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seospicybin · 11 months ago

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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III / Final.

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

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mister0ctopus · 4 months ago

Text

Server Room (6)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.5K

a/n: drama and revelations incoming! thank you for waiting, my dearest friends! please be kind to this chapter, I swear the next one is coming VERY soon :)

as always, I love hearing your thoughts, theories, unhinged reactions, whatever lol. I love you all!!! Y’all are the bestest!!! 💜

🐙 Masterlist / Thoughts?Asks?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

This is the ultimate middle finger to your father.

It’s right there in your inbox, glaring at you—a promotion confirmation email.

Your father, the man who was never present in your life. The one you once craved validation from as a child. That craving eventually twisted into repressed anger, then dulled into apathy.

But emotions aren’t linear.

They move like waves, anxiety washing over you one moment, grief pulling you under the next, mourning a man you never even had a relationship with.

Shame he's dead now (may he rest in peace), because there’s no one left to shove this achievement in the face of.

But why does it feel like you've just swapped one kind of emptiness for another?

Maybe it's because, despite everything—the resentment, the bitterness, the years of proving him wrong—a part of you still wanted him to see this.

And now that he's gone, there's no one left to witness it.

You sigh as your thoughts shift to something else.

The cabin trip.

It's been a week since that interesting trip.

There's still that tension between you and Jungkook, something unspoken, but lingering. You haven't seen him in days. Either you're too busy, or he's avoiding you, because when you grabbed lunch with the group yesterday, he didn't show.

Busy, Yoongi said.

"Did you know that zoning out can mimic a light form of sleep? It gives your brain a mini recharge."

"Huh?" You blink and turn to see Min Yoongi perched on your desk, quietly chuckling to himself.

Speaking of the devil...

"What random trivia are you spouting now, Yoongi?"

"I've been calling you but you're zoning out again," he says, flicking your forehead. "What are you thinking about? And don't say work, I know your face when it's non-work thoughts."

"Oh? And what does that face look like?”

"Like you have feelings."

"I do have feelings."

"Yeah, sure. We call it rage."

“It’s called RBF, Yoongi,” you deadpan. “You should know. No one RBFs harder than you.”

"Hey! What are you talking about? That was a long time ago. I'm soft now." Yoongi grins smugly, arms crossed like he’s daring you to argue.

You squint at him, tilting your head. "You do look soft today… I wonder why." Your eyes scan him as you try to pinpoint what makes him seem extra soft and sweet today.

Yoongi just watches you, his grin widening, like the answer is right in front of your face.

"Oh! It’s your shirt! What do they call it? Boyfriend look? You look so boyfriend today!" you exclaim, pointing at him. "Yellow really suits you! But I already told you that!"

You had mentioned it once—casually, in passing—not expecting him to care. But, surprisingly, he’d started wearing more pastels, especially blues and yellows, instead of his usual blacks and whites.

Yoongi smirks, brushing the tip of his nose. "Yup, that’s me."

"Yup! Soft and squishy, like milk bread. Look at this—" You reach up and squish his cheeks, fingers digging in while he tries to dodge.

"Yah—!" He flails, bumping his elbow on the divider with a thud.

"Ow!" he whispered through a pained breath, and the two of you stifled your snickers, struggling to keep quiet in the office.

Then, like a shadow peeling away from the wall, Jungkook appears. Sharp features set like stone, gaze locked on Yoongi.

“We've been waiting for you in the conference room, we couldn’t start without you." he says, voice cool, calculated, and without so much as a flicker of acknowledgement toward you, he's gone.

The air stills but Yoongi was quick to his feet.

"Oh, shit, yeah." Yoongi jumps. "Weekly team meeting." He shrugs before following Jungkook.

Confirmed: Jungkook is avoiding you.

So... which is it going to be?

Are you going to ask the question “why”?

Or is Yoongi right again?

"Like you have feelings."

Yes. You do. Because apparently, being ignored after being fingered kind of stings.

News of your promotion spread like wildfire within your group, and Taehyung wasted no time organizing a "quick" celebration to toast to your well-deserved success at Dino's.

So right after work, everyone gathered in the familiar bar.

"Where's Jungkook?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"He said he’s got something lined up."

"Bullshit. More important than this celebration?" Allie quipped.

"Yeah, he said he couldn't move it ." Taehyung answered.

"Move what?" Jimin pressed, this time directing his question more toward Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know, he didn't tell me exactly. Something about an art exhibit.”

"Art exhibit? Man of culture. By himself?" Taehyung muttered as you all headed out of the building and started walking.

"Nah, I think it was with someone," Yoongi said casually, but Taehyung’s head snapped to him.

"Wait, like a date?!" Allie covered her mouth in mock shock.

"I don't know," Yoongi drawled, clearly tired of the interrogation. "He didn’t tell me, okay? All he said was it was hard to get tickets for that– not a ticket, so I assumed he's not alone."

"Ohhh... okay," Allie hummed dramatically, dragging out the words. "I thought he was avoiding YN."

Taehyung smirked. "Yeah... actually, that’s what I thought too."

"What? Why?" you shot back, already regretting engaging.

"I mean..." Taehyung shrugged. "He was acting a little different toward you after the cabin trip. We knew at first, he was a little shy around you, then he warmed up. But now he's straight-up dipping on us after I teased you with Yoongi."

"Taehyung, jeez! Love your theories. How do you come up with this stuff?" You shook your head, nearly laughing.

"I have eyes." He pointed to them dramatically. "And hear me out, okay? I swore you and Yoongi would eventually hook up or, I don’t know, just get together at some point. It was only a matter of time!" His voice pitched higher when you rolled your eyes.

"Bro," you groaned, shaking your head.

"I mean, why not?" Taehyung pressed. "You’ve been friends forever, you're both single—"

"You and Allie are both single. Jimin’s single. Why don’t you all date each other?" you shot back.

"Come on, you know what I mean! You and Yoongi go waaaay back," Taehyung pressed. "You like older men. Yoongi is older. And Yoongi likes… well, actually, I have no clue what his type is. But one thing I do know?" He pointed at you. "He’s not warm and soft with everyone��but with you? He is."

Yoongi, who had been quietly sipping his drink beside you, finally let out a low chuckle. You turned to give him and Taehyung a deeply unimpressed look before elbowing Yoongi. "You could jump in and shut this down, you know."

"Nah, I’m enjoying this," Yoongi smirked.

"People can have purely platonic relationships despite the years, you know?" You rolled your eyes, exasperated.

"I could date you, Allie," Jimin chimed in with a charming grin. "But we all know you like tall guys… and sadly, all I’ve got going for me is a great ass."

Allie paused, and shamelessly checked him out. “Hmm… fair point.”

"Alright, enough about Jimin’s ass," Taehyung snickered before turning back to you. "Anyway, I swear I thought—thought—Jungkook had a little crush on you. Just a gut feeling." He shrugged before smirking. "Though I’m not sure if he’s your type… I do know you like older men. Probably those daddy issues at work."

Yoongi nearly choked on his laugh, coughing into his sleeve. "Wow."

"I know how much it matters to you... I know that you got daddy issues," Taehyung sang the now-familiar song by The Neighbourhood with a grin, dragging out the lyrics like he always did whenever this topic came up.

"Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Kim." you muttered. The waiter arrived with your orders, and you were relieved when the conversation finally shifted to your promotion and what it entails, instead of your… issues.

The week flew by faster than you expected. Starting Monday, you’ll be stepping into your new role, and it involves traveling to client sites whenever they expand or open new branches. It’s exciting... and exhausting just thinking about it.

Which means less regular office hours, less desk chats with your friends. Your schedule will now revolve around client demands, and while that’s a win for your career, it’s kind of a loss for your social life.

So you made sure to clear your Saturday night for the company’s annual awards event—a night that’s less about trophies and more about mingling with stakeholders, VIP clients, and colleagues over cocktails and dancing. If there’s one thing your company excels at, it’s throwing a party. People go all out, dressing to the nines like it’s the Met Gala—and honestly, the break from the usual 9-to-5 grind is refreshing.

“Okay, which one do you think?” Allie asked during your coffee break in the pantry, shoving her phone in your face. Two mirror selfies—one in a sleek black gown, the other in a white halter dress—stared back at you. “Which one is better? Which one’s giving more classy old Hollywood vibes?”

“Hmm…” you tapped your chin. “Both are stunning, but the white one? That one pops against your skin tone. Very Marilyn Monroe on the red carpet.”

“Oh my God, yes! I was thinking that too!” Allie beamed. “Ok, sold! White it is!”

“You got your outfit sorted?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“Yeah, kinda. I’m stuck between this emerald green dress with red lips, or this black velvet dress I’ve only worn once.” You shrugged. “I’ll try them on later and send you pics to pick.”

“Yesss! Fashion show in your apartment, I can’t wait!” Allie wiggled her brows excitedly.

“Oh gosh,” she groaned, glancing at her phone. “I’ve got a Zoom meeting in, like, two minutes.” She shot you a kissy face before speed-walking back to her desk.

You chuckled, watching her go.

Yeah… you were going to miss them.

You stand by the water dispenser, zoning out as your water bottle slowly fills. The faint hum of the refrigerator fades into the background, your mind drifting somewhere far away.

Then footsteps pull you back to the present. Someone’s entered the pantry, but you don’t bother turning around. You keep your eyes locked on the water bottle, watching the steady stream.

“Oh my God, you’re so funny! I can’t believe you don’t play golf! I feel so silly asking you to join us!”

A sweet, high-pitched voice cuts through the quiet pantry.

“Yeah?” A low chuckle follows. A familiar one. “No, I don’t.”

You grit your teeth.

Jungkook.

“You should let me teach you,” the girl coos. “I’m a great teacher.”

“I bet you are. I’ll check my schedule and let you know.” His voice is so casual, so maddeningly smooth, you roll your eyes right then and there.

Ugh.

You stare at your water bottle, still filling, taking its sweet time like it’s savoring your misery. You glare at the bubbling stream like, WOW, WATER. AMAZING.

Almost full... just a little more…

When your water bottle finally fills, you grab it quickly and turn to leave.

Almost made it. Almost.

“YN! Oh hi!”

You stop dead.

“Congrats on your promotion! Well deserved!” Ria from Marketing beams brightly.

“Oh. Thank you! Appreciate it!” you reply, smiling politely.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you now. He’s leaning against the counter, one hand lazily gripping his coffee cup, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’s been wearing since the cabin.

But his gaze drags down your frame, slow, deliberate, before flicking back up to your face.

Worse?

He looks so damn good in his gray shirt, sleeves pushed up showing his tattoos. A silver chain resting at his collarbone, glinting obnoxiously.

And his hair? Pushed back.

Your pulse jumps, and before you can think better of it, you flash him an equally fake smile.

“Well... gotta go! Meetings!”

You spin on your heel, your heels clicking sharply down the hallway, each step punctuated with purpose, and you swear you can still feel his eyes on you.

What’s his deal? Seriously. It's really starting to bother you.

The black velvet dress won.

Allie’s excitement was instant when you sent her the dress options, but the shrieking voice note she sent after seeing the black one? Iconic.

��OH MY GODDDD! THAT’S THE ONE! YOU LOOK INSANE—LIKE, WHO EVEN ARE YOU?”

And honestly? She wasn’t wrong.

The black velvet dress hugged your curves perfectly, its sleek straps framing your shoulders and revealing just enough skin to feel sultry yet refined.

Your hair fell in soft waves, paired with your favorite black stilettos, a smoky eye, and a bold red lip. It's a perfect balance of sexy and classy.

There’s no way you’re not showing up tonight. Your gorgeous friends are going to eat it up—no doubt about that.

You can’t wait to soak up their energy. You need it to carry you through the many jet lags that’ll inevitably drain you in the days ahead.

The moment you stepped into the grand hotel ballroom, your eyes immediately landed on Jimin and Taehyung. They stood near the corner, chatting with a small group. Jimin, effortlessly ethereal in an all-white suit, and Taehyung, impossibly dapper in a dark green suit only he could pull off.

Noticing you, they smiled warmly and waved. You returned the gesture, motioning toward your assigned table before weaving through the bustling crowd.

Impressive.

The event felt grand. Crystal chandeliers glowed above, and the room buzzed with lively chatter. Waiters in sharp uniforms moved smoothly between tables, serving cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Your company had clearly spared no expense, and judging by the laughter and clinking glasses, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

You found your table easily enough—a circle of familiar faces from your department. Four men occupied the seats, and their collective glance flicked your way the moment you approached. A quick once-over, followed by polite nods. Not exactly welcoming, but not hostile either. Just... guarded.

You were used to it by now. Ever since your promotion to Senior Manager, there has been an undeniable tension. You were younger than all of them, but you'd earned the role. From your first day, you'd outperformed expectations, closing deal after deal and driving major revenue growth. Your promotion had been inevitable, yet still a bitter pill for some. While they remained professional, you could sense the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

"You look good, YN," Peter chimed in, one of the younger members of the team. Of all your teammates, he's been the most friendly. His voice carried a lightness that cut through the awkward air.

"Thanks, Peter. You don't look so bad yourself," you replied, offering him a small but genuine smile.

"Oh, thanks! Feels nice seeing everyone all dolled up," he added with a grin. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but mirror it.

"Yeah, I know! Everyone looks amazing tonight." You turned to Mr. Hoang, one of the quieter and older members of the team. "I love your suit, Mr. Hoang."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Oh... thanks," he said, a bit stiffly. "My wife picked it out for me."

"She has good taste. You look great," you replied warmly. His expression softened, and you knew your effort hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Socially, you wanted to be closer to your team.

Professionally and strategically, you knew it was important to be on good terms with everyone. Tonight felt like a chance to break some of that tension, even if just a little.

The microphone at the front crackled, pulling your attention to the stage as the host greeted everyone.

You scanned the room, searching for your friends. Since you were from different departments, you were all scattered across the venue, but you hoped to find them soon. With the host still presenting something on the screen, you decided to slip away to the washroom.

As you weaved through the crowd, your steps faltered.

Yoongi and Jungkook were walking toward you.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

It was offensive how good they looked.

Yoongi was effortlessly refined in a tailored gray suit, his hair brushed neatly, exuding his usual air of quiet confidence.

But Jungkook…

…was a goddamn problem.

Dressed in an all-black suit that fit him like sin, his dark hair fell in a perfect mess. And then, as if the devil himself had crafted him, there was the lip ring, gleaming under the ballroom lights, a stark rebellion against his otherwise pristine look.

What the fuck?

How is this legal?

He looked like trouble wrapped in temptation, and it was unfair how someone could look like that.

“Damn, YN, you clean up well,” Yoongi teased, stopping in front of you.

You blinked yourself back to reality, clearing your throat. “Well, you don’t look bad yourself, Yoongi. I barely recognized you.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, said nothing.

No. He just looked.

A slow, deliberate once-over—eyes dragging down your body like he was memorizing every detail—before finally, finally meeting your gaze again.

And then a tight-lipped smile. That’s it. No words. No reaction. Just that.

Wow. Okay???

You forced a polite smile in return, barely masking the fluster creeping up your spine. You turned back to Yoongi, pretending you weren’t internally combusting, when—

“Miss YLN! Great to see you. I’ve been meaning to catch up now that I’ve heard of your promotion! Well deserved! I’ve got a proposal I’d love to run by you.”

You turned to see an important client, beaming at you expectantly.

“Oh! Hi, Mr. Yamamoto! Yes, let’s grab some drinks and chat,” you replied smoothly, flashing him your best professional smile.

And with that, you excused yourself from the two gentlemen before tearing yourself away, resisting the overwhelming urge to glance back.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Seriously.

Hours of being dragged from one conversation to another with important clients and VPs had you trapped in endless small talk. Ironic, considering you worked in sales. Socializing felt exhausting, but you liked knowing their plans and goals while sipping cocktails. You liked knowing your cards.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly. As expected, everyone was looking for you.

Allie: yn we've been looking for you, are you seriously working rn? Jimin: we’re here at the bar now. Taehyung is already tipsy Taehyung: im not. jungkook made me try sangria and its seriously so good.

The mention of Jungkook’s name made your spine straighten.

Seriously, what was Jungkook’s deal?

Was he weirded out by the cabin hookup?

Bothered that Yoongi saw?

Or maybe it was when Taehyung started teasing you with Yoongi?

Or all of the above?

You hated guessing games. You never had time to overthink stuff like this, you didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for these mind games. Whatever game Jungkook was playing now, it was frustrating, and awkward.

But fuck, all you can think about is how good he felt.

How his body pressed against yours. How his touch burned your skin.

It’s crazy how you’ve never wanted anyone like this.

Like a craving.

Something darker and primal, demanding more, demanding everything.

You needed air.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the balcony you’d been eyeing all evening.

The crisp night air kissed your face, and you drew in a deep breath. Freedom. Solitude. You stepped into the corner for privacy—until a shadow shifted.

You froze. Too late.

Peter's smile stretched lazily when he recognized you.

Your posture softened, but you were still guarded.

"Oh hey," he said, voice light and easy. "Didn’t know you’d come here."

"Hey," you greeted, still caught off guard. He seemed drunk, but harmless—cheeks flushed pink from the drinks, tie loosened, swaying slightly.

"You okay?" you asked, more out of politeness than concern.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled. "Just needed some air. Long night, huh?"

"Yeah, I better get back," you smiled, turning back toward the party.

"Bet it's tiring," Peter added, voice quieter now. When you glanced back, his smile had thinned, and his eyes lingered on you a little too long.

"What do you mean?" you asked..

"You’re always working your ass off," he muttered, stepping closer. "Don’t know how you do it."

He reeked of alcohol, but something in his tone made you pause.

“We all work hard,” you said cautiously. “It’s a tough job.”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah? I wonder what other jobs you’re willing to do.”

Your stomach turned. Oh, fuck no. You were not doing this.

Snickering, he inched closer, his breath hot and sour with liquor.

You weren’t about to entertain this. Turning away, you took a step back toward the party.

"You’ve been kissing clients' asses all evening. Bet that’s hard for someone so... stuck up," he sneered, voice darker now.

"I suggest you stop coming near me. You’re drunk," you warned firmly, still walking.

His hand shot out, clamping around your wrist. His grip was tight, fingers biting into your skin.

"You’re brave to act all high and mighty when you know your friends will protect you. Do you fuck them? Is that why they’re willing to risk their jobs for you? Maybe that’s why they all stick around, yeah, hoping they’ll get a turn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You yanked your arm, but his grip tightened.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He slurred.

Your patience snapped. “I don’t,” you bit out. “You gonna tell me, or are you just gonna keep wasting my time?”

His lip curled. "Such a stuck-up bitch. You walk around acting untouchable, as if you’re better than everyone. No wonder you piss everyone off. Think Yoongi’s your knight in shining armor? Bet you spread your legs for him like the desperate little tease you are. Yeah, bet he pounded you so good he didn’t care about almost getting fired."

"For the last time, I don’t know what you're talking about. Let. Me. Go," you spat, wrenching your arm hard. His grip tightened painfully, and your pulse spiked. His hot breath hit your face, and you realized how dim and isolated the balcony was. Panic gripped you. He was stronger, faster, and clearly unstable.

"I think she said get the fuck off her."

