#out here openly admitting that you like or even admire her

[igotanidea]

Dress rehearsal: Jason Todd x reader

Summary/request: @ladychibirae and @animegirlfromvietnam decided to not let me function normally requesting Jason being a witness to his fiance triyng on wedding dresses. And then those two just went on, making Jason all flustered, generous and horny at the same time. So - here's that XD

Spicy, but not explicit ;)

****

It was all so … white.

Like a freaking hospital.

And it made him flinch, involuntarily diving back into the stream of bad memories involving injuries, hurt, pain and –

“Look at all those dresses!”

Oh, right, back to reality.

No pain, no fear, just the incoming future.

With Y/N.

His wonderful, beautiful, perfect Y/N.

His future bride. His future wife.

But even the sweetness of her presence and the smile forming on her face couldn’t have bellied the overwhelming feeling of being – well - overwhelmed. He was just supposed to drop off Y/N, Kori and Babs and the boutique and excuse himself under any false pretense he could produce and the rattling and pipsqueak and three girls making a commotion worth six or so people only fueled that resolve.

And then Y/N picked some random dress, putting it to herself and giving him a look, with a silent question what was he thinking and suddenly his plans did a full 180.

Like hell he was going anywhere.

He was going to watch his fiancée change and dress up and give a little show of the whole parade of wedding dresses, enjoying it deeply, though not admitting openly.

“What’s with your face?” Y/N teased, reading right through him. “ thought you were supposed to meet Dick for your boys’ stuff?”

“Really? Was I? Can’t remember. I’d rather stay here. Make sure you don’t get locked up here after hours.”

“Well if that’s your only concern-“

“Y/N, come on, really?” Babs chimed in “He shouldn’t be here, it’s against the tradition for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Well the tradition doesn’t mention anything about seeing each other a few months before the wedding, does it?”

“It’s –“

“Don’t say it.�� Jason cut her off, probably harsher than it was necessary. It was Barbara after all, but he was slowly losing patience. No one was going to keep him away from his girl. Not Barbara, not Kori, no silly beliefs and certainly not some outdated tradition.

“I think you should listen to Barbara.” Obviously Kori had to add her three cents. “Though I find your earthly customs amusing.”

“I’m staying.” Jason repeated sternly

“He’s staying.” Y/N echoed at the same time. “I want him here. Luck or not, he’s my fiancé. The rest can go to hell.”

Barbara and Kori looked at her with a little bit of surprise. This definitely was not the standard behavior of their friend, but clearly Jason brought some dominant instincts in her. If her changing was going to be kept in such pace, the second after the wedding she would turn into a full-blown Red hood’s girl. Maybe even running the streets, shooting and beating the shit out of people alongside him without a care in the world.

Jason though had a look of pure admiration on his face. Of course she wanted him here. Of course the rest could go to hell. If anyone had the right to see her picking a dress, it was him.

Conceitedly and ostentatiously he took a spot on the sofa, leaning back on the soft furniture like he owned the place and almost daring Kori and Babs to oppose his presence.

“Shall we begin then?” Y/N grabbed a dress from the hanger, twirling around in the cloud of lace and satin, disappearing in the changing room.

***

Three dresses later, he had to deal not only with Babs and Kori but also with five more people. Somehow (it might have had something to do with Kori sending group messages of photos of Y/N) the rest of the batkids decided to join the fun.

Therefore, instead of being left alone with the love of his life, Jason found himself squeezed on the couch, between Dick and Stephanie, who just happened to be around. Forced to listen to the sighs of delight and exclamations of Cass and nodding of approval of Tim.

Fucking approval!

That freaking bunch though they could just comment on how his Y/N looked. That they were allowed to watch her spin and twirl and watch herself in the mirror, tilting head in that way, see her smile when she liked something or frown when she did not.

Bastards.

He was the only one allowed here and was hanging on the edge of the seat to just tell them all to piss off and throw them on the street.

He did not.

Mostly because every time she walked out, clad in another white outfit all the mean, harsh words intended at his sibling were stuck in the back of his throat and he was turning into a mewling-inside-little-cat-who-just-wanted-to-be-around-its-owner.

Y/N.

Standing in the middle of the boutique clad in the simple yet elegant wedding dress, accentuating all her curves and making her look like a princess. Literally. All she was missing was some sort of crown on her head, but Jason was going to make sure she would wear one during their entire life together. For she was going to be not only a princess, but his queen.

And he was speechless.

So quiet and unable to say any teasing comment or snarky remark it was slowly becoming suspicious.

“Um… Jace?” her voice reached his ears as if through a fog.

“Huh?” he was immediately thrown out from his reverie. “That’s my name, yeah.”

Everyone looked at him like he just grew a third arm (though in this family this probably wouldn’t be that shocking after all.)

“Are you okay?’ Dick asked with a smirk

“I’m fine!”

“You are quiet.” Stephanie slurped on her slushie, loudly and annoyingly.

“What a bright observation” he mocked.

“Aaaaaand he’s back.”

“Piss off!”

“Y/N asked you a question!”

“I know! I heard!”

“She had to call your names three times before you reacted!”

“Maybe I just like her saying my name!”

“You are blushing!”

“I am not blushing!”

“Enough!”

Y/N finally stepped in, deciding to cut off this family bantering and save Jason, thrown at the mercy of the wolves of his siblings. Of course they used the very rare moment of his sensitivity showing to tease him mercilessly and her poor fiancé did not deserve it.

“Oh, saved by the bell.” Damian smirked “if she will have to step up for you during your whole marriage then- OUCH!”

“I said enough. That includes you, Damian.” Perfectly aimed, though not that strong slap on the head made the youngest of the Wayne shut up. “Everyone out.”

“What?!”

“Y/n!”

“Come on, don’t be like that! You still got some dresses to try on!”

“I said: out. All of you. Now.”

With whines and groans of disappointment everyone moved to the exit.

Everyone, including Jason.

Y/N cleared her throat.

He turned around, looking at her questioningly.

“Not you.”

“No?”

“No. Of course not, you idiot. In case you missed something, you are the only person I wanted here from the start.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be shy with me now. Better tell me how you like this dress.”  She turned towards the mirror, looking at her reflection and playing with the layers of lace on the outfit.

“I think it would look better if-“

“Don’t finish that sentence!”

“You asked for my opinion!”

“Exactly! Opinion! Not your dirty thoughts and sinful desires.”

“Those are very strong words you are using here, sunshine…” he muttered, stepping behind her, wrapping arms on her waist and kissing the back of her neck “but you are not wrong…” one hand slipped to the zipper of her dress.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to buy it either way…”

“What? Why? You look so pretty in it!”

“Got your answer.” She teased, revealing how she played him.

“ha-ha! Very funny princess. Why don’t you want to buy it?” his grip on her hips tightened a little. “Look at us, look how we fit…” his chin rested on her shoulder as they watched themselves in the reflection.

“We do…” her voice was a soft whisper of affection and amusement, eyes flicked with love and hope for the future. “We do…” she snuggled a little further in his embrace, hoping for the love of god that he would not take it as an invitation and get any ideas.”

“Don’t you like the dress?” he asked softly, rubbing her sides affectionately.

“I do. But it’s expensive—”

“Wait. What? That’s your reasoning of let’s-not-buy-it? Really? Here.” He reached into his pocket, handing her his credit card. “Take this one. And that ivory one, I liked how it brought out your eyes. And you can also take something for the wedding reception. And preferably a little something for the wedding night?” he winked.

“I believe we’re in the wrong shop for the last one-“

“Then we’ll go to the right shop.”

“But Jason-“

“Don’t Jason me. Money is not the problem. In fact – keep my card.”

“What?”

“Shut up and take my money.”

“Jason!”

“Hm?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Better get used to it, sunshine. I intend to keep you amused for the rest of our lives.”

“That would indicate you are not planning to leave me at the altar.”

“Leave you? Never. No promises on letting you walk the aisle though. Cause I might just snatch you away from everyone and make sure that pretty dress you are buying ends up on the floor before even exchanging out vows…”

“I’m starting to regret casting your family out. At least you were behaving with them around.”

“But still – you like when I misbehave…”

His hands sneaked under the dress, traveling up her leg, spinning her around so she was now facing him, fingers inching higher and higher on the inside of her thigh-

“Jason…”

“hmmmm…”

“Are you really going to-?”

“I would love nothing more.” He whispered in her ear, getting bolder by a second. Having her in her wedding dress, then and there was doing so many things to him.

“Just so you know, I only got one dress like that! Limited edition! If you ruin it now, there’s no chance for you to wear the same on the wedding day!”

The saleswoman’s voice cut right into their ragged breaths and quickened heartbeats making them jump away from each other immediately.

“Wanna buy this and go home?” he smirked.

‘For what? Dress rehearsal?”

“Mh! You make me fall in love with you all over again.” His smirk grew wider.

It took them literally three minutes to buy the dress and rush home. And for the purposes of that night, there was no need for any clothes shopping.

[unoislazy]

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Mizu x Jealous! Reader

Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.

Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️

————————————————————

You and Mizu have been friends for a while now. Honestly you were surprised you could even say that. Mizu was not someone who would openly accept friendship applications on a daily basis, they usually wouldn’t even talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, despite this, you had gotten past that wall and weaseled your way into becoming her friend.

That was how you viewed it at least, you liked to think that she at least enjoyed your company seeing as she had yet to just up and leave you randomly, which she very well could successfully do if she wanted. You two had learned a lot about each other through late night talks and just general conversations. You of course, had learned about her secret, and you vowed to keep it from anyone else that would cross your path. She in turn had learned a lot about you, things about your past, your likes and dislikes, the usual things that a companion would know.

However, there was one thing she didn’t know about you and you planned to keep it that way. You had been traveling alongside Mizu since you two had crossed paths in a town that she did not intend to stay long in.

Since then you had always admired Mizu for her skills with a sword. That admiration eventually turned to something much stronger.

You would never admit it outloud but you had developed a small crush on the blue eyed woman, and in all honesty it was pretty hard to keep it under control.

Your dynamic had just been you and her for a long time and once Ringo was added to the group it only added to your enjoyment. You loved spending time with them. You honestly found it pretty adorable how Ringo persistently followed the two of you around, just as you had once done to Mizu well before him.

However, once Taigen joined… things changed.

He was never supposed to stay this long, the only reason he did was because Mizu had saved him when escaping that stupid tower. You wanted to go with her, you pleaded with her to take you with her to at least have some back up in case something went wrong but she refused. She wouldn’t give you any other reasoning than, “I need you to stay here.”

No matter how many times you asked why, she would just give you the same answer until you listened. She didn’t want you to go along with her, she wanted to do this alone. And yet when you and Ringo had found her, was she alone?

No… of course not.

He was there with her.

You didn’t recognize him at first of course, you simply thought him to be some random man Mizu thought it was in her best interest to save. In the time you knew Mizu, that didn’t happen often.

You and Ringo had managed to get them both out of the icy water and make your way to the sword fathers house, keeping them both as warm as you possibly could while in such a state.

It wasn’t until Mizu had initially woken up did you finally find out who the man was.

“You’re awake.” You exclaimed, making your way over to a very dreary Mizu who was trying to prop herself up. You smiled, feeling a sudden wave of instant relief as she looked up at you,

“Is Taigen awake.” Were the first words to come out of her mouth.

“Taigen?” You asked, the name felt familiar but you couldn’t tell from where.

“He’s not awake yet.” Ringo answered, he was still very upset with Mizu after their last meeting and that would’ve been clear to anyone just through his tone of voice.

Taigen… Taigen… where have you heard that name?

That’s when you realized, on one of your very late night talks, Mizu had opened up to you a bit about her childhood. In the tale she told, one name continued to pop out.

Taigen.

The kid who was absolutely ruthless to her. All because of the color of her eyes. You remembered just from listening to the story, the anger you felt for Mizu, but even as she was telling the story she didn’t seem quite bothered by it. You supposed she’d have had a lot of time to think about it to the point the memories no longer brought up any emotions.

You looked away from Mizu and turned to the man who was resting quite peacefully not too far away from her. Your astonished gaze turned to a very clearly displeased glare. Never in your life would you think that you wouldn't end up coming across this man, not once, but twice. You had seen the man before, he had shown up a few other times before this, the only reason you hadn’t reacted as harshly was because you didn’t know who he was. You guessed you hadn’t recognized him this time due to the amount of bruising he sustained from his stay at the tower.

Deserved, in your opinion.

Once Mizu had woken up, she of course got right to work just as she usually did. She had no idea what the words ‘take a break’ meant. You helped her out with most of the tasks she tried to perform, but there was one she was insistent on doing alone, again.

So you sat back, preparing whatever medicine Ringo had asked for you to make as he followed around the sword father like there was no tomorrow. You sat in silence, Taigen sleeping not too far away from you, the fire still blaring keeping you both warm.

Why him of all people. Why did he have to be the one she brought back?

There was nothing you could do about him now except for hope that when he wakes up he just gets up and goes on his way.

You rolled your eyes, even thinking about the man made you mad, so you went back to your mundane task. That was until you heard the sound of what you realized to be Taigen stirring as he finally woke up.

“Great, you're awake.” You said sarcastically as you turned towards the man who had rolled over, making sure to make several groaning noises in the process. Sure he was in severe pain but literally everything he did, logical or not, annoyed you.

He didn’t even truly process who you were or why you were there, the first thing he asked was,

“Where’s Mizu?”

Seriously? Why did these two suddenly care about each other so much?

You tried your best to remain as neutral as possible as you very lowly answered, “Outside.”

You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t even want to speak to him in the first place and You sure as hell didn’t want to leave him alone with Mizu. How could anyone trust him? Sure people change, and most of what he did to Mizu was from when they were kids… but your concern still stands. Who knows, maybe he’s still an asshole.

But in the end, it wasn’t your choice on whether he and Mizu got closer. You would protest it, and you‘d protest it hard but when it comes to it, if Mizu for some reason completely unknown to you decided he was good enough to keep around you’d have to be okay with it.

Some time had passed since they had both woken up. Mizu had gone out to try and remake her sword and Taigen had gone off to… well you didn’t really know nor did you care. You had been sitting outside on the snow covered ground, looking up at the night sky, trying to just clear your mind.

You didn’t like feeling so angry all the time, especially over someone who you personally had no reason to truly be angry at. You felt guilty, it wasn’t your place to make such decisions on who was good for Mizu and who wasn’t but you couldn't help it. It felt almost as if it was some kind of instinct, but you couldn’t really place what it was or why you felt it. All you knew was that you hadn’t felt like this before, and it frightened you. You didn’t want to be so pushy or mean to the two just because you didn’t enjoy one person's presence.

You sighed as you continued to stare up at the sky.

“What is wrong with me?” You whispered quietly to yourself.

While you were having your moment of self reflection, you noticed Taigen who had made his way back from the village carrying food. The guilt you felt seemed to double as you looked at him, so you simply looked the other way.

He walked inside the house not even sparing you a glance, he probably didn’t even know you were there. You were sitting in almost complete darkness, the only light being the glow from the fire inside and the moonlight. You enjoyed the isolating feeling it gave, it felt as if time had stopped as you stared at the bright moon above. You were completely lost in thought, zoning out as you stared at the moon. The only thing to snap you out of it was the sound of a large thud, as if something had hit the ground.

You panicked thinking that Taigen had attacked, just as you thought he would. You rushed over to the door of the house but you stopped once you noticed the position the two of them were in. They were so close to each other, and it didn’t seem like they were actually fighting with each other. You hid behind the door frame, not wanting your presence to be known as you thought about what you had just seen.

Does she actually like him? Why are they so close to each other? Is this seriously happening?

All these questions ran through your head as you backed away from the door. So badly did you want to ‘accidentally’ stumble inside and ruin the moment but then you knew you’d feel even more guilty about it. You just tried to let it go and move on with your night.

You tried.

The next day you had become incredibly standoffish. Mainly towards Mizu and Taigen which made it especially noticeable. Anytime Mizu had asked anything of you, you wouldn’t respond like normal, in fact this time you barely responded at all. Usually you seemed so happy to do anything within her company, but now it was as if you were looking right past her.

When Taigen would even attempt to talk to you, you wouldn’t even make a move to acknowledge his existence.

It was extremely petty and you knew that, but you seriously had no other way to deal with your emotions. You were trying your hardest to keep your thoughts down and just be happy for the two that you thought had some kind of chemistry but you weren’t getting far.

Later that night, you walked into the same room as Mizu. she had been sitting down drinking something from her cup, and staring off into the distance deep in thought. Once you had noticed her, you didnt give your normal greeting, you just sat down across from her and paid her no mind.

“What is your problem?” She finally asked. You simply looked at her, your face was as empty of emotion as you could make it.

“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” You lied, trying to not get ahead of yourself. You had so many things that were just so eager to get out, but you didn’t want to share them. You wanted to keep quiet and never mention a single one. If you never mention your problems you don’t have to feel guilty about them, right?

Mizu stared at you, astonished by your persistence with this new attitude.

“Why won't you acknowledge me?” She asked. You averted your gaze by the slightest bit, the guilty feeling coming back.

“I’m acknowledging you right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don't understand your problem here, I’m the exact same.” You lied. You were trying so hard to keep everything under control.

“No you’re not. We both know that.”

“Since when were you an expert on personalities?”

Just because you were trying hard to keep your cool, doesn’t mean you were doing good at it.

“Since I’ve known you for almost a year.”

“You don’t know everything, you know.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Taigen, you seem to go to him for everything anyways.” You didn’t mean to let that slip. If you could take back the words you had just said, you would’ve in an instant. You knew once you had brought up Taigen you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, confused by your attitude towards every single thing she said. You would never act like this normally, so why now? It almost frightened her, it reminded her a bit of how the people in her past would turn on her so suddenly based on some trait about her, so she assumed the worst.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Taigen is the problem!” You shouted, now standing up to make your point clear, which took Mizu by surprise. You had never truly gotten so angry before and especially not at her.

“What did he do? Did he do something to you?” She asked, a whole new level of possibilities jumped forward in her mind. She had let her guard down around Taigen, what if he had made a move on you and she didn’t know.

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about me, I'm worried about you! I mean, what hasn’t he done to you. You’re telling me he was an asshole to you for the entire duration of your childhood that you spent together, and then he suddenly comes waltzing back in claiming he wants to kill you? And then you forgive him? You saved his life sure but now he wants to act all buddy buddy with you? Are you serious? You’re setting yourself up for failure here.” As you went on your ramble, Mizu had begun to relax as she realized the situation. Her eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of her, an amused expression creeping its way onto her face.

“Hey.” Mizu began but you could barely hear her over the sound of your own voice.

“You could’ve picked anyone else to start getting close with and I would’ve been fine with it. I mean I don’t control who you can and cannot be close with, but him? Seriously?” You continued.

“Hey.” Mizu repeated, once again trying to get your attention to no avail.

“I mean, you could do so much better. The guy who bullied you for years on end? Oh please, even I would be a better candidate than him, not that I’m saying I should be, but I could be-”

“Stop talking.” Mizu had raised her voice just enough for you to finally hear her and take the hint. You immediately stopped yourself and looked at her with a shocked expression. You had gotten so lost in your thoughts you almost forgot you were ranting to her in the first place. You watched as Mizu’s stern expression shifted to one of a more… smug nature as she stared at you, her eyes looking at you from just above the rim of her glasses so you could see the color in its entirety.

“Are you… jealous?” Mizu asked, an amused smile very evident on her face as she slightly turned to you. Your head shot towards her direction as you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out.

She was right, you were jealous. Really jealous. You had gotten so lost in your hatred towards Taigen you had forgotten to take a step back and realize how stupid your actions looked.

“I just… don’t think he’s right for you.” You muttered, crossing your arms in defiance as you averted your gaze. You weren’t looking at her but you could tell the woman was just staring at you with a very plain look, a look that probably said something along the lines of ‘are you serious?’

“Not right for me?” She asked, placing her dish down on the ground before looking back up at you. Once she had looked back towards you she had realized you still weren't looking at her, and that wasn’t going to do.

“Look at me.” She demanded. Her tone was not harsh but she was quite stern about it. You did as she said without another question, turning your head to look at her even though you wanted to do anything else but that at the moment.

