#then i hope you can forgive me for not recognizing you

[fkinavocado]

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him. 

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either. 

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts. 

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway. 

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que. 

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door. 

There she was. 

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed. 

She’d done so much for them, too. 

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans. 

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief. 

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons. 

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help. 

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards! 

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely. 

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him. 

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his. 

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement. 

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy. 

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it. 

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality. 

Just like with everything else.

*

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust. 

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot. 

Explained all the vivid “dreams”. 

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it. 

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut. 

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste. 

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out. 

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck. 

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked. 

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them. 

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in. 

Smell him, even. 

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away. 

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear. 

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious. 

This was insanity. 

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion. 

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook. 

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing. 

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.” 

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?” 

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it. 

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that. 

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other. 

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love. 

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

#dwd #don't worry darling #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #jack chambers #florence pugh

[frenetic-chameleon]

Is there anything that you really want to do before you die?

honestly, i think i'd just like to really live first. you know? i want to do more, experience more, learn more, see more. the universe is so vast and beautiful and busy, and i am so small and tired but part of it nonetheless. i want to see the world get better than it is right now. i want to feel better than i do right now. i want to build up a better support system for myself and start seizing opportunities as they come to me. i wanna see myself and the people around me keep growing into the people we want to be, even as that ideal changes with us. mostly, i want to be safe, and loved, and happy. i hope that answers your question

#incredibly ominous! i appreciate the ask #i can't really tell if this is a genuine question or a humorously worded threat #originally i was going to give a snarky answer bc i am frankly very superstitious and this felt like a test a supernatural being would give #like in the stories #but it didn't feel right. so i ended up going with my most simple and heartfelt answer instead #so hopefully if against all odds this is some kind of test. hopefully thats enough #and if it's a genuine question... i hope the same thing #if it was a threat. then it was funny + surprisingly considerate. and i hope my answer managed to reach you anyway #i don't actually recognize the blog this is from but im not always the best at that so if we are familiar with one another already #then i hope you can forgive me for not recognizing you #mine #but also if you just wanted a simple answer then i guess i'd like to travel the world for a while. maybe live in a different country #i think i'd like wales but i don't know any welsh. except how to say good morning (i think) #so i would feel bad being like. the usamerican anglophone just moving to a place without knowing the language #(even if they also speak english. still. it would feel almost disrespectful of me)

[fossilizedhysterics]

i dont have the energy to write a whole post abt it so have me live tweeting while i watched the new video 🙏

#if my first comments seemed. very mean its bc they were #i was very angry forgive me 🙏🙏 #genuinely tho i am hopeful for the future of this series i love so much and i wish thomas the best #also ummm ft. my pk profile #if you recognize me NO YOU DONT #fun fact: i have been specifically recognized in servers before for being “the guy with all the sanders sides” #several times. #ts crit #ts criticism #ts critical #tss crit #ALTHOUGH i am still a little peeved abt the whole “ofc you can write critisism abt my series” bc it really does feel like we cannot #and the fact i dont think hes ever really discouraged his FANS from getting mad at criticism #just makes me feel a little.... hm........

[llycaons]

not to be a downer and say things like 'jc is doomed to be miserable forever' but imo his most significant trait IS his lack of personal growth. his complete inability to let anything go and his fixation on blaming people for what happened and his insecurity and fear of looking foolish or taking risks or being vulnerable and all strong emotions expressed as anger is really not doing anything for him or for his relationships and at least in the novel it's stated explicitly that he's never going to be able to change so...yeah I think he is doomed to be miserable forever :/

#in the drama I have hope for him still #in the novel hes quite hateful so its fine if he's unhappy #like yeah hes been through a lot and that wasnt his fault #but still blaming lwj and wwx for his parents dying over 20 years later??!! #not to be like 'he needs forgiveness to heal' but he literally cannot seriously still blame them #and recover from his losses #like it is very tragic but he needs to do some work here as well #and I hope the gc is a turning point #after wn told him the truth and like forced him to recognize that other people were hurting too #and hurting for his sake #like hes unable to take responsibility for anything its infuriating #this is not me being a hater btw I dont hae him I realluly want his drama self to heal and find peace #I dont think he and wwx can have a relationship at all until he stops relying on wwx to solve his emotional problems #hes so. hmm. yeah hes very reliant on others to care for him #which isnt even a bad thing on its own but its not rly reciprocal and he never seems to recognize that wwx #also might need that sometimes. well he does a few times in post ss. good for you jc #but I do think for drama jc their closeness in the past and the temple scene will rly #help them move on past it #for novel jc they honesty werent that close so jc rly will be miserable and angry forever. lmao #anyway this is your regular jc programming from someone who literally cant stop thinking about him ✌️ #tl;dr: please take some responsibility for your actions and have some humility and learn to be ok making mistakes you'll be happier for it #cql txp

[debtsunpaid]

tag drop for CHERYL MASTERS from hellblazer, big sister to john constantine, mother to gemma, wife to tony, and forced to accept that a life within those roles is the closest she'll ever get to being a person in her own right! her song is '5&1/2 minute hallway' by poe.

#OOC. #CHERYL TXT. ( 'cause i was hoping that would fix it all. ) #CHERYL HC. ( there's more to this story than i've been letting on. ) #CHERYL VIS. ( but as far as i can see you are still miles from me. ) #CHERYL STUDY. ( i knew he'd get it wrong but i just played along. ) #CHERYL AES. ( when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing. ) #CHERYL LYR. ( there are words made of letters unwritten. ) #CHERYL RE. CONSTANTINE. ( and yes i forgive you. ) #my absolute beloved <3 #broke myself with her image tag bc she truly does not recognize herself anymore </3 #also Very normal about her tag for john. SUPER normal. #sched.

[randomshyperson]

My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.

Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k

A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing. 

But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.

But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.

While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.

Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”

You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.

“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”

Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”

You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”

She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”

“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.

The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.

Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.

Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.

You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.

“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”

Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.

“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.

“No, I mean… you think that too right?”

You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”

She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:

“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”

You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.

-&-

Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.

It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.

You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.

Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw. 

And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.

Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.

“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not. 

You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”

The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.

You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”

Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.

“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.

“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”

You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”

You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”

She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”

You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.

-&-

Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.

The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.

“What?” 

“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.

“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was. 

“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”

“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.

Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you. 

Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close. 

Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.

The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.

Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.

“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second. 

Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.

“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides. 

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.

“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”

You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs. 

Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.

When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”

She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.

It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.

Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.

You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.

"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."

She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.

"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."

Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.

But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.

An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.

Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.

She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.

"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.

It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.

You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.

The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.

She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.

In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.

Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.

"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.

For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.

You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.

"Hey, little witch."

She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."

Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."

She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fics #elizabeth olsen x reader #bottom!wanda #bottom!wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff smut

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader

Request made by Anon:

Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.

Hello to you too, dear Anon,

First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 

Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 

I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!

Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 

“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”

That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 

“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”

He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 

"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 

In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 

“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”

But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #fanfic #x reader #imagines #yandere #headcanons #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere simulator #yandere male #tw yandere #male yandere #reader insert #headcanon #yandere headcanons #male x reader #soft yandere #yandere househusband #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x y/n #drabble #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #s.<3.writes

[dollfacefantasy]

Restless Dreams

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream

word count: 3.6k

a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.

“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”

You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.

It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 

Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.

“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.

“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”

“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.

A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.

“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 

He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.

“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”

“I better,” you grumble with a smile.

“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”

“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.

“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.

“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.

“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.

The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.

Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.

Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.

And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.

Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.

Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.

You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.

Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.

He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.

It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.

He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.

His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.

He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.

Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”

But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.

He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.

At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.

You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.

It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.

“Please.”

He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 

You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.

In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.

More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.

Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.

The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.

“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.

“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.

“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.

“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.

You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.

You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.

“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.

You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.

You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.

“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.

The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.

“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.

His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.

“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.

“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”

Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.

“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.

He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.

“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.

“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.

He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.

After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.

“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.

That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

[lonely-cowboy]

HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER

YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD

MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME

requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)

with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

framed

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”

“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”

Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth. 

You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him. 

But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.

“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.” 

Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.

Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.

Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.

Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.  

You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?

Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.

You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”

An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.

“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.

Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure. 

When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words. 

“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.

From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.

“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”

The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.

“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”

Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.

“Okay…?” you prompted.

“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”

Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.

“I… make you happy?” you clarified.

“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”

With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.

“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”

You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.

“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”

Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”

“It certainly did.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s Prediction

After finding out you might not be so innocent the guys make their move. Pansy's prediction: eventually you’ll give in.

Pick your guy Blaise, Mattheo, Draco or Theo+Enzo

This is part two. Read part one here: Pansy’s  Potion. 

Warning: smut, 18+

Yes, you read that right Theo and Enzo are a package deal. Funny how a few weeks ago I couldn’t manage to write a threesome for Matt and Enzo, but now suddenly my brain is like: here’s a random Theo and Enzo threesome. I guess it’s because my brain thinks those two are just incredibly slutty. Anyway, for Blaise, Draco and Mattheo it’s just ‘average’ smut, I mean nothing too unholy, okay with Draco it’s kinda public soo yeahhh. Smutty readings, dears! 

If you read all four scenario's you get a cookie, bc this is 6900+ words of smut!

You make a formal apology and the guys are so annoyed with you. “I was not myself and I promise it will never happen again, I will not in any way behave like I did yesterday evening. I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me, so we can go back to how it was before.” Pansy’s grinning eyes move between you and the boys. You drive them crazy and then you just want to pretend like you don’t want them. You stare at them nervously waiting for a response and Blaise is the one that ends your suffering by speaking up, though his voice is hesitant. “Suuure.” Enzo nods with his lips in an awkward line. You wanna leave the room so you make peace with only Enzo and Blaise recognizing your apology and quickly say goodbye.

As soon as you leave the common room the boys openly show their annoyance. “An apology?” Enzo asks offended and Pansy snickers. “Yeah, sorry guys. She’s back to pretending she’s an innocent good girl.” Draco huffs. “No fair.” Theodore lets his head fall back a little. “Can’t believe we missed our one and only chance.” Blaise leans forward and focuses on Pansy. “Is there no way to- you know… get the less innocent version back?” Pansy smirks as all boys stare at her with hopeful eyes. “Well, I guess, if you work hard enough for it… she’ll eventually crack, but the only question is who’ll win her over?” 

