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syluriar · 2 days ago

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please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 1

sypnosis: you call sylus to escape caleb.

a/n: i know i'm not the only one who thought this, a lot of us sylus girlies wanted to call out man and get him our of sjyhaven ASAP. so i wrote this little fic for that, and as you can tell by the title this is just part 1. ofc that means there'll be a part 2, maybe a part 3??? let's wait and see :)

warning: caleb being possessive (yandere??). mc (you) feeling uncomfortable and scared of caleb. hurt and some comfort by sylus (i luv you<3 ). this is rushed and like all my fics, have no grammer check.

word count: 990

RING RING

The vibration of the phone rang loudly through the bathroom, the one place Caleb grants you privacy. More than one you were thankful that he wasn’t here, his duty calling him out to do some work, work that you don’t question anymore, exactly how he likes it.

“I’ll be back soon, Pip-squeak,” He said with a tone meaning for warmth, but you feel the opposite, especially when he looks at you with a smile, the one you remember from your childhood, but it’s not the same anymore.

“Don’t cause any ruckus, ok? We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

You shudder at the memory, the way his hand had gripped your wrist and dragged you to your bedroom and placed you not so gently on your bed, scolding you not following his orders and locked you in. He would only allow you to come out for food and he would watch you the whole time you ate, sending shivers of fear down your spine the more it went on. It lasted for two weeks, after that you had a bit more freedom, but every night he would announce it was time for you to sleep and lock you in the bedroom, the next would be the same.

And you hated it. You hated how different he was, how much he had changed since you last saw him. Where was the Caleb that joked around with you? The one that always picked you up when you were feeling down? The one that would wipe away your tears and hold you close?

Where’s one where you felt safe with?

Gone. He was all gone, and he scared you. You couldn’t stay here any longer, to try and get the old Caleb back. You had enough of being ordered around and being scared.

RING RING

Despite Caleb’s watchful eye you managed to snag a new phone as he confiscated yours, checking though all your data to make sure you couldn’t leave, Luckily you thought he would do that and got rid of anything that would get you into trouble; contacts, messages and pictures in your camera roll. So far he hasn’t commented on anything which you pat yourself on the back for.

Another thing your proud of is remembering a phone number, just one that you know would get you out of here.

RING RING

“Please pick up…” You whispered desperately. You have called the number twice now, and you hope people are right when people say third time's the charm, because you needed as much luck as possible right now.

RING RING -

“I must say your persistence to get hold of me is both annoying and -”

“Sylus!” You couldn’t hold back the happiness as you heard his voice, it had been so long since you last heard it.

“...Is that you, sweetie?”

“It is.” You answer, the endearing name making you blush instantly.

“Who’s phone are you calling on? Did you get a new phone and not tell me?”

“I’ll tell you that later but I need you to listen to me.” Time was of the essence, and you didn’t want to waste any of it. “I need you to track this phone and come help me.”

“Help you?” His tone held confusion. “What trouble have you gotten into now?”

“Don’t ask. I just need you to come to Skyhaven and get me out of here, fast.” You spoke hastily, you might have sounded desperate, but right now you don’t care.

“You sound weird, kitten. Are you alright?”

Trust him to take notice. “Please, Sylus. I can’t get out of here and I’m….” You take a deep breath, tears threatening to spill. “I’m scared.”

His answer was instant. “I’m coming, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out in no time.”

It’s like a weight is lifted off your shoulders, your heart is lighter and a smile graces your lips. “Thank you. Please hurry Sylus, I don’t like it here.”

“I can tell, sweetie. I’ll destroy everything if it means getting you out.”

“Maybe don’t go that far, there are innocent people here.”

“The ones that hold you against your will are nowhere near innocent.”

You grimace as you think about Caleb, a small piece of you feeling guilty for this, but you needed to get out of here, and if that meant hurting Caleb to escape…then so be it.

Looking at the time, you realise you’ve been left on your own for a while, and Calen would be due back soon. The last thing you wanted was for him to find you like this. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later?”

“As soon as possible, sweetie. I’ve been making arrangements since you first said you needed my help.”

You end the call quickly and stash within your period products, you knew that Caleb never came in your bathroom, but just in case he changed his mind, at least you knew he wouldn’t search through them.

But now your body is full of nerves, you can’t believe you managed to get through to Sylus, even more so that he’s coming to get you. You just have to wait and keep playing Caleb’s game till he comes, which he assured you will be as soon as possible. In Sylus’ language, that could be within a few minutes to an hour. You hope it’s the first option, but you were determined to wait if that’s what it took.

Before leaving the bathroom you remind yourself to go back to your usual personality that Caleb likes, if he see’s any of your happiness he’ll question it, and you don’t know how long you can lie and fake it for.

So you lower your excitement, lose your smile and take a few deep breaths to calm your beating heart. Once your assured that you’ve gone back to the obedience look, you open the bathroom door -

“Have a nice phone call, Pip-squeak?”

#mine #my writing #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #caleb #for us sylus girlies

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alilobsessive · 2 days ago

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The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x gender neutral reader #x reader #neglected reader #crow reader #villain reader

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reidsmanuscript · 2 days ago

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Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough though because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

Alex kept her voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

　　　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.

Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking.

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly.

　　　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　

The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him.

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were.

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else.

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile.

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously.

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass.

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.”

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

　　　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　

You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

　　　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　

Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

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meazalykov · 3 days ago

Text

car girl

jill roord x reader

the dutch needs her car fixed, and luckily she found the perfect person to do it for her

warnings: there might be incorrect information about cars on here, since I am not a mechanic. I had to do some research for this one <3

the air smells of oil and warm rubber, the scent of your garage always lingering on your skin no matter how many showers you take.

the radio hums in the background, some soft rock playing through the speakers as you apply a smooth layer of tint onto a customer’s car windows, your movements precise and careful.

your blue levi overalls are already stained with grease from an earlier job, but you do not care. it is part of the work, part of who you are. its come with the job i guess.

your hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail, keeping it out of your face as you concentrate. your hands, skilled and steady, press the tint firmly onto the glass, smoothing out any bubbles with practiced ease.

just as you are finishing up, the sound of a car pulling into the lot catches your attention. you glance up, wiping your hands on a rag, and immediately recognize the blue-gray mercedes.

vivianne.

she steps out of the driver’s seat, stretching slightly before shutting the door. the footballer’s blonde hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she is dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans.

it is not vivianne who captures your attention…it is the brunette stepping out of the passenger seat.

she is tall, with piercing eyes that sweep over your garage like she is taking it all in. the woman’s posture is relaxed but confident, and she carries herself with the kind of ease that tells you she knows she is attractive. this could be a good or a bad thing but you do not know yet.

your eyes briefly drop to her toned arms, the way her fitted top clings to her, before you look away.

vivianne smirks, immediately picking up on where your attention went.

“y/n,” she calls, walking over.

“this is jill.”

you wipe your hands on your overalls again before offering jill a nod.

“nice to meet you.”

jill’s lips curve into a smirk.

“i’ve heard about you,” she says, voice smooth.

“didn’t expect you to be this—” she pauses, her eyes dragging over you shamelessly, “—fine.”

vivianne groans.

“jill, for fuck’s sake!”

you let out a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

“this how you always introduce yourself?”

“only when the person is worth it.” jill grins.

vivianne rolls her eyes.

“anyway, we came here to you because jill’s got some issues with her car. i figured i’d bring her to the best.”

you tilt your head, glancing toward the sleek black audi parked next to vivianne’s car.

“what’s the issue?”

“been overheating like crazy,” jill says.

“i barely made it to training yesterday without it acting up.”

you nod, already suspecting the problem.

“bring it into the garage. i’ll take a look.”

jill drives it in while you grab your tools, pulling on a pair of gloves before popping the hood open. steam hisses out, confirming your suspicions. vivianne and jill stand off to the side, watching as you move with confidence, checking each component.

jill’s eyes never leave you.

“it’s your radiator,” you finally say, pulling off your gloves.

“it’s in bad shape. you’ll need a replacement.”

jill sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“great. how long’s that gonna take?”

“a few hours,” you answer.

“depends on how cooperative your car wants to be.”

vivianne groans dramatically.

“i was hoping we could go somewhere.”

“you still can,” you tell her.

“i’ve got this.”

jill smirks.

“you sure? wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone.”

you huff a laugh, shaking your head.

“i’ll be fine. go grab some food or something.”

vivianne and jill exchange a look before jill shrugs.

“guess we’ll be back later, then.”

as they leave, jill casts one last glance over her shoulder, her smirk widening when she catches you looking. you shake your head, turning back to the car, but you cannot help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

a few hours later, just as you are tightening the last bolt, the sound of footsteps echoes through the garage. you glance up, expecting to see vivianne and jill together, but it is just jill.

“viv went home,” the dutch woman says, leaning against the nearby tool bench.

“said she was tired. figured i’d come pick up my car myself.”

“convenient,” you muse, wiping your hands again.

jill grins.

“very.”

you pull off your gloves, tossing them onto the workbench.

“your car’s good to go. radiator’s replaced, and i checked your coolant levels too. shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”

jill nods, taking out her wallet. she pays without hesitation, but instead of just handing you the money, she also slides a small card across the counter.

you pick it up, frowning slightly.

“what’s this?”

“my number,” jill says simply.

you blink, glancing at the card, then back at her.

“you need me to check your car again or…?”

jill laughs, shaking her head.

“no. i want you to take me out.”

your eyebrows shoot up.

“oh.”

“yeah,” she continues, crossing her arms.

“figured since you’re single and all, i should take my chance.”

you huff a small laugh, shaking your head.

“oh my days…vivianne told you, huh?”

“yup.”

you exhale, staring at the card for a moment before slipping it into your pocket.

