after all it's 'me' who they owe money to. There's no need for a middle-man."

Mist appeared before Mr.Kurosan with a tablet and a stylist.Mr.Kurosan begin to frantically scribble on the screen. Then, he held it outwards towards Sylus.

Mr.Kurosan: "He-here, Mr.Sylus. This is all the information I have. Ah, so our partnership.. I-I haven't gone against you-I haven't gone against our partnership! So-"

As Mr.Kurosan speaks, the mist collects the tablet, bringing it to Sylus, to which he takes it into hand as he begins to chuckle darkly.

Sylus: " "Partnership"? Do you really think you possess the power to be called my partner? You're more of a fool than I thought.".

Mr.Kurosan's eyes widened in horror and realization, his heartbeat became even more erratic, even painful.The red and black mist returned instantly.

Mr.Kurosan: "N-n-no! Please!- Mr.S-!"

Mr.Kurosan's words cut off into a blood-curdling scream of agony, as Sylus' hand clinched, and his body dissipated into pieces even smaller than the cells that made him.

Sylus looked at the tablet that read; "[HYBE-CO. 444, Shinde-Lane, N109-ZONE.]".

[Two weeks later; Present day:]

Inside a laboratory that disguised itself within an abandoned hotel. The air was filled with screams, slanderish-yelling, pleads for mercy, curses, and the sound of rushed foot-steps of the scientists who made them- Scientists who did want to befall the same fate as their co-workers; Lying bloodied on the floor or disintegrated into ash-.

As Sylus, Luke and Kiren made their way through the laboratory, Sylus noticed a man and a woman conversing in the back of the room. The woman held a gun, checking to see if it was loaded. After nodded to each other the woman began to rush forward- not towards Sylus, but down a hallway and deeper into the laboratory.

Sylus: "You two finish up here. I'll be back"

Sylus said to the twins. He vanished in telaportation before they could respond.

Gun in hand, running fast, the woman moved steadily with intent- knowing that there was only one way to keep their "Products" out of the hands of the Onychinus.

At last she reached her destination; The shared-bedchamber of the hybrids.

♡[To Be Continued]♡

#luke and kiren #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus qin #Lads

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

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Infestation, Oppression, Possession - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You warn Eddie about playing with a Ouija board, too bad he doesn’t listen.

Note: As a horror movie junkie, my personal favorites are the possession ones (esp The Conjuring, where the title of this comes from) so here’s a little Halloween horror starring Eddie

Warnings: playing with ouija board, possession, general spookiness because tis the season

Words: 2.7k

“Please promise me that you won’t play with it,” you beg your boyfriend. “They’re dangerous.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Babe, it’s just a piece of wood with some paint on it. How could it be dangerous?”

You eye the Ouija board sitting on his bed, the planchette inconspicuously resting on top of it. There are no shortage of horror stories and cautionary tales warning people away from playing with such a dangerous game. You’ve spent the better part of the last hour relating these worries to Eddie, who seems to think nothing of them at all–or about the fact that he bought it to begin with. It doesn’t seem to matter how much the whole thing bothers you.

“You never know who or what you’re communicating with,” you tell Eddie. “You could be opening a portal for something evil.” “So, you think a demon is going to decide to come here to little ol’ Hawkins? And will want to possess me? I’m flattered.” Eddie raises his eyebrows and lets out a small chuckle. A groan slips from your lips as you rub your hands over your face in aggravation.

“Just…please,” you beg as you stand up from where you’re perched on Eddie’s amp. “For me? Just throw it out.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says as he takes a few steps over to you. He places his hands on your shoulders and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Relax, okay? I’ll be careful.”

“Can’t you just–”

“Baby,” Eddie interrupts you. “Go to work, okay? I promise I’ll put it away.”

“You should throw it away,” you say sternly. “Or burn it. You’d have fun doing that, I know.”

Eddie chuckles and presses another kiss to your head. He slips his arms around you and tugs you against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just go to work and try and forget all about it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, pulling out of his arms. “Serving greasy burgers to angry truckers is really going to take a load off my mind.”

Calloused fingers gently grip your chin and tilt your head up. Soft but chapped lips press against your own and you close your eyes as you lean into the kiss.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers against your mouth.

“I love you, too.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Eddie assures you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bright and early with two coffees.”

“Make sure you don’t drink half of mine before you get to my house this time,” you say as you swipe one of your boyfriend’s hoodies from where it’s sprawled across his desk.

“No promises,” Eddie tells you as you slip the sweatshirt on over your head.

You press one last kiss to his lips, avoiding looking at the devil board on his bed, before heading out to work.

Eddie huffs a laugh to himself once you’ve left. He’s surprised that you’re so worried about the Ouija board. Usually, you’re so cool and collected, always logical and tactful in your way of thinking. It’s not like you to believe in some silly superstition. Maybe it’s just getting too close to Halloween, Eddie thinks as he picks up the board and planchette. Corroded Coffin should be by in about twenty minutes for a songwriting session, but first, Eddie thinks, perhaps the guys will have some fun and try to scare one another.

The next night, Eddie’s lounging on his bed, guitar perched on his lap as he strums a few new chords that the band came up with last night. His amp is on since Wayne isn’t home, turned down just enough so the neighbors won’t complain. Fingers glide over the strings as Eddie plays around with the sounds of a possible new song. A beautiful melody flows to meet Eddie’s ears, but the moment he lets his eyes slip closed to lose himself in the music, the amp cuts out.

The sudden silence has Eddie sitting up and frowning at the amp in confusion. Gently setting his sweetheart down on the bed, he leans over to fiddle with the controls on the amp. It’s still turned on, all the dials are set just as they should be, so why did it go quiet? Eddie pushes himself off the bed to make sure the plug hasn’t come loose. A deeper frown etches on Eddie’s forehead as he sees the plug snugly in place in the outlet.

“Stupid old trailer,” Eddie grumbles as he gets down on his knees. “God damn electric problems.”

The outlet above the one the amp is plugged into has Eddie’s lamp connected to it–the same lamp that’s currently on and shining brightly next to his bed. Yanking both cords from the wall, Eddie tries putting the lamp’s plug into the bottom outlet, just to make sure that’s what isn’t working. The moment the prongs snap into the wall though, the light illuminates his dark room again.

“What the fuck,” Eddie mutters under his breath. He switches the lamp back to the top outlet and puts the amp back into the bottom one. “This amp is new, what the hell? Stupid piece of–”

Earsplitting feedback abruptly rings out through the amp, causing Eddie to fall back on his ass and cover his ears. Heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, Eddie stares at the amp with wide eyes. The racket only lasts five seconds, but it’s enough to freak Eddie out.

“O-Okay…” Eddie says as he pushes himself back to his feet. The room is quiet once again. The lamp is on, his guitar is still nestled against his pillow, and the amp sits there inconspicuously on the stained carpet.

“Jesus, this place is a shithole,” Eddie says, trying to convince himself it’s just some faulty wiring in his old home. He sits back down on his bed and the moment he grips the neck of his sweetheart, the bleating sound of the phone ringing in the hallway has him jumping out of his skin. Once his mind registers what the new noise is, Eddie laughs at himself as he sets his guitar back down and heads toward the phone. “You’re a wuss, Munson. Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, keep your pants on. Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie,” your cheerful voice greets through the phone.

“Hi, babe. Hmm, I take back what I just said then.”

“What?” you ask.

“I told whoever was on the phone to keep their pants on as I walked down the hall. I take that back now.” You can practically hear the smirk on your boyfriend’s face.

“Who said I’m even wearing any?” you tease.

“I’m listening.”

The mystery of the faulty sound equipment quickly fades from Eddie’s head.

Eddie huffs as he uses a flashlight to look through the pantry. The damn lights in the trailer are flickering like crazy and it’s driving Eddie up the wall. At first, he’d thought it was just the lights in his room, but it seemed to follow him down the hall and into the living room as well.

Searching for something to eat, the aggravation only hits a new high when the flashlight in Eddie’s hands also starts flickering.

“Okay, what the actual fuck?” Eddie demands. He bangs the flashlight against his palm and the beam becomes steady once more. “Thank you.”

As if the lights heard his pleasure, they all turn off at once–even the flashlight.

“Are you shitting me?” Eddie shouts. The darkness comes on so quickly that Eddie’s eyes take their sweet time adjusting. He bangs his head on a cabinet as he shuffles out of the kitchen. Like someone flipped a switch, the lights come on all at once–even ones that weren’t turned on before. The sudden brightness burns Eddie’s eyes, and he drops the flashlight to cover them. Slowly, the lights fade back to their usual strength and Eddie is able to open his eyes without pain. He blinks them a few times, still getting them to adjust to the brightness when the front door opens and Wayne steps inside.

The older man shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on a hook near the door. He eyes Eddie where he stands, eyes watering from how sensitive they are right now.

“What’s with you, boy?” Wayne asks.