Forget about slutty saturday and sunday, because the guys had a plan and it involved… slutty smonday.

Enzo was cheeky, his hair was more perfect than ever and when he sat down next to you in class his perfume had your mind thinking dirty. His hand would brush your thigh ever so often, but when you looked at him, his eyes were focused on the professor. 

Draco was determined, holding doors open for you and carrying your books despite your protests. When he would push a door open for you he would make sure your bodies would touch. In the afternoon he would loosen his tie and his smug smile had you bite your lip. 

Theodore was sneaky. During DADA he spotted the perfect opportunity to become your tutor, standing behind you. His warm breath on your neck as his hand slowly traces up your arm to hold your hand in his to guide you through the spell. You learned nothing and blushed like crazy.

Blaise caught you off guard. You were waiting for Pansy in the slytherin common room so you could study together, when Blaise approached you wearing a shirt that showed his perfectly sculpted body. “About this morning…” He began and you looked startled. “You don’t need to worry about what happened, we’re just glad you’re okay.” You force a smile as you try to relax, but a nervous blush still forms on your cheeks. With a sweet smile Blaise moves closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No need to get so shy, I’m here for you.” His voice had you almost falling to your knees, but you’re not giving in and you turn on your heels.

As you turn around, trying to keep composure, Mattheo walks in, wearing grey revealing sweatpants and clearly nothing else. Your eyes widen, moving from his chest to rest on the shape in his pants for a second too long, making him smirk. “You know-” Mattheo starts, voice smug, but you don’t allow him to speak. “No. No. And no.” You say and hurry out of there, leaving Mattheo and Blaise grinning as they watch you. “Oh, she’s close to breaking point.” Blaise says, very pleased, and Mattheo’s grin turns more devilish. 

Blaise

As Mattheo is still staring at the door through which you left, Blaise spots one of your books and instantly a smirk forms on his lips. Oh, you’ll be back and I’ll be here for you. After a few seconds of staring and silly comments Mattheo puts on a sweatshirt and heads for the astronomy tower. Satisfied with the situation, Blaise lets himself fall on the couch, holding your book as he focuses on the door you’ll be walking through any minute. 

Still flustered, you walk in and notice Blaise flipping through the pages of your book. “Quite interesting.” He says and you reach for the book, but Blaise holds it back forcing you to lean a little bit over him as he still lounges on the sofa. You groan and reach for the book giving Blaise the perfect opportunity to move his hand over your thigh. You feel your whole body heat up and move away a little, but Blaise grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him. You yelp and he smirks, satisfied with the position he’s got you in. “Stop playing, Zabini. Give me my book. I need it for studying.” He laughs and wraps an arm around you, telling you he doesn’t intend on letting you go. “You need it for studying?” He mocks and you narrow your eyes. “How about I help you study? Everyone's gone, we have my dorm all to ourselves.” His eyes are teasing and his tongue hungerly moves over his bottom lip. You can’t help but drown in his eyes as your mind wonders what it would be like to be alone with him. 

Blaise lets the book fall to the floor so his hand can move to your hips as he still holds you close to his chest. “No one needs to know. It can be our little dirty secret.” He whispers as his fingers play with your skirt, pulling the fabric higher. The fact that you’re still resting on top of him tells him enough and he pushes on a little. “Let me take care of you, princess.” He whispers seductively, his lips brushing your ear moving to your cheek. “If you want you can pretend afterwards no none of it happened.” His lips brush yours and instead of pulling away like the smart girl in you wished you would do, you move with his lips allowing him to kiss you tenderly. 

Quick enough a hand moves to the back of your head holding you as he deepens the kiss. When the sloppy kiss turns too heated, Blaise pulls away. “Let’s go study.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and you push yourself up allowing him to get up and guide you to his dorm. Once there you get cold feet as Blaise locks the door and you quickly turn around to face him. ”Maybe this was a mista-” You fall silent as Blaise pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect body. A smug smile tugs on his lips as he lets his shirt fall to the floor and moves closer to you. His suggestive eyes meet yours and you let him close the distance between you two. “Still having second thoughts?” He whispers teasingly, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips as his hands roam your back, hips and ass. 

While kissing you passionately, he picks you up and instinctively you wrap your legs around him. He walks you over to his bed, gently laying you down before tracing kisses down your neck while undoing the buttons of your shirt. Hands exploring your chest and earning a sweet moan from you as you lay on his bed enjoying his hands and lips moving along your skin. With his mouth teasing your nipples his hands wiggle your skirt and panties down, before moving his tongue to your bellybutton and kissing down to your pussy. 

You squirm as his kisses close in on your bare cunt, but Blaise shushes you and his hands stroke your thighs making you moan involuntarily. You can feel his smirk against your skin and you bite your lips to keep yourself quiet not wanting to show how sensitive to his touch you really are. However, your efforts are pointless when he kisses your folds and inserts a finger, instantly making you grip the sheets as pleasure rushes through you. You had no idea how badly you needed this man until now. You bite down on your lips to muffle the desperate sounds that escape you. “Blaise-” You softly whine as a weak protest as he plays with your sensitive cunt. Needing more of his touch you hesitantly move your hips and he eagerly gets rougher, making you squirm again and forcing him to hold you still. His hand reaches for one of yours, still clinging to the sheets. He entangles his free hand with yours showing you love while forcing an orgasm onto you by fucking your pussy with his fingers and tongue. 

You arch your back as you softly cry his name, unable to control yourself as you climax with his mouth still working your soaking cunt hard. “Look at that.” Blaise whispers, grinning as he crawls over you, leaving sloppy kisses on your breasts before meeting your lips. “You got there fast. You must’ve really needed it.” His eyes smugly search to meet yours, but as soon as they do you look away. You were not in the mood for slytherin arrogance. Your hand traces down to the bulge in his pants. “I bet you really need it as well.” You whimper as he kisses the sweet spot of your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll sling your legs over my shoulder and I’ll let your perfectly wet pussy take care of me.” His words have you roll your eyes and arch your back as he sucks at your neck, while unbuckling his belt with one hand. 

A cry that almost sounded like yelp escapes you at the size of he reveals and your whole body heats up as his grinning eyes look up at you. “Way to boost a guy’s confidence.” Blaise jokes and you’re ready to hide out of embarrassment. His large hands move up and down your thighs as he takes a good position between your legs. Your body tenses as his length sinks into your cunt, his eyes are focused on your entrance and a smirk spreads on his lips as he sees you take all of him. A soft gasp from you causes him to shift his gaze at you and you meet his eyes. He smirks at your flustered face and parted lips. He could see in your eyes and in every expression that you loved the feeling of him inside of you. He leans down to peck your lips and your hand traces his torso, making him smile lovingly at your touch. 

“Tell me what you need, darling.” His low whisper as your cunt throbbing and your head spinning. You shake your head, reluctant to sound like a needy girl. The smirk on his face grows filthy and his hand moves up and down your thigh. Getting impatient for an answer since his dick was painfully hard Blaise moves his lips to your ear. “Do you want me to fold you and fuck you?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his guttural voice. When Blaise locks his eyes with yours you sheepishly nod, but that doesn’t do it. “Talk to me baby.” He demands and his hand moves to play with your nipple rather roughly as punishment for not answering his question and you gasp. “Fuck me, Blaise, please fuck me.” You whine and he takes in the view and your words for a moment, before he moves your legs to rest on his shoulder and grabs your hips. 

His thrusts are deep and he grunts at the wonderful feeling your walls provide, increasing his pace as a reward for having such a wonderful cunt. Your mouth hangs agape as your stomach fills with pleasure and your mind gets hazy as Blaise pushes you towards your climax. Being in perfect shape Blaise holds a steady pace for quite some time, but he knows you're close and he himself is desperate to cum with you. Like having your knees almost pressed to your chest was enough, Blaise rests a hand on your belly increasing the pressure as he thrusts deep into you. Sure other people knew what was going on by the sounds coming from the room, his hips slamming against yours, you crying his name as you cling to his biceps and Blaise’s heavy grunts as he feels himself lose control. A painful cry escapes you as your orgasm hits you and your clenching walls have Blaise spill and almost immediately collapse on you. “Fuck, you’re something else.” Blaise breaths and your watery eyes meet his, he made you feel like a goddess in more than one way.

Carefully Blaise slips out of you, before grabbing some tissues for the both of you and falling down next to you on the bed. “Our little dirty secret, right?” You ask Blaise, referring to what he had said earlier. Blaise smiles at the ceiling and then rolls over to face you. “Yeah.” He cups your cheek and pecks your lips. “You’re my dirty little secret.” No way this was going to be a one time thing.

Mattheo

Still flustered, you curse yourself when you realise that you forgot your book. For several seconds you contemplate on whether to go back or just give up on your plans to study tonight. However, you really wanted to revise your material before tomorrow's class so reluctantly you turned around heading back to the slytherin common room. You are almost there when you suddenly hear Mattheo’s smug voice.  “Change your mind?” Immediately your face heats up, he still hadn’t bothered to dress properly and it bothered you in more than one way. Smirking, Mattheo approaches your nervous figure. “I- I forgot my book.” You finally manage to say and Mattheo nods, far from impressed by your answer. “Sure, that’s all you want?” His eyes suggestively scan you from head to toe, before resting on your lips. Your chest heaves as your mind runs crazy with all things you really want, but you nod. “Just my book.” You bravely, but calmly say. 

Mattheo watches you for a second and you have no idea what’s going on in his mind, but suddenly he pushes you against a door of a broom closet. “I don’t believe you.” He whispers, agitated and obviously hungry for you. You gasp as your back collides with the door, giving him the opportunity to crash his lips onto yours and move his tongue to dominate yours, while simultaneously opening the door and pushing into the privacy of the broom closet. “I think you want me as badly as I want you.” You hold onto the shelves behind you for stability as Mattheo grinds his dick between your legs while aggressively kissing and sucking your lips. One hand kneading your breast as his other hand has a firm hold of your thigh, so you have one leg wrapped around his hips, giving him perfect access to rub his hardening member against your pussy. Your breaths get unsteady and you stop resisting the moment, allowing your hand to rest on his bare chest as the other entangles with his pretty curls, while he bruises your neck with hungry kisses. Vocal moans of pure pleasure escape you as Mattheo plays with every sweet spot your body has.