“alright, jill.” you meet her gaze, a smirk playing on your lips.

“guess i’ll be seeing you soon.”

jill grins.

“can’t wait.”

with that, she gets into her car, starts the engine, and pulls out of the garage.

you let out a breath, running a hand through your hair as you watch her leave.

maybe working late was not such a bad thing after all.

masterlist

#jill roord #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #manchester city #oranjeleeuwinnen #Jill roord x reader #dividers by kodaswrld #vivianne miedema #vivianne miedema x reader

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xwinterwidowx · 2 days ago

Text

so i decided to combine two fic ideas i had into one ginormous one-this took me like an hour so enjoy!

Shadow was never normal. He was raised by humans, his sister died, and above all, he was in love with his "rival". He wasn't exactly rivals with Sonic, but he fought him. He couldn't show emotion to save his life. But he was hopelessly, desperately in love with Sonic the Hedgehog.

One day, he was walking on a path somewhere he didn't know because Sonic was making him lose his mind. Sonic usually did that to him. It just took him a while to figure out that he didn't hate Sonic. He loved him.

He was walking when he saw this singular flower on the ground. He knew they were called daffodils. Maria probably taught him that, although he couldn't remember at the moment. He paused in his walk and picked it up. He looked at it, and his first thought was 'it looks like Sonic.' It's disgustingly bright yellow color made him think of how bubbly and energetic Sonic was. He quickly shook the thought out of his mind and continued to look at the flower. He stared at it for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He noticed another flower that looked the exact same and began walking towards it when his eyes landed on something that made his stomach drop.

It was a giant field of the same yellow flowers that Shadow thought looked like Sonic.

"You've got to be shitting me," he scoffed. Despite that, he walked into the field and sat down. He felt calmer there than he had in the past... ever. Except when he was with Sonic. That was always different. He would never admit it, but he loved being around Sonic. He loved seeing him doing literally anything. The two of them were actually close. Shadow just pretended that he hated him so he wouldn't have to admit his feelings to anyone. But he and Sonic were so alike it was almost scary sometimes. They had both lost people close to them, they'd both lost their homes. They'd bonded over that during late nights when neither of them could sleep. Shadow thought about those nights often and if they actually meant anything, or if it was just Sonic needing to talk to someone. Shadow laid in that field of Sonic flowers for a while before he headed back to the house.

"Shads, you're back! Where'd you go?" Sonic jumps off the couch he was sitting on when he sees Shadow walk in through the door. Shadow's heart beat mildly faster when he saw him.

"Just on a walk," he mumbles, heading upstairs, wanting to avoid talking to Sonic as much as he could. And for two weeks straight, he went to that field every single day, because he couldn't tell Sonic how he felt.

Could he?

Amy eventually helped him man hedgehog up and ask Sonic out.

"You just have to talk to him!"

"I don't know how to talk to myself! How do I talk to him?" Shadow hisses.

"I'll help you!" Amy smiled.

"Sonic?" Shadow walks into his room one day.

"Yeah, Shads?"

"Do you want to... go on a walk with me?" he asks nervously.

"Sure! Where are we going?" Sonic gets off his bed.

"To this place I found a few weeks ago."

"You found somewhere weeks ago and you didn't tell me?" Shadow rolls his eyes and starts walking. Amy is downstairs, giggling as she sees them walking off. Sonic follows Shadow, talking about things he didn't understand, but he listened nonetheless. Shadow gently nudged Sonic towards the direction of the field, and the second Sonic saw it, he shut up.

Sonic never shut up.

Shadow looked at him and let a small smile creep onto his face.

"Shadow, this is... beautiful," Sonic mumbled.

"Let's sit down." Shadow walked over to a spot where the flowers were less dense, so he wouldn't be sitting on any of them. Sonic rested his head on Shadow's shoulder, who in return moved slightly closer.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Because Amy told me to," he murmured.

"What?" Sonic looked up at him, confused.

"I asked Amy how I should ask you out, and she told me to take you somewhere I like. I found this place a few weeks ago, and I liked it because the flowers remind me of you. They're so bright and cheerful. Just like you." Sonic slowly smiled, looking at him.

"It took you too long to ask me out." Shadow scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

"Better late than never. Isn't that what you always say?"

"Don't quote me." Sonic kissed him, and they both roll over onto the flowers.

"You're annoying," Shadow mumbled.

"I know."

#sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #sonic #fanfic #sonic fandom #shadow #fanfics #shadonic #theyre adorable #your honor i love him #amy rose

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28harryssunflower · 1 day ago

Note

Could you maybe do an angsty one with a happy ending? Harry is mistreating/ not putting y/n or the relationship first. He gets defensive at first when y/n brings it up

I didn’t know what era you preferred, so I chose the 2017-ish era. Hope that’s fine! But in the end you can imagine whatever era lol. It’s just about the picture at the top!

Hope it matches your expectations xx

Gone but not forgotten

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when Harry made you feel like you were the most important thing in his world. He used to text you first thing in the morning, send you little voice notes throughout the day, and surprise you with coffee when he knew you had a long afternoon ahead. He used to come home and pull you into his arms like he needed you, like you were the best part of his day.

Now? Now, you felt like an afterthought.

It started slow - plans canceled at the last minute, phone calls ignored, messages left on read. Then it became days without a word from him. Nights where he barely acknowledged you. Excuses that felt emptier every time he spoke them.

And it wasn’t just the silence. It was how he treated you when he was home.

When you tried to talk, he barely listened, nodding absently as he scrolled through his phone. When you reached for him, he’d pull away, muttering that he was tired. He didn’t touch you the way he used to, didn’t look at you the way he used to. You felt invisible, like he had already walked out of the relationship but forgot to tell you.

And you tried. God, you tried.

You made his favorite dinners, hoping he’d sit and eat with you instead of disappearing into the bedroom. You asked him about his day, even when he never asked about yours. You pretended it didn’t hurt when he came home late and went straight to bed without so much as a goodnight.

But tonight, something inside you snapped.

It was nearly 2AM when he finally walked through the front door. You sat curled on the couch, staring at your phone, your last unanswered message still on the screen: When are you coming home?

He didn’t even look at you. Just sighed, kicked off his shoes, and dropped onto the couch like he was the one suffering.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, voice tight. “You don’t even look at me anymore.”

Harry barely reacted. Just ran a hand through his curls and muttered, “Not now.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Not now.”

“Can we not do this tonight?” he sighed.

“No, Harry. We are doing this tonight,” you snapped, standing up. “Because I am so tired of feeling like I don’t even exist to you.”

His jaw clenched, but he still wouldn’t look at you. “You’re being dramatic.”

Your heart cracked, but you pushed through. “Dramatic?” Your voice shook with anger. “I never see you. You don’t call, you don’t text, you barely talk to me. You’re home maybe twice a week, and when you are, you don’t even fucking acknowledge me.”

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Busy?” You let out a hollow laugh. “You’re always busy, Harry. But you’re never too busy for your friends. You’re never too busy for a night out. You’re never too busy to go to some fucking fashion event. You’re only ever too busy for me.”

His eyes snapped to yours, irritation flashing in them. “That’s not true.”

“It is true!” you shot back. “Do you even realize the last time we spent a full day together? The last time we had an actual conversation that wasn’t just me asking for your time?”

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Christ, I can’t do this right now.”

Your whole body stiffened. “You never want to do this. You never want to talk. You just expect me to sit here and accept the fact that I don’t fucking matter to you anymore.”

His expression darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is how I’ve felt these past few months,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You put everything before me. I feel like I don’t even fucking exist to you anymore!”

“You know that’s not true,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do I?” You scoffed. “Because every single thing in your life comes first. The studio, the tour, your career, your friends. Fucking Christ, strangers get more of you than I do. I don’t even know if you love me anymore.”

Harry’s face twisted with frustration. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! I am dead serious! Because I’ve spent months wondering what the hell I did wrong! If I wasn’t pretty enough, if I wasn’t good enough. If you just fucking stopped loving me and didn’t have the decency to tell me.”

His whole body went still.

You swallowed hard, trying to stop your voice from shaking. “Do you have any idea what that feels like? To sit alone every night, wondering why you’re not enough for the person you love? To look in the mirror and hate yourself because you think you are the problem?” Your breath hitched, the weight of it all crashing down. “And the worst part? You let me. You let me believe that I wasn’t worth your time.”

Silence.

Harry just stared at you, his face pale, his lips slightly parted. He looked like you had just shattered something inside him.

And then the tears came. You broke, a sob ripping through your chest as you clutched your arms around yourself, trying to hold it all in. But then, suddenly, Harry was there.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You tensed at first, but then the warmth of his embrace shattered whatever restraint you had left. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest, sobbing so hard your whole body shook.

He held you like he was afraid you’d disappear. His hands ran up and down your back, his lips pressed into your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You clung to him, gripping his hoodie, letting out every tear you had held back for months.

After what felt like forever, your sobs quieted. The exhaustion hit you like a wave, and Harry pulled you down onto the couch with him, tucking you into his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around you like he was afraid to let go.

“I never stopped loving you,” he murmured after a long silence. His voice was hoarse, like he had to force the words out. “I was just so caught up in everything, I- I didn’t see what I was doing to you.” He swallowed hard. “I hate that I made you feel that way. That I made you question yourself.”

You closed your eyes, your body still trembling. “You hurt me, Harry.”

“I know,” he whispered. His grip tightened around you. “I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

You wanted to believe him

For now, you just let yourself breathe in his warmth, hoping that this time, he meant it.

The morning after the argument, you woke up to the sound of quiet movement in the kitchen. For a second, you thought you had imagined it. Harry was never up before you. But when you peeked into the kitchen, there he was.