“What do you mean he’s not right for me?” She asked again, wanting a serious answer out of you.

“I saw the two of you… last night. When you were sparring. I saw how you looked at him and I just. I don’t think he’s a good choice for you.” You admitted. You felt so stupid, couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut and moved on like an adult. Why did you have to be so petty about someone who didn’t even reciprocate your feelings? You were friends, why would you become anything more than that?

She didn’t say anything in response, she simply stared at you as she usually did, but this time her staring made you feel so small. You already felt guilty about feeling this way and now that you had actually said it out loud to Mizu’s face and all she was doing was staring, it made the feeling unbearable. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn't dare to, not now. To risk looking even more childish than you do already? You’d rather die.

“Then who do you think would be a better choice?” She inquired, earning nothing more than a shrug from you. You had said what you needed and you feared if you said anything more you would dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Come on, you don’t have anyone in mind?”

She was teasing you.

She wasn’t mad?

Why was she playing into this, why wasn’t she upset with you placing your own opinions on her feelings.

“I don’t know… literally anyone else?” You responded quietly, not really wanting to answer the question.

“What, like you?” She retorted with a playful scoff.

“I didn’t say that.” You denied, quite defensively one might add.

“Yes you did.” She corrected.

“You heard me wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I heard you wrong.” She repeated, confirming the fact that you were actually trying to play that card.

You nodded.

“So you didn’t say, ‘even I would be a better candidate than him’.”

Well, she got you there, Those were in fact the words you said. You were in too deep to go back now so you committed to your sense of denial full force.

“Where are you getting these words from?” You tried to play dumb, obviously it wasn’t going to work.

“Don’t try to lie to me, I heard you say them.”

“I wasn’t saying that I would be the only candidate, I was just using myself as an example. I’m not saying that you’d have to pick me over him I’m just saying that in the grand scheme of things I just-” You had begun to ramble yet again. You couldn't stop yourself, you felt like everything you wanted to say needed a further explanation to make it not sound as bad as it did. Luckily, this rant was cut very short.

“Hey.” Mizu said, very quickly getting you to shut up unlike the last few times. This time however, she was much closer than she was before. Much, much, closer. You hadn’t noticed that throughout the entire duration of your little banter match, she had slowly made her way towards you and you had absentmindedly been backing away from her. Well, that was until you couldn’t back up any more. Now she was standing no more than a few mere inches away from you, her hands had managed to slither their way onto your waist, holding you in place.

“What…” You whispered. You didn’t know what else to do with yourself, you felt as if you could melt into a puddle right then and there as you stared into her eyes. Her eyes however, had not stayed focused on yours, and instead began to travel around to other areas of your face. You had never really seen this side of her. There would be no reason to really, unless she truly felt the same way.

There wouldn’t be any logic behind Mizu just messing with you to mess with you, she only ever really put up fronts for people she needed information from, and the only information you had was how much you wanted her in that exact moment. You would never say that outloud though.

“Stop talking.” She whispered back, her eyes almost entirely focused on your lips as she very slowly neared you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, moving yourself forward and making the move to seal the kiss yourself.

Words wouldn’t be able to accurately describe how you felt in that moment. Neither of you truly expected it, but the kiss had become a lot more heated way faster than you truly expected. Turns out you both had buried feelings that were going to be known one way or another. Your hands had made their way to Mizu’s hair and her hands had begun to travel away from your waist. Once you had eventually parted from the kiss, you both looked almost surprised that any of that truly happened.

Mizu laughed a bit to herself as she looked at you.

“You know, Jealousy looks good on you.” she said before you rolled your eyes,

“Stop talking.” Was all you said before continuing where you left off.

[cieldecerise]

desert rose - yang jungwon

pairing - idol!jungwon x fem idol!reader

genre - suggestive/nsfw, idol au, secret relationship, forbidden (?) relationship

warnings - mdni! lots of (unspoken) tension, lots of kisses and making out, grinding, implied sex towards the end (not explicitly mentioned), mentions of petnames (baby, angel), hair pulling (not proofread, lmk if i missed any <3)

sypnosis - After a glamorous event, Y/N can’t take her eyes off Jungwon’s new blonde hair. Their secret relationship has been hidden for months, but the tension is undeniable. Back at the hotel, a simple favor—unzipping her dress—sparks a passionate moment that leads Jungwon to her room, where stolen kisses and whispered confessions blur the line between secrecy and desire.

wc - 2.8k

song inspo - lolo zouaï - desert rose

a/n - hi angel, it's cerise! as most engene's might've seen, jungwon is blonde right now and showcased it at an event. he left me completely speechless and drooling, so why not write about it? i must say i've never attempted writing something suggestive, but we've got to start somewhere right? i'll also admit that i wrote this in a rush, i hope you don't mind. either way, enjoy your stay and have fun reading my first post, sweetheart <3

i know i kept mentioning that jungwon's hair is blonde here, but i got impatient since there aren't any pictures of him that have been posted (at the moment), so pretend he's a blonde in the banner for me, will you darling? | bookshelf | paradise

At a recent glamorous event, various idol groups were mingling under the soft glow of chandeliers, everyone dressed to impress. You stood off to the side, sipping on a glass of champagne, but your focus wasn't entirely on the event. It was locked onto Jungwon, who had just debuted his new blonde hair for the first time in public.

Jungwon, looking effortlessly handsome in his sleek suit, had been feeling the weight of your gaze all night. Every time he tried to focus on something else, he'd feel your eyes on him. He dared a glance your way, only to catch you biting your lip slightly, smirking while your eyes roamed over him. His face flushed instantly, the blonde only amplifying his reaction as his cheeks turned a soft pink.

Your smile widened when your eyes met again, this time holding his gaze just a little too long, your expression a mix of admiration and teasing. You didn’t even try to hide it anymore, openly checking him out with a playful glint in your eyes. Every subtle shift in your posture screamed confidence, as if you knew exactly the effect you were having on him.

Jungwon quickly looked away, flustered. He fidgeted with his drink, trying to compose himself but failing miserably. The heat crept up his neck as he replayed your reactions in his head—the way you’d sip your champagne, a slow smile forming as your eyes trailed down from his hair to his suit, admiring every detail.

You finally made her way over to him, standing just close enough for him to notice your perfume, the air between you thick with tension. You tilted your head slightly, your voice low, almost teasing. "I like the blonde... suits you."

Jungwon swallowed hard, trying to think of a cool response but only managed a soft, "Thanks," avoiding your gaze as he tried not to combust under your attention.

You let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying his flustered state. You gave him one last look up and down before walking away, leaving Jungwon standing there, heart racing, as he tried to calm down after the electrifying encounter. He glanced back at your retreating figure, unable to stop himself from smiling despite his nerves.

Later that night, back at the hotel, the event buzz had settled, but the air between you and Jungwon was still thick with unspoken tension. You had been teasing him all evening, and the way you looked tonight didn't make it any easier for him to forget. Your long, fitted dress hugged you in all the right places, and the high slit revealed just enough of your leg to keep his mind racing.

Jungwon tried to calm down on the ride home, but now that you were back, his thoughts kept wandering. He was still reeling from the way your eyes followed him all night, and now, watching you walk through the hotel’s hallway with effortless grace, it was hard to focus on anything else.

You disappeared into your room, and Jungwon let out a soft sigh of relief, only for that relief to be cut short when he heard your voice call out from the doorway.

"Jungwon, can you help me with something?"

He froze for a moment before walking over, trying to keep his composure, checking for any potential unwanted audience. When he stepped inside, you were standing in front of the mirror, your back to him, your hand resting on the small zipper of your dress. The room was dimly lit, the glow from a small lamp casting a soft light on you as you glanced at him in the reflection, an innocent look on your face, but he could sense the teasing beneath it.

"Can you help me unzip my dress?" you asked, her tone smooth, as if you hadn’t been driving him crazy all night.

Jungwon’s heart skipped a beat as he stepped closer. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly as they found the zipper. The cool metal contrasted with the warmth of your skin as he slowly tugged it down, revealing the smooth curve of your back.

His breath hitched, trying to keep his eyes focused on the task at hand. But the scent of your perfume mixed with the intimate moment made it impossible not to feel the electricity between you both.

When the zipper was down, you turned slightly, just enough to face him but still keeping close. "Thank you," you murmured softly, stepping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

But it wasn’t your usual kiss. You lingered there for a moment, lips brushing his skin, the warmth of your breath sending a shiver down his spine. Normally, you might have kissed him on the lips, teasing him, but tonight…this was different. It was softer, more deliberate.

Jungwon’s cheeks flushed, and his heart pounded in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to react—whether to step back, say something, or lean into the moment. Your hand brushed his arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

"You know," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "you look really good as a blonde."

Jungwon chuckled nervously, unsure of what to say, still flustered from the kiss and the intimate proximity. "Th-thanks," he stammered, his voice betraying how affected he was.

You smiled at his response, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Goodnight, Jungwon," you whispered, before turning around, leaving him standing there in the low light, mind spinning from the moment you’d just shared.

Jungwon stood frozen for a second, hand still tingling from where he had touched your dress. He watched you disappear into your room, your words, your touch, and your presence lingering in the air long after you were gone.

Jungwon lay in his bed, tossing and turning, his mind replaying the events of the evening over and over again. He couldn’t shake the feeling of your soft lips brushing against his cheek, the warmth of your body so close to his, or the way you’d looked at him all night. The room felt too quiet, too empty, and no matter how hard he tried, sleep wouldn’t come.

He stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether to just stay in bed or get up. His heart raced at the thought of going to your room, but something about the way you looked at him tonight made it impossible to ignore the pull. After what felt like hours of hesitation, he finally made up his mind.

“Fuck it.. I need her right now..”

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded down the hall to your room. His hand pulled out a key card and hovered it over the lock for a moment before he gently pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit by your bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over everything, and there you were, sitting up in bed, as if waiting for him.

You were wearing a desert rose coloured silk nightdress that shimmered softly in the light. Your hair was swept over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, exposing your delicate collarbone and the smooth line of your neck. You held a book in your lap, but you weren’t really reading it; the soft smile on your lips told him you had been expecting him.

Without even glancing up from your book, you spoke, your voice low and knowing. "Was about time you came, Wonnie. Was worried you wouldn’t show up."

Jungwon froze for a moment in the doorway, your words taking him by surprise. You knew. Of course, you knew. The smile on your face only deepened as you turned the page of your book, still not looking at him, as if you hadn’t just said something that set his heart racing all over again.

"I—" Jungwon started, but his words faltered. He was flustered, unsure of what to say or how to act. The sight of you, so effortlessly beautiful, sitting there in your nightdress, made it hard to focus on anything else.

You finally lifted your gaze from the book, your eyes meeting his with a look that sent a shiver down his spine. "You gonna stand there all night, baby?" you teased, your voice soft, but there was an undeniable playfulness in it.

Jungwon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. His mouth felt dry, and his pulse quickened with each step closer. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but your calmness, your confidence, only made it harder for him to find his footing.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, the exposed skin of your shoulder catching his attention. "You look like you have something on your mind," you said softly, placing the book aside. "Come here, Wonnie."

He swallowed hard, slowly moving to sit at the edge of your bed, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You shifted, turning slightly so you were facing him more directly. The silk of your dress clung to your body, shimmering in the soft light as you leaned closer, your fingers gently brushing against his arm.

"You couldn't sleep, could you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes searched his, and he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin.

Jungwon shook his head, unable to find the right words. His heart raced faster now, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You smiled again, a knowing, gentle smile that somehow made him feel both nervous and comforted at the same time.

"It’s okay," you murmured, your fingers tracing a soft line down his arm before resting on his hand. "You’re here now."

Your touch was light, yet it sent electricity through him. His breath hitched as your hand moved to cup his cheek, you thumb brushing lightly against his skin.

"You don’t have to say anything, Jungwon," you whispered, leaning in just a bit closer. Your lips were dangerously close to his now, and his heart pounded in his chest. "I already know."

Jungwon felt himself leaning in, caught in the gravity of your gaze. The warmth radiating from your body was intoxicating, and he found himself lost in the moment, the world outside your dimly lit room fading away. His heart raced as he closed the distance between you both, the soft scent of your hair enveloping him like a warm blanket.

“Y-Y/N…” he whispered, his voice barely audible as if saying your name any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere.

You smiled, a slow and inviting smile that made his insides twist. “Just be here with me,” you urged softly, your eyes sparkling in the low light. “We don’t have to think about anything else, just you and me..”

With that, you leaned in closer, your forehead brushing against his, and Jungwon felt the warm breath of your lips against his. It was as if time had stopped, the only sound in the room being your breaths mingling together. His heart thundered in his chest, urging him to take the plunge.

But even in his eagerness, a flicker of hesitation lingered. “Fuck, are you sure, angel?” he asked, searching your eyes for any signs of doubt.

You didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Won.” you replied, your voice low and sultry. The sincerity in your gaze was enough to erase the last of his doubts, and with a gentle tug at his shirt’s collar, you pulled him closer. 

The moment your lips finally met, it was electric. The kiss started soft, tentative, both of you savouring the sweetness of it. Jungwon could hardly believe how perfect it felt; the world around you completely vanished, leaving the two of you tangled together in this quiet intimacy. He felt your smile against his lips, the warmth of your body igniting something deep within him.

As you deepened the kiss, he could feel the pressure of your fingers tugging at his hair, your soft sighs encouraging him to explore further. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he lost himself in your warmth. 

“Fuck, that feels good, baby..” he groaned against your lips, feeling an urge to pull you even closer. With a gentle but firm tug, he guided you to straddle his lap, the feeling of your body on top of his grounding him. The shift in position deepened the kiss, igniting a spark that travelled from his lips to every part of his body.

The kiss was intoxicating, filled with everything unspoken between you. Jungwon’s fingers danced along your sides, tracing the curve of your waist, relishing the feel of the silk fabric against his skin. He felt you shiver slightly at his touch, the way your body reacted sending down his spine in response.

“You look so good like this,” you murmured against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. Jungwon’s heart raced at your words, his cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment.

“Thanks,” he replied, his lips finding their way to your neck, and his breath hitching as you tugged on his hair again, pulling him even closer. The sensation caused the heat to rise to his chest, heightening the already electric atmosphere between you. “But I think you look even better.”

Your lips met again, this time with more urgency. As you continued to kiss, the way you melted into him made his heart swell; he wanted to remember this moment forever. He pulled you closer still, your bodies fitting together perfectly, as if you were always meant to be this way.

Jungwon’s hands travelled up your back, resting just beneath your shoulder blades, his fingers drawing small circles on your skin. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he breathed between kisses, his forehead resting against yours as he gazed into your eyes once again, searching for any sign of hesitation. Instead, he only found the same burning desire reflected back at him

You smiled softly, your heart racing at his admission. “I think I might have an idea,” you replied coyly, leaning in for another kiss. This one was deeper, more passionate, as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

The kiss deepened further, and Jungwon couldn’t resist the urge to roll his hips up into you slightly, the movement eliciting a soft gasp from you. He grinned against your lips, feeling emboldened by your response. “Feel that, baby? Guess I’m not the only one who’s been waiting,” he teased, his voice low and playful.

You bit your lip, a flush creeping onto your cheeks as you met his playful gaze. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you to make a move on me tonight,” you confessed, the same playfulness adding to the sweetness of the moment.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I carried a copy of your room’s key card then,” he replied, his voice steady but thick with emotion. Your lips met again, softer this time, but no less intense. The kiss lingered, each of you savouring the quiet, stolen moment. Jungwon’s hand slid down to your thighs, wrapping them tightly around his waist until there was no space left between you. You sighed softly against his lips, your fingers still tangled in his blonde hair, and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you clung to him.

“You ready for me, baby?” he mumbled, trailing his kisses down your neck, his lips burning against your skin, and you tilted your head back, giving him more room to explore. With one last lingering kiss, your eyes met—both unspoken and clear in their desires.

“Always.” you whispered, your voice laced with intoxicating need.

Without another word, he flipped you both around, laying you down as he hovered above you. You sank into the soft sheets together, your bodies entwined in the dim glow of your bedside lamp and the city lights. The air between you felt heavy with anticipation as you shared a final, gentle kiss on the lips. This time, there was no rush, no need for words. You both understood what was coming next, the quiet intimacy drawing you deeper into one another.

As your bodies pressed closer, the space between you seemed to disappear altogether. Every touch, every caress became a wordless promise, and the room was filled with nothing but the soft sounds of your shared breath and whispered names, the dim light casting shadows over your entwined figures. The night stretched on, wrapping you in its warmth, until nothing else mattered but this moment—just you two, together.

© cieldecerise — do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my content. thank you darling.

[floshav]

more rodrick PLSSSSS it can be anything

omg this is my first req ever and im so excited thank you!!

you wanted more Rodrick well here's more Rodrick.

part 2 out now!!

summary: Rodricks your best friend but thats not enough for you. As much as you hate to admit, you like the boy. That's why you show up drunk and high at one of his infamous house parties after he'd ranted to you about how he was so so in love with Heather Hills.

warnings: angst, heartache, kissing, Heather Hills, pining, weed, alcohol, crying, one sided love kinda, self hate

wc: 1k+

"She was so pretty."

"Oh yea?"

"No. I dont think you understand, like the way her hair smelled when she strut past me, the smell of..... smell of something light. Fresh! Pink even."

Rodrick practically had stars in his eyes when he described how his crush was at school. You'd be ecstatic if the crush was you, but the world is cruel so here you were talking about Heather Hills for the last hour or so.

"Y'know... I heard she spat on Louise last week. Poor kid, was dosed in her icky saliva for the whole day." Y/n was selfish but she tried to paint Heather in a bad light.

"Shit i'd pay good money for her to spit on me."

Well that backfired she thought.

"Freak" Y/n lightly laughed as she fell back onto Rodricks soft bed. Chest heaving up and down whilst her mind felt clouded.

"What can I say, love makes anyone a freak."

There was that word again. Love. How could he be bloody in love with little miss Heather Hills. The queen of highschool. The perfect girl. Pretty blondie. Pretty face. Y/n quickly began to realise there were plenty of reasons for Rodrick to crush on her. Y/n was a nobody. She thought her face ugly, her style wack, her eyes too uneven. She hated, hated, hated herself and wished she looked like Heather.

"Oh. My. God. I just had the best fucking idea" Rodrick exclaimed with the dorkiest smile he could produce, each fine line below the thickness of his eyebrows seen under the dim lighting of his room.

"Hmm?" Y/n buzzed as she basked in the coolness of his sheets

"M'gonna throw a party" "Heather would definitely come, i mean its one of my parties we're talking about."

Flashbacks to Rodrick's last party hit y/n's head like a train when she remembered how chaotic and horrible the experience was. Drunk teens shouting and chugging unknown beverages, shoulders brushing against shoulders constantly as she tried to find a room she could breath in without having to see another damn couple absolutely devouring eachother. Each and every minuscule second she'd spent in that house made her want to puke. The sight that made her want to puke the most was Rodrick's clearly drunk self throwing himself onto Heather, eyes sparkly with hope whilst she just sat there smiling so sweetly it was sickening.

Quickly she was sent back to reality.

"D'you think that's a good idea?" she questioned, tired.

"Course it is! she always comes to my things"

"Kay' whatever you think is gonna earn you your little dream girl specimen."

"Trust me, this times different." That's what he always said.

--------------------------------------

It's ok. It's ok. I-It's.... it's gonna be fine. she told herself as she admired the makeup she'd put on for tonight's occasion, she'd tried to copy one of Heathers famous looks, but quickly realised it didn't suit her skin so she stuck to her usual and hated herself for it. It was dreadfully the day of his party. The day that she'd have to witness him openly flirt with Heather just because he had an excuse to down a dozen bottles of cheap booze. She swiped a smear of lipstick that somehow ended up below her lip and sighed as she adjusted her shirt. Why do you always give in? Just confess you idiot. No! what the fuck am i thinking. she scrunched her nose and took a deep breath in, abusing her vanity with the pressure from the pads of her fingers.

She really really didn't want to go. She couldn't bare seeing Heather show up with her annoyingly perfect face, her perfect nose, her perfect hair, her stupidly sweet personality that everyone gaped over. Fuck it. She hated herself and wanted to forget that Rodrick even existed.