The voice sliced through the tension like a heavy blade. Both you and Peter snapped toward the sound.

Jungkook.

You couldn't see his face. His solid frame was backlit by the grand hotel lights—but you knew that voice.

Firm. Clear. Furious.

In three strides, Jungkook closed the distance. One hand clamped around your arm—Peter’s grip still locked tight—and Jungkook’s other hand shoved Peter so hard he staggered back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Peter snarled, but Jungkook didn’t even look at him. Without a word, Jungkook yanked you behind him, placing his body like a wall between you and Peter.

"Touch her again," Jungkook bit out, "and you won’t see the fucking sun tomorrow."

You swore the entire world tilted when Jungkook finally turned his head, pinning Peter with a stare so ice-cold it could burn.

"You want to try me? He chuckled, amusement lacing his words. "Please, go ahead." His voice was too calm, too controlled. The kind that comes before a storm.

Peter swallowed hard. His eyes darted to you, then back to Jungkook, and whatever stupidity had driven him to this point finally died.

Smart choice.

Everything blurred after that. One second, Jungkook was throwing more venom-laced words at Peter, and the next, his fingers were locked around your wrist, dragging you away.

You barely registered the cold night air as he led you outside. The ground beneath you was uneven, the gravel crunched beneath your heels as you struggled to keep up with his long, and urgent strides.

"Jungkook—wait," you stammered, breathless.

He didn’t stop. His grip on your wrist stayed firm, fingers locked.

"Stop, I said STOP!" You yanked your hand free, stumbling back a step. Jungkook halted in his tracks, turning sharply, his eyes startled and almost guilty.

For a moment, he just stared. His expression was softer than before — gone was the sharp anger he'd shown with Peter.

Now, his eyes flickered with something else.

Concern? Hesitation?

His mouth opened like he was about to speak, but he closed it just as fast.

“What the hell was Peter talking about?” you pressed, voice rising. “Yoongi? Almost getting fired? Do you know something? Tell me!”

Frustration bubbled inside you. You hated feeling like a fool when everyone else seemed to know something you didn’t.

“That guy… Peter,” Jungkook muttered, “he’s not someone you should trust, obviously, I should’ve warned you, just didn’t know how. He was friends with… well, the guy Yoongi had problems with.”

You shot him an exasperated look, one hand flung out in a gesture for him to continue.

His voice lowered, cautious. “They had some kind of argument, and things escalated. The guy got fired, and Yoongi got suspended for it.”

“Okay? I don't understand. What does that have to do with me?”

Jungkook shifted uneasily. “Yoongi... I think Yoongi should tell you. It should come from him.”

“What difference does it make?” you snapped. “He obviously told you, and you know, so just—god, this is so frustrating.” You ran a hand through your hair, heart hammering.

“He didn’t,” Jungkook admitted quietly. “He didn’t tell me... I just figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Your voice rose again, and a few heads turned. Irritated, you grabbed Jungkook’s arm and pulled him behind a tree for some privacy. “What the hell is going on?” you demanded, voice low but now shaky. “Tell me what you know, for Christ’s sake.”

Jungkook exhaled deeply, dragging a hand through his hair.

"He caught that guy—the one who got fired—with deepfake videos of you on his computer."

Your breath hitched. You knew nothing about this. Who else knew? Did everyone know except you?

"The guy’s computer crashed, and when Yoongi fixed it, he found folders, pictures of you. Nothing explicit, just random shots from the office…but it was creepy enough that Yoongi reported him right away." He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. "Things… got heated when Yoongi confronted him."

“When did this happen?” you asked, your voice quieter now. Your heart pounded so loudly you could barely hear yourself speak.

“Right before I started,” Jungkook said, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His brows pulled together, eyes scanning yours carefully. “Remember when Yoongi said he was taking PTO? The one where he went on a fishing trip with Jin?"

You nodded. Of course you remember that.

"It wasn’t a vacation…" He continued, his voice low and softer now. "He was suspended. He, uh, punched the guy. People saw. Management had no choice.”

So what, I’m the only idiot who didn’t know?” Your voice shook in anger, humiliation, disgust. “Everyone else knew? And I’ve just been walking around like some clueless dumbass while they all pitied…hated me behind my back?”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, shaking quickly, almost desperately. His teeth sank into his lower lip like he was physically trying to stop more words—more confessions, more revelations—from slipping out. “No. I don’t think a lot of people know. Yoongi told no one.”

“Then how did you find out?” you pressed, your voice firm.

A beat of silence.

“I hacked the HR files,” Jungkook muttered, almost sheepish.

Your hands curled into fists.

You needed to talk to Yoongi.

Now.

Because what the fuck?

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 3 months ago

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Judex, Judicum, Infantem - Chapter 4

(Eventual)Reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist | my masterlist

gif by me (Reminder if you repost my gifs and don't properly credit me, I will block you and report your blog. It happened with the gif I made for the last chapter and I'm not happy.)

summary: You have your first doctors appointment to check up on the baby, which prompts you and Matt to discuss how life will look for the two of you going forward.

warnings: AFAB Reader. No use of Y/N. Mention of pregnancy, doctor visit and blood work. Brief mention of vomiting.

w/c: 3,248

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on Tumblr to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platforms I currently post on are Tumblr and AO3. Thanks!*

The jelly was cold on your skin and you tried not to crawl up the table as the ultrasound technician spread it around your midsection with the wand. She clearly lied to you when she said the bottle had been sitting in a warmer all morning. You also weren’t expecting it to smell, the slight tang to the goo hovered in the air and made you want to gag. You could only imagine how strong it must be for poor Matt sitting beside you.

It seemed like as soon as you discovered you were pregnant, every stereotypical symptom kicked in with a fury. Everything smelled atrocious and made you want to retch, you regularly had a dull headache, you’d spent most mornings hunched over the toilet, and your boobs barely fit in your bras and were so sore.

“Okay, so let me tell you what I’m looking at,” the sweet technician spoke with a demeanor far too cheery for this time of the morning, turning the screen towards you, “All this white area is your uterus, and this little dark spot is your baby! Right up here is the head…”

You took her word for it. To you it looked just like an indistinguishable blob.

Matt must have sensed your skepticism that you were actually looking at your baby, because his hand gave yours a little reassuring squeeze.

“How does everything look?” Matt asked

“Everything is looking perfectly healthy. Based on the size, I’d say you’re at about 8 or 9 weeks along already. Once the doctor takes a look and gets your blood results back, she’ll be able to give you a more accurate prediction on your progress and your due date.”

You grimaced, arm still sore from the blood draw they had to give you earlier. You were not looking forward to the amount of doctor’s visits, poking and prodding to your body, and general medical discomfort that would be in your future for the next 8 months. Not to mention the menacing looking wand you knew was about to get shoved up your hoo-ha.

“Okay, so let’s take a listen” she continued, still moving the device around your belly.

She pressed a button on the machine and instantly a sound came out, a kind of rhythmic whoosh whooshing that would have made a great beat if you were dancing in a nightclub.

“Is that the heartbeat?” Matt asked

“Sort of. It’s a common misconception, but the baby’s heart is not anywhere near formed this early. We call it fetal activity, but most of the noise is caused by all the tissue and such that will eventually form into a heart. But the fact that we can hear it so clearly is really good.”

Matt smiled, giving your hand a few strokes with his thumb as he listened. You were happy there was something for Matt to take in from this appointment, not able to see the little grey blob on the screen that was apparently your growing baby.

“It’s strong.”

“Yes, all is sounding good.” she confirmed

You hoped between the amount of information being thrown your way today and all your pregnancy symptoms, that Matt wasn’t tuning into how you were really feeling too much. Sure, you were listening when the doctor came in and gave you the run down of what to expect at the next few appointments, and you smiled as every nurse and phlebotomist came in to congratulate you and take yet another vital of yours. But if you thought about it too long, you were feeling a little numb. So overwhelmed by all of it and still, quite frankly, a little in shock that in just a few months, you would be a mother and your world would change.

It didn’t help that you’d also been sleeping poorly, pregnancy causing night time acid reflux to plague you. Matt had begun staying over a few nights a that week, helping you through your morning sickness like the saint he was. Though you knew it had to be extra unpleasant to deal with with his heightened sense of smell.

Before he crawled into bed beside you, he was out every night since you’d told him the news prowling the city in his suit. Not hunting down muggers and gang leaders as he usually did, but out seeking any hint of information to Frank’s whereabouts. You admired his good heart. The notion that Frank would ever be back in you or your child’s life was something you’d let go of the minute you stepped into that empty warehouse office. But Matt was too decent, too good hearted. He wanted to at least give Frank the opportunity to know. You wondered how much longer he would try to find him until he too gave up.

“Once you get dressed, you can head out into the lobby and they’ll have a print out of the ultrasound for you. And we’ll see you at your next appointment.”

“Thank you.” you replied

“You know, if you’re interested, there are services— start ups and whatnot that can do a 3D print of your ultrasound. It’s not something we offer here, but they’ve dropped off brochures. It’s pricey so you might want to wait until baby is a bit bigger, but it might be a nice way for your husband to ‘see’ the baby too.”

You winced at the way she so casually threw around the word husband, clearly not having read your paperwork closely. All the excitement of getting to this appointment had been a welcome distraction from discussing what the two of you would be moving forward. Though Matt was basically treating you like a serious relationship at this point, daily good morning texts and sexless sleepovers and all, you weren’t sure where he stood on things. Not that you were sure where you stood on things either.

If Matt sensed the way your heart stopped at the suggestion the two of you were married, he didn’t give any hint outwardly. Instead his face was lit up, pleased grin spreading across his face as his eyebrows rose at the suggestion of a 3D scan.

There were still plenty of months until the baby arrived and it felt already like there was far too much to do in the mean time. Your studio in Chelsea was completely unsuitable to raise a baby in, so you knew you needed to move. Then there was the matter of telling every one in your lives the news. You weren’t really showing yet, but felt beyond bloated and it was starting to become difficult to zip your pants. How much longer could you keep the secret from coworkers and friends?

Additionally, you never realized how many things a baby needs until you’d begun to research. A registry would need to be made and you were sure Colleen would want to throw you a shower once she heard the news. Plus setting up a nursery where ever you’d be moving. Taking prenatal classes. Finding a pediatrician. The list went on and on and made your head spin.

“Sweetheart?” Matt interrupted your dizzying spiral of thoughts as you led him down the sidewalk and away from the doctor’s office

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you were still feeling up to brunch? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just tired. But brunch sounds good. I’m starving.”

“Okay. Two more blocks.”

“Hopefully the scent of shitty diner coffee doesn’t make me gag. God, I don’t know how you live like this, I feel like I can smell everything.”

Matt’s shoulders shook as he chuckled.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

The tiny diner situated on 44th and 11th buzzed as you sat in a booth by the window. The chatter of it’s patrons nearly drowned out by the whir of an espresso machine and the sound of a grill firing from behind the little pass through. It was a familiar spot, one Matt had taken you to once after waking up in his bed. The vinyl booth squeaked anytime you moved even a little and the brown plastic table painted to look like wood was sticky under your hands from years of poor cleaning of spills of syrup, coffee, and god knows what else.

“I don’t know about you, but I really liked her suggestion of getting a 3D print of the ultrasound. So I can ‘see’ the baby too.” Matt commented as he sipped on his latte

“Yeah that would be really nice. But hey, I’m glad you got to hear the baby at least today. Unless that’s something you can already hear without the machine?”

“A little, I think. I can definitely tell there’s more activity going on there, though it could also just be indigestion.” he gestured towards your stomach with a teasing grin

Matt’s entire demeanor had been particularly carefree these days, his flirtatious behavior extra charged by the joy of his impending fatherhood. A stark contrast to how you were currently feeling; a nervous wreck about the future and avoiding any celebratory moods until more things were worked out.

Still, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and smile at his comment, both of you knowing pregnancy and your digestive system were not currently friends at the moment. Not that you were helping things either with the enormous stack of pancakes in front of you.

“But I know it’s not.” he reassured “I can tell it’s just the baby because you smell pregnant.”

“Excuse me? Did you just say I smell pregnant?”

“Yeah.” Matt answered casually, as if he had just mentioned a commonly known fact like how geese fly in a v-shape or nobody wears white after Labor Day.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

The light huff of air he let out through his nose in a quiet snort annoyed you as you waited for him to explain this “blind guy with heightened sense of smell” quirk.

“Pregnant people just smell different. I don’t know how to describe it. If they’re early enough along that I can’t hear the baby, I usually know just by how they smell. Once nearly got tossed out of a courtroom cause I let slip the witness was pregnant before she even knew it.”

You tugged at your sleeves, suddenly very self conscious that Matt could detect whatever this mystical pregnant odor was and worried that it was anything but pleasant.

“You can smell me?! It’s bad enough you can smell my morning sickness—”

Matt reached across the table, taking your hand in his in reassurance.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Your body is changing rapidly sweetheart; hormones and all that. It’s not bad, I promise.”

“You’re gonna be an expert at knowing when the baby needs changed.”

“Hopefully it won’t smell as bad as Funfetti pancakes.”

“Excuse me Mr. Murdock, are you making fun of a pregnant woman’s cravings?!” you teased, taking an exaggeratedly large bite of the very meal he was condemning.

“No, no sweetheart,” he replied through a hearty chuckle at your dramatics “I promise. But I have a bad history with Funfetti. The nuns used to make those cakes anytime there was a birthday at the orphanage. One year Mary Sue Poots, she was this girl a few years younger than me with a real annoying laugh, anyway she had too much and threw up in the middle of mass all over the chapel and ever since the smell has always gotten to me.”

“Ew.”

Matt shook his head as you took another bite. But behind his red glasses there was his usual air of mischief and you knew he was holding back some witty remark.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you continued to enjoy your meal. You stared out the large window at the flurry of New York mid-morning passersby, eager to get to work and their days ahead. Yet here you were, frozen in a content moment sitting across from Matt, despite all the chaos in your heart. Swirling around the straw of your orange juice, you couldn’t help but wonder more about all the things you’d yet to learn about Matt. Hints of a less than perfect past occasionally slipped through between his sarcastic phrases and kind gestures.

Matt was slow to open up, but at least he was letting you in at all. Unlike Frank. Anytime you had tried to get into that huge head of his, it was like pushing a thousand pound boulder up a hill using only a singular uncooked spaghetti noodle for leverage and a dream.

“Do you like living in Hell’s Kitchen?” you asked, eager to know if he chose to stay close to where he grew up out of comfort or routine.

“Yeah. Anytime I’ve moved away, it’s always like a part of me is missing. Why?”

“My apartment is a little small for raising a kid. I need to start thinking about a bigger place and I think a change of neighborhoods wouldn’t be bad for me. Raising our child somewhere that’s clearly important to you seems like a good idea. Plus, being close to you will make things easier for co-parenting.”

The easy attitude Matt had been displaying all morning instantly turned cold as he sat up, rigid in his seat across from you. Behind a straight-lined scowl, he ran his tongue along his teeth.

Finally, after a beat he spoke, nervously tapping a finger against his mug.

“Sweetheart, what did you think I meant when I said I was all in?”

“I—”

“I just assumed you’d want to move in with me. My place is plenty big for all three of us.”

Shit. He wasn’t angry. He was hurt.

A pang of sadness cut through your chest as you thought of your reply. He really meant it when he threw around the word family. You hadn’t considered that Matt would want all of that, assuming his reassurance of “all in” was in regards to the baby and not you. Especially not since Frank was always going to be a looming cloud over whatever your relationship would be and your baby’s life.

You pondered his suggestion.

Home. Family.

Could you ever deserve such comforts?

“I would like that. Very much.” you responded softly

Matt relaxed a little bit in his seat and you knew your heartbeat was letting him know that you meant it.

“Good.” his voice was gentle but with a hint of determination to it, “With that settled, when do you want to start telling people? Kirsten and Foggy can tell I’ve been acting weird lately and not my usual weird.”

“We should wait until at least the 12 week mark. It’s what all the blogs say you should wait until cause I guess most of the bad stuff could have happened by then. And if we want, we can learn the gender then too.”

“Yeah. I want to know. Do you?”

“Yes.”

The few bites left of your pancakes had since gone cold, but still you pushed them around your plate with your fork. You still weren’t sure if you were worth the assured devotion Matt was offering you. The diner was far less crowded now, breakfast and brunch crowd thinned out to just a few patrons, allowing you to hear more of the thoughts rattling around in your brain.

“Colleen’s going to flip when I tell her you’re my baby daddy.” you remarked, wanting to ease the sheepishness you felt at still not believing Matt’s certainty.

“She’d flip even more if she knew the whole story.”

There it was; the ever present ghost of Frank wedging himself into all this goodness.

“Yeah.” you agreed

“Just to be prepared, what do you want me to say? When I tell people? I’ll go with whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I mean we can start with most of the truth. It was casual, it happened, we decided to try to make it work.”

Matt nodded, his lawyer brain liking the straightforwardness and simplicity of the story.

“Or you can tell them your pregnant situationship was a whore and between the two of you, you were the less of a mess and decided to stay.”

Matt shook his head, agitated at how you just couldn’t help yourself from making a self disparaging remark.

“Is that what you want me to call you?” he asked, a sharpness to his voice at the mere suggestion

You weren’t sure which descriptor you just threw out he was referring to, but decided on the less offensive one.

“I prefer it to the term baby momma. Feels too 2000s.” you replied

Deflecting with sarcasm. It would be a miracle if your baby ever said a serious phrase between how good both you and Matt were at it.

“You’re gonna move in with me and have my kid, but you’re really that scared of the word girlfriend?”

“I’m not scared of it it just feels… childish. We’re both too old for that.”

A lie. You were scared of that word. But he let it go.

“Well, I can’t call you my partner like the kids do these days. I’m a lawyer. It makes it sound like you’re joining the firm.”

You didn’t know how much body language Matt’s super senses could pick up on, but you were pretty sure he could have heard your eyes roll from at least a half a block away. The satisfied smugness on his face let you know that, yeah, he knew.

“Fine I’m you’re girlfriend, which sounds so stupid and cheesy by the way.”

“Hey, I’m Catholic. Most of us in situations like this just get married right away.”

“Don’t push it.” you scolded

You liked how much Matt was laughing today and that you were the cause of it, always swooning just a little at the way his eyes crinkled anytime he was amused.

“My mom is gonna be thrilled, son of a nun having a bastard child out of wedlock.”

Once again whatever silly rapport you and Matt were building came to a screeching halt.

“Your mom is… alive?”

Matt nodded, and the way he did indicated clearly there was way more to the story than that.

“I wasn’t sure.” you continued “And she’s a nun? Is that why you moved to the orphanage after your dad died? Cause she could raise you where she worked? Or no? Since you said before she wasn’t in your life.”

“Both.”

“What do you mean both?”

“She raised me with all the other nuns. Like all the other children who lived there. And did not tell me she was my mother.”

“Jesus.” you muttered in shock

“Yeah.”

“And now?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m sorry Matt. I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.”

There were plenty of fears and trepidations in your heart about how good you would be at raising another human, but you already loved this baby more than you could ever say and couldn’t imagine putting your child through something like that. A life with you in it but without them knowing but still being right there beside them the whole time.