“I need you noisy.” Mattheo breathes, pulling away from your neck to ravish your mouth and making you moan against his lips. You can feel him smirk against your lips and as much as you hate it, it turns you on even more. You try to subtly buck your hips against his demanding more friction, but the gentle move doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re far from innocent. Do you want me to fuck you?” Mattheo’s voice is filthy, he’s so pleased to have you needing him. “Tell me, do you want me, love? Do you want me to have my way with you?” His husky whisper and hot breath on your skin has you whimper and cling to his neck, eyes needy and drowning in his. You nod. “Please.” You whisper and as much as Mattheo wants you to say it again, louder or even scream it and beg for it, he himself is too desperate to tease and taunt. 

“Be a good girl and let me hear you.” He whispers, lips against your ear before getting to his knees, eyes never leaving yours. His hands move up your legs, slowly, and still his eyes stay locked with yours. He wants to see everything that you feel, every sensation that runs through you. You make a soft sound when his hands move up your thighs and reach your panties. Anticipation fills you as he pulls them down slowly, while he leaves gentle kisses up your thighs closing in to your cunt. Another moan slips as your whole body tenses at Mattheo’s soft lips only inches/centimetres away from your desperate entrance. “Please.” You moan when you get impatient, purposely sounding as needy as possible knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist. And you were right, if you beg and sound as sweet as you do, Mattheo is more than willing to comply. His mouth moves between your legs, tongue slipping through your folds, hands grabbing onto you to keep you from squirming when he digs in hard, tongue playing with your clit.

He wanted you noisy, he needed you to come for him. To him it was like his pride depended on it. So there was nothing sweet about how he works your sensitive throbbing cunt, he was mercilessly devouring you while getting rock hard at every moan or whimper that filled the room. When you feel yourself get closer your legs get shaky and your breaths unsteady, making him take full control of your body pressing you against his face and making you yelp as his tongue flicks at your sensitive spot. That desperate sound makes Mattheo moan against your pussy. That groan of a moan has you throw your head back and give in to all the feelings building up, whining as Mattheo tastes your juices not giving you a moment's rest. He loved how messy he had gotten you, the usually so perfect behaving girl.  

Part of you was relieved when he moved away, allowing you to breathe, but you miss his touch quickly and your eyes look soft, but still sparkle enough to make Mattheo grin. His dick was painfully hard and seeing you out of breath but still in need, made him almost spill in his pants. He was over the moon that he could fuck you right here and now, but he wouldn’t let you see how overjoyed he was and kept a filthy smirk up. “I want you naked.” He demands eyes locked with yours as his hand moves to his sweatpants. His demanding voice bothers you but you want his touch and you want his dick. Your eyes fall to his hard cock, clearly visible through the fabric, and without meeting his eyes you slip off your clothes as Mattheo watches, touching himself.

Now fully naked, Mattheo closes the distance between you two and rests his head against yours. “Fuck, you’re gorgious.” He breaths, voice dominant and yet adoring. He drops his pants revealing his size, pumping himself a few times and soaking his hand in precum. You spread your legs a little, resting against the shelves of the small broom closet as Mattheo grabs your thigh, lifting you as he lets his tip explore your soaking folds. You throw your head back at his perfect touch and he groans at the feeling and the view. The moment is intimate as Mattheo is gentle, almost careful, with you when he moves deep inside of you, stretching your walls and making you whimper. He watches your every expression as he keeps on pushing until he’s settled deep. A soft breath leaves you and he feels himself fall in love with your perfection. He leans closer his free hand cupping your face and kissing you tenderly. 

However, Mattheo's eyes quickly move to your chest and then lower to your pussy filled by him. His hands grips the flesh of your ass, so he has a firm hold on you. His hard grip has you gasp and a smirk tugs on Mattheo’s lips as he starts rocking slowly and ever so gently increasing the pace, making sure you get maximum pleasure from every thrust. You cling to the shelves behind you when Mattheo gets rougher, stretching you deep and hitting you right. “You need this, you want this so bad, don’t you?” His voice is dirty and he doesn’t just move, he’s so consumed by the moment that he starts slamming you on him. Your eyes scan his sweaty and panting body as he works so hard to give you all of him. “Mattheo.” You breathe in between soft blissful moans and his eyes shoot up to yours, dark and having you guessing what he’s thinking. “Again.” He whispers as a gentle demand and you comply, doing your best to move your hips with him as you allow yourself to shamelessly moan his name, turning him on even more. You were becoming too much to handle for him. He almost felt the urge to beg for you to come or even to just allow him to come. Luckily for him, your shameless moans reveal how close you are to your orgasm. 

“Matt- ah- I’m so-” He doesn’t let you finish as your voice pushes him too close and he starts pounding into you even harder. “That’s okay, love, come- fuck, please.” He can’t believe he actually begged. He’s a mess and so are you and almost simultaneously you reach your high. Panting, he lets himself fall against you and holds your unstable body as he slips out of you, making you hide your face in the crook of his neck. For several minutes your naked bodies just stay entangled in one another, enjoying the pleasure rush through your body. Slowly, you feel Mattheo’s smirk grow against your cheek. “There’s no denying it now. You want this and you need me.” You ignore his arrogant tone and just continue to rest your arms around his neck and his around your body. “Just admit it, so I can take care of you and we can freshen up together.” Mattheo kisses your cheek softly. “Must you gloat like this?” You huff, still hiding your flustered face and he smiles. “Yes.” God, you loved that raspy, smug voice of his. Neither of you were ready to admit it, but you were down bad for each other.

For Drace, Theodore and Enzo continue reading here

You had apologised and then made it your mission to avoid them for the rest of the day. Despite the guys' attempts, you had kept your composure pretty good. However, Snape was about to ruin it. 

“Out of all the people Snape could’ve paired me with…him.” Pansy snorts at your complaint. “Might get interesting…” Her smile and eyes are devilish and you instantly get more worried than you already were.

Draco

It was late and you were not in the mood for more of Draco’s smugness, but there was no escaping Snape’s project so you headed for the library to meet Draco. It took you a while to find him since he had picked a secluded spot on the first floor of the library. He wasn’t wearing his tie anymore, his hair was a little messy and shirt was partly unbuttoned. He had obviously already done some of the work since he was surrounded by books on the topic. When he noticed you approaching, a bright smile tugged on his lips and you rolled your eyes. When he noticed that he just couldn’t keep quiet. “Not as excited to see me as you were yesterday?”

You took a seat opposite of him and stared at him unamused trying to play tough and not get flustered. “You’ve done some work already?” You ask, changing the subject and gesturing to the books. “Yes, I was hoping if we get it done quickly we can have another dance, I did love the way you moved last night.” This time you try to look stern, but fail, feeling too embarrassed about how you had thrown yourself at him. Clearly remember now how you grinded against him in the middle of the dance floor. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it, I said I loved it.” He gets up from his chair and you open one of the books to avoid his gaze. “Let’s just focus on the assignment, okay.” You mutter and Draco can’t help but think you’re adorable, blushing and muttering. 

He sits down next to you, but you pretend to read the page in front of you while Draco studies your face. You feel his breath on your cheek as he leans closer to your ear. “And what if I told you, I had already finished it.” His whisper makes you look up at him and suddenly you feel his hand on your thigh. “Draco-” You protest with a soft voice, but Draco ignores it and crashes his lips against yours. His tongue moves over your bottom lip begging for entrance and instinctively you give in to him, simultaneously encouraging him to move his hand on your thigh, stroking you gently. 

You pull away after a moment, but Draco’s lips follow you, his nose brushing yours and eyes locked with yours. “This- I- We can’t.” You whisper barely audible and Draco notices your face head up like crazy. His hand moves under your skirt and you gasp, allowing him to sneak in his tongue and kiss you with eager passion. “We can, you just have to keep quiet.” Draco whispers and you feel his hand tug your panties, but instead of protesting you lean closer to him and kiss him hungrily. He moves one finger slowly through your folds, teasing, while his free hand holds your head to deepen the breathless kiss. However, he doesn’t tease long and you feel him mercilessly exploring your pussy and adding another finger to stretch you. You pull your lips away and gulp as he circles your sensitive clit and his mouth urgently finds yours again to keep you quiet. 

Though there weren’t a lot of people that could hear you, Draco knew well enough it only needed to be heard by one to have the entire school know what you two were up to in the library late at night. Mattheo or Theo probably wouldn’t have cared, but Draco respected and maybe even loved you too much to have your reputation ruined by something like this. Yet he wasn’t going to stop playing with you either, he just had to keep you quiet. When you feel yourself get closer at the pace of his fingers moving you hide your face in his neck, softly biting the flesh of his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning, only whimpering softly. Never had Draco had someone so pretty and perfect cling so desperately to him and he loved it as much as it aroused him, making a deep moan roll over his lips as he rested his head against yours. 

You did not know how turned on you could get by a man, until you heard Draco moan like that. In an instant you decided that his fingers weren’t enough. Without thinking about the location you were in, you look up at Draco, eyes needy for him. “I want to sit on your cock.” You whisper and his eyes widen at your blunt suggestion, did he really hear you say that? With his lips parted in shock he nods, leaning back a bit to give you space to move out of your seat. As you get up Draco unbuckles his belt still staring at you in disbelief, but also eager to move his pants down and reveal his hard dick to you. He wanted you so bad and he was about to have you. Blushing and still a little shy you look at his hard member, feeling your pussy throb at the side of his size. 

Slowly and a little insecure about the whole situation while also so desperate to have him deep inside of you, you rest one hand on his shoulder and straddle him. Your free hand moves your panties to the side and Draco holds his size, guiding it inside of you as you sink down on him. “Fuck. You’re-” You interrupt him by placing a finger on his lips to remind him that in a library you have to be quiet. His hand moves to the back of your head and he pulls you in for a tender but intense kiss. 