He was standing by the stove, shirt rumpled, hair a mess, clumsily flipping pancakes.

It wasn’t perfect. There was flour on the counter, a sticky bottle of syrup sitting dangerously close to the edge, and from the slightly burnt smell, it was clear this wasn’t his first attempt. But when he turned around and saw you standing there, something in his face softened.

“Hey,” he said, almost hesitant.

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh… I figured you shouldn’t have to wake up alone again.”

Your heart clenched.

You wanted to be mad. Wanted to remind him that one breakfast wouldn’t erase months of neglect. But the sincerity in his voice, the way his green eyes searched yours like he was hoping you wouldn’t push him away - it made something in you thaw, just a little.

So you sat down, letting him serve you the most uneven stack of pancakes you’d ever seen. And when he poured your coffee just the way you liked it, remembering exactly how much sugar to add, you realized: He was trying.

That’s what the next few weeks were.

Small things, big efforts.

At first, it was just tiny changes - goodnight texts when he was at the studio late, longer hugs when he came home, soft kisses pressed into your hair when he thought you were asleep. He started noticing you again. Asking how your day was. Actually listening to your answers.

Then, the changes got bigger.

One night, when you were curled up on the couch scrolling through your phone, Harry sat down beside you and nudged your leg with his knee.

“Let’s go out tomorrow,” he said.

You glanced at him in surprise. “Out?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Like a real date. Dinner, maybe a movie after. Whatever you want.”

You stared at him, half expecting him to say just kidding. But he didn’t. He just looked at you with this quiet determination, like he wanted to do this, like he needed to.

So you said yes.

And when the date actually happened, when he held your hand the entire time and kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe he had let himself drift so far away from you - you felt the smallest flicker of hope.

The intimacy was the last thing to return.

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t touch you - he did. But there was a hesitancy now, a carefulness, like he was afraid to push too soon.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling, you whispered, “Why are you being so careful with me?”

Harry turned his head, his eyes heavy with guilt. “Because I don’t deserve to hold you the way I used to.”

Your chest tightened.

You turned on your side to face him, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm. “I still want you to.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” you murmured. “Not if you keep trying.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was hesitant, but when you leaned into it, he let out a shaky breath - like he had been holding it for weeks. Then he softly and carefully connected your lips.

And when he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his lips pressing into the top of your head - you felt, for the first time in a long time, like maybe things could really be okay again.

Not perfect. Not yet.

But better.

And for now, that was enough.

#harry styles #one direction #short story #headcanon #one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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undomesticated-animal · 2 days ago

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Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

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thatbitchery · 2 days ago

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Last night decided to give in to the pressure and watch Love is Blind Habibi 100% for Nour because apparently we are bringing feminine and classy back and now see I know the bar is in hell I really do and I will give credit where credit is du ma'am knows how to hold herself but then she did the dumb girl thing and I had to pause the show and take a walk around town to cool down the second hand embarrassment of someone that seems to have it all just- falling apart but on national TV.

Ladies we DO NOT tell people our standards we live by them and they either match up or fall off. When ma'am said she does not pay the bill she needs to- I had to go take a breather and recollect myself because. Ma'am. 100% of all the crap she went through on that show would have been avoided if she wasn't trying so hard to be this season's IT girl (it worked though, she is. So from a marketing perspective - 10/10). We do NOT tell people what our standards and expectations are we live them and either they are it or they are NOT.

Shut Up and Do You then go home.

EVERYTHING. EVERY single THING that you say not only can but will, as a matter of undeniable and unavoidable fact, WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU in the court of social groups. Learn to SHUT your mouth. This is where therapists and I don't match up, they want you to be open and communicate and I want you to (in real life)

NEVER part with a fact unless you have to

Shut uppppp and observe

After initial outspreading, DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU'RE SPOKEN TO

If you can't do this have an anon account on here and on Instagram or something and yap and say all that and be real so you can satisfy that need/desire and move on be a baddie IRL.

Human and literally animal communication is non verbal/literate. Even before you say anything subconsciously we have you boxed, but we can't quite put a finger on what we already know. Like that weird guy said in that equally weird interview- the thing with Noor is that she's a liar. Her actions do not match her words. She's fake. Because Queens don't tell kings treat me like a queen it just happens. Because queens live like Queens and everyone just automatically fall inro service.

If i had a dollar for every time I was told 'I told him/ her I don't like X and they still did it and now I'm hurt' uh huh and you deserve it. And I pray to God it keeps happening till you learn your lesson and stop being embarrasing.

Human beings- specifically men, are naturally competitive and combative. They want to turn No into Yes. When you tell a man no he automatically wants to make it a yes if they didn't we as a species would have died when the meat said no don't hunt me and they said aight bro bye. It takes combat to be a hunter. It's instinct. Notice how when you tell a man something they do the exact opposite. It's instinct. Outside men it's human and animal instinct to want to survive for longer by preserving energy so people naturally push boundaries & you see it so much in kids when you say don't do that and they do it looking at you to see if they can preserve the energy of not doing that by just overruning you. People are naturally combative we pyush boundaries that's why we have aeroplanes someone pushed the walking boundary.

No oneee wants to be told what to do. No oneeeeee. Not even you. It's degrading. It assumes you have no free will or the comprehension to exercise it and naturally people will fight back to maintain their independence.

You do know you're teaching people how to manipulate you do ypu not? By telling them what you like or dislike from the onset you take away the requirement to work hard to know you and handing them yourself on a platter. You tell a man you like flowers you give him a great path to just manipulate you bc now he can just buy you them whenever you're mad and it's good? If you shut it he'd have had to figure that out which would stress him which would force him to cherish you because he had to work? When you tell a girl 'don't talk to me like that' you teach her how to tick and trigger you but if you'd just walked out or shut her out she'd have had to make her way back?

I don't have standards for men because I have standards for me. Or friends or family. I'm a narcissist so I run everything by me to decide if it's worth it or not and just remove myself? I buy myself flowers sir? I don't talk to myself like that? I don't do that to me why the fuck would you think you can?

Shut. It.

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wolls-angel · 9 hours ago

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୨୧ ‧₊˚ what took so long? - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: After almost 20 years of pining, it finally happens... request: in desperate need of jo woll childhood best friends to lovers. like i’m talking best friends since birth, and then admit they’re in love with each other at age 26. biggest slow burn ever 😫 word count: 1.6k warning(s):fluff, cheating (not between joe and reader), not much dialogue, longer than normal, not proof read notes: i have a love hate relationship with this fic. joe is so cute in it so i like it more. lmk what you think. i hope you love it !! xoxo

Everyone knows Joseph Woll as a hockey superstar. Young guy with his whole hockey career ahead of him. One of the most promising young goalies in the NHL. It's true. He is all of that. But to you, he's Joey.

You met Joe when you moved into your grandparents house. You were 8. Joe was the son of your grandmother's cleaning lady and she was eager to introduce the two of you. "It's nice when you have someone you know in a new situation," you remember her saying.

It was summer, so Shelley invited you over to her house to meet Joe and her other kids, Michael and Emma. You were sold when she said they had a swimming pool.

A few days later, she picked you up with Joe and Emma in the car and drove you to the Dunkin' near Joe's house. At this point, you and Joe had only exchanged one word. You both ordered the same thing (a lemonade) and your remember looking over at him and smiling. It was the first time you saw his face in full and, even at eight years old, you could tell it would be the end of you.

Your friendship only grew as you went to school together for years, learning all about each other and you just kept falling for him. You went to all his hockey games, helped him with his English homework, gave him advice about girls (even though he never took it). You watched him grow into a gorgeous, 6'4, kind, compassionate and respectful man. The man he is today.

As teenagers, you tried confessing your love so many times but your fear always paralysed you before you told him anything. What if he said no? What if he didn't want you? What if it ruined the friendship you had worked so hard to develop? It wasn't a risk you were willing to take.

All the way through high school, Joe never had a girlfriend. He would have a crush here or there but never pursued it. He always made up an excuse as to why he couldn't take a girl out.

"I'm too busy with hockey" was the usual response when they asked about his love life. Then his family would look at you and smile, as if to say "Well, she's right there".

You never dated either. For a much different reason though. You just kept holding out hope. Always thinking maybe that Valentine's day he would ask you. It never happened. And it wasn't even like you couldn't have went out. People were always asking you. It just wasn't Joe.

Joe took you to prom because neither of you had partners to go with. It was his mom's idea but he wasn't upset about it. You wore a beautiful dark red gown and had your hair in an updo, very stylish at the time. Joe knew you wanted the night to be special so he saved up to rent a limo. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted.

"It's the least I can do. You're going to the prom with me."

Joe also took you to the NHL draft with him in 2016. You remember the look on his face like it was yesterday. It was exactly where he wanted to be. An NHL prospect.

The next few years were hard. You went off to university in New York City while Joe went to train with the Toronto Maple Leafs. You would visit each other as often as you could. You'd go up for reading week. He'd come down for Spring Break. Things like that.

Summer was really the only time you would both spend time in your hometown. You would go boating with Joe, babysit his little sister, go to a party or a bar. It was nice. It felt like in the midst of all this change, there was something normal.

Then, in your third year at NYU, you met Charlie. He was kind, tall handsome and a pre med major. You met him at a cafe near campus, where you were both studying for midterms. He asked you out and you realized it was kinda embarrassing to keep waiting for Joe when he lived so far. He probably had a girlfriend. He just didn't care enough to tell you.

Charlie took you out one Friday after your lecture and swept you off your feet. He was a true gentleman. And you were happy. You called Joe a few days after you and Charlie made it official to tell him the good news.

"Oh... wow, Y/N, that's... amazing. I'm so happy for you," is all he said.