She found her not so hidden stash of weed she'd carelessly left under a pile of worksheets from her chemistry class, something ionic bonding. She didn't know how long it'd sat there for but it stained the ziplock bag a dull yellow. The bag was crinkled and smelled like the thought of Rodrick. Whenever she was upset or mad at Rodrick she'd smoke weed to drown the thoughts out but she slowly realised it was ruining the drug as a whole for her.

She rolled a joint in a random piece of paper she'd found thrown on her floor and lit up the end, taking a deep whiff of it, smile playing on her lips.

-----------------------------

"Animals.....Elephants....Tiguurrrsssss!" She slurred as she laid flat on her disheveled bed scrunching the sheets as her eyes formed stars around her ceiling. She got up abruptly, hair a mess and rubbed her eyes deepening the pressure with every second. "Rrrr... What time? Uggggh" She sighed as she reached for her phone. Her room was cloudy and smelled of green. Beside her were a few empty glasses so she took a sniff, curious. Happy juice? No, Vodka she thought. She saw the emptied out bottle of cheap convenience store alcohol by the side of her feet a long with the yellowed bag of weed which was empty. it'd been around 2 hours since she blacked out on her bed somehow thinking about how her fan looked like the shape of animals. Shit, fuck, ass, asshole! she muttered under her breath as she plopped back down.

"Why not? What's thurrr worst that could happennn?" she mumbled eyes fluttering as she picked up her bag and stumbled out her window, careful not to wake anyone. She took the route down the tree that always worked for her but in a clumsy fashion as she fumbled down the hard branches of her overgrown escape buddy. Craaack, Creeeeak. The continuous sounds made her annoyed. "Uggggfh can't everyone just shut up!!"

--------------------------------------

There she was. Standing dumb, drunk and high in front of the booming house lit up by warm yellow light. She could already smell the familiar smell of cheap alcohol, body odour and weed. My kind of night she thought as she barely made her way to the entrance. There were already people outside partying like no tomorrow as some flipped their hair to some overplayed hip hop song that everyone knew. While some were more restricted, sipping on booze as they giggled with their friends. The true highschool experience y/n thought.

Bump.

"Hey! Watch it-"

"Y/n?"

It was someone with beautiful waves of blonde still visible from her clouded vision, pretty makeup and a perfect body. Heather.

"O-Oh hey Heather! Pretty little Heather Hills." Y/n slurred as her vision was still blurred

"Uhm... Y'alright?" She questioned looking back at her friends as if y/n was cuckoo.

"No. No. No. No! Y-you. You. You and your stupidly perfect self can go to hell!" y/n lashed out

"W-what? Y/n what the fuck is wrong with you?" Heather said clearly freaked out by the sudden aggression.

Tears started to cloud y/n's vision so she took in a deeeeep breath trying to suck in as much oxygen as she could.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! You- You're all he wants. Heather, heather, heather! My perfect little heather with her pretty little face!" Y/n cried out as her knees began to weaken. She had no sense of shame, embarrassment or anxiety. She was too blacked out for this. So blacked out she just blurted her deepest darkest thoughts.

A crowd began to form around them, some curious at the sudden shouting girl who was crumbling a part, vulnerable in front of some people she didn't even know the names of.

"W-what? What are you even saying y/n." Heather said confused and disturbed as she began to back away.

Warmth began to spread at the small of y/n's back. Rodricks hand.

"Y/n? Why the fuck are you screaming?- Y/n s-shit you're not alright." Rodrick hastily slung y/n's arm around his shoulder careful with her as if she was a piece of fine china.

"S-sorry bout' that Heaths, trust me she doesn't mean anything she's saying" Rodrick stutters clearly not drunk enough, nervous as he realises that Heather is clearly agitated.

"Y-yea. It's okay Rodrick. It's not your fault, just get her far from here kay?" Heather said with sympathy and those stupid doe eyes whilst placing a hand on his shoulder. This should've made him tremble with pleasure, but the fact that she'd talked about y/n as if she was a monster made him angry.

"Yea. Yea alright." Rodrick scoffed, lightly rolling his eyes before dragging y/n's blacked out figure up his carpeted staircase, the carpet grazing her knees creating a friction which burned satisfyingly on her kneecaps.

"Fuuuck. Fuck..." Y/n softly mumbled, head tilting to the side of his shoulder as he firmed his grip on the side of her shoulder. Shoulders.... shoulders are for friends, real girls get hands put on their waist. Not shoulders. She managed to conjure the thought in her hazed mind.

He struggled to open his door as y/n's body weight pressed into the side of him as he suddenly heard silent weeps of sorrow erupt from her lips.

He set her on the foot of his bed, careful not to drop her anywhere harsh.

"Y/n? Y/n what's wrong, you're like black out drunk." He asked now bending down with both hands on his knees.

He slowly caresses his hand over the hill of her cheekbone and shoves a fly of hair away from her puffy eyes.

"You....i... Im sick of you and- and her." She sighs as a hysterical tear falls from her eye. Her face was the saddest Rodrick had ever seen and this broke his heart.

"Me and... me and who y/n?" He said so softly as he began to crouch so so close to her, his eyes looking up into hers with genuine curiosity and care. The mention of her name fluttered her heart.

"Heather" She breathed out involuntarily sniffling.

"You don't like me talking about her?" He slowly asked as if all the dots were finally clicking together.

"That's a stupid question." He lowly chuckled as he swiped his thumb under the pad of her eyes.

"I.. I really- I really"

"You really what?" He said again so so softly

"I really like you." She blurted before she felt that familiar rush of heat rapture her face.

Rodrick's eyes glance down to her swollen lips and he feels a strong ache pill at his heart. His best friend just confessed about her underlaying fondness of him and he'd been an ass talking about Heather all the time. He imagined how bad it must've sucked all the damn time.

"I-I'm so sorry I- I always talked about her."

"No! don't fucking be sorry you idiotttt." She slurred

"You- You don't owe me anything." She smiled softly as she fluffed up his hair.

"Maybe..." This is wrong he thought

"Maybe i do owe you an apology." He said slow and steady as he glanced down to her lips and locked with it for the final time.

He slowly moved in to plant a soft kiss on her puffy lips and her eyes widened in surprise.

The kiss felt like heaven and she tasted like everything he was used to. A hint of cherry chapstick, a lot of weed and something coconut. His lips felt so soft against hers and she breathed in every second of the experience. She almost wanted to whine when he pulled away.

"I- Fuck."

Y/n's euphoric high was quickly ruined at the notice of him clearly regretting his decision.

"No- It's fine Rodrick. I get it, it was just a in the moment thing." She sighed as she put both her hands to her face rubbing her cheeks and eyes as if she was trying to rid off the pain in her heart.

"No, no, no! it's not that."

"I just..."

"Fuck it." He went in for another kiss.

--------------------------(end)

thank u for the request!! i hope this was enough to satisfy ur rodrick need lol, if u ever want a smutty end to this lmk but yarrrrr

[zoandreez]

just for you ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: ao'nung x metkayina!reader

summary: ao'nung had always been the snarky one, closed off and immature to anyone who crossed his path. and of course, he was never like this with you. but why?

word count: 1.7k exactly

warning: fluff

a/n: ao'nung lowk a bitch but its ok cus hes my little cutie

you and tsireya had known each other since you were little, your families being incredibly close. the two of you made amazing memories when you were little.

you would run along the beach with the tide came in, picking up shells that would wash up and assort them into necklaces and bracelets for friends and family. you would race to the water to see who could hold their breath longer, but you would always let tsireya win so you could secretly take some of her shell stash.

however, you were seemingly only this openly social with tsireya, as when anyone else came around you were completely silent. your mother and ronal were aware of this, and to attempt to ease your social anxiety, would drag ao'nung along with your adventures.

and of course, as any "too-cool-for-his-younger-sister-and-her-annoying-friends" older brother would be, he was averse to this idea completely. not like he had a choice.

so here he was, dragging his feet along as you and tsireya ran out to the shore once again.

he would complain and groan about how him and roxto could be hunting, even though he was nine (what is he hunting at nine?? nothing. he's just a little penisface.) he would sigh and roll his eyes when tsireya begged him to get in the water with the two of you, but reluctantly did anyways.

he would scoff when the two of you would whisper and giggle to each other, and chase you in the water when you and tsireya suprise ambushed him.

and of course, he would never admit it, but he was starting to enjoy his adventures with you two. and you were too. you would catch him putting together the seashells you three would gather, but he would deny it and throw them somewhere.

eventually, you began to be just as social as tsireya was. and even though tonowari wasn't too open to the idea of ao'nung, a (in his opinion) horrible impression, around the anti-social caterpillar you were, it actually proved him wrong. the two of you developed a quick crush on each other, both oblivious to it.

as the three of you (and eventually roxto) got older, your anti-social and polite qualities seemed to blend with ao'nungs loud and crude attitude he held so highly. however, you had never seen it. it was like he was calmer around you. and you hadn't even noticed. somehow, it never crossed your mind when his friends were teasing you and ao'nung quickly put them in their place, and your cheeks flushed with admiration. when he would walk you to your marui at night after late night swims and relaxing on the beach, even when you napped together in the forest behind the pods to sleep with the stars, it not once occured to you that he genuinely cared for you.

not even when you heard other metkayina talking about ao'nungs behavioral improvement since when he was a kid, going from cocky and dense, to a bit more opening and well-tempered, ever since he met you.

it had only once crossed your mind. the sully family had arrived, and the crowd shifted as you and ao'nung made your way through. roxto was already here, and immediately the two started poking fun. tsireya was just arriving as you yanked at his tail, making him stumble back a bit. "leave them alone," you said under your breath as the two sully boys looked in your direction.

something had clicked in your mind after that. instead of the common snarky comment he would say to anyone else who would check him, he fell silent, furrowing his eyebrows at the sullys. his cheeks were a slightly darker shade. it was different. his silence was louder than the ikran screeching, or the metikayan whispering, because it was new.

he wasn't fond of your direct affection to the sully's. and he wasn't exactly favoring how you treated the eldest.

neteyam.

you would look at him the same way tsireya looked at lo'ak, eyes full of wonder. and he could tell he was looking at you the same way, everytime his cheeks flushed or you giggled at something he said.

you would stay late on the beach side, teaching neteyam the sign language of the metkayina, and everytime the lesson that was "just a lesson" went too long, he would walk onto the beach and call you over.

"tsireya needs you." it was a new excuse every time.

"your mom said its time for dinner."

"neteyam, your three-fingered sister was calling for you." (you scolded him for this comment. "you shouldn't refer to his siblings as if they have three or four fingers, ao.")

if you would help him focus on his breathing or his ilu riding a bit too close for his liking, ao'nung would glare in neteyams direction, or sling an arm around you before saying something rude about their tails, or their eyes, or their arms. as much as you appreciated his touch, you would hiss and smack the hand dangling off your shoulder. "be nice, ao." he would look at you before scoffing, and staring at neteyam once more before getting off you.

one day, you were sitting underwater with kiri and tsireya, working on her breathing and signing, when she signed something that caught your eye.

"hey, how come ao'nung is only calm with you?"

tsireya quickly turned to you and signed an "i told you!"

tsireya was always able to tell when something was off with ao'nung. whenever you were near him, his hard gaze would soften slightly, his shit-eating grin turning to more of an actual smile. whenever you scolded him, he wouldn't take it as a joke, and would genuinely see it as being lectured by his mother. there was a sparkle of frustration in his eye whenever he did something wrong around you, and yet you never saw it.

so when ao'nung had came to tsireya and confessed his feelings for you, she thought nothing different but to mock him with a series of "oooos," before finally helping him.

she gave him a series of tips, which he was not able to keep up with. he would try his best though, because his one goal was to keep you happy, and he wouldn't his attitude, "invisible" jealousy, or that freak sully boy (doesn't sound like invisible jealousy to me) get in the way of that.

walking to your marui one day, you saw ao'nung sitting inside, tracing things into the floor of the pod with your dagger.

"ao?" you said, walking up to him.

"oh, hey." he said, a faint smile on his face. "got you something." he said, holding up a necklace. the shells were small, and familiar. suddenly, it clicked in your head.

"no way! are these the shells from when we were little?"

"mhm. took me forever to find, so be greatful-" he said before you pulled him into a hug.

"thanks, ao." you said, smiling into his chest. he was glad you weren't directly looking at him to see his flushed cheeks, because he would never live that down. he held you for a moment, before replying.

"no problem. nothing that skinny sully boy could do anyways," he mumbled.

"ao'nung, we need to talk about that." he looked at you, eyes widened a little. you never call him ao'nung, unless its something serious. he thought for a moment, before cursing under his breath.

("you shouldn't let neteyam get under your skin, she's just teaching him," tsireya said many times, and yet he still couldn't stand him.)

"fine."

"what is up with you and neteyam? me and tsireya have been nothing but nice to the sullys, but you just shut it down every time."

"i just don't get great energy from him."

"you don't get great energy from anyone!" you protested.

"i see how he looks at you." he said, leaning in, a bit angered.

"and everyone sees how you look at me." you blurted out, not even realizing the words that left your mouth until they already had. this stunned both you and ao'nung.

"what are you talking about?"

the thing is, you had no clue what you were talking about. you were just talking, frustrated with how ao'nung was reverting back to his previous ways as the sully family came to stay.

you were going off of what you heard from the clan, tsireya, and kiri. that counts as everybody. how they saw him look at you with hearts in his eyes. they saw the shame filling his body like a waterfall whenever you looked at him after he got into another fight with lo'ak.

"the way you look at me like you would drop everything for me, like i have you wrapped around my finger." you said.

"because you do," ao'nung said.

you said nothing as you comprehended the words that just left his mouth. you looked him in his pale blue eyes as he attempted to keep his composure from what he had just said. he was going to be olo'eyktan. why was he so embarrassed confessing his feelings to a simple girl?

"what are you saying?"

then it hit him. it was because you weren't simple. you were special. the way your fangs glimmered in the light everytime you smiled at him when he would crack a non-rude joke for once. your eyes sparkling just like the sea, squinting everytime you were frustrated with something new. the way your eyes relieved themselves when he would join in to help you, everything about you was special to him.

"i like you, what do you mean 'what are you saying?'" he mocked you, earning a playful smack on his knee.

"you just love to mock me."

"and i would just love to do this," he said, leaning in. your faces were inches from each other, as he hovered over you slightly. his fingers were grazing your chin as he looked you in your eyes, your soul, before looking down at your lips.

"can i kiss you?" he whispered.

you said nothing for a moment, before nodding as he cupped your chin and pulled you into a long anticipated kiss.

a/n: ew people kissing gross

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Soft Hands

type: fluff, drabble warning(s): none, maybe mentions of scars word count: 533 request: @elsie-bells The reader always has hand cream on her and loves to do her nails, so it's not uncommon for her to randomly grab Az's hands and softly massage cream into them, or file his nails. and he just melts! 

- all rights reserved -

A sheepish smile spreads over Azriel’s face, his gaze trained on you, on how your hands hold his bigger one. Your hands are already moisturised and now you are massaging the aloe vera scented cream into his hands.

Azriel’s marred skin feels rough on yours, just like his calluses and it tells you that it was high time for you to finally take care of his hands again. Azriel would never openly ask you for it, or even admit it that he would want it now, so you always have to take matters into your own hands — quite literally. Oh, but does Azriel love these moments. He almost moans, letting you work your magic. You take care of each on of his fingers, softly massaging his marred skin. There is music playing in the background, some classical music recorded from an orchestra from the Rainbow. You put up some candles and dimmed the light in the room before you put on a face mask. Azriel didn’t want to wear one, he just wanted you to take care of his hands. 

“We are also doing your nails later on,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. Azriel raises a brow, slight amusement etched into his features. “We are?”

“Yes!” you express happily, and move on to his other hand after having scooped up some more cream. Azriel has his biggest scar on his left hand, it stretches across the whole back of his hand, up to his wrist. Through the dry winter air, the edges lift a little and from how often Azriel is rubbing his hand, and scratching it you know it burdens him. You put an extra amount of cream there, your thumbs carefully and ever so slightly working it in. “I remember when you told me about how you got the scars.” “It was at the House of Wind.” You smile at the memory — it is a sad smile though. “Yes, it was. We had been dating for two weeks I think and I was so proud of you for opening up, but at the same time I felt so violent about them having done this to you.”

Azriel smiles a little and closes his eyes. “My wonderful mate.”

“I still feel violent.” You bring his left hand to your mouth and kiss his knuckles. “But let’s not talk about that now, I just want good feelings tonight.” Azriel agrees and then also agrees to letting you file his nails. You do it gently and carefully, tending to each of his finger nails. Azriel smiles constantly, watching your concentrated and focused expression and falls even more in love with you in this very moment. You accept him the way he is, accept his body the way it is. You never cared about his scars, you were curious, of course, he cannot blame you for that, but it was never uncomfortable. You love him the way he is, and he loves you the way you are. And now, he loves you — if that is even possible— just a bit more, silently regarding you while you do your work, his eyes glowing with admiration and his chest warming with love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @banasheefan56 @courtofjurdan

[tmwcs]

hey reinaa this req is def something 🫣🫣

so like heethan and reader like live together and reader isnt feeling well, and she slept in like a skimpy nightdress so her tits and ass are out (idek how to start it) anyways heethans cooking her breakfast like eggs or something and cvms in it 😭😭 then hes like feeding it to her while stroking her head n shit and asking her if she likes it, and shes like yes (obviously) and is completely oblivious to it then smut or whatever

thank uu if u do this

”Tell me…how does it taste?”

warnings: so if you read the prompt…yeah, consumption of bodily fluids in not such a traditional manner lol. But it’s quite juicy. Implications of rough smut, smut described in subtle detail, unprotected sex (implied) and yeah…think that’s it. ;)

Stretching out the aches from last night’s session, the opening between your thighs sting with a sense of looseness throbbing mercilessly. A reminder of what your beloved fiancé had put you through, all for the sake of pleasure, pain, and love. Hard love. 

…………….

“Look at me. I said look…”

“Mmmmm…..nnnnngh!”

“That’s right…shhh….take it like I showed you…like how I trained you to.”

“Mmmm….mmmmph!!”

“Watch me…watch me….fuck….going deeper….”

……………

The vague images of Heeseung and Ethan swapping out, taking turns as they stuck their thumb in your mouth, while the remainder of their digits hooked your chin as they forced you to look their way, were all like still images in a memory drive. Heeseung pulled, thrusted, and swallowed your moans with his kisses while Ethan pushed, pumped, and slurped the drool from your mouth. You squabble aimlessly, putting forth whatever strength you had to get just the tiniest bit of distance, all to ease up the tension of his throbbing cock as he made himself fit; filling you entirely. 

You wondered for a moment, as your warm feet touch the flooring—cooled by the brisk morning temperature of near freezing, would it even be possible for you to be considered an exceptional candidate for a partner and wife, if something has happened to Heeseung and he was no longer around? Not that that wouldn’t happen, you knew that your thoughts were strictly hypothetical, yet it was a valid thought. Because the man had taken you so many times since the beginning, and has delightfully feasted and punctured your flesh, to the point that despite never experiencing pregnancy or childbirth, not yet, you wondered if your womanhood was beyond dignified. Heeseung was a stallion of all sorts, his momentum, size, and pace was unmatchable, and there was no way that any man wouldn’t be able to tell that you had been ravished. Good thing that Heeseung, and Ethan, has both claimed you for life—and that no matter how many times you both engage in the heat of sexual passion, they remarked how it always felt as good as the first time, why wouldn't they? With all that length and girth, they barely fit and required you to be extra moist in order for them to punch it in. This all further convinced you tha if ever you were without them, surely you’d be doomed to remain single forever. 

Heeseung wasn’t in bed, you sat over the edge, taking your time to adjust your body and to get ready. Still nude, you figured you should start the day off with a warm shower, but suddenly, the door opens, and there he was. 

“Hey, good morning pretty. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. You?” You chuckle, when he was rough and hard with his love, he was intense and passionate, sexy and dominating. Yet when he was calm and all honey, he was sweet and the love was a different type than the one he eludes at night. It was a soft, delicate love, one that was admiring and caring. 

