#this gives me hope even though there were also two failed to send notices on my phone

[woodelf68]

[lowkeyremi]

That's my man atsumu x fem!reader

notes: I needed to write smthing for my baby's birthday. fwb tsumu does smthing to a me (it'll end up with getting together bc im silly like that), the samu ver is here

Content: slight language, slightly suggestive, fluff

He smiled at her with those sex eyes of his. Yes, he's giving them to her and not you. Atsumu makes everything so hot and cold, it's hard to tell with him.

She giggles and he laughs too, entertaining her for some pussy. The 'why' is something you will never understand, not when you've had that man down on his knees, eating you out like he was on death row and you were his last meal.

Your hope is that both of their stupid asses feel your heated glare towards them. They don't notice it though, mainly because you're best friend pulls you out of your thoughts.

"The sooner you get over him the sooner my life becomes easier." Your best friend jokes. Their attempts at lightening your mood are ineffective. How could you be in a better mood when the man of your dreams only wants sex from you? You want him, badly, but he doesn't want you.

This was something you were aware of before sleeping with him. Yet, you took it lightly, and now here you are, pouting over him being with another girl.

"I know, it's just-"

They cut you off, "'it's different between us, he treats me better than his other fucks.' I've already heard the whole shebang." Your friend rolls their eyes with a quick smirk.

"He's a college frat boy, there's no way he was serious if he said something in bed. It was probably to set the mood." You know they're right, you're just being delusional. You want your relationship to be something it's not.

The rest of your day was pretty foul. Just as you thought it couldn't get worse it did. You had to present your presentation, because your partner who was supposed to do it has covid, and your other partner is so bad with public speaking that she freezes up.

Your favorite coffee is the only thing that brings you some joy to your day. You're seated in your favorite booth at your favorite cafe. You take small sips and check your social media feed. It's then when you hear your name being called out.

You don't bother to turn to look because you know who it is. He sits at your booth, unaware of the anger you feel currently.

"Don't you have someone's pussy to be buried into?" You ask with venom.

Atsumu gives you that cute little chuckle, you hate it so much right now. It feels like a tear to your pride.

"Only if it's yers." He suggests with a smirk.

"I'm really not in the mood right now Atsumu, why don't you go entertain that girl from bio." Shit, know he'll know and tease you. He'll probably cut things off with you and-

"Oh her? I was just tryin' to get her to do my presentation, but she turned me down." He says casually. This is probably the only time you'll be thankful for Atsumu's obliviousness.

"I could have helped you with it." He knows you're smart, and he would have asked you...

"There was no way I woulda asked ya. You always make me do the work, and only give me commentary on my work." He says sighing. You watch as he places those big rough hands of his under his chin.

He's so pretty, volleyball has not failed him once. Even though some of your friends hate his hair; you think it's cute.

Those eyes, so pretty and brown draw you in to him. Also his muscles are just right, he's not too buff but he's also not thin to the point you can't see anything.

"Yeah, it's called improving. I really hope you didn't think you'd get through college with a pretty face and money. College isn't just one big party. At least not for me." You lecture and Atsumu listens, he always listens.

"For starters I do my work now, I ain't slept with a teacher since freshman year which was almost two years ago. Thank you very much." He replies to the shade you send his way.

"Anyway, what is it that you wanted?" You ask with a sigh.

"I wanted to check up on ya s'all. My cupcake seemed a lil' outta it today." Fuck his perceptiveness.

"Just tired is all." Atsumu's eyes narrow at your response. Why'd you think you could lie to one of the biggest liars you know?

"The way ya were acting today wasn't as much 'oh gee im tired' but more like 'my sweetie pie tsumu-bear hasn't been paying me any attention.'"

"If you knew, then why where you trying to force it out of me?" You roll your eyes and look back to your phone as to avoid his gaze and your embarrassment.

"I just wanted to hear ya say it because yer so cute." Atsumu is going to be the death of you. He annoys you to no end.

"Just so ya know, I ain't been sleepin' with anyone besides you, sweetheart."

"How do I know you aren't a big fat liar?" The way he smiles when you hiss at him has your heart melting. Why? Why you?

"I'd be an idiot to sleep with someone else when I got the most beautiful girl in my bed all the time." It's so sweet and sincere, his voice is honest you can tell. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest, and that Atsumu shaped hole in your heart is slowly being filled.

"Yeah? What're you trying to say, Tsumu?" You peek up from your phone screen to look at his dark eyes. It catches you off guard slightly, the way he looks at you, like you put the stars in the damn sky.

"I knew ya were kinda clueless but this is something else. I want ya to be my girl."He clarifies and you stop breathing for a second. When you'd fantasize about this you'd never thought his confession would be calm. Atsumu is loud and obnoxious, so this quiet, calmness has caught you off guard.

"Is that a question or a demand?" You ask.

"Not a question, m'already confident in ya wanting me." He's prideful and sometimes it sucks but right now.. it's so hot.

"Okay then, I'm yours." You whisper quietly trying to grasp what you've just said.

"Good, best decision you'll ever make, cupcake." Cockiness is laced in his tone and you roll your eyes.

"I said to stop calling me that," You finally drop your gaze back to your phone, but you aren't even paying attention to the dimly-lit screen. Your brain is exploding right now.

"You're my man now." It finally registers.

"Sure am."

[gendercomsumer]

if you can can you write s comfort headcannon with fem or nb reader who hates themselves to the point they refuse to look at themselves in the mirror?? (Thinking about vil and/or malleus tbh but any characters are fine) feel free to refuse!

Vil and Malleus with an S/O who can't look at themselves in a mirror because of how they hate themselves

a/n: Thank you for sending in the request! I do love some good comfort with a side of angst so this was nice for me to write! If you're similar to the S/O in this story I do hope this could provide some form of comfort to you!

Warnings: Self deprecating speak(from S/O's end),

Gn!Reader

Characters: Vil Schoenheit (710 words), Malleus Draconia (

Vil Schoenheit

Ever since the two of you started dating, Vil has made sure he compliments you at least once a day. 

Doesn’t matter the time he will once a day without fail give you at least one compliment.

From telling you your hair looks nice to you did good on a test.

It’s rare he repeats the same compliment once so you’re surprised with something new everyday.

In the Pomefiore dorm, not only are there mirrors in almost every room.

The floors and walls are polished so well that you could see yourself in it

And you hated it.

It was hard to find a room where you didn't have to feel your own reflection in the room with you.

 Vil wouldn’t pick up on it immediately, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t pick up on it soon

After the first or second time though he’d notice how you would avoid the rooms with mirrors

Even the ones without you wouldn’t look at the shining tile floor.

When you would be in his room you wouldn’t even towards his vanity, and none of this sat right with him

Once or twice when he would re-enter a washroom you were just in he would see a towel draped over the mirror

After that he knew he couldn’t let this just dwindle forever, he’d have to bring it up to you.

What was going on in his darling sweet potatoes head to make them cover every reflective surface they see?

So Vil one day while he was helping you on a skin care routine, and you had insisted on keeping your back to the vanity across the room

Vil saw this as a good time as any to bring it up. He furrowed his brows with a small frown and looked at you,

“Sweet Potato.. Is there a reason you are so adamant on never looking in a mirror..?”

 You could feel your breath hitch as his question left his lips. 

you did tell him about your true thoughts the fact you couldn’t look at yourself because of the hate you felt towards yourself

About how you couldn’t bear the thought even.

Vil would listen and let you spill your heart out even if you cry.

He’d gladly hold you or touch you as you cried if you needed the comfort but won’t force you if not. 

He knows this is a vulnerable moment for you and he doesn’t want to make it worse

Once you have spilled your feelings to him he’d look almost saddened by your confession. 

“Oh darling… You’re beautiful… in every faction…” 

He partly feels as if he hadn’t been telling you how he sees you as the most beautiful person in all of the Twisted Wonderland

He’d let you cry but he silently promises to himself that he would make sure you’d be able to look yourself in a mirror, and he’d help in anyway he could

How could his dear sweet potato see themselves as anything less than perfect?

After the confession from your end on how you felt about yourself Vil made sure that you knew he meant every words of his affirmations and complements 

Vil would also work with you on looking in the mirror

He wouldn't push you to far as he understands that this whole process will take time

 Every time you would enter his room if it was a bad day as much as he’d like to leave it uncovered, he would cover his vanity 

He wouldn’t want to worsen your mood that's the last thing he’d want to do

If you’re able to look into the mirror at least once and be able to smile at yourself, even if it’s teary eyed and for only a moment

He will be so proud of you and he will make sure you know.

 Wrapping his arms loosely around your neck and resting his forehead on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and you sat in the vanity chair.

That one look you were able to do and not have a look of disgust or disappointment was more than enough for him

“You’ve done so well sweet potato… I love you so much… so please love yourself as much as I do…” 

Malleus Draconia

Luckily (or more like sadly given the situation) Malleus dorm doesn't have that many mirrors.

They mostly just have very large and tall windows that can be reflective once freshly cleaned

but for the most part it was easy to avoid your reflection when it came to that dorm at least

In Ramshackle though the mirror, even if dusty, still reflects your features well

So with the extra cloth you covered every mirror in the dorm.

Malleus I believe that Malleus prefers the atmosphere of the Ramshackle dorm

Not to mention his beloved child of man was there so what was not to love about the place you called home?

He never really noticed the lack of mirrors until one day he saw you hiding one that had been uncovered

Then he started to become curious

It had gotten so bad that the mirror in your room that according to Grim "They have really weird dreams about" was moved out of the room and into a spare.

Malleus tried to talk to you about it "Child of man? Why is it your dorm has such a lack of mirrors?"

You'd brush it off saying that a majority of the mirrors were far beyond broken

But if you thought he wouldn't see the way you became anxious at the question and answered as if you had rehearsed it

you'd be gravely mistaken

He'd then be acutely aware of how you acted around mirrors, how you'd do everything in your power not to face them

Every time he'd look back on the times he'd frown. Why couldn't his child of man face themselves?

He even did a bit of an investigation and found all mirrors intact and fine

so he brought it up to you one day during one of your late night walks you took

You had stumbled across a small lake but you didn't look at it's beautiful reflective surface

"My dear..? Why do you never look at yourself?"

The question was sudden and took you back with a twinge of fear making its way through you.

You looked aside ashamed and pressed your lips in a thin line as you mumbled a response the feeling of tears pricking at your eyes

Malleus was taken aback, how... how could you see yourself in such a light..?

The silence was deafening and Malleus slowly reached out to you grazing your arm with his fingers

You pulled away looking anywhere to avoid his sympathetic gaze

"My dear, you have helped so many, done feats no other could dream of, and all the while captured my heart... how can you see yourself as any less than brilliant..?"

His voice was laced with pain, how could he let this go on for so long and not do something?

Malleus then made a personal vow to himself, 'even if it takes an eternity, he will have you see yourself the same way he sees you'

He would stay by your side, if you show even the slightest bit of insecurity

"My dear have I told you how wonderful you look today?"

"You are doing so well, you should take a break!"

Similar like Vil his sayings and compliments he'd barely repeats and if he does another on is coming up right after to assure you there's plenty more he loves about you

He's now acutely aware of every little thing you say about yourself and if something is even slightly self deprecating, even if it's a joke..

"Don't say that, it was one test child of man, there are plenty more to come. All things considered you didn't do as bad as you may think, some people (he's talking about Ace and Deuce/hj) barely got anything right."

He's now your personal coach helping you in some subjects, slowly building your confidence

The one day on your walk you come across the same lake and you looked at the lake, at your own reflection.

Granted you were only pointing out some flowers floating on the water, but when you looked over at Malleus it was as if you had done a heroic act

even if you didn't bring attention to yourself, or it still hurt to do, in his eyes it was progress.

The last time you were here you couldn't look at the lake in fear of seeing yourself staring back at you

This was progress, progress the two of you had worked so hard to come to

He smiled and pulled you gently and mumbled a small string of words

"I'm so proud of you my dear..."

[coneyislandbabey]

i'd have you anytime. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: profanity, some violence, billy being billy

SYNOPSIS: You don't expect something to bloom between you and the drummer of your brothers' band, and when it does, the two of you try (and fail) to keep it a secret. word count: 5,107

NOTES: This was written for this request! Also sorry, it's quite a bit longer than usual! Hope it's okay and y'all like it

Graham Dunne: She’s always been stubborn, you know. When she got it in her head that something was gonna go a certain way, it almost always did. 

Billy Dunne: I told her to stay home. [Laughs] I should have known she wasn’t going to listen but… I really thought that it would be better for her, in the long run. Life would be more stable for her if she stayed in Pittsburgh. 

Y/N Dunne: I didn’t know jack shit about making music, but I’d be damned if I let my brothers leave me in the dust in Pittsburgh while they made new lives for themselves out in California. 

The sun hadn’t even risen yet by the time your suitcase was packed and you were sitting on the front steps of your house, gazing out at your empty street with tired eyes. Your older brothers, Billy and Graham, were planning to leave for Los Angeles with the rest of their band that morning, and Billy had made it very clear that you weren’t invited. After you had gotten over your initial fury and composed yourself, you began to plan. If you were ready to go by the time Warren came to pick them up, you figured you had a good enough chance of weaseling your way into the van before your brothers noticed, or pulling out all stops in your pouting ‘but-I’m-your-baby-sister’ routine and guilting them into changing their minds. Whatever happened, you would be in that van on your way to California with them. 

By the time the sun had risen and the two of them came through the front door, lugging their bags with them, you were practically falling asleep on the concrete. You jumped to your feet when you heard the door, whipping around to face them with a defiant and defensive look. Billy dropped his suitcase and crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth a grim line. 

“What are you doing out here, (y/n)?” he asked, though the tone of his voice suggested that he already knew your answer. 

“I’m coming with you,” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest in a mimicry of his stance. 

“We’ve already been over this,” he sighed. “You’re not coming.”

“And why not? And don’t give me a bullshit answer, Billy.”

“You’re not in the band, you’re– you’re young, there’s no reason to uproot you–”

“Stop acting like I’m a baby! I’m ten fucking months younger than Graham, I’m not five,” you cut him off, growing angry. 

“Still! It’s not like we’re going for fun,” Billy tried. 

“Oh fuck off, you might be going for your career but you’re going for fun just as much,” you rolled your eyes. Turning to Graham, you said, “C’mon, Teddy Graham, don’t you want me around?” 

Graham opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a few moments as his eyes darted between the two of you, clearly struggling for what to say. Eventually, he landed on, “I don’t see the problem, Billy. I mean, besides the band, the three of us have done everything together. Why not this?”

Billy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He worked his jaw, mulling it over. “Fine. Fine. You can come, but if you give me even one reason, I’ll send you back home to mom.” 

You grinned, running up the steps and pulling both of them into a hug. “You’d miss me too much if you didn’t bring me, anyway!”

Graham Dunne: Me? I never could say no to her. I would try sometimes, and she’d turn those eyes on me, and I’d be doing whatever she asked before I even realized I had given in. [Shrugs] She’s my baby sister, I always want her to be happy. 

When Warren rolled up to the curb a short while later, he and Eddie seemed only mildly surprised at your presence, before they greeted you all and started talking excitedly about the road trip. You piled into the back with your brothers and Billy’s girlfriend, Camila. Once inside, Camila scooted over to sit next to you. 

“I’m really glad you’re coming,” she said, smiling. 

“Yeah?” you asked. You liked Camila, she was always nice to you, but in the time Billy had been dating her, you hadn’t gotten to know her very well yet. 

“Of course! It’ll be nice to not be the only girl there. Plus,” she said, nudging you with her shoulder. “I know they would miss you too much if you stayed behind. Billy talks about you all the time.” 

“Does he now,” you asked sarcastically. Considering how, ever since the band began, you hardly saw Billy, let alone spent any time with him, you sincerely doubted this was true. Probably Camila was just trying to be nice. 

“Yes, he does,” she insisted. “You must know you and Graham are everything to him.”

