#you know he was trying to convince himself and then she's just like I know you are I don't need convincing I'll convince YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 days ago

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a/n: another instalment of the tik tok mat series! featuring liana! this was another suggestion from an anon and i just love writing these three and their dynamic so this was fun - i hope you guys enjoy 😊

word count: 3.2k

tw: nothing but good clean fun

summary: during a visit, you and liana convince mat to join you in another tik tok video, with a twist

“What are you two plotting?” Mat’s sudden appearance in the kitchen startles you and you jump a little. Next to you, Liana yelps and smacks her knee against the cabinet.

“Ow, fuck,” she mutters, reaching down to rub at the spot that’ll definitely be bruised tomorrow. She scowls at Mat, which he ignores.

“Jesus,” you sigh, closing your eyes briefly while your heartbeat gets back to normal. “We’re not plotting.” Your tone is slightly petulant.

Mat comes up behind you and slots himself at your back, arms on either side of you caging your body against the kitchen island. He kisses the back of your neck and play humps your ass.

Liana fake gags, sticking her index finger in her mouth. “You’re disgusting. And what she said. Plotting makes it sound so nefarious, we’re just planning something,” she kicks at Mat’s socked foot with her own and he kicks back.

“Plotting, planning. Same difference when it comes to you two,” Mat retorts, keeping his chest pressed to your back when he leans in to grab a tortilla chip out of the open bag on the counter and swipe it through the bowl of guac in front of you. He chomps noisily on the chip, right in your ear, and you reach back to swat at his stomach. Mat takes a small step back so he’s not as loud in your ear.

“Don’t get guac on me,” you complain a little, trying to wiggle out of Mat’s embrace. All it serves to do is get your ass pressed against his crotch. Mat laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back against him.

He presses a kiss behind your ear and mutters quietly, “say the word and I’ll kick Li out right now.”

Your laugh is overshowdowed by Liana’s outraged cry of, “I can hear you, dumbass! I’m standing right next to you!”

“In the kitchen that I own,” Mat shoots back, still hugging you.

Before they start bickering even more and derail yours and Liana’s plans, you hold up your hands and shoot a wide-eye, raised eyebrows look at your boyfriend’s sister. “How about we don’t turn a lovely visit into a Barzal brawl?” You say, tone placating.

Liana immediately relaxes, her lips tipping up in a half-smile. Mat’s arm loosens around your shoulders and you lean easily against his chest.

“Yeah, okay,” they both mutter at the same time and you can’t help but laugh at the identical tone and inflection.

Mat’s hips work lazily against your ass and you know it’s a subconscious movement, a tic that he can’t help when he’s pressed close to you. It used to be insanely distracting, but you’re so used to it by now, you barely even notice anymore.

“Why don’t you join us for a Tik Tok?” You ask Mat, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look up at him. “Liana and I have like a whole bunch of videos we want to make while she’s here.”

It’s a partially true statement. You do have a couple of videos that would be fun to make with her while she’s visiting for a long weekend, but conning Mat into a video is the main plan.

“Your videos always do the best when I join,” Mat brags in an overly smug tone. He kisses your forehead and you know he’s teasing. But again, another partially true statement. You had a solid social media following, but once you started dating Mat, your follower count exploded and the videos that he pops up in are the ones that get shared the most. Especially on Twitter and the random fan cams you stumble on while you scroll.

Liana scoffs. “God, the ego on you is ridiculous,” she tosses a grape at Mat’s head. He catches it and pops it into his mouth, grinning.

“I could boost your following too, Li,” he offers. “I know you get a bump when I appear. It’s my natural charm and charisma.”

Both you and Liana burst out laughing, drowning out Mat’s offended protests. He complains that you’re being mean to him and you turn in his arms to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, tasting salt from the tortilla chip and cilantro from the guac. “Shush,” you tease, “we’re keeping you humble.”

He scowls at you, nose wrinkling, and you press your lips together to smother a smile because he’s adorable when he’s annoyed.

“If you’re mean to me, I’m leaving the video,” he warns finally. You know he doesn’t mean it, Mat loves being part of yours and Liana’s business too much.

“If you two are done playing grab ass,” Liana interrupts, sure enough, Mat’s hands are gripping your ass cheeks like his life depends on it. “Can we get filming before we have to get changed for dinner?”

You slip away from Mat with a giggle and grab your coffee mug off the counter, your phone in your other hand. Mat grabs the Tostitos and the guac and follows you both to the couch. He plops down, spreading his knees wide, in the middle of the couch with his snack resting on his thigh.

“So what did I actually agree to do?” He asks while you and Liana each take a seat on the floor in front of the couch. You prop your phone up against a pair of coffee table books and the plastic case for NHL 24.

Liana starts to explain, “basically, we’re giving you questions and you have to pick which of us it applies to. Like, you know stuff out of a high school yearbook or whatever.”

“It’ll make sense when we start,” you pipe up, opening Tik Tok. You make Mat shift a few inches to the right so all three of you are in the frame and ask, “ready?”

The siblings nod and Mat digs into the chip bag, just as you’re starting to speak. Liana rolls her eyes at him.

“Hey guys,” you lean in towards the camera, “we’ve got a house guest for a long weekend, I think you’re familiar with her?”

Liana waves at the camera, smiling. “Hey! We figured since this is the first time I’ve been in the same country as big bro since the summer, we should mark the occasion with a Tik Tok.”

“I’m here under duress,” Mat snarks, giving the camera a big, cheesy grin. “And the snacks,” he lifts the bowl of guac. “A Squeaks specialty.”

“Perfect segue to the game,” Liana chirps, pulling out her phone and tapping open the Notes app. “We’re going to ask Mat questions and he has to pick which one of us it applies to. So, first we’ll go with who’s the better cook?”

Mat scrunches his face up in thought for a few seconds before wiggling his hand back and forth in the air. “Toss up,” he says. “Depending on what food it is.”

“Nope, not a valid answer,” Liana shakes her head. “Remember who cooks for you all the time at home.”

“I mean, I cook for him all the time down here,” you pipe up, feigning nonchalance.

Mat jabs his index finger at you, “exactly. Plus, no offense, Li, but your recipes are pretty basic. Squeaks likes to experiment.” He waggles his eyebrows and you reach back to pinch his ankle. He yelps and kicks lightly at your thigh with his socked foot. “Rude.”

“Cooperate, Mat!” You sigh.

“Next question,” Liana taps again at her phone, “who’s funnier?”

Mat hovers his hand over your head and you smile. “Squeaks, for sure,” he nods decisively.

Liana rolls her eyes. “Sarcasm isn’t actually being funny, just so you know,” she comments idly.

“If it makes me laugh, then yeah it is,” Mat retorts, crunching into a chip to punctuate his sentence. He pokes at your thigh with his foot again, affectionate this time, and you wrap a hand around his ankle.

You reach out and, out of Mat’s view, tap on Liana’s thigh, subtly widening your eyes at her. She grins back and tips her chin in a slight nod.

“How about, who’s the better dancer?” You ask, leaning over to read off of Liana’s phone.

Mat shifts his hand to hold it over Liana’s head with a laugh. “I love you, baby, but you’ve got all the rhythm of a middle aged dad,” he teases. “Li clears this one.”

You wrinkle your nose and cut your eyes to Liana, murmuring, “I don’t know. Shaking your ass isn’t really dancing, is it?”

“At least I can shake my ass on beat,” Liana shoots back quickly.

On the screen, you can see Mat frown before sticking a guac covered chip into his mouth. His eyes flicker between you and Liana and you can see him thinking before deciding not to say anything. You roll your lips together to avoid laughing. You and Liana are definitely going to have to take it up a notch.

“Best style?” Liana asks and continues before Mat can answer, “oh, obviously me. No question.”

Mat looks down at her, eyebrows drawing together over his nose. “Since when? You’re always in comfy clothes, sweats, that shit.” He gestures down at Liana who’s wearing a cream lounge pants and sweater set that more or less matches your own.

“Maybe when I’m hanging out with you in the house,” Liana hits his other leg. “But my street style is way better, she dresses so Long Island.”

“Long Island fashion is so much better than anything to come out of Canada,” you retort with an eye roll. “Mat clearly made the right choice.”

“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that he like when you dress all skimpy and slutty,” she shoots you an insincere smile and the couch shifts when Mat sits up straight.

“Hey, whoa, Liana that’s not cool,” Mat snaps, shaking his head. “What’s going on with you?”

You turn your head away from Mat to hide the smile that threatens at your lips. Liana waves a hand at her brother, “oh my god, nothing. It’s true though, you like the way she dresses.”

“Yeah, but she’s not a slut,” Mat’s getting annoyed and it’s sweet, how quick he is to defend you.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you draw attention back to you. “Let’s do another. Who’s smarter?”

Mat squints at you and leans back into the couch, crunching the bag of chips behind his back. “Oh shit,” he mutters, yanking it out and getting crumbs everywhere. You exhale a laugh through your nose - vacuuming before going out for dinner isn’t entirely unusual with Mat’s eating on the couch habits.

“Um, both of you?” He replies to the question. “Like Li is street smart, but you’re book smart. Y’know?”

“Oh my god,” Liana shakes her head. “Are you calling me stupid? You think she’s smarter than me?” She jabs her thumb at you and you frown at Mat.

“Seriously? Like you think I’m not street smart? You could drop me anywhere and I’d find my way home,” you protest, pretending to get heated.

“Please, she’s not even book smart either,” Liana says. “You know she thinks blood is just floating around in the body!”

You burst out a little laugh. That one is actually true, you’d had a “blonde moment” and said something to Liana to the effect of it being weird that blood and organs are just floating around inside your body. She’d stared at you for a solid five minutes with her mouth open at your stupidity, while you immediately realized your mistake and tried to backtrack that you knew veins and arteries exist.

Mat raises his eyebrows at you and his mouth drops a little. “Wait, seriously?” He asks. “You really think that?”

“No!” You yelp, waving your hands in the air. “Like for a second, but I’m not that dumb.”

Liana scoffs under her breath and you cut your gaze at her to see her hand come up and cover her mouth, hiding a wide smile.

“Maybe I should take it back,” Mat laughs, poking at your side with his foot. “Yeah, I’m changing my answer, Liana’s smarter.”

“Rude,” you laugh, unable to actually be offended by Mat’s switch-up. If he had said something as stupid, you would’ve made fun of him until the end of time.

Liana asks the next question - “Who’s more popular on Tik Tok?” - and Mat waffles until he eventually decides that the answer is “whoever features me the most.”

“Well, there’s a reason you’re never on mine,” Liana comments idly. “I don’t need the exposure.”

Mat squints at her, leaning forward so he’s almost bent in half. “Literally what is going on with you?” He flicks the back of her head and she swats at him. “You’re being so weird.”

“I’m not being weird, you’re being weird,” Liana shoots back.

“I never heard you talk to her like that,” Mat grumbles, jerking his thumb in your direction. “What bug crawled up your ass?”

“No bug,” Liana shrugs. “Just calling them like I see them.”

You lean against the couch and watch Mat’s face twist into a skeptical frown. He kicks the side of Liana’s thigh and says firmly, “be nicer. Whatever’s happening here needs to cool off.”

He’s being fairly calm, so maybe the trick won’t actually work. You tap on Mat’s calf, momentarily distracted by the thick cords of muscle, and say, “one more, and then I think we need to start getting ready.”

Mat reaches down and scratches the tips of his fingers against your scalp, making you lean into his touch like a cat, a slow smile taking over your face. With your cheek pressed against his knee, you look over at Liana, who’s rolling her eyes even as she has a faint smile on her face at your antics.

“Okay,” she grins, “if we were all in a sinking ship and you could only save yourself and one of us, who would it be?”