“Good. I made you breakfast.”

You looked at him somewhat wide eyed, Heeseung, much less his Ethan side, never dabbled into the art of cuisine creation. They admitted openly and yet, here they were, with Heeseung’s dashing smirk and Ethan’s dark gaze, they split the shred body 50/50 as they presented you a plate of messily scrambled eggs, semi-burnt toast—with jelly sloppily drooling over the edge of the crust, and a small glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, with pulp staining the rim of the glass. You smiled, even though the plate had a humorous display, you knew he did his best. 

“Oh my gosh, you cooked for me?” You smiled gleefully as you looked up, to which the man before you nodded in silence and even had a faint of bashful sense in his countenance. “I tried.” He calmly states, clearing his throat as his deep voice spoke modestly in response to your grateful reaction. 

“Baaaaabe, thank you! I’m going to eat ever last bite.”

“I hoped you would.” His words were sharp, deep, and somewhat quiet as he pressed out the response under a breath. You didn’t catch it. 

“What was that babe?” 

“Oh nothing. Just talking to myself. Let me know how it tastes.”

You took a bite of the eggs, and tossed the fluffed texture around as you savored the taste. “You seasoned the eggs?” You chuckled as you rolled your tongue, taking in the semi-pungent saltiness as you swallowed. He smiles as his eyes widen with an expressive sense of delight. 

“I did, do you like it?”

“I do.” You nodded politely. It was a bit saltier than what you preferred but it was the first time the man has ever stepped foot in the kitchen to cook, you weren’t going to discourage him, besides…a little salt does good for the body. 

He takes a seat next to you, takes the fork from you hands and places his free palm on the back of your head. Initially you looked at him curiously, but the moment you witnessed him sternly looking at the plate, forking a cluster of eggs, and bringing it to your face, you smiled adorably as you opened to take in the bite. He smirks and chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek as he continues to feed you every last morsel. “Does my baby like it?”

You nod. “Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.”

…………….

Earlier…

He woke up before the sun has a chance to kiss the moon to sleep. Prior to getting out of bed, he looks down and admires his sleeping beauty. “Damn she’s pretty…” he whispers to himself. How lucky is he to have you? Well, the truth was, he wasn’t lucky, just smart. Smart enough to know that he had to get you, from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, and he planned, lied, and deceived in order to accomplish his goal….he got you. 

His member begins to harden at the sight of you, and as much as he was tempted to get at you again, he knew that after last night, he has to give you some time to catch up on your rest. You’re such a trooper, always taking him and his Ethan side without complaint, pleasing them as you took one after the other, allowing them to take turns as they pumped you up with every bit of juice they had to give. Yes, you’re such a good girl. A good, and pretty little girl. 

Always the one to show his dying love for you, Heeseung heads into the kitchen. He didn’t know what item from which in order to cook, thank goodness for YouTube. 

With the toaster ticking, and the eggs sizzling in butter, he plays around the yolk and whites, zoning out as the image of your face from last night makes him grow. You always looked so helpless, whenever he’s fucking you, and God….does he love it. 

With his thoughts triggered, an idea pops in mind. You were his…you belong to him. Even if you had wanted to leave, he knew that that was not how you truly felt, you both are in love and he claimed you the moment he laid eyes on you. You will always be under his thumb, his beautiful flower, his delicate princess…only his. 

Since he’s claimed you in more ways than one, why not expand it and introduce another manner in ‘claiming’ you? 

Grabbing onto the base, with the image of your teary face bumping up and down as he thrusted into you repeatedly the night prior, he strokes his member. God…he was so close to shutting everything off, rushing up the stairs so he could fuck you in your sleep. He was tempted, but he maintained some sense of control as he continued to stroke and thrust his palm, going faster and faster as he groans until finally… 

“Fuuuuuuuck…!” He whispers under a harsh breath, chest deeply heaving as his nostrils flare. He leans over, palm gripping the edge of the counter as he catches his breath, gasping for air. Decorating the eggs, he unleashes every last bit of what he could draft up since last night, and felt satisfied at the result. Stirring the eggs, he turns off the stove and slides it all on a plate. Adding the other ingredients, he organizes the breakfast tray and brings it up. He’ll be so happy to see you take him in, in a way that you’re not used to taking him, but it’s just as good. Besides…

“You know pretty baby, a little salt does good for the body.”

Perm Taglist:

@enheene , aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata

[realityjoey]

MAGNETS (RILEY ANDERSON MC x EVAN BUCKLEY)

As the day went on, Riley’s unexpected clinginess didn’t wane. In fact, it seemed to intensify.

During their routine checks of the fire trucks, she kept finding ways to be close to Buck. She’d linger by his side, her shoulder brushing against his, or reach out to straighten the collar of his uniform unnecessarily. Buck couldn’t stop smiling, half wondering if this was some kind of dream. Usually, he was the one inventing excuses to stay close to her—now the roles had reversed, and he was loving it more than he could’ve imagined.

Hen, Chimney, and Eddie were having a field day with it, though.

As they worked, Chimney leaned over to Eddie and muttered, “How long before Buck combusts? I give it till dinner. That boy’s been walking around with that lovesick grin all day.”

Eddie chuckled, glancing over at Buck, who was standing next to Riley while she inspected a hose, her hand absentmindedly on his lower back. “I don’t know, man. I think he’s in heaven right now.”

Buck caught their looks and shot them a mock glare. “What? I can’t spend time with my girlfriend without you two acting like children?”

“Hey, we’re just amazed you haven’t melted into a puddle yet,” Hen teased, walking by with a smirk. “Usually, it’s you hanging all over her, and now you look like you won the lottery.”

“I did win the lottery,” Buck shot back, a playful grin on his face, before turning back to Riley with that soft, almost disbelieving look in his eyes. He couldn’t help it. This whole day felt like a sweet shift in their dynamic, and while it threw him off balance, it also warmed him from the inside out.

Later in the afternoon, when the station had quieted down a bit, Riley and Buck found themselves on the couch in the rec room. Riley leaned against him, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his arm. The room was empty for the moment, giving them a rare slice of privacy.

Buck glanced down at her, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re sure you’re okay? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but you’ve been extra…”

“Clingy?” Riley finished for him, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She shifted slightly so she could meet his eyes. “Yeah. I guess so. I don’t know, I just… feel like I need you close today.”

Buck’s expression softened even more, and his hand found hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll never complain about that. I like this side of you.”

Riley chuckled softly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re usually the one who can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Hey, can you blame me?” Buck teased, but there was a serious note beneath his words. “I love you, Riley. I love that you’re letting me see this side of you today.”

She looked up at him, and for a moment, the air between them was heavier, filled with a quiet understanding. Buck knew Riley wasn’t the type to openly wear her heart on her sleeve, especially around the team. She was the calm and composed one, the rock that he leaned on. But today, seeing her let her guard down like this—it made him fall for her all over again.

Riley sighed softly, resting her head back on his shoulder. “You’ve always been good at showing how you feel. I admire that about you, you know?” she admitted quietly. “I’m not as good at it. But today… I just didn’t want to hide it.”

Buck kissed the top of her head, a warm sense of contentment filling him. “You never have to hide with me. I’m always here, no matter what.”

For a while, they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading into the background. Buck’s fingers traced gentle circles on her arm, while Riley’s hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Then the alarm rang, piercing the quiet moment with its shrill tone.

Riley pulled away reluctantly, a hint of reluctance in her eyes as they both stood up and rushed to grab their gear. The usual adrenaline of an emergency situation took over, pushing aside the softness of their moment, but the connection between them remained.

As they suited up, Hen shot Buck a quick look. “Alright, lovebirds, save it for later. We’ve got work to do.”

Buck gave her a half-smile, adjusting his helmet. “Don’t worry, Hen. I’m all business.”

Riley, already slipping into her focused mode, gave him a quick, reassuring glance before they piled into the truck, the sound of sirens soon filling the air. Despite the chaos of the job, the closeness from earlier lingered in Buck’s mind, a reminder of just how deeply they were connected.

The call ended up being a fairly routine situation—nothing the team couldn’t handle quickly. A minor fire in an apartment complex had been extinguished before they even arrived, and they spent most of the time ensuring everyone was safe and the scene was secure. As the team wrapped up, Buck found himself by Riley’s side again, watching as she helped a resident gather some personal belongings from their scorched apartment.

When she looked up and caught him staring, she shot him a small, knowing smile. “What?” she asked, amusement lacing her tone.

“Nothing,” Buck said, shaking his head, though the grin on his face told a different story. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

“Cheesy,” Riley teased, but there was a softness in her eyes that matched his, her fingers brushing his for a brief second before they both turned back to the task at hand.

Later that evening, back at the station, things finally quieted down. Riley and Buck found themselves alone in the kitchen as the rest of the team busied themselves elsewhere. The day had slowed down, and Riley’s earlier clinginess had settled into something more familiar—a quiet, comfortable closeness between them.

Buck leaned against the counter, watching her as she prepared some tea. “So, you’re done being all over me for the day?” he asked with a teasing grin.

Riley glanced over her shoulder, her lips twitching into a smile. “Don’t get used to it. Tomorrow, you’re back to being the clingy one.”

Buck chuckled, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’m okay with that. But today was nice. I liked being the one you needed.”

Riley leaned into him, her voice soft. “You’re always the one I need, Buck. I just don’t always say it out loud.”

Buck’s heart swelled at her words, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I know. And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

For a long moment, they stood there in the kitchen, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading into the background once again. It wasn’t about the grand gestures or the big moments; it was about the quiet, everyday ways they showed up for each other.

And today, Buck realized just how much he loved the days when Riley let her guard down, allowing herself to be vulnerable with him. It made everything between them feel even more real, more grounded.

As they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the station, Buck knew that no matter what the day threw at them, as long as they had each other, they’d always come out stronger.

The following day, Buck was a man on a mission.

From the moment Riley woke up, she could feel the shift. It wasn’t unusual for Buck to be affectionate—far from it—but today was something else entirely. The second she opened her eyes, Buck’s arms were already around her, pulling her close, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, yet there was a playful tone underneath it.

Riley smiled softly, stretching out beneath him. “Morning, Buck. Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” he responded immediately, pressing a kiss to her neck before pulling her even tighter against his chest. “I just missed you.”

Riley raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the clock. “Buck, we were literally sleeping next to each other.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, grinning against her skin, “I still missed you.”

Riley laughed, trying to roll away from him so she could get out of bed, but Buck was having none of it. His arms tightened around her waist, refusing to let her go. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, voice mock-serious.

“Getting ready for work, obviously,” Riley teased, but her words were cut off as Buck peppered kisses along her jaw, making it impossible for her to resist laughing.

“Come on, just a few more minutes,” Buck mumbled, clearly not ready to let the morning intimacy fade.

Eventually, Riley managed to escape his grasp, though Buck stayed close the entire time. As she showered, he leaned against the doorframe, chatting and making playful comments. When she was making coffee, his hands found her waist, tugging her into him every chance he got.

By the time they arrived at the station, Riley had already realized today was going to be one of those days. The ones where Buck could barely keep his hands off her—only now it was 120% more intense than usual.

They barely made it through the door before Chimney and Hen spotted them. “Oh boy, here we go again,” Hen muttered, noticing how Buck had his arm draped around Riley’s shoulders, keeping her close.

Eddie, clearly picking up on the energy, smirked. “Looks like we’re in for a clingy Buck kind of day.”

Riley shot the team an exasperated but amused look as she tried to make her way toward the kitchen, only for Buck to catch her by the wrist and pull her back into his arms. “You’re not going anywhere without me today,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

Chimney let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “How do you put up with him?”

Riley chuckled, leaning into Buck’s hold. “I ask myself that every day.”

Hen gave them both a playful look. “Yesterday was your turn, huh? So today it’s Buck’s?”

Buck grinned proudly, as if Hen had just validated his behavior. “Exactly! I let her have all the space she wanted yesterday. Now it’s my turn.”

Riley rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. “You did not give me space. I couldn’t even breathe without you hovering.”

“Yeah, but you loved it,” Buck teased, his hands slipping down to rest on her hips as he swayed with her slightly in place, completely ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of the station.

Eddie, who had been watching the entire exchange with an amused smirk, finally chimed in. “You know we have actual work to do today, right, Buck?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck waved him off, though he still didn’t let go of Riley. “Work can wait a minute. Haven’t had my full dose of Riley yet.”

Chimney raised an eyebrow. “Is there ever a time when you’ve had your full dose of Riley?”

“Never,” Buck answered confidently, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “And I never will.”

Riley, who was used to Buck’s clinginess but still a little surprised by today’s level of intensity, sighed and looked up at him. “You’re gonna get sick of me eventually, you know.”

“Not possible,” Buck shot back without missing a beat.

The rest of the team was clearly enjoying the show. Chimney pretended to gag, Hen muttered something under her breath about getting a room, and Eddie just shook his head, grinning. But Buck was completely unbothered. His entire focus was on Riley, and nothing was going to change that today.

Even during their drills, Buck found ways to stay close to her. While she was suiting up, he’d “help” by adjusting her helmet even though it was perfectly fine. When they were working together on equipment checks, his fingers would brush hers every chance he got. Riley was trying to keep a straight face, but by midday, it was clear that Buck wasn’t letting up.

The teasing from the rest of the team intensified as the day went on.

During lunch, Buck sat closer than usual, his hand on Riley’s thigh under the table. Eddie, noticing the scene, leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement. “So… are we just gonna pretend this is normal now?”

Chimney pointed his fork in their direction. “Hey, if this is the price we pay for not having to deal with Clingy Riley, I’ll take it.”

“Hey!” Riley shot back, though her laughter was evident in her tone. “You were all just confused yesterday. Now it’s Buck’s turn.”

“Yeah, except this is way worse,” Hen teased. “He’s practically glued to you.”

Buck, still unbothered, smirked as he leaned closer to Riley. “And you’re all jealous. Admit it.”

Eddie snorted. “Jealous of what? Being stuck with you all day?”

“Exactly,” Buck said with a grin, before pulling Riley in for a quick kiss, much to the exaggerated groans of the rest of the team.

By the time the day ended, Riley was exhausted—not from the job, but from having Buck constantly within arm’s reach. As they finally settled back at home, she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You do know you don’t have to make up for yesterday, right? I get it—you’re obsessed with me.”

Buck chuckled, pulling her into his lap on the couch. “I’m not making up for anything. I just like being around you. Yesterday was nice, seeing you all affectionate and soft. Made me want to return the favor.”

Riley sighed but smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You don’t need a reason to be like this, Buck. I already know you can’t get enough of me.”

Buck smirked. “Damn right.”

As they settled into the quiet of their evening, Riley leaned against him, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up. And while Buck might have been 120% clingier than usual, she couldn’t deny that there was a certain comfort in knowing he’d always be this close—whether she was having a clingy day or not.

“I guess I can put up with it,” Riley murmured as she closed her eyes, letting herself relax against him.

Buck grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Lucky me.”

[muiitoloko]

Hi! I've been devouring your alan fics so much! They're so so so good! Do you do requests? If so I'm kinda craving for some platonic love 🫶. Is it alright to have an Eli x daughter reader? I don't have a specific plot in mind. I just want some fluff but to make it better add some angst.

But if you don't do requests, it's fine. Just ignore this lol. Just really love how you write!!

Title: Become a great artist.

Summary: He wanted you to become a great artist, so you did. But Eli realizes that you have always been a great artist.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, Angst! Neglectful father, criticism, mention of rape, kidnapping, suicide, death.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reaching out and enjoying my stories. I have to admit, I got a bit carried away with this one. What started as an attempt to create something cute took an unexpected turn into anguish, and I found myself writing through tears. If this isn't what you were hoping for and you prefer something cute, just let me know, and I promise I'll whip up something adorable for you.

First, Second, Third and Fourth part here.

As the birthday celebration for your father, Eli, continued, you couldn't wait to unveil the gift you had painstakingly crafted for him. The table was already adorned with a collection of thoughtful presents, but yours was the final touch to the evening.

With a hopeful smile, you presented the oil painting you had spent countless hours creating. The canvas depicted a striking likeness of your father, Eli, capturing his essence in vibrant colors and intricate details.

But as Eli glanced at the painting, his expression remained unchanged, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at him expectantly, hoping for a more heartfelt reaction.

However, your mother, Sarah, sitting beside Eli, immediately took the painting into her hands, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "Oh, darling, this is absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're so talented!"

Your brother, Barkley, chimed in with his own praise, echoing your mother's sentiments. But despite their encouraging words, you couldn't shake the feeling of deflation at Eli's lackluster response.

As the dinner progressed, Eli seemed content to focus on his meal and his glass of wine, his attention drifting away from the festivities. You tried to console yourself with the thought that your father was simply not one to show emotions openly, but it still stung to see him so disinterested in your gift.

As Sarah noticed your hopeful expression towards Eli, she intervened with a comment meant to uplift your spirits. "You know, darling," she said, her voice warm and encouraging, "you have such a talent for art. You could be a great artist, like Van Gogh."

But Eli's response was not what you had expected. He scoffed dismissively, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Van Gogh? Please. The man cut off his own ear and ended up killing himself," he remarked, his words laced with derision. "Unless you're planning on following in his footsteps, I highly doubt you'll ever become a great artist. You know, the painter has to die for his works to become famous; that's how I see it, at least."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his cutting remark, your heart sinking at the realization that your father saw little value in your passion and talents. Hanging your head in disappointment, you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sarah shot Eli a reproachful glance, her eyes flashing with indignation at his insensitive remark. "Eli, that's enough," she scolded, her voice firm and resolute. "There's no need to be so cruel."

But Eli remained indifferent to his wife's reproach, his attention already drifting back to his meal. Ignoring Sarah's scolding, he continued to sip his wine, his disinterest in your feelings painfully evident.

Forced to put on a brave face, you mustered a weak smile and nodded in response to your mom's apology. "It's okay, Mom," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

But inside, your heart ached with the weight of Eli's disappointment and disapproval. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the dinner continued, you tried to push aside your hurt feelings and focus on enjoying the rest of the evening. But deep down, you couldn't shake the sense of inadequacy that your father's words had stirred within you, a painful reminder of your status as the perpetual disappointment in his eyes. But you forced a smile onto your face, and you were happy. After all, it was a night to celebrate. It was your father's birthday, and everyone should be happy. You turned to your brother and started an animated conversation with him, talking about everything and nothing.

And so, the night passed until you and your brother said goodbye and prepared to leave. However, as you made your way to your car, you realized that you couldn't find your keys in your pocket. It suddenly dawned on you that you had forgotten them at your parents' house. As you approached your parents' house to retrieve the forgotten car key, you hesitated for a moment outside the door, the voices of your parents drifting through the air. Initially, you thought they were just chatting or perhaps discussing plans for the next day, but as you listened more closely, the tone of their conversation sent shivers down your spine.

"...at least pretend to be happy about her gift," Sarah's voice, tinged with frustration, reached your ears first.

Eli's response was immediate, his tone dismissive and biting. "Why should I pretend, Sarah? It's just another one of her silly paintings. If she wants to waste her time on that nonsense, fine. But don't expect me to pretend it's anything more than that."

You felt a pang of hurt at your dad's words, his lack of appreciation for your efforts cutting deeper than you cared to admit. As Sarah attempted to defend your gift, Eli's retort struck you like a physical blow.

"And what was that comment about having to kill herself to be a great artist? Honestly, Eli, can't you see how hurtful that is?" Sarah's voice, filled with exasperation and sadness, echoed your own feelings of disappointment.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience evident in his voice. "Oh, please. I was just being realistic. She's not going to make it as an artist, no matter how much you coddle her. And besides, if she's dumb enough to think her paintings will make her a great artist, then maybe she deserves a reality check."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the weight of your dad's words settled heavily on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the argument between your parents reached its peak, you forced yourself to open the door and step inside, your head hung low as you made your way to the counter where you had left your car key. Your parents fell silent as they watched you, their expressions filled with surprise and concern.