Sure felt like it when he tried to abandon me and move three thousand miles away. Instead of airing this particular grievance, you just smiled over at Camila. It didn’t matter now, what Billy had been planning to do. You were coming with them. The sting of them– well, of Billy mostly– wanting to leave you behind wasn’t important. 

That first night, you all checked into a motel somewhere outside of St. Louis, after scrounging up enough cash to get dinner at a greasy side-of-the-road diner. The crickets chirped loudly in the black night as you walked toward your room, the air heavy with the scent of pine. The feeling of things changing weighed heavy on your chest, and lifted you up all the same. You and Graham were sharing a room, Eddie and Warren in the one to your left, and Camila and Billy in the one to your right. 

After unlocking the room, Graham immediately brushed his teeth and passed out on his bed. You sat on your own bed, reading a novel by the full moonlight slipping in through the window. Sleep evaded you, making the night endless. Sighing, you closed the book and put it on the nightstand, and quietly tip-toed across the room to pilfer through your brother’s bag for his cigarettes and a lighter. Once you found what you were looking for, you creeped over to the door and slipped out into the fresh night air. 

To your surprise, someone else was already standing outside, visible only in silhouette except for the glowing orange end of their cigarette. Upon closer inspection, you could make out Warren’s unruly mass of curls. You ambled over to stand next to him, gazing out at the mostly-empty motel parking lot and the stretch of road and forest beyond it. 

“Hey,” he said around his cigarette, voice barely more than a whisper. “Need a light?” 

“Please,” you nodded, turning your face to him. Warren came close to light your cigarette, and the little orange flame illuminated his face for just a moment, warm brown eyes meeting yours cast in a flickering glow. 

“Can’t sleep,” Warren observed, and you nodded. 

“Don’t know how I could sleep on a night like this.” You felt as though, if you squinted hard enough, you were able to see Los Angeles looming on the horizon. 

Warren turned to look at you, the strange expression on his face illuminated pale and blue in the moonlight. He was looking at you like you understood something about him, something he wasn’t expecting. “I would say that I won’t sleep until we get to L.A., but I won’t sleep then, either.”

You laughed, the sound a musical harmony, joined with the nocturnal noises of the crickets and frogs. 

Warren Rojas: ‘Course I remember that night. We were finally doing it, leaving Pittsburgh and chasing the dream, man. I was outside that motel in the middle of nowhere, Missouri, smoking a cigarette and thinking shit, we’re really doing this. And she comes out in her pajamas, and I swear we were the only ones left awake in that whole town. And we’re standing there smoking together, wide awake because the future was shaping itself around us. 

Y/N Dunne: I didn’t know Warren would become important to me then. I didn’t know at all. I was just so happy to not have been left behind, to be included in any way. That night, Warren and Eddie and Los Angeles, even, they were still my brothers’ things. Not mine, not yet. 

The next morning, you situated yourself in the front passenger seat of the van before Eddie could beat you to it. Warren seemed only mildly surprised to see you sitting there, a surprise that quickly morphed into a smile and a warm good morning greeting. In the back, Graham and Billy and Eddie shouted and played music, Camila snapped pictures of them and out the windows, but you and Warren were in your own little world. He was just making conversation, sure, but he was asking about your life, about you, listening to your stories and telling his own in return when you asked. It was the first time any of your brothers’ friends had paid you any mind beyond being Billy and Graham’s little sister. 

Warren was funny, you realized. He was attentive, too, his eyes cutting from the open road to you frequently as you animatedly told him stories from the neighboring seat. He was really listening, bringing up little details of things you said hours after you said them. 

Warren Rojas: I mean, I’m embarrassed to say it now, but I’d never given her a second thought before then. She used to hang around sometimes, when the band was still practicing out of their garage. But, you know, she was their kid sister. I remembered seeing her in school, the year below us. Graham always talked about her like she was much younger than she was, like she needed protection, but she was always a spitfire. I just didn’t realize how bitchin’ she was ‘til that trip. 

(Y/N) Dunne: It took one night in L.A. for all that to culminate into something new. 

You and Warren had taken to smoking with each other every night during the trip across the country, though you’d moved on exclusively to weed after that first night. It surprised and pleased you that the two of you never seemed to run out of things to talk about. 

Late that night you got to Los Angeles, you were unpacking your clothes into your chest of drawers when Warren darkened your doorway. He had a joint in his hand and he waved it at you when you looked up, a smile on his face. 

“Join me on the deck?” he asked. 

“Of course.” You dropped the pair of jeans you were folding onto the bed. Warren offered you his elbow, and you smiled as you wound your hand through it, allowing him to lead you down the hall and out onto the deck. 

“What a fucking view,” you breathed, immediately going to the railing to gaze out at Laurel Canyon blanketed in night, the stars scattered above you like salt across a tablecloth. You turned back to Warren to see that he was smiling softly at you. He’d lit the joint, and wordlessly he brought it to your lips. 

You took a long drag before passing it back to the man. “So what’re you planning to do now that we’re here?”

“Not sure,” you shrugged. “I can’t play music, so don’t worry, I’m not trying to join the band.”

Warren laughed, shaking his head. “Would it be so bad if you wanted to?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I love my brothers, you know I do, but I can’t work with them. Not that closely anyway. For now I’m gonna look for a waitressing gig or something.”

“But when we get that record deal, you’ll be there while we record, right?” 

“Course I will, War. I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” you promised. “I’ll be watching every minute of you guys making history.” 

You passed the joint between you both again, settling into a comfortable silence as you did so. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he said after a moment, and you whipped your head around to look at him, surprised. 

“Yeah?” you asked cautiously. 

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, nerves underlying his tone. 

“So kiss me,” you shrugged. The minute the words had left your mouth, Warren surged forward, cupping your face in his calloused hands, his lips warm and solid on yours. You fisted your hands in his t-shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could. 

Warren Rojas: The consequences of us kissing were the last thing on my mind, man. All I was thinking was that I was alone with a super hot chick who understood me like nobody else did, and I would be a fool not to kiss her when I had the chance. 

(Y/N) Dunne: It didn’t hit me until later, when I was back in my room, that there even would be consequences. The first thought I had was that my brothers absolutely could not know under any circumstances. 

Things between you and Warren unfolded so easily, like they were the only natural course of events. Like the two of you were meant to come together in this way, and not God or nature or anything else could have gotten in the way of it. 

It was hard, finding time alone. You had gotten a job as a waitress at a nice, midscale Italian restaurant in Hollywood. You made really good tips, but the hours were more demanding than you had hoped for. And, of course, Warren was with the band, working hard every day. It wasn’t long after you all arrived in Los Angeles that they got their record deal, which you knew would happen, and they’d been laboring tirelessly towards its completion ever since. They had just started actually recording the thing, and you were over there sitting next to Tobias in the little soundbooth any free minute you had off. 

When you got home, most of the time all you wanted to do was fall on your bed and pass out immediately. Instead, you did your best to stay awake in your room until you were sure all of the band members had retired to their own rooms; then, you opened your bedroom door and quietly creeped across the hall to Warren’s. He always left the door open just a crack for you. 

Tonight, when you pushed open the door, Warren was sitting in his bed above the covers, wearing nothing but his boxers due to the stifling heat in the house. He was smoking a blunt and wearing a pair of wire frame glasses you’d never seen, reading something out of a copy of Rolling Stones magazine. At the soft click of the door closing behind you he looked up, shooting you a smile. 

“My girl,” he said by way of greeting, putting the magazine down next to him and opening his arms. Happily, you crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, sitting on his lap. Those muscular drummer’s arms encircled you, and you spread one palm on his bare chest, the other on his cheek as you leaned in to give him a soft kiss. He held you close, deepening the kiss before you could pull away, making you smile against his lips. 

“Missed you,” you mumbled, only pulling away just enough to get the words out. 

Warren laughed, the sound vibrating pleasantly through your own body. “You just saw me a few hours ago, mama.” 

“I know,” you sighed. “But out there, I have to act like you’re just my friend, Warren. Or, really, I have to act like you’re just my brothers’ friend who I happen to spend a lot of time with because you’re in their band. It’s tiring.” 

You didn’t realize you were pouting, your brow furrowed with your emotions, until Warren reached up and smoothed the skin between your eyebrows with his thumb. You leaned into his touch, feeling a little silly for starting to get worked up. After all, it’s not like there was anything to be done about the situation. 

“It is tiring,” he nodded. “Say the word, baby, and we can tell everyone. You know I won’t complain about being able to kiss you anytime I want.” 

You smiled at the thought, but quickly turned serious, shaking your head. “You know we can’t. My brothers would fucking flip– well, Billy would at the very least– and I don’t want to cause any drama while you guys are really getting your careers off the ground.” 

Warren Rojas: She was right, I knew she was. I mean, Billy went and proved just how right she was when he did find out. But sitting at my drum kit and trying to pretend she wasn’t right on the other side of that glass– trying to pretend I didn’t want my hands on her every free second I had was torture. 

(Y/N) Dunne: As long as I could keep our thing in its bubble, it was safe. Safe from whatever the band could say about it, whatever shit my brothers would give us. It was so good. I was afraid if it was out in the open it would change, or die, or… I don’t know. I was afraid of losing him. 

As the months wore on, the two of you grew more comfortable, and with that, bolder. You used to only freely show him affection in his bedroom or yours, where it was safe. But that changed pretty quickly. Soon enough, when Warren squeezed past you in the kitchen, his hands lingered on your waist just a second too long to be casual. He would sit on the couch next to you during movie nights, arm thrown over the back of the couch and inching closer to resting protectively on your shoulders with every passing minute. 

And then he was pausing recording sessions by saying he had to use the bathroom and pulling you into random storage closets to kiss you breathless and leaving you panting and keyed up to get back before anyone got suspicious. You got so good at sneaking around. 

You got so good that it made you careless. 

The mistake you two made might have gone unnoticed on a different day. Usually, the morning after a recording session ran late into the night, everyone slept well into the afternoon, only getting up shortly before they had to head back into the studio again. Those nights were freer for you and Warren, you could be louder or even hang out in the living room or even on the deck without much fear that anybody else would wake up and discover you. 

Usually, the two of you had one rule: don’t fall asleep with each other. There were too many variables to falling asleep in the same bed, too much risk. If you ever fell asleep in Warren’s bed, he would wake you up pressing kisses to your neck and cheek,  sleepily walking you over to your room and kissing you goodnight at the door before returning, alone, to his room. 

But this night the recording session ran so late that you were both basically dead on your feet by the time you made it back to the house. If you were smarter, or at least thinking a little clearer, maybe you wouldn’t have gone to Warren’s room at all. If he was thinking a little clearer, maybe he would have brought you right back to your room and made you go to sleep. But you were both exhausted, and all you wanted was each other. 

So, you went to Warren’s room, where he was already half-asleep in bed. He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, and you happily slid into them. And then you were out like a light. You both were. 

Eddie Roundtree: Oh boy do I remember that morning. [Laughs] There have been very few moments in the time I knew Billy Dunne where I saw him so fucking angry. Personally, I just couldn’t believe I didn’t notice what was up with the two of them before then. 

“What. The fuck. Is going on here.” The sheer rage in Billy’s voice brought you out of sleep, blinking blearily around as you came into consciousness. It took you a minute to register where you were– wrapped up in Warren’s arms, under Warren’s sheets and in Warren’s bed– and a few seconds more to really realize the scope of the situation. Your eyes met Graham’s first, who was standing at the foot of the bed, just looking kind of shocked at what he was seeing. Eddie was standing in the doorway, his eyebrows practically up to his hairline, eyes darting between the pair of you in bed and your brothers. Billy was standing next to Graham, his hands gripping the metal bed frame so hard his knuckles were a bloodless white, his jaw clenched so tightly he must have been in pain, his face a menacing red. 

You half-way sat up and smacked Warren on the chest, a little guilty about waking him up from his peaceful sleep and into this situation. He took a moment to fully become conscious, too, but when he saw your brothers standing at the foot of the bed, he shot straight up into a sitting position. 

“Billy–” you started, but he cut you off. 

“No,” he said, holding up a hand to silence you. His voice was measured, but you could hear the rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Nothing out of you. What the fuck is going on here, Warren?”

“I–” Warren started but quickly stopped, sighing. “Billy, I think you know.” Your heart swelled at the fact that he didn’t try to deny or deflect you, even in the face of Billy’s anger. 

Billy just stared at him for a moment, and then he lunged, grabbing Warren’s ankle through the sheet and yanking the man and the bedclothes down to the floor. Warren landed with a thunk and a groan and you scrambled over to his side of the bed, reaching down to help him stand. Eddie and Graham were both protesting from either side of him, but Billy either didn’t hear them or didn’t care. As soon as Warren was standing, Billy punched him in the face, sending him reeling into the wall. 

You stumbled your way off the bed, feet getting caught in the sheets that were half on the floor, immediately coming to stand in front of Warren. You shoved Billy as hard as you could, and he stumbled back a few steps because he wasn’t expecting it. Your eyes blazed as you stared him down, vindication warming your chest as he seemed to shrink a little. 

“Back the fuck up, Billy! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted. 

“You think I’m just gonna let him screw my little sister–” he started yelling, but was cut off when Graham put his hand on Billy’s arm, quietly but firmly saying, “That’s enough, man.”

“Get the fuck out of here, Billy. All of you, get the fuck out.” The level of your anger must have been genuinely frightening, because Graham bodily ushered Billy to the door without another word. You stomped behind them and slammed it closed. 

Immediately, you turned around and rushed to Warren, who was standing against the wall, holding his face. 

“Warren, I am so fucking sorry, my god,” you said emphatically. Gingerly, you pulled his hand away from his face and saw the skin on his cheek bone and all around his right eye, up to his eyebrow, was red and already darkening into a bruise. You felt tears of frustration and anger pricking at your eyes. “I am so, so sorry. I’ll go get you some ice, just give me one moment.” 

Warren grasped your wrist before you could get away, and you turned your face to the floor, not quite being able to stomach looking at him. This was all your fault. You knew what would happen if your brothers found out– well, you didn’t know Billy would go quite as berserk as he did– and you had allowed yourself to get reckless. 

“Hey,” he said softly. His voice was still scratchy with sleep, reminding you of so many late nights shared between the two of you, fighting hard to stay awake just to get a few more minutes with each other. Your heart panged painfully. When you still didn’t look at him, he gently grabbed your chin and turned your face toward him. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking. This is not your fault.” 

The tears really did come then, and you looked at Warren’s face helplessly, watching the bruise get worse in real time. “I knew my brothers would react in a shit way when they found out, and I shouldn’t have let us get so reckless.” 

“I was the one that made us so reckless, and I wouldn’t change that,” Warren insisted. “I was tired of wasting so much of the time we could’ve been spending together. Am I happy I just got punched in the face? Hell fuckin’ no, but I am glad that everything’s out in the open now. That I get to love you out in the open now.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked sharply up at him. “Love me?” 

The whole time you’d been together, neither of you had said a thing about love. You couldn’t remember exactly when you realized you loved him, but you knew you did. You had just been too nervous to say it, too afraid that he wouldn’t feel it back. 

“Are you kiddin’?” He asked, as though you were joking. At the serious look on your face, his own expression sobered. “Let me say it loud and clear, baby. I love you. I would take a punch from Billy Dunne every morning if it meant I could keep loving you, keep holding you the way I do.” 

You were grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt, and still crying a little from the overwhelming emotions of the whole situation. “God, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I am going to throttle my brother right now for what he did to you.” 

Warren laughed. “Let’s not make this whole thing worse than it already is, alright? I don’t want this to cause any more problems between you and your brothers than it already has.” 

You fretted, but eventually gave in. “Okay, well at least let me take care of this black eye.” 

Warren relented, and you made your way to the kitchen to get some ice. The house was eerily quiet, and you were sure Graham took Billy outside somewhere to cool off before anything could get worse. You were grateful that he did, because if you saw your oldest brother just then, you were sure that you would slap the shit out of him despite the conversation you and Warren just had. 