You were too happy to question Joe's sad tone or his hesitation in congratulating you. You were too happy. Your relationship with Charlie only lasted 3 months though.

You had made plans to meet Charlie at his place after your lecture. You had ended early because you had a headache and wanted to just chill before you went out for your 3 month anniversary dinner. Long story short, you caught him cheating. On your anniversary with some girl from his bio class.

You were heartbroken.

But enough about the past. Let's jump to the present.

Joe's NHL debut. You were so excited to get your mind off the break up and the fact that you needed to find a job after graduation. You just wanted to see Joe and support him. Fittingly, the game was against St. Louis and all of Joe's family and friends came to support him.

The game was amazing. Toronto won 3-2 in overtime, but Joe saved 32 shots. You could tell how proud the rest of the team was during the hug line. Joe didn't know you were there to watch him so after the game, you and his mom left to take you home to surprise him.

Once there you hide behind the couch in the living room. Joe walks in and the whole room explodes with applause and congratulations from his friends and family. You can't hold it in any longer and...

Oof.

You run into Joe at full speed, knocking him off balance.

"Wha-... Y/N?", he says, in complete shock. You giggle into his chest, squeezing him tight, "Hey, Joey. Miss me?". The smile on his face when you look up could have blinded you. Almost immediately, he engulfs you in the biggest hug possible. "Fuck yeah, I missed you," he mumbles, his head buried in your neck. After a second or two he lets go and you two enjoy the party as usual. That is, until right after dinner.

"Y/N, can we chat in the other room?"

You feel a hand grab your wrist. It's Joe. You brow furrows in confusion but you nod and he pulls you hastily into his bedroom. He motions for you to sit on the bed while he closes the door.

"I missed you, Y/N. How's school?" he sits down beside you. "Good. I'm so ready to be done," you respond with a smile. "Maybe when you're done, you can move up here. Be near me again". You giggle, "I'd love that, Joey".

"So, no Charlie today?"

You sigh. Right. Charlie. "Uh, no. We broke up a few weeks ago," you look up at Joe and his eyes soften. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you ok? What happened?". You feel you eyes well with tears. "He cheated on me. With some girl in his class," you sniffle and lean into Joe, "I was finally happy, you know? Not just waiting".

"Waiting?" he asks, "Waiting for what?"

Shit. You have said too much. You look down at your hands, sitting in your lap, "Nothing, don't worry about it".

"Y/N, tell me," he places his hand on your chin to force you to look up at him, "I have known you for almost 20 years. I can tell when something's wrong".

You look into his eyes and realize maybe it's time you were honest with Joe. What's the worst thing that happens? He says no and things stay the same. Maybe.

You get up and stand in front of Joe who is still sitting on the bed. "I have been waiting my whole entire life to say these words, but I'm scared and I have every reason to be. You are my best friend, Joe, and I don't want stuff to be awkward between us. But I may have had too much beer earlier at the game and I'm a little tipsy so fuck it. I have been waiting for you. To ask me out. To care. To love me the way I have loved you since we met when we were 10 years old. And I have never been sure if you wanted me but I talked to my therapist last week and she asked me what I wanted and all I could think of was you. I want you, Joseph Woll. So if this is the end of our friendship, so be it, but I want you to know that I want you to want me, Joe. It's ok if you don't but," you pause and collapse down onto the bed beside him, face in your hands, "I don't know. I'm so sorry".

There is a few beats of silence before Joe speaks.

"Y/N, baby, what took so long?"

You freeze. Huh? What? Excuse me? You look up at Joe, bewildered, and all he does is smile. And then he leans in and before you know, his lips connect with yours. His lips are oddly soft and all you can smell is his cologne. You let yourself melt into him and he feels like home. Where you were always meant to be. Suddenly, Joe whispers into the kiss, "I want you too, Y/N. I really do".

#⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angel writes #⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angel writes; joey #joseph woll imagine #joseph woll fluff #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll #jw60 imagine #jw60 x reader #jw60 #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl #nhl fluff #nhl x y/n #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine

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haechanhues · 1 day ago

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chapter twenty seven : stale

*written*

word count : 1.2k

warnings : i really tried not to bait you lot this chapter. but nothing really to warn you about...

You knew you were cowardly, and even if you didn’t know - you had your sister telling you just how out of control for no reason you were. She even opted to ‘punish’ you by depriving you of the girls - for a girl that loved women’s wrongs she sure was acting like your wrongs were wrong.

But you still avoided him, despite it all.

You finally had a chat with Mark, who had waved off your apologies with a ‘it’s all good’ but you still felt a guilty conscience. He asked if you wanted to hang out with him, but you really wanted to avoid any sort of situation, so you refused. Even though you actually really wanted it.

Jaemin didn’t want to hang out as he was hungover. He pleaded the fifth when you suspected that he replaced your spot for girls’ night. He refused to take a photo or send his location as proof.

Jisung was spending time with his roster. Not all at once, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they herded around him, hearing some of his stories you wouldn’t be surprised if he swooped them all up at once.

Haechan - well. Can’t really hang out with him if you’re avoiding him, right?

So even though you knew Chenle’s ass was stuck in front of his computer screen, the scent of stale food and the despair of minimal sunlight clawing at you, you still asked, “Can I hang out here?’

Chenle nodded, though with a raised eyebrow, “Yeah. But we’re not leaving for the whole day.”

You’re pretty sure you grimaced, but you agreed. So while Chenle was there, you migrated into the living room - used the fuck out of the overhead roof speakers you were enamoured by and ate all his food. Made a checklist of all the foods that he needed. Went to go get them. Anything to occupy the time till you had to go back to his room again. Had to because you wanted one of your friends around, right now. Even if they were busy playing FIFA and GTA 5 and all the shit he was playing yesterday and the day before.

Migrating back to the travesty that is Chenle’s room and watching him play, you help yourself to his unmade but incredibly soft bed sheets, nestling yourself in between his pillows and taking photos of yourself on Chenle’s phone, right before doom scrolling through your own.

The knocking on the door is sharp, and you nudge Chenle to which he furrows his eyebrows with so much intensity you’re afraid he’s going to stay like that for the rest of his life, “Can you get that for me, please? It’s takeout. I got us food.”

He hands you his card, though you don’t think you need it, but you take it anyway, just in case you decide to have a little midnight snack run with his money or maybe you could buy something with his lapto-

Oh.

Not takeout.

It was unpredictable. But it wasn’t. You’re not even that surprised when you open the door to an angry Haechan, the crease in his eyebrows set in stone. There’s none of the Haechan you bicker with or tease. None of the Haechan who’s still reasonable even if he hates your guts.

In fact, he looks like he really does hate your guts.

He exhales sharply, lips slightly pouting as he steps forward, loathing the way you take a step back to ‘protect’ yourself from him. Avoid him further. Even though he knows exactly where you are and who you’re with.

But his eyes.

The colour that you think of when you think of words that should not belong in a relationship the two of you have.

But, you think of it.

“I’m sick of you,” Haechan spits, the words so harsh the back of your head collides with the wall with a slightly painful thump. You swallow as his facial expression remains the same.

His hands are in his dress pant pockets, his shirt a simple blouse that would make you curious at any other time. His hair is soft and the type you want nothing more but to run your hands through.

What you don’t notice is the quick drop of his focus from your eyes to your lips, all because you’re too busy with his forceful kiss, only slowing down at the return of your own kiss.

He inhales, like he’s the one surprised, as if he didn’t predict he’d get this far. Then, his body rolls further into your space. His true vulnerability sneaks out of him without giving him a chance to chase after it, embracing you as if you’re a thought he doesn’t want to pass.

A moment he doesn’t want to let go of.

You’re faded. Suffering from the hallucinogenic drug that is Lee Haechan because you want nothing more but to wrap him up within your hold and hold him there.

He pulls away slowly, watching as your eyes flutter open, half lidded and dazed, and he almost smiles for a minute. You’re driving him crazy and there’s a part of him that doesn’t hate it.

But he doesn’t know if it’s bigger than the part of him that hates the shit out of it.

“Avoid me again,” He snaps, “I fucking dare you.”

He barges past you, footsteps stomping down the corridor all the way to Chenle’s room for all of one second before he returns to the living room, staring you down as you stand idly by at the entrance.

“Sit down.”

Obediently, you follow so you’re in front of him, watching as his eyes burn straight into you. For a brief moment, you wish he would save his anger to fuck the shit out of your pussy but you don’t say a word about it.

His fists clench and unclench, “Why are you avoiding me?”

Your face drops and you find the edge of Chenle’s floor carpet really interesting. Nice pattern-ish. Kind of.

“Didn’t come?” He laughs, though no mirth attached at all, “I could’ve fucking returned the favour, Y/N. You know I could.”

“I don’t care about not coming!” You don’t know why it offends you, but it really doesn’t fucking matter as much as he thinks. What Joy thinks. It used to, infuriatingly so. Maybe it was just because you trusted his capabilities.

He raises his eyebrow, “I’m serious. I’ll do it right on this couch if I have to. Your control.”

You shake your head, even though you really want to take him up on that offer.

“No it’s just- you said some sappy shit to me…”

His face turns serious, “And you got uncomfortable.”

“No, I wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just weird, considering…” Your hand refers back to the two of you, “But I was like…on top of the world about it and then I just came to realise things.”

He smiles at you, though borderline fake, “That was probably due to the sex. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m quite good at it.”

And because the look is back in his eyes and because it's like second nature to you, you make fun of him, “Clearly not, since I didn’t come.”

The look he gives you, marred with bickering, evil thoughts and emotions running wild, it’s all just….the two of you.