Picking up the key with trembling hands, you turned to face them, your voice barely above a whisper as you addressed them. "I forgot my key. I'll just...I'll see you later," you mumbled, your heart heavy with disappointment as you turned and made your way back outside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over you like a dark cloud. Despite your best efforts to please your father, it seemed that you would forever be a disappointment in his eyes. And as you drove away from your parents' house, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever be able to escape the shadow of your dad's disapproval.

As you drove home, your vision blurred by tears, you couldn't shake the weight of your father's harsh words. Each syllable echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The familiar scent of paint greeted you as you entered your apartment, your sanctuary, your studio. But instead of finding solace in the comforting aroma, it only served to remind you of your own inadequacy in your father's eyes.

With trembling hands, you made your way through the cluttered space, your eyes falling on the canvases scattered around the room. Each painting, a testament to your passion and talent, now felt like a mockery of your futile efforts to win your father's approval.

In a moment of overwhelming despair, you lashed out, sweeping your arm across the nearest table, sending brushes, paints, and canvases crashing to the floor in a cacophony of destruction. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the room, matching the turmoil raging within your own heart.

As you stood amidst the wreckage, tears streaming down your cheeks, you felt a sense of catharsis wash over you. With each shattered piece of paintbrush and torn canvas, you released a fragment of the pain and frustration that had been building inside you for so long.

But even as you succumbed to the chaos of your emotions, a flicker of determination stirred within you. You knew that there was only one thing that could ease the ache in your heart, only one outlet for the storm of emotions raging within you: painting.

With renewed purpose, you retrieved a fresh canvas and a palette of vibrant colors, your hands moving with a sense of urgency born from desperation. With each brushstroke, you poured your heart and soul onto the canvas, channeling your pain and anguish into a whirlwind of color and emotion.

Hours passed in a blur as you painted through the night, your movements fluid and instinctual, driven by a need to escape the suffocating weight of your father's disapproval. Each stroke of the brush was a release, a cathartic expression of the turmoil raging within you.

You painted sadness, despair, and chaos, each image a reflection of the tumultuous storm that raged within your own soul. But amidst the darkness, there was also beauty, a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of pain and uncertainty.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you stepped back to admire your work, the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on your shoulders. But despite the weariness that threatened to consume you, there was also a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of the emotions that had driven you to create.

With a heavy heart and aching limbs, you collapsed onto the floor beside your paintings, the tears finally drying on your cheeks as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep. And as you drifted off into the realm of dreams, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had your art, you would always find a way to weather the storm.

Days later, despite the emotional turmoil you had experienced, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar pattern of seeking your father's approval. It was a habit ingrained deeply within you, a longing to win even a sliver of recognition from a man who seemed perpetually out of reach.

But then, news came in a surprising package: your father, Eli, had won the Nobel Prize. The announcement came through your mother, Sarah, who couldn't contain her excitement as she relayed the incredible news to you and your brother, Barkley.

Filled with a mix of disbelief and pride, you made a point to visit your parents' house to congratulate your father in person. As you entered the room, Eli's face lit up with a rare smile at the sight of you, a genuine warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Congratulations, Dad!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you rushed forward to embrace him. Your dad returned the hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness, a gesture that felt unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eli said, his voice tinged with pride as he pulled away to look at you. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my family."

You beamed at his words, a surge of happiness flooding through you at the rare display of affection from your father. In that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of the bond that had been strained for so long.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself sharing a moment of camaraderie with your father, a sense of connection that had eluded you for years. You laughed together, reminisced about old memories, and even shared a toast to celebrate your father's incredible achievement.

And amidst the laughter and joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to share this moment with your father. Despite the years of disappointment and frustration, you cherished this fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade of arrogance and indifference.

As the night came to an end, and the celebrations had taken their toll, you found yourself in a state of inebriation that made driving impossible. Eli, being the responsible parent, decided to take you home. However, getting you into the car turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

You were feeling particularly stubborn and silly, bouncing around the living room with an air of joviality. "I'm the Nobel Prize winner's daughter!" you exclaimed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you twirled around the room. "And my father is a geniuuus" you sang, your voice filled with laughter.

Eli couldn't help but suppress a smile at your antics, his eyes rolling with amusement as he watched you dance around the room. But when Sarah voiced her concerns and urged you to be careful, Eli knew it was time to intervene.

With a gentle sigh, he made his way over to you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of patience and understanding. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection as he reached out to scoop you up in his arms. "It's time to go home."

You giggled uncontrollably as Eli lifted you off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck in a playful embrace. "But Daaaad!" you protested, your words slurring slightly with intoxication. "Can't we stop by McDonald's?"

Eli chuckled softly at your request, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way towards the door. "Maybe next time, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm as he carried you towards the waiting car.

As you waved goodbye to your mother over your father's shoulder, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over you, despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses. And as your dad carefully buckled you into the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the rare moment of connection shared between father and daughter, even in the midst of your drunken antics.

As Eli drove to your apartment, he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at your off-key singing, the melody of your voice filling the car with a sense of lightheartedness amidst the chaos of the night. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, his daughter, swaying in the passenger seat with a carefree grin on your face.

Ignoring your playful antics, Eli focused on the road ahead, navigating the familiar streets with practiced ease. But despite his outward composure, there was a sense of relief in his heart as he guided the car towards your apartment, knowing that he had managed to get you home safely despite the challenges of the evening.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment building, Eli turned to you with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed with worry. "Do you think you'll be able to make it up to your apartment on your own?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

You nodded in response, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," you slurred slightly, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in your system. "Thank you for getting me home."

Eli softened at your words, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he reached out to gently pat your hand. "I'm always worried about your safety, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice quiet and sincere. "Just promise me you'll take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

You nodded in agreement, your head bobbing slightly as you struggled to maintain your balance. "I promise, Dad," you replied, your words muffled by a yawn as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

With a gentle smile, Eli helped you out of the car and escorted you to the entrance of the building, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he made sure you would enter safely. "Take care, sweetheart," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fatherly affection. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You waved goodbye to your father, a playful grin spreading across your face as you stumbled towards the entrance of the building. "I'll paint a picture of you with your Nobel Prize!" you called out, your words slurred but filled with determination.

Eli rolled his eyes at your drunken proclamation, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Don't waste your time on that," he replied, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "Just focus on getting some rest."

As you stumbled through the doorway and disappeared from sight, Eli stayed parked outside the building, his gaze lingering on the entrance with a sense of lingering concern. Despite his dismissive words, there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry about you, his daughter, stumbling through the darkness alone.

He knew he was tough on you sometimes, but he just wanted you to be better, to have the best, and he knew his silly paintings wouldn't give him that.

With a heavy sigh, he finally pulled away from the curb and began the journey back home, the events of the evening swirling through his mind as he navigated the empty streets. And as he drove through the quiet night, a sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that despite the challenges and complexities of their relationship, he would always be there to watch over you, his beloved daughter.

Meanwhile, you went up to your apartment, fumbling a little with your keys before getting in, falling straight onto the couch tiredly. Despite the alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and warmth lingering within you. The evening spent with your father, Eli, had been unexpectedly pleasant, filled with laughter and genuine moments of connection that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As you settled onto the couch, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind, savoring each precious memory like a cherished treasure. Despite Eli's usual indifference and tendency to dismiss your passions, you had managed to share a moment of genuine camaraderie with him, a glimmer of the father-daughter bond that had been strained for so long.

In that moment, you felt a surge of love and gratitude towards Eli, a flicker of hope that perhaps, despite his flaws and shortcomings, he did care about you in his own way. You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

But days later, your sense of security and reassurance would be shattered in an instant, replaced by a chilling realization that would rock you to your core. Bound and gagged, staring into the face of your kidnapper, you felt a sense of disbelief and terror wash over you as they dialed your parents' number, putting the call on speaker for you to hear.

As the voice of your father, Eli, echoed through the room, you held your breath, desperately hoping for a glimmer of compassion or concern in his words. But what you heard instead sent a shockwave of pain ripping through your chest, leaving you reeling in disbelief and agony.

"I'm not giving you two million dollars for her," Eli's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through the silence like a knife. "She's not worth that much."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, crushing any lingering hope or illusion you had held onto about your father's love and affection. In that moment, you realized with devastating clarity that Eli's indifference towards you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, his actions speaking volumes about the true extent of his disregard for your well-being.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled against the bonds that held you captive, the weight of Eli's betrayal bearing down on you like a heavy burden. How could he abandon you like this, in your darkest hour of need? How could he place a price tag on your life, as if you were nothing more than a disposable commodity?

As the reality of your situation sank in, you felt a sense of despair and hopelessness wash over you, threatening to consume you whole. And in that moment of darkness, the flicker of love and gratitude you had felt towards Eli was extinguished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment.

"I'm not joking," the kidnapper insisted, his tone cold and merciless. "I want two million dollars, and I want it now. If you don't pay up, she'll suffer the consequences."

How could your father refuse to pay for your freedom? The realization that he considered you unworthy of such a sum was like a dagger to your chest, leaving you gasping for air as you struggled to comprehend his callous indifference.

Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Stockholm, Eli ended the call with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already moving on to other matters. When Sarah questioned him about the call, he brushed it off with a casual shrug, dismissing it as unimportant.

"No one important," he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just some prank caller trying to get a rise out of me."

But little did Eli know, as he lounged in his luxurious surroundings, that his daughter's life hung in the balance, her fate at the mercy of a ruthless kidnapper who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Back in the dimly lit room where you were held captive, the kidnapper crouched in front of you, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he pondered his next move. The prospect of not receiving the ransom he had demanded left him feeling conflicted, unsure of what to do with you now that his plans had been thwarted.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" the kidnapper muttered, taking the gag off of you, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "If your daddy won't pay, then what's the point of keeping you around?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, fear and panic gripping you in their icy embrace. The thought of what he might do to you now, with no hope of rescue in sight, sent shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep your composure.

But your terror only intensified as you saw the hungry look in the kidnapper's eyes, a predatory gleam that sent a chill down your spine. You knew what he was thinking, could see the lust and desire written plainly on his face, and the realization filled you with a sense of helpless dread.

"No, please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear as you pleaded with him. "Don't do this. Please, just let me go."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the kidnapper's gaze lingered hungrily on you, his lips curling into a sinister smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. In that moment, you knew with chilling certainty that your fate was sealed, that there would be no rescue, no salvation from the horrors that awaited you.

Desperate and terrified, you called out for your father, Eli, your voice cracking with anguish as you begged him to intervene, to save you from the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that he would never come to your rescue, just as he had never come to your aid on that fateful day when you first learned to ride a bike, falling and crying out for him, only to be met with silence and indifference.

And as you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling above you, memories of your father flood your mind like a torrential downpour. You can't help but think back to that day when you were just a child, learning to ride a bike for the first time. You remember the excitement in your heart as you pedaled furiously down the street, the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed.

But then, disaster struck, and you lost your balance, tumbling to the ground in a heap of scraped knees and tears. Through the blur of pain and disappointment, you cried out for your father, hoping for his comforting embrace to soothe your wounded pride. But he was nowhere to be found, lost in his own world of ambitions and achievements, too preoccupied to spare a moment for his injured child.

That day was just one of many in a long list of your father's neglectful moments, a pattern of behavior that had shaped your relationship with him for as long as you could remember. From missed recitals to forgotten birthdays, Eli's indifference had left an indelible mark on your psyche, a wound that festered with each passing disappointment.

And today was just one more addition to that list, a stark reminder of your father's priorities and his lack of concern for anything or anyone outside of his own ambitions. As you lay in the hospital bed, grappling with the aftermath of your ordeal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you, a bitter acceptance of the fact that your father would never change.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room, your brother Barkley paces back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he anxiously dials your parents' number. After several rings, his father Eli finally answers, his voice tinged with annoyance as he questions Barkley's reason for calling.

"What is it, Barkley?" Eli snaps, his tone curt and dismissive as he brushes off his son's attempt to interrupt his celebration. "I'm in the middle of something important. This better be worth disturbing me."

Barkley takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that he knows is about to unfold. "Dad, it's about [Your Name]," he says, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She's in the hospital."

Eli's response was immediate, his tone shifting from annoyance to genuine concern as he pressed Barkley for more information. "What do you mean she's in the hospital?" he demanded, his voice tinged with panic. "Is she okay? Explain this properly."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Barkley relayed the details of the situation as best as he could. "She was found abandoned in a dirty alley," he explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "Some people called 911, and she was taken to the hospital. They tried to call you and Mom, but you didn't answer, so they called me."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line as Eli processed the gravity of the situation. Despite his usual self-centered demeanor, a flicker of concern and fear crept into his voice as he responded. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

Barkley hesitates for a moment before delivering the next piece of devastating information. "The doctor said she was raped and assaulted," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They found evidence of trauma...down there."

Eli's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to process the horrifying news. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "Is she...is she conscious? Can she talk?"

Barkley's heart aches as he shakes his head, the weight of the situation bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "No, she's not talking to anyone," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "She's just...staring into space."

Eli's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to comprehend the extent of his daughter's suffering. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said she's in shock," Barkley explains, his words coming out in a rush. "They're doing everything they can for her, but...but we need to be there, Dad. She needs us."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to his son's words, the weight of his daughter's suffering bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm coming," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Tell her...tell her I'm coming to her. I'll be there soon."

As Barkley looked out the window, his heart sank at the sight of you lying motionless in the hospital bed. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him as he listened to your father's voice crackle over the phone, his words filled with a mixture of concern and desperation.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," Barkley confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's not responding, she's just...staring into space."

But before he could say anything else, Eli's voice cut through the air, his tone strained with worry. "She'll be fine, Barkley. She has to be," he insisted, but Barkley could hear the uncertainty in his father's voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume him.

Barkley nodded weakly, his own doubts and fears swirling inside him as he struggled to find the strength to comfort his sister. "I know, Dad. I just...I wish there was more I could do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eli fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air between them. "Just be there for her, Barkley. That's all we can do," he said finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As the call ended and the limo sped towards the nearest airport, Sarah clung to Eli's side, her own worry etched across her face. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Eli wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close in a comforting embrace. "She'll be fine, Sarah. She has to be," he repeated, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room in California, Barkley walked in and approached your bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I talked to Mom and Dad," he began softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Dad's coming, you know. He'll be here soon."

But you remained silent, your gaze fixed on nothing as you lay there unmoving. Barkley felt a pang of sadness in his chest at your lack of response, the weight of your suffering bearing down on him like a heavy burden.

"I know how much you love Dad," Barkley continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe when he gets here, you'll snap out of this. Maybe you'll come back to us."

But as he spoke, Barkley couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut, the fear that you might never be the same again. And as he sat there holding your hand, surrounded by the sterile scent of the hospital room, he prayed silently for a miracle to bring you back to them.

But you remained silent, your usually vibrant personality seemingly extinguished by the traumatic events you had endured. Barkley had never seen you so quiet; you were always the talker, the light of the family, bringing laughter and joy wherever you went. But now, the silence that surrounded you felt suffocating, like a heavy blanket weighing down on their already burdened hearts.

Days passed, and Barkley's fears began to materialize. Despite being released from the hospital, you remained distant and cold, your eyes hollow and devoid of the spark that once lit up your face. The only time you opened your mouth was to recount the harrowing details of your kidnapping and assault to the police at the hospital. After that, you retreated into yourself, shutting out the world and refusing to engage with anyone, not even your father, who had always seemed to be the center of your world.

"Barkley, I don't know what to do," Sarah confided in him one evening, her voice trembling with worry. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Eli...I'm afraid she's slipping away from us."

Barkley's heart ached at the pain in his mother's voice, his own sense of helplessness mirrored in her eyes. "I know, Mom. I'm worried too," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Together, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the enormity of the situation. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience; if only he had been able to protect you, to prevent this tragedy from befalling you. But deep down, he knew that no amount of regret could change what had happened.

As days turned into weeks, Barkley watched you from a distance, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had retreated into yourself, isolating yourself in your apartment and shutting out the world. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness as he watched you paint, your once vibrant and colorful creations now replaced by somber and melancholic images.

He tried to talk to you, to break through the wall of silence that surrounded you, but you ignored his every attempt. It pained him to see you like this, lost in your own despair, but he didn't know what else to do.

One evening, as Barkley once again attempted to reach out to you, you brushed him off without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Defeated, Barkley turned and walked away, his heart heavy with disappointment.

But Barkley had a plan, a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of his guilt and the toxic environment that surrounded him. With your mother's help, he concocted a scheme to steal money from your father, Eli, and leave town for good.

Together, they managed to steal two million dollars from Eli’s accounts—enough to start a new life, far from the pain and suffering that consumed his family. They assured you that you would be fine, asking if you wanted to go with them, but your silence was answer enough.

And so, one fateful night, Barkley and your mother disappeared into the night, leaving you behind in your empty apartment, alone with your thoughts and your paintings.

Meanwhile, in his luxurious home, Eli wasted away, drowning his sorrows in alcohol as he wallowed in self-pity and regret. He had lost everything – his money, his wife, and now his son. But he still had you, his daughter, his beautiful daughter whom he had failed to protect.

Eli's cell phone rang on the coffee table in the dimly lit living room, breaking the silence that had enveloped the house for weeks. He glanced at the caller ID but didn't recognize the number, yet he answered it eagerly, hoping for some sign of life amidst the desolation.

"Hello?" Eli's voice trembled with anticipation as he held the phone to his ear.

"Dad?" Your voice, soft and distant, echoed through the line, sending a surge of relief and concern coursing through Eli's veins. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks, and the sound of it now filled him with a mixture of joy and apprehension.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" Eli's heart raced as he waited for your response, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him, your voice carrying a weight that chilled him to the bone. "You were right, Dad," you said, your words hanging heavy in the air. "The painter has to die for his works to become famous."

Eli froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind your words. His mind raced back to your paintings, the somber and melancholic images that had replaced the vibrant and colorful creations you had once produced. Was this what you had meant?

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where are you?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern and dread.

You continued speaking, your voice hollow and distant. "Because people like it, right? People like tragic things, sad things," you said, your words echoing with a disturbing clarity.

Eli's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "No, no, my dear, please don't do anything rash," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you right away."

But you remained resolute, your mind seemingly made up. "I'm on a bridge," you replied calmly. "I'm going to jump, father. I'm going to become a great artist like Van Gogh."

Eli's hands shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear, the weight of your words crushing him with a suffocating sense of helplessness. "No, please, don't do this," he begged, his voice choked with tears. "I'll do anything, just please come back to me."

Eli's heart sank as he listened to your unsettling silence, his sense of guilt and regret weighing him down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But please, don't do this. I'm coming to you right now. Just stay still, okay? Don't move."

But you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the air with a bitter edge. "You never came to my aid when I needed you, Dad. You never did," you said, your words laced with disappointment and resentment.

Eli's chest tightened at your accusation, the weight of his failures as a father bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been a shitty father, and I regret it every day."

But you remained steadfast, your resolve unyielding as you spoke once more. "The key to my apartment is under the rug," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the chaos of the moment. "My paintings...put them up for auction. Maybe then you can recover the money Barkley and Mom stole."

Eli tried to protest, to argue that the money didn't matter in comparison to the value of your life, but you silenced him with a swift motion, sliding your cell phone and tossing it off the bridge, watching it disappear into the depths below.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, your mind set on your decision. "Become a great artist," you whispered to yourself before taking the leap, the rush of wind drowning out the sounds of the world around you.

As you plummeted towards the water below, a crowd of onlookers gathered on the bridge, their smartphones held high as they captured the moment for posterity. But you paid them no mind, your focus solely on the journey ahead, whatever it may bring.

A month had passed since the tragic day you took your leap from the bridge, and Eli found himself enveloped in a fog of despair. Despite his best efforts, there was still no sign of your body, no closure to the nightmare that had consumed their lives. The newspapers relentlessly replayed the cell phone footage of your final moments, each viewing tearing at Eli's heart anew.

With a heavy heart, Eli finally gathered the courage to fulfill your final wish. He put your paintings up for auction, just as you had requested, each stroke of the brush a painful reminder of the vibrant soul you once were.

Sitting at the back of the auction hall, Eli struggled to maintain his composure as each painting was presented to the eager bidders. Memories flooded his mind with each piece, from the happiest to the darkest, each one a testament to the complexity of your spirit.