“Did you pay the electric bill?” Eddie asks in return, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“‘Course I did. Why?”

“Because these damn lights are going crazy,” Eddie says, flinging one hand in the direction of the nearest lamp. “Just wait, they’ve been flickering for an hour now.”

Wayne stands near the door with his hands on his hips, looking around the room at the different lights that are on. Eddie squares his jaw when not even one little flicker occurs.

“Smoke a little too much tonight?” Wayne asks with a chuckle as he walks past his nephew and into the kitchen.

“I didn’t even…ugh, never mind.”

“You want a grilled cheese?” Wayne asks, opening the fridge.

“Sure. Thanks.” Eddie plops down on the couch and stares at the ceiling. The lights had been going crazy–right?

“Did you sleep at all last night?” you ask Eddie at lunch.

Dull brown eyes slide over to you, dark bag eyes beneath them puffy and prevalent, and seem as if they look right through you.

“A little,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Gareth says.

The Dungeon Master raises his hand to flip off his friend while he lowers his head down to the lunch table. He felt like shit too, but he wouldn’t give his friends the satisfaction of knowing that.

Over the next few days, Eddie only looks worse and worse. His face begins to look drawn, his skin a sickly shade of greenish gray. His clothes are more unkempt and wrinkled than normal, appearing as if he’d slept in them the night before. Every morning on the way to school you’d try to get out the knots that had accumulated in your boyfriend’s hair during the night. There hadn’t been a time when his hair had been this much of a pain before. Eventually, you just slip your red scrunchie from your wrist and tie his hair into a ponytail at the base of his neck.

“Are we getting pizza tonight?” you ask as Eddie parks his van in the Hawkins High parking lot.

“Babe, I’m not even going to Hellfire tonight,” he tells you, all emotion zapped from his voice.

“You’re not going to Hellfire?” you ask in shock.

“No,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls the keys from the ignition.

“Why don’t you just go home, baby?” you suggest as you reach over and move a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

“Maybe.” Eddie gives a half-hearted shrug and shoves the van door open and slides out. Frown still pinched on your face, you follow him out and stick by his side as long as you can until you have to go to your separate first periods.

Your phone rings as you’re buttoning your jeans the next morning, and you hop over to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” There’s no energy in Eddie’s voice, the sound raspy and gravelly. “I can’t take you to school today. Not getting out of bed.”

“Aww, baby,” you coo. “I’m going to come over and take care of you. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“No,” Eddie responds. “You’ve got a test today, go to school.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m coming over. Bye.” You hang up before he can protest again; because you know he will. Eddie’s hoodie from the other week is still hanging over the chair in your room so you toss it on before heading out the door to your car.

Eddie looks as shitty as he sounded when you get to his place. He’s sprawled out in bed, the covers tucked up under his chin and his eyes half-lidded as he tries to focus on you. You sigh as you sit down on the edge of his bed. When you reach up and move some hair off of his forehead you feel that his skin is surprisingly cool against your fingertips. You’d expected heat there–most likely a fever raging inside of his body.

“Are you cold?” you ask. Eddie nods, seeming like he hardly has the energy for even that. “I’ll get you another blanket.”

The room feels chilly to you as well, but not enough to warrant two heavy blankets being piled atop of you. Something is definitely going on inside of his body. As you open Eddie’s closet to grab another blanket, your eyes land on the Ouija board sitting on top of a pile of dirty clothes. The room suddenly feels hot as your temper flares. Anger builds up in your chest and your nostrils flare as you snatch up a blanket. Spinning around to face Eddie again, you stomp over to him.

“What the hell, Eddie? Why is the Ouija board still here?” you demand.

Eddie groans and turns his head to bury it in his pillow.

“Talk quieter, please,” he begs.

“Answer. Me.” Despite your anger, you’re not heartless. You lower your volume as you shake out the blanket and lay it across your boyfriend’s body. “Did you play with it?”

The guilty look that crosses his face gives you his answer before he opens his mouth to croak out, “Yes.”

“Eddie,” you whine, running your hands over your hair. “What if that’s what’s wrong?” You gesture to him lying down on his bed, lethargic and exhausted.

“Stop,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed. “M’just getting sick. Or worn down.”

“But you don’t know–”

“Babe, calm down,” Eddie begs, trying to inject as much fervor into his voice as he can. “It’s not from some dumb game. That’s ridiculous.”

The only reason you bite your tongue is because he looks so miserable bundled up in the middle of his bed. Deciding to let it go for now, you sit down next to his head and card your fingers through his curls.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask him softly.

“Just you,” Eddie answers, mustering up a small smile to give you.

As you lean down to press another kiss to his forehead, you swear he feels even colder than he did a few minutes ago.

Eddie still isn’t back to himself the next week. In fact, he says he feels worse. You weren’t able to take the whole time off from school or work, but any moment that wasn’t spent somewhere you were obligated to be, you were at his side. He refused to go to the doctor and even Wayne couldn’t get him to go. It seems the shittier Eddie feels the more stubborn he is.

On Thursday, you don’t have work, so you head to Eddie’s place straight from school. He hasn’t been able to answer the door since he’s been staying in bed most of the time, so you just let yourself inside as usual.

“I’m here, Eddie,” you call out, not too loud though, in case he’s asleep. Your sneakers join the small pile of shoes near the front door, and you pad down the hallway to your boyfriend’s room. Confusion furrows your brow when you don’t see him in his bed. A glance behind you confirms that he’s not in the bathroom, so where else could he be? You take a few steps into his room and spot Eddie standing near the closet, his back to you. His back is straight as a rod and his stained Marlboro shirt and blue plaid pajama pants hang loose on his thin frame, even thinner from lack of food lately.

Cautiously, you take a few steps in his direction. The hair on the back of your neck is raised but you’re not sure why. It’s just your boyfriend.

“Eddie?” you ask timidly. “Are you okay? What are you doing out of bed? Eddie?”

A few heavy silent moments hang in the air. Then with a sudden sickening cracking sound, Eddie’s head snaps towards you. With a gasp, you take a step back. His eyes are entirely black. No trace of the dark brown that you love so much or the white that should be there. Pure black, darker than night. A sinister, toothy smile slides onto the mouth you’ve kissed so many times before. Your body trembles from the inside out as you stare in horror at whatever you’re witnessing in front of you. Eddie’s mouth opens, but the growling voice that comes out does not belong to him.

“Eddie isn’t here anymore.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine

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sodamnradd · 2 years ago

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Hermione Granger was going to die on his operating table.

Fuck.

Draco paced the room and tried to ignore the ghostly girl lying unconscious a few feet away.

Potter was the only person keeping Draco here and, if Granger died under his care, it was all over. The Order would blame him for her death.

“What am I meant to do with you now?” he mumbled, glaring at his patient.

He touched Granger’s pulse and felt it fading. Her skin was cold and clammy. Even her hair seemed deflated, giving up the good fight.

There was no other way.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, feeling a flash of remorse for the fate he was bestowing on her. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall in love with me.”

The Order promoted Draco to main headquarters. He had his own room and went to bed with a full stomach every night. Sometimes, there was even beer.

But Draco would have slept in moth infested sheets again and eaten stale cereal for dinner every night if it meant staying away from her.

After her miraculous recovery, Granger visited him in the medical wing. Often.

The first time to thank him for saving her life. The second to borrow a book she spotted on his desk, swapping it for one of her own. The third to return his book and tell him about all the ways it had pissed her off. Before he knew it, she’d cajoled Draco into a war-time book club, reading all the books Granger bartered off other Order members.

She started confiding in him about odd things that were happening to her.

“It’s not my problem,” he cut her off, popping open his collar as the room grew three notches too hot.

“But you’re my healer.”

“I’m not your healer. I’m just a healer. A reluctant one. Your idiot friends won’t let me do much else.”

“Help me find out what’s wrong with me, and I’ll have them reassign you.”

“No.”

She was insufferably stubborn.

“See how I did that?” she asked one afternoon, squashing a fly with her palm and resuscitating it seconds later. “That’s odd.”

“That’s magic.” He feigned disinterest, swatting the irritating fly. “Couldn’t you have let it die?” Sometimes Draco wished he had.

“It’s like holding sand in my hands. I have a handful of seconds to decide whether to preserve its life or let it trickle out—Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m counting inventory.”

“Stuff your blasted inventory. This is serious!”

He made her concerns seem trivial, shooing her off and demanding she mind his office hours.

Yet she always came back, always wanted to hear his expert opinion on why Dark Magic was so easy now, why she was quicker than Harry at casting off Dementors, why she didn’t need her wand to perform magic anymore.

One evening she visited him, devastated. “Tell me why I can’t stand letting anyone touch me.”

Red mist filled Draco’s vision, noting her rumpled figure. The state of Granger’s hair was an old joke by now, but he could tell someone’s fingers had been raking through it. Her shirt was misbuttoned. She looked messy and fierce and unbearably debauched.