Without hesitating, Mat immediately says, “Squeaks.” There’s a healthy amount of “duh” in his tone and you can’t help but smile, warmed down to your core at Mat’s quick response.

Until Liana does her job and riles him up.

“Seriously?” She scoffs a laugh. “No hesitation, you’d pick some girl you haven’t even known a year over your own sister? Wow.”

You bite at your lower lip to hide a smile and Mat shoots forward again, jostling you.

“Liana, jesus fuck. What is wrong with you?” He snaps. “You’re being a fucking bitch. You know she’s not ‘some girl’ and you need to apologize. Now.”

He’s scowling at her, legs tensed. You don’t usually see Mat angry off the ice, but now he’s angry on your behalf and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t hot. Absolutely worth the prank to get him worked up like this.

Liana giggles and shakes her head. “Oooh, you should see your face,” she giggles again.

“I’m dead serious, Liana,” Mat shakes his head. “You’re not fucking funny and I’m not going to sit her and let you be rude.”

You start giggling now and reach out for Mat’s hand. “Hey, babe, Mat. Seriously, it’s okay,” you say and Mat squints at you, frowning.

“No, it’s not fucking okay. I thought you two got along. I thought you were friends and now Liana’s over here being rude as hell,” he shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you stay here and be nasty, Li.”

Liana catches your eye and the laughter is contagious. Soon enough, the two of you are cracking up, gasping for air. Mat’s confused, you can tell, because he’s spluttering and shaking both of your shoulders with his hands.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” He mutters, reaching down and dragging you up onto his lap. You laugh and protest, wiggling to sit on the couch with your legs draped over his thighs.

“It’s a Tik Tok trend,” you explain, waving at your phone with one hand and wrapping the other around the back of Mat’s neck. Liana leans forward and stops the video on your phone. It was getting too long anyway and no one needs to see you explain the whole thing to Mat.

Liana pipes up, “I can’t believe you’d really think I hate her. I like her more than I like you.”

Mat’s eyebrows scrunch together and you can see the wheels turning in his brain. It clicks all of a sudden and Mat’s mouth falls open, outraged shock written all over his features. “I knew it!” He yelps, grabbing a throw pillow and whacking Liana on the shoulder. She falls over, laughter gasping out of her. Mat smacks her with the pillow again and Liana kicks out at him, glancing the coffee table and yelping in pain.

“I knew you two were plotting!” He laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you pinned to his side. Your stomach hurts from laughing and trying to wriggle away. “Fucking menaces, I’m not saving either one of you. You can both drown.”

“No!” Your laugh mixes with Liana’s and Mat’s, the three of you landing in a pile on the floor as Mat continues to whack at both of you with the pillow. Liana kicks at Mat’s shin, fighting him when he rubs his knuckles on the top of her head in a noogie.

“Stop, stop, mercy!” Liana gasps, wheezing. Mat rolls his eyes, but stops, breathing hard when he sits up, keeping you locked securely on his lap. You press your forehead against his shoulder, panting. Mat’s hands are warm on your back and then they slide down, his palm smacking against your ass in a spank.

You yelp and jump in his arms, nearly cracking the side of his jaw with your head. “What was that for?” You grumble, reaching back to rub at the sore spot.

Mat grins wickedly at you. “For being a brat,” he replies simply. He points at Liana, sprawled like a starfish on the floor, and says, “you’re on coffee duty for the rest of your time here. And I want the fancy shit from For Five, not the homemade stuff.”

Liana whines. “No way, this was a clean prank,” she counters, kicking at Mat’s side and missing. “You agreed to be in the video.”

“Last time I do that,” Mat mutters, but he’s laughing under his breath and he presses a kiss to your forehead, so you know he doesn’t mean it. “You two are so fucking annoying.”

“But who would you say is more annoying?” You can’t help but ask, a cheeky smile on your face.

Mat groans and Liana lifts her hand for you to slap. You lean over in Mat’s lap to smack her hand and nearly fall over in the process. Mat’s fingers wrap around your thigh and keep you in place.

“No more Tik Tok,” he vows when you’re settled again, perched happily on his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips.

Liana pipes up from the floor before you have a chance, “okay, and not that i’m supporting you two being disgusting, so please wait until I go home, but what about that trend where the wife’s cooking naked when her husband gets home?”

You bite your tongue to hide a giggle and Mat’s head cocks, thinking. His fingers flex against your thighs. You loop your arms around his neck and trace your fingertips over the back of his neck. His forehead relaxes and you can feel his cock twitch with interest under your ass.

Eventually, he says, “okay, I’ll allow my participation in one more video.”

“That’s what I thought,” Liana mumbles. “Freaks.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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endearng · 1 day ago

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Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x singlemom!reader #spencer reid neighbors au

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starspunt · 2 days ago

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. . . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

── KINICH + gn!reader

synopsis: kinich liked to get away from the busy city, and sit in the saccharine embrace of your company.

warnings: fluff, pining!childhood friends, mentions food/beverages, modern!au, city/park setting, college!au, mentions exams/studying, kinich playing romance sims is canon to me btw (wc. 705)

note: this is a repost from my old blog.

kinich was a man of few words, able to get his point across without opening his mouth for long. he said things with such confidence, without room for negotiation. you supposed that’s how you found yourself sharing a picnic blanket just off the bank of a stream with him. you’re not entirely sure how he convinced you to come out, but chalked it up to the mushy soft spot you had for him.

you should’ve been at home in your dorm, studying for your exams in your cozy pajamas, with your favorite candle burning and a mug of tea in your hands. maybe you’d even read more of the book series you’d recently gotten into. yes, you easily could’ve pictured it, as you’ve done it more times than you could count.

what you could not have pictured, however, was this scenario. it felt like a scene out of the romance sims you knew mualani would make fun of if she found out kinich secretly played them. flowers bloomed and blossomed all around you, bright bursts of color dotting a lush carpet of vibrant green.

the two of you were thigh to thigh on the short blanket, and a cliche picnic basket sat innocently off to the other side of kinich, and you prayed he couldn’t hear the thundering of your heartbeat. he sat next to you stiffly, pointedly trying not show how much your close proximity and cloyingly sweet scent made him dizzy. he didn’t know whether to praise or berate his past self for not grabbing a larger blanket.

he could feel the comforting warmth of your skin through your clothes from where you pressed against him, and he felt his breath stutter in his throat. he was glad you were so used to his silence and easily filled the gaps in the conversation with casual chatter. you told him about your studies, the new stationary you just got, and even the campus cat you tend to feed.

while you were stuck in your own world, raving about the convenience store dinner you had last night, your words went in through one ear and out the other. kinich couldn’t help but admire you as you talked so animatedly. the way your eyes widened when you got expressive, the creases around your mouth when you frowned or smiled, or the quick flash of your tongue from behind your teeth.

he admired the depth of your voice, and how you were able to shift it through five different emotions in a few sentences. he admired how you were able to brighten the very air around you, making it feel lighter and more fulfilling as it filled his lungs. it was like you were very thing that let him breathe easy.

he didn’t know how he managed to have you in his life, let alone what he did to make you stay. he used to thank his lucky stars that you stayed, silently thanking you for loving him. silently thanking you for choosing to love him, when you could’ve had anyone else. when you could’ve had someone better.

“kinich?” your honeyed voice pulled him from his thoughts gently, like a soothing serenade composed just for him. his stunning eyes blinked at you, regaining himself as he peered into yours. “thought i lost you for a second. are you alright? you were staring at me.” you gave him that crooked, half smile you gave him whenever he got too quiet.

nodding in confirmation, he turned to pull out your favorite sweets. the fondness he held for you returned in his eyes as he watched you sparkle. when you launched into a full explanation on how to make the said sweets, this time he listened intensely, committing your words to memory and into the you-shaped spot in his heart.

when you broke off part of your pastry and offered it to him, he thought he might just implode. even more so when you fed the bite to him, the tip of your finger grazing his bottom lip. and when you looked at him with that adoring gaze and tender smile, saying his name in that dulcet tone, he thought that you must feel the same way that he did.

starspunt 2024. do not rewrite, repost, modify, or translate.

#kinich #kinich x reader #kinich x y/n #kinich x you #kinich fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n

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hvnyrt · 21 hours ago

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Voice in the Wind - ALTERNATE ENDING

JASON TODD X READER

I have never really written angst before, and I was really happy with the way my last work came out, but I couldn't help but want the reader and Jason to end up together in the end ;’) So I wrote a quick alternate ending to the same work, a happy ending this time, enjoy!

SUMMARY: Jason has been struggling with the idea of a relationship, fighting inner battles with himself constantly, you convince him to open up.

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You.

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction."

Except you werent. He knew it.

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating.

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?"

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost.

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively.

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel.

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending.

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness.

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead.

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended.

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything.

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear.

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Jason's gaze lingered on the skyline, the weight of the city pressing down on him. His fists were still clenched, his jaw set tight, but inside, a storm was brewing, one that was just as chaotic as the one in the streets below. His heart was a mess of confusion and fear, and even though he wanted to push you away — needed to push you away — something about your quiet presence beside him made it feel impossible.

When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, almost like a whisper, yet it cut through the thick air between you with the clarity of truth. "You don't have to do this alone, Jason."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. He’d heard those words before, but never with the kind of sincerity that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the universe. That maybe, just maybe, there was someone who saw through his walls, someone who wasn’t afraid of the darkness he carried.

He shook his head, his voice rough, trying to hold onto the hardness that kept him safe. "I told you, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like."

"I don’t need to," you replied softly. "I just need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Not if you let me stay."

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest, the words stirring something deep inside of him, something that scared him more than anything. He wanted to say something — push you away, explain why this couldn’t happen, why he couldn’t let you in.

But the words stuck in his throat.

You took a step closer, not backing down, but not rushing him either. And for the first time, in the midst of all the noise inside his head, he realized that you weren’t asking him to fix himself. You were just asking him to be real. To stop pretending. To let you in.

Without thinking, without even fully knowing what he was doing, Jason reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. The proximity felt like a tug, a pull he couldn’t ignore. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you stood there, looking at him with those eyes that had always been so damn patient, so damn sure.

And in that moment, something inside Jason broke open — a crack in the walls that had kept him safe for so long. He didn’t need to pretend anymore.

He moved before he could stop himself.

One step, then two, and suddenly, he was close enough to feel your breath against his skin, close enough that he could see the way your lips parted slightly, as though you were holding your own breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

And then, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you, Jason closed the gap.

His lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed any harder. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand reached up, cupping the side of his face, and you kissed him back, steady and sure.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The tension that had held him captive for so long unraveled, piece by piece, until all that was left was this — you, here with him, unafraid.

He kissed you deeper this time, a soft but desperate need in the way his mouth met yours. The world felt a little less heavy, like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on his own anymore.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing in the same air, your hearts syncing in a way that made everything else fade into the background. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. But the words he didn’t have to speak were already there — in the way his hands found your waist, in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice rough with the admission. "Scared I’m not… enough. That I’m too broken for anyone to be here. To be what you need."

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around him, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me, Jason. That’s more than enough.”

His chest tightened at your words, the sincerity of them striking deep. He wasn’t used to hearing that — wasn’t used to anyone seeing him for who he really was, not the mask he wore to survive, not the monster he sometimes thought he was.

But you did.

He let out a breath, the weight of everything in him finally beginning to lift. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jason closed his eyes, his heart a little lighter than before. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe he didn’t have to be the hero, or the villain, or the broken man he always saw in the mirror.

Maybe he just needed to be someone who didn’t have to face the world alone.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason realized that he wasn’t as lost as he thought. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he was ready to face whatever came next.

And he was ready to face it with you.

#jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fluff #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #batfamily #batboys #jasontodd #jason todd angst #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfic

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multifandomslxt · 2 days ago

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Tramp - Stamp

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yuta x chubby!reader

Synopsis: After years of silently admiring him from afar, your friends have finally convinced you to break the ice with the guy who's been the subject of your secret crush: Yuta Nakamoto, the renowned tattoo artist. His mere presence sends a wave of excitement through you...all of you. luckily you happen to have a particular design in mind—a tramp stamp—that you've been itching to get inked onto your skin.

WARNING: Smut, unprotected p in v ( use protection kids), choking, spitting, hair pulling, mirrors (hehe), crying, begging, needles, smoking, Yuta is mean but sweet (lol), READER IS CHUBBY!! stretch marks, love handles, back rolls, stomach rolls etc. (if you don't like it, don't read it), Reader calls Yuta "Daddy", Yuta calls reader "bunny".

A/N: I have nothing against lower back tattoos or tramp stamps. I plan to get one myself actually. however, the term tramp stamp will have a different meaning in this fic.

I apologize in advance for any typos. Enjoy!

"Finally!" Minhee, your best friend of five years mutters, exasperation dripping from her voice.

Your bottom lip juts out in distaste. "What do you mean finally? I mentioned this to you just a couple months ago."

"Yeah, Y/N, but come on, you usually back out of these things, y'know?" Minhee explains, a playful smirk on her lips.

You sigh, not bothering to argue because you know she's right. There was a good reason, though. You grew up sheltered, and because of that, you just shied away from things that would draw attention to you.

For example, a tramp stamp.

Minhee squeals and shimmies her shoulders in excitement. "So… who's gonna do it?"

Huh… You hadn’t really gotten that far in your thoughts. You just figured you would go to a random tattoo parlor with good enough reviews.

You shrug. "I'll just choose somewhere with great reviews."

Minhee looks at you quizzically, tilting her head. "Good reviews? Why? Yuta's sho—"

You hold your hand up, stopping her mid-sentence. You roll your eyes. "Don't even think about it."

Minhee mimics you, rolling her eyes as well. "Y/N, you've wanted to fuck the guy since high school."

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassing memories resurfacing. "Minhee, please," you beg.

Besides, even if you did allow Yuta to tattoo you, there was no way in hell he would do anything more. You weren’t his type. He didn’t say that to you, but after years of stalking his social media pages like a creep, it was obvious you were definitely not his cup of tea. And it bothered you more than it should have.

"But Y/N, how will you get out of your shell without trying something new?" Minhee pleads. "Just trust me, the worst thing he can do is just give you the tattoo and never talk to you again." She shrugs.

You bite your lip in contemplation. That is true.

Fuck it.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Another squeal. "Yes! I'll book your appointment."

After some taps on her phone, she says, "Friday, 12:30."

You exhale, already hearing your heart pounding in your ears.

~~~~~

It was Friday, 12:15 PM.

You stood outside Yuta's tattoo parlor, teetering on the edge of decision. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the cloudy sky reflected your inner turmoil.

Minhee had called you earlier, her voice a mix of encouragement and threat. "Just spread your wings a little. See where it takes you," she had urged over the phone. "If you back out, I'll never talk to you again."

Hopefully not an embarrassing fall from grace, you thought.

Sighing, you wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and pushed the door open. The chime above the door announced your arrival with a soft tinkle, and you stepped inside, your heart pounding in your ears.

Your eyes darted to every corner of the shop within your sight. Holy shit.

It was dark. So fucking dark.

The parlor was an extension of Yuta himself. Black leather furniture, dark wood shelves, and posters of intricate, shadowy designs adorned the walls. Even the decorative plants were a deep, almost black, green. The only color contrasts were the neon signs casting an eerie glow and the cherry red telephone on the receptionist's desk.

And, of course, you.

A horrible choice to wear a baby pink crop top. You had hoped not to stand out, for crying out loud.

"Spread your wings," you muttered to yourself, taking another deep breath.

You made your way to the receptionist, pretending not to notice her staring at you since you stood outside. Her gaze was intense, but her smile was warm and welcoming.

"Hello, how may I help you today, sweetheart?" the receptionist asked.

"Hi, umm, I have an appointment? I'm Y/N for 12:30."

The receptionist nodded immediately, typing away and glancing at her computer screen. "Ah… 12:30 with Yuta." She looked up, waiting for your confirmation.

You nodded.

She smiled again. "Go through that door and wait; he'll be right with you."

The door she pointed to was, of course, dark wood, almost black, adorned with posters of various butterfly tattoos. A gold name plate read, "N. YUTA."

You exhaled once more, your heart hammering in your chest, and made your way toward the door, each step echoing in the dimly lit room.

The door opened with a soft creak, and my gosh, the light almost blinded you. Such a contrast from the waiting area.

The walls were a dark red with random splashes of black paint, all four sides adorned with even more sketches. Butterflies, swords, cartoons, and so much more.

a stool, and a bed -where you assumed customers lay down or sat on when getting tattooed- stood in the middle of the room. A table right beside the stool stood with different inks and the tools Yuta would need to tattoo someone. And, of course, there was a huge light standing over the bench and stool.

You awkwardly took a seat at the edge of the bed. The second you sat down, the door opened again, revealing Yuta.

His head was down, focused on his phone screen. You took this opportunity to look at him. Like, really look at him.

His black hair was grown out just above his shoulders, framing his face with an almost rough ethereal beauty. He was clad in all black—black pants and a black crop top that revealed just the tiniest bit of his butterfly tattoo and a fucking belly button piercing.

fuck me.

Finally, he looked up, and you quickly looked away.

his eyes were darker than you remembered.

"Y/N, right?" His voice was smooth and rich, with a hint of amusement.

You turned your attention back to him and nodded. "Y-yeah, I'm Y/N."

He nodded, a confident smile playing on his lips. "I'm Yuta. I'll be tattooing you today," he said, taking a seat on the stool in front of you. he smelled like cigarettes and faintlu of cologne.

it made you dizzy.

"Yeah, I know that. So, umm, I have my design—if that's okay?" you stumbled, trying to keep your composure.

The way he was staring so deeply at you like he could see through you.

It almost made you want to hide.

like a predator stalking its prey.

He stared at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before saying something that made your heart nearly stop. "You're still so shy after all these years, bunny?"

Bunny?

Did he just call you... No.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. Had he recognized you? Your cheeks flushed as old, buried memories began to resurface. You had known Yuta back in high school, but you never thought he’d remember you. Let alone a nickname you thought he had long forgotten.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. "Y-you remember me?"

Yuta chuckled softly, a dark, almost predatory look in his eyes. "Of course I do. Some things you just don't forget."

butterflies erupted in your belly as you felt your finger tips tingle

You wanted to be under him so badly that your body ached.

The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pulsing with your heartbeat. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, peeling away the layers you had built around yourself over the years.

"Well then," he said, leaning forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's see that design."

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the paper with your design on it. You handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his. His touch was warm, sending a jolt of electricity through you. For a brief moment Yuta's body stiffened.

Holy fuck.

Did he want you too?

He examined the design, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. " You drew this?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

he looks up at you quizzically causing your breathing to hasten

"do i still have to remind you to use your words bunny?" he asks his tone joking but his posture changed. from slouching to upright and his jaw was clenched. his eyes were a little darker and a little more demanding.

You realized that he wanted to hear you and he wanted it now.

your breath hitches before squeaking out a quiet "no"

he smiles, relaxes his posture and nods approvingly "Good girl"

This was unfair.

you wanted to affect him as much as he affected you.

Yuta looked up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. "it's nice. it suits you. where do you want it?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "on my back please" you whispered.

Yuta raises a dark eyebrow in question "This seems a little small for the middle of your back bunny."

"no no, you don't understand" you you chuckle nervously

he looks at you expectantly, crossing his arms at his chest and tilting his head "Well make me understand sweetheart"

"I'll just show you" You get up from the bed and turn around

lifting our shirt revealing your lower back just above your ass.

you reach behind you and attempt to point to that spot "right here. I want it right here please."

A beat of silence passes, and another and another before you decide to turn around slightly.

his eyes lazily looked at you from head to toe.

He swallowed thickly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and curiosity before he replied in a strained voice,

"A tramp stamp?"

You smiled, feeling a rush of boldness, and with a flicker of hesitation, dropped your shirt, fully facing him now.

"Yes," you confirmed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves within you. God, he made you so jittery.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, his eyes still fixed on you, observing every move as if he were deciphering a complex puzzle.

"Who's it for?" he questioned, his tone tinged with the same strain as before.

Confusion flickered across your features as you met his gaze. "Me?" you responded, the uncertainty evident in your voice.

He chuckled, though the humor didn't reach his eyes. "Fucking hell, you're trying to kill me."

" A tramp stamp just for your own amusement, bunny? And you want me to do it?" His words carried a mix of disbelief and a hint of something deeper, perhaps longing.

With a resigned sigh, he walked over to his stool and took a seat, motioning for you to shut the door.

It was common knowledge that when Yuta worked, he kept the door cracked, but shutting it completely? That was unheard of.

You decided to comply, despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. Closing the door softly behind you, you approached him with slow, steady steps, stopping in between his parted legs.

"A tattoo on your lower back," he mused carefully, his hands moving to grasp your love handles possessively leading you to the bed.

"You're putting ideas in my head." he whispers still staring at you hips.

His words were laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes bore into yours so intently it made you heart race and your heart clench.

Did he want you to beg for it?

fine, you came prepared for that anyway.

'Please...ruin me. Fucking ruin me.'

is what you would have said if you were brave enough, instead all you could get out was

"oh..i-"

Yuta chuckles "flustered?"

you clear your throat and look away

a finger lifts your chin causing you to meet his predatory gaze again

"I'm gonna be real with you here bunny, I want to fuck your brains out. not professional of me I know but I wouldn't be saying it if I didn't know you wanted it too"

~~~~~

your fingers clawed at his back as he fucked you against the wall

his balls rhythmically slapping against you

you looked down enjoying the sight of him fucking into you , his cock branded with a white ring of your cum.

"Yuta," you gasp, breath hitching, "I want more."

“Oh, you want more?” he responds with a smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I can definitely give you more."

The motion of his thrusts causes your stomach to quiver, muscles trembling in response as your body matches his rhythm. Each movement is intense, sending waves of sensation through you.

Your throat feels raw from all the shouting and moaning—so much so that you can barely voice how close you are. Instead, your grip tightens around his arm, fingers digging into his skin in a desperate, wordless plea, silently telling him that you’re right on the edge.

"Already, Y/N?" he taunts, not even slowing his relentless pace. His voice is a mix of amusement and intensity, each word vibrating through you.

Before you can process his words, the sensation crashes over you, making your toes curl, your back arching away from the wall. Your mouth falls open, releasing a silent scream as the overwhelming pleasure grips you.

The release is so intense that tears spill down your cheeks, your body trembling under the weight of it all. But he doesn't stop—his rhythm remains the same, drawing out every ounce of sensation, leaving you breathless and barely able to think.

have you ever been fucked so hard you stomach started to hurt?

but fuck, you didn't want him to stop

soon you started to feel the burn of it all, our body twitched and trembled.

you fought so hard to speak but you couldn't even form a thought

suddenly it was all too much.

your head spun , your eyes rolled back and your body shook with one more orgasm

"Yuta please!" you screamed your hand instinctually trying to push him away from you and he only responded by gripping both your wrist in one hand.

"behave!" he growled out biting your nipple as a form of punishment but all that did was give you another orgasm.

"Ah! I'm-oh...please...fuck me daddy....please" you cried hysterically.

It's embarrassing what a good fuck can do to the mind

"Fuck bunny, such a dirty fucking mouth" he whispers as he bring his hand to your face gripping your jaw.