You already knew Matt was a good man, but his previous statement about not repeating his parent’s mistakes rang loudly in your head, weight added by this revelation about his mom. You knew he was going to be such a good father to this baby.

“Will you want her to meet the baby? And me?” you asked

“Yeah. But we can wait on that.”

As you nodded your head in agreement, Matt flagged down your waitress to pay the bill.

“So, since we both have the rest of the day off, should we get to your place and start packing?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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Tag List: @xxdrixx @a-leg-without-fear @echo-ethe @capswife @xoxabs88xox @allmyn1ghts @laaadygisbooornex3 @ninacotte @uncertified-doc @moth-murdock @danzer8705 @endofthelinegang @buckyssugarchick @hellskitchenswhore @pixviee @themikkapika @bisexualbith @labellapeaky @theoraekenslover @sexyvixen7 @tanyaherondale @marysucks-blog @0callme-mimi @aesthetic0cherryblossom @livewaspsblog @lokifae42 @plutosbearr

#frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #frank castle #daredevil #daredevil born again #fratt #Judex Judicum Infantem #matt x reader #frank x reader #matt x frank x reader #nmcu #mcu #mcu fic #daredevil smut #matt murdock angst #frank castle imagine #charlie cox #jon bernthal

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jedijenkins · 5 months ago

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About the structure of The Librarians: The Next Chapter and the potential Future of the Franchise (from a longtime obsessive fan):

sometimes i genuinely forget that your average person is not knowledgeable about how making television works, and don't really pay attention at all to the behind the scenes activities of the people who make television.

to everyone responding to The Librarians: The Next Chapter trailer with negativity along the lines of "why are there new Librarians" "why is Stone the only one there",

i am actually shocked to realize you guys are unaware of the entire reason the first Librarians show exists in the form it does. But then i realize i'm probably the weird one for knowing all of these specific details but here we go: The only reason Eve, Ezekiel, Jenkins, Cassandra and Jake even EXIST is because of scheduling conflicts. Noah Wyle wanted to come back to star in a spin off of the original movies very badly, but he was currently under contract in the middle of filming the final few seasons of Falling Skies. If you're unaware, when you're under contract to finish a certain amount of filming, you can't just break that contract without serious legal repercussions. Not to mention, Noah wanted to do Falling Skies justice. So the executives behind both projects and Noah came to a scheduling compromise - something that Noah was only able to do because of the pull he, Dean Devlin and John Rogers have, not something most actors can easily swing - to where he could finish his work on Falling Skies while also appearing in The Librarians in the time he wasn't filming for Falling Skies. This meant that Noah would be able to be there for at least a couple episodes for the first few seasons, but not all of them. Naturally, you can't have a show where the ONLY main character, the ONLY Librarian, is gone half the time for the first few seasons. So the obvious and genius solution they came up with? More Librarians.

An ensemble main cast that would be able to hold down the fort and keep the show moving forward when Noah/Flynn wasn't there. And they specifically wrote it in a way to where it made perfect sense character wise for Flynn to be absent, both because of the plot and because of Flynn's trauma and fear of commitment. They made Noah Wyle's inability to be there the whole time an integral part of the plot and themes, and constructed the rest of the show around it.

And then when Falling Skies was finished filming, Noah was able to appear more regularly in s3 and s4 of the show, while still being absent sometimes to maintain the consistency of his character arc. The group and plot was set up to allow it to make sense for him to be able to come and go as needed.

I want you to take a second to digest this information. Your favorite characters and their relationships with each other would never have even existed if Noah Wyle had been completely free at the time the show was being started. We would have no Eve Baird, no Ezekiel Jones, no Jacob Stone, no Jenkins, no Cassandra. It would be just the Flynn Carson show, just like the movies. Flash forward seven or so years, and Dean finally gets the chance to bring the franchise back again - but all the actors from the first show are now, just like Noah was, tied up in contracts and schedules for stuff they are already doing. The person with the most schedule flexibility? Christian Kane, because the other shows he's working on currently are also under Electric Entertainment. All of the actors have confirmed they DO WANT TO RETURN WHEN THEY ARE AVAILABLE. They have told Dean this, they talked about this at the convention panel at ElectricCon, and I even personally talked to John Harlan Kim during the meet and greet about how excited he is to eventually return whenever he can. They will return when they can, and these new characters are perfectly set up to work alongside them smoothly the second they do.

Therefore Jake is the best choice to be the first returning character to bring in the new characters and establish their connection to the Library, because they are new recruits, not replacements. This is a CONTINUATION spin off, not a reboot. The Library is once again expanding it's employee base and becoming even more of a capital-O Organization than it already was in the first show. This makes sense both externally and internally.

Externally, this is exactly what they did when they made the first continuation spin off show based on the movies. They created a new ensemble cast of main characters to form relationships with the previous characters in the franchise, and to hold down the fort when those characters are off screen because their actors are currently busy. Internally, expanding the Library even more is the natural progression of the plot and themes that where being explored in the original show. The entire point of the final season, if not the show, is that it was always a mistake to have only one Librarian, a mistake made out of fear. The natural endgame of the themes of the show was to invite even more people to join the Library - there where even multiple side characters heavily set up to potentially become future Librarians themselves. (Lucy Lyons for example). These new characters are not replacing the old ones, they are holding down the fort so that the old characters have a franchise to come back to in the first place. Because if they had to wait for all the actors to be available again to make the new Librarians show, it wouldn't get made, because the people with the money don't wanna wait when they're greenlighting a show. When you get greenlit on a concept, you make it now or you never make it. This was true when Noah was too busy to be the sole main character of the first show, and it's true now when the actors where too busy in 2022-2023 to all return at once for the new show's first season. And a final but EXTREMELY IMPORTANT POINT: Dean announced this show while talking about expanding The Librarians universe, and then at ElectricCon he announced that what he REALLY wants to do is bring back the original show if next chapter is successful, and have both the next chapter and the original librarians team's show airing at the same time while crossing over constantly with each other. Essentially creating a shared Librarians television landscape for characters to move throughout. But that will only happen if The Next Chapter is successful enough. So PLEASE, open your hearts to these new characters and these new actors, because they are in the exact same position the cast of the original show was in. I was there, movie fans where complaining that it wasn't a show solely about Flynn and Flynn alone. But when once the show actually aired, they all quickly shut up, because the day Dean Devlin makes Librarians characters that aren't worth obsessing over is the day hell freezes over. If you don't support The Next Chapter, you will completely lose any chance of seeing those older characters return. Trust me, guys. Relax. You will love these new characters just as much, and you will see the old ones again if this show gets more seasons. So if you want that, you better start getting hyped!

#the librarians #the librarians tnt #jacob stone #the librarians tnc #thelibrarianstnc #tnc #the next chapter #the librarians franchise #the librarians universe #the librarians the next chapter #dean devlin #noah wyle #john harlan kim #electriccon #some of this is conjecture but if you know you know

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rinarin-karimel · 8 months ago

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Chapter 431 analysis. why everyone drew the wrong conclusions.

When the first spoiler frames from the volume came out, hell on earth began, some shippers rejoiced at the canonization, others cursed Horikoshi. I was initially going to say that all these wishes of dirty things towards the author are very ugly: at first, when 430 came out, the Katsudeku shippers rejoiced, and the Izuochi shippers wrote Horikoshi curses, and now it's the opposite, and I would like to ask him to behave decently. I was also upset by the leaks, not only because I liked the other ships, but also because I never saw Deku's romantic chemistry with Ochako, and I hate the trope "a good girl is in love with the main character, he doesn't think about her, but in the end they get married" BUT then the whole chapter came out. And no. In the finale, there is no Izuocha as a canonization at all. At all. And it’s not about the ships, but about the fact that many people didn’t understand what the author wanted to say. It's just that some have already gotten wound up and drunk from the "canonization", while others have started to wind themselves up with their disappointment and savor it, pulling things onto it that don't actually confirm their disappointment", that is, we have a crowd effect.

At first, without context, only by spoilers (it has already been confirmed that some of them are false), it seemed romantic in itself. That is, out of context, you can see how the hero notices a girl at a party after the timeskip, and can't take his eyes off her

But in the whole chapter, this page followed this.

And Deku doesn't look in love here, he looks... scared.

What moments before this does this page refer to and parallelize? And these? Deku, Tsuyu notice that Ochako is very ill and she hides her pain, and forces herself to smile.

And this is what parallels this image, which is confirmed by the context of the whole chapter from the very beginning: Ochako is in pain.

8 years of pain and abscess and this is referenced in her conversation with Tsuyu before the party Next: Deku runs to Ochako as he ran after the war: to save her, he saw that his friend needed saving and urgently.

Ochako herself. You might think that this frame is a confirmation that she still loves Deku.

But the whole chapter had a completely different context.

She remembers this moment as if out of a desire to remember it and feel it again, as if wanting to deceive herself that it is still like that. Just pay attention to the frames: Ochako is shown alone in the crowd, her gait is unsteady, she remembers things that happened 8 years ago out of nostalgia and most likely her wishes will be deceived, that she still has this feeling, because she feels empty. That's why she remembers her conversation with Izuku in chapter 428: Ochako longs for salvation again.

In some form, she gets this salvation when in her head she pushes herself on behalf of Toga to live on. In some way, there is a romantic subtext here, Uraraka on behalf of Toga tells herself that she should let her go and try to experience something else, she herself feels a romantic subtext here, remembering her feelings, but are they in love with each other at the moment?

VERY, very unlikely And, so as not to accuse me, I'm not even a Togarako shipper, because I don't like Toga.

Then the fandom carried on and everyone was charged by each other: Izuku left Bakugo and did not go with him to the agency. But A) it goes without saying that he always wanted to be on equal terms with Kacchan, and compete on equal terms, so he wants to quickly become an independent hero. B) and this is the most important thing. The car and their conversation in the car, which was not in the Friday spoilers, and most importantly the context of this conversation.

During the discussion between Kirishima, Katsuki and Izuku that Deku did not agree to work with Katsuki in the same agency, Deku looks at the signed card with All Might and smiles softly and thoughtfully. It would seem: Deku is happy for his friend

But the Context. This is the same card that was next to Katsuki when he died, and Izuku saw him dead. And Izuku considered himself guilty of his death, that he was not there to protect him, he did not manage to arrive in time to save him, he allowed Toga to drag him into the portal, he was distracted, he did not save.

Deku considers himself - guilty. And this is exactly what goes in the context of the conversation about Izuku not agreeing to be with him in the same agency, although he himself once wanted it. Izuku still thinks that he is too Guilty to be near Katsuki. Hence his running away from him, which Katsuki reads as if he is no longer needed.

But who is Deku? The one who was told to keep his heart under lock and key in order to be the heir of One for All. The one who suppressed his emotions since childhood, and made others always believe that he was okay.

And no, this doesn't mean that Deku doesn't care about Kacchan and doesn't love him (in what sense it doesn't matter), Deku thinks that Katsuki would be better off without him and doesn't understand at all how much he hurts Katsuki. Deku - hides his pain after all the traumas of the war still behind a smile on his face, and this is exactly what Uraraka does in the same chapter. That is why Izuku immediately notices that something is wrong with her at the party, because he feels the same way. The very context of how he looks at Uraraka, the guys discuss couples and a happy life, but what Deku remembers before turningon Ochaka? Shigaraki and his injury.

About Deku's blushing: when they clash, he probably blushes because of the sexual context, but during the promise to spend more time with Ochako, this is most likely not the case: it's a promise to save her and shame for himself for not noticing that she needed help earlier, as well as some kind of "self-conviction", when a person tries to convince himself of something that he can handle or deceive himself, his face often heats up: after all, Deku can't "save" himself.

That's why he is the one who reads Uraraka's feelings, their traumas are similar. And as a hero who can't stand aside when someone is in trouble, he runs to give her what she needs: help and salvation. This is not a chapter about the canonization of ships, these are the traumas that haunt them already in adulthood and the story about them.

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justkending · 1 year ago

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2700+

A/N Note: OK! Here we go! I'm excited to share this mini-series and what's to come in it. It's a lot more in-depth than I thought it would be, but I love it. I hope you do as well :) Anyway! As always, please let me know what you think, and all comments are welcome!

_____________

“And you chose those two to go on a task together? Why?” Steve exasperated, running a hand over his face as he looked over the video footage in front of them.

“Everyone else was on a mission,” Tony exclaimed.

“That and it doesn’t matter what their petty vendettas against each other are. They’re professionals at the end of the day that better get their God damn acts together before I personally make them regret it,” Fury countered.

“Undercover newlyweds seems like a risky assignment for them,” Nat added. “Steve and I have done it before. We can-”

“No, you can not,” Fury cut them off and clicked a button on his desk that swapped the video footage of druglords to a file slowly scrolling. “You both have an assignment I’m sending you in the next hour in correlation to this case. So without your work, theirs is pointless. Got it?”

Nat and Steve shared a quick look before the blonde gave him a curt nod for him to continue.

Fury went on to explain how an insider of the criminal group had confirmed shipments, including hostages working as drug mules and other illegal substances that hadn’t been tested yet across US borders. A whole operation in itself, but Bucky and Y/N’s job would give them information the current insiders they had on the job weren’t able to attain.

Y/N and Bucky’s undercover assignment was to act as newlyweds, infiltrate the front runners of the group, and try to become a proven alliance in hopes of joining the group in their ‘business’.

“So we’re on standby with information until they have leads to help our end?” Steve concluded.

“Yes. And vice versa. You’re running tactical, and they’re running intelligence, although a mix in between,” Fury nodded, handing them a paper copy of the mission.

“And it can’t go the other way?” Nat asked.

“Your faces have become much too well known in the last few years for it to be passable,” Tony added, arms crossed and reclined in the rolling office chair he couldn’t see to keep stationary. “Bucky doesn’t care for the public eye and has changed appearances since his run from the government, and no one can forget America’s sweetheart over here,” he motioned to Steve.

“I’ve changed identities enough to get by,” Nat shrugged, watching the billionare carefully.

“Yes, but Y/N’s face hasn’t graced the nationwide flatscreens nearly as much as yours,” he smiled spryly and fluttered his eyelashes. “Plus, it’s already been decided, so we’re moving on from the argument.”

“How long of an operation are we talking about here if the two have to create a relationship with the front runners of this?” Steve asked.

“Depends on how well the couple can sell it,” Fury crossed his arms. “Speaking of the couple.”

“Shove me again, and you’ll lose another limb that you’ll miss far more than that arm,” Y/N growled as she pushed past the massive body blocking her way into the meeting room.

“There’s a thing called manners, and it’s free to use them,” Bucky grunted as she shoved him with surprising strength that made him slightly teeter.

The group outside of the new additions gave each other a hopeless look.

“I give it two days,” Steve sighed, resting his head on his fist and watching them as they struggled to find the last open chair. Y/N came on top of the scrabble and shoved him again for extra measures.

“Jackass,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind her, kicking her chair in extra annoyance.

“Bitchass,” Y/N retorted, throwing a middle finger behind her.

“I think you give them too much credit.” Nat let out a dry chuckle before turning to Fury. “Please, break the news to the two idiots so I can have a highlight of this night.”

“What news?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows to Fury. She was one of the few people who didn’t show fear towards the walking intimidation of a man.

“Your next mission,” Tony answered in a long breath. “Where you and Barnes will be known as Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky gawked and stood straighter in his spot.

“What’s the date today?” Y/N asked at the same time.

Bucky came around from her back and gave her a worried yet disgusted look. “I’m sorry. For what reason are you worried about the date?”

She never took her eyes off Fury. “I’m just trying to clarify if it’s April 1st or not because this is a poorly done April Fools joke.” She held an equally intimidating stare at the master in front of her.

“It’s June. You’re off by a few months,” he replied, unphased and unbreaking.

“Then I’d like some clarification on who needs a fucking lobotomy, considering that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve heard today. And I’ve been around this dumbass for the last 12 hours already,” she jabbed a finger back at Bucky, whose nostrils were flaring.

“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly.

“Thanks, I like to keep it that way, Cyborg,” she replied without turning to him. “But seriously, is it you, Fury, that needs a Psych eval because there is no way in hell you thought this idea would actually work out in your favor.”

The room was silent as the two most intense people in the room had a stare-down. Eventually, Fury spoke up with a smirk on his lips.

“You better figure the fuck out how to make it work in my favor because any other way isn’t really an option for you, Sergeant Y/L/N.”

Before Y/N could fire another remark that would likely have put anyone else six feet in the ground, Bucky cut her off. “What’s the mission?”

Y/N finally gave Bucky her attention with a stern face freckled with annoyance. “Teacher’s pet.” Bucky made a face at her before she turned around.

Fury went on to explain the mission on both their end and Nat and Steve’s. From the sounds of it, it was going to take months of convincing some dicks in the drug trafficking business (covering as presidents of the homeowner association club) that they wanted in on their scheme in order to get the information no one else seems to be able to steal.

“How many sundresses do you own, Y/N? Because I don’t think your rock band, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens are going to convince anyone you’re the baked-you-a-fresh-pie-as-a-hello-to-the-neighborhood-kind of wife,” he added, emphasizing the label he had already created for her undercover character.

“How are they going to take to a half-robotic husband?” She shoved his vibranium hand off the back of her chair.

“I have technology for that,” Tony jumped in.

“And I have your credit card for a new wardrobe, so I guess that solves both those problems,” she flashed a fake smile at Tony before crossing her arms snuggly across her chest.

“You’re gonna have to leave that attitude at home, too,” Bucky got down to whisper in her ear, and he moved fast enough before she could sucker punch him in the face.

“Why not just arrest these two? Why go through the whole process of undercover work if we know they’re running the operation?” Y/N questioned, shifting side to side in her rolling chair as she thought aloud.

“Because there isn’t solid evidence, thanks to their associates being connected enough to cover shit up,” Fury answered. “And we believe there are multiple parties of their stature in the game. Meaning, we arrest them, the others scatter, and we risk losing a lot of information and take 20 steps back from where we’re at.”

“Hmm,” she nodded as she stared off into a void space in the room, calculating her approach to this.

“You’re actually considering this?” Nat asked. “I expected more of a fight.”

“I’m telling myself that it’s the drugs and possible human trafficking I’m doing this for, and tormenting Bucky along the way will be a bonus instead of a nuisance,” she replied with a weak smile like she was still in the process of convincing herself that.

“Smart,” Nat shrugged and gave an agreeable face.

“Your flights are leaving in four and a half hours, so I suggest packing your bag of necessities before we ship you off,” Tony sat up from his chair, stretching. “Any other things you need will be provided at the house already set up for you two to play the part of newlyweds. And get used to that word because it's about to become extremely annoying hearing it on repeat. Barnes, come with me to get that looking more human-like when you get a chance,” he pointed at his arm before walking out.

Bucky scanned over the file in hand and let out a sigh. “We couldn’t get stationed at a beach somewhere in Hawaii?”

“You’ll find the mountains rather eye-catching this time of the year,” Fury typed a few things on his desk and clasps his hands behind his back. “And you don’t have a choice either way. Dismissed.”