“It certainly looks like someone tried,” he mumbled, trying to choke down the emotion that rocked through his chest.

“Tell me, Malfoy.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Because you’re all I think about!” she exploded. Her face went crimson.

She cleared her throat. “I know my own body. You did something to me that night, didn’t you? When I was injured.”

She stormed forwards, poking him in the chest. “What did you do?”

He snatched her fingers in his fist. It was like he was pure whisky, and she an Incendio spell, set astray. “Fuck.” He dropped her hand at once.

Granger leapt away too, gasping. “Did that just…?”

“You almost died,” he said, physically restraining himself from reaching for her again. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Malfoy?” Her voice was little more than a croak, her eyes too wide and innocent. Looking at him like-like—

He had to look away. “I split my magical core and gave you half.”

“Like a Horcrux?”

“It wasn’t my soul. But magic is binding in its own way.”

“What do you mean binding?”

“As in, you can tap into it now. It’s yours.”

“So I have my own magic and half of yours?”

He shrugged.

Granger’s mouth fell agape. “How do I return it to you?”

“It’s irrevocable.”

Realisation dawned on her face. “So, all of this,” she wagged a finger between them, “is because of your spell?”

“There’s no ‘this’.” He repeated the gesture. “It’s you and it’s me. Separate.”

She shook her head. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not—”

“You looked like you wanted to commit murder when I walked in just then.”

He shifted his gaze, jaw clenching. “My magic recognizes itself in you. It’s… possessive.”

“And mine recognizes you,” she concluded. “It doesn’t like me being with anyone else. You knew this would happen?”

“Should I have let you die instead?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and Draco tried not to wince. “Is this it, then? We’re bound to each other for the rest of our lives?”

He couldn’t stand looking at her anymore. Remorsefully, he replied, “This is it.”

(883 words, prompt: soulmates from @dhrmonth)

#sodamnrad #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dhr #dramione drabble #drabble #sodamnraddrabbles

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snwusberry · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: wooyoung x black!reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): communication issues (please don't hate me), drinking, mention of a messy past relationship, food/eating.

wc: 5.7k

note: this shit took me literal months to finish writing, like no kidding. the wooyoung brainrot was so real though so here it is.

reader's pov

02/10/2023

"easy now, wouldn't wanna burn holes into the board with how hard you're staring." i hear a comment at my obvious indecisiveness and i look up at the insanely handsome cashier in front of me.

"huh?" i ask and he smiles. he has an absolutely gorgeous smile, might i add.

"you've been standing here, staring at the board for quite a bit." i tell him.

"oh, my apologies."

"oh no need to apologize, i was just pulling your leg. let me know once you've decided."

i hum for a bit and i take a moment to take in his features quickly. he's got sharp but gentle facial features, if that makes any sense. he has a mole on his cheek and on his bottom lip which just adds on to his attractiveness.

"actually, what would you suggest i get?" i requests and he smiles.

"well the best sellers from our seasonal menu are the pumpkin pie latte, the ginger-cinnamon rooibos tea, and the cinnamon chai latte."

"i'll get..." i trail off and mentally curse myself for my indecisiveness. from now on i'm googling menus.

"you could always choose one and come back and try the others." wooyoung tells me which breaks me away from my train of thought.

"only if i enjoy this one though."

"of course."

"well then for today, i'll have one regular pumpkin pie latte."

"sit in or to go?" he asks, tapping away on the screen in front of him.

okay weigh out your options girl. if i sit in, i get to look all cute and mysterious in front of the extremely handsome cashier but if i go, i can be even more cute and mysterious, completely out of sight. that's a good idea. if i stay, i'll probably embarrass myself anyway.

"hello?"

"to go. sorry" i tell him and he smiles.

"alright." he says more to himself and he hands me a slip woth my order number. "here you go. they're busy with your order at the back, it'll be done shortly."

"thank you."

i go sit nearby the front counter so i can hear my order number when another customer walks in. a girl, probably around my age and i watch his interaction with her. very similar to how he was with me and i immediately snap out of this daydream world i let myself wander into. i need to focus on other things because i do not need a man to throw me off my loop. much less one i don't know.

he calls my order number though and i stand up to go get it.

"enjoy your drink. hope to see you come back." he tells he with a wink. stand up.

"thank you and that is to be decided." i reply which causes a brief chuckle from him.

17/10/2023

is it too late to turn around? i'm quite literally at the door of the café where that extremely attractive man works.

'come on girl, you saw him flirting with another girl, don't let yourself think you're special.'

yeah, i'd rather bellyflop into crocodile infested waters before allowing myself to even let a man have me by the throat like this, there's more to life. even if he's hot and has a nice smile and enchanting eyes...

just as i feel myself turn around i make direct eye contact with him through the glass of the door. now i could either leave and never come by here again, or go in.

'yeah i'll leave.'

i try to turn around when i bump into someone else who's trying to get in which leaves me with no choice but to go in. i mean, logically speaking, i very well could've gotten out of the way and fucked off back home but i didn't really think of that until i felt myself walking towards the counter, letting the man go before me.

as he orders, i stand behind him, fighting the urge to chew my nails right off. i can still leave, honestly...

"hello, what would you like to order?" his smooth voice cuts through the thoughts in my head.

"huh?"

dumbass

"would you like to order anything?" he asks again.

theres a very good chance he doesn't even remember me so, you know what? i should be fine.

"may i please have the ginger-cinnamon rooibos tea please?"

"sit in or to go?"

"sit in." i answer without even thinking about it which is yet another dumbass decision.

"alright, they're working on your order. you can grab a number and it'll be right with you." he instructs and i nod as i'm about to get an order number. "i take that you enjoyed your drink last time."

"hmm?"

"if i recall correctly, you said you'd be back provided that you enjoy your drink, the pumpkin pie latte. how was it?"

okay pause and let me regroup because my ability to think clearly was gone the moment i thought of coming back here. the latte was good though.

"oh... yeah it was delicious."

"i'm glad you liked it. it took a bit of convincing to even get them to add a seasonal menu."

"this whole thing was your doing?" i ask him and he nods

"yeah. they haven't had one since the last manager left long before i started working here."

"when did you start working here?"

"about 2 years ago, i believe. uh... do you live around this area?"

"yeah. i actually work at the call center not too far from here."

"oh? how come i've never seen you around?"

"i could say the same to you, uh..." i look a little closer at his nametag.

"wooyoung. my name is wooyoung." he tells me with a smile.

"i'm y/n."

"i'll keep that in mind." i smile at him and he obviously returns it.

☆★☆

my best friend squeals like a little baby raccoon at my little "confession". that being that i found interest in someone which hasn't happened since my last breakup about a year ago.

she always said, "heal from what? girl you ain't injured, onto the next!!" nevermind the fact that i put my all into a, seemingly, one-sided relationship.

"okay okay, tell me more."

"sarah, i only seen and spoke to him twice. finding interest in someone doesn't mean i'm trying to get emotionally involved with them. i know nothing about this guy.

" yeah but you said it felt like he was flirting with you." she pushes but i shake my head at her.

"yeah and i also said he probably flirts with other customers, maybe that's just how he is."

"okay since you don't wanna be 'emotionally involved' as you say, just fuck him and let off some steam. lord knows you need it."

"immediately no! you know how that shit ends sarah, it always ends in tears and i'm simply not willing to risk it. sorry to disappoint chief."

"but life is about taking risks"

"i'm not gonna sleep with him sarah. what if hes already tied down, first of all and secondly, i've had enough emotional distress this past year. i wanna focus on myself."

03/11/2023

focus on myself was the biggest bullshit i've told myself because what the actual fuck am i doing here again?

i sigh, walking to the café yet again. i've come here another, like seven times since the last time and engaged in a small conversation with the handsome cashier each time. he's got this thing about him that makes me so drawn to him and i know it's probably the dumbest thing i'm letting myself do, especially since i quite literally barely know this guy, but i'm already in too deep to try and get myself out.

"someone's here later than usual." wooyoung says upon my arrival to the counter.

"it's been a long ass day, i don't even wanna talk about it."

"alright, then we won't. rooibos tea?" he asks and i nod. talk about paying attention to detail.

"may i also have a lemon blueberry cheesecake slice please?" i ask and he smiles with a nod.

"sit in or takeout?"

"sit in." i confirm with him and he nods and prints out the slip.

"you know the drill." he smirks which i quickly look away frok for my own sanity.

"thank you." say and i turn to walk to the table.

"hey uh, y/n."

"hmm?"

"i'm actually clocking off in a bit but i need to get something for someone and i kinda need a second opinion on it so would you like to help me out?" he requests but unlike his usual confident behavior, he seems to be a bit nervous.

i smile at him before answering, "sure, why not."

"thank you, i appreciate it."

"no problem."

☆★☆

wooyoung and i walk side by side in the little shopping center nearby and i'm not gonna lie, it's a bit awkward. i'm willing to thug it out though.

"so what are we getting and who for?" i ask him and he hums.