"open for me baby" he coos

you mouth is wide open not even a millisecond later and oh my hell

you died and came back when he spat in your mouth.

"swallow that shit" he thrusts deeper and harder.

"SHIT!" You scream out as he reaches a spot that you never had touched

he smiles at you mischievously "found it"

and just like that you had two more orgasms before you realized,

Yuta didn't cum yet

which could only mean one thing

"I'm not done with you bunny. I want you from the back"

You shook your head, still in a daze. " T-tired....t'much...mmm"

he kisses your temple oh so sweetly as anything but sweet words fall from his lips "i know baby but I want to see you cry some more when i fuck you harder. besides, don't you want daddy to cum all over you baby?

you look up at him with tear filled eyes "yes daddy"

he smiles showing his teeth "then be a good bunny and get on all fours for me"

"ah fuck" was what he said when he finally sank into you again.

his hands roamed your back squeezing and giving attention to your rolls

"You were fucking made for me" he moaned out in utter bliss.

looks like you did affect him like he affected you.

he was relentless with his thrust.

so fucking eager.

the room was just filled with the sound of your ass meeting his cock and oh was it music to your ears

"the view from here is fucking amazing baby"

he slaps your ass cheek repeatedly and you already know its bruised red.

from the mirror on the wall you could see him rubbing his hands all over your stretch marks as he mouths an inaudible "fuck"

You also see that he's going to take it up a notch when he lifts one of his legs up on to the stool. giving him a deeper angle as he pummels into you

"you grip on the white sheet on the tattoo bed as you scream

"I'M GONNA CUM!"

you fall on your chest as the strength leaves your arms. your eyes blur with tears for the the umpteenth time and you bite your lip so hard you taste blood

"I know baby me too" he pants out chest heaving as he tries to maintain his pace

"mmm-I'm cumming...i'm cumming- ah shit!" you manage to get out as your stomach tightens.

you feel Yuta swelling inside you but he pulls out just intime as white ropes of cum are painted over your back.

you barley can keep your eyes open as you see Yuta use his hands to spread his cum all over your stretchmark- filled ass cheeks

"holy shit: he says collapsing on top of you.

you're quiet for a moment not finding the strength to speak as yet

"i should've taken you on a date first bunny" Yuta says filling the silence

you sigh contently "you still can."

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mayrose713 · 20 hours ago

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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 9

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Just so everyone knows, I have an end goal in mind but I honestly don't know how I'm fully getting there right now. So I hope everyone enjoys my scatter brained chapters

Chapter 9

“Hey Binnie?” Y/n had woken up early knowing that Changbin does as well to either head to the gym in town or workout in the home gym.

“Morning pretty girl, you’re up really early.” He looks at the clock before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge having just come in from the home gym. “What’s up?”

“Could I use your phone while you finish working out?” She asks shyly. “To call my brother?”

“Of course baby.” He smiles, fishing his phone out of his packet before giving it to her. “I use the tablet and stereo in the gym anyways for music so you’re good to use it however long you need.

“Thanks.” She smiles and waits for him to go back into the gym before she decides to walk into the den, closing the door most of the way as she types in her brother's number and hits call.

“Hello?” A groggy voice that sounds like was just woken up answers fairly quickly.

“Hyuk? It’s Y/n.”

“Holy shit, Y/n?” The voice perks up. “God you’ve had me so worried about you. I hadn’t heard from you in a bit and dad called saying he got a message from grandma and grandpa that you ran away for no reason. Where the fuck are you? Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“One of my fated alpha’s phone.” She tries to keep her voice light but in reality she’s about to break down.

“Your fated alphas?” He sounds wary.

Y/n sighs and starts explaining everything that had happened, including letting the injection wear off.

“God I’m so sorry sis.” His heart breaks hearing everything she was put through. “I’m just glad you’re away from them and somewhere safe now.”

“Yeah.” She smiles through her tears. “This is the safest I’ve ever felt, really.”

“That’s good.” He sighs. “I want to meet your mates though.”

“Hyuk.” She whines at his overprotectiveness.

“Don’t give me that pup.” He scolds her. “Have they marked you yet?”

She hesitates. “...No.”

“Are they planning to?”

“Well I believe so. A few of them said soon, so I’m sure they will.” She rambles.

“I’m just wanting to make sure Y/nn.” He tries to calm her down. “Don’t want them to take advantage of you, promising to mark you but never actually do just to get things from you and later sell you to the highest paying pack.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” She defends her mates but she isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself as she now starts to overthink everything.

“I’m just making sure.” Hyuk then sighs. “Listen, I’ve gotta go get ready for work. Text me when they get you your new phone and we’ll discuss meeting up soon.”

“Okay.” She nods even though he can’t see it. “Bye bro, love you.”

“Love you too sis, talk later.”

After she hangs up she takes in a shaky deep breath before letting the dam break and start sobbing in the nest. Little did she know that Changbin had finished his workout already and had heard her crying while talking on the phone. He didn’t eavesdrop or anything but stayed nearby until he heard her muffled talking stop and just her sobs come through the crack in the door.

The alpha quickly walks in and when she sees him she lifts her arms up and he wraps himself around her, bringing her into his lap in the nest and gently rocks her as she cries into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He whispers and coos at her. “You’re okay, just let it out.”

Chan opens the door having smelled her upset when he woke up and quickly came to find her. He gives Changbin a questioning look as he watches him soothe their omega.

“She called her brother.” Changbin mouths to him, slightly pointing to his discarded phone while trying not to disturb the girl in his arms.

The pack alpha nods and watches for a moment before leaving the two alone.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“We’re taking you shopping at the mall in the next town over today.” Jeongin hugs Y/n from behind as she leans against the counter watching Minho cook.

“Everyone?” She leans back against him.

“No, just Hyunjin and I.” He places his chin on her shoulder. “Hyun still feels bad and said he wanted to be the one who takes you.”

“And you are gonna be under the same rules we have for Felix and Jisung.” Chan walks in. “Rule number one being, you don’t leave the property without an alpha or beta and you don’t leave the town without an alpha. You can be in town with just Hyunjin or Seungmin but leaving town you need one of the four of us alphas.” She nods in understanding. “Lix and Ji can’t drive so we don’t usually have to worry too much about it but we ask you to please follow this rule.”

Minho steps up to her with a spoon. “Try this.” She eats from the spoon and her eyes light up. “Good? Not too spicy?”

“I like it.”

Minho smiles, turning back to the stove. “Rule number two, if you’re leaving the house, even to walk around the grounds a bit, let one of us know.”

Changbin, who’s been making a protein shake, turns to the room “Rule number three, we don’t keep anything from each other. If somethings bothering you, talk to us, no matter what.”

“Rule number four.” Jeongin steps away from the omega to grab Chan’s wallet as Hyunjin walks into the room. “If you want to have someone visit, like your brother, let all of us know first to make sure it's good timing for all of us.”

“Got it.” She nods, taking mental note of everything.

“Ready princess?” Hyunjin grabs the car keys from the hook and Jeongin grabs her hand now having Chan’s credit card in his pocket.

“Yeah.” She nods letting the younger alpha lead her to the front door.

“Get whatever you want or need, baby girl.” Chan follows along to walk them out. “Get any clothes, makeup or skin care you want and need. If there’s anything you want to decorate your room with, then get it. Don’t worry about pricings or how much you’ve already gotten, okay?”

“Yes alpha.”

“Good girl.” He kisses her cheek and stands on the porch as he watches them get in the car and drive off.

The drive was quiet for the most part besides the music playing and the occasional questions. Y/n still felt a bit iffy around Hyunjin. He’s been better around her, but it’s awkward still.

She follows closely behind them walking through the mall as she looks around at the different stores they go by and Jeongin quickly grabs her hand when she starts to lag behind a bit.

“Where do you want to go first?”

“Any clothing store is fine.” She mumbles and Hyunjin grabs her other hand leading the two towards a shop and her eyes widen at the amount of clothes.

“Have at it princess, pick out anything you want.” Hyunjin smiles down at her.

“I don’t even know where to start?” She looks around at the different wracks of clothes.

“We’ll help you.” Jeongin squeezes her hand before taking her to the first rack.

They all pick out different clothes and she tries them on, some of which she was surprised how much she liked on her as she’s used to having just worn leggings and t-shirts for the last few years. But the sundresses, shorts, skirts, and blouses the boys picked out she loved. She almost felt more like herself for the first time in her life.

Several stores and trips back and forth from the car later they were almost done. They had even picked up her new phone Chan had called ahead to have ready for pick up.

“Channie hyung said the phone is already all set up for you.” Jeongin explains as he and Hyunjin are holding a few bags of skin care.”We’ll just have to charge it when we get home.”

“Any other stores?” Hyunjin asks, moving over to the mall's map directory. “Do you want to get some makeup?”

“No, I don’t like to wear makeup much.” She looks around. “Is there like a homegoods store or something so I can get stuff for my room?”

“Yeah, it’s on the other side of the mall.” Jeongin points on the map to show them. “How about you guys head over there and I’ll go take these bags to the car and bring it around in front of that store so it’d be easier to load it up.”

“Sounds good.” Hyunjin hands him the few bags he has before taking the omega’s hand leading her to the store. “What were you thinking for your room?”

“Just wanting to pick out some decor, and curtains, maybe a rug.” She starts to walk through the store. “Could you help me paint an accent wall?”

“Of course, we can stop by the hardware store in the town and grab paint.” He follows her to the curtains first. “What color were you thinking?”

“Purple…? Pink…? I’m not sure yet.” She looks through the curtains specifically stopping at the blackout curtains. “I wouldn’t mind having an artist's eye though on deciding what would go the best.”

“I can definitely help with that.” He starts to browse the curtains. “Is there a certain color of curtains and a rug you’re wanting?”

“I was thinking grey for the curtains.” She pulls a set of light grey curtains before handing them to him. “And I’m wanting a big fluffy white rug.”

“We’re gonna need a cart for that then. I’ll go get one and I’ll meet you at the rugs?”

“Yeah.” She nods and watches him walk away before heading towards the rugs and start browsing.

She finds a few fluffy rugs as she feels them to decide which one she wants as she waits for Hyunjin and Jeongin to come back.

“Hey there little omega.” A deep voice is heard as a tall alpha comes up behind her. “Where’s your alpha at little one?” He places a hand on her hip causing her to tense up.

“He-he’ll be back soon.” Y/n stutters unsure what’s about to happen.

He turns her around, still keeping her in place as he inspects her neck. “No bites? Meaning you’re unclaimed.”

“I-I don’t want any trouble.” She swallows hard, hoping for Jeongin or Hyunjin to be back soon, as she has flashbacks to how her grandfather blocked her path, not allowing her to leave. “P-please walk away.”

“Why would I do that?” He growls, grip tightening on her waist. “You don’t belong to anyone, yet. We can change that right here and now though.”

“I don’t think so.” Jeongin’s growl is heard before he punches the alpha in the jaw. “Stay away from my omega.”

“Your omega?” The man taunts with a chuckle clenching the side of his face. “If she’s yours then why is she unmarked?”

“Innie.” Y/n gasps, her alpha looks ready to kill but she doesn’t get to move as Hyunjin comes up wrapping his arms around her.

“Don’t intervene.” He whispers as he holds her closely to him. “You’ll only get hurt.”

“But…” He turns her away from the scene as security comes to break up the commotion.

Hyunjin continues to hold her as Jeongin gets questioned by security explaining how the strange alpha was threatening to claim his omega. Luckily with the security footage showing how uncomfortable Y/n is with the man,9 Jeongin is let go and asked not to come back to that mall again.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n softly cries into Hyunjins chest.