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter twenty seven: stale

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#nct social au #nct x reader #nct fic #haechan x reader #nct fluff #haechan fluff #nct smut #haechan smut #nct angst #haechan angst #haechan smau #nct dream social au #nct dream social media au #nct imagines #haechan imagines #nct scenarios #haechan scenarios

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lu-is-not-ok · 2 days ago

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I may have sent this before, but may I give the thought of Star Luminary for hong lu's waw? I'm not super certain on it for 'em, but I feel like with how his canto refers to a sundering there'll be a case that he can't go home anymore.

as a bonus, it fits our last waw reciever to a T.

Well, for one, it's not Sundered, it's Surrendered, which to me moreso implies that Hong Lu will have no choice but to be surrendered back to his home or otherwise have no agency in what's happening, which fits what his position in the Family is implied to be, that being one lacking agency.

Either way, let's take a look at Star Luminary.

I believe we're dealing with two major themes here - the themes of perception affecting the essence of things and the themes of wishing to go back to something that no longer exists. We're also dealing with a minor motif of fortune telling.

Let's get the fortune telling motif out of the way. This motif is primarily within the E.G.O gifts associated with the Abnormality, that being Tomorrow's Fortune, the crystal ball directly given by it, and Oracle, a small blue star surrounded by cosmic clouds, which while Not directly tied to Star Luminary just yet, has enough pointers implying they might be connected. This motif could also be seen through the Abnormality being described to be saying things as if they knew what the players was thinking.

The two major themes are exemplified in the different choices you can make with the Abnormality in its MD Event.

The choice to deny the marbles being stars results in an exploration of the first theme. Regardless of whether you succeed the skill check or not, the core of what Star Luminary says is the same - stars are what you percieve them as, what they are in your mind. If you see them as marbles, then that's how you see them and that's what they are to you. There's a sort of subtle duality to this idea, as in both results the orbs are essentially both marbles and stars at the same time.

The second choice, the one to agree that they are stars, lets us explore the second theme. Similarly to the previous one, regardless of whether you succeed the skill check or not, Star Luminary admits to wishing to go back to the blue star. A failure of the skill check will result in the Abnormality admitting that it can no longer go back, that the only thing it can do is try to become a star itself. A success on the other hand gives an interesting bit of text from the player's perspective - "You have no idea where it may be, and you certainly aren't from it, but you feel the urge to go back to it." The Blue Star isn't necessarily a 'home', but something that compels people to 'come back to it' anyway.

So, with all of that laid out... Yeah. Yeah I can definitely see Hong Lu fitting an E.G.O from this Abnormality.

The motif of duality is already a constant for Hong Lu, and the idea of perception affecting the essence of things fits very well with the "Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true. Real become not-real when the unreal's real." motif of DOTRC that I believe is likely to play a big role in Hong Lu's Canto.

I could also see the second theme applying to Hong Lu, though not in the straightforward manner you imply it to. As is tradition of me at this point to connect everything to them, I believe this motif could apply to Baoyu's feelings about Daiyu. Daiyu is Baoyu's 'Blue Star' that he can't go back to, due to what is essentially their death. And, in the case of Two in One, just like Star Luminary can only try to become a star itself by emitting a similar glow, Baoyu can only carry Daiyu with him through bearing their visage.

Hell, even the minor motif of fortune telling works with him, and not just because his chosen emoji is a Crystal Ball. Hong Lu has this minor tendency to act as if he already knows what's going to happen. There's of course the TKT bit where he seems disappointed that things went according to plan, calling the world "as familiar and changeless as ever" in response. But it actually goes back much further. All the way back in Canto 2, Hong Lu seems to already be aware of the Sinners' exact destination for the Canto, even though the following conversation between Vergilius and Outis shows no Sinners were actually informed about that until after he makes a comment.

So. Yeah! It genuinely works shockingly well!

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu #hong lu lcb #star luminary #lcb analysis

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ohnoyuno · 2 days ago

Text

Thread of a Promise

Pairing: jung jaehyun x female reader Genre: angst, established relationship Warnings: unresolved feelings, emotional tension Word Count: 2917

Summary: Jaehyun cancels on Y/N for the third time, leaving her heartbroken and giving him the silent treatment as she was unable to bear the repeated disappointment. On the day of NCT’s concert, their emotions came to a head, and through Y/N’s quiet yet heartfelt actions, Jaehyun finally understood the depth of her hurt.

26 August 2023

It was d-day of NCT’s first ever concert as a whole group, NCT Nation: To The World.

You got up at the crack of dawn, determined to prepare your signature kimbap for the boys. It was your way of cheering them on, and in your words, the kimbap would give them the extra energy they needed for the big night. You had always believed that food had a magical way of bringing people together, especially when it was made with love.

It took you a while to prepare the food, glancing at the clock every now and then to make sure that you were on schedule. After carefully wrapping each roll and feeling satisfied that everything was in order, you packed the kimbap into its containers before cleaning up the kitchen and putting everything away. With the kitchen now spotless, you then went to get yourself ready for the day.

Once everything was packed and prepared, you set off on the drive to Incheon, eager to deliver the carefully made kimbap to the boys.

After nearly an hour and a half on the road, you arrived at Incheon Munhak Stadium, where the concert would soon take place. As you pulled into the parking lot, one of your manager friends was already waiting to hand you the backstage pass.

With the pass secured, you wasted no time making your way to the waiting room, greeting the staff along the way and handing out the kimbap you had prepared for them. You also made sure to pack portions for the Dreamies, Visions, and Wishes as well, passing them to their respective managers.

As you reached the door to Illichil's waiting room, Haechan was the first to spot you.

“Noona! You’re finally here! We thought you weren’t coming.” he exclaimed, bouncing on his feet.

You let out a small laugh, adjusting the bag in your hands. “Sorry! Got caught in traffic, but there’s no way I’d miss this.”

Haechan grinned, stepping aside to let you in. “Good, because we need all the energy we can get today.” he said, peeking into the bag you were carrying. “Wait—don’t tell me… is this what I think it is?”

“Of course. My kimbap is your secret weapon, right?” you chuckled.

Just as Haechan was about to respond, the rest of Illichil turned their heads toward the door. “Did I just hear someone say kimbap?” In an instant, Jungwoo appeared at the doorway, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “You really did bring it!”

“You act like I wouldn’t.” you teased, handing him the bag of food. “You guys need all the energy you can get today.”

Yuta, who had been lounging on the couch, smirked as he stood up and stretched. “Our lucky charm never disappoints.”

Jaehyun, still in the midst of getting his makeup done in the corner, kept his eyes on you through the mirror, silently waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you finally did, your smile faltered. It was only a brief glance—almost dismissive, as if he wasn’t even there.

His grip on the armrest tightened slightly, but before he could dwell on it, Taeyong walked in, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. “Hey, you’re here.” he said, his voice gentle while pulling you into a hug. “We really appreciate this.”

“You always take care of us.” Doyoung added, already opening the containers to set up the table with the neatly rolled kimbap.

“Someone has to.” You forced a small smile, nudging him lightly.

Jaehyun remained quiet, still seated at the dressing table as the room buzzed with energy. The members gathered around the table, chatting excitedly as they got ready to dig into the kimbap you had brought.

Mark, fresh from finishing his makeup, walked over and glanced at Jaehyun on his way. “Hyung, come eat!” he called, motioning for him to join.

Jaehyun hesitated for a brief second before finally getting up, strolling over at an unhurried pace. His eyes flickered to the empty chair beside you, the only available seat left. It was clear the members had left it open for him.

But instead of sitting down, he turned to Haechan. “Haechan-ah, go over.” he said casually. “I want to sit under the fan.”

Haechan blinked up at him. “Huh? But—”

"Just move." Jaehyun muttered, his frustration evident as he gestured for Haechan to switch seats, choosing the spot furthest from you.

You didn’t react, merely continuing to pass out the food with an unreadable expression.

The tension between you and Jaehyun has been building for a while now. It had been a week since you last spoke—ever since he stood you up on your date for the third time.

On the morning of your scheduled date, you were having your weekly breakfast with Taeyong when your phone buzzed. You glanced down to find a message from Jaehyun: “Something came up. I’m sorry.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and without thinking, you slammed your phone face down on the table.

Taeyong raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You tried to mask your disappointment with a forced smile, brushing it off. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re free tonight, right? Let’s go catch a movie.”

“Aren’t you going on a date with Jaeh— he canceled again, didn’t he?” Taeyong’s eyes narrowed as he connected the dots.

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Taeyong shook his head in understanding. “A movie it is, then. I’ll pick you up after practice.”

No attempt to reschedule, no effort to make it up to you. That was when you made up your mind. You weren’t going to keep making excuses for him. You didn’t even bother confronting him when you saw him the next morning. He briefly apologised again and tried to initiate a conversation, but you ignored him, giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the week.

For days, you didn’t answer his calls or messages. Every attempt he made to reach out was brushed aside, deliberately giving him the space to sit with the consequences of his fault. He didn’t try to fix things. Sometimes, Jaehyun was just dense. Not even realizing the depth of what he’d done or why you were pulling away. It was as if the effort to understand never crossed his mind, and that’s what hurt the most. The feeling that maybe, he never really cared enough to notice.

You’d always face issues like this with silence. Jaehyun knew that. The silent treatment was how you usually processed things, how you created distance when words failed, and when you needed him to feel the weight of his actions.

You understood that with the upcoming concerts and the intense preparation for Golden Age, his schedule was packed. But that was exactly why you had requested a date night weeks in advance, knowing things would only get busier. You had planned ahead, making sure to accommodate his schedules, and yet, he still couldn’t make time for you.

The first time, you let it slide. The second time, you reassured yourself that it wasn’t intentional. But the third time? That was when you finally ran out of patience. It hurt more than you'd like to admit, this feeling of being invisible, like you were just another part of his busy routine. But you weren't about to beg for scraps of his attention. Not anymore.