"it's almost my friend's birthday and i wanted to get him something but i'm kinda bad at things like this so i needed a second opinion." he explains and i nod.

"so what's he like?"

"hmm?"

"your friend. what is he like? what does he like?"

he stops in his tracks to think a little which makes me stop too.

"well he's really reliable..." he says, his words trailing off.

"so insightful."

"well he's really into fashion. he experiments and all that cool stuff with his clothes."

"does he sew?" i ask him and he hims before shaking his head. "alright. uhh... make him something."

"do i look like i do arts and crafts?" he asks me with a finger pointed to himself.

"yes?"

"i'm sorry." he apologizes but o shake my head.

"don't worry about it. let's get him his gift." i reassure him and he nods cautiously.

we walk around the shopping center trying to think of something to get for this mystery man and i'm not gonna lie, it's difficult. it's already hard to think of a gift for someone you know, how do you think shopping for a stranger would be any easier?

the part i am enjoying though is spending time and getting to know wooyoung. he's really great company so being around him feels refreshing compared to being around the same 3 people who don't really give a fuck about what i do with my life, other than my best friend, of course, but life got so busy for both of us that we can't just make plans to meet up all willy nilly.

"hey, his birthday party is actually next friday, you should come by." he says to me as we're walking and i stop in my tracks.

"is that a good idea? i don't wanna like, intrude or anything."

"nonsense, i'll tell him you're with me. it's an open invite so..." he trails off and i sigh.

i've been dying to go out and have fun anyway, and meeting new people has never been an issue for me so why the hell not?

"okay fine. but if he looks even the slightest bit uncomfortable with me being there i'm going straight home." i tell him sternly which he smiles at.

"okay deal."

"the party starts at 7pm."

We reach the bus stop where there's a bus approaching in the distance.

"here take my number my number in case you need someone to pick you up for the party." he suggests and i nod, giving him my phone to write down and save his number. "don't hesitate to call."

"got it. thanks." i reply to him and get into the bus and i look at my phone and see what he saved his number as.

'woo 🔥🫦'

he cannot be serious.

all i can say to sum today up is, it was refreshing.

☆★☆

"HE ASKED YOU TO WHAT?!!!" sarah exclaims.

"calm down. he literally just invited me to a party."

"his friend's birthday party! you're locked in already." she says with emphasis on 'friend'. "do you think he invites every customer to his friends' birthday parties?"

"i don't know maybe?"

"babe, you built your walls so high that you can't even see over them. he's interested in you."

"i don't know..."

"i say go. at least let yourself have fun."

"fine." i say, finally giving in, i mean, it's just a party if we really think about it.

10/11/2023

i hesitantly click on call and the dial tone rings loud in my ear as i wait for him to pick up. maybe i should just hang up and just stay home in the comfort of my bed tonight.

"hello?"

too damn late.

"hi, wooyoung? oh, uh this is y/n from the café. you said to call if i need a way to get to the party."

"y/n, hi. i thought i came in too strong that day, you didn't stop by."

"sorry about that. i was just a bit busy, that's all."

LIE!

"that's good to know. uh, just tell me where to pick you up and i'll be there."

"the bus stop we went to last week."

"okay i'll be there in a bit."

"thank you." he hangs up and i sigh into tge cold air, looking down at my outfit. i hope i'm not overdressed... and i hope he likes the gift i got. it's just a necklace because i genuinely don't know what to get for him and i didn't wanna go empty handed.

surely enough though, wooyoung pulls up in a white car and he opens the passenger's window.

"you coming in or what?" he jokingly asks with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face and i scoff before entering.

"nice ride." i say, looking around the interior the car and then i turn to look at him.

"thanks, it's yunho's." he admits and i nod. i don't even know who that is but sure. "oh he's another friend of mine, you'll meet all of them today, don't worry about it."

"i'm excited." i beam, turning the volume of the radio up when i hear mamacita by chase atlantic playing and start dancing in ny seat, singing along to the song just overall vibing. "come on wooyoung sing!" i exclaim over the loud music and he sings along with a wide smile on his face.

☆★☆

we get out of the car at a club and wooyoung gets something in the car while i walk ahead and wanter off to the entrance without him but the bouncer blocks the way.

"sorry, were closed for tonight. invite only." he says and i stand there not knowing what to do.

"don't worry, she's with me." wooyoung's smooth voice says behind me and i look back at him and take in his entire appearance. he's wearing a black and white patterned shirt which isn't buttoned all the way, showing off his chest with black jeans and black boots and his hair is pulled back by a pair of sunglasses on top of his head.

he looks too good.

"my apologies." the bounced says and opens the door for us to enter.

"look at you, cool guy. 'she's with me.'" i imitate his voice and he rolls his eyes. "you guys rented this place out?"

"yeah, just the vip area. it's one of those nights where we act like we have more money than we actually do." he jokes and i laugh. "here we are."

he opens the door and let's me walk in before him. the lights immediately draw me in and the music hits my bones but i fight the urge to start dancing since i'm yet to meet everyone here.

"come with me to meet the others." he leads me to the upstairs area where there's a red-haired man talking to someone. i'm rendered speechless at how absolutely gorgeous he is.

"joong, i'd like you to meet someone." wooyoung announces, getting their attention. "uh, this is y/n. i mentioned inviting a plus one for tonight."

"hi guys." i greet with a wave.

"you're the one wooyoung begged me to invite." a man with red hair says stepping forward and i nod.

"yeah that would be me. it's nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you too. i'm hongjoong."

"belated happy birthday hongjoong. i hope you like this." i say and hand him the small gift bag i've been holding.

"you didn't have have to bring a gift. thank you." he smiles, taking the bag. "thanks for making it tonight. please enjoy your night."

"thank you."

wooyoung and walk to a group of people who are sitting around a table and chatting it up.

"hi guys."

"woo, you're back." a really tall, insanely handsome, pink haired man yells over the music and his eyes fall on me for a second. "and who might you be?"

"i'm y/n." i respond, stretching my hand out.

"i'm mingi." he smirks, taking my hand for a handshake.

"this is yeosang, those ones over there are san and his girlfriend ari, jongho went to get drinks with seonghwa and that's yunho and his girlfriend, rissa. guys this is y/n." wooyoung cuts between mingi and i to introduce me to everyone else.

"nice to meet you guys."

"you too. care to join us?" ari asks, holding up a shot glass with some clear liquid.

"now we're talking." i breathe out and make my way to the small circle consisting of san, ari and yeosang.

ari hands me a shot glass and pours me some vodka. i take the shot, letting the liquid burn down my throat and i cringe at the bitter taste.

"so what do you do?" san asks, leaning into ari a bit more.

"i'm a call center representative." i respond to her while putting ghe glass down on the table in front of us. "it's really boring though."

"i could never be one, honestly." ari sighs out and i nod in agreement.

"i've been damn near quitting so many times. what do you guys do?" i ask back, trying to keep the conversation going.

"well i just got laid off work at an accounting firm and san and yeosang work together as personal trainers at the gym nearby."

"more like you got fired." san comments and the girl looks at him with a deadpan expression.

two other men return with bottles in hand who im guessing are jongho and seonghwa. now does wooyoung only associate himself with good looking people? because everyone i've met today is insanely hot.

hongjoong returns from wherever he wad and that's when i hear my song boom through the speakers which immediately gets me on my feet. i've spent a good hour mingling with everyone, getting to know them. it's time to shake some ass.

the alcohol is very well in our systems and i feel rissa grab one of my hands and pulls me up to start dancing to the song.

"come join us birthday boy!" i yell to hongjoong who's standing around with everyone else.

i was definitely over thinking coming out here tonight because i'm having so much fun with these people.

☆★☆

we partied into the early hours of the morning until we couldn't. like literally everyone is exhausted and ready to hit the sheets.

"thank you for letting me crash your party hongjoong. i had fun." i thank hongjoong who goes in for a friendly hug.

"it's not a problem. it's always great making new friends. get home safe, alright."

"i will, thanks." we hug one more time and i say my goodbyes to everyone.

"remember what i said girlie." ari yells to me and i salute to her and turn into someone, coming eye to eye with that horrendous patterned shirt that he managed to pull off.

"come on, let's get you home." he offers and i smile shyly.

"i wouldn't wanna be a bother. besides, i can make it there on my own."

"i have no doubt about that but let me earn my gentleman title here. besides, it wouldn't feel right dragging you here then leaving you to find your own way back." he insistently tells me and i fake a shocked gasp.

"not even because you wanna make sure i get home save, that you're worried about me? i'm hurt."

"and dramatic, let's go."

15/11/2023

i walk into the familiar café without a second thought this time and walk straight to the counter where wooyoung is standing but he's looking elsewhere.

"hey." he looks up and stands up straight.

"you know i'm starting to feel like you only come here when it's my shift." he teases with a smirk but i don't let my guard down one bit.

"oh please, i only come here at this time because it's when i clock off from work."