“No baby, I’m sorry.” The beta squeezes her. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I wasn’t thinking. Felix and Jisung, even though they act like it, aren’t actual omegas so it's okay for them to be left alone for a few minutes in a store when we go to grab something. I should have stayed or at least had brought you with me, especially since you’re still unmarked. I’m sorry.”

The omega whimpers into his chest as Jeongin joins them, still angry, saying they should head back home and leads them to the parked car. Hyunjin helps Y/n into the back before taking the keys from the young alpha to drive.

After a bit of no one talking Y/n looks up at them in the front seats and sighs. “When… when will you guys?”

“When will we, what?” Jeongin grunts, still a bit agitated from the situation and not happy with his beta for leaving her unattended.

She shrinks back in her seat. “Never mind.” She whimpers and looks out the window watching the terrain go by the closer they get home.

When they pull up, Chan, Minho and Changbin are waiting outside to help bring in all of the bags. When the three of them step out of the car though, the alphas smell the soured scents causing their brains to overthink.

“What happened?” Chan looks at all of them, Minho quickly goes to Y/n to check her over for injuries.

“Hyunjin left Y/n alone in a store.” Jeongin glares at the beta. “And an alpha threatened to take her, probably would have if I hadn’t come back when I did.”

“Is that true?” Chan looks at Hyunjin, getting angrier when he nods. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry.” The beta whines. “I wasn’t thinking okay, I forgot that she isn’t able to be left alone for a few minutes like Ji and Lix can.”

“Did you fight the alpha, Innie?” Changbin is looking at Jeongin’s face who nods and the omega now realizes that the stranger must have hit Jeongin back when Hyunjin turned her away.

“Are you okay kitten?” Minho moves her hair behind her ear and cups her cheek.

“Yeah?” She whispers not looking up at the alpha.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He forces her to look at him and now sees the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s nothing.” She brushes his hand away.

Minho sighs and looks at his pack alpha who notices as well before telling Changbin to deal with Hyunjin as he moves to Y/n.

“Baby girl.” He places his hands on both of her cheeks looking down at her. “What did Changbin say rule number three was?”

A tear falls down her cheek. “We don’t keep stuff from each other. If somethings bothering me, talk to you guys.”

“That’s right.” He wipes away her tears. “So please talk to me, what’s wrong? Is it what happened? Did it scare you?”

“It did. It reminded me of how my grandfather blocked my path.” She mumbles. “But it’s not entirely that.”

“What is it then?”

“The alpha said I was unmarked, that I don’t belong to anyone because of it and threatened to change that.” She mumbles which starts to make Jeongin mad again as Changbin soothes him. “And it makes me wonder when… when will you guys make me yours?”

“You’re already ours, pretty girl.” Changbin reassures her as he holds the youngest alpha.

“Others just think that omegas need to be marked like property or otherwise they're a free for all.” Minho had stayed close by still looking her over to make sure she’s okay.

“Baby, just because we haven’t bitten you yet doesn’t mean you’re not ours.” Chan coos.

Y/n bites her lip still holding back tears. “It just feels like I’m not being fully accepted.”

“Oh baby girl.” Chan pulls her into his chest and lets out soothing pheromones. “Please don’t feel that way. I promise we will soon, it’s just something that’s a bit more intimate than you might realize.”

“And you said I have to take you on a date first before I can do that.” Minho gives a cheeky smirk making her pout and playfully pushes him trying to hold back a smile.

Her smile doesn’t last long though as she’s reminded as to what Hyuk had told her on the phone this morning and starts to wonder if he is right.

Chan and Minho look at each other as their omega’s scent goes from sweetening to sour again during the whole interaction. They can see her brain working overtime and know that they’re gonna need to get to work on claiming her as it seems their words aren’t fully convincing her anymore.

______________________________________________________________

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thestrangeblob · 1 day ago

Text

a little list of canon evidence supporting most elriel theories <3

1. elain and the possibility of her training to be a spy

Elain pushed, “We keep it secret—we send the servants away. (...) No one will know.”

My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.

She (feyre) nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s (elain) got you beat for secret-keeping."

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood the gift he possessed.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.” She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

2. elain wearing azriel's color (cobalt blue)

Elain rasped, “Nice to meet you,” before hustling after her, the silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor. ... She’d (elain) covered her nightgown with a silk shawl of palest blue, her fingers grappling into the fabric as she held herself. ... Elain seemed to realize it, too. She peered down at herself, at the simple blue gown she wore. ... But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, ... “Is your father healing?” I added the cobalt of Azriel’s Siphons to the orange and mixed until a rich brown appeared. ... Azriel’s Siphons flashed, a sprawling shield of cobalt locking over Rhysand’s, his breathing just as heavy as my mate’s ... Az held Cassian’s stare for a moment, cobalt Siphons flickering, and then nodded.

3. elain's mating bond to lucien might be wrong

when elain was turned and mated:

Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel’s chest. The ash bolt was coated in bloodbane that the King of Hybern claimed flowed where he willed it. ... “Put the prettier one in first,” the king said, Mor already forgotten. I twisted—only to have the king’s guards grab me from behind. Rhys was instantly there, but Azriel shouted, back arching as the king’s poison worked its way in. (I didn't leave out any lines between these two paragraphs... so why did the poison sink deeper into az when the king says to put elain into the cauldron???)

azriel's mate behaviour to elain:

Azriel smiled faintly. ‘Would you like me to show you the garden?’ But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. ... Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports ... The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still.” ... ‘Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.’ ‘I can help her,’ said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.” ... The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate. The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.” She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.” (what we see azriel do time and again) “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need ...” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” ... “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

the description of feysand:

But the bond, the bridge between us... it was a howling void.

the description of elriel:

The only bridge of connection ... that knife.

the description of elucien:

“It felt ... strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

finally:

‘There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly sometimes the bond is nothing more than some…preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that.’”

4. azriel's shadows DO like elain:

In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More ... human than I had ever seen him. ... “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. ... Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. ... But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see…He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.

5. elriel's aesthetic as light and dark

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection ... that knife.

if y'all want any more cold hard canon to back up any other elriel theories/arguments/takes comment it on this post and I'll add it to the list LMAO

good day and good night y'all stay safe our there<33

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #azriel archeron #pro elain #pro azriel #pro elain archeron #pro elriel #acotar #i thought it was obvious

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ak319 · 2 days ago

Note

oof, i loved arthur’s reaction to her escape attempt! imagine if it’d been longer, like you said reader was around 15-19, if she were 15ish and he found her again when she was in her early 20s or something 👀 maybe even with a family of her own

(AN: Oh. My. GOD! *screams*, straight outta a soap opera but make it darker, lol. I had so much fun writing it!!!.) Alter version of this Warnings/MDNI: Not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, death// I don't condone such behaviour

You'd found a quiet, unassuming happiness on the ranch, a kind of peace you'd never known before. The people Annabelle left you with were very good at covering your tracks and gave you the best opportunity to start your new life. Sure, there was the occasional pang of guilt, a fleeting thought of your brother and how he might have worried after your sudden disappearance. For leaving without a word. But you consoled yourself, convinced it was for the best. He was your guardian, not your puppeteer. The dread of him coming and taking you back didn't fade though. Both of you had conflicting views, you needed freedom, and space to grow into yourself instead of witnessing the dangers and the crime they committed there and pretending it was fine, and the Alder ranch had given you exactly that.

The work was hard, but you loved it, and the Alders treated you like family. And then Farris arrived. When you were 18.

When he arrived, you were wary at first, assuming he’d be just another complication, perhaps a jerk. You already feared meeting new people but he quickly proved you wrong. Farris was thoughtful, with an understated kindness that made him easy to be around. His silence wasn't standoffish; it felt respectful like he knew you had your own reasons for being there, just as he did. He had a way of giving you space without making you feel lonely, and when he did speak, it was usually to ask questions that felt... refreshing. He genuinely wanted to learn from you, which was a new experience, and something that made you feel a bit prouder of the knowledge you'd gathered on the ranch.

And there was something undeniably magnetic about him. He was handsome in a way that didn’t demand attention, with an earthy charm that suited the simplicity of ranch life. You caught yourself smiling at his quiet humour, the way he’d sneak a comment here or there to lighten the load. Working alongside him, you felt more like an equal than you had in a long time, and that feeling, that respect, was something you hadn't realized you’d been missing all along.

When Farris confessed his feelings, it caught you so off guard that, for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Someone wanted to be with you? You, with your past and all the silent shadows that came with it? But Farris was gentle, giving you time to think, to consider your own heart without pressure. And you did think, a lot, trying to let this possibility unfold in your mind. Eventually, with a shy, tentative "yes," you opened up, your whole being feeling like a flower cautiously reaching toward sunlight, still uncertain yet irresistibly drawn.

The two of you became the talk of the ranch, your quiet glances and shy smiles making even the Alders chuckle with delight. It was sweet, people said, watching you both, a pair of lovestruck teens caught up in something innocent and tender.

Farris eventually opened up about his past, speaking softly, as if sharing a guarded wound. His parents had been trapped in a constant cycle of bitterness, each too absorbed in their own struggles to think about him. They didn’t care for each other, for the vows they’d made, or even for the boy caught in between. By the time they split, he’d been left to fend for himself, a ghost drifting between them, unwanted. Yet here he was, looking at you with such hope, with a gentleness that was born from hardship but longing for something better, beautiful and loving than what his parents had.

He wanted a love that was real, something far from the fractured, selfish version he’d grown up with. And he wanted it with you. That simple, earnest wish kindled something inside you, something bright and tender, something you hadn’t dared hope for until now.

Now, at twenty, you’re happily married. Farris has never once wavered from his vow, not for a single moment. He’s never let you feel the sting of loneliness or regret. He’s only ever been there, his love a steady presence, his every word and gesture a reminder that he’s here for you, that he will always be here.

He knows pieces of your past, the fragments you were willing to share. You chose to tell him only as much as felt necessary, as much as you felt safe giving away. He’s never pressed for more, never pried into the shadows you’ve tried so hard to leave behind. Instead, he accepted every part of you, the parts you showed him, and the parts you held back. And in his acceptance, you’ve found a peace you didn’t think possible, a quiet sense of safety that feels like home.

You both thrived together in the quarters on the ranch, living in a cozy one-bedroom home that felt like a world of your own. It was small, yet everything you needed was right there, wrapped in love and laughter. But Farris, with his dreams and ambitions, wanted something more, a life away from the ranch and its unpredictable weather.

So, you both made the leap and moved near Valentine, a small community with friendly faces and warm hearts. Farris found a job at a nearby publishing office, where he poured his creativity into his work, while you channeled your talents into selling beautiful embroidered fabrics. Farris supplied your creations to the local markets, and together you earned enough to not just survive but to thrive.

In the evenings, your home transformed into a small haven of learning. You taught the local children, sharing knowledge and igniting a spark of curiosity in their eyes. For you, spreading knowledge felt like soaring through the sky; every lesson was a chance to lift someone else up. You found joy in teaching, especially the girls, encouraging them to embrace their potential and dream big.

⋆⋆⋆

You were now eight months pregnant, combing your hair in the mirror after freshening up in the morning. When you were satisfied with your appearance and turned around, you saw Farris walking towards you, shaking his head in what seemed like mild disappointment.

“What?” you chuckled, touching your hair and turning back to the mirror to check for anything on your face.

He didn’t say anything at first, instead reaching for two bracelets from the jewelry box he had gifted you. He gently put them on your wrists, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You know how much I hate seeing you empty-handed, not looking like a newlywed bride,” he said, his voice teasing yet affectionate.

You let out a laugh, a genuine one that echoed through the room. “That’s because I’m not! It’s going to be a year soon, I’m not so new anymore.”

He frowned playfully and pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. “It doesn’t matter. For me, it’s important to see my beloved ready. It makes me feel happy to see you every time, all dolled up.”