___________________

Y/N’s POV

The amount of junk they had pawned off to us as “newlywed cargo” seemed excessive. Brand new appliances were still in boxes unopened, letters on them saying who had gifted them to us as our “wedding gift” littered the kitchen and entryway.

I was currently in the guest room unpacking a box of linens and bedding in the spare closet. My mind was a hundred miles away from my physical body, but somehow, I had managed to organize the closet in a surprisingly efficient manner while on autopilot.

“Honey,” Bucky’s voice came from the hallway, and I took advantage of the times I wasn’t being watched to roll my eyes at the pet name. Before I could respond with a snarky comment, he followed up with, “The next-door neighbors are here to introduce themselves. Wanna come say hi?”

Showtime.

“Be right out!” I shouted back, standing from my spot, crouched to the ground, and brushing off one of the many new sundresses now taking up space in my closet.

For clarity, it’s not that I was against them; it just wasn’t my usual taste. Though the freeness of no pants was starting to rub off on me…

Coming around the corner of the hallway to our homey new abode, I plastered an award-winning smile on my face and scanned the two individuals in front of Bucky. I gave Bucky a silent look that read, “Hey sweetheart,” to outsiders and, “The assholes in question?” to a trained eye.

“Doll,” Bucky started, nodding his head once at my true question and matching my step to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me close for extra show. “This is Reginold and Bethanne Bauer. They’re our neighbors right across the street from us,” he introduced, adding a squeeze to my hip that I countered with a pinch to his side that he chuckled off.

The physical touch was for show, but I knew he used it as a way to irritate me further, too. Lucky for me, it’s a two-player game.

“Please, call me Reg,” the middle-aged man offered his hand.

The man looked like he played the role of a typical white male living in a cookie-cutter home, but his build showed he wasn’t on the unfit side of things. From the files, he was 42 years old, and he obviously had kept his health a priority because he could have been in his mid-30s, from what I gathered.

“You must be Charlotte,” Bethanne said, jumping in when her husband didn’t release my hand in a timely manner. “My my, you’re far more beautiful up close,” she said with a sweet smile, though any woman could recognize the hint of judgment in them.

Bethanne Bauer was a 5’6”, 38-year-old lady with darker blonde hair and a figure that showed she likely was a pilates guru who didn’t take many days off. Her Lululemon leggings and slicked-back bun confirmed this assessment.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I replied with a nose crinkle and a firm squeeze of my hand before drawing it back to rest on Bucky’s chest. “We appreciate you coming by and introducing yourself.” I smiled up to Bucky, who was already looking down at me (what a showman). I leaned my head in the nook of his shoulder as I turned back to them. “We were so nervous about starting over in a new state and weren’t sure what the community would be like. But everyone’s been so kind here in Montana, and you guys are just proving that point.”

“Oh, this neighborhood is like a family,” Reg replied, keeping his eyes on me. I'd feel uneasy if I didn’t know how to disarm a man in five hundred ways, but I knew more than 500 ways to get a man like the one in front of me to grovel. “So much so, you may be under careful watch for a while,” he winked, and I forced a laugh out, Bucky pulling me closer to his side at the harmless threat. “I’m just joking with ya,” he waved off with a boisterous laugh of his own, and Bethanne rolled her eyes.

“He thinks he’s a comedian,” she playfully patted his shoulder. “But really, if you guys need anything at all, we are just a shout away. Or, our welcome to the neighborhood gift basket has our phone numbers in it, too, if you prefer to call.”

Off to the side, I noticed a cellophane wicker basket with baked goods, a wine bottle, and some gift cards in it. Bucky must have accepted it before I got in here.

“You all are too kind,” I gushed, putting a hand on my chest in appreciation. “See honey,” I swatted Bucky’s chest, getting a tiny grunt from him. “I told you we would find a home here. I have a good feeling about this community,” I winked back at them with a wide grin.

I could see the studying eyes on the woman and decided to act oblivious to her assessing.

“Can I ask y’all a quick question?” I asked, a twinge of a southern accent I hadn’t pulled in ages coming out casually. “Where is the best grocery store around here? I’ve heard mixed things about the two stores y’all have, and you guys seem to have great taste, so...” I motioned to the gift basket.

Bethanne listed a few of the stores they go to, ones I had researched on our flight here to get a better grounding of our new home. Of course, they were the more high-end stops. Eventually, the Bauers excused themselves for a neighborhood meeting they had planned, and Bucky and I were left alone. As soon as the door shut, I moved to the kitchen to grab a notepad.

“Have we unpacked the pens, Beau?” I asked loudly, using Bucky’s fake name, which he seemed to know why right off the bat.

“Second drawer by the fridge,” he motioned, opening the basket and going through it, our charades still continuing.

“I had a few things we need to grab from the store and thanks to our helpful neighbors, we know the best spot now,” I mindlessly talked as I wrote on the note; Check for bugs.

A welcome basket was fine and dandy, but considering who it was from and how quick they were to be at our doorstep—not even three hours into the moving vans' pull-up—I knew the drill, and so did Bucky as he listed out aloud what was in the gift.

“Wow, they got us Doordash gift cards,” he smiled, placing them on the marble counter. “Wanna eat in tonight? Maybe a local spot?”

“Sounds good to me,” I hummed, coming around the island corner and placing the notebook beside it. “Oh, did you find their number? We can ask if they have any suggestions.”

Placing the pen on top of the notepad for Bucky to respond, I moved to look in the basket myself and grabbed the note they had attached to it.

“Eat in, drink some wine, and,” he circled the word ‘bugs,’ confirming the suspicion before leaning on the counter and looking at me with communicative eyes that didn’t match his words. “Watch a movie if I can get the TV set up by then.”

“Sounds like a date,” I smiled, but the annoyance that we had to be playing our characters until we could dispose of the bug was playing in my eyes.

Marvel Tags:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

#bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader miniseries #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert #mcu reader inserrt #marvel series #bucky barnes series

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cherryblossompink303 · 6 months ago

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Patience *Bonus Chapter*: ~degrees of seperation~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Oceans apart can be very far away, and Kyoya never expected how far it would actually feel ➼ what to expect: "If i didn't know better Kyoya Ootori I would think that you miss me" ➼ warnings: n/a

A/n: when someone comments that the next chapter will be y/n and Kyoya being masterminds and I already had this chapter written T-T

You had to admit that the flutter that you felt in your chest when you heard the familiar jingle of the video call on your computer. The summer is going incredibly since you left Japan for an internship in Italy, you found yourself counting down the hours for Kyoya to call.

"Hello?" it is already dark for Kyoya when you answer, a symptom of the time difference. "Hi" you smile, still unpacking your bag as you had only just got in from work that day. "How did talking with that competator of your father go?"

Kyoya takes a sharp inhale at the mention of the meeting "As well as we could hope. I've sworn them to secracy even if they do not accept our offer" you nod "Good, I'm sure they will, they've been looking for a way to get back at the ootori group for years" Kyoya laughs through a hum "Very true"

"How was work?"

"Alright, in full honesty if they were paying me I probably could have fixed half their issues by now, but I also don't want to work for them long term so what would be the point?" Kyoya smirks "Sounds about right"

A comfortable silence overcomes the two of you as you both basque in your combined success. "Are you being well looked after?" you roll your eyes "Yes, you know that I am" Kyoya had insisted in you staying in one of his families properties while you were in Italy.

"Do you have enough money?" you laugh "I don't think money has ever been an issue" it is kyoya's turn to roll his eyes. "I am just making sure, the less you have to rely on your parents money the better”

You huff “yes Kyoya I am fine”

“Good.”

You shake your head at kyoyas expression “what’s got you so worried?”

“Your father called today.”

Oh.

You try to seem unbothered, looking away “oh really?” Kyoya hummed, leaning back in his seat “he’s wondering why you haven’t gone home”

You raise an eyebrow “and he called you?”

“He thinks I’ve kidnapped you” you laugh at the reply “in a way he’s not fully wrong” Kyoya scoffed “like you didn’t leap to stay at the villa instead of with your nonna”

“What did you say?”

“That you are extremely busy with work placements”

“Good”

Kyoya cleared his throat “he also mentioned something else”

“Hmm?”

“Now that we’re going into third year…he said that the l/n and ootori group are going to release a joint statement confirming our engagement by the end of the year”

“What?”

This was a strange move, even for your fathers of all people.

“I would have thought that they would have waited until we graduated to announce….why move it up?”

Kyoya hums in agreement “something must have prompted them”

You wrack your brain for any idea on what would trigger them to hasten the arrangement. “Well if my father is the one that is moving it up…possibly he is sensing that your father is getting cold feet?”

He raises an eyebrow “I mean possibly but I don’t know where he would get that idea, I must admit I haven’t really spoken to my father on the matter”

It is only now that is hits you exactly what you had just been told. “Wait Kyoya, if the engagement is announced what about the host club-“

“I’ll handle that, don’t worry”

You sigh, leaning back, shaking your head “I mean…I guess if it’s moved up then it’s still happening…that’s good right?”

“I suppose, it does mean that you won’t be with them for as long after we graduate” Kyoya sighed, taking out his notebook and scribbling something down that you can't see onscreen.

You keep forgetting somehow that this engagement is actually going to end in marriage despite that being the entire point. It makes you wonder actually what life being married to Kyoya would even look like.

You always used to picture it as being cold, that the two of you would just live in the same house and for the most part mind your own business. But that was before you actually started talking to each other now you have no idea.

"How are the host club?" Kyoya groans, leaning back in his seat "As infuriating as ever, they're even harder to handle without you here to keep them in check"

You laugh "It is still the summer I am sure that they haven't been that bad" you shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee. "Tamaki's delusions ae unfortunately not seasonal i'm afraid"

"I can imagine"

"That does remind me however, our said great leader has asked for your proposed events calendar for the next semester" You have to restrain yourself from laughing midsip at kyoya's newfound nickname.

"Ok, I'll have to get started on it then, I've been a bit busy planning corperate sabotage to work on it"

"It will work out, I am sure of it"

You pause. "There is...still one more thing that we still don't know"

"Hm?"

"What exactly my father is covering up for the ootori group"

Kyoya sighs "yeah, I've been trying to look into that, the problem is trying to investigate within the ootori group without exposing our plans"

you hum in agreement "true, it is just concerning that if the group is so desperate to cover something up that your father would arrange a marriage with the head of a media empire for his daughter then it is serious, the ootori group is in medical..."

"I dread to think aswell"

Things were just going to get messy this next year, you just knew it.

"When....are you returning to Japan?"

You're head shoots up at the question, surely he already knows, a detail like that does not slip under Kyoya's radar.

"I...my placement ends on the nineteenth, you know that"

"I know...I just...thought I have may have gotten my dates wrong"

"Why would you think that? your notes as meticulous I know that much"

"I know it's just, it feels like you've been gone for a long time so..."

You raise an eyebrow "If i didn't know better Kyoya Ootori I would think that you miss me"

"More like I need someone else to deal with tamaki and the twins" You roll your eyes "You love them don't be so mean"

"If you say so"

You roll your eyes "Okay well if they are that unbearable it will be one more week until I am returning to Japan, and then your torment will be over don't worry"

Kyoya lets out a small chuckle "Good"

"Goodnight Kyoya"

"Goodnight y/n"

The room all of a sudden feels all too quiet as the call ends. One more week.

Next time on patience 'Kyoya's reluctant day out!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #ohshc #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #ouran highschool host club #ouran hshc #kaoru hitachiin #ouran #ouran kyoya #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 1 month ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 27

Chapters: 27/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby @gallantys . If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Author's note: Writing this chapter was pure joy. It features heartwarming romance, and some absolutely NEEDED smut. I've also added a bit of additional lore about the Reader and story in general, which will eventually transition to the sequel based on season 2. The new episodes will premiere in less than two weeks from today, and that feels absolutely unreal! The moment Chapter 28 will be posted, we'll be already halfway through the second season.

This chapter contains A LOT of tooth rotting fluff, and I'm not even ashamed. I plan to complete this story within the next three chapters, and I suspect the sequel will inevitably force me to add a good amount of drama and emotional traumas, even though I'm working behind the scenes to create an alternative ending that will hopefully make sense. As we know, things are definitely getting darker and more tragic this time around.

WARNING: NSFW and huge chappy ahead.

As more mysteries unfolded and your light powers grew stronger in the Waking World, you cherished every moment with your King of Dreams and the child growing in your womb.

Consciousness returned as you surveyed the chamber Morpheus had crafted within his castle, the amethyst formations casting a gentle glow beneath the ornate canopy, while beyond the window doors stretched the infinite expanse of the dream realm, beckoning with its distant sounds.

You were shaken by pure relief as you confirmed that your reconciliation had indeed been real, dispelling the momentary anxiety that had accompanied your waking state. Your fingertips traced the intricate patterns of the celestial bedding, your nightgown seamlessly merging with the stellar design.

As you adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings and attempted to sit upright, a sudden wave of intense nausea overcame you, compelling you to rise from the bed and make your way to the adjacent washroom. Though you had managed to hold it back until now, your stomach demanded release as you hurried across the polished floor and knelt before the toilet. The feeling was far from pleasant—your throat burned as if lava were pouring out, your eyes clenched shut as you held yourself steady.

Exhausted breaths escaped you as your voice reverberated through the spacious room. Despite your discomfort, you found yourself letting out a weary laugh at the sight of the ethereal liquid in the basin, which swirled around on its own and immediately returned to its pristine appearance.

Rising to your feet, you approached the sink where the mirror reflected your fatigued countenance, dark circles beneath your eyes, your face now bare of makeup. You let the cool water flow over your hands, its gentle cascade providing a moment of respite as you sipped from your cupped hands, letting the cool water refresh your palate and cleanse away the lingering bitterness. The acrid taste faded completely, replaced by subtle hints of mint and lavender.

With a deep exhale, you gripped the sides of the sink as a shadow shifted behind you. Meeting Morpheus' gaze in the mirror, you offered him a smile before turning to face his concerned expression.

“Hey.”

"You are in pain," he observed, his eyes settling softly on your midsection.

"Well, that's a well-known side effect of pregnancy. I'm learning to cope with it," you replied with a shrug.

"I was not present for you when you needed me," he stated, his velvet voice tinged with regret. "I have failed in my responsibility to ease your burden."

"This isn't a burden, Morpheus. I'm carrying your child. And you're here now."

You leaned forward, nestling against his chest as his hands gently encircled your waist, his lips coming to rest against your forehead.

"You are here, aren't you? This is real."

"I am quite real," he reassured you. "And I shall not abandon you to solitude again."

You hummed contentedly, breathing in his anchoring scent, the blend of sandalwood and herbal musk bringing deep comfort.

He gently loosened his embrace as his fingers traced the material of your nightgown, following the curve of your hips and settling against your stomach. "You require rest, my sweet."

Your legs trembled slightly as your symptoms persisted, the sickness rushing back the moment he guided you away from the washroom and back to the king-sized bed. As you sank gracefully onto the pillows and Morpheus seated himself at the edge of the bed, a pang of sharp pain caused you to wince, a soft groan escaping your lips as your brow furrowed in distress.

"Ugh. This little one is certainly stubborn," you said. "As much as I love her, I'd kill for a full night's sleep."

Without a word, Morpheus extended his hand toward your abdomen, his palm resting gently against the fabric covering the growing swell beneath. In an instant, the nausea dissipated again, replaced by a strong sense of tranquility that permeated your entire body, from your toes to the tips of your hair.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the mattress. “Mhh…”

"Is your suffering eased, my love?"

"Oh yes. Whatever you're doing, it's absolutely working."

You reached for his palm, pressing it more firmly against your stomach as you offered another smile. "Thank you."

"To tend to you, to care for you while you carry our child... it is my deepest honor, and my sacred duty."

Your eyes glistened in the soft light of the room as the amethysts' purple luminescence reflected across his skin, tracing the contour of his jaw.

"I've really missed you, Morpheus," you reiterated. "Without you, I felt so lost."

"I was... blind. A fool who could not see what was before him. I am truly and deeply sorry."

"I wanted to hate you," you blurted out, causing him to freeze. "I wanted to be angry with you for the rest of my life."

His head hung low. "And yet you have chosen to forgive me. Why?"

"Because I love you," you replied simply. "And I knew that even if I wanted to, I could never despise you. How could I, when you've become everything to me?"

"Such kindness is undeserved."

"And why do you think that?"

"I who swore to be your eternal protector have instead caused you the deepest of wounds."

Your lower lip trembled. "You broke my heart."

"Yes."

"But you never intended to."

"No matter."

"It does matter. Your love for me is unmistakable."

His fingers traced small, soothing strokes, the gentle motion endearing. “I do love you. More than all the stories ever dreamed.”

"That's all I need, really. As painful and frightening as it was, I never truly stopped waiting for you."

"Would you still have welcomed me back into your heart, had our child not bound us together?" he asked, his tone carrying both hope and resignation.

You answered with absolute conviction. "Of course. Without a moment's hesitation."

“I…”

"Morpheus, I'm not here with you simply because of the pregnancy. Even before I knew I was expecting, all I wanted was your return."

"After bearing witness to my nature, to the darkness of my actions, to the weight of centuries of pain I have inflicted. You desire my presence still."

You chuckled. "You speak as though that were something inconceivable."

"In my eternal existence, all those I have loved, were inevitably lost."

You tightened your grip around his hand, brushing your thumb across his knuckles. "And yet here I am. The past doesn't dictate the future. I may not agree with all your decisions, but that's what love is about. I won't turn against you just because we have different approaches."

"You possess such strength of spirit, such profound wisdom. Your heart holds a compassion that even the stars would envy. You could have chosen an ordinary existence, a life untouched by nightmares, free from the weight of immortal beings."

You shook your head vigorously. "A life without you? What kind of horrible existence would that be?"

His eyes softened, a faint crimson tinge returning to them. “My love…”

"You must stop diminishing yourself this way. I understand you want what's best for me, but I thought we had moved past your assumption that I couldn't find happiness with you. You said yourself that the book was a trial, one we successfully overcame."

He listened attentively, his throat constricting.

"That first time I saw you—caged, emotionally broken, stripped of everything—I could still perceive your greatness. I felt your power radiating through the glass. And in that moment, everything finally clicked into place."

Your chest tightened as memories flooded back, from your first step into the Burgess estate to the life-changing moment you stood before the Lord of Dreams.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I no longer felt empty, because deep down I knew you were that missing piece of me I had been searching for all along."

A faint, vulnerable smile crossed his lips.

"I know that sounds rather sentimental," you continued. "But I assure you, this was never some fleeting, childish infatuation."

"Such thoughts have never crossed my mind."

Your eyelids felt heavy now, but you fought against sleep. "When I was a child, unable to dream, I would often hope The Sandman would visit my room, sprinkling sand into my eyes to guide me into the world of dreams."

You wrapped your hands around his wrist, holding onto him like an anchor.

"If only I had known that one day I would fall in love with him. That unbeknownst to me, he would become the most beautiful dream imaginable, and welcome me into his realm."

Before he could respond, a laugh bubbled up and spilled from your lips. "I can't imagine what you must have thought of me that day. I was such a mess back then, wasn't I?"

He tilted his head slightly, watching you with those deep, unfathomable eyes that seemed to contain entire galaxies within their depths. "That is not quite accurate, my love."