"aww no other reason? not because you like to see my handsome face?" he questions.

"no it's not that..." i trail, pretending to be in thought before i trail my eyes to him and he's looking at me unimpressed.

"just order and get out of here."

i briefly laugh at his mini outburst. just briefly.

"i'll get the usual." i tell him and he nods, taking down my order.

"and you'll sit in because no matter how much you deny it, you're obsessed with me."

"oh i'm so obsessed, i only frequent this café at this exact time just so i can sit and stare at your handsome face. is that what you wanted to hear?"

"yes, here's your order number. you know the drill."

"wooyoung, i didn't say i wanna sit in."

"you did just now. go on."

i shoot him a glare that he returns a brief sarcastic smile at. i just take the next number from the stack and go to my regular seat.

ever since hongjoong's party, my friendship with wooyoung has developed from acquaintances to actual friends. like he even sent a goodnight text the other night and i felt my heart hiccup. i thought my poor lifestyle choices were catching up to me.

"your order madam." i turn to wooyoung who's now in front of me with a tray in hand. him and i both know he's not supposed to be delivering orders so why is he not behind the counter?

"wooyoung?"

"here before the manager catches me out here." he informs me, looking over his shoulder to check if he's been caught.

"i didn't order an apple crumble though."

"it's on the house. look, i like you y/n and, i don't know, i guess this is my way of showing that. i know it's not the best way to tell you all this but can we talk after my shift?" he asks and walks back behind the counter. just in time for the customer who is just now entering. it's the same girl from all those weeks ago, if my sight is as clear as i believe it is, that is, and i feel my heart sink watching the two of them interact.

have i really let my guard down this much already? i don't know what to do...

23/11/2023

i haven't talked to wooyoung in like five days and my left eye is starting to twitch. there is really no reason for me to ghost him so suddenly, especially after things have been going so well, i mean, i'm locked in with his friends now.

i'm being stupid, and i know i am but the fear of getting my heart broken again overpowers the little bit of critical thinking i have.

"y/n, have you spoken to wooyoung? he's been a bit besides himself." rissa asks me while the movie plays ever so softly on the television. i introduced her and ari to sarah and we all decided to crash at ari and san's house and bust out some movies. only thing is, her and sarah literally passed out minutes into the first movie so it's just rissa and i.

"what do you mean?"

"yunho said he's been in his head the last couple of days."

"oh... i don't know, i haven't really noticed." i tell her quietly and she deadpans at me.

"oh really?" she asks with an unamused tone in her voice and i shrug. "what's really going on?"

"i'm scared of letting myself fall for someone because i don't wanna get my heart broken again."

she turns in her seat to face me completely and she sighs.

"it's too late for that, don't you think?" she questions and i look at her im confusion.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean that you've already fallen for him. you're distancing yourself because you already have and you don't want it to go any further."

i think to myself for a quick second...

i've found myself enjoying his company to the point where i can't wait for the next awful day at work so i can go see him at the café. i get excited when he texts and smile so wide seeing his name pop up on my screen.

fuck this i'm in too deep now.

"seen the light huh?" she asks anf i sigh frustratedly, burying my face in my hands. "you really think wooyoung would break your heart?"

"i don't know... he doesn't seem like he would, i mean, he's so sweet but i've been blindsided before."

"i understand you're scared but trust me, i've known wooyoung for a good five years now and he's never gone out of his way to hurt anyone's feelings."

"okay well who's that girl wooyoung was flirting with at the café?" i ask her and she shrugs.

"what girl?"

"there's a girl with long, ass-length, blonde hair. she's moderately short."

"no way you're intimidated by her."

"you know her?"

"if the person you're describing is who i have in mind... there aren't a lot of blondes in this area. you're probably talking about yuri."

"yuri?"

"she's like, obsessed with wooyoung. he's a really fun and charismatic man so it's easy to be swayed."

"how lovely." i sarcastically comment.

"sorry. she took everything he said as a hint and she's convinced that he wants her but he doesn't. he's just kind to her, that's all."

"and has he made it clear to her that he's uninterested?"

"many times. she says he's in denial."

"wow."

"yeah. so you have nothing to worry about. that man is probably losing sleep wondering what he did wrong for you to stop texting. in your attempt to preserve your feelings"

"i hurt his..." i finish her sentence and she nods.

"his birthday is coming up but the party is this saturday. he'd like you to come."

"i owe him an explanation."

"yes you do."

25/11/2023

the girls and i are getting ready for wooyoung's birthday party at rissa's apartment and i am stressing out, like my leg is bouncing up and down at such a high speed that it feels like my whole body is vibrating. the past two days i was trying to find the right words and put them together.

"girl this isn't an unprepared speech for school, just apologize and tell him how you feel." sarah tells me but that does not help how i'm feeling right now.

"it's not easy."

"come on. you look too hot to be sulking in the corner. i'm a hundred percent sure he's gonna wanna talk to you and hear you out." ari comments which lifts the mood a bit. i even cracked a teensy smile.

"come let's go ladies." rissa says and we file out of the house.

☆★☆

we just got here and there's already someone throwing up in a bush. this is gonna be fun.

"y/n come!" sarah pulls me with here wherever she's going.

"i need to find wooyoung."

"exactly, you need to take a shot before talking to him!"

"sober babes. i need to talk to him completely sober." she let's go of my hand.

"okay then, go look for your man, i'll be by the drinks."

"right behind you." rissa agrees, walking away with Sarah and i sigh.

"i need to go find san, wanna come with me?" ari asks and i turn to look at her. "where you find san, you find wooyoung, come."

i nod and follow her lead the way to the living room of the house where there's a bunch of people there.

"the life of the party is here!" ari announces and makes her way to san who let's her sit on his lap but there's no sign of wooyoung in here. did bro ditch his own party?

"hi everyone."

"y/n, you look stunning." mingi compliments me while walking my way. he takes my hand and makes me do a little spin.

"why thank you mingi. i guess i could say the same to you."

"hey, don't hurt me like this." he says, putting a hand on his chest on fake offense.

"you'll be alright. has anyone seen wooyoung?" i ask everyone but all i get as a response is murmurs across the room.

"check the backyard." one of the men say and a nod with a little thank you.

"okay thanks."

i make my way to the exit to the back yard where it's a bit emptier than inside. it's quieter with crickets chirping somewhere in the plants wnf a nice breeze cools down my skin. it's easier to breathe out here in comparison to the stuffy air inside but alas, there sits wooyoung on the grass with a can of beer in hand.

i can do this. i owe him an explanation after all so i go and sit right next to him which attracts his attention but his blank expression doesn't leave his face upon seeing me.

"hi." i greet him to break the ice but the tension between us is palpable. i clear my throat before attempting to speak again. "wooyoung, can we talk? please, i'm not here to defend myself..."

all he does is silently take a sip from his can and i let out a breath. this is gonna be difficult.

"wooyoung."

"you know, you could've at least told me you weren't interested instead of making me fall for you and look stupid for it." his words cut deep that i don't think i can even come up with any words to say to him.

"i was wrong, i know, and i'm really sorry for that. it was unfair of me to do that to you, you didn't deserve that and i feel horrible for what i did." i apologetically tell him but my eyes are glued to the grass patch in front of us.

"can you at least tell me why?"

"i'm a coward. running seemed easier than letting myself fall for you. i didn't have the best relationship with my ex and our breakup wasn't pretty either, i was in shambles and left to pick up the pieces and put them back and i thought i had finally done that, but clearly i left some of them behind." i explain to him scoffing at my own words at the end. "i saw you talking with a girl i thought you were flirting with and i put all my defenses back up and ended up doing to you what i was scared would happen to me."

"please, she's been annoying me for years now. i've never been interested in her and i've made that clear, i wouldn't flirt with her if i've been trying to get her off my arm. i like you, y/n. let me be there for you. there's no point in restricting your feelings like this. let yourself fall, i'll catch you."

"will you catch my baggage too?" i question and he shifts so that he's sitting in front of me.

"i'll carry it for you y/n."

"wooyoung i like you too and i won't lie and say i haven't imagined us together a couple of times. i'm willing to let my walls down for you if you're still willing to be in my life like that."

"yes, i'll be your boyfriend." he says confidently and i shake my head in disapproval

"i didn't even ask though."

"okay then ask because i'm getting impatient." i laugh at his excitement.

"will you be my boyfriend?" i finally ask him and he puts a hand over his mouth with a gasp all dramatic like a little schoolgirl who's crush liked her picture on instagram.

"yes, i'd love to be your boyfriend." he beams and i smile back at him.

"oh and before i forget. i got you this. it's not much but it's from my heart." i tell him, handing him the gift i got for him.

"what's this?" he asks, taking the small box in his hands.

"open it." i tell him nervously and he does just that and he takes the metal keychain out, smiling when he reads what's written on it.

"you like it?" i ask him nervously.