Farris gave a little smirk, his eyes glinting with that familiar playfulness. “And what’s wrong with getting ready for me?” he teased, adjusting the bracelets on your wrist as if they were the final touch to a masterpiece. “It’s a good thing. It should be the first thing you do after waking up, come out looking all lovely, and before I get home too. And it’s not up for debate, alright?” He tapped your nose, his tone both firm and light-hearted, making you grin and blush at the same time.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, shaking your head at his silly demands, which you knew were simply his way of showing how much he adored you. You couldn’t imagine a day without his little ways of making you feel cherished. You are officially spoiled rotten.

"You and your demand of seeing me ready all the time.. I literally just woke up..." You tried to stifle a yawn, still sleepy-eyed as you leaned into him, but Farris only chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with that familiar fondness.

“Well, that’s on you,” he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “If I had my way, you’d wake up ready for a wedding every day.”

You let out another laugh, warm and easy. “You mean you want me walking around in a heavy gown and jewels while I’m like this?” You gestured to your rounded belly, the weight of the baby beneath your hand both grounding and joyful.

He grinned, resting a hand over yours. “Every bit of it. The bracelets, the smile, all of it. Even just like this, especially like this.”

A soft warmth bloomed in your chest, and you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling content in a way you’d never quite known before. “You’re lucky I indulge you as much as I do,” you murmured, trying to sound exasperated, but the smile in your voice betrayed you.

“Well, c'mon, that's my right as your husband now, and I’m grateful every day,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His hands stayed on your shoulders, steady, as though grounding you there with him. "After all I earn for you, to buy you all this so you wear it. Not keep them in a damn box."

He leaned down, his voice a quiet murmur. “You’re glowing, you know. It’s like… even the smallest things make me grateful that you’re here. That you’re mine.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the moment. “I know,” you murmured back, brushing your fingers lightly over his hand. “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And this little one,” you added, giving your belly a gentle pat, “well… I think they’d agree.”

He chuckled, a sound that felt like sunshine on a quiet morning. “Then I guess I’d better keep making you happy, huh? Not that I’d want to do anything else.”

He drew you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then another, softer one, on your lips. His hand drifted down to rest gently over your belly, his thumb tracing gentle circles.

“Love you both,” he said quietly, the words wrapped in tenderness. You rested your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and let out a sigh of pure contentment.

“Love you too,” you whispered, letting yourself sink fully into the embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of the moment.

⋆⋆⋆

Before you knew it, time slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, and you were blessed with a beautiful daughter, Adia, a precious gift that illuminated your lives in ways you never imagined. Farris had poured his heart and soul into building another room in your small house, carefully crafting every plank and stone, each stroke of his hand a testament to his love and commitment since the moment he learned you were expecting.

Now, Adia was six months old, a bundle of joy who filled your days with light. You had just finished your evening classes and, with a sense of anticipation, hurried to cradle your daughter, who stirred from her peaceful nap.

"Aww, my cutie," you squealed, "Look who's finally back to earth." The innocence of her giggles somehow bittersweet in the quiet of the house.

You carried her into the kitchen, “Let’s get some (coffee/tea) ready before dad comes home,” you said softly,

“Let me heat those pastries too-” you began, but were abruptly cut off by a sharp knock on the door. Confusion twisted your stomach as you approached, pausing just before turning the handle. A sudden thought struck you like ice water.

Farris has keys. Why would he knock?

With a racing heart, you crept to the window, peering through the curtain. The dim light of the lamp outside cast eerie shadows across the porch, and your blood ran cold. There they were, three masked men.

Charles stood at the front, his fist raised to knock again, while Sean shifted nervously beside him, eyes darting around as if sensing the gravity of the moment. But it was the figure in the distance that sent a chill through your bones.

Arthur.

Leaning against his horse, Arthur's entire form was cloaked in black, the cigarette smoke curling from his lips, lingering like a sinister whisper in the dusky air. He stood there with an unsettling casualness as if the weight of his presence meant nothing to him. He looked more dangerous than the last time you had seen him, if that was even possible. But you knew better. He was not here to offer a friendly visit. No. His intentions were laced with malice.

He looked like death himself.

“I swear, Arthur, this is the house. I saw her here,” Sean insisted, his voice taut with urgency.

Panic gripped you. No, no, no. You backed away from the window, the world narrowing down to the pounding of your heart and the cold sweat that broke out across your skin. One hand flew to cover your mouth, the other instinctively clutching Adia’s small head to your chest, as if you could shield her from the impending storm.

This has to be a fucking nightmare.

The dread of your past clawed its way back into your mind, and you jumped at the sound of another heavy knock, followed by murmured voices. The familiar cadence of Arthur’s tone sent a wave of nausea through you. It felt like a sinister echo from your past, threatening to shatter the fragile peace you had fought so hard to build.

What if Farris comes and they do something to him? The thought twisted in your gut, a dark cloud overshadowing your desperate need for escape.

No, please, God.

You raced to turn off the stove, the pot of simmering pastries forgotten, then dashed for the back door, your only thought to reach Farris or find help. But as you flung the door open, dread flooded through you. There stood Charles, frozen in place, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else, guilt.

"N-no, please...Charles.... don't. Leave me alone, I beg you..." you stammered, your voice trembling.

He took a step back, but his eyes betrayed him, brimming with remorse. "I am just following orders."

Before he could close the distance, instinct kicked in, and you slammed the door shut, your breath coming in panicked gasps, adrenaline coursing through you. Even Adia seemed to sense the shift in the air, her small body tensing against you as you bounced her gently, cooing in a feeble attempt to soothe her. But the noise around you grew louder, the panic rising like bile in your throat. You needed a weapon, something to protect her.

Suddenly, the front door was thrown off its hinges, splintering wood echoing through your small sanctuary. Heavy footsteps thudded against the floor, reverberating in your chest as you sprinted to Adia’s room, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

Then came the shattering of the back door, another sound that sent your heart racing as you backed away in horror, retreating to the closet. You clutched Adia tightly, covering her mouth with your palm as silent tears streamed down your face.

Everything is over.

Everything you had built, your little heaven, was about to be shattered. The weight of dread pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. His anger was palpable, suffocating, reverberating through the very walls of your home. After all these years, if he had still found you, it meant he had been hunting you, waiting, and his patience had finally run out.

An impatient Arthur was not a forgiving one.

'Farris, don’t come home. Please, just don’t.' The words twisted in your throat, heavy with despair, as you whispered them into the darkness. It was the first time you ever wished for him not to return, and the realization shattered your heart.

“Shh, baby, please,” you murmured frantically, rocking Adia gently.

This time they didn't bother kicking the door, it was simply blown to pieces. The door frame splintered, and you could hear the heavy footsteps.

It took no longer than 5 seconds for him to fling the closet open and stare down, with eyes that now were empty. So different, so fucking different from the ones you grew up with.

"A-arthur..." You whimpered out shaking your head as if telling him to just forget all this and go.

"Grab the fuckin' kid, Charles."

"No- NO! NO! ARTHUR! Don't you touch her!" But it was futile for you to fight against the latter as he snatched her like a doll and took her out with Sean. You leapt after her but Arthur grabbed you by the hair and slammed you to the ground, wasting no time to pin and immobilize you.

“Had fun?” he sneered, landing a blow to your face that sent stars dancing in your vision. He held back, just enough to keep you conscious, but the intent was clear, this was just the beginning. “Oh I bet you did, right? While I worried sick day and night!”

The next hit came like a thunderclap, the sting of his palm echoing through your skull. “Fuckin' left after everything I did! Like I didn’t even fuckin’ matter to you at all! And then what do I find? That you are here, enjoyin' your life, OPENING YOUR LEGS FOR SOME GUY!?”

You coughed blood and managed to stop him from hitting again another "A-arthur, s-sorry. Please, don't...I'll visit you in the camp whenever you want me to, you can come here when-" He landed another slap and then gripped your chin with a bruising force shutting you up, the pressure on your throat tightening to the point where you struggled to breathe. You were sure that you were going to die then and there. His fingers dug in, a cruel reminder of the power he wielded over you.

“You don’t get a say in this,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing, a dark promise wrapped in each word. “You’re comin' with me, whether you like it or not. And if you make a sound, I’ll make sure your precious little lover pays for it.”

“NO! I-I’ll go,” you gasped, each word a desperate attempt to stave off the storm brewing within him. “I’ll go with you.” Adia's wails outside the room made the situation only worse, every fibre of your being just telling you to rush out and hold her to your chest.

Every fibre of your being screamed against this nightmare, but the thought of what he could do to Farris, the man who had given you a life, a family, made your heart race with terror.

Arthur’s grip slackened just a fraction, enough for you to catch a gasp of air, but his expression remained cold, and calculating. “You better mean it, or I swear to God, I’ll burn everything you love to the ground just to watch you squirm, just like you made me, for all these fuckin' years."

He yanked you to your feet, his grip on your hair forcing you to stumble forward, a reminder of his unyielding control.

“Adia…” you whispered, desperately trying to reach him with your thoughts. Pleading him pathetically again, once fucking again. It's never going to end.

He didn’t respond, but the sight of Charles trailing behind, cradling your daughter, confirmed your worst fears, they were taking both of you. The cold night air bit at your skin, amplifying the fear clawing at your insides. Sean’s sympathetic glance pierced through your growing anger, igniting a furious spark within you. You lost it when he mouthed a 'sorry'.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words slipping out before you could contain them.

Arthur halted, his body tense as he turned to face you, fury simmering just beneath the surface. “The fuck did you jus' say?”

“I-” You hesitated, the weight of your situation pressing down harder with every passing second.

But before you could form a coherent thought, a voice shattered the night.

“HEY! (Y/N)! Who the hell are you guys!?”

Your heart plummeted. “FARRIS, NO! RUN, PLEASE!”

Arthur’s gaze flickered with annoyance, and without a second thought, he threw you aside like a ragdoll, sending you crashing into Sean’s waiting arms.

“What, not happy to see your brother-in-law?” Arthur taunted, a cruel smile spreading across his face as Farris stepped into view, his expression shifting from shock to rage, but he knew better than to lose his cool in front of these criminals.

It was the brother you had warned him about, the outlaw who had haunted your past like a shadow.

“Look, I know how you must feel,” Farris began, his voice steady despite the terror swirling around. “But we’re married now. You can’t just take her away from her family, Sir. Not like this.” His calm facade masked the storm brewing beneath, his protective instincts surging in response to the sight of you, bruised and at the mercy of men he had no trust in. Not to mention his daughter being held by one of them.

“How I feel? I'll tell you how I felt. I barely slept not knowing if she's even alive out there, in this brutal world, searchin' for her at every chance. How I feel, my ass,” Arthur’s voice dripped with venom, his eyes narrowing.

“You son of a bitch, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Just let him go, Arthur, it's not his fault! Don't do anything to him! You can kill me if you want!" you pleaded, your voice breaking as you looked between the men who now stood as barriers in your life, one of them representing something you desperately wished to protect. “Please, don’t do this.”

Farris took a cautious step forward, his body tense, but he had to for his family.. “You don’t have to do this, Sir. She's your family, don't hurt her like this, don't take her away like this, from me, we love each other...please. Think of the child at least.." He pleaded, trying his best to win this losing battle.

"Is that so? Alright."

Arthur drags you forward, placing the pistol in your trembling hands. Farris stands there, helpless, his gaze moving from Arthur to you, filled with confusion and a sorrowful acceptance.

Arthur leans in close, his whisper twisted with venom. "You’re the one who ran, sister. You wanted this life, didn't you? Now, you end it. Show him you’re done."

You shake your head, choking back sobs. "Please, Arthur... don’t make me do this! Please!"