He remembered the little girl he once carried in his arms, her bright eyes gazing up at him with an innocence that melted his heart. Back then, he had felt a twinge of disappointment at having a girl instead of the son he had hoped for, but that feeling quickly dissipated as he held you close, your warmth and love filling the void in his heart.

He recalled the annoyance he felt when you were a child, following him everywhere and refusing to leave him alone for a second. He had often found himself exasperated by your constant presence, yearning for moments of solitude that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Then there were the times you had forced him to have tea with you and your dolls, a memory that now brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He remembered the humiliation he had felt, sitting awkwardly amongst your toys, pretending to sip from a tiny porcelain cup as you chattered away happily.

But perhaps the most vivid memory of all was the day you had drawn on the important papers he carried with him everywhere. He had scolded you harshly for it, unable to understand why you would deface something so precious to him. But you had looked up at him with tears in your eyes and explained that you just wanted him to carry a little piece of you with him wherever he went. In that moment, Eli had felt a surge of tenderness towards you, his anger melting away as he realized the depth of your love for him.

As another painting of you went up for auction, Eli forced himself to become stoic, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as the bids climbed higher and higher, each one a testament to the impact you had made on the world with your art.

Finally, a man stood out amongst the crowd, offering two million dollars for one of your paintings. The auctioneer turned to the man and asked for his name, and Eli's heart skipped a beat when he heard the answer.

"Lionel Shabandar," the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a note of authority as he met Eli's gaze with a steely determination.

But Eli looked away, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he remembered who Lionel Shabandar was. One of the richest men in London, Shabandar's presence in California seemed out of place. Why would he be here, at this auction, to buy a painting of his daughter's?

The auction continued, and Eli watched in surprise as Shabandar purchased nearly all of the paintings, one after another, with unwavering determination. Eli couldn't comprehend why Shabandar, a man of such wealth and influence, would be interested in his daughter's art. But the sight of him acquiring every piece only deepened the mystery.

As the auction drew to a close and Shabandar rose to leave, Eli felt a sudden urge to confront him. He hurriedly followed Shabandar, calling out for him to wait. Surprisingly, Shabandar halted in his tracks and turned to face Eli, greeting him with a nod as if they were old acquaintances.

"Doctor Eli Michaelson, isn't it?" Shabandar's voice was smooth and cultured, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Eli nodded, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Yes, that's me. But forgive me if I'm mistaken, but do we know each other?"

Shabandar smiled knowingly. "No, not personally. But I've heard about you, Doctor Michaelson. Congratulations on your Nobel Prize," he said, his tone respectful.

Eli brushed off the compliment, his mind focused on the matter at hand. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. I need to know why you bought all those paintings."

Shabandar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Isn't it obvious? Your daughter was a remarkable artist."

Eli's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Remarkable, yes, but why would you, of all people, be interested in her work?"

Shabandar chuckled softly, gesturing towards the paintings on display. "Because I recognize talent when I see it, Doctor Michaelson. Your daughter's art spoke to me in a way that few others have. Each brushstroke, each detail, conveyed a depth of emotion that is truly rare."

Eli remained unconvinced, his suspicions lingering like a shadow. "And what do you plan to do with her paintings now that you've bought them all?"

Shabandar shrugged nonchalantly. "Display them, perhaps. Or perhaps donate them to a museum. It's too soon to say."

Eli studied Shabandar carefully, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. But Shabandar's demeanor remained calm and composed, his intentions shrouded in mystery.

Before Eli could press further, Shabandar glanced at his watch and made to leave. "I must be going, but congratulations, Doctor Michaelson, your daughter has become a great artist," he said, offering a polite nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Eli was left alone, standing still amidst the bustling auction hall, his thoughts consumed by a flood of memories. As he turned to look at the paintings that had once adorned the walls of your apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside him.

You didn't become a great artist, no, you already were for a long time. Since you were a child and scribbled on the walls, on Eli's important papers, until Eli got fed up and gave you a painting kit. He remembered the day vividly, the frustration in his voice as he handed you the brushes and the canvas, hoping to pacify you with a creative outlet.

He could almost see you there, looking at the blank canvas and the paints in your tiny hands, asking your father what you should paint. And he, in his typical dismissive manner, had simply replied, "Paint something that will make me proud."

And you had smiled at him, a radiant beam of innocence that melted his heart, before setting to work with a determination that belied your tender age. You painted and painted, your tiny fingers creating masterpieces that Eli had never thought possible.

But despite your talent, Eli had never been proud of your paintings, always dismissing them as mere child's play. He had been blind to the beauty and depth of your art, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to see the world through your eyes.

As he stood there now, surrounded by the remnants of your creativity, Eli felt a pang of regret gnawing at his conscience. He wished he could go back, to cherish those moments with you, to celebrate your talent and nurture it with the love and support you deserved.

But it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was honor your memory, to ensure that the world knew of the remarkable artist you had been. And as he looked around the auction hall, at the eager bidders clamoring for a piece of your legacy, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Lionel Shabandar, the enigmatic stranger who had recognized your talent when he had failed to do so.

With a heavy heart, Eli made his way home, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him with each step. But amidst the grief and the guilt, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of pride in knowing that you had left behind a legacy that would endure long after you were gone.

And as he gazed at the painting kit he had given you all those years ago, now gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, Eli made a silent vow to cherish the memory of his daughter, the talented artist whose brilliance had shone brighter than he could have ever imagined.

[jigujellee]

(gif creds: kimlipz)

YOUR VOICE IS MY FAVORITE SOUND -> while helping yunjin write her new song, you realize that there's more to her than her loud goofball self.

yunjin x 6th member!reader FLUFF >> word count: 1.4k warnings: none bc fluff is meant to be soft and gushy

a/n: here's me apologzing for the yunjin angst <3 to avoid any confusion - this is NOT a prequel to "love the way you lie" nor is it related in any way; this is its own thing where reader and yunjin are happily together bc they deserve it; enjoy soft and whipped y/n while i try to get angsty again

even with the water running, kazuha and eunchae could be heard in the background, giggling at whatever they were watching on the older girl’s phone.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t help you tonight y/n. i’ll do the dishes tomorrow okay?” your leader says as she magically emerges from her bedroom and immediately snakes her arms around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“i don’t mind cleaning up unnie, it’s really okay” chaewon hums in response while you place the last bowl on the dish rack to dry.

“where’s yunjin unnie?”

“in her room. i think she’s writing again”

you smile at the thought of your girlfriend trying to write a song. you could easily imagine the way she scrunches her nose while trying to figure out a chord progression, or the way her tongue slightly pokes out as she writes down lyrics in her notebook.

“maybe you should go help her instead of standing here and smiling like a creepy idiot” chaewon interrupts.

“for a moment, i forgot you were here” you joke as you playfully wipe your wet hands on her face.

“ya y/n!! i just did my skincare routine!” she yells while aggressively wiping her face on your shirt, which earned chaewon a playful slap on the shoulder.

once you finish wiping down the counters and tucking in eunchae’s chair (she swears her new year’s resolution is to push in her own chair), you walk towards yunjin’s bedroom. her door is ajar and from where you were standing, you could hear her hum a melody and attempt to strum a few chords. her back is to the door so she’s unaware that you’re leaning against her doorframe, admiring the art that is huh yunjin herself. you watch as she puts her pen down and clears her throat before singing;

it’s kind of shitty isn’t it? not the way we pictured it feels like an existential crisis or am i being dramatic? i wish the world would shut its mouth

“give me space to… sort all this shit out? no that doesn’t sound good” she grunts, and yunjin drops the guitar pick to replace it with her pen, scribbling out what she previously wrote. she sings the same line over and over, and just as she’s about to give up, you finally break your silence and offer a suggestion.

give me space to fucking sort it out?

yunjin’s head immediately turns around, you’re worried it might have given her whiplash. as soon as your eyes meet, you watch a smile grow on her face and you return the gesture with a smile of your own as you walk towards her bed.

“give me space to fucking sort it out,” yunjin tests the way it sounds before continuing on;

like i’m fine, just leave me alone i’m great on my own

you can’t help but stare at yunjin, watching the crinkles on her forehead when she sings and listening to how soft and melodic her voice is.

“honey, you’re staring”

“am i not allowed to admire you, my love?”

“it’s making me shy,” she admits, pink blush slowly painting her cheeks resulting in another smile on your face.

it's rare for yunjin to openly admit when she's shy. though her mbti says she's an introvert, you'd believe she's everything but that when you get to know her. she was a loud goofball most of the time and you absolutely loved her for that. but you also loved her in moments like this; when she’s quiet, focused, and vulnerable. yunjin always felt shy whenever she showed you the songs she wrote, and you’ll never forget about the time she admitted that it feels like she’s naked and bare in front of you when she presents her own creations.

you then realize you don't need to physically touch her to feel close to her - you feel her heart and soul in every word she sings, and you believe it’s the closest you’ll ever be to yunjin.

“helloooo anyone there? looks like someone’s staring again”

“well i think it sounds like an amazing song already” you say, finally breaking out of your daze.

“oh stop it, you’re just saying that because i’m your girlfriend”

“i’m saying it because it’s true. now sing some more, i’ll help with the chords”

now it’s yunjin’s turn to stare as she watches you take her acoustic guitar out of her hands, and grab her electric guitar instead.

“now look who’s staring” you say while plugging the guitar into an amp and start tuning it.

“i’m just lucky to have a girlfriend who’s talented like you”

you never liked to brag about your talent, but yunjin wasn’t lying. you’ve always loved anything and everything to do with music, and you would beg your parents to get you any instrument they could get their hands on - piano, guitar, drums, bass, and even violin. at some point during your trainee days, you even learned how to produce and mix songs. by definition, you were indeed an ace but you didn’t like admitting it and you’d playfully roll your eyes whenever the other members called you their ace.

“just sing darling” yunjin momentarily gushes at the pet name prior to singing, just as you requested.

i don’t know what i’d be doing without you you love who i am cause i don’t care as long as i’m with you i’ll reach for your hand

you couldn’t even bring yourself to try and come up with a chord progression; you wanted to hear that voice over and over for the rest of your life.

along with her heavenly voice, you also admired yunjin’s penmanship. you could tell her lyrics always came from the deepest parts of her heart and after hearing what she just sang, you feel your heart swell - you were just so amazed and proud at what she was capable of doing.

“go again,” and so she did. you asked her to sing about 3 or 4 more times before she realized you weren't even strumming anything.

“baby, are you gonna play or what?”

you chuckled and asked her to sing once more, with you actually playing the guitar this time.

“how was that?” she asks as you two wrapped up the song, and you notice her fidgeting with the corner of the page of her notebook. hearing her ask for feedback brought you back to the days you’d spend by her side while she’d practice before her monthly evaluation. it's a bittersweet memory for they were the moments you cherished the most but were also considered some of the toughest times in your career.

you don’t answer her and instead lean in to kiss her soft lips. of course, she enthusiastically returns the kiss causing her to drop her pen and notebook to wrap her arms behind your neck.

“ew,” says the leader from outside yunjin’s door. “close the door next time, eunchae might see you two,” and you look at yunjin before bursting out into laughter with her.

-

“3, 2, 1!” the staff counts down and the 6 of you blow the candles on the cake they prepared for you.

“happy 100 days to us!” eunchae yells while taking pictures of the cake and the decorations surrounding you.

after posing for pictures, the staff begins to play yunjin’s song through the speakers. everyone, including you, cheers and congratulates her for the release of her own solo song. you make your way towards her and embrace her lovingly, ignoring the sound of your other members fake gagging.

“you made a wonderful song, mahal”

“no, we did” she chuckles.

“you know what i think? we should write another song together and perform it on our wedding day”

yunjin feels her heart burst at the mention of your wedding. although it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, it brings so much excitement and leaves her to wonder what else was in store for the two of you, and also for the group.

she tries to lean in for a kiss but unfortunately, you're torn apart when chaewon and kazuha pull her away to take pictures while eunchae and sakura invite you to start eating the cake. yunjin's song comes to a close as you stare at your members and staff, and you smile as you think about all the memories you’ve made together while looking forward to the future of le sserafim.

but raise your glass, to the story of us.

[alluring-eclipse]

Hiii! Could you write headcanons of the dr2 characters (you can choose whichever ones if you don't want to write all of them) with a reader (platonic) who is very realistic, and expresses it in funny/sarcastic remarks about the others and their island situation?

They will basically say things like, "Okay, so a magical bunny just freaking teleported us to God-knows-where, and now we're all living in 'Death in Paradise'... Gotcha... Perfectly normal..."

Or, will witness Nagito's behavior in the first trial and say something at that moment, literally right there in the trial room, like, "Alright, so we're stuck with a psychotic control freak who's most likely gonna kill us all 'cause of his beliefs... Yeah, I'm swimming back to Japan, peace! ✌️"

Or at some point will say, "Why are there so many crazy ppl in this class!? Damn, y'all got issues! Y'all need Jesus!" 😭

Of course love, here you go, tell me if I missed anyone please ☺

DR2 X SARCASTIC AND REALISTIC READER - PLATONIC

**Hajime Hinata:**

Your dry humor catches Hajime off guard, making him appreciate the unexpected wit. He often finds himself smirking at your comments, secretly enjoying the realism you bring to their surreal situation.

**Nagito Komaeda:**

During the first trial, you can't help but blurt out your unfiltered thoughts. "Ok, so we're stuck with a psychotic freak who's most likely gonna kill us all because of his beliefs... Yeah, I'm gonna swim back to Japan, peace!" Nagito, oddly unfazed, just smiles, "I'm sure Hope will guide you back."

**Chiaki Nanami:**

Chiaki finds your remarks refreshing, a nice break from the tension. She secretly appreciates your realistic perspective but doesn't express it openly. You become her go-to for a good laugh amidst the chaos.

**Gundham Tanaka:**

Your sarcasm amuses Gundham, and he starts including you in his grandiose speeches. "Ah, the realist amongst mortals! Even in the face of doom, your spirit remains unbroken." You roll your eyes, but it's hard not to smile.

**Mikan Tsumiki:**

Mikan is both fascinated and intimidated by your blunt remarks. She often stammers when you're around, unsure how to respond to your straightforward commentary. Despite this, she secretly admires your confidence.

**Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:**

Fuyuhiko initially brushes off your remarks, but deep down, he appreciates your no-nonsense attitude. When things get tough, he finds himself seeking out your presence for a dose of reality.

**Akane Owari:**

Akane enjoys your humor and often challenges you to participate in her antics. She appreciates your straightforwardness, seeing it as a refreshing change in a sea of eccentric personalities.

**Sonia Nevermind:**

Sonia is intrigued by your realism, finding it a stark contrast to her royal upbringing. She subtly seeks your company, enjoying the down-to-earth perspective you bring to the group.

**Byakuya Togami:**

Your remarks manage to make even Byakuya crack a small smirk occasionally. While he won't openly admit it, he respects your practical outlook and occasionally seeks your opinion on matters.

**Ibuki Mioda:**

Ibuki adores your sarcastic humor, often incorporating it into her wild antics. The two of you make an unexpectedly entertaining duo, bringing a unique dynamic to the group.

**Teruteru Hanamura:**

Teruteru attempts to flirt with you, thinking your realism is just a façade. You shut him down with a dry comment, and he's left both impressed and slightly intimidated by your unyielding attitude.

**Mahiru Koizumi:**

Mahiru appreciates your realistic perspective, especially when it comes to organizing and planning. She often relies on your input, secretly finding comfort in your practical approach to the challenges they face.

**Nekomaru Nidai:**

-the Reader sarcastically comments on Nekomaru's intense training routines, "Oh great, the human bulldozer is here. Just what we need to survive on a deserted island – someone to clear a path to the buffet."

**Hiyoko Saionji:**

- When Hiyoko insults others,the reader fires back, "Wow, such cutting remarks. I hope you use those razor-sharp insults to build us a shelter or something equally useful."

**Kazuichi Soda:**

- Observing Kazuichi's obsession with Sonia, the reader quips, "Dude, if you put half as much effort into fixing things as you do chasing Sonia, we'd have a functional way off this island by now."

**Peko Pekoyama:**

- Seeing Peko's loyalty to Fuyuhiko, the reader deadpans, "Ah, the devoted swordswoman. Remind me to hire you for my next bodyguard gig... if we make it off this island alive, that is."

Hope you enjoyed dear, feel free to make more requests and I'll finish them as soon as I can😇

[ennas-aesthetic]

Retired!Dream as a Librarian AU part 2

I am SOOOOOO glad that the reception for the retired!Dream as a Librarian AU was so enthusiastic and sweet! Thank you so much for that (and if you haven't seen part 1 one yet, click here). More snapshots of the AU will be added as we go, because a retired!Dream experiencing the full range of human emotions in a place of community has brought so many stories to tell.

Anyway, a good friend on Twitter asked what happens when Lucienne finds out that Retired!Dream has become a librarian (or at least, a library volunteer) in the Waking World. I DO, in FACT, have a headcanon locked and loaded for that, so here we go:

Sometimes Dream wonders how on earth he has gotten here.

It wasn't like he hates the job. Dream LOVES the local library - loves the staff and the stories and the people. It's the best outcome he could have ever hoped for, really. Like someone has given him a second chance, a renewal. A new purpose where his existence could transpose into a life worth living.

But, OH, the circumstances that it took for him to get here. If only his former subjects could see him now. If only LUCIENNE could see him now.

Dream understands, more than ever, how much painstaking effort goes into even MAINTAINING a functioning library. Running the vastest library he knows in existence WHILE managing the Dreaming when he runs off to brood must have been a herculean feat. Morpheus resolves to be more appreciative of her work over the millennia, if he ever sees her again.

And see her he does. Lucienne comes to the library one day, on the guise of looking for a mislaid book. Her face is wreathed with smiles, looking sharp and dapper in her suit.

"Greetings, my Lord," she beams, eyes alight with fondness and mirth. "You look to be in good health."

"Please," he says, and surprises himself by laughing out loud. Laughing comes easier to him now, he notices. (The first time he did this in front of the library staff it was in response to an incredibly macabre joke he found hilarious. Dream had slapped a hand to his mouth, but the damage had been done: the library staff looked on in ACTUAL suprise, and then they cackled in earnest, delighted that their strange new colleague had a fucked up sense of humor and an absolutely ridiculous laugh. So many more attempts to make him crack up started since that day. Not that he minded.) "Call me Morpheus. I am your lord no longer."

"Hmm," Lucienne says. "Very well. Hello, Morpheus." And all of a sudden she envelops him into a bone-crushing hug.

"That was not a breach of protocol and conduct, I hope," she says, mischievous, as she lets a rather staggered Dream go. "Seeing as I am your librarian no longer."

Dream smiles wide. He does not think he has ever smiled this frequently in his entire existence.

He gives her a tour of the library, introduces her to the people behind the counter. After a few conversations the staff has agreed on one thing: Lucienne may be the BEST librarian there is. Some of them had already asked her to stay. Dream has to interrupt quickly, saying that she is already a hotshot librarian somewhere else, before steering her away from her new admirers.

"They adore you, it seems," he tells her. Lucienne rolls her eyes. Even as his librarian she had always been frank with him, but seeing her be openly candid with Dream, without the barrier of his Nobility and his Lordship between them, pleased him to no ends. If any outsiders could have seen them, they would have thought they are just extremely close friends (and they are. They are.)

"And they are COMPLETELY enchanted by you," she shoots back, grinning, "which is honestly quite the miracle."

She teases him about finally being able to handle his books, and jokingly chastises him about not doing it sooner. Dream, to her (non) surprise, takes this seriously, and admits, rather abashed, that most of his bookkeeping skills are only existent because of her. He concedes that she is still the better librarian between the two of them. Lucienne is very smug over this confession (as she should be.)

"I am forever indebted to you," Morpheus says, and finds himself a little choked up at the last syllable. "You have given me a lifeline, in more ways than one." He shakes his head. "I do not know how I may ever repay you."

Her eyes are overbright, but when she speaks her voice is steady.

"Just live, Sire," she whispers. "That's repayment enough."

It's a blessing, almost. An anointment of old, except his birthright is now renewed. Just live. Dream nods, determined to make the boon stick. To keep the oath for as long as he can.