Graham and Billy didn’t return to the house until late afternoon, right before the sun was going down. You were in the kitchen with Warren and Eddie, the three of you working together to cook dinner. Eddie had returned to Warren’s room shortly after the whole ordeal, grinning and congratulating his best friend for ‘landing a chick that was so far out of his league’. You laughed and hugged him, grateful for the support. 

Billy lingered in the doorway, having enough shame to look sheepish. When you noticed him standing there, you angled yourself protectively in front of Warren, whose back was still turned to the sink, and who hadn’t noticed him yet. 

“You better be here to apologize, William,” you said, arms crossed over your chest. Warren turned around, confused, and only then noticed Billy standing there. He took a reflexive step back, as though he expected Billy to try to hit him again. 

Instead, Billy raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I am. Here to apologize, I mean. If you’ll let me.” 

You nodded once for him to continue. “I was so out of line this morning. I was just– you’re my baby sister, (Y/N)! I don’t think any man in the world is good enough for you. And I was just shocked, is all. But Warren, I shouldn’t have hit you, and I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t… you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Every word out of his mouth was a fight, and you could tell. It was nowhere near a perfect apology, but you knew it was the best you were going to get out of him. You turned a look on Warren, deciding to let him take the lead on this. It was really his apology to accept, after all. 

“It’s alright, man,” Warren said, waving a hand dismissively. You felt affection for him bloom in your chest, threatening to take you over. He was far more merciful than you ever would have been in this situation. You reached down and grabbed his hand, and he squeezed yours back. 

“Warren and I are together, Billy. And you’re just going to have to get used to that idea, because I will go fucking crazy on you if you ever lay a hand on him again. You were there for the creamsicle incident of ‘63, I know you remember. That is the kind of crazy I will unleash on you,” you promised. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Billy nodded, his eyes widening slightly. “Just– just give me some time. To get used to the idea.” 

You nodded, and with that, Billy turned and stalked off toward the stairs, revealing Graham standing in the hallway. He stepped forward into the kitchen and gave the two of you a genuine smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy for you guys. I never would have thought of it myself, but you make a really good match,” he said. You beamed at him, maneuvering around the island to pull him into a hug. 

“Thanks, Teddy Graham. Love you.” 

“Love you, too, kid,” he squeezed you tightly, ruffling your hair before leaving the room as well. 

You returned to your spot at Warren’s side, resuming your cooking. Warren kept glancing over at you, the expression on his face somewhere between amused and impressed. 

“What?” you asked. 

“What’s the creamsicle incident of ‘63?”

tag list: @eonnyx @xleiaorgana

[l33bang24]

Night Terrors

Han Jisung x GN Fem reader

Summary: The reader has a terrifying nightmare about an event that unfolds in a fanfiction series involving her boyfriend. When she wakes up, her boyfriend is by her side, offering comfort and reassurance.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: nightmares, crying, blood, bruises, gashes, gore (let me know if I missed anything)

(Big thanks to @heybrownieboy for letting me use her Of Chaos and Spirits series to write about!! I hope you enjoy this short story ☺️)

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

Y/N’s POV

Today has been relatively uneventful. I initially intended to tackle some household chores due to my extra free time. However, I spent most of the day in bed, browsing through Tumblr and reading Stray Kids fanfiction. I typically try to avoid delving too deep into fan fiction about the guys, mainly because whenever Lee Know caught me reading a spicy story involving him, he never let me live it down.

I was looking through the Stray Kids fake text tag and came across an alternative universe series called Of Chaos and Spirits. I had seen it before when scrolling through my feed, but I never read it. The storyline starts with the female protagonist having extraordinary psychic abilities since birth. Not only can she see spirits from beyond the grave, but she can also communicate with them and other supernatural entities. To conceal her remarkable gift, she adopts the alias Eris. The author ties the reader to the group by having a supernatural entity haunt Jeongin.

As I delved into the story, I was engrossed in a scene where the protagonist and her friends converse about banishing a demon from a bathroom vent. The tension rises when Beomgyu alerts the group chat about his belief that Jeongin is being haunted. The plot thickens as I continue reading. However, I was taken aback when the protagonist suddenly becomes alert and turns her attention towards a fountain, sensing something peculiar in that direction.

The man before her had bloodshot eyes, and they seemed to be staring right back at her. His torn pajama set was caked in mud and stained with blood, while his skin displays an array of bruises and bumps. He also had a deep, ragged gash across his neck. It was dripping puss from an infection surrounding a large splotchy purple scrap. The chains dangling from each limb made him stand out the most.

As the story continues, I find that two of the members of the group were not only kidnapped but murdered by something that wasn't human. One was Lee Know, and the other was my boyfriend, Han Jisung. As I went through each chapter, certain parts made me cry, as though I could feel the emotions the author was trying to convey.

I was utterly captivated by the scene where Han was being chased. The author's illustration of his emotions made me feel like I was with him. After finishing the latest chapter, I call it a night and prepare for bed.

I was running.

I kept pushing through the pain, my lungs burning with every breath and my feet aching as if needles were embedded in them. But I refused to stop running.

I could feel a shiver run down my spine as claws scraped against the stone floor, and low growls filled the air behind me.

An army of hellhounds was hot on my heels, their fiery eyes fixed on me.

I pushed myself even harder, refusing to give in to the unbearable pain and overwhelming exhaustion pulsing through my body.

If I were caught, I knew I'd be torn to pieces, and that thought terrified me more than any pain I was feeling at the moment.

I couldn't shake the thought of being sent straight back to Hell. It was terrifying.

I found myself in a place I never wanted to be. Escaping was a blur, but I held on to the hope of finding safety soon.

The field would come into my view soon. Purgatory was safe.

As my thoughts drifted away, I failed to notice the menacing presence of the hellhounds creeping closer. Their menacing growls reverberated through my very being, sending chills down my spine.

I gazed upon the sprawling field, willing my body to surge forward faster.

A scream is ripped from my chest as teeth plunge into my neck. I fell to the ground with a wrenched cry as blood began to pool around me.

“No. No. No! Please, no!”

Grabbing at the ground, I try to lift myself off it, but it was useless.

The hellhounds had caught me, and I couldn't fight back as I felt more teeth sinking into my skin and screams of terror fell from my mouth.

As tears cascade down my cheeks, I extend my hand toward the vast field. My vision blurs and the realization of facing death once more engulf me.

“I’m sorry, Sungie.”

I jolt awake and see I'm drenched in sweat, with tears streaming down my face. My boyfriend's concerned face came into view as he gently asks, "Babygirl, can you hear me?" I nod, trying to avoid thinking about what happened. “You were screaming and crying out for me, but no matter how hard I tried to shake you awake, nothing seemed to work.” His hands rub my arms as he asks, "What happened?”

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer and broke down. Without hesitation, Jisung envelops me in a warm embrace, gently soothing me with his comforting words. His arms wrap around me, offering solace and reassurance. I nestle between his neck and shoulder blade, seeking solace in his comforting embrace. Time seems to blur as tears flow, but he gently drew me back and tenderly brushes away my tears.

As I try to calm down, I took a moment to explain to him what I had read earlier that day. I share with him the events that unfolded in the story I had read were eerily similar to what had occurred in my dream. Instead of teasing me about my fan fiction interest, he gently kisses my forehead and expresses his sympathy. "I'm sorry you had a bad dream, Jagyia. Do you want to watch a lighthearted drama on TV to take your mind off it?" Grateful for his understanding, I nod, managing a small smile.

As Jisung moves to leave the bed, I instinctively reach out and hold him back, silently dreading the return of my nightmares if I release him. He responds with a warm smile and gently tugs me along as we go to the kitchen to gather supplies for a cozy movie night. Not a word is spoken about my apprehension, and he lets me accompany him, understanding my unease.

As we reentered the room, he let me sit in his lap, where I curl into a cozy ball. By the third episode, a sense of drowsiness washes over me, and I let myself surrender to sleep, knowing that I was safe and secure in Jisung's embrace.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

Back with another request! If I send too many, just pick your favourites or ignore them :) also, with any requests from me you can do with !fem or !gn, whichever you prefer!

Maybe the reader works in like a library, or used book shop, and Eddie shows up all the time because he has a crush on her, but hasn't worked up the nerve to actually ask her out or talk to her more than like small talk yet?

Creep

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

[a/n] I'm so sorry this took so long, I'm working on your other request but I wanted to quickly get this one completed. I hope its okay!

[warnings?] religion contemplation? not proof read

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

He’d spent majority of his free days watching from afar, working up the courage to approach her, coming close a couple times but quickly backing out as soon as her eyes locked with his, sending him a small wave and shy smile before turning back to the book she’d been reading intensely. 

Eddie swore he could’ve fainted then and there, with the spring sun shining down on her features, highlighting each curve and crevice that graced her skin, she was like an angel incarnate. While he was the furthest from religious he’d happily declare his faith with her as his witness. 

 Funnily enough he’d been sent to the library to work on his religious studies, not because he cared per sea but because if he was going to play into the idea of being the satan worshipper he might as well make it accurate. Of course his friends had questioned his sanity yet again, almost fearful this would do the opposite he’d intended it to do. However, he wasn’t going to back down from the challenge so easily.

In the short time spent among dusty damp books and you, he’d quickly learnt quite a lot. For one your favourite book was the princess bride, the crumpled pages and frayed spine giving it away. He’d found a sense of comfort in your actions, seeing that while you presented yourself as put together and calm there was clearly a need to escape the present and live through the words of another, with no expectation of the now.

He’d also learnt that you seemed to have your other favourites on rotation, after finishing one you’d switch back to another worn down copy of a classic, taking notice that not one of them appeared to be Lord of the Rings. Perhaps if he even worked up the nerve to talk to you, he’d ask.

There were times when he’d caught himself staring for too long to not be considered creepy, while he’d tried desperately not to be. After weeks of lowkey stalking he’d given up, realising that you didn’t seem to mind, in fact it had become a sort of game between the two of you. From quiet flirting between the shelves and leaving small gifts in the others unmarked territory, it seemed as though you also enjoyed this.

Valentines had quickly approached and while Eddie was never really bothered with mediocre holidays, the prospect of actually participating had him shaking with nerves. The following day he’d walked in with his own copy of Lord of the Rings, dog eared and probably in worse state than yours, quickly placing it in front of you and blurting out his question without a thought.

“Be my valentine?” Stunned at his own forwardness, clearing his throat once more before continuing “I mean I’ve seen you around and I thought that maybe you’d like to go out with me?” 

A wide smile spread across your face at his words, his chocolate button eyes staring down at you in desperation as the silence stretched. Seems you both had the same idea though, as you reached down to grab your copy of The Princess Bride, thrusting it into his fidgety hands. Your words had failed but keenly nodding like a lovesick fool at him as you swapped numbers and arranged a date.

Which would be one of many to come

[late-to-the-party-81]

Love, Lies & Electricity - Chapter 5

AN: Hello all! It’s time for Week 9 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer and the end of this story. If you’ve enjoyed it, then please feel free to leave comments or replies on chapters or send me asks about these two 😀. Catch up on the previous part here.

All the love and kisses in the world for @drabbles-mc as my beta and cheer-reader.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 9 - Free Week - Optional prompt of W - Wet

Summary: Now recovering mentally from everything that happened, you wonder if you should let Bucky back into your life.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2k

CW: Hand-wavy science, Flashbacks, Bucky being charming, hopeful ending, fluff

It had been two months since you’d left the compound. Two months since you’d last seen Bucky. Three months since that ill-fated mission. It seemed strange, but slowly life was returning to some semblance of normal for you. You’d managed to get a little cash-in-hand job at a local diner to keep you busy and you were seeing a therapist that had been recommended by Dr Cho - one who you could be honest with without making any state secrets public.

One of the best things to have come out of the whole debacle was your new friendships. When you got a text one day from an unknown number it hadn’t taken you long to work out it was Yelena - you weren’t surprised that she’d managed to get hold of you. She and Kate had come to hang out with you a couple of times and it was both hilarious and uncomplicated. The girlfriends were so cute together even if they were opposite in many ways, but when Yelena smiled indulgently at her hyperactive partner, it made you believe in love again.

You also couldn’t deny you’d been thinking about Bucky. A lot. How could you not, given what he’d said before you left? You now understood why he hadn’t argued back with you when you’d confronted him - you’d been so full of hurt and anger there’s no way you would have believed him. Him walking away had been his way of giving you space.

You wondered if it was too late - whether you’d thrown it all away? So many times you’d held your phone in your hand, worrying your lip between your teeth, flip-flopping on a decision. However, on this sunny afternoon as you walked out of your therapist's office, the decision seemed clear. With one tap you unblocked his number and fired off a short text.

Y: Hey

You’d noticed the guy at the other table watching you for some time as you sat in your corner booth of the cafe, sipping your latte and reading your book. He probably thought he was being subtle, but he obviously had some kind of staring problem.

You wondered what he wanted. Also, there was something familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it, although you were certain he wasn’t one of them. You were good at identifying the ones who wanted to capture you - hurt you. There’d been a few over the past decade or so who’d tried - and failed - and this intense guy wasn’t one of them.

Observing him from your peripheral vision, you clocked how, once or twice, he looked as though he was about to get up and approach you, but then changed his mind. Additionally, he’d been nursing a glass of water for almost the full hour he’d been here and was on the receiving end of frustrated side-eye glances from the barista. Enough was enough.

Never one to be called a shrinking violet, even in your childhood, you shut your book with a hard snap, placing it in your bag. As you stood and eased your way out of your seat, Staring Man redirected his gaze down to his phone, scrolling down the screen in a manner that was overly nonchalant. Either he was the world’s worst stalker or he was being purposefully obvious. You had a feeling it was the latter.

The chair opposite him screeched across the floor as you pulled it out and sat down. He looked up at you as you extended your hand across the table, your own name falling from your lips. “Although I’m guessing you already know that,” you added. He had the good grace to look embarrassed - turning a very pretty shade of pink - and you guessed it was because you had been the one to actually initiate contact. He clasped your hand in his own and you noticed how his right hand was bare, but his left still had a glove on.

“I’m James,” he said. “James Barnes. Bucky.”

Oh, you thought, you mind recalling his name from news articles you’d seen. Now it all made sense - why he was here, why he looked familiar, and why he had one glove still on. You settled further into your seat. “So are you the spokesperson for the Hydra Weapon Rehabilitation Program?” 

His lips turned up at the edges. “Not quite, but something like that. We found details of your ‘time’ with Hydra, what they did to you, etcetera, and I thought that maybe I ought to reach out. Offer you the opportunity to talk to someone who can really understand. Friendship too, if you want. Kinda difficult to find someone with shared life experience.” He chuckled ruefully and plucked at a loose thread on his glove. 

You tilted your head to the side, thinking. Even before Hydra you’d been a loner, finding it difficult to make and keep friends. However, ever since your escape, you’d actually felt alone. Isolated. It might be nice to have someone to talk to in the middle of the night when the nightmares seemed all too real.

“That sounds… nice, Bucky. Maybe we could talk more?”

“Yeah?” he said with a raised brow and a charming smile.

You chuckled. “Yeah. However, you are gonna make up for your table hogging by buying me another latte, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a cake.”

His smile widened and it was as though the sun was lighting up the whole room. “Am I?”

“You are! That poor barista has been shooting you daggers for the last half hour.” 

It was his turn to laugh. “I did wonder why I was getting that itch between my shoulder blades. But it was worth it, to make a new friend.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you called out that you were taking your break as you made your way through the back door of the diner. It was a text from Bucky - a silly meme of a white cat - and you smiled as you looked at it.

Since you’d reached out to him a few weeks ago, the pair of you had been texting most days, mostly innocuous stuff about annoying diner customers on your part, and Sam being a jerk on Bucky’s. Sometimes there was the odd response that could’ve been taken as flirtation and it felt good. Comfortable.