"yeah i do." he smiles, looking at it.

it's written 'ginger cinnamon rooibos tea with a little teacup hanging from a different chain.

"a significant part of how our relationship blossomed." he says and i let out a relieved sigh.

"i'm glad you like it."

"thank you y/n. for giving me a chance with you and for this."

"it's a pleasure."

"let's go inside, i wanna tell everybody that the cute girl at the coffee shop is now my girlfriend." he exclaims and i laugh as he helps me up.

"let's go."

we walk into the house with wooyoung telling everyone we pass by, "she's my girlfriend."

"hello everyone, i'm back here with my girlfriend." wooyoung says to everyone in the room.

"so it finally happened huh?" hongjoong asks and we nod rapidly.

"she's a yapper." sarah 'whispers' to everyone in the room.

"great because he does too." san confirms and everyone agrees that there's a lot in their hands with us being a couple now.

"oh it's 12 o'clock." rissa announces and we shout a happy birthday to you wooyoung and i hug him tightly.

"happy birthday boyfriend."

"why thank you girlfriend." he smiles and everyone mumbles a choir of disgusted comments.

#wooyoung #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x black reader #ateez x black reader

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squicky-fannish-discourse · 1 month ago

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The Gauntlet!

In a world where BEGA wins, Beyblader Hiromi wants to create her own BBA. And she's dragging Kai along.

Author's note: I really want to post this on AO3, but I don't remember my password and it seems like most of the beyblading fans are on here?

But here's a Kaihil Au that I may or may not continue depending on how many ideas I get. I'll just update it in a different post or something.

Also, at this point, can be taken as platonic or romantic.

They are childhood friends in this AU

oh and also @citruscloudsandmoon who eggs me on hahah

Chapter 2 >>>

Main directory

Hiromi opens her eyes to the mid-afternoon blue skies.

It’s been almost a year, and this is a BEGA hell-infested town, which is the home of the former G-Revs, now just nothing. She stares up at the birds which fly over.

In any world where she beyblades, Hiromi thinks. She’s always been more interested in the ins and outs of beyblading rather than the glory and fame. So it makes sense that she gravitated towards street blading and their community of building hack builds and doing funny sciencey things with beyblading and street gangs.

Streetblading will never die. Ever. They will always go underground, or so Maiko-nee tells her. Even when the whole world commercializes beyblading.

Hiromi looks around at Hiwatari Kai. He stares at her.

”Why are you sleeping on the grass?”

“Why are you watching me sleep like a big creep?”

“Did you know,” he said slowly. “Some strange guy could be hiding in the bush watching you?”

“You mean you?” she asked with a laugh as she held out a hand so he could pull her up, but he doesn’t take it, so she huffs at him. So she pulls herself up grumbling— “Oof! You don’t know how to treat a lady! You’re a big creep!”

He’s her childhood friend.

And the Bladebreakers are nothing but a scrambled bunch of kids who used to beyblade. Kinomiya’s in her class. She knows Max’s father owns a beyblade store, but his son doesn’t blade anymore. His friend, Rei has gone back to China.

And Kai? Kai is focusing on highschool. She’s the only one she knows since they were childhood friends, and she came back from London. Crabbier than she remembered as a child, but when he’s immature, you can see child Kai.

Like now.

He smirked at her.

Her Grandpa loves Kai for no good reason—coz he’s got a good business sense, and he’s old and likes the company news. And Kai’s had—for lack of better word—a no good grandfather at home, who his mom is taking care of. And he just doesn’t like going home either lately.

So while her Grandfather is crabby, and complains. At least he has a civil sense of responsibility, Hiromi supposes. He did often look after Kai with them as a child, and was horrified to learn about the abbey.

But her Grandpa associates beyblading with insanity anyway.

Kai doesn’t blame Voltaire for the fall of BBA. But he doesn’t like being home. Or anywhere right now. Everything is suffocating, and they took the one thing he’s been ambivalent in his life about—beyblading. And now he’s just frustrated. So he probably did like it after all. At least that’s what Hiromi understands about him.

And in return—on days like this—he shows up, and vents frustration in a match at her.

“Let’s go.”

“I wanted to visit Tsurugi and Maiko-san today,” Hiromi said. “I have been thinking of something crazy lately.”

“Whatever. Give me a match, and then you can go off on your own merry way.”

Hiromi wants to street blade, and she uses him as an excuse. Like oh, I’m with Kai.

She’s not with Kai.

And her Grandfather’s just fine with that.

“I’m planning on dragging you though,” she said.

“What is it?” he asked her in annoyance.

“Just come along!”

So instead of them going to the bey-dish which they usually go to, she just grabbed him by his arm, and he nearly tripped over a rock.

”I can walk myself,” he called out.

“I don’t know if you’ll run away though!! You're not trustworthy at all! Like the neighborhood cat,” she said.

”Maybe it knows you’re pushy as hell,” he calls out, annoyed, but she’s basically dragging him.

“C’mon!!! I just want to show you something.”

Has he been working out? Hiromi wonders off handedly.

✧.*

Hiromi thinks that this place—-which isn’t much at all like the bigger street blading communities—but it’s kind of homey anyway, located in the middle of a bit of an empty industrial abandoned area near the coast. It smells of fish and rust and sometimes funny. There’s parts you can’t enter.

The city knows that they frequent this place, and they allowed them to build this indoor ramp in the warehouse. And they cordoned off other bits.

The older college kids—and now highschool kids who come here to beyblade as part of “Bakuten’s Street blading Resistance” or BSR for short—come here. It’s very tongue in cheek.

Trade parts. Yammer about beyblading. Host mini-competitions. Because they’ll never switch to BEGA.

Street blading will never die. Ever. Hiromi thinks with a happy smile. After all, where else does she go to mess around and debate physics with? It’s her best subject because of street blading.

They built a half-pipe skateboarding ramp right smack in the middle of the warehouse.

”Hibiki!” Tsurugi called. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to test out this beyblade,” he said. He was releasing a wonky beyblade.

”Can you help me fix up these lights? Someone?!” he called out. No one’s listening. “Oi—“ He called out to Kai. “Think you could hand me one of those bulbs?”

Kai wordlessly helps him as he reaches into a messy pile of tools and things over to hand over the bulbs.

The warehouse lights up.

”Finally!”

“Wow, it kind of looks cinematic,” Hiromi says, as she steps atop the ramp. “Like I’m a model in a runway!”

“Ooo!” Maiko said. “This could be funny if we used it as a concert venue too.”

“Can we stick to beyblading alone?!”

“I’ll bring my band.”

“And now it’s the best place in the city,” Hiromi announced. “We have lights—ramps, everything. Our tournie is going to be a blast.”

Kai stares at her in slow confusion.

”What?”

“We’re hosting a tournament,” she said happily. “The biggest tournament that ever tournamented!”

“It’s not even that big,” Tsurugi siad. “But Hiromi’s been pretty awfully excited about it.”

“I’m going to call it gauntlet, and we’ll be so popular, we’ll overtake BEGA’s popularity.”

She spread out her arms.

He stares at her.

”Well,” Tsurugi said with a laugh. “It was Hiromi-chan’s idea, and she’s been trying to source everything. I’m Tsurugi by the way—the oldest one in this group. Don’t ask my age. I’ll feel old.”

“He knows Hitoshi!” Hiromi said as she got off the ramp.

“Maiko-chan!” the girl called out. “I’m the same age as Hitoshi. Myself and HIbiki went to highschool together with him. He's kinda of a butt. We’re supposedly going to college together. But he quit for what’s it—Bitbeast archaeology?”

“Where is Hitoshi anyway?” the one called Hibiki asked.

“Heck if I know.” Tsurugi asked with a laugh. “That brat doesn’t even call me.”

"He's vague as hell, about what he's doing."

He’s… older than Takao’s brother.

“Is that Kai Hiwatari?” one of the highschool kids called out. They don’t go to Hiromi’s highschool—but they are in the area.

Kai stiffened up awkwardly, unsure of how to respond as the others were looking at him.

”He’s joining us!” Hiromi announced. “He’s like m’childhood friend.”

”What?”

”Your’re joining our tournie?”

”The prize is like—one pack of gum,” another girl announced. “S’all I got.”

He just awkwardly shrugs. They all shrug.

“Hiromi!” one of the boys yells. “Give me a match for last time!”

“Okay!” she calls out with a laugh. “Wanna go right now? We’re up first!” She climbs the staircase to the top. “Whooo! It’s wobbly!”

“It ain’t known for it’s safety,” Hibiki called out. “Don’t fall or die.”

“Hibiki, your dad’s a carpenter, right? Can’t you get him to come and inspect this?”

“Yeah, I could, but he’s so done with me beyblading when I should be looking for a job.”

She angles Suzumebachi over the skateboard ramp, while he glares at her and he launches his own bey, and Suzumebachi speeds up through the platform, downhill, knocking him out flat to the left.

“Hahaha! Having no sides to this ‘beydish’ is actually kind of fun.”