In an attempt to stay quiet you decide to move slowly, making the moment between you two more intimate. Watching you throw your head back and bite your lip as you ride him slowly but hard has Draco’s fingers digging into your hips as he feels himself get closer really quickly. Shamelessly you grind on his dick, pleasing yourself with every move you make, while simultaneously enjoying Draco’s hungry eyes on you. 

You both struggle to reduce your moans to soft whimpers, but as you reach your high your eyes get teary as you're forced to keep quiet. Draco notices and crashes his lips onto yours for a sloppy and needy kiss as he bucks his dick a few times, hitting your soft spot hard and deep, pushing you over the edge. Soft cries get muffled by Draco’s hungry kiss. Your walls clench around Draco’s cock and he continues to thrust into you, less and less worried about the sounds others might hear. Soon enough he cums, slamming himself deep inside of you and wrapping his arms around you as you both enjoy the ecstasy of your orgasm. After several minutes of panting in each other's arms, Draco gives you a soft kiss on your temple. “Not that I would mind being seen with you, but I think we should pack up and maybe head to a room, mine or yours.” You chuckle, still not really believing what had just happened, what you had done… with Draco Malfoy of all people. “We need to finish our potions project.” You blur out as your mind starts to focus on reality again. Draco cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, I did all the work so you just have to put your name on it.” You frown at his words and he smirks. “Don’t worry about it, you did your part by doing all the other work.” You roll your eyes at his suggestive comment, but when his lips search for yours you meet him for a sweet kiss. 

Theodore + Enzo

“Enzo!” Theodore yells as Enzo walks in wearing only a towel. “What are you doing here? (y/n) will be here any moment.” Enzo fakes a surprised look. “Oh! No! I totally forgot about that.” Theodore grits his teeth, seeing through Enzo’s little act. “You sneaky bastard, you are not stealing this opportunity. Snape partnered her up with me, this is ‘my’ chance to win her over.” Lorenzo stops acting innocent and grins. “Worried this will steal your potions partner away from you.” He gestures at his toned body and low hanging towel, making Theodore roll his eyes at his friend.

Just then you knock at the door. “Yes.” Enzo says one split second before Theodore says “No!”. Angry eyes shoot up to Enzo, but there’s no time for Theo to do anything about Enzo’s presence now as you open the door. Your eyes immediately land on the half naked Enzo grinning at you and you narrow your eyes in confusion. Theodore loses his mind when he notices you only have eyes for Enzo and in a desperate attempt to make you look away he takes off his shirt and his plan works because now your eyes are on him, which makes Theo smirk, proud of his genius. 

“Yeah. Not happening.” You say and turn around, making both guys panic. “No, no.” Theodore says as he closes the door before you reach it. He leans against the door and you watch him with stern eyes, but it’s Enzo who speaks. “Look the deal was you drank the potion to sober up and we do whatever you want.” You don’t turn around to look at Enzo, but just stare at the doorknob. Theodore closes the distance between you two, leaving no space between you two. “It’s okay to want it, we’ll be good to you.” His hands cup your face and make you look up at him, eyes locking so there’s no escaping the truth. Enzo holds his breath as he can feel himself get way too excited at the thought of the both of them actually having you. 

You don’t answer, but you make no move to leave and that’s enough for them to know you want it as bad as they want it. Enzo moves to stand behind you. Shameless pressing his hard dick against you, hands move over your hips to your thighs. “Kiss him.” Enzo says and Theo leans in, knowing you’ll obey. The kiss is passionate and Theo’s tongue is eager to dominate, while Enzo’s hand slips between your thighs and pushes your panties aside, making you hold onto Theo’s shoulders for support. You moan as Enzo’s finger moves between your folds and Theodore allows you to breathe for a second to take in the view before his hands move under your shirt to knead your breasts. As soon as another helpless moan leaves you his lips are on yours again. 

Meanwhile Enzo’s fingers don’t stop playing with your clit as he rubs his hard dick against you. “Tell us, what did you want us to do last night?” Theo whispers, intense eyes focused on yours. You hesitate and Theodore brushes your cheek, while Enzo presses himself closer to you. “Tell us, sweetheart.” Enzo whispers. You’re not brave enough to use your words but your eyes and hand move down to the bulge in Theodore’s pants and he smirks. Enzo’s hand leaves you and Theodore takes a step away from you, unbuckling his pants, making you whimper at the sight of his large size. Enzo still stands behind you with an arm around you as you watch Theodore sit on his bed and jerk his hard member. Enzo kisses your neck, while working on the buttons of your shirt, before getting impatient and just tearing your shirt off. You moan and throw your head back as Enzo takes off your bra and plays with your breasts, while Theo watches, eyes hungry. Fuck, you’re a view.

“If you suck him nice and good, I’ll take care of that desperate pussy of yours.” Enzo’s fingers play with your nipple earning him a whiny moan and taking that as yes to his proposition. Theodore moves on the bed as Enzo guides you towards his friend. Theodore reaches for you, kissing you and cupping your breasts as you crawl on the bed with Enzo right behind you, his hand moving under your skirt and squeezing your ass. Theodore’s fingers entangle with your hair and move your head down to his cock, while Enzo has a firm grip on your hips keeping your ass up so he can easily snake a hand between your legs. Your throbbing clit is victim to Enzo’s endless teasing and playing as you do your best to take as much of Theodore's length as you can, while Theo’s free hand rubs your nipple between his fingers. 

It only takes seconds to turn you into a whimpering and moaning mess as both men play with every part of you, overstimulating you. Your walls clench around Enzo’s fingers, soaking them with your juices. As your orgasm runs through you, your eyes get teary and Theodore pulls you away from his dick to kiss you, but Enzo doesn’t stop and you whine into the kiss. “Do you want him to fuck you?” Theo asks and with watery eyes you nod, ignoring your sensitive cunt in favour of your needy core. A filthy smirk spreads on Theodore lips as his eyes drown in your needy ones. “You like being fucked like a doll, played with like your our toy?” Theodore taunts and you whine as Enzo’s fingers leave your pussy. “Such a desperate little girl with a needy pussy. ‘you gonna take me so good.” Enzo says with a dirty sound to his voice that has you look at Theodore, begging for mercy you know you’re not gonna get because they know you don’t really want it. With a hungry force Enzo rips off your skirt and panties.

Theo moves your head back down as your eyes stay focussed on his smirk. Enzo moans as he pumps himself, before lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper with Theo’s dick in your mouth when Enzo pushes himself deep inside of you. You try your best to focus on sucking Theo’s member, but as soon Enzo starts thrusting immediately keeping a steady pace the best you can do is let Theo bob your head and take him deep every time he bucks his hips needing more. Your moans turn to desperate whimpers, signalling to both Slytherins that you’re close to your second orgasm. With haste Theodore starts fucking your mouth searching his own high so he can come with you. It’s Theodore’s breathy moans that push you over the edge, your body squirm as pleasure washes over you and your walls clench around Enzo’s cock. Theo orgasms only seconds after you, leaving cum dripping from your mouth. “So pretty.” Theodore's hoarse voice whispers as his thumb moves over your lip, holding your chin so you meet his eyes, while your pussy is still taking Enzo from behind you. Theo’s eyes look soft as his mind is still hazy from the high he had just felt. Your eyes are glassy as Enzo has you building up to a third orgasm, hitting you right with every thrust, groaning as he struggles to keep a steady pace, feeling the need to spill inside your tight cunt.

“Fuck.” Enzo breathes, taking you harder each time, making your moans sound like desperate cries. “Fuck. She sounds beautiful.” Enzo says with a heavy breath, making Theodore smirk in agreement as he watches you. “Yeah.” Theo whispers watching your flustered face, orgasm building. You're too overwhelmed to notice Theodore’s smirk turn into a filthy grin, before he moves away from you. “Just spill, Enz. I bet she wants both of us to fill her.” Theo’s words make you sink your head into the sheets as you feel your body get more desperate for another release. Mercilessly pounding into you Enzo searches his own high, turning your moans pornographic as his body repeatedly smacks against yours. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Theo jerk himself like a madman watching Enzo fuck you. Out of breath Enzo pushes deep inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum and enjoying your walls clench as he climaxes. 

You can already feel Theo’s hand trace your body as Enzo slowly pulls out, leaving your soaked but needy cunt aching for release, but also sensitive and overstimulated. You can’t help but instinctively squirm at Theo’s touch, but when Enzo lets himself fall next to you his soft shiny eyes relax your body. He looks blissful adoring your flustered face and he pulls your face closer to his to passionately kiss you as Theo’s large hands grab the flesh of your asscheeks while aligning his thick cum dripping cock with your throbbing pussy. You bury your head in Enzo’s gentle embrace as Theo pushes you towards another climax. “Salazar, you’re perfect like this.” Enzo whispers in your ear as you make soft noises, while a smirking Theo takes you hard, quickly cumming inside. “Satisfied now that your needy cunt is filled by both of us?” You hear Theo ask with a dirty dominant tone and you squirm closer to Enzo’s soft embrace, too embarrassed that you let both men come inside of you. 

Theo leans over you to cover your naked body with a soft blanket, but as vulnerable as you look he can’t help but tease a little more. “Nothing left of that innocent act of yours, you're our little slut now.” You feel Theo’s soft lips place a gentle kiss on your cheek and Enzo squeeze you a little closer, biting his lip still enjoying the wonderful experience. 

Requested tags for this one: @lauramjcmanus @whiteoakoak @bri-mercado-00 @adreamingpendulum

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini #papercorgiworldwritings #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #lorenzo berkshire #theo nott #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fic #lando smut #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction

[ma1dita]

if you need to be mean (be mean to me)

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he leaves before you wake up. You and Luke both can't ignore what's in front of you—and both of you feel guilty leading up to that night (Luke Castellan x dionysus!reader)

warnings: suggestive mdni if you’re uncomfortable – nondescript mentions of sex

a/n: someones gotta take mitski away from the pjo editors for fucks sake. yes, this is based off of ‘i don’t smoke’ (audiotree live) don’t look at me.