"Oh, come on, Morpheus. Be honest," you said with a wide grin. "I promise I won't get offended."

He arched a brow, clearly amused by your playful self-deprecation. "I thought you were the most magnificent mortal I had ever seen. Your spirit burned like a spark in the darkness."

Your teasing smile softened into something more tender. "Really?"

He nodded, his free hand reaching to tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. "I saw your kindness, your strength, your refusal to stand idly by in the face of wrongdoing. And though I dared not acknowledge it then, you awakened something ancient within me that I had long forgotten existed.”

"And now?" you asked, your gaze soft and full of love. "What do you think of me now?"

Morpheus leaned in closer, his expression warm and unguarded, the way he reserved only for you. "Now... I believe you are my redemption. And that has been truth itself since the moment you first crossed my path."

"So, I wasn't just some annoying human after all?"

"No, my love," he denied, his tone light but sincere. "You were always a rather remarkable creature."

"Remember when I grabbed that chair and tried to break the glass before they dragged me away? Looking back, I was quite reckless. That was hardly what I'd call remarkable."

“Reckless? Perhaps,” he admitted with fondness. "Yet I found your courage most admirable."

"Admirable? Me, wildly swinging a chair around like a lunatic? I was about to make a complete fool of myself, and you consider that admirable?"

The corners of his mouth twitched upward even more. "Yes. In a world that has grown accustomed to turning a blind eye, you chose to confront that which you deemed unjust. Such defiance... such resolve... it revealed the very essence of your being."

You looked down at his hand, still tracing soft patterns along your abdomen. "Well, when you put it like that, it doesn't sound so ridiculous, does it?"

"Such an act was anything but ridiculous. You brought change to what had remained static for millennia. In you, I glimpsed... the first ray of hope I had known since the dawn of dreams."

Your cheeks flushed as you shifted deeper into the pillows. "Even when my heroic moment was nothing more than a chair and blind fury?" You paused thoughtfully, a soft hum escaping your throat once more. "The chair-wielding hero and the Dream King. Quite the dramatic pair, aren't we?"

His visage filled with admiration. "And now... we are three."

Your heart fluttered like a butterfly, wild and free. "And she gets to hear the tale of how her father met her mother. What a wonderful bedtime story that would make."

His fingers spread further across your covered belly, tracing the imperceptible rhythm of the baby's stirring, growing inside. "And she shall weave stories of her own, as the Princess of the Dreaming, a bridge between realms mortal and eternal."

"Who would have imagined that from that day in the basement, we'd find ourselves here, together in your castle, with a child on the way?"

He regarded you quietly for a moment, his gaze filled with an unspoken gratitude. "You have given me the most precious of gifts imaginable, treasures beyond measure. Your heart… and a child."

"And I would face a thousand Corinthians, a million Desires, and an infinite number of Hecates if it meant staying with you, where I belong. That is never going to change, for as long as this mortal life grants me."

"Then allow me to be worthy of your love and forgiveness. To guide you through the realm of dreams that was barred to you for so long. Let me care for my Queen... and our Little Star."

Your body trembled with excitement, your teeth gleaming in the dim light as you giggled. "I want nothing more. Words can't express how happy this makes me."

Your hand fell to your side, but his remained still, placed above your womb. No sand was needed—his voice alone served as the enchanted key, low and powerful, enveloping you like a protective haven. “Sleep, my beautiful Y/N.”

Your eyelids fell softly shut, your breathing deep and steady. "Morpheus?" you called, your voice barely audible.

"Tell me, my love."

Hovering between wakefulness and sleep, your body floating weightlessly, you felt compelled to share your thoughts, knowing that Morpheus would hear them regardless of your state of consciousness.

"Our daughter is going to adore you."

Deep within your being, you sensed an inexplicable connection between the developing life inside you and Morpheus, an authentic bond that surpassed the typical biological limitations of early pregnancy, as if your child already possessed an awareness of and longing for her father's presence.

Exhaustion finally claimed you as you drifted back into the realm outside, your mind surrendering to its gentle embrace. Slipping into slumber, Morpheus' resonant voice gradually faded from distinct utterances to otherworldly whispers, eventually becoming one with the ambient essence of the Dreaming.

"And I shall spend every waking moment of your existence ensuring you know the depth of devotion the King of Dreams holds for you both."

You stretched your arms gracefully as you traversed the polished floor of your chamber, your bare feet silent against the cool surface while your nightgown swayed elegantly at knee-length. After completing your morning ablutions, your skin carried a subtle fragrance from your bath, and your slightly damp hair felt like strands of satin against your skin.

Stepping onto the balcony, you were greeted by the mystical dreaming sky and verdant landscape, their beauty even more enchanting than the previous evening. The Dreaming was full of life, rich and prosperous, in a way you hadn't seen for quite a while.

The sound of beating wings could be heard in the distance, growing louder as the familiar, magnificent animal approached from the horizon. The wind stirred around you, and you watched the dragon descending, gliding elegantly before your balcony with its golden scales shimmering beneath the dreamlight. You smiled warmly at the majestic beast, who acknowledged your presence with a gentle dip of its head before continuing its patrol of the realm.

You ran your hands along the parapet, feeling the cool, solid marble beneath your fingers. This was real, you had truly returned to the realm of dreams in physical form, fully awake and present. The air carried the mingled scents of moonflowers, fresh grass, and sea salt. Soft chants and lullabies floated through the æther, accompanied by delicate chimes that seemed to ring in celebration.

Then, a presence rippled behind you, heralding the arrival of the monarch himself. You spun around with enthusiastic energy, grinning in delight as Morpheus came into view. His dark presence was framed by white curtains, billowing around him like dancing silk, mirroring your recent dream.

He was breathtaking, regal and powerful, his eyes like twin pools of celestial marvels.

You moved instinctively toward him, arms outstretched as you rushed to embrace him, pressing your lips to his with passionate fervor. Morpheus made a soft sound of surprise before yielding into the kiss, his fingers weaving gently through your hair.

"Hi," you whispered breathlessly, rising on tiptoes as you clung to his shoulders.

His hold was strong, hands now pressing against the small of your back, requiring minimal effort from you to stay upright.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

Reluctantly pulling away, you placed your palms around his neck, fingers toying with the back of his dark locks. "You worked a miracle, I can't remember the last time I woke up without morning sickness."

A satisfied smile graced Morpheus' features. "You find yourself in my realm now. It seems the Dreaming itself embraces our child, offering its protection."

"It's not just the Dreaming, it's you. I can't explain it, but I feel this peace inside me... and I know it isn't mine alone."

"Then it shall be my greatest pleasure to attend to both of your needs."

Your mouth crashed against his again, your body inching closer as your inhibitions dissolved. "Good. Because right now, I simply cannot stay away from you. And our little one seems to agree."

"I am yours entirely," he breathed. "And I will remain by your side for all of existence."

The air filled with nothing but gentle melodies; lips meeting in tender kisses, sighs, and rustling clothing. His mouth traced a path down your neck with feather-light touches, each kiss softer than the last, until reaching the delicate slope of your shoulder. His fingers found the strap of your nightgown, lowering it with care—your heart fluttering, breath growing shallow as your eyes closed in pleasure.

For weeks, you had longed to feel him close to you, to hear the low, rich timber of his voice, and to experience his devotion anew. Now here he was, standing before you in all his splendor, treating you as if you were the most precious being across all worlds.

"I heard your voice that night, my love."

His statement pierced through your thoughts like lightning, rendering you temporarily awestruck as your mind struggled to comprehend its significance.

"My voice?"

"It cut through the endless void I had created, more beautiful than any dream I have ever woven."

"But I'm only human,

And I bleed when I fall down,

I'm only human, and I crash and I break down,

Your words in my head, knives in my heart,

You build me up and then I fall apart,

Cause I'm only human.”

Through the dazzling stage lights that illuminated the room, you had caught a glimpse of a dark, statuesque silhouette in the blurry mist. Your rational mind attempted to dismiss it as nothing more than a trick of the light, born from your desperate wishes and hopeful heart.

"You were there…? I thought I had imagined it."

"You did not. I heard every word, felt all of it."

"I was hoping you would."

His lips pressed against your skin, his nose inhaling its fresh scent. "You are far more than merely human, my heart. In fact, I wish to prove it to you.”

"Morpheus," his name escaped like a prayer, like a spell you wished to bind to you forever. "I—"

"Yes," his answer came with absolute certainty. He knew precisely what you wanted, and he would give you far more than you could ever dream of asking for.

Your body trembled with anticipation as his lips traced their journey back up, finding yours once more. “Say my name again… and again.”

"I could speak your name all day, Morpheus."

“Again.”

“Morpheus.”

“More, my love. It is pure music when spoken by these perfect lips of yours.”

And so you obliged, between passionate kisses, breathing his name over and over with growing enthusiasm. "I really want you. I need you."

"You shall have me. Every fragment of my being, for all of eternity."

Morpheus' sentence hinted at something big; a love that would stretch far beyond the years at your disposal. While mortality meant your time was finite, the prospect of living forever had begun to intrigue you with each passing day. Hob's proposition of eternal life, the chance to share endless days with Morpheus and your child, held an increasingly compelling appeal that you could no longer dismiss.

For now, however, your thoughts were consumed only by the Lord of Dreams, the sovereign of your heart.

Suddenly, as your kisses became more insistent, a luminous golden light emanated from your hands where they rested against his chest. The same glowing energy that had formed in your previous nightly adventures, the very force which had brought you to the Book of Paradoxes, now returned with heightened force, extending along your arms in intricate, vein-like patterns of radiant filaments.

"Oh!"

"Y/N?"

You took a step backward, staring at your hands in visible apprehension, as he observed in silent contemplation. "Right, about this... I haven't told you yet."

"I am aware of this development," he replied. “My love, you—”

"Wait, don't. I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe... maybe you should stay away from me until it stops."

While there was no evidence suggesting your power could be dangerous, given its apparent role in healing the Dreaming’s wounds and escorting you to prophetic knowledge, its true nature was still undefined. Though Hob had no adverse effects after coming into contact with it in the Waking World, you couldn't completely dismiss the possibility of unforeseen implications.

But Morpheus would not be deterred, his face set with resolute purpose. His cool hands reached for yours, fingers gliding along your skin until his own began to shimmer with gold.

"This energy, this light... it stems from pure goodness itself. You cannot harm me."

"But… I still don't understand what it truly is."

"It has always resided in you. Slumbering beneath the surface. A power as old as your very existence." He cupped your face, his thumb caressing beneath your eye as your irises sparkled with incandescent fire. "You possess such exquisite radiance. You look so beautiful, my love."

"I'm carrying Morpheus' child. Clearly, these powers are coming from the baby."

Astra's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "In part, yes. But I believe there's more to it than that."

"What do you mean? I'm only human, Astra. Morpheus is the one who has full control over this realm, not me. And surely, his child is no different."

"You may not have direct control over the Dreaming, but I think you're more than you believe yourself to be. This golden light? It's undoubtedly coming from you."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I never had it before. This is no coincidence."

"Look, I may not have all the answers—and truly, only he would know for certain. But as a supernatural creature myself, Y/N, I can assure you that this magic isn't coming from our future Prince or Princess of the Dreaming. Not entirely at least."

"So Astra was right… this power isn't coming from the baby, is it?"

"Our daughter has awakened something that was latent, something that has always been yours: Your kindness shining like a beacon, your outstanding bravery, and the wisdom in your words bringing solace to those who hear them."

The tendrils of light swirled and transformed, slowly retreating until they settled at your fingertips. “What does this make me?”

"You are who you have always been. The very same mortal who came to me that fateful day. The one who earned my love. The one who now carries my child."

Kissing the crown of your hair, he enveloped your upper arms with gentle care. "You are my Y/N. You belong here, with me."

"I always have. And I always will, until the end of time."

"You are mine, and no one else's."

The golden light faded completely, your skin returning to its natural state. With another kiss, you sealed your promise of infinite loyalty and adoration, meant for him and him alone.

"So much has changed in my life since I met you. When I look at you, I see my entire future. You're everything I'll ever need; whether I live forever or remain mortal, it doesn't matter."

"Your courage astounds me, and your spirit is boundless. I shall ensure that every facet of your being remains untarnished, shielding you from the darkness of doubt and uncertainty."

Your fingers moved across his shoulder blades. "I want you to take me, Morpheus. Please… make love to me."

Your words acted like a magical trigger, unleashing something neither of you could contain.

"Then, let me show you pleasures that only I, the King of All Dreams, can offer you.”

Morpheus' gaze turned wild, his eyes darkening with hunger as they took in every inch of you, his lips magnetically drawn to yours. You were entangled like chain links, united like two ends of the same thread.

"There's no other living creature in the entire universe who could compare."

You walked to the bed where the sheets lay disheveled from your night's sleep. He followed close behind, his lips wet and plump, staring at your face as though you were the most exquisite delicacy to savor. You eased onto the mattress, your hand in his, as his knees pressed into the plush surface and advanced toward you.

You parted your legs to welcome him, his coat opening behind. Your eyes met in silent intensity as his palm traced slowly up your thigh, your nightgown following the path upward. A shiver ran through you as he looked at your abdomen, where the subtle curve of your growing belly revealed itself before him.

"You are... truly magnificent."

"If I am magnificent, then you are utterly glorious."

"You are bearing this precious life within you. I am merely a vessel through which this miracle came to be."

"You say that as if it weren't important."

"It is, but this child is unlike any other. You carry a being of extraordinary power, and you do so with remarkable grace."

You laughed. "Please tell me she won't suddenly pop out in a matter of days."

His eyebrow raised in confusion. "’Pop out’?"

"I mean, look at Lyta. She became pregnant one day and went into labor almost immediately."

"She conceived with a ghost in dreams, with time itself bending to the will of my realm. She was under the influence of the Vortex, distorting reality in ways that cannot occur to you."

"Well, that's reassuring. I was a bit worried there for a moment… this is your child we're talking about, after all."

His hands resumed their exploration, coming to your chest, your skin warming at the cool contact. “But she is also yours. We shall witness her journey unfold at her own natural rhythm.”

"That is good to know—ah!"

Your body quivered as he reached your breasts, the soft material of your attire grazing your nipples as it gathered around your collarbones. Morpheus' throat bobbed at the sight, your peaks hardening instantly in the cool air.

“Morpheus—”

“Look at you,” he murmured teasingly. “I have barely touched you, my love. And already your body trembles beneath my hands."

"I need more," you purred. "Give it to me, Morpheus."

His temples met yours, sharing the intimate space where adoring sighs met. "Tell me. What fantasies shall I bring to life for you?"

"Just… keep going. Touch every part of me."

"Mh."

Delighting in your need, Morpheus moved lower, leaving your breasts neglected and yearning for his attention. “Perhaps I should begin with these delectable legs of yours.”

His hands slid sensually up your thighs, pausing to rest at your hips, deliberately avoiding where you ached for him the most.

"Or perhaps, this." He caressed your waist, the gesture loving rather than lustful as he finally made direct contact with your swelling. "Here where my creation stirs, a testament of what we have made together."

"I can't wait to see you holding her. The mere thought makes my heart soar."

"For now, I can hold our child through you. Though I suspect her mother has... other needs at this moment."

You exhaled shakily. "As much as I like this... yes. You're driving me crazy."

"Would you prefer I move my hands... higher, my love?"

At last, his palms enclosed around your breasts, caressing them with profound reverence, holding them as if they were precious jewels meant for eternal worship. When his thumbs brushed against the rigid tips, an electric shock surged through your form, intensified by weeks of separation and your heightened sensitivity. His movements were unhurried and precise, setting your nerves ablaze as your impatience mounted at an unbearable speed.

You moaned, your lower lip caught between your teeth. "Y-yes. Exactly like that."

“You are a masterpiece,” he expressed. "Your hair is like molten sunlight."

Remnants of light cascaded along your tresses, flowing downward until they merged into your heart.

“Your neck, so elegant and graceful… a column of pure beauty.”

He punctuated each word with a new kiss, beginning at your hairline and trailing his affections down your cheek before returning to your throat.

“And your breasts… perfection incarnate. Like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked.”

Your heart thundered, its fierce rhythm pounding in your ears.

“Please—”

“Allow your King to take care of you.”

His lips closed around one peak, savoring it with sweet abandon. Gentle, wet sounds were produced as his mouth released and reclaimed each nipple, his desire for you insatiable. You moaned again, your head falling back, fingers clutching the sheets for support. Your skin burned with rosy patches blooming across your body, each sigh and gasp urging him onward.

His measured, languid kisses and licks upon your nipples were earth-shattering, a sensation beyond description.

“You are a temptation I cannot resist,” he said hoarsely, his lips descending, where moments ago his hands had wandered. “So soft. So perfect. Made for me.”

He kissed along your stomach, lingered at your navel, and traced the stretching muscles underneath. "Our child. She dreams even now, fragile as a newly formed star, yet far more formidable than we can imagine."

You stroked his hair, noticing how his right hand grasped your knee, guiding your legs further apart. "She is the daughter of the Lord of Dreams. Of course she'll become invincible."

"And with you as her mother, no being would dare stand against her."

"Ah!"

Your hips jerked and twisted as his middle and forefinger captured your clit, still covered by the thin layer of black cotton. He moved them in tentative circles, causing you to writhe and groan, the amethysts above glittering and chiming like magical bells in response.

His fingers curled under the elastic bands, holding their position. “May I?”

With a mere thought, he could have made the garment vanish into a swirling cloud of sand, no questions asked, leaving you bare and exposed without preambles.

"I love how thoughtful you are with me, but you can do anything, Morpheus. Right now... I just want you to take the damn thing off and make me scream."

A deep, guttural growl rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed against your inner thigh in appreciation, his gaze perpetually fixed on yours. Holding your panties on both sides, he slid them down your hips excruciatingly slowly, trailing the silken fabric along your legs and past your ankles. The motion was sinuous and erotic, yet incredibly grounding and absolutely right.

Letting the undergarment drop to the floor, Morpheus beheld your form with such zeal that for a moment, words failed him entirely. You were like a sacred sanctuary, an unyielding storm that bends but never breaks, a goddess carved in time and space. You were living poetry, a flame that set his endless world alight.

No sculptor's chisel nor painter's brush could capture the spectacle laid out upon these celestial sheets. Your chest rose and fell more rapidly, the nightgown still bunched above your breasts, leaving them bared. Your clit pulsed with irrepressible urgency, beckoning him to feast upon the divine offering in front of him, like a pearl in moonlight.

And so, drawn by your silent invitation, Morpheus lowered himself to your center, his tongue ravenous to taste. Your eyes rolled shut, head pressed into the pillow, your legs quaking as your fingers wove through his hair. He was relentless, his tongue exploring and consuming, one hand settling protectively over your abdomen as the other gripped your thigh.

"A-ah! Morpheus, I... wait—"

You were already about to tumble over the edge, faster than you had thought possible. He didn't cease, merely responding with a deep "Mmh" while increasing both pressure and pace. You cried out, gripping his hair as pleasure-filled moans escaped your lips, your voice climbing higher.