“Increases the pace of the battle though,” Tsurugi said. “On either side. You either increase in velocity.”

“Or get punted out ahhahaha!”

“Helps the folks here who aren’t Hiromi,” Maiko said with a laugh. “She knocks you out in three seconds flat with her speed build.”

Kai thinks that they are relatively nice though.

He looked around at the warehouse. The skateramps are built of steel.

”This thing will fall apart in a bad-beybattle,” he said slowly, expecting someone to get mad.

They looked contemplative.

”You think so?” one of the other kids asked. He noticed that none of them were very hostile or weird towards him. “Think it’s good for a start.”

“Why didn’t we stick to a traditional bowl?” he asked.

“Hiromi-chan suggested a skate rink instead of a beydish. Less traditional and more control needed.”

“Maybe we should invest in bamboo.”

“And have it catch fire?”

“If the city gave us a permit,” Maiko said. “We should just built several rinks or something—into the ground.”

“I still think we should solder toy train tracks onto it,” Hiromi said. “And someone controls it at the side!”

”Hiromi-chan sure comes up with the most ambitious ideas.”

“But they are quite fun though!”

"Hear me out thoughhh! If we remote controll it! Rig it to a beat or something!"

✧.*

The chewing gum pack was a prize you got in the mini “Street tournie.”

Hiromi glared at Kai.

He blew a bubble slowly.

It popped in her face.

Hiromi opened her mouth in annoyance.

He chewed again with a grin.

”Hey!!” she yelled as he laughed. The match came down to the two of them, because he managed to really blow off steam, because she's really annoying to beat. “Heyyyy!”

He won.

“Maybe,” he said. “I can acquire the warehouse,” he said.

“That’s a lot of money.”

”Wow,” he said sardonically. “Sure pays to be rich. Did you want gum?"

"I don't want the cavities."

“Let’s go home,” he said.

“Your home?”

“No. I’m dropping you off, and then I’m going back home.”

“You could just hang out with us,” she said as she caught up to him, because he walks fast. “Grandpa loves you honestly. He’s better than your weird Grandpa. Better yet, just live with us. But wait, then what would I use as an alibi? Also what if you just steal my beyblade parts.”

“It’s astonishing the amount of beyblade parts you’ve managed to hoard. What the… hell are you doing?”

She grinned impishly. He wants to flick her nose or something.

“Not telling youuu.”

✧.*

Later that night—at Hiromi’s place, hearing the sounds of Grandpa and her Father talking downstairs, and Hiromi talking to one of her British street blading friends beside her about ‘The tourney is an absolute success! Lou!” He closes his eyes.

”Hiromi!” Grandpa yelled. “Go to sleep!”

And their family cat, Mochi enters through the door, and climbs atop the bed.

Unsurprisingly, of the four of them, Kai’s more at ease right now. He has the Tachibana family to thank to just… anchor him back down. Hiromi’s the type of person who’s comforting to be around with, and she just has that excitement which he finds infectious sometimes.

Suddenly the door opens. He opens his eyes to see her peeking in. Hiromi blinks. He stares her down.

“What?”

She propped her hands on the bed.

“Kai!”

“What?”

She grins brightly.

“So, will you tell your team to join the street tournie?”

He stares at her. Then he reaches over to her face.

And he flicks her nose.

“Ow! Hey!! Why are you hurting m’nose for?” she whines.

“Kinomiya’s in your class. Just go ask him.”

“He’s kinda closed off though,” Hiromi said as she crouched, and she peeked at him. “Maybe it’ll come out better from you. Like hey—my childhood friend, Hiromi. She’s so amazing and even better than me at beyblading.” He scoffed. “I am though! I did win like 4 out of 5 matches.”

“2 out of five!”

“Mochi disagrees. He believes Hiromi wins all the time.”

“Right."

“And she’d like to take us street blading. It ain’t BBA, but it’s something. We’re callin’ it the gauntlet! All Hiromi’s idea. Then mebbe I could meet Rei for real?”

He rolled his eyes.

“He’s not to come all the way from China just for a street beyblading match.”

She pouted, as she rested her chin on his bed edge.

“Buuuuut, what if we go worldwide.”

“Oh okay,” he said. “You do that then I call Rei.”

She flapped her arms happily.

“We’ll be so amazing. Oooh! I have more ideas. We’ll be called the Gauntlet. The more challenging BEGA, Mochi!” Mochi flicked his tail lazily as he stared at her. “With extreme bey-dishes, I can see the VISION!”

He wants to say something sarcastic, but in all honesty, Kai doesn’t think it’s a bad idea. Because she and streetbladers world wide are resisting BEGA by making their own parts and building their own extreme ramps or bey-dishes.

They could very well create something like this—including himself.

He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t want to talk to Kinomiya.”

“Huh?!”

“I think you should go talk to him.”

“He’s nice to his fangirls, so I could probably approach him like that.”

“Approach him like a normal person. What’s the worst he’s going to say? No? Or maybe you should talk to Max first.”

Hiromi’s eyes lit up at him like a million stars.

✧.*

Chapter 2 >>>

Main directory

#kaihil #hilary tachibana #hiromi tachibana #kai hiwatari #beyblade #bakuten shoot beyblade #ocs

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tourettesdog · 2 years ago

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DPxDC Dog Prompts

Here’s my collection of DPxDC prompts I’ve made, collected together!

Most of them lean towards Gotham/Batpham content, since that is where my own interests with the crossover are most prominent.

A lot of these prompts have had continuations and fics added in the notes! If you like one, I’d recommend checking to see if anyone’s done more with it.

I might reorganize these some other time, perhaps by length/type of prompt, etc, but for now it’s just roughly in order of when they were posted.

If any links are broken, tell me and I’ll see about finding the link!

Adopting a ghost (just a ghost, right?)

Oops yeah Vlad’s sus

We forgot the clone detail

Let’s try that summon again

Please let me help you’re gross

An electric core

You summoned me so I’m your problem

Halfa (not that he noticed)

Dani and Haly’s Circus

Batman’s a ghost, right?

An anchor to the Zone

Accidentally raising Batman’s son

Stuck in Gotham, losing even more

John Constantine’s accidental trip

A sick trail

Too spooky no thanks

Blood Blossoms across Gotham

Trying to sneeze a way home

Accidental twin(?) acquisition

My dog now

Old friends, unfortunate connections

Dinner interrupted

That dog’s green for another reason

Summoning a guardian instead

Danny isn’t what he expected

An uncomfortable heir

Apex predator Gotham

A girlfriend with a haunting past

Cleansing music

The forgotten queen

At the center of it all

Plans sidelined for a few ghosts

Amity stuck in the past

A dynasty built on ghosts

A haunting joke

A little to the left

Walker hates jokes

Vampiric wards?

Jack and Janet Drake go for a dig

Swapping ghosts for folks

Trapped for too long

Jason Todd: a bad anniversary

Taking care of a severed soulmate

Tim Drake has a portal accident

Disabled Dani

Technus hacks for a good cause

Freakshow picks up a stray Jay

Trying to save yourself without knowing it

Beast Boy’s a little bit spooky

The Fenton and Drake feud

A ghostly Batman

Johnny and Kitty from Gotham

Wtf just happened to the Earth?

Hood and the Holiday Truce

A Little Baby Man infestation

Jason, silent since the grave

A tomb like a cocoon

Deaged: there the whole time

Red Hood, ghostly beneath the helmet

When vigilantes ruin your disappearing act

Ghostly soul marks

Summonings and sharing exes

The call of a ghostly stone

An ill-advised cat burglary

Clockwork might not have been the best choice

Val moves to Gotham

Summoned in his stead

Damian gets to pick for once

A concerning return to AO3

The side effects of cleansing a core

Killed and saved by a joke

Red Hood gets souped

Gotham wants Jason back in his grave

A friendly ghost Robin goes missing

Wes needs to learn to shutup

Corrupted vs pure ectoplasm: FIGHT

Demon twins: an unfortunate “corpse” discovery

Demon twins: menace of Gotham

Ivy and Harley in Amity

Occult shop in Gotham

John gets pawned

Demon twins: Sam in the know (derogatory)

Crown too big for he gotdamn head

Little Baby Man after king fight

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dogprompts #batpham

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

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Up All Night 5

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, narcissim, probably name calling and nasty words, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (older!reader)

Note: I wasn’t serious about this but now I were. Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You know you won’t get much sleep. It’s not unusual. Whether you’re staying late to clean up after the manchild or getting in early to do the same, your nights are short and restless. That one is particularly disturbed as you are innately aware of his presence on just the other side of the wall.

He is in your space. The one place in your life he hasn’t invaded. Until then.

You sink into a shallow sleep. The world looms through a thin sheet of concsciousness as your breathing forms a calming rhythm amidst the distant noises of the nocturnal traffic. You roll over and nestle down deeper, reaching for a more succinct respite.