You sent back a laughing emoji and almost immediately another text came through.

B: Hey, I’m gonna be in the city tomorrow - got a meeting with Pepper. Was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink. Maybe some food? If you want?

You started down at the message, your lower lip pulled between your teeth. You’d already taken one Bucky-related plunge recently - what was one more?

Y: I’d like that.

You laughed around your mouthful of dimsum, having to take a swig of your beer to wash it down, as Bucky finished his impersonation of Sam. The whole evening, since you’d met Bucky outside a bar just down from the diner you worked at, had been nice. It felt natural and easy, almost as though your break-up and the following months had never happened. It would be even easier to succumb to the idea - you were fairly certain that Bucky wanted to pick up from where you’d left off, but you weren’t certain that diving straight back in would be the best idea. That was even if you were interested, which again you weren’t certain you were.

When the meal was finished, both of you so full you thought the servers were going to have to roll the pair of you out the door, Bucky only put up a token resistance at you paying your half. You couldn’t help but flash him a cheeky smile in response to the eye roll he gave you when you pulled a handful of bills from your pocket - he knew it wasn’t worth pushing you on it. He’d told you before that you were too stubborn, much like someone else he knew.

As you go to the door, Bucky couldn’t rein back his gentlemanly instincts any more and opened it for you. However, as he peered out his expression changed from charming to concerned. It was raining and neither of you had an umbrella.

“Don’t worry, Buck,” you soothed with an enigmatic smile. “I got this.” You looped your right arm through the crook of his left, feeling the firmness of the vibranium through the leather of his jacket and let your power flow. You giggled at the way Bucky blinked as he was enclosed within your bubble. “Just stay close, or you’ll get wet,” you cautioned and walked out into the night, a supersoldier at your side.

Bucky was unusually quiet as you made your way down the sidewalk, although at one point he reached out with free hand to the edge of your barely visible forcefield. Only a small jerk let you know that he was affected by the small shock as his hand passed through it. When he pulled it back his glove was wet.

“Whatcha thinking, Buck?” you asked.

“Was wondering how you are able to do this now, when you couldn’t…you know… then?”

You rolled your eyes, but kept smiling. “Because I had time to do it. If I can put it in place before I get wet then I won’t get wet and have my powers shorted out. Hydra were well aware of that.”

“But what if you’re out and it just suddenly starts raining?” Bucky’s brow was drawn together in puzzlement.

“Well the odd splash or drop of rain doesn’t stop it working - normally I can shield myself before I get wet enough for it to affect my powers. I have been caught out on the odd occasion though.”

“Huh,” was Bucky’s response, before he lapsed back into silence again. It was companionable though and the pair of you strolled through the city, towards your apartment.

When you reached the door, you turned to each other, your grip naturally shifting from his inner elbow to his hand. His fingers curled around yours and it was clear that neither of you were ready to say goodbye yet. You felt your heart flutter in your chest.

You tip your head to look up at him and see the small smile on his face echoed in his misty blue eyes. It was second-nature to reach up and brush back an errant lock of his hair.

“This was nice,” he said and you hummed in agreement and watched the pretty pink blush take over his cheeks. “M-maybe we can do it again? Next time I’m in town?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied and shifted your hand so that your fingers were interlinked with his. 

You both fell silent again and your gaze fell to your linked hands and how Bucky’s thumb was rubbing up and down the edge of your pointer finger. When he spoke again, it made you jump. “I suppose I’d best be going. Let you get some sleep.” He stepped back, body half in and half out of your protection and the rain started to splatter down his back. 

Before you could think it through, you tugged on your joined hands, pulling him back toward you. Then, standing up on your toes you pressed your lips to his. Bucky froze for a second before his right hand came up and cupped your face. 

Your joined lips moved slowly against each other, soft and tender, and when he broke away you looked back at him with your breath caught in your throat. “I hope you’re back in town soon, Buck,” you said with uncharacteristic shyness in your voice.

Still smiling at you, Bucky slowly backed away, holding your hand for as long as he could until the distance forced him to relinquish it. Now fully outside your forcefield, the rain started to plaster his hair to his face, reminiscent of that night over three months ago.

“You know what? I think I have something I need to do here in two days, anyway.” His smile broadened into a grin. “Maybe we can catch up again?”

“Maybe we can,” you replied with an answering smile.

“Take care, Doll.”

“You too, Sergeant.”

With a final, cheeky wink, Bucky flipped up his collar and turned away, jamming his hands in his pockets. You watched him until he was just a small shadow in the night before heading inside, your heart light and hopeful.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive,

@sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots,

@crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic,

@loreniscrying, @scram1326, @hhiggs

@km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[divine-domme]

29

29. Do you have a favourite CNC scenario? Which is it?

Oh my yes. Crafted very specifically for one particular person, in fact (though I would be giddy to play it out with anyone). I want to hunt you. I want to hunt you and I want it to be transparently unfair.

I want to drug you before we even set out so that your head is swimming at the start and you will only get more disoriented with time.

I want you mostly clothed in colours that stand out amidst the trees, but your top torn open. Just the right amount covered to feel like maybe you could salvage just a little control if you could just get away, while sufficiently exposed to make it clear how impossible escape is.

I want to cuff your arms behind your back. I know you are already drugged, but it can't hurt to mess with your balance even more and make it harder to run through the woods. Make it easier to get accidentally caught on something.

I want you collared and tagged. I'm confident I could track you on my own given your handicaps, but this isn't meant to be a challenge - this is me playing with my food. (Also sending someone bound and drugged into the woods with no way for a sober spotter to quickly zero-in and find them if needed is a great way to get someone killed - necrophilia is not one of my kinks, so let's avoid that?)

Then I want to send you off with a shove. Don't worry too much about falling - I expect you to and won't immediately pounce. For one thing I'd still need to get my bow out and strung and ready, but more importantly? I want to be able to point and laugh at you, stumbling around helplessly, struggling to stand, and not even gone into the trees yet.

And you'll try your best, I am sure. Will try to run and find a place to hide, try to stay ahead of me as I stalk you. I plan to take my time and follow from a nice distance. Give you false hope, see how far you can get, at the very least let you go long enough to be a little winded. And then start shooting at you.

Realistically, at this point you will be so out of your head and tired that it won't take more than one or two blunted impacts to send you crashing to the forest floor again, but my hope is I will be able to tag you from enough of a distance that you can get up and run some more at least once before I reach you.

I won't take you right then, though. I'll pin you by the throat, get out a nice sharp blade, and cut you out of your pants. I will trail the blade up and down your exposed leg and tell you how much I am looking forward to consummating this hunt, and I will press the flat between your legs to drive home just how obviously you are enjoying being my prey.

Then I'll help you up and send you off again. I figure the amount of time it takes me to smoke a joint is fine. Again, it's my hope that you'll be into things enough that you will just take off like a scared little deer, but I'm prepared if not. In addition to helping me time things, if you don't run, I can just pick a bit of exposed skin and snuff the thing between each hit. Might not be the most convenient way to get a buzz, but that is a tertiary concern at best.

Then we repeat the chase, but this time even more desperate. You've already taken one shot at this and failed. You aren't as fresh as you were then, you have new bruises, and now exposed brush can nick at your legs. You wont get away. All you can do is make it amusing enough to me that I finish things next time I catch you - I could easily just keep striping you and sending off worse and worse if you don't.

But I trust you to be what you are at heart - my prey. You'll run. You'll be confused and frightened and hurt and out of your mind high and might not even notice when you the next arrow drops you.

Do it right and I'll take pity on you and tie your ankles together, let the chase be finished. I'll grab you by the hair and drag you down to the river to finish up and clean off. Even knowing what is coming, you'll be relieved. At least until then you don't have to run just hurt for me. And while the next bit will suck, after that it'll be over.

I'll put you on your knees by the river. I'll cut your underwear off as neat as I can. Then, as I fill you from behind, I'll move the blade to your throat and push your head under the water for a couple seconds.

I know your body will struggle, but I also know that you will feel more alive than you ever have. Every time I pull you up for air it will be the sweetest breath of your life. The water and steel keeping you there every time you go back under will be the sharpest cold you can imagine. And when I cum inside you, it will be the warmest and most welcome thing you have ever felt.

So yeah, I do have a favourite cnc scenario. I have given it a lot of thought.

Send me a number and I will answer your kinky questions!

[sanvirtheobserver]

Interlude: Rampart Duty

QUICK NOTE: This is gonna be a little different from a normal chapter, which is something I've considered doing for a while now. While Taking Flight has Tari's character at the forefront with most adventures, these Interludes will help give some spotlight to other characters and subplots. The idea is to give readers a quick breather from the main plot with a more "slice of life" or "classic blooper" format. Some if these Interludes may tie in to future story beats and may even become jumping off points for future fics, but for the most part they'll be more self contained to give the reader a quick break from the main narrative while also further expanding the AU.

Either way, I hope you guys like it.

............................................................................................................................

Not much is happening really. Bob is tending to the Void Material Farm, Kaizo and Melony are cooking up lunch, Saiko is absolutely SHREDDING it on Guitar Hero, and Meggy is getting in some target practice on the western ramparts with Uzi. Another Molded shambles towards the wall before getting its head blown clean off. Uzi plucks the spent shell from the action and places it in a pile before cracking open another soda.

Uzi: And that's 10. You'd think those military types would've had that place on lockdown.

Further west, a military perimeter has been established around where Elliott Manor once stood. A large mycelial mass has since grown over the foundation. Containment efforts are ongoing as Molded continue to arise.

Meggy: Yeah. They should be coming in with Flamethrower Crews tomorrow.

Another loud BANG sends a slug tearing through another Molded. Meggy places the spent shell in her own little pile.

Meggy: 17. Try and keep up.

Meggy reaches for the cooler and notices a small pillow fort fashioned out of sandbags. She walks over to take a look, lifting up one of the bags to see Kinger just sitting in there.

Kinger: GAH! Oh. Hi Meggy. Funny seeing you up here.

Meggy: We've........ been up here all day.

Kinger: Huh. I guess I didn't hear you guys over all the gunfire. Apologies.

Uzi: We got five more coming in!

A small pack of Molded makes their way through the brush as they limp towards the wall. Meggy immediately gets into position and takes aim. Another three shots from Meggy marks three more kills and three more shells in her pile. Uzi easily picks off the other two with little effort.

Meggy: You gotta keep your head in the game, Doorman.

Uzi: Hey! You try hitting something with buckshot from here.

They fail to notice one more Molded shambling up to the wall, managing to climb up the brick and reach the top.......... before being blown away and sent tumbling down with another loud BANG. The two turn to see Kinger standing in his fort with a double barrel in hand. He swiftly takes aim and manages to nail another Molded with a slug to the skull. His shots were on point.

Kinger: Best keep your eyes peeled. We have all sorts of nasty company coming in from the west.

They stand dumbfounded as he nonchalantly cracks open the chamber and loads a fresh pair of shells.

Meggy: Uh........ yeah........ Thanks for the heads-up.

Over on the east side of the rampart, Belle lights up a cigarette as she watches Steve and FM paving a new path into the woods below. SMG3 suggested making a nature trail to help bring more people to the showgrounds, which would translate to more potential customers for his Café.

X: Hey there.

X comes up the stairs with Minion hanging off his back like a Koala.

X: I heard you guys had a busy day over on the coast.

Belle: *chuckles* Tell me about it. Wasn't all bad, though. We made some new friends, and Tari even got a new toy.

X: I heard. I wonder where she's been. Haven't seen her all day.

Belle: She's off running errands with Ragatha and Saturday again.

He sets Minion down and joins Belle as they both look lean over the ramparts.

X: Kinda crazy, don't you think?

Belle: What?

X: Y'know. All this. Last time I saw Four, he still lived in Peach's Storage Room while Meggy was dragging Mario kicking and screaming to Splatfest practice. And don't even get me started on Three. It almost feels like yesterday when he stole the whole Kingdom's internet. Now Four has his own place, Meggy is a sports coach, and Three.............. I hardly even recognize the guy anymore. It's crazy how things change, huh?

Belle hadn't really thought about that. She had all but forgotten how much of a petty little s*** SMG3 was before getting sent to the Internet Graveyard. She looks back to the Airship docked over the Café. She can just barely make out Melony and Kaizo toiling away in the kitchen as if Gordon Ramsay was breathing down their necks. Her gaze turns to the courtyard where Boopkins and Jub Jub are playing around with Karen's kids. SMG3 is currently giving Eggdog a walk while Rob and Whimpu are over at Marty's grabbing a pizza. The sight as a whole brings out a warm smile, bringing her back to when she had a little crew of her own once upon a time.

Belle: Yeah. I guess we've all come a long way.

Minion wanders off as Belle and X hang out. She's exploring the walkway when she notices Zooble leaning over the side.

Minion: Oh, Pretty Shape Person! What are you doing up here?

Zooble: Just keeping an eye out with the Boy Scout.

She points down to Shroomy, who's currently having a rather heated discussion with Funky Kong.

Funky: I keep telling you, I'm just a humble arms dealer trying to make a living here.

Shroomy: I don't know, Funky. You caused an awful lot of trouble the last time we saw you.

Funky: That was over a year ago! I swear on my Great Granny's grave I'm not about that life anymore. Just ask Bob, he's the one I'm supposed to meet with.

Shroomy heads back inside, likely to meet with Bob so he can verify Funky's claim. Funky leans his back against the wall and impatiently waits to be let in. That's when Minion notices a black coated figure walking down the road. He inserts a fresh vial of Ether into a socket on his facemask.

Zooble: Hm......... black coat, wide brim hat, foreboding aura.......... I guess you must be Dr. Heilung?

The good doctor adjusts his hat.

Tödliche: I am he. Is Mr. Four present?

Zooble: Heh?

Tödliche: Blue hat? White overalls? Distinct presence on social media?

Minion: Oh, you mean my Dad?

Minion: No no, you must be mistaken. The man I've heard of couldn't possibly have a spouse from what I've heard, let alone any offspring.

Minion: He didn't need one. He made me with Uncle Mario's help.

Her answer got some raised eyebrows. It's evident that FM still needs to teach her about context. Thankfully, shroomy arrives to ease some of the tension.

Shroomy: Alright, Funky. Looks like your alibi checks out.

Funky: Ugh. THANK YOU.

Shroomy: Oh, hi Dr. Heilung! SMG4 was just asking about you. He's waiting for you over at the Café.

Tödliche: Excellent.

Zooble pulls the lever and the gates part. Funky is the first to enter as he heads straight for the Bazaar where Bob is currently tending to his stand.

Tödliche: Well, I be on my way now. Guten Tag, little one.

Minion: Have fun, Hat Man!

As the doctor heads to the Café, X comes rushing in from the east side.

X: Minion! There you are! I'm terribly sorry. She has a habit of running off.

Zooble: It's fine. To be honest, I could use the company with how dull things can get up here.

He picks Minion up and has her sit on his shoulders. She waves to Zooble as the two head back down. Zooble closes the gate and takes a seat. She can't help but chuckle.

Zooble: That kid REALLY needs to learn about context.

[thechildofmythal]

Feelings of Failure Part 2/3

I surprised myself and decided to continue this piece.

Read the first part here on Tumblr (there's also a link to AO3) if you like. It's the ending of the battle of Adamant Fortress. The Inquisitor returns from the Fade, is injured, Cullen is angsty and feels he has failed her.

In this second part, they're back in Skyhold and the Inquisitor is mostly recovered from her injuries. Cullen, however, has taken a turn for the worse. This is a canon-compliant but expanded view of the scenes in Inquisition where Cullen goes to meet Cassandra and then sends his lyrium kit flying across the room.

Trigger warnings: PSTD, mentions of self-harm, addiction, withdrawal symptoms, depictions of pain and trauma, body-dysmorphia.

I wasn't exactly ok with how in-game Cullen is ranting and hitting things and is generally fucking hurt, and all the Inquisitor says is, "You can" and then Cullen says "Alright", like that's it? No, that's not it.