Arthur’s hand closes over yours, his grip unyielding, forcing your fingers around the gun. "No one to run to this time," he says, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "If you want to keep breathing, you’ll do as I say. Or maybe he’d prefer a slower death? I’ve got time.”

“Do it,” he hisses, tightening his hold until the gun aims squarely at Farris.

Charles steps forward, desperation flickering in his gaze. He turns to Arthur, his voice low but urgent. “Arthur... come on. Just let him go,” he pleads, his hand shielding Adia's eyes. “He’s done nothin’ worth all this.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches, his eyes cold and unyielding as he keeps the gun levelled. “Stay the fuck out of this, Charles,” he warns, his voice a harsh whisper. “She made her choice the moment she left without a word. This is your punishment, ya' hear me?.”

You glance at Farris and the sadness in them nearly undoes you. His lips part, trying to reassure you even in his final moments. But the fear is there, and the heartbreaking acceptance, as he takes one last look at Adia in Charles's arms and then meets your eyes. He nods, just once, his lips moving in a silent farewell. “I love you both, never forget it and this isn't your fault. Remember that," he whispers, his voice barely reaching you.

Arthur digs his fingers into your wrist, forcing you forward. "Go on then," he sneers, "show him how much you love him."

"Fa-rris no, please, I love yo-" The words painfully get stuck in your throat, as you hiccup.

Your vision blurs, but with Arthur’s iron grip guiding you, your finger finds the trigger, pressed down by his strength, leaving you powerless. The shots echo through the stillness, ringing in your ears as you watch the light fade from Farris’s eyes.

4 shots.

He drops to his knees, his gaze still locked on yours, one last shuddered breath escaping him.

Arthur finally releases you, and you collapse, the gun falling from your hands as you sink to the ground, numb with shock and despair.

"See?" Arthur’s voice cuts through the silence, laced with dark amusement. "This was always your choice. Remember that."

“No!” you choke out, tears streaming down your face, screams sounding raw and primal, rip from your throat as your heart shatters into fragments. You lunged toward him, instinctually rushing to his side cradling him.

“Farris! No, no! Please, don't! I am so sorry!” Your voice was a repetitive haunting echo in the cold night air, but he didn’t respond. You couldn’t breathe, a flood of emotions clawing at your throat.

Arthur stepped forward, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he savoured your despair. "Guess, he just had to die today. Did a mistake comin' back. And you..."

With a swift movement, he grabbed your arm and pulled you away, dragging you toward the waiting horse tethered nearby while you thrashed and tried to reach back into Farris's embrace. “This is how you pay for your betrayal, to me and the gang,” he hissed, hoisting you onto the horse with a force that left you gasping.

“HE DID NOTHING WRONG! YOU FUCKIN' BASTARD! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! YOU ARE ALL FUCKED UP!" you pleaded, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision as you turned back to where Farris lay. The cold grip of dread consumed you, and every fibre of your being screamed for answers.

Arthur merely chuckled, a dark and chilling sound that reverberated in your ears. “Wrong place, wrong time. It’s a shame, really, right boys?"

He mounted the horse behind you, the weight of his presence suffocating.

You felt the horse begin to move, hooves thudding against the ground as the distance between you and Farris grew. You strained against the reins, desperate to look back, to Farris or to see Adia safe in Charles's arms but Arthur’s grip on your waist was unyielding.

“Stop! Please!” you cried, your heart racing with each passing moment. “Farris! Farris!” The name escaped your lips like a prayer, but the silence that answered only deepened the void within you.

Every beat of your heart echoed the same questions, how could he do this? Why would Arthur tear apart the life you had fought so hard to build? You started thrashing trying to jump off the horse and when that didn't work you started smacking yourself on the head.

“Stop wailing like a fucking lunatic,” Arthur growled, his voice low and menacing as he grabbed your wrists. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.”

And so you cried, tears mingling with the night for the life you had lost and the love you had been taken from.

⋆⋆⋆

You stumble back into camp, hollowed out by grief, barely feeling the hands that try to guide you or the murmurs of people around. It’s like your own heartbeat is drowning out everything else, each beat a cruel reminder that you’re alive while he’s… Farris is gone. Every step feels heavier, like dragging chains through mud, and the weight of it pulls you into a fog that you can’t see your way out of. It’s all too much, and you can’t bear the thought of another breath in this place, under Arthur’s shadow.

Arthur’s voice comes from behind, gruff and dismissive. “Get her settled, Miss Grimshaw. She’ll calm down soon enough.”

It’s a trigger, hearing his voice, so callous, so indifferent. The anger wells up, fierce and desperate, drowning the fear as you pivot, finding him with your gaze. Arthur turns, catching sight of you just as your hand reaches out, fast and resolute, seizing the gun holstered at his hip. You grip it tightly, the cold metal a final, grim comfort.

“Hey!” Arthur’s eyes flash, more surprised than afraid, but he freezes, hands raised as if to placate you, assessing the danger in your expression.

“What’re you doing?” His voice is low, a warning, but there’s a crack in it, something uncertain. He’d expected grief, but not this.

You steady your trembling hands, the barrel pointed between you and him and everyone around. Your voice, a rasp torn from the depths of your pain, barely makes it out. “Why should I stay? Hm? After what you’ve done… after you took everything from me?”

Arthur’s expression darkens, his jaw clenched, but he doesn’t make a move. The camp falls deathly silent, all eyes watching. “You wouldn’t, stop it." He says, but there’s a flicker of doubt there. He didn’t think you had this in you.

“I have nothing left,” you hiss, the tears burning in your eyes as you hold his gaze. "Just...why Arthur..?"

Something flickers in Arthur’s face then, a flash of worry, but he schools it quickly. “Put it down. Now. You’re no good to anyone dead. Least of all that little girl of yours.” His voice cuts, striking right at the fragile remnants of your will.

At the mention of Adia, your grip weakens and you glance at her, your baby who will not even properly get to know her father. The thought of her, defenceless and alone, keeps you anchored just long enough for the fight to drain from your muscles. Your hands go limp and Arthur immediately takes the gun from your hands. You snatch your daughter from Charles, your knees hitting the dirt as the tears finally spill over, and Arthur is there, one hand resting on your shoulder as if he’s won some twisted victory.

But he can’t take your grief. That’s yours alone.

There were old faces and new ones at this camp, but you couldn’t bear to see anyone, each familiar visage only serving as a reminder of the life you once knew, a life that felt like a distant memory now. Even Annabelle has died, as Hosea informed you with a heavy heart. It just couldn't get any worse.

You spent days in a daze, confined within the solitude of your tent, surrounded by the oppressive security that hung in the air like a storm cloud and staring at your wedding ring sometimes, reminiscing about the fairytale of life that got snatched from you in a blink of an eye. Each moment dragged, your sense of time warped as you replayed the events that had brought you here, Farris, Arthur, and the unbearable weight of loss.

You hold Adia close, not letting anyone near her, not the women from camp who bring food and clean clothes, and especially not Arthur. Each time he approaches, there’s something in his gaze, a mix of guilt and a twisted sense of responsibility, as if he’s trying to make up for what he’s done. But you don’t forget, and you don’t forgive. Never.

You could never forget how he looked at her with disgust that day, his contempt for you and your choices etched deep into his features. Calling you all sorts of names. Reducing you to some mere wench.

He tries, though, lingering outside the tent with trinkets and offerings. Small things, toys he’s scrounged up from nearby towns, little comforts he imagines will make it easier for you both to settle in here. You can see the frustration tightening his jaw every time you refuse to accept anything from him, every time you turn your back, clutching Adia tighter.

“Y’ain’t lifting a damn finger here,” he announces one morning to the others, his voice rough with command as if he’s declaring some kind of victory over the damage he caused. He stands tall, as though he’s your protector now, trying to mould himself into something noble. “Keep her off chores, you hear?”

His words carry through the camp, but they’re hollow, a show for the others. To everyone watching, it’s Arthur taking care of his sister and her child, doing what any family man should. Yet to you, it’s just another layer of manipulation. His guilt is a quiet thing, veiled beneath the orders he barks, the food he insists you eat, and the rare times he offers to hold Adia.

Then, one fateful day, you discovered you were pregnant. The news came as a surprise, a sudden twist in a life already tangled in chaos. For a fleeting moment, happiness flickered within you, a light in the darkness. Yet, that joy was overshadowed by your relentless sorrow for Farris. You cried daily, the tears mingling with the hopes and dreams you had lost.

No one left to wait for now, no one whose warmth you could sink into at night, no one to smile at as you fuss with your hair, adjusting every strand just right. Who would make you feel seen and safe, someone to dress up for, to look at with eyes full of love, watching their gaze soften in return? Your hands remain empty now, the very same hands that Farris doted on , the fact that the last thing he saw was them holding a gun at him. Your heart would shatter physically every time you think about it if it was practically possible.

He wouldn't be here to witness the birth of his second child.

“If it’s a boy, what a fine addition that would be, right Arthur?” you overheard Dutch say one day, his voice carrying through the thin fabric of your tent. You cringed at the thought. You knew exactly what Arthur’s vision entailed which was a shadow of Dutch's, raising your blood, his nephew, to be just like him, a cold-blooded killer, a reflection of the darkness that now surrounded you. The thought filled you with dread, the prospect of your child inheriting that legacy.

You were going to raise your son like how Farris was. A gentle soul.

As you held Adia close, her soft breaths a balm against the tumult of your thoughts, it steeled your resolve. No matter the cost, you would raise your children to know love, to know compassion and to see beauty in a world that had torn you apart.

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inkspiredwriting · 1 day ago

Text

A Hair-Raising Experience

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was many things: a former assassin, a time-traveler, a seasoned survivor of apocalypses. But a hairdresser? That was a stretch.

Yet here he was, scissors in hand, staring at his wife Y/n with a look that blended confidence with mild panic. Y/n, sitting on a chair in their bathroom, looked up at him with a mixture of trust and fear.

“All the salons are closed,” she said, twisting a lock of her hair nervously. “I just need a trim, Five. How hard can it be?”

Five swallowed, steeling himself. “Piece of cake. I’ve tackled tougher jobs than this.”

He combed through her hair, trying to channel every memory he had of watching people get haircuts. Y/n closed her eyes, and Five took a deep breath, bringing the scissors to the first section of hair.

Snip.

“See? Not bad,” he said, more to convince himself than Y/n.

Y/n, eyes still closed, smiled. “I trust you. Just… not too short, okay?”

Five nodded, focusing intently. The problem was, with each snip, he noticed something that needed evening out. A little here, a little there, and soon he was in over his head.

“What do you think?” Five asked, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Y/n opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. Her expression shifted from cautious optimism to sheer horror. “Five! What did you do?”

Five winced. “I... may have overestimated my abilities.”

Y/n’s once even, shoulder-length hair was now a choppy, lopsided mess. One side was significantly shorter than the other, and there were random, uneven chunks missing.

“Oh my god, I look like a demented hedgehog,” she said, her voice a mixture of laughter and panic.

Five put the scissors down, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I see the problem. I can fix it.”

Y/n eyed him skeptically. “You’re not touching my hair again.”

A frantic call to a 24-hour hair salon later, they were driving through the city, Y/n wearing a baseball cap to hide the disaster. Five sat next to her, muttering apologies and trying to stifle his nervous laughter.

At the salon, the hairdresser took one look at Y/n and raised an eyebrow. “Tough week?”

Y/n pointed at Five. “My husband decided to play stylist.”

The hairdresser gave Five a knowing smile. “Ah, the classic ‘husband haircut.’ Seen a few of those.”

As Y/n sat in the chair, Five hovered nearby, wincing at the critical assessment of his work. The hairdresser, a woman with bright purple hair and an array of tattoos, shook her head in amusement.

“Well, let’s see what we can do here,” she said, running her fingers through Y/n’s hair. “Your husband’s given you a very… unique look.”