Before Lucienne leaves she hands him a gift. "To complete the librarian regalia," she winks. And just like that she's gone.

Inside the box is a compilation of all the "Sandman Stories" he has adlibbed for the kids during Story Time Tuesdays. A note taped on the book: 'Matthew is gloating because he gets to be a dragon. Name a raven after me, will you?' Dream laughs out loud.

(Sure enough, on the next Story Time Tuesday a new character -- Lucienne the Raven Librarian -- was introduced. The kids instantly fell in love with her, and the book feverishly codifies the stories Morpheus comes up for her.)

But that's not all. In the box is another pouch - he opens it, and a pair of spectacles tumble out. Another note: 'from one librarian to another.'

Morpheus wears those spectacles till this very day.

---

Want to know more about the Retired!Dream as a Librarian AU? Read part 1 here and part 3 here.

[nervousladytraveler]

Smutty one-liners:

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” 🙈

Ah @veryflowerobservation my dear friend, you probably thought I'd forgotten this (but like Ross, I forget nothing). I do apologize for the delay. Untitled, but on the theme of quick learners, this is roughly from The Shift universe (but only barely).

---

Ross squinted into the sun as Demelza, dripping and shimmering, emerged from the sea. 

Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

            Slay thou my spirit!

“Ha!” Demelza cried. “The water is brilliant!”

“Is it then?” Ross managed to reply. He suddenly felt as though he’d never really seen her before.

Where had those lines even come from? Classic verse forced upon him in school stored out of reach--In the head? In the heart?--until such moments when it could be properly applied. 

Yes, Demelza was something like a proper goddess, wasn’t she? Although less ruthless than Aphrodite and hopefully less vengeful as well. Perhaps there was some other mythological being who controlled the tides and men’s hearts in equal measure.

Her face was serene--muscles relaxed, eyes fixed forward in a soft focus. Eyes the same blue-green as the sea. Her usually spirited curls had temporarily been pulled straight by the water but a single jerk of her head put things right. She strode slowly and purposefully forward as though she belonged there, on that beach. And always had.

Demelza was good that way. A quick learner but also someone who’d early on come to understand--as a means of survival--that people had a tendency to take you at your own valuation so poise, or faking it, could carry you quite far.

Ross admired her for this. He knew that In fact, she’d come rather late to swimming altogether. While so many Cornish natives claim to have the sea in their blood, Demelza’s upbringing in Illogan had been a somewhat landlocked one. 

“First time I ever swam wasn’t by choice,” she’d once explained. “At my mate Tamsin’s 14th, her brother threw me into the pool--he was having a laugh and didn't mean any harm--but I figured I'd better sort it out or drown then and there.”

“I'm quite glad for your sake that you’re a quick learner,” Ross had replied.

“Oh no, it wasn't for my sake at all. It just didn't seem fair to ruin Tam’s party since she was having a rough go anyway. Her parents had just split and her dad was living at a hotel for the time being--which is why there was even a pool. Maybe your set had pools of their own but mine most certainly did not.”

“No, not my friends. Francis, my late cousin--he went to pool parties quite regularly as a teen but I just swam here at the beach with the village kids,” Ross had explained. One wouldn't suspect now that Demelza hadn’t been one of those village kids, let loose on the strand as soon as they could walk. 

She was a quick learner.

In the few years that he’d known her, he’d watched her quietly and casually collect new skills time and again, often to his benefit. On her first attempt at making a pie, she’d gotten it nearly right--but the second time, she’d absolutely nailed it. Since then, without any great fuss, she did most of the baking for the cafe. 

Of course, recently there was another domain where Demelza had honed new abilities. When they first slept together, she’d openly admitted to not having much prior experience but her sharp instincts--and eagerness to practise had taken her far.

Now, five weeks into their romance, there were times he felt she was the master and he the apprentice. She certainly had bolder inclinations than Ross did when it came to where they made love. The cafe storage room was an early favourite, as was his car after hours. On those rare occasions when she mustered enough patience til they got to his, even before they made their way to the bedroom, she often first required a dalliance in the kitchen, the sitting room, or on the hall stairs.

Today had been no exception. Before they’d had their swim, they’d been exploring one of the many caves carved in the rockface long ago. 

“Come, Ross…” Two words but he knew what she meant.

“Demelza,” he’d said weakly as she deftly undid the front of his swim shorts. 

“No one is here,” she’d assured him. “Just a few odd gulls.”

“But your knees…the rocks are so sharp…” 

Her fingers were cool but her mouth was smooth and warm and he quickly forgot his objections. Their exclamations no matter how quiet and muffled they aimed to be, still echoed in the empty darkness, and afterwards they stood breathless for what seemed like hours, until they made their way back out into the warm sunshine.

She’d stayed in to swim longer than he had. Content, in more ways than one, he sat on the soft sand and watched while her body glided through both air and water. Around them all was dazzled by that particular light only found by the sea in summer.

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance, through the mid- ether…

“Right ho! Hullo!” An unfamiliar--and unwelcome--voice now called down the beach from the north.

Ross pulled his gaze away from his beloved damsel emerging from her seashell and saw the Reverend Mister Odgers walking towards them. A wet black dog ran circles at his heels.

“Good day to you, sir,” Demelza returned the salute with a wave. She was wiping herself off using Ross’s shirt--they’d forgotten to bring towels--and though still clad in only her swimsuit, she’d suddenly transformed herself into the model of demure respectability.

“I say,” Odgers went on after a cursory nod to Ross. “Have you seen a dog round here?”

“You mean that one?” Ross asked sarcastically. He would have been considered the one with the ill manners had the beast not taken that very moment to shake his wet fur in Ross’s general direction.

“No, not our Daniel. Another one--a buff sort of colour, quite a bit like sand!” The man laughed and tugged irritatingly at his collar.

Like sand? That’s fucking helpful at a beach. Ross let out an exhale and grit his teeth, resenting that his intimate moment had so abruptly been intruded upon--and by a pompous man of god, no less.  

“Oh?” Demelza immediately began to scan the horizon. With hand raised shading her eyes, her present posture seemed to accentuate her lovely bust line. Then she licked her lip, presumably to taste the salt from the sea, but it reminded Ross how she’s done the same thing earlier in the cave to signal a job well done. This did little to assuage Ross’s annoyance.

“He couldn't have gone far…” Odgers fretted.

“Oh there he is!” Demelza laughed and pointed to a very small creature, barely noticeable amongst the sharp dune grass behind them. 

“Mufasa! Come, boy!” Odgers pleaded but the dog in question lifted his hind leg in defiance, ignoring his master’s calls. The man took a few steps and the little devil immediately scurried off in the opposite direction.

“Oh dear!” Odgers began to run in an inefficient arc to catch the errant Mufasa. The black spaniel barked great editorials at his heels then abandoned the scene entirely to chase a gull at the water’s edge. “Thank you, miss--and God bless!” Odgers called over his shoulder to Demelza, failing to acknowledge Ross was also present.

“Good lord!” Demelza laughed and took Ross’s hand in hers.

“The man's a fool,” Ross grumbled.

“In more ways than one.” She wove his fingers through hers, then raised their joined hand to admire her work. “First of all, Daniel? Daniel, the spaniel?” She rolled her eyes playfully and Ross found himself smiling. “And the other one? Oh you didn't catch it? No, you wouldn’t, would you. Our dear Reverend Mister Odgers thinks he’s so very clever. Mufasa is a lion from The Lion King. So Daniel and the…?” She danced on one foot waiting for Ross to catch the vicar’s Old Testament joke.

“Is that what passes for humour at the vicarage these days? Or for dog training?” Ross was someone who tended to like dogs but the Odgers pack had gotten under his skin.

“I think the small one is what’s known as a Chiweenie--dachshund and chihuahua mix.”

“Well, the man’s giving him exactly what he wants. A game of chase.”

“Then we should admire the little fella for being such a quick learner,” she said, then read his mood and softened her tone. “Oh Ross, forget Odgers. He’s long gone now. It's just us and the gulls again.”

“Yes, of course,” Ross said and watched her lick her salty lips again. 

Come to me now thus, Goddess, and release me

From distress and pain…

“Demelza,” he teased, ”Tell me, when did you get so friendly with clergymen? Is this one of your newly learned devices?”

“Are you suggesting that somehow I shouldn’t be polite to him of all people? That I should quiver in his very reverent presence--and that of his sacred dogs?” She dropped his hand in mock alarm and raised a brow. Then she smiled to show she was teasing back. “Truly, Ross, I was no more neighbourly to Odgers than I would be to any other passersby,” she added. 

Still, she’d managed the scene so well. And once again Ross was impressed at her poise, her own valuation of herself--and her deceit.

“Demelza,” he laughed. “You may very well act innocent but we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“Hmmn…” She played along. “I seem to recall something vaguely entertaining occurred between us this afternoon but that was far more than two minutes ago. In fact, it has already faded from my mind. Or maybe it just wasn't so memorable?”

“Oh, you are a little devil,” he said and pulled her close for a kiss. “Perhaps you need a fresh lesson to remind you.”

“Yes, Ross,” she said, “Perhaps I do.”

----

Notes: Verse Ross quotes come from Sappho’s “Ode to Aphrodite”. Read it here.  Do I think Ross would have read A level Classics and Sappho at school? No, I do not. But I liked the poem so let's just tuck that away under “artistic licence.” Also, line borrowed from Demelza’s first Trenwith Christmas visit in Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall: “But she was learning fast that people, even well-bred people like those, had a surprising tendency to take you at your own valuation.”

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Chapter 13

in its entirety.

The estate was quite nice. Draco appreciated the abundance of trees and debris blocking a clear path from Flamel’s home to Zabini’s.

“So many windows.” Granger expressed with a bit of awe in her voice. Windows, for a home, were good. They let in natural light, prevented the place from feeling drab and dreary.

But for their purposes, there were just a bit too many, for Draco’s liking. He would make sure to charm them all to prevent anyone from seeing in.

“The kitchen!” Ginny gasped to Granger, and the girls immediately started to explore the cabinetry and refrigerators. It was fully stocked, of course, which Draco appreciated.

“There’s a gym in here!” Harry announced from down the hall during some point of the tour led by Zabini himself. “And a pool,” Seamus had exclaimed as he looked out the massive windows overlooking the terrace and outdoor pool.

Theo rolled his eyes, often, as Zabini continued to charm all his newest tenants with the vast beauty of his (second)home.

Draco had these sort of luxuries before in his life. A time that, now, seemed so long ago. Granted, he wasn’t hurting financially as a grown man free from the constraints of a pureblood high society.

He had quite a bit of money in the bank and he did well for himself(obviously). But it wasn’t anything compared to the wealth he might have gained if he had agreed to marry Astoria. If he had gone through with it.

Granger found him in the kitchen sometime later, pulling a pack of chocolate chip cookies from the pantry.

She smiled at him and it was that bright, open smile he had become accustomed to. He had to admit, as he leaned his hip up against he grand kitchen island and watched her open the fridge, that he had had a moment of doubt last night. When her eyes had, for a brief moment, showed him something more than the usual light and joy that she exuded around him.

He had been openly flirting with her. Both he and Theo had been and it was the first time she looked flustered around them. The first time she had looked withdrawn. Even if it was for only a second.

She pulled out a bowl of fresh blueberries and strawberries and set it on the kitchen island in front of him. Her brow lifted before she accioed the cookies and sent them back into the pantry.

“Here,” Her hand pushed the bowl closer to him.

Draco grimaced but obeyed. He picked up a fat little blueberry and popped it into his mouth.

Draco watched her as she ran a hand over the counter, appreciating the intricate veins of white marble beneath the surface of the rock. He appreciated the way her lashes fanned over her cheeks as she stared down. The slight curve to her nose. The beauty mark on the the side of the bridge, near the corner of her eye.

“My family disowned me,” He said it, without really understanding why. But something about this house and the way she seemed to admire the beauty of it propelled the truth from him.

Her eyes lifted to his and they were wide with surprise.

“Because of Astoria,” he added before biting into a strawberry.

“Even your mother?”

Talk of his mother wasn’t something he did openly. Or even at all. Not in at least fifteen years. Whenever anyone of his family came up, he usually clumped everyone together into the same category. His father, his grandfather, cousins...his mother.

Because, while she had not openly expressed that he should be cut off, his mother had not fought his father. Who was viciously angry with Draco, of course. His mother had been disappointed, cried even, when he had returned to the manor after running out on Astoria. But when his father swore to disown him, she had said nothing and Draco had accepted it as his fate.

“Even my mother.”

She frowned and glanced down at the bowl of fruit he continued plucking through. “Why did you wait until the day of the wedding?” Her voice was gentle but cautious.

Draco chewed on a strawberry as he considered the promise he made to himself the other day. The day he had learned something about her she hadn’t herself shared.

He swallowed and shrugged. “I was only twenty and I was terribly stunted, emotionally that is.” She almost smiled and so he did. “Still am.”

Granger shook her head, her lips pulling up. “Aren’t we all?”

Draco nodded and looked down at his fingers as they picked up a blueberry, rolled it around between them. “I was ordered to do things, sometimes by my own family, that I never wanted to do. And the day of the wedding, I realized that it was just another thing I was being ordered to do. I was going in, blind. I realized that the rest of my life was going to be a series of things I didn’t want to do. So, I began to panic. Hyperventilate, twist your stomach in knots until I puked kind of panic. You know it?”

She nodded furiously, her lip caught between her teeth. Her bright eyes on his.

“Theo found me like that. On my hands and knees, in front of the toilet. Instead of trying to talk me out of marrying her, or trying to convince me that everything would be fine, he asked me if I wanted to go with him to Monte Carlo.”

“And you did.”

He nodded. "Not initially. I walked up to that alter, and stood there, watching her walk toward me. Then I turned to Theo, who was still standing at my side and told him that I wanted to go to Monte Carlo." He frowned, sheepishly.

"I could have been more honest with Tori but,” he paused and looked around the kitchen. The crown moldings, the large windows and fancy appliances. “She was already planning on building a home like this.” He gestured to the kitchen around them. “She was planning what kind of charity events we would go to, where to donate our money. It was like listening to my mother talk. And Just like my mother, she was also trying to ensure that my family remained in good standing, socially. And my mother was doing it, so that my father could continue to do what? Be vile? I don't know. I might be a thief but don’t want to be vile. Not anymore.”

Granger shook her head.

“I was vile to you once upon a time.”

Her eyes softened as she tilted her head. Granger’s hand reached for his. “You’re not vile.”

He smiled at her as he continued to graze and they shared a moment of quiet as her hand remained clinging to his.

“Theo is my family.” He said, smiling gently at the confession. Because no matter what, through every shitty decision Draco made, and every life altering event, Theo had been there.

“I obliviated my family.” Was her response. “When I was seventeen.”

“Because of...?” He didn’t finished. He still didn’t speak the dark wizard's name. Not out of fear, nor respect. But out of shame for a past he was unable to escape, no matter how hard he tried.

She nodded. “They don’t remember me, or who they were. I tried to reverse it but,” She shrugged. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were downcast, in shame. “I don’t have any family.”

“You do, though.” He turned his hand, so that their palms were pressed together and his thumb began to soothe the backs of her knuckles. “You have Potter and Ginny.”

She shook her head. “I sometimes have Harry.” She paused and watched as she threaded their fingers together. “I have Theo.” She admitted it, quietly. Cautiously.

“And you have me.” Draco lifted their linked hands to his mouth and grazed the tips of her fingers to his lips. “You and I have been through the wringer, yeah? I was, at one point, unworthy of your affections.”

She put his hand to her cheek and leaned into it. “Not anymore.”

Granger’s bright, brown eyes settled onto his and he knew it was only a matter of time before whatever was between them would ignite. It was like a fuse, slowly initiating a charge between two explosive components.

There was something inside of him that was growing and gnawing at him. It was uncomfortable and exciting all at once. He wanted to wrap his arms around his chest and keep whatever it was, there. Because really it felt like it might burst out of him one day. And he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it.

Theo erupted into the kitchen, sufficiently pulling their eyes away from one another. But Draco didn’t let go of her hand. And that micromomentary look from last night was back. Only, it wasn’t so micro. It remained, etched into the corners of her eyes and heavy in the deep set of her brows as they pulled down in thought.

Draco realized then, that it was concern! she felt.

“Does that man ever get tired of blowing his own trumpet?” He paused when he saw Granger. “Granger?”

She lowered her eyes to the floor but Theo moved fast, and his hand was on her chin, guiding her eyes back to him. “What’s the matter? What’s going on?” His voice was low and soothing. They flicked to Draco and back to Granger.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” Theo teased gently as his hand smoothed over her hair, the curls that smelled like sweet tangerines but her hand remained firmly clasped in Draco’s.

“Potter already threw his fancy cloak on and is testing out the boundary line between Zabini’s wards and Flamels.”

Teddy sulked into the kitchen, appearing very much dejected as Theo continued to pet Granger’s hair from her face while Draco continued to play with the tips of her fingers. Brushing them over his lips over and over.

“What’s the matter, Teddy?” Granger asked, that concerned look erased from her face.

Theo slid his arm around her shoulders and scoffed. “He’s mad because we wont let him go with Harry to check the wards around Flamel’s home.”

Teddy slid into a stool at the island and sighed. “I didn’t mean to fuck up.”

“Teddy,” Granger chastised.

“But we got the cross in the end, right?” He reached for a strawberry. “I learned my lesson.”

Draco looked at the boy, considered the young mans eagerness to prove himself. “But, you don’t need to hide under a cloak, Teddy.”

He scoffed and stuffed the strawberry into his mouth.

“Though,” Draco tilted his head. “I do wonder...if I asked you to morph into, I don’t know,” He paused and grinned. “Theo, for example. Could you?”

Teddy looked at Draco with interest and nodded. “Yeah.” He jerked his head at Theo. “Even his distinct eyes.”

Granger snorted and turned her head, stifling her laughter into Theo’s chest. Theo grinned proudly down at the top of her head.

“Well, then cousin, it seems that I have just the job for you.”

Teddy visibly pepped up and

The Potters entered the kitchen with Seamus.

“Zabini left.” Seamus said as he slid into a stool at the massive kitchen island.

“Finally.” Theo rolled his eyes.

“As you well know,” Ginny began to rifle through the cabinetry, pulling out pots and pans. “I am a mother and Harry is a father.”

“You don’t say.” Draco grinned and nipped at the tips of Granger’s pinky.

“And children, you know, they grow hungry.”

“Where are your children?” He tilted his head to look at Harry.

Harry slid into the stool beside Teddy. “They’re with George and Angelina. But I’m due to pick them up.”

“And?” Theo looked bored as he prompted them to get to their point, his fingers now combing through Granger’s soft curls.

“I’m going to bring them here for dinner.”

“Your children?” Theo shook his head. “This isn’t a place for children!”

“Oh, come now, Theo.” Draco was now looking over Ginny’s shoulder as she began to assemble produce onto middle of the island. “This place is perfect for them. There’s a swimming pool, lots of beds and I think there’s a swing set somewhere on the premise.”

“Are you suggesting we have a sleepover with the Potter children?”

Draco shrugged and reached for a juicy looking cherry tomato. “What do you think, Granger?” Draco asked her.

She nodded before she turned her gaze up to Theo who groaned, clearly outranked.

Draco chuckled and reached for another tomato as Ginny set down a stalk of celery.

Her hand smacked his greedy fingers away. “Go wash your hands if you want to help.”

“Help?” Draco watched her tie an apron around her waist.

“Yes, quick. I need you to start tenderizing the brisket.”

He frowned and stepped back, slightly appalled, dropping Granger’s hand. “I’m sorry, what?”

Ginny shooed him over to the sink prompting him to wash his hands.

But it was Granger’s laugh that launched him into action.

Dinner with the Potter children was a lively and educational event. For example, Draco learned that children tended to ask a lot of questions but didn’t ever actually wait for an answer. When Theo or Draco would attempt to answer the youngest's questions about their time as Slytherins, their words were lost to the musings of his own time in the Dungeon common room.

Often, conversation was lost to the chatter of the three children or the little bickering that would occur between the two boys. Teddy and their eldest, James, often fell into deep conversation about other children at school, mainly other witches.