So here's to the road to healing.

Read the second part here in AO3 (only for registered users!)

or you know, read the whole chapter under the cut because I love you guys.

Part two

words: 5183

After returning from the Adamant Fortress back to Skyhold in the back of a horse carriage, Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan had been bedridden to recover from her injuries. Healing spells and the best care the Inquisition could offer had her healing quickly, but she couldn’t help feeling useless. She was visited by her friends daily, healers a few times a day, her chambermaid Niamh took care of her and brought her food and tea, and she insisted on receiving reports on the aftermath of the battle. Josephine’s fine handwriting told of how she had informed the world about what had taken place in Adamant, Leliana’s notes were detailed in speculation, and Cullen’s neat handwriting was… not as neat as usual, she noticed.  Ellana squinted at the writing to make out the words. His report was short and very matter of fact. Cullen had not been in to see her at all in the days they had been back in Skyhold, but Ellana found a small personal note scribbled to the bottom of his report:

I hope you’re feeling better soon. It is strange knowing you are in Skyhold but not seeing you up and about.    -C

“Why don't you come and see me, then, if you miss me,” Ellana muttered to herself, drawing her fingertip over his handwriting, as if touching him instead of a piece of paper. Oh how she missed him. She hoped he was well - he hadn’t seemed well after the battle in the Western Approach, or what little she had seen of him during their journey back to Skyhold.

After a few days of rest and extensive use of healing herbs later, Ellana finally found her leg could carry her weight. The ribs still ached and were bruised, but she could breathe and move more or less normally. She was very happy to get permission to get out of bed and walk - the healer was very persistent - walk , not run or jump, around Skyhold to help the recovery.

The Inquisitor’s appearance in the Grand Hall stirred mild applause and appreciative murmurs all around. As she hobbled through the Grand Hall, many congratulated her on the victory in the Adamant fortress and wished her a swift recovery. Ellana thanked every one of the well-wishers, even though she recognised very few of them.

She was eager to get outside. Ellana noticed she had gotten used to sleeping and working and eating within stone walls, but she had spent too many days trapped indoors now. The Dalish elf relished the feel of wind in her hair and fresh air in her lungs when she finally got outside to the Skyhold grounds. She was met by some of her friends near the tavern, and more surrounded her as the word got around that the Inquisitor was up and about.

Iron Bull, Blackwall and Sera gathered around and got Ellana a comfortable chair to sit on outside the tavern. Dorian appeared from the library soon enough and arrived to give his dear friend a kiss on the cheek. He even made Sera move so he could sit next to Ellana. Even Josephine and Leliana noticed the gathering and joined. Ellana felt warm and happy to be surrounded by some of the best people she had ever known, even though she noticed a few of her inner circle were not present.

“How are you doing, Boss?” Iron Bull asked her eagerly as the people were gathering.

“Better, thank you. It’s so nice to be outdoors. If I was going to spend another day inside I would have gone mad,” Ellana laughed holding her side with her hand.

“Your well-being is our top priority, Inquisitor,” Josephine reminded sagely. “I’m sure it will lift the spirits all around Skyhold to see you up and about.”

“Yeah, everybody’s been all jittery while you’ve been stuck in bed,” Sera chimed in.

“What do you mean jittery?” Ellana asked.

“Well Varric’s not himself at all,” Sera explained. 

“It’s no wonder. The loss of his dear friend hit him hard,” Leliana said softly, and everyone hanged their heads in silence for a while, respecting Hawke’s memory for a few heartbeats.

“And Cullen’s too much like himself,” Sera broke the silence by continuing.

“What do you mean?” Ellana asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know. All shouty and pouty,” Sera explained flippantly.

“The Commander has been… rather anxious after Adamant’s events,” Josephine said, placing her words carefully. 

“The pressure of command can sometimes feel like a crushing weight on your shoulders,” Blackwall mused. “I think the operation in Adamant went as well as it could. Some losses were inevitable. Perhaps Cullen needs reminding of what a good Commander he is.”

“Indeed. Now that you’re up and feeling better, perhaps you could talk to both Varric and Cullen,” Leliana suggested.

With a worried crease on her brow, Ellana nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll talk to them both today. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

Sera and Iron Bull were there to change the subject to other, happier things, and eventually most of the troupe decided to have lunch together in the dining hall. Iron Bull carried Ellana to lunch on his shoulder like she was no heavier than a household cat, and Dorian fretted over her like a mother hen. 

*

After lunch Ellana asked around, and finally found Varric in the tavern. She joined him and sat with the dwarf for a couple of hours - mostly talking, sometimes just sitting in companionable silence. Varric downed a few pints of ale, Ellana emptied a whole pot of tea. She felt like having a drink, too, but knowing she probably had another difficult discussion ahead of her the same day, she decided to save the wine for later.

After Varric finally expressed that they had been going on about Hawke enough for now, Ellana paused and stared at the tea leaves on the bottom of her cup.

“Have you been to see Curly yet?” Varric asked, as if reading her thoughts.

“Nope,” she replied, still staring at her tea cup.

“You should.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“You really care for him?” Varric asked then.

“You know…” Ellana turned to look at him. “I think I really do.”

“He doesn’t seem like he lets anyone near him very easily,” Varric said thoughtfully. “But the way he looks at you…”

Ellana felt a flush on her cheeks. “What? How does he look at me?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Varric chuckled and shook his head. “He looks at you like you’ve cast an enchantment on him. All starry eyed and amazed. But to be honest, the way you look at him… ” 

Ellana had to laugh a little. “Yeah? And how do I look at him?”

“Like he’s the only man in the world, Lucky. Maybe you should go and tell him that. Again. You know, we’ve had this discussion before.”

“I know. I can’t help it if my heart has decided on a man who doesn’t let me love him as easily as I would like,” Ellana sighed.

“Love? Lucky, are we up to love already?” Varric asked and actually moved in his seat to look at her with an amused expression.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” Ellana suddenly placed her palms on the table and pushed herself up. She was happy to have conjured a smile on Varric’s face, but she was also eager to escape the question.

Ellana hobbled a few steps to stand behind Varric, still sitting in the same seat she had found him in two hours earlier. She placed a small kiss on the top of his head. “Take care now, Varric.”

The dwarf watched her go, and tenderly touched his head on the spot she had kissed. A small, sad smile curved his lips for a short while. “You too, Lucky,” he said quietly after she had already gone.

*

Ellana felt she was not fully recovered from her injuries. Climbing the stairs to reach Cullen’s office was surprisingly tiring, but her eagerness to see him kept her going.

The side door was open, and to her surprise and disappointment, Ellana found inside one fidgeting messenger, but no handsome commanders.

“Your Worship,” the messenger saluted immediately. “The Commander isn’t in right now.”

Ellana leaned against the door frame and lifted an eyebrow at the messenger. “I can see that. Where is he?”

“He’s gone to speak with Seeker Pentaghast.”

Ellana’s eyes widened, and she cursed to herself. Her memories of how Cullen had come to see her in the medical tent in the Inquisition’s encampment after the battle of Adamant were a little hazy, but she knew he took it all very badly. And after everyone she had talked with seemed to be worried about the Commander… This could only mean one thing. Ellana felt a lump of fear in her throat, and she turned to leave.

“Thank you,” she said to the messenger, who saluted again. 

Outside on the battlements Ellana stopped to take a deep breath. I should have sent for Cullen to come and see me while I was recovering, she thought to herself. I knew he wasn’t well and I should have done something earlier.

“Excuse me,” Ellana stopped two patrolling soldiers who were walking by. 

“Inquisitor,” they both saluted. 

“Do you know where Commander Cullen has gone? I think he went to speak with Lady Pentaghast?”

“We spotted him leaving his office a moment ago, Your Worship, but I didn’t see where he went,” one of the soldiers said.

“Can you find out for me as quickly as you can? I’m afraid I’m not in the shape to be running around Skyhold just yet,” Ellana explained apologetically.

“Of course, your worship. We’ll ask around and inform you right away.” 

With that, the soldiers were off, and Ellana took a moment to lean against the wall and rest. She distracted herself from her worry by daydreaming about the moments she had shared with the Commander in the battlements. Not in this spot in the middle of everything, but behind the western tower. And a few times in the secluded corner of the gardens. Once alone in the War room, too, after she had returned from a mission. His hands on her waist, stubble scratching her chin, leaving her lips reddened after all the kisses they had time for. A few times they had gotten a little heated, too. He had pressed her back against the wall with his body, tilted his head to kiss her deeply, passionately. She had lifted her leg along his, felt his hand trail along her thigh and grab her bottom. They had always had to break it off pretty quickly, usually because they were interrupted. But the way he looked at her with a lopsided smile and darkened eyes - oh Creators . Ellana was dreaming about the scar on the Commander’s lip just when the two soldiers returned.

“Inquisitor,” they saluted again, this time breathlessly. The poor sods had been running, Ellana thought. “Commander Cullen was seen going into the Armory with Lady Pentaghast.”

“Excellent. Good work,” Ellana thanked them and started towards the stairs. 

Soon Ellana approached the Armory. Her steps slowed as she heard shouting from inside, and her gut tightened in dread. The door was ajar, and she stopped outside to listen if they really were discussing what she feared they were.

“You asked for my opinion, and I've given it. Why would you expect it to change?” Cassandra’s strong voice sounded from inside.

“I expect you to keep your word,” Ellana heard Cullen’s strained voice. It made her breathe in sharply - was she imagining it, or did he really sound like he was in pain? “It's relentless. I can't -”

“You give yourself too little credit!” Ellana nodded approvingly at Cassandra’s interruption. 

“If I'm unable to fulfill what vows I've kept then nothing good has come of this!” Cullen sounded angry, and hurt. Ellana decided it was time to walk in. 

“Would you rather save face than admit–” Cullen stopped the moment Ellana pushed the door open.

Ellana looked from Cullen to Cassandra and back. They both stared at her, first, but Cullen quickly lowered his gaze, covering his face with his hand. 

“Forgive me,” he muttered, sounding both embarrassed and weary at the same time. Ellana took a few steps in and opened her mouth to stop him, but did not have the chance. The Commander quickly left through the door Ellana left open.

Cassandra remained standing where she was, and crossed her arms on her chest. “And people say I'm stubborn. This is ridiculous.”

Ellana stared after Cullen, and saw through the window that he was returning back to his office. He had looked awful - pale, tired, his eyes sunken. But he had sounded even worse - she had never heard him so strained and spiteful.

“I see you’re feeling better,” Cassandra commented on a softer note. 

Ellana turned to Cassandra. “Yes. Thank you. But I feel like I chose the wrong moment to be bedridden.”

“There’s never a good moment to get injured. The main thing is you are healing,” Cassandra’s matter-of-fact tone voice rang true.  “Cullen told you that he's no longer taking lyrium?”

Ellana nodded her head. “Yes, I’ve known for a good while now. I think he’s incredibly brave and strong to be doing that. I respect his decision.”

“I agree. Not that he's willing to listen,” Cassandra said and paused to take a breath. “Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him.”

“What? Surely it’s not -” Ellana’s voice was a bit panicked, but Cassandra cut her off.

“I refused. It's not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him. He's come so far.”

Ellana turned to look after the Commander even though he had already vanished from sight. “I was a bit out of it when I was treated after the battle in Adamant, but I remember he thought he had failed somehow. I’ve expected him to come and see me now here in Skyhold, but he hasn’t.”

“We had an agreement long before you joined us. As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers,” Cassandra explained, and continued in a softer voice. “And he wouldn't want to... risk your disappointment.”

Ellana felt like someone was squeezing her heart in their stone cold fist. “Is there anything we can do to change his mind?”

“If anyone could, it's you,” Cassandra said without hesitation. “Mages have made their suffering known, but Templars never have. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself - and anyone who would follow suit - that it's possible.”

Cassandra took a few steps to stand beside Ellana and look through the open door at Cullen’s tower.

“He can do this,” Cassandra said firmly.  “I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him.”

*

Soon Ellana made her way back towards the side door to Cullen’s office. Before reaching it, she swallowed nervously and tried to make up her mind on how to enter. Smiling? Frowning? With a joke? With a flirt? 

She did not have to decide, because the moment she stepped in the doorway, she heard a loud roaring shout and something hit the door frame only inches from her.  

“Maker's breath! I didn't hear you enter!” Cullen breathed out sounding horrified as she turned to look towards where the projectile had come from. She realised he had thrown something at her - at the door, rather.

“I - Forgive me,” the man’s form collapsed, his head bowing down wearily as he supported himself against his desk.

Ellana took a few steps in, careful not to step on any shards of… was it his lyrium kit he had smashed to bits? 

“Cullen, if you need to talk-” she began, but Cullen waved her away.

“You don't have to -” his dismissal was interrupted by a spike of pain that had him fall against the side of his desk. 

“Cullen!” Ellana sprinted to his aid - ignoring the pain in her right leg and her side. She ducked under his arm to support him, her arms wrapping around him briefly. With her help Cullen regained his footing, and he gently pushed her away.

“I never meant for this to interfere,” he said without looking at her. 

Ellana felt a sting in her heart for having been pushed away. She looked at him - he sounded defeated and in pain. She wanted to do something, anything, to help him, to take his pain and his doubts away.

“I believe you,” Ellana said meekly, and kicked herself for not coming up with anything better.

“For whatever good it does. Promises mean nothing if I cannot keep them,” Cullen snarled and sauntered around his desk. He stopped by the window on the back wall, and Ellana saw how his hands turned into fists.

“You asked what happened to Ferelden's Circle,” Cullen said, referring back to their previous discussions. Suddenly it all came pouring out of him, and he couldn’t stop it. “It was taken over by abominations. The Templars - my friends - were slaughtered.”

Ellana had heard from other sources something of what had happened in Kinloch Hold, but now she heard the full horrifying story, and realised what it must have been like for Cullen personally. 

Cullen had his back towards her, but he continued, his voice full of hatred and hurt. “I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and I - “ he let out a choke of disbelieving laughter, “How can you be the same person after that?”

Ellana wanted to go to him. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss his pain away. She wanted to help him. Ellana opened her mouth to say something, but the man continued.

“Still. I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall, I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what, hmm? Her fear of Mages ended in madness. Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets.”

Cullen’s strained voice wrenched Ellana’s heart, and she took a few slow steps closer to him. 

Finally he turned to face her, his eyes ablaze with agony as he threw his hands in frustration. “Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

Ellana reached to take a hold of his arm gently. “Of course I can. I - “

Cullen brushed her touch away. “Don't! You should be questioning what I've done!”

He walked away from her, leaving her to watch him helplessly as he paced back and forth in his office.

“I thought this would be better - that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won't leave me…” Cullen held his head in his hands. “How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause! I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry.” Cullen’s words sounded like a mantra now, and Ellana suspected it was something he had told himself over and over again. 

“I should be taking it!” Cullen hissed with insurmountable frustration, and suddenly slammed his fist against the bookshelf with such force that several books fell to the floor. He remained there, his chest heaving with heavy breathing, and he whispered, sounding disgusted with himself, “I should be taking it.”

Ellana was scrambling to find the right words. The man was in shambles before her. He was so proud and so determined it had probably been extremely difficult for him to go to Cassandra. He had probably been suffering for a lot longer and a lot more than he had ever let on. Realising it made Ellana feel a terrible lump in her throat, but she swallowed the tears and steadied her voice. She needed to get this right, or this would destroy him.

“This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition,” Ellana said as she walked across the room to Cullen. She slipped to stand between him and the bookshelf and sought for his eyes. “Is this what you want?” 

Cullen finally met Ellana’s gaze. She stood close enough for him to sense her scent. He was so exhausted, and ranting it all out to her had drained him. He was ashamed of his temper and of losing control in front of her. But there she still was, her earnest blue eyes meeting his. It was incredible. After all of this, Ellana’s eyes betrayed no remorse, no disgust, no pity. She was there, like the ever moving ocean is always there. Steadfast like the mountains, alluring like summer meadows, comforting like the sound of gentle rain on the roof.