(posted 1/30/24 thanks to my betas ellie and lari @lixzey & @mrsaluado )

'lovers, or partners in crime' comes directly after

___

[ you come down and tell me, “i was meant for you”, baby || being with you makes the flame burn good ]

Your father once told you when you were younger that you were a divining rod for mayhem; you attract it, cause it, and in very few instances, you are the cure. It’s why your roles and responsibilities at camp hid you away from your full potential, and Luke knew you could achieve greatness if you left with him. He understood your madness more than you’ll ever know, and saw you for what you are–his cure. But he made his choice long before he recognized his devotion to you, distancing himself in order to fulfill his plans of waging war against the gods. Sweet and sultry words slip from his lips to distract you from the growing distance of his heart from yours. A distraction is what he’s always been, and he’s good at playing the part. After all, everything he’s learned about deception and acting, he’s picked up from you. 

The guilt still sits heavy in his heart as he watches you walk around your bedroom the night before he leaves. Luke’s wondered if there’s any way he can convince you to come with him, but he knows your heart is softer than his, more forgiving. He thinks his damnation is past forgiveness anyway.

You trod over to meet him on your bed, hands full of moisturizer as you climb onto his lap and you look so willing and pliant to whatever he’ll say next. Luke knows you’ve been extra gentle with him lately, and it makes him sigh. This would be easier if you hated each other. But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

Soft hands rub the moisturizer into his skin, delicately caressing his scar, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re smiling and looking how he wants to remember you. His lovely girl, who holds his rage like someone should’ve held his 9-year-old self running away from home. His hands settle around your hips, holding onto you until he can’t anymore and Luke wonders if there was any prophecy out there that could’ve told him that he’d always be running home to you. He just has to take the long way home this time. 

By morning, you might not look at him with this much love, and he’s not even sure you’ll forgive him, so he pulls you into a kiss so deep that even Kronos’s attacks on his mind can’t pull him away.

“Mmmm,” you moan, gasping for air as he continues the assault down your neck, marking you with his lips so you have something to remember him by, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you, angelface?” If only you knew.

“Can’t help it baby, you’ve got a face I’d go to war for,” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips, “and a heart I’d die for.” He’s smiling into your cheek, but his expression falters for a moment when you look into his golden-flecked eyes.

Maybe you know more than you let on, awareness cognizant in your features. The jig is up, and he’s ready for you to call him out on it—but a half smile falls upon your face instead, and for some reason, this feels like the inevitable goodbye. There was never much you two could hide from each other after all.

“I know it’s been hard lately, Luke. But let me take your pain away. Please,” and it sounds almost like you’re begging.

The both of you are a little guilty tonight, hearts heavy and conscious of what this means for the both of you, hoping that your actions will suffice as the coercion, the explanation, the apology— instead of the unspoken truth that will come to light when you wake. 

___

[ if you need to be mean, be mean to me || i can take it and put it inside of me ]

Both of you are more desperate tonight, bodies moving languidly like you have all the time in the world. It’s a conversation in itself as he ruts into you, trying to stuff you to the brim so you won’t forget what it’s like to feel him in your bones. 

‘Promise you’ll remember me.’

Here, in the confines of cabin 12, you are his alone, and there are no gods or monsters that can take away the feeling of you from under his fingertips. Yours are grasping onto his arms, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you will away whatever’s eating at his brain, and through the golden glint of his irises, for a moment he looks like himself again, unburdened and soft. 

‘Is there any other way?’

He’s convinced your wanton moans are his salvation, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his name in your mouth. You’re hanging onto him for dear life as he melts into you, and you wonder if you hold on any tighter, maybe this won’t have to end. But the both of you are chasing an inescapable conclusion, obstructing any thoughts or words with another tangle of your lips. 

‘I don’t know how to be without you.’

Tongues clashing like swords for one last battle, and there’s no winner at the end of this one, no matter how good it feels.

“Luke, p-please!” 

The scream rattles your throat and his fingers graze your pulsepoint as he moans lowly, watching your eyes roll back. It’s undetermined what you’re asking for, but the both of you bask in what comes after, him falling into your embrace as you writhe at the thought of wondering if this is the only glory you can offer him and if it’s enough to satiate his inherent need for revenge. 

‘How do you expect me to forget you?’

___

[ if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room || you can lean on my arm as you break my heart ||  just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are ]

'You could fix him.'

The thought echoes as loudly as Kronos’ orders recalibrate in his brain the edges blurred from your powers, and he stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling as he lets out a deep breath. 

His mind is clearer than it’s been in months, and his gaze turns to see you watching him, messy hair framing your sleepy face. Your eyelids flutter slowly as you both take each other in, immortalizing this moment with both of you hoping the other will change their mind. Luke pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before holding it over his heart. If there was anything else you could do to extract his madness, you’ve already exhausted all your efforts. And if there was a way to make you see his perspective, he’s run out of words to convince you. Both of you are stubborn and more like your fathers than you care to admit; what a shame that neither of you has the power to prove them wrong. The fear is the only thing keeping you both awake now. If you close your eyes, you might never see him again. 

“You need to rest now, baby. Think I’m gonna stay up for a little while longer,” Luke whispers into the dim light.

“Are you gonna stay here tonight?” The words slur from your lips as you fight the weight of your eyelids, desperate for a moment longer with your lover. You hope that even as you lose consciousness you’ll still be able to finish the job for his sake.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be, trouble.”

___

[ i am stronger than you give me credit for ]

As soon as he’s sure you’re asleep, he lifts your hand off his heart and sneaks out from under your covers without a sound. Pulling his clothes on and grabbing his converse, Luke makes sure there’s no trace left of him here. It’ll be easier for you when you wake up, less of his mess to pick up after. He looks around your room and admires how it’s a museum of your relationship—a liberty he was never able to have or fully share with you in cabin 11.

Surely that’s the gods’ fault too, that he’s never had anything to call his own besides you and the space you share with him wholeheartedly. His fingers hover over the photos of you two tacked to your bulletin board, and the flowers he picked from the field sitting in a vase. Luke turns to you, creeping to your sleeping figure, and tucks you in properly under the duvet, hands seamlessly making his side of the bed. He tries to ignore your outstretched hand resting on his pillow.

At the very least, Luke hopes you know that he cares for you so meticulously in this way, knowing that he’s about to lose himself as soon as he walks off the campgrounds. He hovers over the foot of your bed, inhaling the scent of berries and linen for one last time.

“It’s you and me, trouble. I love you.”

Every step he takes towards the door and down the stairs of your loft is a nail in his coffin.

Luke chooses to wage war upon the world so that when you find him again, he’ll be a better man. 

A hero. 

All for you. 

He just hopes that he can see it through.

___

“To make her happy, I would invent God if I had to.” -Marguerite Duras

next part: lovers, or partners in crime

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

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#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan angst #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[shadesoflsk]

    HIS MINI WORLD

ft: Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader summary: Leon experiencing fatherhood. From the day his little miracle's heart started beating to her first steps. warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, self doubts but overall this is just fluff and nothing more! wc: 1.4k author's note: Hello! This is me once again bringing dad Leon content. The last time I wrote him was for Christmas hehe. I don't really know what I did here since this like a combination between headcanons and mini drabbles but hey, it's something. Anyway, take care!

   masterlist

Leon who ever since you announced you were expecting he switched to dad mode. All of his friends needed to know that he was now a father to be. Claire? The first one to know. Chris? He needed to know that he may as well be the godfather of his little blessing. 

Leon who was next to you at every ultrasound appointment. He couldn't even make out where this little bean was but he already called them the most perfect thing. Because, after all, it's the perfect combination of both of you.

Leon who is the first one to buy parenting books. He often told you not so common facts as he read in the middle of the night. Do you know that babies are born with the ability to swim? He made sure to tell you even if you were fast asleep.

“Darling…” Leon gently shook you, his voice was hushed yet it was enough to stir you from your sleep and say goodbye to your precious dreams. “Mhm…? What is it?” Being woken up in the middle of the night wasn’t something you were looking for. Especially since you already grew used to Leon’s schedule. However, you tried not to show any signs of grumpiness.  “Do you know that our baby can recognize music? So… if we put some headphones on your stomach they might know what we usually listen to!” His voice was barely a whisper but it wasn’t enough to hide his excitement.  “Go to sleep Leon…”

Leon who has all the money in the world to buy the most expensive and glamorous crib, yet he wanted to experience how it was to build it. So, he made it from scratch. Of course, with Chris’ help. Even though both of them ended up with splinters in their fingers.

Leon who would rarely argue with you. But when the time comes when you disagree about something and go to bed a bit mad at each other, he would place a hand on your belly as he whispered: I'm mad at you, not at them. Eventually, both of you would forgive each other, even if the argument was just a silly disagreement.

Arguing with Leon was obviously something doomed to happen in your marriage. As much as you wanted it to be peaceful and problem-less, your personalities sometimes crashed. It never led to an actual fight. But Leon was… stubborn, even if he knew you were right, he'd never admit it. So, as you lay on your side hoping that sleep comes faster, you feel a strong and calloused hand over your belly.  “I'm not angry at them so this is only fair.” Leon said, rubbing and caressing the skin that was starting to stretch as it gave the baby more space to grow. After a couple of seconds of silence, Leon started to feel guilty for not giving you attention. You were carrying his baby, he couldn’t act this immature. “Sorry…” Leon sheepishly apologized for his previous banter. An argument should never make them go to bed angry at each other. “I'm sorry too.” You finally responded as drowsiness started filling your mind and body.

Leon who responded “I just want them to be healthy,” when someone asked him about his baby. But he was a bit too happy when you announced to him that he was going to be a girl dad. In his mind, he wanted to have two beautiful princesses next to him. And now, heaven is allowing him to achieve his dreams and leave behind his sorrowful previous life.

Leon who may as well go bankrupt since he buys everything he sees at the shop. Tiny pink dresses and teddy bears are his favorite things to buy. His little princess deserves the world, she’s already his whole world.

Leon who would speak to your bump, his words full of promises and wishes for his baby. And even when you were asleep, he would go on for minutes, expecting his little miracle to hear him.

“You will be so loved… Everyone is waiting for you.” He said one night, a hand caressing the side of your belly. “I have already bought so many toys you will be playing with. Daddy loves you so much.”

Leon who has to go on missions, he can’t just quit. But, he keeps a photo of your ultrasound in his wallet, next to yours. A totem of his love, a physical item that reminds him he needs to return home. 