Taeyong, who was sitting directly across from you, observed the interaction in silence.

When your eyes briefly met his, he gave you a knowing look, subtle but unmistakable. Without breaking eye contact, Taeyong offered you a small, reassuring smile.

As Johnny rummaged through the bag of food, he found a container of side dishes at the bottom, marked with a simple ‘J’. Recognizing it was meant for Jaehyun, he slid it towards him with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Jaehyun, Y/N made this for you. You should eat up.”

“I didn’t ask her to. You guys can have it.” Jaehyun said while not even sparing it a glance.

“It’s not his.” you interjected coldly. “I wasn’t sure if the kimbap would be enough, so I just made some extras.” The sharpness in your voice made the room go quiet for a moment.

Sensing the tension, Jungwoo quickly cut in, clapping his hands together. “Jal meokgetseumnida!” he said cheerfully, prompting the others to follow suit.

Haechan, oblivious to the weight of the situation, piped up, “Jaehyun-ah, you’re seriously the luckiest having Y/N as your girlfriend.”

A swift nudge from Yuta promptly silenced him.

Jaehyun didn’t respond. He merely set down his barely-eaten kimbap, stood up, and walked out onto the balcony. The room fell into an awkward silence as the balcony doors shut behind him. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and you had reached your limit.

“Excuse me.” you said coldly, pushing your chair back as you got up to follow Jaehyun.

The air outside was cooler, a stark contrast to the heat of your frustration. Jaehyun stood by the railing, one hand gripping the edge and with a cigarette in another. He didn’t turn around when he heard the doors open, but he knew it was you.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” you said, crossing your arms.

Jaehyun exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. And mind you, you were the one giving me the silent treatment all week. Aren’t you still mad at me? Why are you even here?”

“Yes, you’re right. I am still mad at you,” you shot back. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. And it definitely doesn’t mean I’d break a promise I made, that I will be there for every single one of your shows.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “But I guess it was all in my head, wasn’t it?”

He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“Jaehyun, I’m mad because you keep pushing me away. Every time you cancel, it feels like you don’t even care to fix things, like I’m not worth the effort. Because no matter how much I try, it’s never enough for you.”

His eyes flickered with something, guilt, maybe. But he remained silent.

Without giving him a chance to speak, you let out a sharp breath, frustration bubbling over. “I get it. You’re busy. You have a lot on your plate. But don’t treat it like I’m forcing myself into your life when I’m the one who’s been left hanging over and over again.” you continued, voice shaking slightly.

Jaehyun finally spoke, his voice low. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve been messing up, and I hate that I keep disappointing you. I’m sorry, Y/N. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to feel like you’re not enough.”

You shook your head, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “If you hate it so much, then why does it keep happening, Jaehyun? Why do I still feel like I’m the only one fighting for this?”

“I don’t know.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

You met his gaze, your eyes narrowing. “What do you even mean by you don’t know?” you asked, the anger laced in your voice. "Do you even want to fix this?" The words came out more sharply than you intended, but the hurt that had been building up inside you couldn’t be contained any longer.

Jaehyun’s breath hitched at your words. His gaze flickered with hesitation before settling into something firmer. Determination. “Baby, of course I do.” he said, stepping closer. “I want us. I just… how can I make up for all the times I hurt you?”

You sighed, crossing your arms and looking away, not saying anything.

Jaehyun exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the ground. Shame flickered across his face as he hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He knew he had hurt you, had pushed you away when all you ever did was try to be there for him.

As if afraid of wasting another second, he stepped forward. “Can I start making it up to you now?”

Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm, sending a familiar chill through you. He paused, his eyes searching yours as if asking for permission, his breath still carrying the faint trace of tobacco, an oddly comforting scent that immediately brought you back to so many memories. Then, without another word, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss.

His lips were warm, tender, but there was an undeniable urgency behind it, as though each second counted. The taste of the cigarettes lingered, mixing with the softness of his kiss, a contrast that made your heart ache with longing. His hands were gentle, but his grip on you tightened as if afraid to let go, as if this moment was something he feared losing. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with your own, both of you craving something that had been missing for too long.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” he murmured against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he pulled back slightly. His hands cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. “For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you’re in fact the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart softened, the anger and hurt slowly unraveling in his arms. You let out a small sigh, your fingers lightly gripping his sleeves. “You have lots to do, Jaehyun.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on you tightening just a little. “I know.” pressing his forehead against yours. “And I’m going to do it right this time.”

His sincerity was written all over his face, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

“You better.” you mumbled, though the fight in your voice had faded.

Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head slightly. “Starting with this.” And before you could question him, he kissed you again, soft and tender, a silent promise in itself.

When he pulled away, he laced his fingers through yours. “After the concert, let me take you home.”

You arched a brow. “And?”

“And…” He squeezed your arms, his voice low as his fingers grazed your skin. “Then, let me repay you with a show.” His hands slipped under your shirt, sending a spark of warmth through your body.

You chuckled shyly, shaking your head. “Funny. You have a bigger show to run later.”

Jaehyun paused, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. “True,” he said, his tone teasing. “But the biggest show will always be for you, Y/N. You’re worth it.”

His touch caressing on the bare skin of your waist, his eyes softening. “I promise.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the heaviness of the past weeks melting away in that moment. You smiled, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Jaehyun leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours once more, his lips just inches from yours. “Then I guess I better make this concert count, huh?”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension between you two finally dissolve. “Yeah, I hope you remember that when you’re up on stage later.” you teased, playfully squeezing his cheeks.

“I definitely will.” Jaehyun said, his voice low and steady. “But right now, all I can think about is you.”

The firm, reassuring pressure of his hand on your waist made you feel the weight of all his unspoken words. There was still so much left unsaid, but for now, his actions spoke louder than any apology could. He pulled you into another kiss again, not willing to let go.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world around you blur, all the worries and the time apart fading into the background.

You noticed the distant sound of the crowd from inside the stadium, signaling that the concert was about to begin. “Go get ready.” you said, pulling his hand out and giving it a gentle squeeze. “The concert’s about to start, and I think the rest of the guys are expecting you.”

Jaehyun hesitated to let go of you, his gaze holding yours for a moment before he snaked in one last kiss, as if to savor every second. “Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Jeong Jaehyun. I’ll be waiting for you after the show,” you said, squeezing his hand one last time before stepping back, giving him space to return to the hectic atmosphere inside.

Jaehyun smiled softly, his eyes holding a mix of affection and warmth. "I'll see you soon." he said, giving you a final hug before stepping back. His presence seemed to linger in the air, even as he turned to walk back towards the waiting room. You watched him go, heart still racing from the moment you shared.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, knowing he was out there living his dream, exactly where he belonged, doing what he loved. And in some small way, you were part of that. For the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

Masterlist

#jeong jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun angst #lee taeyong #johnny suh #yuta nakamoto #kim doyoung #kim jungwoo #mark lee #lee haechan #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct imagines

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taissasspidergirl · 3 days ago

Text

red eyes

gn reader (i made sure there were no pronouns used. let me know if i somehow still managed to make a mistake, my brain is so weird)

minors and ageless blogs dni.

a/n: this inspiration behind this is insane. which is why it may look rushed, or not long enough. this was purely self-indulgent as wanda can save us all. proofread but i wrote this as i went so there might be mistakes left. enjoy reading leave any feedback if you have any lets gooo

w/c: 3.7 k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, questions about drug consumption. gay reader. gay wanda. shuri and riri trying to play matchmakers. reader being a mess. makeout, reader and wanda match their freak. that’s about it i think? let me know if i missed anything!!

It starts below the cut :)

She was like a dream. Angel. Dream angel? You had no idea what she could be because your eyes were focused on hers. How they could lead you into a never ending forest that you’d gladly get lost into. Your legs nearly gave out when she tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed her suit. A simple action. And yet it was enough for you to act like a teenager all over again.

“Are you opening a tab or…?” The bartender asked, pointing towards your drink, interrupting any further thought your brain could conjure about the stranger.

“I’m…I think I’m good here. Thank you.” You mutter more than you speak, too entranced by the redhead who’s leaned against the wall, twirling a drink in her hand. Sliding a generous tip as an apology for the amount of zoning out you've been doing, you slide off the barstool and shake off your nerves.

Why were you even feeling like this?

The music was blasting so loud that you can feel the vibration of the bass traveling through your body, a pleasant distraction from the current shivers. You wonder where Shuri and Riri went off too but are slightly grateful that they lost you. You're not sure you could handle their teasing on top of your current state. Which would be painfully obvious that something was going on.

As you walk through the crowd of dancing bodies you allow yourself to relax, following the rhythm. For a minute it works. You ignore the stranger’s entracing presence. Or it could just be the alcohol traveling in your blood that’s making you think this way. Either way you’re successful at forgetting her, so much so that you don’t feel a pair of hands around your waist.

“I almost lost you.” It’s like time froze. You don’t know much what to say, much less think. What can you even do in this situation? It almost felt like an eternity before you take another drink of liquid courage and turn around, mentally steeling yourself. Right. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever flirted with someone, right?

“Ah, there you are.” Shuri playfully pushes you away. You nearly choke, eyes widening to see that the mysterious woman you feared was in fact, your best friend.

“You can at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” Riri chuckles as she notices how lost you looked.

“It’s not that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” You make another attempt to drink before Shuri stops you in midair.

“I hope it was a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey, you were the ones who abandoned me.”

“Uh, I thought you told us that you’d join us later on?” Riri furrows her brows. Shuri checks your temperature before leaning in to whisper closely in your ear. “Did you take anything else other than alcohol? Because seriously–”

“What? No, no, I didn’t, I’m just…”

And there she was again. This time she’s dancing with someone, with her hands around them. You can’t tell their exact gender but you know they’re lucky. You yearn to feel the heat of her body against yours, those hands to guide your movements and those eyes to devour you.