He let out a long, shaky breath, and finally said, “No.”

He pushed himself off the bookshelf that he had been leaning against, and ran his hand through his hair. “But… these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse. If I cannot endure this…”

Cullen had brushed Ellana away before, but she risked reaching out for him once more. She cupped his face in her hands, holding his jaw, and made him look back at her. “Cullen. You are the strongest person I have ever met,” she said to him, every word weighed by emotion. “You have been through so much and come so far. Don’t take it. Please. You can do this, I believe in you.”

Cullen looked at her in disbelief. What did she see in him? He had bared his soul in front of her today, he had told her what he had been through, he had shown the worst of himself today. His anger, his fear, his bad temper, his weakness. To still have her kindness was unfathomable. 

Gingerly he touched her wrists with his hands. Slowly he pulled her hands away from his face and looked down at her hands, holding them in his bigger, gloved hands. 

“Alright. I won’t take it,” he said quietly, and let go of her hands. 

After a moment of silence, Cullen turned and paced back to his desk and lifted his hand to his neck awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry, I… I think I need to be alone now,” he said quietly. “I will take a breather and then return to work.”

Ellana inhaled deeply to steady herself. She knew what she needed to do next, and so she nodded in agreement. “A breather is an excellent idea.”

She promptly walked to the side door and locked it. Then she moved to the other side door and locked it as well. Cullen followed her with his eyes, his brow furrowing as he wondered what she was up to.

”What work do you have left for today?” Ellana asked, coming to stand by his desk, eyeing through the documents spread upon it.

”Please, I will take care of my -” Cullen began, but was interrupted.

”I asked, Commander, what tasks do you have left for today?”

Cullen blinked at her stern face. She had used her authoritative Inquisitor voice.

”Status update meeting with the officers, then troop training, then correspondence,” Cullen couldn’t avoid answering while fidgeting with the papers on his desk.

The Inquisitor promptly took the papers in question from his desk. Cullen was taken aback by her - he was used to seeing her exhibit her powerful and assertive side, sure, but being on the receiving end of it was rare for him.

”Alright,” Ellana said in a determined voice. “Cassandra will meet with the officers, we’ll revert your messages to Leliana and I’ll take care of troop training. An afternoon of mobility exercises will do wonders to the men  as well as myself, I think.”

”Mobility exercises?” Cullen repeated, stunned.

”What day is it today? It’s barracks inspection tomorrow morning, correct? I will ask Cassandra to take care of that too.”

”I will take care of my own work-” Cullen said in an increasingly annoyed voice.

”Yes, Cullen, once you’ve had a breather.”

”This is not neces-”

”Are you defying your Inquisitor’s orders?” Ellana asked sharply, looking at him in his eyes as if challenging him to try.

Cullen met her gaze, clenching his jaw.

Then the flash of pain and anger subsided. He took a deep breath in and lowered his gaze wearily. ”…no.”

”Good. I expect to see you tomorrow at noon at the War Room meeting, and until then you are off duty. It’s less than 24 hours. I’m sure you can manage that much free time.”

Ellana walked towards the door that still remained open.

”I will ask no one to bother you until noon tomorrow. But Cullen,” her voice softened and she turned to look at him, even though he avoided her gaze. ”I’m not telling you not to come to me. You can always come to me, today or any other day, and you need no excuse, no reason to. I want you to know that. Be it nine in the evening or two at night or first thing in the morning, I don’t mind. My door is always open to you.”

Cullen was not able to answer. He remained leaning against his desk heavily with both hands, unmoving.

”I’m proud of you,” Ellana said, her voice somehow soft and determined at the same time. Then she stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her.

When she had gone, the air stood still in Cullen’s office. He felt like a whirlwind had been through his room and his heart. He felt confused, he felt pain. He felt like an absolute failure. While Cassandra had refused to find a replacement to command the Inquisition’s armies, the Inquisitor had practically told him that he was unfit for duty and taken his work away from him.

What did he have left, if not his duty? He had nothing. An estranged and disappointed sister, and a lifetime of doing too little too late.

Cullen pushed himself off the desk, took a few tense steps around, and suddenly, with a loud angry shout, kicked his chair over with force. The chair’s backrest shattered against the stone wall, spreading the mess of broken things around a broken man.

*

Cullen spent a very difficult and painful evening by himself. The first couple of hours he had bristled with anger at himself, culminating in an urge to do something, anything, to distract himself from the derogatory thoughts and stabbing pains inside of him. He had held a fist against the stone wall, ready to punch the ungiving wall until his knuckles bled and cracked. He hadn’t - he had, instead, crumbled into a sobbing heap against the wall. 

He had held a knife, not really knowing what he was going to do with it, other than knowing that cutting would feel different to the pain that consumed him. Holding the knife and cutting himself would have him in control for once. He had ended up throwing the knife, and several more of them, at the training dummy by the wall. 

He had looked at himself in the mirror in his upstairs loft, wondering what he had done to deserve the kindness and attention of the Inquisitor. Of Ellana. What Cullen saw in the mirror was a man in shambles - a weary, tired, sad man, whose pallid complexion, dark under eyes and scarred skin could only repulse, not attract. Every time he looked at himself in the mirror he saw the scar on his lip. Every time he was reminded of the moment he had got it. Every time he remembered how he had not allowed anyone to heal him with magic. How scared he had been. He had crawled to a corner by himself, washed his face of blood, and stitched the cut on the lip by himself using a mirror. It had hurt in so many ways, and he had been sobbing all the way through. He had looked like a gargoyle with the badly stitched lip, and all these years later he thought he still did.

At some point Cullen awakened from his wallowing by a knock on the door. After Ellana’s stern words he really had not expected anyone to come knocking. He practically crawled to the door and cracked it open to take a look at who was there - thinking that maybe, just maybe, it was her . 

No one. There was no one. Cullen opened the door a bit more, and saw that someone had left a tray of food and water and tea out for him. He sighed deeply and took the tray in, then locked the door again.

An hour later he had managed to eat. Despite the nausea, food seemed to drive away the worst of the shakes. His hands were steady enough to hold a quill. 

Cullen stayed up until well past midnight, writing in a notebook. He hadn’t known what he was going to write when he had picked up the quill. As soon as he had touched the pen to paper, however, the words seemed to be flowing out like blood from a cut artery.

*

Cullen woke with a jolt. It took a while for him to remember where he was, and to calm his breathing. He was on his bed, still with clothes on, it seemed, and the morning sun was shining through the cracks in the roof. He had actually slept through most of the night. 

After a while he descended the ladder from his loft, and stood in the middle of the mess in his office. The broken lyrium kit still shattered all over the floor by the door, the pieces of the broken chair behind his desk, the torn and crumpled papers scattered around and the ink stains on his fingers and his desk told a story of an awful evening.

Cullen picked up the notebook, and read through everything he had written the night before. 

Then he rekindled a small fire to the fireplace, taking his time to nurture the flames. He tore the first page of the notebook away and burned it in the fireplace. The painful words on the page crinkled and burned and turned to ash. He burnt every single page he had written on, one by one, watching each of them catch fire, burn and vanish.

When Cullen was done with the notebook, he took time to clean. In an hour’s time his office as well as his private room upstairs were neat and tidy. He changed clothes, and after a moment's hesitation, stepped outside to the battlements to the sunshine and the refreshing mountain air. Cullen went on a morning run around Skyhold, taking the same route the soldiers used for training.

By eleven o’clock, Cullen had exercised, bathed, shaved, dressed in his uniform and sneaked late breakfast from the kitchens. He found Gatsi near the Grand Hall of Skyhold and asked for a new office chair. The chair was delivered to him shortly after as Cullen was opening all three doors to his office.

A little before noon Cullen concentrated on taking deep, steadying breaths as he walked from his office towards the War Room.

It was going to be alright, Cullen told himself. It’s going to be alright.

Read the third chapter here on Tumblr!

[s-w-h]

Character backgrounds:

Yoona: Your mom died a long time ago and your dad hates you for it. He constantly reminds you how it was your fault his wife died. That you killed her. So to avoid you he drowns himself in work and his new family. He sends money to your bank account every week, that’s the only contact you have with him. Your mom suffered from postpartum depression and it got to a point where she couldn’t take it anymore and took her own life. Your dad who was honestly in love with her immediately blamed you for her death. He wanted to move on completely and forget about his life with her. That also meant abandoning you. You were raised by many people, Nannie’s, baby sitters, everyone except your father. He’d come around occasionally to pay the Nannie’s. Every time you’d get so excited to see him but that excitement was always shut down immediately seeing as he’d never fail to remind you of your sins. Once you got a little older and started middle school you’d finally made your first friend, Naomi. You guys immediately became best friends. The both of you were incredible, you went everywhere together. When someone saw Naomi they saw you right next to her and Vice versa. You guys even started high school together. But once junior year started you noticed Naomi was slowly distancing herself. She seemed less talkative, and every time you’d ask her if she wanted to hang out she’d give some excuse that never sat right with you. You guys eventually grew apart. And even though you and Naomi were in the same class it seemed as if you guys were complete strangers now. One day Naomi didn’t show up to school. At first you didn’t think anything of it until she didn’t show up for the rest of the week. You knew something was wrong she’d never just skip a whole week of school. You called her phone again and again, but no answer. You hoped by Monday she’d show up, you thought maybe she was just going through something.You wished you were there to help but you’d definitely talk to her at school about it. Monday soon rolled around. The classroom is as loud as ever. It honestly felt like a normal day. The teacher walked in the class and everyone immediately sat down. And as you’re frantically looking around the classroom from your seat trying to look for Naomi you hear your teacher say

“There’s no easy way for me to say this to you guys.” He said choking on his own words “your classmate Naomi has been found deceased early this morning.”

It felt like the world had frozen, you couldn’t hear anything anymore, you could barely breathe anymore. Months past and you still feel numb. They say that before someone kills themselves they show signs of suicide. People kept asking you if you saw those signs, that question always made you feel worse. It made you feel guilty. It felt like they were telling you Naomi’s death was your fault, that because you didn’t catch the signs, that because you didn’t notice her cry for help, that because you didn’t save her from herself, you killed her. You felt as if you murdered Naomi with your own hands. After junior year you decided to transfer schools. Every inch of that school, of that city had too many memories of Naomi that hurt you too much. Everywhere you went she was haunting you. So you left, your dad of course never cared where you were so it didn’t matter anyway. You moved to a smaller town somewhere in the countryside. Moved into your new apartment, and got a job to keep you busy.

Soobin: Soobin’s family has always been struggling financially. His only family was his mother. His mom was madly in love with his dad and once he left after finding out she was pregnant she didn’t want to be with anyone else. He held on to the thought he would eventually come back. He never did. Growing up his mom worked 3 jobs trying to support the two of them. Sometimes she couldn’t afford meals for the both of them so she would skip meals just to make sure her son would eat. Soobin always had a great relationship with his mom. She adored him, he was her pride and joy. He was her only shot out of poverty so she pushed him harder and harder to get better grades. Soobin worked his ass off not only at school but outside of school as well. He never told anyone but he had multiple side jobs some were questionable, not illegal but damn near. Although he didn’t show up at school very often he was at the top of his class and he made damn sure of that. He wanted to reassure his mother that he would get them out of the hellish life they were living in. He will get a good job and earn money so he could provide for himself and his mother. He didn’t want his mom to work herself to death anymore.

Beomgyu: Beomgyu was born into a majorly rich family. His dad is the CEO of an entertainment company, his mom is a very famous lawyer and his older brother is the director of a hospital. Beomgyu didn’t feel he fit in with his family. He wasn’t particularly talented at anything, he wasn’t overly smart, and he got average grades. He felt like an outsider in his own home. His brother was 10 years older than him and they never got along. In fact his brother didn’t like him. Beomgyu was an illegitimate child and for that his brother looked down on him. Beomgyus' mom had an affair with one of her coworkers. As furious as the dad was he covered it up and made sure word didn’t get out about the affair. He knew if people were to find out his reputation as CEO would perish. So I decided to move to a smaller city. There Beomgyu was born. Growing up Beomgyu was always desperate for attention, Beomgyu would do anything if that meant he would have a friend. Fake or not. Many kids knew who Beomgyu’s father was, his face was everywhere it was impossible to escape him. Kids tend to flock towards him in hops to befriend the rich kid. Anytime the other kids would ask Beomgyu for something he’d give it up in a heartbeat. Anything to keep the friendship. One day while walking home from school another kid came up to him, he was from a different class. He didn't know him but he thought it would be fun to meet kids from different classes.

“Hey what’s your name?” Beomgyu said with a big smile

“Doesn’t matter, I just wanted to tell you to stop” said the kid

“Stop what? What did I do?” beomgyu said completely confused

“I mean stop sucking up to those asswholes.” Said the kid

“Oh, are you talking about my friends? Yeah I know there asswholes but it’s fine.” Beomgyu said still smiling

“Stop calling them your friends, you know they’re only sticking around for your money so why don’t you drop them. To tell the truth it’s pissing me off.” Said the kid rolling his eyes

“Well to tell the truth it’s none of your business. It's my choice who I’d like to be friends with or not. I am fully aware of their motives but I also don’t care.” Beomgyu said storming off

“At some point you’re going to get tired of it. And once you do, don't come crying to me because I’m just gonna say I told you so.” The kid yelled loud enough for Beomgyu to hear

Beomgyu didn’t think anything of that interaction. The next day he came to school but that day felt different. What that kid from the other day said kept replaying in his head. He sat down at his desk trying to get over it. The same kids like Beomgyu called “friends” came up to him once again asking for money, snacks, or whatever else they felt the need to ask him for at the moment. Beomgyu said sure and reached for his wallet. He always kept his wallet in his back pocket but today it wasn’t there. He frantically looked around for it, searching his bag, his desk and anywhere else it could possibly be.

“You don’t have your wallet on you?” Said one kid with an annoyed tone

“No I don’t think I do, I must've forgotten it at home.” Beomgyu said while staring at the ground.

“But it’s fine guys, I'll make sure I have it tomorrow.” He said to the kid

“Whatever dude, just make sure you have it tomorrow.” The kid said walking away with the other students

That day no one talked to Beomgyu. Because he didn’t have his money, the one thing that everyone liked about him, no one was willing to talk to him. This was the first time in a while that Beomgyu not only felt alone but was truly alone. Everyone went out for recess and Beomgyu sat alone on the bench staring at his hand praying the day would go by faster.

“Hey I told you they only liked you for your money.” Said a voice

Beomgyu looked up from his hands and realized it was the same kid from the other day. Once he saw his face he immediately got frustrated.

“I don’t need a ‘I told you so’ monologue right now leave me alone” Beomgyu said frustrated

“You don’t even know what I was about to say, why are you so mad already?” Said the kid

“Fine, what were you going to say?” Said Beomgyu rolling his eyes at the kid

“I was going to say ‘Hey my name is Soobin’” said Soobin reaching out his hand waiting for Beomgyu to shake it

“Why would I care what your name is? Beomgyu said storming off

“Well I just thought because you don’t have any friends today I could be your friend.” Soobin said following Beomgyu

“I’m good, leave me alone. You’re just trying to play hero so you can take my money like the other kids.” Said Beomgyu

“No I don’t want your money dude I just hate seeing someone get walked all over just because they’re desperate for a friend. Not going to lie, it's pathetic.” Said Soobin still following Beomgyu

Beomgyu stopped in his tracks and turned around sharply. “If you find me so pathetic why do you wanna be my friend?” He said staring Intensely into Soobin’s eyes

“Because you seem cool.” Soobin said with a smile

“What? That’s the only reason? Are you serious?” Beomgyu said cracking a smile

“Yeah, what other reason would I have? If I see someone that I think is cool, why wouldn’t I want to be friends with them? I mean it seems like a valid reason to me.” Soobin said

“Whatever dude be my friend if you want to I’m not stopping you” Beomgyu said still smiling

From then on the two were attached at the hip. Soobin never left Beomgyu's side. Beomgyu finally had a real friendship.