It crashed over you like an unstoppable cyclone, your orgasm bursting forth unrestrained and overwhelming in its raw power. Your body tensed and shuddered as his mouth coaxed every wave of pleasure, from the apex of euphoria to the sweet, lingering aftershocks.

Spent and breathless, you collapsed onto the bed, your limbs heavy and tingling. Your cheeks tinted with a deep scarlet, your hands covering your face in shy embarrassment.

Your voice emerged muffled, barely audible through your fingers. "I'm so sorry..."

"Why do you apologize, my love?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"I didn't mean to finish so quickly."

With a gentle smile, he grasped your wrists and moved your hands away from your face, revealing your wide, teary eyes. "You are exquisite in your vulnerability, my sweet."

"I am not," you pouted, lips forming a delicate frown.

"You deserve every moment of pleasure. After all, I am the King of Dreams - it is my privilege to fulfill your deepest longings. To care for you as I could not during our time apart. And now that you have returned to me, I shall ensure you want for nothing."

A peaceful sigh escaped you as your body surrendered into contentment. "You always know exactly what to say."

"And I will tell you more, praise you, cherish you, through all the days to come."

You pulled him down into a kiss, tasting your own essense on his lips as he positioned himself above you, your legs parted on either side. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, yet he remained patient, awaiting your consent, relinquishing all control.

Your hand brushed along his shoulder, sliding over the thin material of his shirt until reaching its edge. You let your fingers slip under the hem, grazing his lean muscles, pale skin against ebony clothes, which contracted at the slight caress. Then, you deftly undid his trousers, his manhood meeting your touch as you proceeded, proud and erect for you to receive.

"Do you think I will be a good mother?" you asked him, wrapping your palm around his shaft, finally free from its restraint.

"You are going to be extraordinary. Of that, I have no doubt. Mh—"

"I could never do this with anyone but you."

Directing his length to your entrance, you held him there for a heartbeat, balanced at the threshold.

His patience had worn thin, his body trembling with restraint. “I must confess, I find my resolve has reached its end. In fact, I cannot wait any longer.”

You grinned, moistening your lips as he eased himself between your folds, just enough for his tip to be enveloped by your heat.

“I wish to claim you as mine. Will you grant me this?”

"Morpheus, honestly!” You laughed, overcome with infinite love for this being between your legs as you clutched the shawl collar of his coat. “What more do you need me to say? I'm already taking you inside me and have no intention of stopping. Just do it, claim me. There's nothing I want more than this, more than you."

At that, Morpheus' resistance finally crumbled, leaving only an insatiable craving for you and his own physical need. With a rough, powerful thrust, he entered your body to the hilt, making you whimper and convulse. His pelvis established a rhythmic motion, tranquil at first, only to inevitably quicken at the incessant sound of your moans.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting his movements as your lips and tongues melded together in a battle of dominance, one neither of you was truly willing to win.

“Tell me, my love. Is this to your satisfaction?”

You were in absolute ecstasy, your inner walls clenching and tightening around him with each thrust, sweeping away every ounce of decorum. "Yes! You are incredible. Harder!"

"Harder?"

"Please."

His length twitched and pulsed, joining with you like two pieces of one whole. "If that is what you wish."

Morpheus obliged, shifting his position before driving into you with breathtaking force. His arms held you with fierce desperation, as if you might dissolve into mist and leave him stranded in desolate loneliness. He rocked against you with deep, commanding movements, his ragged breaths and growls filling your ear.

You were the light that pirouetted through his shade, divinity wrapped in mortal form. He wanted to map constellations on your skin, every inch of your being, immersing himself in your brilliance.

“So tight, so wet. All mine.”

"I absolutely am. Forever and always. I've been yours from the beginning, even when I didn't know you; when you were nothing more than a fairy story."

He slowed momentarily, sweeping the hair from your face, shaking with bridled eagerness. "You have brought me to my knees. Even my realm holds no sway in your presence."

You inhaled, adjusting your position, pushing your legs further up around his hips and crossing your ankles against his lower back.

He resumed, pushing in and out of you with demanding insistence. "Your voice echoes through the endless halls of my castle. Love me, crave me, call out for me."

"Yes, yes! I love you, Morpheus. I love you so much. I'm so close—I can feel it building. Please don't stop."

"I shall see you through to the very end," he promised. "Let me feel every tremor, every wave of your ecstasy. Give yourself to me and I shall take you beyond the confines of dreams."

"You do that every day, even in absence—ngh! Ah, Morpheus!"

"Yes... surrender everything to me."

The wet sounds mingled with the crystal chimes as you both teetered on the edge of rapturous release. His fingers found their way back to your chest, teasing your nipple with a delicate squeeze. As that familiar tension coiled at your core, you reached down to rub your clit, synchronizing with the rhythm of his thrusts until the combined sensations built into an exquisite crescendo that would utterly shatter you.

"Seeing you writhe in my arms, pleasuring yourself before me... you are nothing short of sublime."

“Oh….!”

And then it arrived, just as powerful as the first, a climax that made your toes curl and eyes shut in exhilaration. Your hand closed around his, holding it against your breast as your body gave in, tightening around him in pulsing contractions.

His hips bucked wildly, his own limit approaching. “I—I… I-”

"Do it, please!"

With that, his body heated up as his pleasure erupted forward like a cosmic flare. He stared at you, presenting the most splendid sight of the Dream Lord lost in pure delight, jerking and filling you with the warmth of his seed. He was gorgeous, enticing in every way conceivable, your fingers still circling your sensitive nub to savor the last ripples of your orgasm, until you could take no more.

When at last you both stilled, a peaceful silence fell between you, wrapped in your embrace and sharing gentle kisses. You listened attentively to the soundscape outside, from the distant dragon's passage to the dream choruses and soft turn of pages.

"That was… wow," you revealed, panting.

"Was it?"

"Mm-hmm. Amazing."

"You are marvelous, my Queen," he intoned. "Making love to you is my greatest indulgence."

"’Queen’," you mused. "I rather like that."

“You are. My magnificent goddess of light. My everything.”

Shifting to sit up, his softening length slipping from you, you took his face between your hands and looked at him with the brightest of smiles. "I don't know how I became worthy of your love, but I wouldn't trade this life for any other."

"Worth is hardly sufficient to describe you, my love. You would bring even the mightiest beings to submission."

"I don't care for other beings, I only want to be with you."

"You have me. I am yours, irrevocably."

You guided his hand to rest upon your abdomen, pressing your lips to his shoulder through the woolen material of his coat. Your nightgown pooled delicately at your waist as he stroked your hair, his fingers grazing your neck while keeping his head against yours.

In the tranquil moments that followed, quiet spoke more than words as the Dreaming bore witness to your souls inexorably intertwined, a new life flourishing and linking the mortal and immortal realms as one.

"Bloody hell, you're joking, right?"

You chuckled, shaking your head, holding the phone between your ear and shoulder as you washed mugs. "I assure you, I am not. Why would I jest about such a matter?"

"How is it you've got every bloody mystical creature in creation flockin' to your doorstep?"

"Trust me, I haven't a clue. But honestly, at this point, I couldn't care less."

"Well, at least he's got his marbles back in order. It feels like a great stone's been lifted off my chest, if I'm being honest."

"I'm sorry for worrying you so much."

"Don't give it another thought, Shortcake. Not like you went looking for all that rubbish to begin with."

After turning off the water and drying your hands, you returned to the living room. "I honestly don't know what I would have done these past few weeks without you."

"Listen love, you can always count on me, yeah? No questions needed."

Lying on the couch, you grimaced faintly. "I know. I'm incredibly grateful to have you in my life."

“I heard that.”

"Hmm? Heard what?"

"You're not feeling well again, are you? That little noise you made there, clear as day."

Stroking your stomach, you let out a wry laugh. "I've felt dreadful ever since I came back. I suspect it's my little one making her displeasure known."

"I have no clue how all this dream business works, but couldn't you have stayed with him for a bit longer?"

"Oh, he wanted me to. In fact, he asked me to stay until the baby is due."

"And you went and turned him down? That's a bit of a bold move."

You laughed. "Despite his brooding, he was quite understanding. Even though I could stay there without time affecting our world much, I can't just return with a newborn out of thin air. Besides, I have work to accomplish here and now. He accepted to let me get my stuff in order back home, at least for today."

"Right then, makes sense. Though I'll admit, I’m a bit surprised he didn't put up more of a fuss, knowing him as I do."

"He's changed, Hob. He's truly giving it his all."

“I can see that.”

"It would be in your best interest, and that of our child, to remain here in The Dreaming. I am... concerned for your wellbeing."

"Morpheus, you know I love being here with you, but I have responsibilities in the Waking World."

Though expected, your answer still made him frown. "As you know, the rules of time and space bend differently here in my domain. You need not sacrifice your mortal obligations."

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you fixed the collar of his coat, brushing your nose against his cheek. "I know, but how would I explain the baby to anyone else? Using a cryptic pregnancy excuse isn't a solution."

You could see the disappointment forming on his face, his typical moping cat look returning.

"Okay, listen," you said, taking his hands in yours. "I love that you want to be there for me throughout the entire pregnancy, it means more to me than words can express. You and the Dreaming are my home now, that cannot be denied.”

"I fear your mind is made up on this matter."

"It is, but I want you to be part of this journey. You're the father, I would never exclude you."

After a thoughtful pause, Morpheus relented. "Very well. But I propose a compromise, my love."

"What kind of compromise?"

"I would ask two things of you: that you allow Matthew to watch over you when I cannot be present... and that you return to me each night in The Dreaming. Not in slumber, but in your conscious form."

You nodded. "That sounds reasonable. But I can't travel between realms on my own. Are you suggesting you'll come fetch me yourself?"

“Yes.”

Your eyes grew wide with astonishment. "You would do that? Come for me every single day? Accompany me back and forth when I have work and commitments?"

"Such a simple task means nothing. I would traverse the very fabric of existence for you."

"You're sweet, but I would never want to take you away from the Dreaming. I know there's still so much to rebuild after all that happened."

Like you, Morpheus proved to be equally stubborn. "You need not concern yourself with that. I simply wish for you to live the life you choose, both in the Waking World and here, with me."

"Even if that means dividing your time between realms?"

"Time spent in your presence is never wasted, my love."

You kissed him, nearly mimicking Ella's happy dance while restraining your elation, clinging to his shoulders as joy sparkled in your eyes. Still, Morpheus' satisfaction shone through in his smile, holding you in place.

"Then, my King, I’d say we have an agreement."

He drew you closer by your waist, his spirit visibly brightening. "Excellent."

"Oi, love? You still with me?"

"Ah, yes, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment."

"Right then, gonna let you get some rest now. Give me a shout if you need anything, yeah?"

You stretched out on the couch, gently rotating your ankles. "Of course, thank you so much, Hob."

“Oh, and Y/N…. I meant to ask….”

“Yes?”

"Have you run into any other odd characters lately? Besides all them supernatural beings you've been telling me about."

You rubbed your chin pensively. "Odd? Well, I've seen plenty of weird things, but nothing particularly unusual comes to mind. Why do you ask?"

"Ah, well..."

You waited patiently as he hesitated before continuing, his response coming as a rushed and obviously dishonest explanation. "Nevermind then. Just me rambling on like a right old fool."

"Wait, what—?"

"I'll be checking up on you soon."

The call ended abruptly before you could inquire further, leaving you contemplating his unexpected behavior. His tone had carried a distinct note of concern - something that, given your recent experiences, warranted further investigation.

You started browsing through TV programs to occupy your evening, barely paying attention to what was playing on the screen. The more you contemplated the situation, the more questions arose about the implications of Hob’s allusion.

You sat up straight, the movie in the background now forgotten. "That was peculiarly strange, even for him."

To complicate matters even more, the next workday began with quite an unexpected turn of events.

You had just settled at your desk and powered up your equipment, preparing the day's schedule and upcoming executive briefing when a sudden commotion disrupted the studio's serene atmosphere. A sharp cry was followed by the forceful closing of a door, echoing through the corridor and making your skin crawl. Upon investigating, you observed several colleagues congregating near the restroom entrance, worriedly looking at the scene before them.

Confused, you tentatively approached the assembly, Oliver's voice rising above the hushed whispers. "Ella, sweetheart. Please, let's talk about this."

Amanda was standing behind the CEO with a brewed cup of coffee in her hand. As you moved beside her, you asked, "What's happening here, Amy? Is Ella all right?"

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "I have no clue. She just bolted to the bathroom like lightning, and I'm pretty sure she was crying. What on earth could be wrong this early in the morning?"

Oliver continued to knock, but no reply came from the other side. "Ella, I know this is difficult, but please. Don't shut me out."

As the tension in the area visibly escalated, Amanda intervened with a rough throat-clearing sound. "Everyone, let's give them some space, shall we?" She prompted the group to disperse, making sweeping motions as if creating an invisible shield around the CEO. "This isn't something we should eavesdrop on. Come on, back to work."

Although they all seemed deeply concerned about Ella's state of mind, after exchanging a few silent glances, they eventually returned to their respective posts, with only Freya staying behind. She was visibly distressed, letting out a deep breath as she gave your wrist a light squeeze. "Please keep me updated, and don't hesitate to call if you guys need anything."

You nodded firmly, watching her walk away with increasing apprehension. Meanwhile, Oliver sighed in frustration, resting his forehead against the door in complete resignation, his fist bumping softly upon the wooden surface.

Amy gave your shoulder an encouraging pat and smiled warmly before taking her leave, the coffee now cold, her typically sophisticated poise evident as she departed. The moment felt ominous, leaving you uncertain whether to intervene.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out, brushing your hand over Oliver's elbow, cocking your head questioningly. "Oliver? Maybe this is none of my business, but... what's going on?"

He closed his eyes, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping for a different outcome."

"I don't understand."

"She... she received some bad results, Y/N."

"Bad results?"

"Wait, she didn't tell you?"

"She hasn't mentioned any of this to me. Medical results? Is that what you're referring to?"

He paced anxiously back and forth, massaging the back of his neck. "We’ve been trying for so long to…" He faltered, his words trailing away into stillness.

"I had no idea she was sick. Is this serious?"

"It’s not physically dangerous for her, but... emotionally, that's another matter entirely. She had such high hopes, we both did. I just don't know what to do now."

You rubbed your temple. "I'm a bit confused."

"Y/N, I hate to put this on you, but I could really use your help. You're the only one I can turn to."

"What can I do?"

He swiveled toward the door, his eyes red and distraught. "I think I’m the last person she wants to see at the moment. Perhaps she'll listen if you talk to her."

“I can try.”

Oliver stepped aside, muttering a "thank you," and allowed you to take his place by the door. His breathing was unsteady as you gently knocked several times, the bathroom remaining silent, with no word spoken from inside.

After a brief pause, you announced your presence, calling your friend quietly. "Ella? It's me. May I come in?"

You listened at the entrance, catching the faint sound of footsteps on the other side. When you heard the lock click, careful to keep the hallway hidden from view, you exchanged a knowing look with Oliver, which he answered with a tight smile. Ella didn't appear, but her gesture came as an invitation, meant only for you to take.

You stepped into the restroom, securing the door behind you. Ella stood hunched over one of the sinks, her blonde hair falling forward to obscure her face as soft sobs escaped her lips.

Your heart ached with compassion as you placed a gentle hand on her back. "Ella, please tell me what this is about."

"He didn't say anything?" she asked, sniffling.

"No. I think he wanted you to tell me yourself."

She shook her head vigorously, tears streaming down her face. "I shouldn't be telling you this, not now."

"Why not? If you're worried I'll panic at the news, please don't be. Whatever it is, I'll need to face it eventually, and I refuse to let you go through this alone."

The more she tried to speak, the more her desperation took over. "No, it's not that. I know how you are, I don't want you feeling guilty about my situation."

"Guilty? Why?"

"Because you always put others before yourself. I can’t ruin your happiness."

You turned her to face you, brushing the unkempt hair aside, her eyes now rimmed with smudged mascara. "Stop. Just tell me already."

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. "I'm your boss, remember? You don't get to give me orders."

"We stopped being boss and employee the moment I walked through that door. Think of it like we're back in secondary school, hiding in the bathroom and crying over our problems."

She hiccupped, pressing her hand to her mouth. "Sometimes I wish we could just go back to those days. It seemed so much easier then, when all we had to worry about was which dress to buy or how awful our dates happened to be."

You chuckled, rubbing her shoulders in a soothing motion. "Come on, tell me what's wrong."

She looked at you with trembling lips, fresh tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks in rivulets. "Promise me you won't start blaming yourself."

"I don't even know what you think I should feel guilty about."

"Fine, okay." She inhaled shakily, her nails absently scratching at her hand. "Oliver and I... we've been trying to have a baby for quite some time now. It just hasn't worked."

Oh.

"At first, I thought it was low probability, bad luck or incorrect hormone calculations. But after a while, we suspected something wasn't right."

The realization struck you like a thunderbolt, draining all color from your face.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! See? I knew you'd react this way!"

"I didn’t say anything," you protested.

"That's not necessary, your face says it all. Y/N, I really can't handle this right now."

"Okay okay, I’m sorry. So you underwent medical tests," you concluded. "And received the results today?"

She grimaced as all her attempts to contain herself proved futile. "I'm not physically able to have children. I don't really understand all the terminology in these tests, but… all I know is that my body is broken, and I can't get pregnant, Y/N. Not now, probably not ever."

The breath rushed from your lungs, rendering you paralyzed on the spot. "Please don't say that. You're not broken."

"No? Then what am I? I just wanted to have a family with the man I love. To give Oliver the child he's always wanted. What's left for us now? What am I supposed to offer him?"

"Your heart, Ella. He married you because he loves you for who you are, not because he saw you as a means to have children."

She let out a bitter laugh. "But that's also why he married me! We talked about this years ago. We both wanted the same future; to settle down, have kids, build our family together alongside our business. And now it's just us, with no hope of growing larger. Because I'm bloody defective."

"Stop it, you're not some malfunctioning machine. And regardless of what these test results say, you can't give up hope like this."

She crumpled against the wall, crouching down. "What do you suggest then? That I keep deceiving myself? Pretend the problem isn't there?"

You knelt before her, taking her hands in a firm grip. "No, but many women have conceived even when doctors said they couldn't. There are countless stories like this, Ella. Medical conditions can be unpredictable. Just because you can't become a mother right now doesn't mean it's impossible forever."

"You didn't even see the results."

"I don't need to."

She scoffed. "This isn't the time to make light of your ‘gut feeling’ again."

"When have I ever joked about it? After everything you've witnessed, do you really think I'm making fun of you about something this dire?"

She pondered your words, her eyes flickering with uncertainty.

"Ella, I've learned so much this year. I've experienced things beyond what anyone would believe possible, and I fell in love in the most unconventional way, with someone who makes every single day of my life a wonder. Literally."

Her eyes and nose were an angry red. "I know you're experiencing things beyond my understanding, and I'm happy for you. But I'm not like you—I'm just ordinary. My life is mundane, filled with daily struggles."

"And you think mine isn't? There might be some magic in my life, but it's not as if everything automatically transforms into sunshine and butterflies. A car nearly hit me head-on a few nights ago, and that could have cost me more than I dare to think about."