You push your hand up under the pillow and bury your face in the pillow. You don’t have much time left. In an hour or so, you’ll have too get up and go through your morning routine. It may take longer considering the pest that’s infested your apartment.

Your worries pervade even your dreams as the vision of the office rises hazy behind your eyelids. You sit as you always do, typing as you glance back and forth at the empty office. Again, not unusual yet there is a sense of something amiss.

You look at your screen but can’t read the words. You push back the chair, the wheels squeaking loud as you pivot and search the space. It’s completely empty. As you turn back, even your desk is gone.

It is impossibly frigid and suddenly stolid as the office walls fade to gray. You groan as you float into the limbo between reality and dreams. Neither is much different from the other, blending in a twisted muddle of stress.

“Mmm, baby,” a deep rumble rolls through you, “silky… I like it.”

Your eyes snap open as you feel the rustle of your satin nightgown, a blaring heat against your back, the scent of cologne and alcohol roiling together in your nose. You reach down to stop the creeping touch as thick fingers push up the lace trim of your nightie. You growl as you cling to Ransom’s hand, jerking your elbow back into his ribs.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You croak through your dry throat, tearing his arm off of you as you roll onto your back.

“Huh?” His confusion catches in his throat.

“Why are you in my bed?”

You reach over and tug the chain the bedside lamp, the light shining through the ivory shade. You’re greeted by the sight of Ransom’s broad shoulders and his bare torso, pelvis barely hidden by the corner of your duvet. You blink and scowl at him.

“Why are you naked?”

“What the hell?” He sits up, “I thought– what the hell? How did I get here?”

“You tell me,” you snarl.

“I woke up on the couch and… I figured… I pulled some ass–”

“You are an ass,” you hug the blanket to your stomach, “get out of my bed.”

He doesn’t move. He looks at the door then back at you. You furrow your brow as his eyes wander down your neck. You raise the duvet as your nostrils flare.

“You’re couch kinda sucks–”

“Get out–”

“Come on. I won’t touch ya. And I’m still a little drunk,” he pinches his fingers in the air, “you really shouldn’t leave me alone.”

You glare at him. You think of getting up and stomping out to sleep on the couch yourself. You won’t do that. He doesn’t win here. This is your domain.

“You can get up or I will make you get up,” you sneer.

He squints and lets out a scoff, “what if I told you I’m already halfway there?”

You shake your head, “what?”

He looks down at his lap, spreading his hand over the blanket as the fabric shifts and reveals the nakedness of his thigh. Your lips curl and an audible noise of disgust crawls out of your throat. Your fist hits his shoulder before you can think.

“You are disgusting.”

“Hey, you should be flattered. A lady your age… waking the beast–”

“I am not some stupid young thing,” you retort.

“Don’t have to remind me,” he rolls his eyes.

“Maybe I should remind you that you are my boss. This is unseemly.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” He falls back against the pillow, “if you’re not gonna solve the problem. Isn’t that you’re job?"

“Do you have no shame?” You spit.

He smirks as he folds his arms behind his head. He pushes his chest out and wiggles his hips, the blanket threatening to reveal even more. Revulsion courses up your spin and fills your stomach with bile. In a million years, you would never touch Ransom Drysdale.

You sputter and recoil. You grumble as you turn your back to him and stand, tugging down your nightie as you stand and snatch your watch from beside the lamp. You check the time. Another early morning.

“Go to sleep then,” you grit, “you’ll be a lot more tolerable then.”

You sweep out of the room as you slip the watch around your wrist. You pad down the hall and rub your itchy hot eyes. Your head is already pounding. The thought of coffee consumes you, promising some relief before you face another day of that man and his incompetence.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #up all night #au #club au #knives out #series

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wehaveimagineshere · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyyyy it's Couldn't Sleep aka inciting Carlos request back at it again. I was wondering if I could ask for a sort of pseudo-followup I guess? Where the reader has a nightmare about their not-so-great childhood and Carlos comforts them and tells them it's ok to cry and they're finally safe now. I uh....... didn't have a great night. cptsd for the win. Anyway love you, Ren. Hope you have a good day. Again, thanks for writing my other prompt. I'm gonna try and get a nap in today I'm still so sleepy.

I'm so sorry this is coming out so late! I hope you were able to sleep and you've been getting okay sleep since you sent this in. CPTSD is not fun ever, and I'm so sorry you have to struggle with it. Remember that you're strong, courageous, terrifying, and you can shake the world off its axis if you put your mind to it <3

But most of all, you're safe. Especially in Carlos' arms <3

~*~*~

It's a prison that you can almost forget about.

Its claws can become almost blanket soft, a whisper against the skin. Its footsteps can fit almost perfectly into your own, the same shoe size and indent in the sand. Its voice can become nigh indistinguishable from your own, praise and happiness flowing freely.

But in the end it is still a prison. Its claws still sharp, digging canyons into your arms, your chest. Hounding your every step, threatening to trip you up. Telling you foul and disgusting lies, wrapping you into a world of darkness and fear.

It is a prison you have yet to find the exit to, as you go from one room to another. As you are once again forced to relive what should only be distant memories, distance feelings, the claws digging deeper and deeper into your flesh. You try to remind yourself of the people who matter, who care about you, but it tries so desperately to hold you in place, to keep it company in the rot infested darkness. Choking you, trapping you.

And all you can do is scream. Scream into an endless void that swallows your very sound, your very heartbeat, what makes you you as you endlessly struggle, the blood endlessly pouring down your limbs and pooling at your feet.

An endless ocean, suffocating, thick--

Your eyes fly open as you jerk up, lungs struggling to suck down air as you scramble backward, back hitting the headboard, eyes darting to asses the threat, to find the exits--

"The door is over there, and it's open."

You hear him before you see him, a small gesture capturing your gaze as he points. Fear roots you in place, eyes boring into his, watching his body language, his expression, waiting for--

He's at the edge of the bed. No, he's standing at the foot, arms up, palms pointed your way.

Something eases in your chest.

"You're okay," you hear him say as the fear crashes, leeching your limbs of energy. "You're safe, sweetheart."

Glancing once more about the room, you note the drawn curtains, the cracked window. The rumpled blankets at the foot of the bed and to your side, too far away for you to have done it yourself. The water bottle on your bedside table, unopened, and indeed the bedroom door ajar.

Looking up once more, you finally take in Carlos. Shirtless, hair askew, shoulders tense, you recognize the look he's giving you as your muscles finally relax.

"Carlos," you whisper, dragging your knees up to your chest and hugging them tight.

"Hey, honey. I'm here. What do you need?"

All you can do is reach out a hand.

He moves slowly, deliberately, giving you all the time in the world to shift away as he crawls back onto the bed, hand grasping yours and bringing it to his chest, pressing your palm above his heart.

"You're safe, sweetheart," he repeats, bringing his free hand up to gently wipe away the tears you didn't realize had escaped. "You're home, with me. And I won't let anything hurt you, you know that."

You nod.

He reaches over, gently drawing you against his chest, loose enough so you can back out if needed.

Instead you melt into him, the tears coming freely, wracking your body as sobs escape. You're so tired but so wired, your brain struggling to align itself out of the dream and flashbacks, trying to remind itself that you're safe now.

You've always been safe with him. Especially as Carlos tucks you in close, his heartbeat now in your ears, a steady, constant rhythm in your life.

"You're safe," he says again, quieter, as his fingers run across your shoulders, your back. "You're safe. Take a deep breath." You do, holding it until until he says to let go. As you take your fourth breath he reaches to grab the water bottle. "Here. Take a drink."

It takes a moment to open the cap, but the cool water sliding down your chest helps ease more of the tension, cooling the stove heating your blood. Sighing, you set the bottle down and rub your face. "I'm sorry."

"For what? Having a nightmare? I get them too."

"For waking you up. For..." For the fear, the sadness, the helplessness, the anger, for a damaged version of yourself. "For this."

"And what is this?" he asks, brushing more tears from your cheeks. "For how amazing you are? For how you're ride or die for the people you care about? How badass you are every day?"

"I--"

"Sure, maybe you put dye in my shampoo once and I walked around with green hair for a week. But it was Saint Patrick's Day. Most people wear a green shirt or something, I had green hair."

A smile tugs at your lips.

"I had people come up to me going, 'Carlos! What awesome hair!' and I went, 'Thanks! My partner gave it to me!' and then got to listen to how smart and cool they thought the idea was."

"You put dye in my hot chocolate and turned my tongue blue in retaliation."

"We're not talking about that right now."

This time you chuckle, and the sound prompts Carlos to kiss the top of your head. "Wanna help me brainstorm ways to turn all of my coworker's tongues blue?"

"Do I get anything out of it?"

"Aside from being the mastermind? Maybe a kiss or two. Depends on how well your plan works."

Shifting your head up, you give him a smile and kiss his jaw. "Deal."

#resident evil #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira/reader #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira/gn reader #carlos oliveira x gn reader

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