“Shit…” He hissed as the nurse helped him sit down on one of the chairs. He had recently just come back from a mission which took a toll on him. It wasn’t especially hard since he had help from his new team, yet he believed his age was starting to show in his body. “Mr. Kennedy, your belongings…” The nurse spoke to him for the first time as she picked up Leon’s jacket which had fallen as he sat down. Leon thanked her before he started searching for something in one of its pockets. For a while, he paid no mind to the nurse ministrations. The alcohol swab stung just a bit as she cleaned an injury on his side. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out his wallet and there they were, the photos he always carries with him. A proud smile showed on his face as he was reminded that he had succeeded in another mission which meant Heaven granted him one more day to live. He was alive and ready to continue living..

Leon who would practically faint when you told him the baby was coming, that the time has come. He had previously made scenarios about this situation, thinking that he was prepared but dear God… he wasn’t. 

Dad Leon who sobbed when he heard his baby’s cries for the first time. However, this time, those sounds didn’t come from someone who was suffering as he is used to hearing in his line of job. Those cries were the living proof that he was once again, given a second chance in life.

The first one was when you agreed to marry him. He held himself from grabbing his daughter out of the nurse’s arms. It’s not that he didn’t trust the medical team, but he has waited almost 9 months to see, to hold his miracle.  And even though a part of him fears that his hands are too stained from his job, from his past, and from the near future, he knows that his and your hands will be the ones guiding your baby.

Dad Leon who doesn't know what to do once you were discharged from the hospital. He couldn't spend one second away from the both of you, always checking if you needed something.

Dad Leon who speaks with his daughter as if she was already a grown-up. Her babbles and his words fill the living room as they both engage in a serious conversation.

“Bwaaah” “Yeah, I get it. But you have to understand my point too. If we increase the price of milk people are going to buy even less. “Bwah…” “No need to get so political, miss. I’m simply offering some feedback about the supply and demand of this product.”

Dad Leon who wears matching outfits with you and his daughter. Is the little one wearing pink today? Guess everyone else will too. 

Dad Leon who tries so hard to teach his baby how to say dada. Da-da Da-da, that word is starting to haunt his dreams. However, life works in funny ways since his little one decided that her first world would be “No.”

Dad Leon who is terrified when his daughter starts walking. Those wobbly steps make him have a heart attack each second. 

Dad Leon who hates it when his kid falls and cries. He would literally just look the other way for a second and boom, his daughter fell to the ground. Between the sobs of his little one, he could hear how she says she got a boo-boo. God, he hates gravity. 

Dad Leon who sometimes cries from happiness. Watching his baby girl grow fills his heart with so much joy and pride. The world was a messed up place but whilst he lives, he’ll make sure that no danger ever comes across you two. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and  please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

Previous --- Next

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

An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of. 

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know. 

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld. 

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you. 

It’s all a headache to think about. 

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting. 

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him. 

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook. 

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him. 

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least. 

~

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?” 

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here. 

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove.  “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients. 

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband. 

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.” 

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you. 

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly. 

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face. 

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over. 

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out. 

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to. 

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is. 

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to. 

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…” 

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear. 

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.” 

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed. 

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.” 

Also an uncomfortable reality. 

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

~

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.” 

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. 

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?” 

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm. 

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes. 

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window. 

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work. 

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home. 

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie. 

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

~

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours. 

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember. 

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of. 

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin. 

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in. 

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating. 

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you. 

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live. 

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it. 

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. 

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity. 

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing. 

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week. 

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often. 

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker. 

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper. 

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here. 

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you. 

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal? 

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside. 

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk. 

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting. 

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul 

 010-6203-3087

 010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention. 

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault. 

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear. 

Why did Jungkook cheat on you? 

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault. 

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces. 

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8 

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun 

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station, 

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now. 

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill. 

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building. 

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone. 

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables. 

You need to get this thing turned on. Now. 

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor,  the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you. 

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even  looked at me since she’s been here.” 

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.” 

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.” 

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?” 

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.” 

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his. 

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.” 

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.” 

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked. 

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

~

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud. 

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it. 

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready. 

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find. 

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open. 

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions. 

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight. 

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips.  You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away. 

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word. 

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV. 

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son. 

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane. 

You only want to hear his voice. 

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence. 

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt. 

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.” 

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. 

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice. 

I know. But I had to see you. 

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.” 

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!” 

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!” 

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again. 

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that? 

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.” 

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to. 

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath. 

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

~

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one. 

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha 

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right 

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much 

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty 

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if 

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios 

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

~~

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out. 

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days. 

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane. 

~

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you. 

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving. 

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar. 

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.” 

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.” 

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out. 

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you. 

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder. 

~

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.” 

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!” 

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook. 

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

~~

You hate feeling defeated. 

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device. 

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes. 

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad. 

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t. 

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache. 

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that? 

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie. 

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity? 

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing. 

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen. 

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now. 

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable. 

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this. 

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean. 

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case. 

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.” 

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.” 

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.” 

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept. 

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?” 

 “I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.” 

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory. 

And it seems they’re all out of order. 

~~

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much. 

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself. 

He hates this existence. 

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing? 

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him. 

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkooks fics #Kim Namjoon #Kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #Kim taehyung #our time chapter 7

[dancingbirdie]

I Promised You (Chapter 2)

Here it is! The second/final part to this fic request I received. I worked SO hard on this, and I'm super proud of how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy!

I'm thinking about doing a possible epilogue with a dash of smut and domestic bliss but it's just a thought at this point. Let me know if you'd be interested in something like that!

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, FLUFF, angst, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

The three of you agreed it would be best to wait until the next morning before you attempted the spell. It irked you, having to wait yet another night, but you recognized the soundness in the logic. A good night’s rest and complete sobriety were more prudent, especially attempting something as audacious as this. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to rest without the aid of a sleep potion, so you downed a bottle in one swallow before forcing yourself to crawl into bed. Not long after, Astarion joined you in the four-poster you shared, lying on his back and staring vaguely at the canopied silks above you. You turned on your side toward him, trying to gauge his expression. 

“If it doesn’t work —” he began, breaking the silence. 

“It will,” you affirmed in an ironclad tone. 

Astarion nodded absently, his train of thought undeterred. 

“But if it doesn’t… I want you to know that it won’t be the end of the world,” he finished, turning his head to look at you. 

You stared at him dubiously, quirking a brow. 

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I know you. I know how hard you push yourself. And I know that if this somehow doesn’t work, you’re going to blame yourself for it. If you’re even still here to know if it doesn’t work. Gods,” he grimaced, turning to stare up at the ceiling again. “I still can’t believe the two of you have convinced me of this.”

“I appreciate your assurances, darling, but they’re not needed. I know this is going to work… I can feel it in my bones,” you smiled, reaching for his hand over the covers. Your fingers intertwined easily. He lifted them to plant a kiss on each knuckle. 

“Nevertheless, I wanted it known. I don’t want you crawling on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness if it fails. The very idea that you’re even willing to try this for me is more than enough.”

“I love you,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. Your eyelids began to droop. You could feel the beginnings of the sleep potion taking effect. 

“And I love you, my darling,” Astarion returned, sidling closer and wrapping you in his arms. 

You fell asleep to the sensation of him kissing the crown of your head. 

***

You roused from sleep to the chiming of the first morning bells, your senses on high alert. 

It was morning. It was time. 

You peered over your shoulder to see Astarion still lying beside you, his eyes closed in meditation. You reached a hand behind you to poke him, gently, in the side. 

He scoffed but kept his eyes closed. “Keep those jabby little fingers to yourself, pup.”

“Just seeing how alert you are” you teased. 

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. I’m perfectly aware of my surroundings,” he quipped. 

“Good, good… That means you’ll be expecting this!” you laughed as, all at once, you half-jumped, half-clambered on top of him, pinning him to the bed. 

He hadn’t been expecting it, if his annoyed cries of outrage were anything to go by. 

“Unhand me, you little beast,” he cried as he attempted to pin your arms to your sides. “Have you gone completely mad?” 

You giggled as he wrestled you into compliance, grinning mischievously as you sat atop him. 

Seeing your expression, he huffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Honestly,” he chided. “Can’t you ever just behave?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” you smirked, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. 

He squawked in surprise at your suddenness before leaning in to kiss you deeper. 

After a few moments of heated embrace, you broke from the kiss, both of your breathing a bit ragged. 

“Gale will be here soon,” you murmured. “We best get dressed.”

“Bah. Don’t mention him when I’ve got you straddling my lap like this,” Astarion grumbled. 

You laughed but wiggled your way off of him anyway. He growled his disapproval. 

“It’s almost time,” you whispered excitedly, darting across the bedroom to fish some clothes out of the dresser. 

Astarion turned to recline on his side, head propped up in one hand, watching you from his vantage point on the bed. Piddling about the room as you were, you failed to notice the look of sincere worry splayed across his features. 

“Yes,” he murmured. “Almost time.” 

***

Gale arrived shortly after the two of you had dressed and descended the stairs to wait in the den. Per usual, all the curtains in the cottage were closed, preventing any sunlight from creeping into the rooms. Or any prying eyes from peering in. Not being blessed with dark vision as you and Astarion were, Gale muttered a string of curses as he stumbled into an overgrown houseplant you had been nursing, nearly invisible in the gloom. Astarion suppressed a laugh while you murmured a series of apologies and began moving hurriedly about the room, lighting candles to help the wizard see a bit better. 

Anticipation skittered across your skin and through your body as you helped Gale prepare for what was to come. You conjured a cot, gathered some medical supplies, and laid out some blankets for when you inevitably passed out. Meanwhile, Gale set to work on warding the room to prevent any collateral damage to the cottage or neighboring houses should the spell go awry. You tried to avoid glancing at Astarion, who was perched in his reading nook, one leg bouncing with nervous energy. You hoped that if you just carried on, business as usual, it would make him less inclined to call the whole thing off. And, too, he despised being coddled in front of an audience, even if it was your old companion Gale. 

Finally, finally, all the preparation was complete. You turned slowly to survey the room. Formerly the den, it now resembled a half-hospital ward, half-wizard’s keep with all the furniture shoved aside to one corner, a cot and medical supplies positioned in another, and a sizable runic circle drawn in chalk in the center of the room. You had everything you needed. Now, it was just time for the spell. 