Y/n shot Five a mock glare. “Unique is one way to put it.”

The hairdresser snipped away, skillfully transforming the chaos into a stylish, albeit shorter, haircut. Y/n watched in the mirror, relief flooding her features as the damage was undone.

“See? It’s fixable,” the hairdresser said with a grin, stepping back to show the finished product.

Y/n smiled, feeling the now even, sleek bob. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

Five sighed in relief. “Thank you for saving me from sleeping on the couch.”

On the drive home, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the whole ordeal. “You know, you were so confident.”

Five chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry, Y/n. I really thought I could handle it.”

Y/n reached over, squeezing his hand. “You did your best. It’s kind of sweet, actually. Just… no more haircuts, okay?”

Five grinned, a mixture of sheepishness and affection in his eyes. “Deal. From now on, we leave haircuts to the professionals.”

Back home, with Y/n’s hair restored to its former glory, the incident became a new inside joke. They shared a bottle of wine, toasting to their survival of yet another Hargreeves misadventure.

And though Five may have failed as a hairdresser, he succeeded in proving, once again, that even in the most comical disasters, their love and laughter would always see them through.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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procyonloser · 3 days ago

Text

"Halloween is the best human holiday," Adam said happily, strolling down the sidewalk in his modern human disguise, which happened to just be himself minus the wings and height. But, confusingly, he'd put on a new disguise, a costume that made him look like some sort of convict in white and black stripes. Lute followed behind him in a black dress and wig, less convinced, more judgemental over the humans they passed on the road.

"I truly don't understand, sir..." she said, jerking sideways as a group of kids in horrible masks ran past them.

"It's the one holiday that is equally beloved by children and adults, Tits. Kids get to be over the top and loud, they get all the candy they want, and can just be little menaces - and adults get to dress up all slutty and bang strangers in masks!" Adam told her, looking wistfully across the street. "They got the idea from me, you know. My descendants. I'm so proud."

Lute made a noise of doubt. "All I see are a bunch of future sinners..."

Adam shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe, but remember they're innocent until they die! We don't kill them until then. Right now, we just have fun, enjoy the-"

"-creativity, the ambiance, the theatrics of it all!" A voice cut Adam off, as two figures walked towards them on the sidewalk. The shorter of the two was gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Humanity is incredible, look at how inventive they are, look at how they've taken their cultural fears and turned them into something to celebrate!"

Adam blinked, agreeing with the man totally. Not enough people understood how amazing humanity, (and therefore himself), was.

"Thank you! You get it!" Adam said, gesturing to him as they got closer. The guy was dressed as a strange little bunny man, and his companion was a tall blonde woman dressed as- oh, Adam realized she was Jessica Rabbit. She was hot, undeniably, but she looked entirely uninterested in that he was saying. Her fucking loss, the guy totally understood what he was trying to tell Lute. "I've been trying to tell her how much better Halloween was as a holiday!" Adam said, hip checking Lute.

The bunny man perked up, eyes big and bright as he nodded his head. "My wife doesn't get it either, but I love it! I love all the death related holidays, but this one is just so fun! I love candy! I've had about five bags so far, humans keep thinking I'm a truck or trunter, am I saying that right?"

"I know this town pretty well, do you want to hang out with us while I show her around?" Adam asked the couple, watching as the woman blanched, but the man beamed up at him, hands on his hips.

"Boy, do I! What do you think, sweetie? This sounds like fun doesn't it?!" He turned back to his wife, who seemed honestly like a giant stick in the mud. The husband was cuter anyway, Adam thought.

"Why don't you two go along," she said finally with a deep sigh. "I think I'll stay and talk with your...friend."

Adam looked over at Lute, who seemed focused on the Jessica Rabbit woman like a hawk, not particularly happy with her either. But, oh well, if she was going to be a bitch the entire time, he'd rather hang out with the stranger.

"Come on, at least someone will listen to me." Adam said, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder, nodding his head down the street.

Lilith's horns began to curl out of her skull as she stared down Lute, who had pulled a knife out of who knew where.

"We need to stop meeting like this, Lute." Lilith said lightly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "How many Halloweens has it been now?"

"35," Lute bit out in reluctant anger. "What kind of spell does Lucifer use to disguise himself from Adam?"

"None, dear, Adam is just stupid." Lilith answered with a smirk.

"What does that make Lucifer?" Lute countered, raising an eyebrow.

"An optimist," Lilith responded effortlessly. "Would you like to get a drink first before we fight?"

Lute begrudgingly agreed.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel lilith #lucilith #i wrote this in September and forgot about it in my drafts until now LMAO

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cupcakefactory · 2 days ago

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Things mc would do for their depressed partner...aka all the rfa! or just saeyoung/saeran :D

Thank you so much for this!! i had a lot of fun writing it for you, i hope you enjoy. Our M/FLs need some love sometimes they can't always be strong!

Wordcount: 1637

Spoilers for Mystic Messenger below.

ZEN:

It would be very rare for ZEN to get depressed, he was a positive person by nature and even when things got hard a simple run was normally enough to shake those feelings. The only time you could recall seeing ZEN depressed was when he hurt his leg and couldn’t rehearse; and the following actions from Echo girl after. Even then, he cheered up quickly, with help from yourself and Jumin Han.

That being that, it would be rare ZEN was depressed enough to need any assistance from you, but after being rejected from 3 jobs he had auditioned for he was starting to feel down in the dumps.

Cheering ZEN up is simple in some ways and complicated in others. First you need to actually discover he's feeling bad - he is an actor by trade. He doesn’t want to worry his partner with something that he feels is superficial but once you know how he's feeling you can start working on cheering him up. First thing first, you went to the convenience store to pick up his favourite drink and a snack - he normally gravitated towards salads but you brought him something sugary instead. Everyone craves sugar when depressed and Hyun Ryu wasn't the exception. Once you’d shared the treats you went for a run with him - if running isn’t your thing don’t worry, he would go slow for you to help you keep up. Maybe even just walking around your local park if that's all you can manage - he wouldn’t mind or complain. He could see how hard you're trying to cheer him up and that in itself works magic.

By the time you both get home and collapse on the sofa all his worries are forgotten; another job would come before long. Thanks to your efforts today he learnt that he was the luckiest man alive because he got to have you by his side.

Yoosung Kim:

Since dating Yoosung you had noticed he had a tendency to worry over things and try to be a hero always. He wouldn’t let you know if he was struggling - just like when he was attacked in mint eye and injured his eye! You had no idea it had happened until the party and you were almost impressed at how easily he hid it.

Once you spent enough time together you learnt easily how to know when Yoosung was struggling, he had a habit of isolating himself a little and that was the case recently. He was so close to finishing college; and Jumin had told him if he passed with his expected grades he would personally help him open a vet clinic in Rika and Sally's honour. He was stressed and working himself to the bone to prove that he could do it.

You felt his anxiety from afar when you visited his dorm; you got concerned with Luciel mentioned in passing that he hadn’t been on LOLOL recently - you knew why he was working so hard but it was important to take breaks too! When you arrived, you pulled him away from his work despite his protests and made him share the take out you had brought with you. A simple meal would do him some good, and after that you were able to convince him to play some games with you.

By the time you both fell asleep next to each other on the sofa, he felt lighter and happier. The exams didn’t feel as looming with you by his side; and if he didn’t get the grades? You would be by his side and that's enough.

Jaehee Kang:

Jaehee was a strong woman; no one would argue that - ever since she found her step and was able to leave C&R and ask you to be her partner she hadn’t had a reason to feel blue. You were her main help, you made her days better and working by your side was more than a dream come true.

However, running a new business is hard work. Jaehee was a very talented lady, emails and numbers came easily to her thanks to her years of experience as Jumins assistant. The Cafe normally ran like clockwork; nothing went wrong except for the few times a delivery was late.. Until, multiple employees called in sick and Jaehee came home stressed and tired. She had worked herself to the bone and the only thanks she got was confrontation from the customers.

You made her a drink when she got in, settling easily next to her on the couch where you let her head fall onto your shoulder. She stayed like that for a while before you stood - walking to the DVD collection in the corner and picking up one of her favourites. Zen's musicals always helped Jaehee after a hard day when she worked for Jumin, she could recount every word from her favourite ones now. Why wouldn’t it be any different working by herself?

After all - she had the best partner she could ask for. Who knew how to help her stay calm and knew what her favourite musical was after all.

Jumin Han:

Jumin was taught from his childhood that his emotions didn’t matter. People worked tirelessly to try and impress him and get his praise, no one did anything for him simply because they wanted too until you came along. You came to his aid just because you wanted to make things easier for him and to help him smile again.

That's what he loved about you; how you gave him a reason to feel again. You made his emotions feel more real than ever before. He felt he could be honest with you about all the struggles in his life. Work stress was something he simply shook off but after meeting you? He didn’t bother too anymore - you were his dear partner. He returned home that day tired, his eye bags heavy as he didnt even both greet Elizabeth before collapsing onto the sofa. He didn’t want to worry you but he was tired; more so than he realised. Once you had gave him some time to collect his thoughts you sat by his side, giving him a glass of wine and taking one for yourself if that's what you wished. Jumin would tell you his struggles in time - but right now he appreciated the quiet by your side.

Your quiet breathing as he lay his head on your chest was more than enough noise to calm his racing mind, make him feel better and make everything make sense. He had never felt so lucky before.

Saeyoung Choi:

Saeyoung hid his depression behind laughter and jokes - you had worked that out quickly in the chatroom; and that had been proven when he came to your aid in the apartment. His jokey demeanour was gone; the sadness in his eyes obvious as he worked and even more so when his brother appeared.

Once everything setted and he had his family back, Saeyoung became more and more like Luciel. He joked all the time, teased everyone around him and this time it wasn’t to cover the hurt in his heart - it was to be himself for the first time in his life. Saeyoung had never been happier - but the rare times he did struggle with depression it wasn’t hard not to spot. He went quiet, isolated in his room until someone; normally you; came to check on him. He didn’t know how to tell you how he felt, he didn’t need to. You’d always be there to give him a drink and a shoulder to cry on. He didn’t want to talk about how he felt, the memories of his past destroying his future. He would simply cry on your shoulder and you'd stay there for him; for ever.

He knew how lucky he was, to get his family back for one but also to get to have you by his side. Someone who understood, who didn’t push too hard when things got hard and someone that would come to his side without a moment's warning. He didn’t need to ask you for help because you would offer it without even thinking - That was one of the things he loved most about you after all.

Saeran Choi:

Saeran had all but escaped hell by the time he had a moment to process his own feelings. He didn’t really know what it felt like to be depressed because he had never been truly happy not until you came into his life and taught him it was okay to be him, to be human and to feel.

He struggled with feeling, too caught up in the new found joy life had gifted him by having you at one side and his brother at the other. He had no reason to be depressed - but sometimes at night when everything got quiet and everyone was asleep he couldn’t stop his mind racing through everything in his life. Everything that had happened and everything that could happen. You heard him, every time he woke in a cold sweat and scared; he claimed your love cured him but you knew it couldn’t, this was no fairytale. You wanted to reach out and touch him, gently caress his hair to make him feel better but you wouldn’t not unless he asked for that as you knew your touch could be triggering. Instead, you hummed a gentle melody off you tongue which was able to ground him and make him feel better without the strain physical touch would cause.

He knew how lucky he was to have picked you as his game tester, he knew that now more than ever - the gentle melody on your lips calming him and luring him back into sleep and away from the horrors his mind created.

If you enjoyed this please check out my masterlist! My requests are always open :D

#mystic messenger #707 mystic messenger #zen mystic messenger #saeran mystic messenger #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #v mystic messenger #707 #hyun ryu #mysme

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