But the Potters didn’t stay over at the massive house. Instead, Ginny forced the children to clean up the dishes before saying goodbye to each adult in the room. Draco never considered children before, but when he watched the way Granger beamed at the little ones, combined with their rather amusing antics, he started to understand the appeal. 

“It’s going to take at least two days to break those wards.” Granger said after dinner from her spot on the corner of a desk in one of the three studies in the manor.

Harry had told her that Flamel’s wards went at least 400 km out from his property line in every direction. Except for where his and Zabini’s property line met.

The group had tried the other two and found both of them lacking in comfort.

Theo was pacing the bookshelves on the east side of the room with a frown. “There’s no personality to these books,” to which Seamus snorted. Theo flipped a hand toward the shelf. “It’s all generic crap. Leather bound academic journals and I honestly think some of these are props.” He pulled a random book out and made a show of opening one. It didn’t open. He tossed it over his shoulder, and into the fireplace. “Prop.” He said in confirmation.

“This desk is too high.” Granger’s feet were dangling rather high from the floor.

Draco grinned because in his study, her feet didn’t reach the floor either, but she could easily slide onto it when she wanted.

He would most definitely not go down on her in this study. But he would most likely kiss there. Here, in this study, or in the kitchen, or the gym. In the halls in between each rooms.

Adjusting himself in the chair behind the desk, Draco frowned. “This chair doesn’t recline enough.”

There was, however, plenty of candy in the house. Draco had found a dish of squishy, fruity bear-shaped gummies that he found to be more enjoyable than the Flavored Beans he normally kept in his home.

Teddy was sprawled out on a chair, his feet propped on an ottoman. “Leather seats” he shuddered and shifted.

Draco lifted a brow at him.

“Too sticky.” He supplied with a grimace.

“I can probably weave a hole into the section of ward that butt up against Zabini’s.” Granger continued to muse.

She had that book in her lap. The one she was writing in back in his study. It was closed but she kept playing with the edges of the pages, as if eager to open it up.

“Theo and I can help while Seamus gets his station set up.” Draco nodded to where Seamus was currently tapping away at the keyboard.

“What about me?” Teddy asked as he fidgeted in his chair. The leather creaked and moaned beneath him.

“You’re going to disguise yourself as one of Flamel’s guards. As one of his guards, you’re going to find your way into his home and learn the ins and outs of the staff.”

Granger looked at him in alarm. “That’s risky.”

Teddy sniffed. “I can handle it.”

“Like you handled the museum alarm?” Theo frowned at him as he moved toward the desk.

“Teddy can handle it. Can’t you, cousin?”

Teddy grinned at his cousin with confidence. He jumped from his leather chair and nodded. “Don’t look so worried, aunt Hermione. This is my specialty.”

Draco realized, as Teddy swept from the room that he did have family but it wasn’t a family he grew up around. He had grown up around Theo and even Granger. His aunt Andromeda was not someone he knew. He wasn’t allowed to know her as a child but now, thanks to Potter and Granger, he was beginning to know someone who shared his blood. Someone who didn’t care what kind it was that ran through their veins.

Theo slid onto the other edge of the desk and eyed the book in Granger’s lap. “What is that you got there?”

Her fingers tightened around it and pulled it closer. “It’s my journal.” She sniffed, her chin jutting out.

“Liar.” Theo snorted.

It was true, he had seen her scribbling in the pages but when he had peaked over at the book, there was nothing but blank pages in front of her.

“You’ve charmed that book.” Draco noted as he picked out a little red bear.

“What do you write into that little book that has caused you to charm it?” Theo leaned closer as if eager to snatch it from her grasp. “Dear diary, today I got to hold Draco’s hand. I wondered what it might feel like on my bum.” Theo pitched his voice to try and match Granger’s range. “Dear diary, I found myself thinking of Theo’s distinct eyes while touching my—”

“Theo!”

Draco laughed openly at the blush that spread quickly from her cheeks to her neck. Seamus shook his head as his fingers stalled over the keys of his laptop.

“You’re a pig.” She sighed and opened the pages of her book. But Draco could see the deepening of the blush as she avoided their eyes'

Reaching over the desk, she grabbed a quill and began to scribble onto the page.

Hello, Harry. The words she wrote faded and began to reform text.

Hey ‘Mione. Did you see the note I sent earlier?

Draco hummed in appreciation. She had somehow charmed this book and allegedly one in Potter’s possession to pass notes without them ever being discovered.

“That’s quite useful.”

Granger nodded. “I thought so. I got the idea from Tom Riddle’s diary. Harry and I use it to pass information about the sex trade. He’s recently been tipped off from his contacts in South America that there has been an increase in activity over the last week with Flamel’s people.”

Theo scoffed. “And everything you write just vanishes?”

She nodded, clearly quite proud of herself.

“How come you and I don't have one?” He pushed his lip out in a pout.

“Why would I need one of these with you? We’re together every day.”

“Not at night.” Theo murmured with a sniff, causing Draco to chuckle.

“So, Flamel’s already moving to replenish his...inventory.” He noted gesturing down at the book where Harry’s handwriting had already vanished.

Granger grimaced. “Looks like it.”

“And you want Zabini to befriend him...” Draco started.

“So that he can be invited to one of these parties.” Theo finished.

She nodded. “I think that it may come in useful to have someone we know welcomed into the fold.”

Draco plucked up an orange bear and nodded as he leaned back in the chair. “Clever girl.”

Granger grinned and closed the book.

“I still want one of these.” He tapped on the cover of the book. “I’d never grow tired of it.”

“You’d end up abusing it.” Granger snorted.

“Writing to her at all hours of the night.” Draco agreed.

“Telling me how much you miss me.”

“Oh, you’d love it.” Theo swatted at the air between them. “Get Draco one, too. We could three way.”

Granger giggled, shaking her head.

Seamus sighed loudly and stood from the couch, holding his laptop. “Why don’t the three of you just do it already? Get it over with, so I can bloody concentrate!”

All three watched him stalk from the room, disappearing down the hall that led to one of the other studies, leaving Granger to erupt into a snort that quickly devolved into a hearty laugh.

Theo met Draco’s eyes and grinned.

[genebeanz]

THE SCIENCE WOMEN TRIO, Re: Feelings and Betrayal

Alright I'll bite. Here's my headcanons on the development of the relationships between Solaris, Fabricator, and Prism. I've been thinking of how they interacted with one another, with more focus to what happens Post-IEYTD 2 up to Post-IEYTD 3 (because that's when they have the most chances for interaction). A.K.A: I am not normal about these three. They are constantly revolving around my head.

Small spoilers for these games ahead!

SOLARIS & FABRICATOR

The duo with the most history, they've been working together for a While

Solaris is probably the only coworker Fabby openly respects/enjoys the company of. They have a lot of things to bond over

(Though Fabby's known to rag on Solaris a bit. "She's inelegant" type stuff. I think Solaris doesn't really mind it because Fabs still calls her darling and talks with her fondly and all that gay shit)

btw im not sure if they'd fully acknowledge the nature of their relationship. The idea of them being girlfriends at some point / them in perpetual pining are both fitting to me

Which is a bit surprising because of their differences, ESPECIALLY with regards to their loyalty to Zor

They do butt heads often when it comes to their projects, but a lot of the time they could see where the other one is coming from and in the end they find a way to compromise their visions

But I think their loyalty to the cause is a huge sore point between them

Solaris has always felt detached, while she's intimidated by Zor she has her own stuff to do. Though she's starting to think if she should really stick around in the first place (seeing as how quickly they disposed of Juniper after he turned his back at them)

And she's worried about Fabby and her undying loyalty. Yes she was basically Zor's right hand man, but when it comes to betrayal how can you really be sure...?

She may have tried to talk to her out of it, but Fabby has proven time and time again that she's not open to discussion

On the other hand Fabby has been trying to get Solaris to change her mind and GOD why doesn't she just want to be truly loyal to Zoraxis?! The only reason Solaris is scared, Fabby thinks, is that she's already at odds with Zor, if she kept that up they'll obviously betray her

IN MY Head this comes to a tipping point where Fabby told Solaris about their new scientist, Dr. Prism, and Fabby was already openly talking about Zor's plan to betray her. and Solaris is like oh no.

So she leaves. and then denounces zoraxis on the way out.

Fabby doesn't admit it (She'd never admit anything) but it felt like it was a personal betrayal, as much as it was a betrayal to Zoraxis

They were supposed to take on the world together...how could she leave so quickly?

and she thought ok. good fucking riddance. Zor tells her to think that. so she does

FABRICATOR & PRISM

Fabricator doesn't like Prism. She doesn't like how she's just in Zoraxis for the kinesium...if she used her skills for the true goals of Zoraxis she would've been much nicer to her

She doesn't want to bond. What is the Point. The one other person she trusted betrayed her. Besides they were going to betray Prism anyways. Nip em in the bud before they live long enough to pull a fast one on Them

Unfortunately, Prism reminds her so much of...the sun. She's smart, resourceful, ambitious, and her thirst for vengeance is admirable. She admits Prism's research is extensive and well-made

In time she eventually grows to respect her, even if begrudgingly. She's kind of mad at her for making her think this way about her like HOW FUCKING DARE

On the other hand. Prism. Dear sweet Prism. She's absolutely intimidated by Fabby and she tries to avoid being alone in her presence for too long. It's a bit hard because they're the ones that spend the most time together

Fabby hovers over her to an uncomfortable degree and she digs at her a lot. Prism has always had the idea that she's not someone to piss off so she tries to not. do that

She knows Fabs is a brilliant scientist but she had trouble with talking to her at first. She would be open about Fabby's opinions if she didn't lace her words with poison all the time

There's respect. and Fear. If there was a chance for them to really, truly bond...Prism doesn't know. Fabby doesn't make herself open to friendship and whatever so Prism doesn't try. I mean whY would she. For all she knows Fabby hates her guts

I'd think there was no time for her to change her opinion/get closer to Fabby because at that point she has been betrayed by Zor

And now she survived and she ran away

Fabby doesn't know what to think of it. To be honest. Maybe she's relieved that somehow she survived, despite everything. Why she'd feel that way...she has no time to dwell on that.

PRISM & SOLARIS

I think they'd (accidentally) meet post-IEYTD 3. Far far away from Zoraxis and the Agency

At the get-go I think they'd get along very, very well. Engineering women who's had awful, awful experiences in this one corporation they used to work for? That's neat, actually

They somewhat know of each other. Solaris left just before Prism got on the team, and Prism has heard stories of an ex-commander who piloted THE Death Engine

I think Prism would have also read the paper where Solaris denounced Zoraxis while Prism was working for them. She'd probably say she was blinded by vengeance for the Agency to get second thoughts.

Solaris feels bad for Prism, I think. There was a (small) length of time where she could have talked Prism out of what she's about to do. But she chose not to

Prism doesn't blame her, of course - they weren't close, and it was a hard time for Solaris. (Besides, she couldn't have undergone that character development if she was being reasonable, god forbid)

It's good for them to have someone to air out their Zoraxis experiences. It's nice to know you're not alone

At the back of her mind, Prism knows that Solaris and Fabby were . close. But that's not something people bring up out of the blue, damn

(Though knowing that Solaris left when she did made Prism think if this was related to how Fabby acted around her. Much to think about.)

Without the pretense of working for something I think they'd enjoy just hanging out, you know? Bonding about building contraptions and machinery for fun. For the first time in a while they feel relaxed about their craft

They'd find appreciation from one another. No more backhanded comments, looks of disappointment, fear of mistakes, total ignorance. If one of them screws up I think they'd just laugh it off and try to fix it together

They'd also share their interests, like Solaris talking about space and Prism talking about robits (and cocktail mixing) and such

Maybe Prism asks to crash at her place for an undisclosed amount of time and Solaris doesn't mind. In fact she likes her company. After moving to the countryside she hasn't really.. talked to anyone in a while.

These could be read as platonic/romantic sense btw I'm like. wow. give these women a break

And there you go! Science women polycule moment I guess!!! I actually haven't written something like this before, but it was really fun to just ramble what I want. Not sorry for the wall of text <3 Beaming you my headcanons you have NO choice

[whatanightmaregrinch]

MacCready X Fem!Sole Survivor- quiet love

“I love you.” The words came tumbling from her lips before she could stop them, and it stopped Robert in his tracks. He turned to gap at her, jaw slack with shock. Sole looked back at him with a mirrored look of sheer panic, heartbeat hammering in her throat from the adrenaline. She thought she should have blushed, but instead all of the blood drained from her face.

They’d been sat in silence for awhile after stopping in at Sole’s home- and to MacCready? He was just using the time to check his ammo stock, checking the quality of each casing, looking for undesirable marks and damages. He’d laid his stuff out on the floor, sitting cross legged and hunched forward, glowering over his supply. It was never enough bullets for his liking, and he bit back a bitter resentment at the thought. This was not a task that brought him joy, and only served to frustrate him. Sole though, Sole was enraptured by him. His small frown, his little hat strewn on the floor and his hair messy from combing through it with his fingers from sheer frustration. His eyebrows furrowed in a deep concentration, Sole loved every part of it. They’d been travelling together for nearly a year now, and he’d trusted her so openly with his problems with the Gunners, and then Duncan, and Lucy; it was difficult not too admire the man. He’d been through so much in such a short time, but still went through the effort to gruffly shadow her through the wasteland, watching her back with extreme efficiency. His once bitter exterior had melted away, and he’d confirmed it was all her doing. She’d felt so overwhelmed by these feelings, so overjoyed by his presence, she’d forcibly told him before perhaps either of them were ready. I love you didn’t really cut it for her either, had she had more control over it, she would have been far less blunt. Far more honest about the way she felt protected, the way his sarcastic demeanour never failed to amuse her. They did everything together. Eat, sleep, travel- she didn’t want anyone else to fill his shoes, but what she said was nowhere near as eloquent.

The box of .45’s he was sorting through remained silent observers in her confession. His hands pressed into his thighs as he tensed, as if to say something to her- but she was already standing up and MacCready’s voice cracked as he tried to get her to stop, stop and slow down: but she’d already disappeared out of the side door to the house and out into Sanctuary. He was left alone then, still half crouching on the floor from his surprised reaction. His heartbeat served as the only noise in the room, and even that too eventually quietened into a steady thrum. By now he’d moved to the sofa, sat stiff as a board, unable to relax. His head was swimming, she really had him fu-.. messed up. She really had him messed up. He hadn’t been sure what time it was that she left him, but it was almost night time now, and he’d long ago cooled off from being angry with her- angry at her for leaving him alone to deal with these feelings; angry that he’d not reacted better. Now it was gone, replaced only by a worry in the pit of his stomach. Where had she gone? Was sitting here, waiting for her to come back even worth it? MacCready picked at his fingernails idly, before desperately looking out the window. It was pitch black now, and he couldn’t see beyond the glow of the light on the porch that she’d installed months ago. MacCready hated it, thought it attracted too much attention. She’d waved off his concerns, refusing to explain initially. She’d finally relented that she’d always wanted one as a girl, she thought they were a nice idea. So that you could see home before you got there, she’d said sheepishly. He’d not admitted to her that he’d relented then, and had started to think it was a nice idea too. There was something quite lovely about the way she’d explained their function, the way he could tell she’d desperately wanted a home, a safe space to come back too, even in a horrible place like the wasteland. He wanted that too, and there was a longing, a horrendous ache in his bones that demanded he share that with her, the frozen vault dweller who had melted the ice that had formed around his heart. Without question she had taken him to the Med-tek research building that had haunted him for so long; destroyed the ferals in their way to get the cure into his hands. He trusted her enough to tell her what he couldn’t too Lucy; and in a way, that had helped heal him. He missed her terribly, but Sole had help soothed the terrible voice within him that whispered that he should have perished there with Lucy, his beautiful wife. That maybe he did deserve happiness, and Sole was the reason for it. He’d never expected her to want anything more with him, and he was fine with that. She’d already given him and Duncan so much, time they didn’t have before: and he more than anyone understood the grief of a widow. She rarely talked about Nate, and maybe that was his mistake because he talked about Lucy often once he’d ripped the bandaid off and told her about his guilt.

He’d been so deep in thought that he didn’t hear the makeshift door open to Sole’s home, and a soft fall of footsteps as she slowly and carefully made her way in. Slinking back to finally face the music, or maybe to avoid the situation if she could, she eyed the doorway that led to her bedroom. If she could just get there, she’d be spared any sort of embarrassment she’d earned in her absence. She regretted being gone for so long, but she dared not find out from her companion how ruined their relationship was. The first few hours of her disappearance was spent vomiting behind the Red Rocket Truck Stop; and when she’d got rid of everything in her stomach, she dry-heaved for awhile, flushed and sweating. She’d become close to Robert, and just knowing how much he talked about Lucy was enough to send her right back to vomit-territory. Nate had taunted her for awhile then, feeling horrendous guilt for just hoping he felt the same. Confused at her feelings, her mind lingering on the way Nate would smile at her, comparing it to how MacCready did. Her heart tightened, wondering if he could see her from wherever Kellogg had sent him too. What would he say? Would he be ashamed of her for falling so hard for the mercenary? She racked her brain long and hard, the wedding band she no longer wore burned a hole through her jacket pocket the longer she lingered on the question. She washed her mouth out and brushed her teeth in the bathroom, splashing her face with water. She barely pulled it together to make the short journey back to Sanctuary, resigned to her fate. She didn’t know if she was over Nate, or if MacCready even returned her affections, but whatever came her way, she must have deserved in some capacity, she supposed with some cynicism. Lingering for just a moment, she attempted the crossing between the kitchen to the hallway, but her foot hit a particularly old floorboard, and it groaned loudly at her weight.

MacCready snapped to attention, almost launching himself off of the sofa wildly as his brain came to focus on Sole. She seemed vaguely surprised at his reaction, but before she could respond he surged forward, nearly stumbling over his feet to get to her. Her resolve started to crumble with each step he took, heart hammering. “Robert, I-..” she started, but he just threw his arms around her in a crushing hug, bringing her cold form to his. She made a noise of shock, her mind going blank of what she wanted to say. Her face now buried in his chest, her arms awkwardly settled around him. He smelled like gun oil and wisps of tobacco smoke, and she decided she didn’t mind it. MacCready held her tightly, almost worried she’d run right back out the door; never to be seen again. Once he’d held her enough that his anxiety siphoned away into something smaller, it started to turn into frustration. “You’re an idiot” he began quietly, stepping back to look her in the face, and she stiffened. “Going out by yourself in the open was a stupid, stupid risk.What would you have done if something had happened?!” His voice wavered, unable to keep the fear from his voice. She guiltily looked at their feet. “Sorry, I just..” she muttered, not wanting to refer to it directly, the unspoken question still between them. His gaze softened, and he searched the air for what he wanted to say. “I’ve never-.. well, I’ve never wanted to think about us as more than friends.” He stated, and her heart snapped. Her chest seized painfully, and she started to nod, already accepting his answer, and he frustratedly held a hand up, indicating he wasn’t done. “I never wanted to think about us as more than friends, because.. well, because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. With your husband, I didn’t think there would be a chance, but you didn’t exactly give me time to explain that.” He admitted, unable to resist commenting on her absence. Sole flushed, nervously trying to piece together what he was telling her, glancing up at his face as he spoke. “But uh, I really like you, Sole. A lot. You helped me get Duncan back, even when you had the whole world on your shoulders. I used to feel like there was nothing here for me, that the world was just one giant shi-.. uh, crapstorm after the other. But I don’t feel that way anymore. Thanks to you. And if you’ll have me, then-.. then I want to keep feeling good, and share that with you. Share myself, I mean.” He confessed, a blush steadily blooming in his cheeks, his blue eyes almost electric in the lowlight and contrasted to the furious flush that warmed his face. Her own blush crept up from her neck, trying to keep her tone measured as she spoke. “It might be difficult sometimes; but if you’re willing to be patient with me, I’d-.. i’d really like to make this work.” She said with wavering confidence. He audaciously leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, her letting out a soft gasp in shock. He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back, soft in their newly professed love. She didn’t have all the answers, but if MacCready was by her side, then she was sure she could do anything. If not, he’d have her back. There was no other way she’d rather it be.