“Do you feel ready?” Gale asked carefully, observing you taking in the room. 

You turned to him and smiled. 

“Yes. I’m ready,” you answered. Confidence bloomed in your chest as you walked forward to take your place in the very center of the runes. Then you turned to Astarion. 

“How about you, darling? Ready?” you asked, reaching out for his hands. 

You could see the anxiety in his eyes, rounded as they were, but he nodded once and rose with preternatural grace to walk forward and take your hands. You both stood stock-still, facing one another. 

Despite being on solid ground, in the comfort of your house, it suddenly felt like you were on the precipice of something incomprehensible. This home, this room where you had shared so many wonderful memories, was now a liminal space. Whatever was to happen, neither of you would be the same afterward. It was a heady feeling, the awareness that you were about to walk headfirst into cataclysmic change. 

“I love you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Whatever happens. I love you.”

“And I love you,” you returned, smiling broadly. “Whatever happens.”

With a final reassuring squeeze, you slipped your hands from his. Closing your eyes, you rested your palms on your diaphragm and began to take a few deep, concentrating breaths. Centering yourself for what was to come. 

When you opened your eyes again, you felt ready. Calm. Assured. 

“Let’s begin,” you intoned. Both Gale and Astarion nodded wordlessly. 

With your eyes locked on Astarion, you reached into the well of magic within your body, drawing up power slowly, methodically. You began channeling it through your fingers. Almost as though they were doing it on their own accord, your hands lifted to begin performing the spell’s gesticulations, your wrists twisting and fingers curling with perfect precision.

Then, in a low but strong murmur, you began to recite the required incantation in Celestial. It was a lengthy script that you had spent months memorizing and practicing in order to pronounce the words flawlessly. The words poured from your lips in lilting, seamless tones as you continued to shift your hands and maintain your gaze on Astarion standing before you. 

After a few moments, the candles you had lit around the room snuffed out in unnatural synchrony. The runes encircling the two of you began to emit brilliant white light. While they touched you as well, the rays seemed to direct themselves intentionally toward Astarion, bending so that every bit of him was illuminated from head to toe. The light left him unharmed, however, washing over his skin like a gentle caress. The effect left him looking like a veritable angel. You committed the sight to memory, glorious as it was. 

It carried on like that for some time, uninterrupted, but you reckoned you were nearly halfway through the spell when you felt a sudden shifting within you. The sensation of your magic changed. What had once felt like open channels coursing through your body was now beginning to feel more constricted. Like something was compressing your power. 

Sweat began to bead on your forehead, and your bones began to ache as though your entire body were being drained of all its energy. Distantly, you realized that one of your knees was also beginning to buckle. But you couldn’t stop now. You knew from your training with Gale that if you paused, if you faltered in the incantation or hand movements even once, the spell would be ruined. And there would be no second chances. 

Refusing to be deterred, you pushed with all of your might against that fatigue, willing yourself to maintain your focus on the spell. On Astarion. On the look in his beautiful eyes. Was it just your imagination, or were they starting to look a bit different?

Just as you began to feel your second knee buckle, a strong pair of hands braced around your shoulders. Holding you up, providing you support. You couldn’t break to look behind you, but you didn’t have to. You knew it was Gale. Your kind, long-suffering companion. Your closest friend. You trusted him. You knew he wouldn’t let you falter. 

Sustained by his added support, you managed to utter the last remaining lines of the incantation. Your arms were heavy and growing lethargic, but you willed your hands to finish the final movements. You could feel you were on the verge of unconsciousness. Your magic was screaming in your veins to relent, but you bullishly forced your body into compliance. 

You will not fail, you chanted in your mind. You promised Astarion this would work. 

Finally, finally, the last syllable fell from your lips. As the room descended into hushed silence, you felt your magic give one last, desperate surge before abandoning you completely. The shock of it caused you to lose all remaining strength, catching Gale by surprise as you slumped gracelessly to the floor. 

You lay there with eyes wide open, but you could barely take in your surroundings. Everything appeared to be covered in dark, gauzy film. You could hear rustling around you, above you. Then a pair of hands were grasping your face. You couldn’t make out the words they were saying to you. 

In your last few seconds of consciousness, you could have sworn you saw a pair of startling blue eyes peering down at you, concerned. 

Funny, you thought in a delirious stupor, none of your friends had blue eyes. 

***

“Vital signs all look to be in safe ranges. Their magic is completely depleted, but that will resolve itself over a few days of rest.”

Astarion listened to Gale’s explanation, but his eyes never wavered from your face. It was so foreign, seeing you like this, wan-faced and unconscious. Of course, he had seen you injured before, but no wounds had ever rendered you so still and lifeless. It felt utterly unnatural for you to be this motionless, when you were usually such a tumbleweed of frenetic energy. The anxious, nonsensical part of him was itching to shake you awake, will you into consciousness by sheer brute force. 

“Astarion, did you hear me?” Gale’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes.”

“They’re going to be completely fine.”

“Yes.” Astarion replied absently, eyes never leaving your face. 

“Astarion.”

“What?” he hissed, finally lifting his gaze to the wizard. His voice had as much bite to it as a rattlesnake prepared to strike. 

“The spell worked,” Gale smiled. 

“I– I know,” Astarion replied, peering back down at you. “My fangs are gone, I think.” 

He paused, swallowing thickly, before continuing. “I can’t feel them anymore. It just feels like regular canines now.”

“Don’t you want to take a look?” Gale asked cautiously. 

Astarion’s eyes flitted up to meet the wizard’s gaze and then back down to your sleeping form. 

“We don’t have mirrors in the house,” he replied in a timid sort of tone, sidestepping the question. 

“I can conjure one. Here–” Gale paused, then began murmuring a few phrases in a language unknown to Astarion. 

After a moment, an ornate, floor-length standing mirror shimmered into existence in the center of the room. Astarion flinched, staring at it, caught between two diametrically opposed urges to flee from the room and sprint toward the mirror. How was it that both feelings could exist simultaneously in his body, a distant part of him wondered. 

“Go on,” Gale encouraged. “See for yourself.”

Astarion glanced down at you one last time before releasing a shaky breath and moving from the side of your cot to the center of the room. He approached the mirror at an angle, so that he couldn’t yet see his reflection. If he had one. 

He knew he should just charge up to the blasted thing and see for himself whether it was true, that the spell had completely worked. But something about the mirror just felt more real, more meaningful, than the notable absence of fangs in his mouth. And that made it a thousand times more intimidating. Seeing his reflection for the first time in over 200 years? It was something he had only dreamed about for decades and decades. Astarion didn’t know how he would bear it, if he stepped in front of that mirror and saw nothing but the back of the room reflected. 

He knew Gale was watching him surreptitiously as he tried to maintain his composure. He really did not want to break down completely in front of the wizard, no matter how good a friend he had been to you both over the years. 

Finally, clenching his eyes shut and with a grumbled “Fuck it, just look” to himself, Astarion sidestepped to stand fully in front of the mirror. He opened his eyes. 

And then he was watching himself open his eyes. 

His beautiful, cerulean blue eyes.  

The jaw of the face he saw in the mirror dropped, mouth opening in shock. His jaw. His face. It was his mouth he was watching as it opened. 

He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Slowly, he raised one hand to his hair. The mirror image tracked his movements. He watched himself as he threaded his fingers through his curls. His silver, perfectly coiled locks. He marveled at how they laid so carelessly posh on his head, giving him a tidy yet windswept sort of look. 

His other hand lifted to touch his jaw. His eyes tracked his fingers’ movements in the mirror as they traced the sharp cut of his jawline. When he turned his head, he noticed the puncture marks on his neck were nowhere to be found. Not that he had ever seen them, of course, but he had felt them. Those warped indents left over from Cazador’s brutal transformation process. Many of his unfortunate victims over the years had commented on how barbaric the scars appeared against the otherwise perfect skin of his neck. But looking at himself now, nothing remained on either side of his neck than spotless, alabaster skin. 

His eyes darted wildly about his reflection then, barely able to comprehend everything he was seeing. His unblemished, pale skin. His full lips. His refined patrician nose. His sharp cheekbones. His delicately pointed elven ears. His perfectly defined brows. The thick, dark lashes that surrounded his eyes. Blue eyes. The broadness of his shoulders. His trim waist. His lean yet muscular legs. The way his physique alluded to a subtle but powerful amount of strength. 

He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And he could see it for himself now, for the first time in centuries. He could see it all for himself, those things his former lovers had praised him for. The things you complimented him on. The features he caught you ogling time and time again.

And then, he felt something truly remarkable inside his body. A sensation long since forgotten but now returned to him in full force, as though it had never left. His heart was beating in his chest. Pounding, in fact. Almost as though it would blast a hole right through his ribcage. 

It was overwhelming, exhilarating, and stupefying all at the same time. And suddenly, like a swift punch to the gut, the magnitude of it all wrenched the very breath from his lungs. He crashed to his knees, watching his reflection as he slumped before the mirror. 

A strangled cry clawed up and out of his throat as his mind twisted itself in knots, trying to accommodate this reality alongside everything else he had known and experienced before. He felt altogether too much and nothing at all. Tears poured from his open eyes as uncontained sobs wracked his body.  

Amid his emotional outburst, Astarion registered a gentle hand against his upper back. A solid presence against his side. Gale. Dear, sweet Gale. 

Distantly, he realized the wizard’s hand did not feel like a searing heat against him anymore. In fact, he felt no warmer than Astarion felt. Like their body temperatures were near equal. Before, that had only ever happened when his spawn siblings or Cazador had touched him. But now, he was as warm as any other living being.

Living. Being.

Before he could seriously reconsider it, Astarion crushed Gale in an embrace as he continued to weep, the need for companionship and solace a sudden ache within him. The wizard held him with all the comfort and compassion a friend could offer, rubbing his back in soothing circles and murmuring words of assurance. 

Finally, after some time, Astarion peeled himself away from Gale’s embrace. He dried his eyes on the cuff of his shirt and attempted to restore some remaining ounce of his dignity. Gale sat quietly next to him, affording him some companionable silence to gather himself. 