“Yeah, okay. We’re putting you on water from now on.”

You can hardly hear what Shuri is saying, your eyes trained on the redhead. You never wished you were someone else until now. She whispers something to them, making them laugh and you feel a swirl travel uncomfortably to the pit of your abdomen.

“I don’t know Shuri…I think it’s more of a girl problem than a high problem.”

“What?”

“Look at what’s happening.” Riri points to you, who’s looking at the woman who is now looking at…you. She doesn’t even blink, instead pulling the person she’s with closer, staring at you, nearly challenging you to break your stare. And that seems to be enough to get you out of your trance because you shake your head, grounding back into reality.

“What is…what?” Your heart is racing uncontrollably, in all sorts of different patterns.

“Damn. I wish I could've filmed that. You were in another world.” Shuri snickers as she waves a hand in front of you. You hardly blink, making Riri look at you in concern.

“Okay, seriously what is going on with you? You sure you didn’t take anything?”

“I’m afraid Cupid shot that poor heart of yours.” At Shuri’s laughter you blink hard, turning away from the green eyed woman to your friends.

“Who?” Yeah. You definitely need a seat because your legs are completely giving out. That and you feel delusional, you think you’ve seen a hint of a smirk but that could be a trick of the light and your brain going hazy.

Your friends look at each other before guiding you to the bar, sitting you down. You appreciate their concern but it’s nothing big. You’re just being dramatic. Your ears barely register what they are saying. You hardly see the glass of water in front of you, her eyes still stuck in your mind, nearly enough to make your skin stick with sweat.

Downing the drink in one go, you take a deep breath, leaning into Shuri’s comforting touch.

“I did not expect to have to play matchmaker on my trip. Say Riri, are you down with me?

“Woah, woah, woah. No one is playing matchmaker. There is no match to be made. And we’re here to make you enjoy your vacation, not give you any work.” You interrupt, downing your glass of water in one go, choking miserably as the woman– stranger, angel? approaches you.

“Are you sure? Because right now you’re– Wanda?”

“Shuri. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. What gives?” Wanda, you’ve learned, leans in and hugs Shuri, offering a polite handshake to Riri. You could listen to that husky voice and her accent all day on tape.

“I’ve been on vacation from Wakanda, and my good friend here offered me a place to stay.” She gestures to you, which you take as a cue to act normal. But how can you when you feel like you’re going to melt at any moment because right now Wanda is looking at you and offering her hand. God her hands are so soft.

“Wait, you all…know each other?”

You mirror Riri’s question in your mind, trying not to look too overly interested, you think you’ve already done enough with your staring.

“We go way back. Wanda was in a college exchange programme in Wakanda. A little before we met.”

“And how do you know each other?” This time Wanda turns to you and you nearly choke on air. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Uh…college…volleyball?” You uncontrollably drop your voice to a whisper. Your whole body trembles under her gaze, a shiver trembling throughout your entire body. It’s uncomfortable, yet addictive.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She leans her ear closer to your lips and it takes all the courage to not stumble on your words. Her scent invades your senses. It’s something sweet and floral, yet so heady that it’s entrapping.

“Volleyball. College.”

You were better than this. You don’t think out of all the people you’ve spoken to you were this miserable. Fortunately for you she doesn’t pay any mind. In fact she almost finds it amusing. It’s refreshing to most overly confident and shallow people she’s met. You were refreshing, in a way.

“It was a tie, if you’re asking.” Shuri nudges Wanda, trying to hold back her laugh from how absolutely of a mess you are right now. You wonder if she’s trying to put in good words in your honour.

“From what I heard it was pretty impressive.” Riri adds as she signals the bartender for another set of drinks.

“It was forever ago. Besides, with the internship at The Daily Bugle I don’t think I have much time.” You steal her drink, ignoring her look of indignation.

“But I heard you still play occasionally? Next week we’re going to train with other friends, just for the good memories. You can join us if you want, Wanda. Besides, we have lots of catching up to do.”

“How could I not?” And right now she was staring directly at you. This time, you choke on your drink.

“Shit, are you okay?” You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the way she rubs your back. Air. You need air.

“I think…outside. I need to go outside.”

“Do you need our help?”

“I’m fine, Shuri, I just need a quick breather…”

You need more than that.

“Why don’t we go outside? Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I think you two need to go outside. Riri and I will stay here and look over our things.”

“Is that okay with you?” Wanda turns to look at you for confirmation and you numbly nod your head. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she asks you to.

As you walk away they subtly shoot you a thumbs up, only replacing with a wave and a farewell when Wanda promises to get you back.

She leads you to a set of stairs, the sound of music slowly fading away. She has her hand on your back the whole time. Not too forceful but guiding. As you reach the final set of stairs she leads you to a balcony. The cold air is inviting, instantly cooling your nerves. Wanda lets go of you and you almost…no. Be honest with yourself. You miss her warmth.

“Feeling any better?”

If she keeps on talking with that accent and that voice you don’t think you’ll be.

“I’m alright. Just…y’know. Those evenings. One of those evenings. I mean I’m not always like this, I’m chill. I mean not chill chill, but…” You were rambling, waving your hand as you cleared your throat.

“I get you. Got too overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” There is no way that a question could take that long to answer.

“Mhm. That happens. It felt like everything was closing in on you, right?”

“Yeah. Like I couldn’t escape.” You’re not sure how she can still hear you with how low you’re speaking. Maybe it’s because you’re missing how close you got.

“Well. I’m wishing that’s not the case for you right now.” How did basic human decency turn into a new standard for you? With the way she was smiling softly at you and keeping a careful eye, you think you have your answer.

“I’m alright, thanks…Wanda.” Saying her name felt so good. God you’re weird. She probably thinks you’re being weird right now.

“I’m glad you are…?” She trails off, waiting for you to finish her sentence. What could she want? Your name? Right. Your name.

After giving her your name she tries it out. You’ve never paid much attention to it up until now and you swear you only want to hear it out of her. In all the ways you can think of.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. Shuri’s never done a presentation for her friends before…looks like I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss out much. I mean I’m the least interesting out of the bunch. Really.”

This is not the coolest way to introduce yourself.

“Says who? In the little amount of time I got to know you, I know you’re a competitive volleyball player. And you’re interning for a company? I think that you’re more interesting than you let on.”

“That was a longtime ago. I don’t have any more of my reflexes anymore.”

“I think reflexes stay with us forever. The more you practice the more it stays. Muscle memory kind of thing.”

“Right. Right. I totally get that, I mean…it stays…but I’m not sure. I don’t think I am as good as I was before.”

“Really? But aren’t you going to play next week?”

How the hell did she remember that?

“The girls are just saying that. I’m not sure if I’ll even be there. I might be there to watch or coach, but that’s about it.”

“You coach?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“I could see that. You seem to be observant. And you were pretty much…observant back there.” She laughs, the sound echoing softly in the air. You almost forget what she said…something about you being observant? wait. Observant? Shit, you’ve been caught– “I was wondering what it would take for you to talk to me. Guess all you needed was the right incentive.”

Woah, woah…what exactly is happening?

“You’re making up too many ideas.” It was so nonsensical but her gaze darkened at your trembling tone, completely indifferent to your words. She hasn’t felt that chase in a while. Or a feeling so strong, so indescribable, that it’s almost hypnotising. She felt your stare on her. She felt your presence. It was so ridiculous but she needed to know you, to have you. Maybe she’ll ask Shuri questions about you. Or just skip the questions entirely.

“I’m never one to make up ideas or lie.”

“You’re…so impossible.” Your body feels a random wave of warmth. You’re not entirely sure if it’s the alcohol taking its effect if it’s just her.

“Most people like that about me.” She leans against the railing, smiling that same smirk you could’ve sworn you imagined. Just having her like this felt real. A gust of wind flew past her hair and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. And it’s like she knows, because the minute you’re about to speak she steps closer to you.

“There you go with the staring again.”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t…I’m sorry. It’s just you’re so…”

You really are awful at this.

“So…what?” The redhead mock grins, her laughter making your stomach swirl with need. The air hardly even cools you anymore, your body is now at an all time heat. She held so much energy that you nearly felt intimidated. It felt like all oxygen was sucked in and she held you completely still. It’s a fate you’ll gladly accept. “There are so many things going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You’re so pretty I can hardly even focus.” Your heart races so fast you’re nearly out of breath as you finish speaking. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with me but you’ve got something about you that’s making me forget everything I know. You’re the only one I ever really want to know about. I know how crazy I sound, I mean I…” You don’t even stop to think before you talk. You realised how fucked you are when she raises a hand to interrupt you.

“Slow down for me, alright?”

Yeah. You’re so fucked. She’s probably going to tell your friends how much of a fucking weirdo you are–

“Look, for some weird reason I feel…I feel the same way too. And this is going to sound so weird but I think it’s perfectly normal for you to feel that way. You’re going to think I’m insane but I’ve been thinking a lot that something like this’ll happen.”

Silence ensues. A thousand alarm bells ring through your mind. And through hers. She should just apologise and leave it as it is–

“I think it’s…more than just normal. I mean I’ve been feeling this weird energy too and I thought if I spoke about it to Shuri she’s probably going to overextend her stay.” You speak clearly, not out of breath. You hold her stare, feeling brave, and safe. It’s so unexplainable. Maybe one of those theories you’ve heard of, or something more.

“I take it we got each other under our spell.” The redhead sighs with relief, drawing even closer to you and tentatively taking your hand in hers. You allow it. For some reason the touch feels more electric than before. It’s a pleasant shock. One that you don’t want to find letting go anytime soon.