[thecontumacious]

"Among the thousands I've met, you are the only one my heart resonates with."

mysta rias edition.

he was ready to give you up. but you give him one last spark of hope.

a/n: this is for the long promised series i announced a thousand years ago because i’ve recently hit 1K, but now i’m 500 followers late since i hit that mark so—anyway, here’s a little comeback gift after disappearing for so long!

reminder that all my work and others in the fandom are purely fiction and intended to entertain, not to be projected irl.

vox akuma edition (tba). luca kaneshiro edition. ike eveland edition (tba). shu yamino edition (tba).

it was all but a rush for mysta.

he woke up that morning, a little later than he liked because then he would have to quicken his morning routine and sacrifice breakfast time with you

when he entered the kitchen, you're leaning against the kitchen island with a piece of toast in your hand as you scrolled through your phone

mysta, without fail, smiles at the typical view he gets every time the sun breaks through the horizon. just you in your pajamas, some kind of light meal in your hand and idly on your phone as you wait for him to wake up

"morning, mysta!" you greet, crumbs on the corner of your mouth. you wave him over to grab something to eat. "lucky for you, i made you something quick but filling. grab a few pieces and rush to work."

oh, and the fact you also remember his schedule, despite he himself sometimes forgetting them.

"thanks, babe," mysta grins, doing as you said and pressing a long chaste kiss to your lips. you giggle and poke his side, eliciting a small chuckle out of the detective before he says, "i'll see you later?"

"yep," you nod. "be careful on the road, mysta."

"i will!" he chirps, pecking your cheek one last time before he says, "i love you, y/n."

and he'll never ever get bored of saying that. no matter how many times, no matter how long, no matter if you reciprocated it or not.

"i love you too, mysta."

and that was the last thing the detective heard from you. not just that day, but the next day and the entire next week you were declared missing.

when mysta finally returned home, he panicked upon finding the apartment door forced open and the knob fallen to the floor. he carefully makes his way inside, his heart only dropping lower with every step he takes.

the walls are littered with scratches, the floor is dirtied with various prints of shoes and items are thrown around the apartment.

these signs of struggles...

"y/n!" mysta shouts, avoiding knocked-over furniture as he frantically scoured the rooms for even a breadth of your hair. but he found nothing, even with his detective skills. it's like you had just disappeared.

then he ran out of the apartment complex like he had never run before all the way to the closest police station where he begs for an officer's help, face flustered as he told them how he wasn't able to find you

luckily, since mysta usually helped around in the police station, they recognize him and is willing to lend aid in almost no time. they ask questions, they send for search parties, they ask for announcements to be posted.

but it's all to no avail.

no one had seen you. no one had noticed you go missing.

it was so infuriating to the point mysta felt like pulling his hair until he bled. he didn't care how much it hurt. when he realized you were missing, that was the greatest pain he felt.

he didn't even realize when was the last time he ate something proper. just a cup of noodles two nights ago-ish?

"mysta, please go home," vox begs, tugging on his friend's arm to get up from his chair. but the detective only shoots him a look with his painfully bloodshot eyes then goes back to tracing files as though he hadn't been doing that the past eight hours or so

"mysta, you're going to kill yourself," the demon pleads once more, attempting to stop the stubborn man by pushing away his documents.

but he's met with a scowl from mysta, "fuck off, vox. i don't need you telling me what to do. i'm busy."

he understood how important you were to him. how incredibly meaningful you were. the joy you brought into his life. vox completely understood what it felt like to have someone so special by your side suddenly disappear.

but mysta was also one of his closest friends. there was no way in the world he was going to idle by and watch him deteriorate like this.

"this is not what y/n would've wanted for you," vox reasons.

at the mention of your name, mysta pauses and for the slightest second, the demon catches him dwindle down.

"they're out there somewhere. they could be in pain, almost dead, scared! i have to find them soon!" the detective turns to his friend, fear lacing his orange-blue eyes. "i can't afford to lose a second where i could be tracking them down, vox."

"don't you think they would've rather you showed up healthy and well-nutritioned than in bones and barely alive?"

"they're barely alive! i'll eat something soon, okay? just... just let me find them please. i need to know if they're okay," is the last thing that drove vox to sigh and leave his friend be, pretty much giving up on him for the day.

mysta breaths a sigh of relief and his eyes are trained back onto the long blocks of black text on the desk, occasionally a few inserted photographs of evidence and possible tracks you might’ve left behind

but then his mind suddenly echoes vox's words from earlier.

he was right. him treating himself like this for your sake was something you would never allow. it's only when mysta imagines your figure looming over him, giving him an earful does he really feel his hollow stomach

he picks up his phone and orders takeout, the usual one you and him would order on late nights like these. when it arrived, the whiff of the food invading his sense of smell, the detective is spilling tears all over his papers.

overwhelmed with memories he can't wait to relive again.

as mysta spoons every bite into his mouth, he closes his eyes even tighter, refusing to accept that when he opens them again, he won't see you there stuffing your face with takeout

but when the box is empty, he's forced to face the darkness and his loneliness. you still nowhere to be found.

somehow, it's been two weeks since the earth swallowed you whole and no one, not even detectives greater than mysta was able to find you. with every passing day, the man's heart only shrinks and greys.

two weeks of nothing... there was no way you were still alive, was there?

every time this thought would make itself present within mysta's mind, he would slap himself until his cheeks stung, determined that he would find you soon.

but again, even with the entire police force of the city, it really did seem like you've been swallowed whole by the earth. the detective pressed for them to search further, even if it costed his entire life's fortune.

it took even sonny to tell mysta they had to close the case, no matter how much he refused to believe you were dead.

"please, i know they're out there somewhere! we haven't found their body yet so there's still a chance--"

sonny pauses him by holding his shoulders firm, a heavy frown on his face, "mysta, please. we've done all we can. we've checked city footage, we've asked everyone single person in this city and ransacked it upside down. they're... they're already gone, mysta. you have to let them go--"

"no! i can't do that to them! not when they've never given up on me. i'm not going to give up on them," with that, the detective storms out of the station and away, to who knows where. all mysta needed was some space from the world and a clearer head.

he reaches the outskirts of the city, with lesser people and quieter streets.

"please, y/n, where are you..." he prays, wiping the sweat off his forehead. but it becomes more than his sweat he's erasing. it's his reluctant tears.

he hiccups, continuing to wipe away the endless river down his cheeks, "please, baby. please, give me a sign. where are you? please, come back to me."

ding.

mysta freezes, his sobbing ceased for a moment as he fished his phone out from his pocket.

baby 💕 : mystaaaa come pick me up will you?

huh?

the detective blinks, rubs his eyes once, blinks again before he looks down at his phone. th-that... that was a text from you? his eyes weren't deceiving him?

no, it was probably because of the lack of food he's been eating…

baby 💕 : i'm at the train station

baby 💕 : i'll share my location

then an exact location within the city. and it really was in a train station.

mysta doesn't even waste his time to text you back as he jogs on over to where you were.

it didn't matter it was still a mile away. he could run a thousand more just for you. because you were alive and you're asking him to find you. nothing else mattered.

the entire run to the train station, mysta can feel the weight of the past two weeks evaporate off his shoulders. all those late nights crying over you, scouring the apartment for weeks on end, asking everyone he met if they had seen you finally comes to fruition.

he was finally going to see you again, hold you again, kiss you again and tell you how much he loved you.

the station gates finally come into view and mysta pushed the last of his energy to speed up. then he rushes through, ignoring the people who eyed him oddly as he searched every station to where you could be

he frantically looked here and there, but you still weren't sight. mysta kept searching though, no matter if it took him all night.

then he sees you.

your hair in the distance and the outfit you were last seen in.

just like the first he met you, mysta's heart skips a beat as his legs carry him forward to you. when you turned a corner, he did too. when you ran, he ran.

"y/n!" he called out, but you only run faster away from him.

then mysta catches you jumping onto the railway of the train, still speeding your way through the tunnels. he immediately worries about an incoming train and almost contemplated whether to follow behind

but he's been looking for you all this time. how is a train going to stop him?

"y/n, wait up!"

he hops down to the railway as well, ignoring the officers present as he chased you down through the dark tunnel.

mysta couldn't recall just how long he's been trudging through the dark, but after a while, he was able to see the bright end and your figure standing right there.

he smiled, jogging the last final stretch and for once, finally sees your beautiful face in the early evening light.

two weeks.

the most excruciating two weeks in his entire life.

but that didn't matter.

there you were.

"baby," mysta calls out, his voice broken as his arm reached for yours. you merely giggle and your cheeks redden before pulling your lover into a tight embrace, one that felt so heavenly and comforting to mysta.

then he broke apart, sobbing into your shoulder, "y/n, baby, i was so worried. please, don't scare me like that again. don't leave me again."

you pull away, holding his tear stained face in your gentle arms, "you know i would never leave you, mysta. even if the world tore us apart, i'll always find a way back to you."

"mhm," he nods weakly.

you lean up against him, placing a chaste kiss to his chapped lips, "always remember i'll never leave you, mysta. because i'll always love you."

"i'll always love you too, y/n," he breaths out, every single inch of his heart filled to the brim with his affection for you. "let's go home."

"wait," you pause, pulling away from mysta. you tug on his arm and gesture towards the continuation of the train tracks. you say, "can i show you something first?"

the detective raises an eyebrow, but seeing as it was probably important, he nods. "lead the way."

then you let go of his hand, running to where you pointed and disappearing down a corner. mysta chuckles and jogs just behind.

but he pales up with every step he got closer to the corner.

w-what was that stench?

it was so strong and stomach-clenching that mysta almost hesitated to follow you. what were you going to show him? what did you do?

"y/n?" he tries calling, but you don't respond. so he has no other choice than to step closer to catch up with you. his stomach begins to empty out, the worry in his head only worsening

then he finally turns that dreaded corner and his nightmares manifest before his eyes.

"Y/N!"

mysta falls to his knees by your side, the soul leaving his body with only a broken heart remaining within. his hands shakily reaches for yours and the other for your head.

"y/n, baby..." he hiccups, followed by a straggling sob as he pulled you over to his lap. he cared no more for the terrible stench, he cared no more for himself.

he cared if they had let you go easily. he cared if they ever cared at all for your tears and pleads. he cared if you still remembered he loved you. he cared if you were happy, wherever you were.

"baby, i'm so sorry i was too late," mysta cries, hugging your head to his chest against where his beating heart would be. "please, don't leave me. please, come back."

but who was he to think that could happen?

your skin had turn grey, void of any of the bright red you wear out for the world so proudly. your gentle fingers that favored brushing through mysta's hair lays limp and stiff. your beautiful eyes that used to look at mysta with all the love in the world now forever gone and never to look back at him.

all those memories he wished to relive once he found you... now stays in the past, whether he liked it or not.

"y/n, baby," mysta howled, caressing your thinned out hair. "i love you. i love you so much. i love you so, so much."

always remember i'll never leave you, mysta. because i'll always love you.

you... you had led him here. you took up your remaining seconds on this world to lead him back to you. you found him again, even if the world did tear you apart.

you came back to tell him you loved him so much, one last time.

"i'll always love you too, y/n," mysta whispers, pressing one last desperate kiss to your blackish skin. he hugs you to himself as he took out his phone, dialing a number and spoke with a broken voice, "sonny, i found them."

within a few days, your funeral was held, mourned over by family members, friends and most of all, mysta.

he who worked the hardest to find you, he who cried days and nights praying for you to come home, he who suffered the heartbreak the most.

"i'll always love you," mysta repeats your words, his swollen eyes pooling with tears once more. as they closed your coffin, all the detective could do was reminisce the very last smile of yours, the very last ghostly kiss you gave him.

it felt so real, so warm, so you.

now he stands before your grave, your name etched into the tombstone and a bouquet of your favorite flowers placed where you rested.

his tired eyes daydreams what you two could be doing right now. his broken heart imagines the memories you could be making at that moment.

for the slightest second, mysta swore you were standing right in front of him, smiling a goofy grin and cheering him on in his work.

mouthing 'i love you'.

"mysta?"

he turns and sees his demon friend, carrying a bouquet of flowers himself. vox places the flowers next to mysta's before he turns to his friend, holding his shoulder firm, "are you okay?"

he blinks, the cold tears finally falling out of his eyes. he wanted to say no, he wanted to shake his head, he wanted to curse the world out for taking you away from him.

but then he sees you standing behind vox, smiling and waving. when he blinks again, you're gone again.

this isn't what they would've wanted for me. they would've wanted me to be happy and move on.

"mhm," mysta nods, cracking a small smile. he looks into vox's eyes and feels a sense of warmth upon remembering his friends. not just vox. there was luca, shu and ike. there were the others from niji.

"yeah," he says again, this time smiling wider. "i'm okay. call the boys and get something to eat together?"

vox chuckles softly, patting mysta's shoulder, "sure, buddy."

the detective looks at your tombstone once more and he gives you one last smile for the day, "i'll see you soon, y/n."

quick illustration done by none other than proofreader-san owo

Masterlist!

[yeeunjia]

▬▬ [ENHYPEN] reaction to you both being in the same variety show !

idol!enha x idol!gn!reader

▬▬  enha masterlist, here. i write for both kpop and genshin! for feedbacks or requests send them here! (●'◡'●) feedbacks, reblogs, follows, or likes are appreciated!

▬▬  warnings : none ————————————————————————— lee heeseung 이희승 :  - literally can’t stop looking at you. it won’t matter if you’re sitting far from him or not. all he wants is just to be able to look at you ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა once the hosts start to ask about your ideal types he wouldn’t hesitate to say “they’re actually here right now!” all they could do was try to make heeseung say the name but he just makes them clueless. he usually doesn’t get the thought to do this but he knew that your reaction would be the cutest. gets teased way too much once your relationship is finally revealed, though.  ´꒳` park jongseong  박종성 : - tries to keep his cool but kinda fails. the way he would talk to you and how he’s softer to you than others would be too obvious. nevertheless, both fandoms love your chemistry and and you both adorable. he’d try to touch your leg with his and try to interact with you more. the urge to talk to you is way too hard to resist. also the type to make a few excuses so you two can be in the same team whenever there would be games. tries not to make it too obvious that he wants to stick with you, though.  ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) sim jaeyun  심재윤 : - both your members and his + the hosts won’t stop teasing you two. he doesn’t mind, though. he’d cling onto you eagerly and talk about how he finds your small actions adorable. the way you get startled, confused or start acting upset just makes him melt. oh lord, he’d get shy if he gets asked to sing the ottoke song , but, still does it for you anyways.  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) becomes your “pick me boy” in a bliss. fans would talk about how they found it adorable so much!! in conclusion, he’s whipped for you. (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡ park sunghoon  박성훈 : - too shy to try to get close to you even if he wants that so much. with that being said, he just tries to take care of you in little ways. he’d do things like patting you back or shoulder, reassures you if you make little mistakes, and hype you up!! you’re aware of the fact that he’s also not much of a fan of pda and you completely understands. however, he’d start babying you once you’re both alone. you know how he wanted to talk to you more when you were filming so just let him be!!  (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) yang jungwon  양정원 : - tries his best to keep it “professional”. he’s still the leader, after all. it wouldn’t be a hassle even if he doesn’t but he eventually wants it that way. ^____^ still, he fails misserably. the poor boy would try his best to lock his gaze on you even if one of your members are covering you (╥﹏╥) after some time, both fandoms were finally able to notice how the way he stares at you is wayyy different and starts making edits. still, you two found it cute and didn’t decide to complain. kim sunoo  김선우 : - doesn’t hold back whenever he’d want to talk to you. sunoo would eventually start being clingy even if you’re both filming. the hosts and staffs did find you both cute, though, so they allowed him to continue.  ( ๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ ) he’d actually feel comfortable, especially because you’re there!  tons of selcas afterwards, too!! he sees you as the person who gives him so much comfort without even saying a word nor doing anything and in result, he finds it hard to be away from you even just for a second.  nishimura riki  西村 力 : - naur. this boy would tease you so much but then get shy afterwards. starts sulking once you’re not paying attention to him, even just for a few minutes. extremely happy whenever the hosts compliment him and his skills and you’d agree! little glances here and there. also this adorable smile whenever you’d give him compliments too. eventually starts acting like he’s going crazy which made you hope that he’s still normal. (¬_¬") /j

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

[itsdanii]

can i req the iwa, atsumu, and suna being in a secret relationship w the reader and the reader gets insecure bc they wanna keep it a secret? w comfort after plspls

Hey, bubs! Of course, you can request ♥️ Unfortunately, I'm only taking 1-2 characters per request so I canceled Iwaizumi from the list. Also, this is only Atsumu's part. Don't worry, I'm still going to do Suna's part, however, it will be uploaded tomorrow instead of today. I hope you enjoy it! Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️

Secret Relationship

genre: semi-angst to fluff, comfort

warning/s: self doubt and insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. atsumu miya

maybe keeping your relationship wasn't the best decision after all

Atsumu Miya

You and Atsumu have been in a relationship for 2 years now

With the rising popularity of Atsumu, not only throughout Inarizaki but to the other schools as well, he decided on keeping your relationship a secret

Though you respected Atsumu's choice, it can't be helped that sometimes your emotions got the best of you

Random girls would always approach your boyfriend. They were basically anywhere, everywhere - at school, during practice matches, and even when you were both trying to have a simple date on a nearby cafe

You tried to confront Atsumu about it once but you only ended up fighting, him saying that there was nothing to worry for because you were the only person he loved

So despite the heavy feeling of insecurity looming over you, you tried to understand his side which eventually caused the both of you to make up

You tried to ignore the insecurity and put your trust on Atsumu

But maybe sometimes, trust isn't just enough

"Y/n, someone's looking for you."