“Ahem,” Astarion coughed, attempting an air of normalcy. “Th-thank you, Gale.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” Gale responded with a gentle smile. “Truly, I am so happy for you.”

Astarion nodded, peering about the room, his eyes landing on the mirror once more. 

“It still doesn’t feel real,” he murmured, watching himself speak the words.

“Well, you could always take the test one step further and walk outside,” the wizard suggested. 

“No,” Astarion shook his head, glancing back at you, asleep in the cot. “I want to wait until they wake up. Do it together.”

Gale nodded in understanding. Peaceful silence permeated the room once more. 

“Gale?” Astarion asked after a few moments. 

“Hmm?”

“If you tell anyone I wept on you like a newborn babe, I’ll fucking kill you.”

A hearty guffaw erupted from Gale’s mouth at Astarion’s words. 

***

Consciousness rose up in you slowly, as if emerging from a deep body of water. You felt around the sheets blindly, realizing you were back in your bed. Strange, given the last thing you remembered was slumping to the floor before Gale’s feet. 

Had the whole thing been a dream? Your mind reeled at the thought. 

Then you hesitantly reached down, reached inward, for your magic. The result was immediate and evidence enough: your well of magic was not nearly as expansive as it had been before. What had once felt like a reservoir the size of a lake now felt akin to a pond. Still potent, but a much smaller resource. 

That’s okay, you reasoned to yourself. It will all be worth it, if it worked. 

You refocused your attention to your surroundings, peering around the room for any sign of Astarion. You had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been hours or days later for all you could gather. 

After a few moments, you heard the door creak. Your eyes darted over to the sound of the noise, and you watched as Astarion cautiously entered from the hallway. At the sight of you awake, he paused in the doorway to look at you. 

His eyes met yours. Blue eyes. Dark, cerulean irises. 

Then he gave you a broad smile. No fangs. Perfectly normal, elven teeth. 

Suddenly you found yourself unable to see anything as your vision blurred behind a rush of tears. It worked. 

It really, truly worked.

Your arms outstretched, you beckoned to him, childlike, wanting nothing more than to feel him close to you. Astarion huffed a laugh as he crawled into bed with you, pulling you into a warm embrace. 

Laying your head against his chest, you began to weep anew as you heard his heart beating against your ear for the first time. A reliable, strong thump-thump, thump-thump. It was, without a doubt, the loveliest sound you thought you had ever heard. Astarion said nothing, just held you as you cried tears of pure joy, of relief, into his shirt. 

After some time had passed, you finally detached yourself from his chest, putting enough distance between yourselves that you could truly take in his changed features. You noted the absence of the puncture wounds on his neck. You stared unabashedly at his gorgeous eyes. Tentatively, you reached a hand out to part his lips with a finger. He chuckled as he surmised your intentions before opening his mouth slightly to allow you to see his perfectly normal-looking canine teeth. 

“Have you gone outside yet?” you whispered in a scratchy tone, your voice rusty from lack of use. 

“Not yet. I was waiting for you, darling,” he smiled. 

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, about a day and a half, I’d say,” he replied. “Your snoring has been absolutely egregious, by the way,” he continued, a wicked little smirk gracing his mouth. 

You smacked him lightly on the arm. “How dare you!” you cried with mock outrage. “I cure you of vampirism and this is the thanks I get?”

“You cured my vampirism, not my cheeky personality, darling,” he teased, but then grew more serious. “Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

You squeezed his arm in assurance. “I feel fine. Still a bit weak, but I should fare better after some food and a little fresh air.”

“And your magic?” he eyed you carefully. 

You paused, biting your lip. 

“Don’t sugarcoat it, darling,” he warned. 

“I think it took a lot from me. Permanently, that is. My well of magic feels much smaller, but it’s still enough to defend myself with, if the need ever arises.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. The look on his face was one of utter guilt. 

“Don’t be. Astarion, look at me,” you beseeched him, clutching his face in your hands. “I would do nothing differently. I’d give it up all over again for this. To see you cured. This is a gift.” 

He let loose a halfhearted laugh. “I think it should be me saying that last bit rather than you, my dear.”

“Are you kidding? Think of all the blood I’m saving myself now that you’re finally cured,” you quipped, winking at him. 

A true, hearty laugh bubbled past his lips. “Leave it to you to say something so crass during such a serious moment.”

“But you love me,” you cooed, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Always, my darling,” he returned, pulling you closer to him as his mouth descended upon yours. 

***

The first morning rays were peaking over the horizon when you cracked open the cottage door to peer outside. Your gaze wandered across the rolling hills beyond the main thoroughfare, catching glimpses of the herdsmen and farmers who were out beginning their days’ work. They were the only other folks up and moving about at this time of day. 

You took in the cloudless sky, painted with beautiful pastel smatterings of oranges, pinks and blues. The air was pleasantly misty as a gentle breeze washed across your face, bringing with it the subtle scent of chimney smoke from neighboring houses. 

It was, by all accounts, an incredibly mundane morning. At least for everyone else besides you and the pale elf lingering behind you on the doorstep. 

“Are you ready?” you asked, looking back at Astarion. 

His gaze was trained on the sunlight beginning to peak over the hills. He nodded absently, allowing you to take his hand in yours as the two of you began strolling down the road. 

His fingers were tense as they interlaced with yours. You could tell his body was priming itself to flee at the first sign of discomfort. It was knee-jerk survivalist behavior. You knew it would subside after today, which is why you remained a silent, comforting anchor of support by his side. 

As you continued to walk, the two of you took in the comforting signs of life around you. The smell of fresh bread baking in someone’s oven. The bleating of a family’s goat. The quiet clucking of hens in their coop. The laundry hung out to dry. You watched as Astarion took it all in, his eyes wide with wonder at being able to see this side of living once again. He hadn’t been able to witness it since the tadpoles in your brains had been destroyed. 

By the time the sun had fully risen above the horizon, you and Astarion had made it out of the little town. You were walking along a well-trod path through the hillside when the morning light swept across your skin. You felt Astarion flinch at the sensation, his fingers squeezing yours in a vice-like grip. You paused your walking, turning to face him instead. 

He was gorgeous, half of his face limned in the gentle warmth of the sun. His eyes filled with such hope and happiness it threatened to rend your heart in two. You watched as he looked at you and then down at his hands, flipping them over, studying them in the light. Noting how they didn’t burn or blister. 

“See? It’s real. You’re cured,” you whispered, smiling up at him. His blue eyes met yours. 

“A whole lifetime of this,” he murmured, returning your grin. “Of you. Of the sun. Of living,” he emphasized, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. It was beating like mad beneath your palm. 

“Here’s to all of it then, darling,” you replied before capturing his lips with yours.

***

TAGLIST: @call-me-nyxx, @tenderlyuniquepatrol, @arioneway, @twistedcutie3, @bloopthebat, @my-bunny-prince, @starlight-ipomoea, @iceice-baeby, @moonmaiden1996, @dark-star-exe, @campfull-of-weirdos, @yokaimoon, @im-just-a-simp-le-whore

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[messiahzzz]

i’d briefly like to talk about the “it was fine” dialogue option that happens the morning after gale’s Last Night Alive scene in act ii and about the fandom's general reaction to it.

gale is a character who evidently enjoys the occasional teasing. taking the piss out of your partner every once in a while can certainly be a way of showing affection. however, it is important to consider the context of the situation: what is at stake for him and his current emotional state, as well as what exactly had transpired between the two of them prior to said conversation.

gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

after he and tav had spent the night together and confessed their love to each other, gale is once again showing himself utterly vulnerable and is carefully asking them for reassurance.

gale: [..] i hope that night meant as much to you as it did to me.

gale: but you - you led me away from the edge.

gale: without your words, your touch... i fear i would have sought purpose and solace in that void. you reminded me what living can feel like.

he wants to check in with them, after both of them have shared something tender and very intimate, something he might even consider life-altering.

gale: we didn't just make love. we bonded, body and soul. i got lost in you.

it’s not even about gale “not being able to read social cues” and “not recognizing the fact that it was meant in jest.” in fact, i’d argue it is a rather tone-deaf, inconsiderate response and just genuinely a REALLY BAD TIME to joke at your partner's expense when they are actively baring their feelings to you and are asking you for reassurance.

i have seen people write off his reaction as “unwarranted” or “overtly dramatic” but in my humble opinion, it is pretty understandable given the nature of their conversation and what he is asking of them. it's also sad how there seems to be a general pattern of gale's emotions and boundaries getting played off as a joke, while other companions get shown the courtesy of thorough analysis/understanding. he is proud of his skill as a lover and the fact that he was able to bring them pleasure, yet his inquiry is less about him wanting tav to stroke his ego and more about him, once again, asking if you indeed share the same feelings for each other… after the emotional high has now passed.

gale has an ever-present need for clarity in his relationships, very likely due to the fact that this was something he couldn’t request of mystra. he might appear more sensitive in that regard compared to the other companions. he doesn’t want to take himself too seriously, but this still often clashes with his general feeling of inadequacy. where he is able to take criticism as long as it isn’t related to his performance, overall prowess and usefulness.

yes, his response is passive-aggressive and yes, he IS obviously hurt by what tav said. yet merely repeating “it was fine” in response to a heartfelt, genuine question could’ve as well been interpreted in that manner. if tav does clarify that they have only been joking, he apologizes to them instead. otherwise his dialogue remains the same, albeit said in a more embarrassed & awkward tone.

gale is a character who is dealing with deep-rooted self-worth issues and yet that doesn’t mean that he wants to be handled with kid gloves, far from it. he craves a relationship in which his emotional needs are recognized, respected and cared for, where he can be unabashedly open and vulnerable without facing ridicule nor pity for it. and he is more than willing to give the same in return.

also y’know — there is a time and a place.

#“briefly” they said (sorry can't shut up once i've started. you'll have to bear with me) #this has been bothering me for a while now #by all means roast your wizard to your hearts content #but maybe opt for his shortcomings that aren’t genuinely hurtful/rooted in his self-hatred #that only serve to further reinforce his belief that he is not worthy enough #when he is still very much dealing with the inevitability of his own untimely death and sacrifice #today’s lesson in empathy lmao #aka me once again getting emotionally invested in tragic pixel men #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #datamined dialogue