“I think you’re the one who’s got me more under a spell than anything. Totally threw me off.”

“Oh, I did?”

“You did.”

You find yourself stepping closer to her, reaching for her other hand, tracing her pulse. You miss her low murmur, how she’s silently encouraging you to do more. To say more.

“You just have this pull to you, Wanda. If…you want to, I’d like to know more about you. And take you out sometime, maybe. If that’s what you want?” You were deflating again, your voice wavering. Just when everything was going perfect…

“I’d like that.” Her touch is so slow and tender it feels like you’re not even here.

“Huh?”

Her hands move to cup your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin. She doesn't say the words, not yet, but silently lets you know that you’ve got her right where she wants to. Just as you have her. Even then…just for you, she would repeat anything you need to hear.

“I said I’d like that. A lot, actually. I don’t know what this feeling is… But I want to find out more about it. With you, in our own time.” She speaks so softly that you can’t help but step closer, impossibly closer than what you already were. She truly has you under a spell.

“Then…good.” You smile, lifting her hands to your lips before gently kissing each knuckle.

“Good?”

“Good.”

“More than anything?” She leans in, her lips barely brushing against yours. Her hands let go of yours, wanting to feel your heartbeat

“I promise.” Your voice wavers as her eyes flit into yours, dropping down to gaze at your lips, before she gazes back at you again, silently asking you for permission to kiss you.

It’s a request you grant.

Her fingers tugs your shirt, your lips playfully brushing together as she smiles against them. She switches positions, tugging on your shirt as she walks backwards, leading you further away from the balcony, until her back hits the wall.

“Wait, Wanda…is this what you want? You know we don’t have to–”

“Kiss me, please.” It’s like your brain is wired to listen to her. You break the distance, your lips colliding. She’s aggressive. Carefully aggressively. Her lips taste of strawberries, making you hum softly. They’re so sweet you can hardly feel them against yours. Until she traps your bottom lip with her teeth, teasingly pulling back, keeping steady eye contact with you.

It’s like you forgot how to breathe entirely.

Her pupils are so blown you can hardly see the colour of her eyes. You try to resist the urge to stare at her heaving chest, wanting nothing more but to slowly take her apart right then and there. A swirling sensation at the pit of her abdomen, her hands itching to pull you impossibly closer to her, to feel you against her. It’s a feeling she’s rediscovering again. And it’s driving her mad with want, desire…and something more. She pulls you in again, her hands digging into your hips, making you groan into the kiss, completely unable to return it probably. You’re almost too drunk on her. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and yet…still so addictively intoxicating. Your hands move wherever you can touch, rapid and sporadic. It’s like you’ve known each other before, seemingly able to map out your sensitive areas.

Eventually, reluctantly, you’re both gasping for air, using each other as anchors. You laugh after a while, feeling your heart rate slow down to a normal rhythm.

“I’m taking you out on a real date, alright?” You press your forehead against hers, relishing in the way she wraps her arms around you.

“I know you will.” She whispers, kissing the tip of your nose before capturing your lips one last time. You lean against her, dropping your head to her shoulder. As you close your eyes images come wafting through her mind, images of realities that have yet to happen soon.

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2am-writing · 17 hours ago

Text

Need a Hand? Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader; Y/n's perspective

Summary: You’re new to Hawkin’s currently moving into the new town. You’re on your way to your new apartment when your car runs out of gas. Little did you know how this shitty situation could turn around.

WC: 1.3k

Author’s Note: Hi!! My name is Jes and this is my first ever “fanfic” “imagine” type writing ever. I really hope you enjoy it. I have always wanted to start doing this but I never had the motivation, I usually am just a quiet lurking reader. I would love to build/ be a part of a community and have moots, and I would love to keep writing. Feel free to message me ideas or even if you just want to talk!! I hope you like this. (: This is also my first post in 5 years so ahhhhhh

Of course the day I choose to move into my apartment in the small town Hawkins, Indianan just happens to be a dark cloudy rainy day. The rain was coming down relentlessly hammering against my windows, turning the town that absorbed it dull and bleak.

This wouldn’t have caused me too much of an issue due to the insignificant amount of boxes I had in the back seat.. That is if my car didn’t start sputtering.

‘Just great’ I thought to myself, I was about 10 minutes from my apartment and now I’m pulled over on the side of the road stranded. I glanced at my gas meter- My car has been causing me trouble recently but I thought it would make it through this move, then I was going to get it fixed. I guess not because 5 minutes ago it read that I had half a tank of gas, and now it’s on empty.

I stay sitting in my car for a moment watching my surrounding environment as I contemplate what I should do next.

‘I could walk and get gas, I definitely can’t push my car, I could call a tow truck- No I can’t afford that… I could just stay here,’ I go over in my head.. None of these options I wanna do. I just wanted to get to my apartment, rent a movie from the Family Video store across the street, order food, and fall asleep to a crappy movie. My big plans have now been delayed.

A few minutes went by, and I decided to start my treacherous journey to find a gas station in this dead ended town. I grabbed my purse and keys then slammed the door shut as I embarked on my adventure.

I was about 3 minutes into my walk down this straight dead road, my hair and clothes were already drenching wet as they were sticking to my skin, my face flushed from the cold. That’s when I heard the sound of an engine approaching nearby.

A maroon BMW slowed down next to me as the passenger side window rolled down revealing a handsome man, dark expressive brown eyes, gorgeous thick messy chestnut hair, he looked to be around my age, I was captivated by him, he was without a doubt beautiful.

“Hey,” He called out to me putting his car in park, “I’m assuming you’re not walking in the rain by choice.. Do you need a hand?” Typically I would call stranger danger and tell him to piss off, but something about his vibes felt like I could trust him- Though my judgment could also be clouded due to the fact that I no longer want to be walking in this rain, but oh well..

We make eye contact as I reply, “I actually could, my car ran out of gas and I have no clue where I’m going,” I chuckle out.

“Hop in,” The mystery man replied back to me as he opened the passenger door from the inside. I don’t hesitate to come in and sit down,

“Thank you so much, I’m so sorry about your seats I’m drenched-” He cuts me off before I can ramble on further,

“It’s okay, I knew what my seats were getting into when I invited you in.” He smiled at me laughing a little, “I’m Steve, Harrington by the way,” He said, holding out his hand.

“I’m y/n, y/l/n,” I smile, shaking his hand back, “It’s nice to meet you Steve,”

“I’m assuming you’re new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before”

“Oh yeah,” I reply, “Today’s my move in date.. And well, as you can see I’m not off to the smoothest start” I laughed a little,

“No kidding” Steve chuckled to him a bit, “Well I have some gas in the trunk, I’ll take us back to your car and you’ll be on your way I guess.” I nodded in agreement, smiling at him once again before breaking eye contact.

Little did I know Steve was absolutely captivated by me, how I was still smiling and seeming so positive after everything that was going on. He wanted to get my car running again, but he wanted to keep talking to me, he wanted to get to know me, why I moved here, why I didn’t get my car fixed before the move, and why was I so willing to get in the car with him, he wanted to know every detail about me. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but something about me intrigued him, this felt different than any other interaction he’s had and he wanted to keep exploring it.

He drove us back to my car and parked behind mine, “Stay right here I’ll go fill it up real quick” I didn’t have time to protest before he left the car leaving me alone in the passenger seat, the rain singing to me as it bounced on the hood of his car.

A couple minutes later a soaking wet Steve came back in the car, “Man it was pouring hard out there. Your car’s all full though” He commented.

My heart feels like it’s melting and all I can do is let out a small chuckle and smile at him- Why was he being so nice to me? Why wouldn’t he just make me fill up my own car? He really just let me hop a ride, gave me his gas, and stood out in the pouring rain to fill my car. I guess it doesn’t seem like an extreme gesture from an outside perspective, but from my perspective those gestures meant everything. I came from a place of nothing, grew up with nothing, absent parents, fake friends. It’s sad to say but this small moment with Steve I would cherish forever.

“Thank you so much Steve, I seriously owe you one”

Steve’s heart felt like it skipped a beat at those words, “It’s no problem, really. Can’t let a gal as pretty as you walk to destination of nowhere in the rain.”

My face heats up at his comment, and I look down shyly smiling. He quickly follows up, “I’ll take you up on you owing me one though,” I make eye contact with him once again, curious with what he could possibly want from me,

“Yeah, what do you need, anything” I reply my face still burning up from this interaction,

“Uh- Coffee would be great- But I don’t wanna bombard you with moving in you know- so whenever you have time-” I could tell he was nervous, but that made me feel good. I cut him off before he could continue blabbing, “Coffee would be great. This weekend? Saturday morning?” I stutter, he doesn’t hesitate to reply,

“Yeah- uh- that’s perfect,” He says, falling over his words. I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag before scribbling down my apartment address and phone number before handing it to Steve, “Here” I said not holding back my smile,

“Thanks y/n, I will see you this weekend then” Steve replied holding the piece of paper tight in his hand but careful not to get it wet,

“Thank you again Steve, for the ride and the gas, and again I’m sorry about your seats” I laughed a little. Steve took in my smile and laughter, he loved the way I said his name. It sounded natural when it came out of my mouth. To him it was such an innocent pure moment, he thought I was beautiful and kind, he wanted to spend more time with me but he knew I had to get started on moving in, and well, he didn’t want to push any boundaries with us just meeting and all,

“Anytime really, I’m just glad I could help” He doesn’t want to break eye contact, but it has to end eventually. I got out of the car, walking quickly back to mine before closing my door. Steve waited until I successfully started my car and drove off before he too left where we were parked.

The whole way to the apartment he wouldn’t leave my mind, his kind gestures, his compliment to me, him wanting to see me again. Maybe this move wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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