Her eyes widened in shock, her back straightening. "Wait, what??"

Gently easing her back down to a seated position, you steered the conversation back to its original focus, not wanting to derail the matter at hand with tales of your own mishaps. "The bottom line is, life is a rollercoaster, Ella. Sometimes we rise, sometimes we fall, but we always find our way back up again."

"What if I truly can't have children? What then?”

"There are different paths you can explore."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I know we could adopt, but I really want to have Oliver's baby. Does that make me selfish?"

"No, it only makes you human. And as such, you feel."

When her gaze lifted, transfixed and solemn as she peered into your eyes with rapt attention, her fingers lay still against her thighs. She was perfectly motionless, absorbing every word with an almost trance-like focus.

"Here you were, suffering in silence, yet you still managed to be genuinely excited about my pregnancy."

"Of course I did. I am happy for you, truly… I only wish I could share it with you. How wonderful would that be, going through such a miracle together, watching our children become best friends?"

Rising to your feet, you assisted Ella to a standing position as she regained her precarious balance. You proceeded to dampen a cloth and cleanse her face, carefully removing the traces of mascara before they set. "Now, that would be such a wonderful dream, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she replied, her eyes still set on your face. "It would be one hell of a legacy."

"Like I said, don't let these test results define your future. Do more checks if necessary. Keep trying. Be the same, exceptional woman that I always admired, the one Oliver is so desperately waiting for outside."

Gradually, her composure returned as the tears subsided and her trembling ceased. She regained her professional posture, examining herself in the mirror while smoothing her hair and adjusting her suit with practiced precision.

"Then I suppose I should give it my all, right?"

"That's exactly what I want to hear. Go to your husband, talk to him. We'll keep producing, creating, and transforming; the fashion world as much as our own lives. Keep your head high and stay confident that everything you wish for will find its way to you."

Finally, a wide grin spread across her lips, contrasting sharply with her earlier despair. "When did we switch roles? You’ve become so wise I can barely recognize you. Who are you and what did you do to Y/N?"

"I told you. Everything changed for me last summer."

"Well then. If I ever meet your boyfriend again, I'd love to shake his hand."

Smoothing her attire, she strode toward the exit, her stilettos clicking crisply against the porcelain tiles. As she disengaged the latch and the barrier swung ajar, she paused mid-step, then gracefully rotated to face you one final instance. Her visage reflected tranquility and wonderment, blending into an expression you'd never previously witnessed.

"By the way, Y/N…"

"Hmm?"

She took a measured breath, collecting her thoughts before speaking. "Do you know that you're literally glowing?"

Your brows knitted together in confusion. "Glowing?"

Ella said nothing more, only held her smile as she left you alone in the restroom, the voices outside now muffled by the door. Frozen in place, you glanced down at your hands, observing that the familiar golden luminescence had returned once again. Your skin emanated a radiance reminiscent of candlelight, as glowing streams of energy permeated through the fabric of your shirt.

Then you caught sight of it in your reflection—a spark in your eyes that made you jump in shock. Mouth agape, you blinked several times hoping to see it disappear, shaking your hands as you frantically tried to will the power away.

"No, no, no, no, this can't be happening now. Not here."

You turned your palms upward and applied cold water, waiting for it to take effect. The light began to fade, dissipating like liquid along your skin. Unfortunately, your irises retained their glow, and as you studied them in the mirror, you noticed how they seemed to dance and shift, creating an overlay of color that moved in perfect synchronization with your eye structure.

It took you a good half an hour for them to readjust, the light slowly retracting and melting like glitters scattered in the wind, leaving no trace of its supernatural display.

Throughout the entire workday, you had been more than just on edge; you were practically vibrating with terror. Despite your nerves, the executive briefing proved remarkably productive, and the fact that you managed to remain seemingly calm during the presentation was nothing short of miraculous.

In truth, you feared your awakened abilities would suddenly unlock themselves anew during the meeting, causing you to light up like a human LED in front of the attendees. Fortunately, your physical appearance remained stable with no visible changes, allowing you to keep a properly collected facade.

Ella remained discreet, sending occasional smiles your way. You noticed her and Oliver sharing private conversations during their breaks, exchanging soft touches, loving glances, and brief kisses. Wanting to give them space, you quietly slipped out of the studio at the end of your shift, making your way down the street and across the park.

The breeze ruffled your hair as you breathed in the fragrant scents of nature, reflecting on the day's events and all they entailed. Though you had tried to be supportive in the restroom, Ella's revelation now weighed heavily on your mind, and you deeply regretted sharing your embryo scan. It was difficult to witness her struggling with infertility while your own pregnancy had occurred spontaneously and unexpectedly, without any prior intention or preparation. Her genuine smile and enthusiastic celebration of the news, with that glint of happiness in her eyes, showed what a truly extraordinary person she was.

And in turn, the mere thought left you feeling utterly wretched.

As you rummaged through your bag for your phone, a golden spark emanated from your fingertips and struck the inside, causing it to glimmer momentarily. You stopped walking, raising your hand to observe as the glow rapidly spread from your nails, illuminating your entire palm to your wrist.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

As passersby walked along the treated path, you tucked your hand into your jacket and kept your head low, feeling a strange warmth forming in your eyes again. You ran aimlessly through the park, not watching where you were going, taking random turns down the most deserted walkways you could find. You were distancing yourself quite considerably from the underground station, but with your current condition, being surrounded by rush hour crowds seemed ill-advised.

In the distance, a child pointed toward you as you rushed past, trying to get his mother's attention, who was thankfully absorbed in her phone conversation and failed to notice your hurried form. Your hand tightened into a fist, and the trapped light shone through your jacket, making the fabric appear see-through.

You quickened your pace, desperate to find somewhere to hide, when you nearly collided with someone who had just blocked the way. You were about to stammer an apology and rush past, but then a voice—the most soothing, grounding voice—spoke your name like a balm.

Morpheus.

Your eyes met as he studied you intently, his hands tucked in the pockets of his Waking World attire, his cerulean gaze shifting from your hidden fist to the golden ring in your irises.

“My love.”

Finally pulling your hand free, you extended it toward him with a pleading look. Appearing lost, scared, and confused, your voice cracked with insecurity. "What should I do?"

Without second thought, Morpheus silently took your hand, bringing it to his lips as they brushed against your luminous knuckles. You stared, barely blinking, his presence alone calming your nervousness; the way he brought your hand to his face, guiding it to rest against his cheek, was more comforting and invigorating than any spoken reassurance.

Then your surroundings began to shift. The lush greenery of the park dissolving into opalescent walls and columns, the atmosphere dimming to reveal candlelight dancing through colored glass windows. The soil beneath your feet transformed into marble, while the fresh scent of leaves and resin gave way to mineral undertones, crisp ozone, and the rich fragrances of sandalwood, myrrh, and black amber.

You sighed in relief, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone, as golden filaments floated in the air before erupting into a glittering cloud. The light in your hand dimmed to nothing, leaving your skin with its natural hue.

Just like that, the phenomenon vanished for the second time.

"This could have gone terribly wrong," you said with a wry chuckle. "Thank you for finding me."

"I sensed your anguish rippling through the Dreaming, my love. Your essence called to me across the realms."

"I started glowing like a lamp right in front of my friend at work today, and I'm fortunate it was her who witnessed it rather than someone else. I have no idea what's happening."

"Your light grows, it flows through you now like sand through an hourglass. Though untamed at present, with time and patience, you will learn to bend it to your will."

"What if I cannot control it?"

"The question is not whether you can control it, but how magnificently you shall wield it."

Exhausted, you rested your head against his shoulder, savoring the comfort of his vicinity. "Unlike you, I'm not accustomed to being magical, Morpheus."

"You have always possessed this power within yourself. Your emotions give it strength, and here, in my realm, you may find peace while mastering it."

"Right," you said pensively. "I doubt I could do it in the Waking World. The last thing I need is to accidentally fry all my appliances. Or worse, bring down the entire building."

"I will teach you to harness this power, but for that, you must remain here, in the Dreaming."

"I can't risk becoming a freak show, so… I’ll stay."

You could sense his exultation, almost imperceptible, as his arms tightened around you. "Then, let me guide you through this. Allow me to remain at your side, for as long as you need."

You smiled contentedly as his fingers threaded through your hair, his deep voice a melodic rumble against your ear as you wrapped your arms around his torso. "If you think I'll ever stop needing you, you are deeply mistaken."

The waterfall in Fiddler's Green created a mesmerizing sensory backdrop, your eyes drifting shut as the gentle breeze of the Dreaming whispered across your features and danced through your clothes. Your hands were lifted before you, palms upturned, a frown creasing your forehead.

You grunted, letting your arms drop to your sides. "This is ridiculous. Why does it only come to me when I don't need it, but never when I want it?"

"Such mastery requires time," Morpheus intoned. "Your light moves in synchronicity with your soul."

"I don't know... I've been trying for two hours straight, and I haven't seen even a single spark."

He took a step forward, taking hold of your hands. "My love, do not strain against it. Let it flow as water finds its path, and it will come to you."

You sighed. "It's just... I'm afraid I might accidentally hurt someone, even you."

"Your light flows from a place of love. It cannot bring harm."

"It may be innocuous now, but you mentioned it's growing stronger. And if I can't even make it appear at will, what's going to happen the next time my eyes light up?"

Morpheus' thumbs gently traced the insides of your wrists, anchoring you to the present moment. "Y/N, you will not hurt anyone, so long as your heart remains aligned with compassion. That is your core, my love. It is your truth."

"And if that’s not enough? I don’t come from power. I wasn’t born to rule anything."

"No," he agreed, eyes deep and glinting like pale blue galaxies. "Not to rule, but to change."

You blinked at him, your breath catching as his palm descended to rest against your sternum.

"Your light did not awaken because of error, but because you love, fiercely and selflessly. Do not seek control through fear."

"How should I do it?"

"Close your eyes."

You lowered your eyelids, obedient to his request.

"Now… breathe. Remember the first time you felt it stir."

You recalled the first awakening, occurring in the midst of your separation from the Dream Lord. As Astra began to deteriorate and fade from the Dreaming, the prospect of losing him—as you had lost the one you loved—paired with witnessing the realm's potential collapse, had made your heart clench with unbearable sorrow.

Morpheus leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours. "There. Do you feel it, my love?”

"Yes..."

It had come during various significant moments: while immersed in the ocean of your private land, and when restoring vitality to Morpheus' mighty creation reduced to dried, rotten scales due to the Endless’ despair. Through this mystical energy, you forged an inexplicable bond with the ancient Book of Paradoxes, revealing transformative wisdom that paved the path to your destined reunion.

But your memory dug deeper, back in time and to that distant day in the basement, when your hand touched Morpheus' through the glass; so close yet so far apart. You had felt it even then, the same warmth expanding through your limbs, permeating your body with liquid gold. It wasn't just a visualization, a metaphor, or a feeling... it was, as you now realized, something far more powerful and significant.

Your eyes pressed tightly shut, golden light blooming from your fingertips at last, soft and pure, spiraling like threads. It wrapped around your joined hands in powerful swirls, your chest lighting up at heart level, where his hand connected with it.

You could see the bright glow expanding. You gasped, eyes flying open. "It worked..."

Morpheus grinned, prideful and ecstatic. "As I knew it would."

The moment he stepped back, you raised your arms with flowing elegance. The light responded to your mental commands, streaming naturally with your movements. It merged seamlessly with your golden bracelets, causing the metal to radiate with an intensity rivaling daylight.

Little by little, the glow dissipated, leaving behind tiny sparkles that settled onto the grass, making it rustle in the wind that formed.

"Your emotions... they are what fuels your light, what gives it power," he explained. "When in doubt, your heart holds the answer."

"Or I can simply think of you, and that will calm everything down," you said with a smile.

He approached again, reaching for your abdomen, where your Little Star was peacefully developing under his amiable care. "Or perhaps that, if you wish."

With an overjoyed squeal, you leapt into his arms, wrapping yourself around him like a vine.

With consistent practice and Morpheus' expert guidance, mastering control over your light became increasingly effortless, though occasional spontaneous outbursts and persistent illumination still occurred on their own. The Dreaming's influence had the power to pacify your nerves, its restorative energy recharging your spirit. Time seemed to move at a languid pace, with both day and night taking on the uncanny quality of a waking dream.

The denizens of the realm were all taking a liking to your physical presence among them, Abel and Cain being particularly overjoyed at the news of your pregnancy. They were elated, vying with one another to shower you with attention and provide you and your unborn child with every imaginable luxury. Their smiles were infectious, as they presented wonderful blends of aromatic tea alongside homemade confections that surpassed any earthly bakery's creations.

Although the Lord of Dreams had previously fathered the ill-fated Orpheus, his son's demigod heritage and mortal upbringing in the Waking World with Calliope meant he never truly inhabited the realm of dreams. Thus, your child, being innately connected to the Dreaming itself, represented an unprecedented and outstanding addition to the domain. Despite being merely a tiny speck of life in your womb, your daughter was already the talk of the dream folk, who considered he a harbinger of renewal and abundance for their world.

In addition to your light training sessions, Morpheus dedicated considerable time to enriching your stay in the Dreaming and making each moment unforgettable. During one such occasion, he led you through unexplored regions of the Palace; a labyrinth of chambers, curated to reflect your personal aesthetic and interests. Every alcove, window seat, and reading nook bore your distinctive imprint, from the arrangement of cushions to the carefully selected books, as though the castle itself had anticipated your arrival and morphed itself accordingly.

The two of you approached an enigmatic entryway that commanded attention, with a majestic door whose towering frame was beautifully carved and decorated with intricate celestial etchings. Golden patterns were covering the surface, reminiscent of swirling cosmic nebulae that danced over the ornate woodwork.

With a regal gesture, Morpheus beckoned you to cross its threshold. "I want you to find your place here. To have a sanctuary made from dreams, where fragments of the Waking World may take root."

Curious, you ventured into the room, your senses overwhelmed by the bright sunlight that filtered through the windows, bathing the space in a welcoming embrace. As your eyes adjusted, you were immediately awestruck by its contents and design, leaving you breathless and incredulous at the amount of detail and consideration that clearly went into its forging.

The room had been neatly arranged into a sophisticated atelier, rivaling any high-end fashion studio in the mortal dimension. An array of elegant bust mannequins stood at attention, while a pristine canvas awaited on a wooden easel. The main workstation displayed an impressive collection of fabrics in unique colors and textures, complemented by an assortment of precious gemstones and professional tools, all carefully curated for your artistic endeavors.

"Morpheus, I..." You stammered. "This is..."

"I understand how important your craft is to you, my love. I wish for you to continue creating, even here, in my realm. Your visions will take shape, and your creativity shall know no bounds."

"I'm at a loss for words. You've given me so much... I don't deserve all this."

His smile had become a near-permanent fixture, rarely fading from his face since you arrived.

"You deserve the universe, my heart. And everything the cosmos has to offer."

"I can barely speak, I... I don't know how to thank you."

"Your happiness is all I require."

Running your fingers across the fabrics displayed on the table, you marveled at their unprecedented quality and softness. Your attention was drawn to an elegantly bound leather notebook positioned discreetly in the corner, its pristine pages awaiting your artistic inspiration.

"Can I really have this room for myself?"

"Everything here belongs to you, and you alone," he reassured in his silken timbre. "Whatever rooms you want, I will create them for you."

Turning to face him, you moved forward with weightless grace, your embroidered dress trailing behind you like a royal gown. "What more could I possibly wish for? Right now, I'd rather have a kiss from my King."

"As many kisses as you wish."

"Don't tempt me like that."

Your lips met his as you emitted a sultry hum, your hands cradling his face on either side. The room filled with the soft echoes of your mouths as a flock of iridescent butterflies drifted through the open windows, their delicate wings catching the light. One butterfly alighted in your hair, transforming into an elegant crystal hairpin that secured a loose strand behind your ear. Another alighted upon your neck, its wings elongating into delicate ribbons that formed an intricate lace choker.

Before you could voice your question, Morpheus answered in advance. "This is a demonstration of what the Dreaming can give you. The realm itself shall be your canvas, transforming your imagination into reality."

You stared at the butterflies with wonderment as they painted a magical path toward the desk. Leaning in, you touched one with your fingertips, causing the delicate creature to pirouette graciously before landing upon your nail, its gossamer legs delicately encircling your skin in a sweet embrace. The wings changed colors in a repeated gradient sequence, rippling across the beautiful membranes.

An unbridled grin lit up your countenance with unrestrained delight. "You know, I was thinking—" you rotated on your heels, hand resting on your abdomen. "—our little one will absolutely love playing here. The Dreaming is truly the most breathtaking playground any child could wish for. And she’s lucky enough to be your daughter."

"It is I who am honored to be the father of this child. She is yours... and mine. The Dreaming is forever changed by her coming."

You kissed his cheek, the butterfly hairpin in your hair scattering rainbows throughout the room, reflections bathing every wall.

In that precious instant, Morpheus moved beyond his mantle as Master of Stories, embodying the dual essence of father and partner, experiencing a sense of wholeness he had never known before—that he had always kept at bay, his pride standing as an obstacle.

And now, those walls had fallen away. For you had become his exception.

Frantic footsteps resounded through the marble hall of the ancient temple. The sky was so bright it needed no sun, its luminosity enveloping the towering structure in natural bloom. Green trees and waterfalls created a paradise-like setting, yet despite this spectacular, mystical vista, Paregoros' mood remained as dark as the blackest night, as barren as the driest desert.

"Wait!"

She stopped abruptly, rolling her eyes, her entire posture exuding irritation. "Don't even try, Damaris."

Damaris sighed, gathering her dress as she descended the stairs. "Look, I understand your perspective."

"Do you? Because from what I recall, you were quite adamant about having her banished."

"We didn't banish her," she pointed out, coming to a stop in front of her. "You know the rules. There was no sign of power in her then, she was just a normal child."

"And now that things have changed, you conveniently want her back? She has built a life for herself in her world. And even beyond it."

Damaris shrugged dismissively. "There was no possible way to foresee this. And besides, you've always distrusted the Endless."

Her voice thundered. "This isn't about Dream, it's about my daughter! I wasn't allowed anywhere near her or the man I loved. You forfeited any right to reclaim her when you left her in the human realm."

"First of all, you made your choice fully aware of the consequences," Damaris said coldly. "You conceived a child with a mortal man even though you knew it was forbidden. I act not on my own accord, but at the will of the High Matrons. And they wish only to guide her, to nurture what she has become."

"Of course they do," Paregoros replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You're expecting the impossible. There's so much more at stake here: her career, her father, her friendships."

"I know we cannot take her against her will, but she still has the chance to make this right."

"You believe she should abandon everything she loves, kneel at your feet and birth a legacy for your ends rather than hers."

"We act in accordance with the laws of divine balance. She is a beacon. Beacons do not belong in shadows."

"Yes. Indeed, they belong to no one—not even you."

Damaris scoffed. "I don't have to tell you what could happen if she stays with him. He was a father once, and look what happened to Calliope’s boy."

Paregoros winced, looking away.

"Do you truly want your daughter to suffer the same fate as her?"

"My daughter is her own person, and though I once had reservations about him, I cannot deny that he has changed."