You lifted your gaze from the book you were reading, eyes snapping towards the direction of the door where two unfamiliar students were currently standing and waiting for you.

Even without having the need to hear what they needed you for, you instantly knew why they're here. For the past weeks, after Inarizaki's defeat against Karasuno, you've been bombarded by several girls, holding chocolates and teddy bears in hand, asking you to deliver them to Atsumu since they were afraid of giving it to him directly. So, as his "bestfriend," they wanted you to give it to him instead.

And although you wanted to be mad and scream at them to stop, you couldn't just do that. It would be wrong for you to snap at them since nobody, aside from Suna and Osamu, knew about you and Atsumu's relationship.

Sighing loudly, you shut the book you were reading and went over to the two girls with a semi-forced smile. "For 'Tsumu?" you asked, taking the paperbag from them and taking a peek of what's inside.

One of the girls nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling as she fanned her face with her hands. "Yes, please! I really really like Atsumu and the way he played from the previous match was so splendid! With every spike, I can't help but fall in love even more!"

You could only chuckle at what she said because even though there was a feeling of jealousy inside of you, you wouldn't be able to deny that what she said was true. You loved how he was able to inspire other people through sports and you couldn't be more proud of being his s/o.

"Please hand this letter to Atsumu, senpai!" the other girl said, bowing down as she handed you a letter.

You reluctantly took the envelope from her, your body becoming stiff as you muttered a small "Okay."

"I put all my feelings and support in that letter so I'd really appreciate if you handed it to him," she said with a smile.

Just how were you supposed to tell these girls to stop giving you stuff and ordering you to hand them over to your boyfriend? You weren't the type of person who would hinder others to relay their feelings. In fact, it wasn't your job to blatantly tell them to give up. It was Atsumu's responsibility, not yours.

But it wasn't your obligation to be their messenger as well.

Torn between two sides, you decided on maintaining a polite smile, giving the two juniors a pat on the head before nodding. "I'll make sure to deliver these to him, okay? Now, go back to your classroom and study well."

The two girls glanced at each other, eyes sparkling before smiling at you. "Thank you so much!" Turning around, the two went on their way, squealing slightly at their successful mission.

You, on the other hand, sighed and stared at the paperbag with a small frown. "Guess that's two more girls on the list," you mumbled before slipping back inside your classroom.

-

When the class ended, you immediately headed to the gym where you knew Atsumu was currently training. With the paperbag and 2 more boxes of chocolate given by some fangirls along the way, you entered the gym and placed the items down on the empty bench.

"That fer me, angel?" came Atsumu's voice from behind you.

Spinning around, you were met with a grinning Atsumu before getting engulfed with a warm hug. Sighing with your eyes closed, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, unconsciously gripping the back of his jersey. You couldn't help but bury your face more to his chest despite the slight sweat clinging to his clothes.

"Ya alright?" Atsumu murmured beside your ear, worry obviously evident on his tone as he slightly squeezed you.

As you were about to answer, someone from behind Atsumu cleared their throat. Your small moment was immediately cut off and Atsumu reeled back as if you were caught doing something wrong.

The comfort he brought awhile ago was instantly replaced by uncertainty and insecurity, making your heart throb as you bit your lower lip.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Aran asked while shifting his gaze between you and Atsumu.

With a forced chuckle, Atsumu was quick to scratch the back of his head. "It's fine. I was just givin' y/n here a hug. They seem kinda down. Ya know, bestfriend duties."

Bestfriend.

"Ah.." Aran simply muttered with a slow nod. "Practice is almost done. Why don't ya sit down while we cool down and clean up?"

Sitting down on the bench, you looked at Aran with a small smile before nodding. "Okay," you said before turning your head to Atsumu's direction. His eyebrow was already raised as if asking you whether you were fine or not.

"I'm fine Atsumu. I'll wait for you here."

When the boys went back to the court, you were left alone to ponder with your thoughts. It felt as if the sounds around you suddenly died, your self doubts once again making its presence known.

You knew how much Atsumu loves you. In fact, he never failed to remind you everyday. Not once did he forgot to say it and express it through actions, or at least when you were both alone.

Everytime you were in school, he would deny your relationship. When people asked if you were his s/o, he would simply shake his head and claim you as his bestfriend. It really didn't bother you at first but as the time passed, you were slowly starting to question why he would do such thing.

Though he claimed that it was to avoid people from harassing you and picking on you, was it really? What if there was a deeper reason?

What if he was slowly getting tired of you? What if he didn't even liked you in the first place?

You anxiously tapped your foot on the floor at the thought. Gripping the hem of your hoodie, you stared at the gifts you brought from his fangirls. You knew that it was an act of invading someone's privacy but you couldn't help but reach for the letter given by your junior awhile ago.

You took a quick glance at the boys, checking if they were still cooling down, before opening the envelope slowly. As you read on the letter, you unconscious tapped your foot faster on the floor, your grip on the paper tightening as you let each words sink into you.

Bit by bit, you absorbed what was written on the paper, making the unpleasant feeling inside you deepen. You wouldn't deny that the letter was well written and you were certain that if it was handed to Atsumu by that girl personally, she might be able to get his attention.

After all, she was pretty. She looked like a bubbly person and someone who people would easily get along with. There was an optimistic aura around her which you knew Atsumu would appreciate.

And maybe if-

"Y/n."

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Atsumu's hand touching your shoulder.

Jolting up slightly, you looked up at him with wide eyes, immediately noticing the worried expression on his face. "Tsumu.." you mumbled with a shaky voice, your eyes glossing with tears as your lips trembled.

Atsumu was quick to sit down beside you. Lifting you up, he sat you down on his lap and nestled your face on the side of his neck, knowing how much you hated it when people see you crying.

"Y-your teammates," you mumbled against his skin, hiding your face even more as you tightened your grip on the letter you were holding, almost crumpling it.

"Let's worry about them later, alright, angel? Yer my priority and ya know that," he answered while rubbing your back, "Now, tell me what happened. Why are ya crying?"

With the overwhelming emotions surrounding you, it took you a few seconds before you could answer, and you were thankful that Atsumu was patient enough to wait instead of forcing you. "Do you really love me, Tsumu?"

You felt Atsumu stiffen at your question and for a biref moment, you were scared of hearing the answer.

Was this it? Was he really lying to you all this time?

"Look at me, angel," Atsumu said, slightly pulling away from his embrace to cup your cheeks in his hands. "Of course, I do. Where is this coming from? Did somebody-"

"No," you cut him off. "It's just that... you always tell people that we're nothing but bestfriends. I can't always have my moments with you because you want to hide our relationship. It didn't really matter at first but... because of your constant denial, your fangirls would keep sending me these random stuffs and ask me to give them to you. I'm scared, Tsumu. What if one day you get tired of me... or worse, what if it's me who gets tired? I don't like this set-up..."

"Y/n-"

"I want to be able to express my feelings. I want the people to know that you're mine. Why can't you show them that you love me, Tsumu?... Do you even love me?"

Atsumu was left speechless as he listened to your words. All he could do was rub your back soothingly while listening to you as you let everything out. As you did, the guilt inside of him kept on piling up, enough to make him clench his jaw at how disappointed he was at himself for making you cry.

"Of course, I do. I love ya so much, angel. Don't ever ferget that. I'm sorry fer not taking yer feelings in consideration. I didn't know that ya have been feeling this way fer quite a while now. I really thought that we were already fine after our first argument about this but.. I guess I should've paid more attention," Atsumu said while staring at you, his hands still cupping your cheeks to angle your face to him. "The reason why I wanted to hide our relationship was fer people not to bother ya. It wasn't my intention to make ya feel insecure. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, angel." Wiping your cheeks with his thumb, Atsumu leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. "Would it make ya feel better if we open our relationship to other people? No more hiding it."

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "Mhm, yes, please."

"Alright, if that's what ya want."

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP Angsty Imagines - React to Your Death pt. 3 --- c!Wilbur Soot

Part 3 to my series of “dsmp boys react to your death”:  Pronouns used: they/them (if mentioned) Warnings: explosions, spoilers for the events of Dream SMP, death, grief Words: 1.3+

The list: c!George c!Bench Trio c!Wilbur - (you are currently on this post)  c!Dream c!Technoblade - (coming soon!)

You had tried convincing your boyfriend not to blow up L’Manburg. But Wilbur Soot wouldn’t listen to you. He wouldn’t listen to anyone. Not in this state.

It had been a long time coming, honestly. Everyone should have noticed the signs. You should have noticed the signs, but it wasn’t as if you were actively looking for a reason to paint your lover as an insane psychopath. 

For months, Wilbur had slowly been descending into insanity. Looking back, the tells were all there. Very irregular sleeping patterns; sleeping not at all and then way too much, days when it seemed as if his emotions had been completely turned off, days when his temper seemed too volatile, the times when you’d catch him obsessing over books explaining the mechanics of tnt. It had all been laid in front of you, but you were too blind. 

That’s the thing about love, children. You either find yourself forced into relationships that make you unhappy or find yourself so in love with someone that it practically erases reality and judgment. There are a few lucky people. A few who find the loves of their lives and spend the remainder of their days in perfect happiness. No intoxicating amounts of infatuation, no feelings of emotional claustrophobia. You were not one of those lucky people. Not at all.

It was already too late to turn back by now. The two of you were already heading to the Button Room. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity were supposed to be with you, but they didn’t agree with Wilbur’s plan, so they stayed behind.

The three had been desperately trying to convince Wilbur to step down, to destroy the button and give up on his wild fantasies of watching his unfinished symphony burn to the ground. But that hadn’t worked, So they turned to you.

And as much as you agreed with their reluctance - and disagreed with your boyfriend, you had to support him. For that’s what he did with you. When you had been a newcomer to the server and no one would help you, he did. At the very least you owed him that. But you were beginning to doubt how far your support would actually go when you found yourself standing in the button room.

You and Wilbur looked up at all of the signs on the walls, each singing L’Manburg’s National Anthem in your head.

I heard there was a special place where men could go and emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers Well, this place is real you needn’t fret with Wilbur-

“You’ve been so good to me, Y/n.” Wilbur’s unusually quiet voice interrupted the anthem playing in your mind.

“I’m your partner, Will. I’m also your friend. It’s my job.” For some reason, you could bring yourself to say it was because you loved him. Your heart knew it was because you didn’t love him anymore. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It was a different type of love now. Much less blinding, and much more clear.

Wilbur reached up a faintly-scarred hand to touch one of the signs on the walls. “You’ve stuck by me and supported me even when no one else did.”

You could feel your face begin to heat up. “Will, about that.... Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

Your boyfriend whirled around at that. And for some reason, your mind began to sing the National Anthem once more.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“Don’t flake out on me now, Y/n. We’re so incredibly close. We’ve come this far together. You can’t possibly be thinking of abandoning me?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, sending ominous shivers down your spine.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“No! Of course not! I just think it would... make sense if you... thought about this some more,” you stammered, desperately fumbling for the right words.

Wilbur stepped toward you suddenly and you flinched backwards. He didn’t seem to notice - or care. “Y/n, if you don’t support me in this plan, I have no choice but to kill you. You know too much. And yes, I do remember that you’re on your last life. That changes nothing.”

Your thoughts froze, so did you. Never, did you expect him to go this far. Sure, you’d been aware of the fact that he was slowly becoming insane for weeks, but threatening your life? That was something you could never prepare yourself for.

You were trapped. Either way, you were pretty sure you’d die. If you agreed, the explosions would kill you. If you didn’t, Wilbur would. 

For freedom and for liberty our nation sought to build on these a victory for all under our freedom

“I’m going through with the plan, Will. We’re going through with it.”

Well the darkness came and then it went we built a home and watched it sink and from the rubble emerged my great-

Once again, the anthem in your head was interrupted. This time by Philza. Philza Minecraft. Your boyfriend’s father.

Your heart raced as it realized how close to pressing the button Will had been only heartbeats before. Philza and Wilbur were having a whole debate in the background. It was only when your name was called that you snapped out of your trance.

“Y/n?” Will asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Your head snapped up. “Yes?”

You almost shut down at the sad acceptance in Wilbur’s eyes. Had it worked? Had Phil really talked him out of pressing the button and triggering the tnt?

“Phil here has convinced me that maybe the button isn’t worth pressing.”

Hope sprung in your chest. It spread its wings.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

Your boyfriend leaned down to hug you, head resting on your shoulder as his back faced Phil. You were just about to hug him back when his whispered voice reached your ears, making you shiver.

“It’s all up to you now, Y/n.”

He straightened and left the Button Room, but not before giving you a pointed glance. 

With bloodied hands and weakened knees.

Your body felt frozen, pinned by impossible choices. By the future and the past.

“Y/n?” Philza’s concerned voice carried across the cave. “Are you okay?”

You scrambled for a convincing enough excuse. “Y-yeah. I just need a moment. Today has been... rough.” None of that was a lie.

With a slight furrow of his brows, Phil nodded. He began walking away.

Our people rose like the phoenix

You stopped him, though. “Philza.”

He turned around.

Our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree

“There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor, once a part of L’Manburg.”

Phil didn’t know how to react. He just nodded, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere, the tension.

With sweat and tears we armed our ranks we laid foundations in our land

“Have you ever heard of Eret?”

Once again, Philza only nodded.

You could feel your body heat up with anticipation. The moment was nearing.

And from every lips for here up to infinity

“Yeah, he had a saying, Phil.” You felt your fingertips ghost the surface of the button.

We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg

“It was never meant to be.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-

Wilbur Soot was too busy smiling at the series of explosions going off behind him to realize the fact that you were dead.

And even when those around him cried as they mourned your death, not a single tear streaked down his cheek. No pang of sadness or remorse was felt by this man who had strayed too far down the path of insanity.

Perhaps once, he would have torn up the world looking for a way to revive you. But that Wilbur was long gone. That Wilbur was the one you’d fallen for, the one you’d follow to the ends of the server.

But you’d failed to realize that the Wilbur of today was not the Wilbur you loved. And that mistake turned out to be fatal.