"Ha! Changed? Oneiros? Don't be absurd. Someone like him is incapable of change. Your daughter possesses something unique, Paregoros. And this child she carries… it's a child of light. We must protect it from Dream's corrupting influence."

"ENOUGH!"

Damaris jolted backward, her eyes wide as saucers.

Paregoros heaved with rage, her eyebrows drawn so tightly together they narrowed her eyes to slits. "I have caused my daughter enough suffering. I would never ask her to endure the same fate I was made to accept, not that I would succeed even if I tried. "

"But it would be different for her, wouldn't it? Unlike you, she would have both her child and her mother by her side. We will present her with this choice regardless of what you wish for, but you could make the process far easier. Need I remind you that you visited her of your own accord when you were meant to keep your distance?"

"Say what you will, I'm washing my hands of this."

Damaris pursed her lips in evident disappointment. "You would rather have her stay in the Dreaming, with a being shaped by solitude and duty? A king who brings storms even in his rare moments of weakness?"

"He has held her when her light faltered, bringing her more joy than she has ever known. Oneiros earned the trust you now seek to barter away.

Damaris pressed her palm against her forehead in exasperation. "Do you even hear yourself? You speak of him with fondness after all his past actions, those horrendous deeds you once condemned. You were the one who didn't want him anywhere near your daughter, were you not? One misstep from him, and she will pay the price. As will the child."

"I don't expect you to understand. Unlike me, you've never been a mother, Damaris." Paregoros folded her arms across her chest, her eyes watering as old memories surfaced. "Seeing Y/N grow up without me was like burning in Hell. I wouldn't wish that on anyone… not even Oneiros or Lucifer themselves.”

"Sentimental as always, but that has already been your downfall once. Compassion or otherwise, it seems your very purpose blinds you to reason."

Paregoros released a mocking laugh. "Compassion doesn’t make me blind; it makes me just. We are concepts that predate language and art. I exist as an amplifier of Aphrodite's and Peitho's gifts, awakening when love is wounded or trust stands on the brink. Power is not something we seek, it is granted when needed."

"Yes, and such power is not his to keep."

"How can you be so insensitive? He remains the father. He would never allow you to keep the child sealed away from his realm."

"Even he must recognize his boundaries within the greater order of things."

"Ah, of course. Everything comes down to rules and order with you. Best of luck with that."

Damaris clicked her tongue. "You know as well as I do. He claimed to love Calliope, but his own pride mattered more than she ever did. And let's not forget how uninvolved he was in Orpheus' life. Or Death. Or in that place in between... whatever remains of him. What makes you think it will be any different with your daughter and grandchild?"

"If he truly didn't care, he would never have returned to her. As for my daughter, she made a conscious choice that requires respect."

"Please. She's merely indulging in her little human crush on a godly being. It must be that charm of darkness that so many mortals seem drawn to nowadays."

Damaris' words dripped like poison, the cruel curve of her lips causing the Daemona to clench her hands into fists, indignation flaring in her expression with renewed ferocity. "How dare you?"

Damaris dramatically responded with a wave of her hand. "Come now, I meant no offense."

"No?"

“I just—”

"You criticize her humanity, yet you seek to confine her power solely to our realm. If you believe my daughter can be swayed from her principles and convictions, that she'll abandon him and take their child away, you're going to hit a brick wall."

Damaris averted her gaze, looking offended. "She was born here. Why should she not return to where she originates from?"

But Paregoros pressed on, her voice sharp with insistence. "Because she's not some tool for you to manipulate. You sent her away at birth for lacking divine power, and now she's transformed into something entirely new. Something unprecedented, beyond any of our understanding."

"That is precisely why we cannot let Oneiros exploit such power."

Paregoros smiled icily, her eyes devoid of compassion for the first time in her eternal existence. "Because you wish to exploit it yourselves, do you not?"

"You—!"

"Fortunately, my daughter has enough wisdom to make her own good decisions, and that won't sit well with you at all."

Her arms fell to her sides as she turned, departing without a backward glance, leaving Damaris behind in her own simmering disdain.

"If you do not intervene, then we must, for their sake."

Though the Envoy remained stationary, her final question could be heard across the widening distance, her voice rising in pitch.

"Would you accept it if she chose the Endless over us? The Dreaming, over Klyseidos?"

Paregoros strode onward, replying with a sardonic gesture. "She already did, Damaris. I'll have to live with it, as will you. Unless, of course, you wish to disrupt the boundaries within the greater order of things yourself."

"And what if she falls?"

"She will rise anew. She always has."

She trotted away with composed dignity, her footsteps resonating through the temple as she made her way through the main entrance and down the road, her jaw held tight as her ire hung in the salty air.

Transitioning back to the Waking World proved to be a strong adjustment, as you wove your mundane existence back into your everyday life. Everything you had learned in the Dreaming's confines had proven invaluable, as your light stayed carefully contained, reappearing only in moments of complete seclusion rather than spilling forth unbidden in the presence of others. Mastering the equilibrium of this newfound capability was still a formidable challenge, but your proficiency in preventing spontaneous illumination at unwanted moments marked undeniable progress in your journey of self-control.

Ella hadn’t mentioned the incident at all, interacting with you as naturally as a spring breeze. You recognized her diplomatic tactfulness, as she was undoubtedly biding her time with characteristic patience, waiting for the perfect occasion to broach the subject. You acknowledged the futility of fabricating pretenses, knowing you had to resort to authenticity.

During your nocturnal sojourn into the dream realm, you encountered Astra in front of an immaculate, crystalline lake nestled within the forest. The creature acknowledged your presence with a welcoming smile, his dark eyes twinkling, while his lustrous coat resembled the finest velvet spun from moonbeams.

"I find you well, Y/N. Finally, we can all breathe a sigh of relief, yes?"

"You can definitely say that again. How is the Dreaming faring?"

"Some areas still show damage from the Vortex’s influence, and well... Lord Morpheus wasn't exactly in the right state to repair them. But I'd say things are returning to their proper order now."

Your lips curved into a serene smile as you acknowledged his words with a graceful inclination of your head. "I suppose it takes time, even for him. Still, the Dreaming feels quite different these days."

"Thanks to a certain someone, I dare say."

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit."

"That's the thing about you; you don't have to try. You complement the Dreaming, us, just as perfectly as you complement him."

Validating Astra's observation, a gentle zephyr wafted through the area, carrying with it an intoxicating fusion of night-blooming flora and amber notes, the aromatic symphony dancing upon the dreaming air. The familiar's face shone with a celestial warmth, suffused with a veneration that mirrored your own deep-seated devotion to him and the tapestry of the Dreaming realm.

"Would you like to walk with me, my lady?" he inquired.

You unfurled the diaphanous layers of your gown, letting the fabric cascade around you in waves as you bowed. "With pleasure."

The forest metamorphosed with each visit, displaying serpentine pathways and sprouting peculiar arbors. Astra's hooves produced melodious whispers against the ground as he accompanied you, while overhead, a spectacle of blue dream auroras painted the sky in waves of chromatic splendor.

"No matter how many times I explore this place, the Dreaming continues to amaze me. I imagine you never grow bored of living in such a wondrous domain."

"It certainly has its perks, being ever-changing."

"You never feel lonely, do you?"

"Not at all, I have plenty of friends here. Animals and creatures of all kinds, even the flowers. You'd be surprised how talkative they can be."

A melodious titter escaped your lips. "I don't think anything could surprise me anymore."

"Says the one who stares at everything with wonder."

"Can you blame me, though? The Waking World has its own little miracles and beauties, but I could never live a life like the one I experience here."

As you walked onward, an inexplicable chill enveloped your arms, while an enigmatic echo traversed among the canopy of leaves, its secrets lost to the winds.

"Did you hear that?"

"I hear many things," Astra said. "At times, you might hear fragments of conversations from other mortals' dreams. The realm never truly falls silent."

"Yes… of course. I might still be on edge after the whole ordeal with the Book of Paradoxes."

"Understandable. That was no trivial matter for any of us."

Desiccated foliage and gnarled twigs shattered under your footfalls, as a thin layer of vapor coiled sinuously along the forest's periphery. That voice returned once more, its ghostly melody moving nearer, threading through the branches until it coalesced into an unmistakable utterance of your name.

"It can't be just me, though, can it? Don't you feel like something is wrong?"

Before the familiar could respond to your inquiry, the fog expanded like a veil spread open, surrounding you at an alarming velocity. It enveloped you in its gelid embrace, bleaching your vision into alabaster nothingness. The ephemeral disturbance, fleeting as a moth's wingbeat, disappeared after a few blinks, yet when clarity returned, the terrain had subtly transformed - an uncanny shift that left the dreamscape feeling inexplicably altered.

"What just happened, Astra?"

An eerie disquietude permeated the atmosphere, casting forth an aura that felt unnatural, even by the standards of the Dreaming realm.

When only silence replied, you turned around. "Astra?"

Your friend had vanished into the haze, dissolved like morning dew, leaving only the faintest echo rebounding from an unfathomable distance. All that was left behind was a haunting emptiness and disquieting trepidation, as your hands instinctively sought refuge around your midsection, cradling the precious life that linked to the Dreaming's pulse.

"Astra!"

Summoning him proved fruitless, as an instinctive premonition told you that your solitary presence was ordained in this barren location, a territory whose nature diverged markedly from the well known imprint of Morpheus' craftsmanship.

“ʸ/ₙ…”

The earlier voice resonated again then, with amplified intensity and unmistakable clarity.

"Cₒₘₑ ₒᵥₑᵣ ₕₑᵣₑ."

After the cryptic tome had been sent into the void between dimensions, you had foolishly assumed that obscure calls would no longer plague your existence. Now, as this dream played like an ominous message from the unknown, your blood ran cold at the unsettling parallels.

Nevertheless, your legs began moving autonomously, guided by a force that pulled you beyond the woodland and brought you face-to-face with a liquid barrier; a vertical expanse of water that resembled a wide curtain made of frosty glass.

In bewilderment, you stared at how it defied gravity, like an ocean's surface standing upright instead of lying flat, stretching toward the sky. A continuous sheet of mist covered its highest reaches, as your reflection deformed in the moving waves in front of you.

Extending your hand toward the wall, you caressed the aqueous surface, feeling its gelatinous texture. With newfound courage, you pushed through the watery blockage to its opposite face, encountering only air—proof that it served as merely a thin partition separating the two places.

Your instincts were imploring you to flee, yet some magnetism anchored you in place. You took your hand out and it was immaculate, dried, with no sign of wetness or freezing. The barrier was neither tangible nor incorporeal, just an abstract construct similar to the ephemeral nature of dreams.

"When in doubt, your heart holds the answer."

With determined momentum, you propelled yourself through the barrier, sensing merely a subtle switch in your environment. Again, your form emerged completely untouched by moisture, and as you regained your posture to observe the translucent wall behind you, a golden radiance suddenly burst out from your palms. You made no attempt to repel it, following the trail it painted on the ground, your eyes scanning the enclosed sanctuary covered in lush greenery.

But your attention was immediately captured by the massive monolith ahead, emblazoned with an ancient glyph which triggered a flash of recent memory. Your heartbeat quickened as anxiety gripped your chest, head moving from side to side in denial.

Moving closer, your light started to fade, converging into an intricate sigil beneath the tome, one you could not recognize.

The tome bore no markings or identifying features to reveal its provenance. With hesitant trepidation, you reached for the cover's edge, and at the slightest contact, the book sprang open of its own accord.

The ordeal appeared to have concluded, yet Destiny unveiled another chapter that you were dreading to live through.

Just as terror began to seize your mind and constrict your slumbering breath, before you could turn and run away, a soft presence made itself known.

"Y/N, do not be afraid."

Your light formed a halo around the monolith, ascending from the ground and creating undefined shapes a few inches away from the massive rock. It was tethered to your outstretched palms suspended in the air, merging into what appeared to be a figure, partially diaphanous.

When the entity materialized completely, you scrutinized its form with mounting stupor. The spectral image, though devoid of distinguishing facial features, bore an uncanny and striking similitude to your physical appearance. You were gazing upon your own doppelganger made of golden light.

"Who... are you?"

Your double stepped forward, its featureless face somehow forming a smile. "I am you - the voice that’s been in your head since time immemorial. I am the whispers in your dreams, the intuition that moves you, your consciousness made real." Its voice was a thunderous symphony, each word in layered tones. "I am the force that flows through your veins, your primordial light, burning bright since the dawn of your creation."

"You... you are my light? You're actually alive?"

"Yes, in a sense. I can only communicate with you through your dreams. This is a sacred place that exists within yourself, one beyond even his reach."

"You mean Morpheus cannot find me here? But the Dreaming belongs to him, it's an extension of himself. There is no place he cannot see."

"Yes, but you are a Dreamwalker, Y/N. You can traverse where no other mortals dare, unlocking dreams that are not necessarily your own. And in doing so, you forge new ones."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "I am a Dreamwalker?"

From ancient lore, you knew that Dreamwalkers were extraordinary souls blessed with the ability to traverse the dreamscape at will during their sleep, and in some special instances, could even breach the veil while conscious through spiritual practices like deep meditation, lucid awareness, or mystical artifacts. Unlike ordinary dreamers who moves aimlessly, a Dreamwalker has the gift to chart their course through the planes, treating the dream realm as intimately as their earthly dwelling.

"From your very first experience here, you navigated this realm without Morpheus aiding you. You discovered the gate, even the main hall of his ruined castle. You wandered freely through Abel's and Cain's territories, found your way into Lyta Hall's lost dream."

"I thought that was the Vortex's doing."

"A Vortex has the power to tear through the fabric of the Dreaming and merge separate dreams into one, but no. That was you."

With a deep breath, you turned your attention back to the glyph etched into the monolith. "What about this symbol, then? What does it mean?"

"This sigil serves as both a key and an anchor."

"What does it unlock?"

The luminous apparition tilted its visage, letting a soft quietude descend between the two of you.

"That is something you must discover when the time is right."

You let out an exasperated scoff. "Seriously? Can't anyone give me a straight answer for once? I'm tired of all these riddles!"

"This isn't a riddle, Y/N. This is your destined revelation."

"Right. What's the point of all this?"

The entity gestured at the marking, illuminating it with heightened vibrance. "You must memorize it. One day, you will need it."

"Why?"

"Because it represents what you are becoming."

"None of this makes sense."

"It will. When the hour folds, it will open. When the thread burns, it will seal. But not yet."

Your eyes blazed with incandescent fury and celestial wrath. "That’s it?"

You turned in a slow circle, your voice rising as irritation bubbled on your skin, the shadowy surroundings now bathed in the brightness of your magic. "Why must it be me? Why can't I just be normal?"

The light flickered. "You seek meaning, but you yourself are meaning."

"I don't even know who, or what, I am anymore."

"You are the question and the answer. You are the line unwritten."

"Oh yes, that makes everything so much clearer, thank you."

The presence, this time, almost sounded amused. "You aren’t prepared to understand."

"Why?" you asked, your voice raw with exasperation.

"Because knowing too much too soon unravels a thread that is already strained. If you pull on it now, it may snap."

"All this talk of 'threads', but threads of what?"

"Of life itself."

Surrendering to the doppleganer’s words, too exhausted to argue about matters that would only add more confusion to your tumultuous mind, you studied the intricate round configurations inscribed into the glyph, sensing its mystical energy intertwining with your force.

"You brought me to this hidden corner of my head, separating me from my familiar. And for what purpose? Just to show me this glyph? What should I do now, then?"

"Live. Create from your imagination. Embrace the infinite depths of love and devotion. But speak of it to no one, not even him."

"Why must I keep this from Morpheus, of all beings?"

"You must walk this path alone, or neither of you will reach its end."

You clutched your pendant, feeling the warmth of your light mingling with the stone's power. "I want complete honesty with him, no secrets between us."

"Still, your silence guards him. You will do the right thing, the only one that can give you both what you seek."

"What might that be?"

Its hand brushed your cheek with the faintest touch. "Eternity."

"But—"

"This is your gift, Y/N. Protect it well."

A tempestuous wind dispersed the haze as the being pressed its fingers to your furrowed brow, causing your flesh to prickle and buzz. More white vapors surrounded your form and consumed the scene, your light waning into oblivion, bringing your clone with it.

Then, like a house of cards, the entire dream crumbled into darkness.

Consciousness returned with a sharp intake of breath, and as you regained your bearings, the chamber in the Dreaming fully shaped in front of you, its vast panorama visible through the grand window. A strange tingling sensation prickled across your forehead, yet upon examination with your fingertips, the skin was still smooth and unchanged, only slightly warmer compared to its usual temperature.

Exhaling softly, you swept your tousled locks away from your visage and drew back the starry covers, your bare feet padding softly across the floor as you retrieved the flowing vestment suspended from the bed's canopy. Draping it around your shoulders and allowing its fabric to billow gracefully behind you, you quietly made your way to the door, easing it open just enough to slip outside.

The palace corridors lay empty and silent, save for a few beings gliding along distant staircases and remote passageways. You navigated purposefully toward your intended sanctuary, your footfalls whisper-soft against the polished marble as you wound through archways and past entrances. At last, you reached the workshop Morpheus had conjured for your artistic endeavors, moving inside among the bust mannequins and glassy butterflies whose iridescence intensified in the nocturnal glow. They flapped their wings slightly while remaining stationary in their places.

Approaching the mahogany writing desk, you retrieved the pristine leather-bound journal that awaited its first inscription. Grasping a pencil, you delicately turned to the final leaf, meticulously recreating the enigmatic emblem from your dream in the lower margin. Although you ignored its real significance, an inexplicable impulse drove you to preserve its likeness before it could fade from memory.

You stared at the finished sigil intently, its strange charm mesmerizing your thoughts, when a shadow moved in your peripheral vision.

"Y/N?" Morpheus' voice intoned tenderly.

With cool nonchalance, you closed the journal against your chest and pivoted to face him.

"What brings you here? You should rest, my love."

"I just woke up feeling strangely inspired," you explained, masking a hint of regret behind your smile. "I wanted to sketch it, or else I may forget about it tomorrow."

"A mind such as yours brims with creativity. Each idea more extraordinary than the last."

The Dream King was, in fact, blissfully unaware of the occurance.

You wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed his lips, setting your journal back on the desk. "I do have my limits though. After all, you are the true master creator here."

"And yet, even in my vastness, I find myself humbled by such magnificence before me."

"Oh, you flatterer!"

You abandoned yourself into his embrace, momentarily forgetting about the journal and the glyph reproduced inside.

"I just know that when our daughter is born, she'll be the most beautiful of all."

"Then I shall have two most precious muses gracing my realm with their… inspiring presence."

"You must walk this path alone, or neither of you will reach its end."

"Your silence guards him. You will do the right thing, the only one that can give you both to what you seek."

"This is your gift, Y/N. Protect it well."

You peered at the leather-bound tome once more, maintaining your serene expression intact. The symbol held secrets meant for another time, and divulging its existence felt intuitively incorrect. The marking was now safely preserved among those pages, awaiting the moment of its necessity. For the present, you rejected the burden of metaphysical interference disrupting the happines you were building together, as nothing felt more right than being with the one you loved.

"Keep those sweet words flowing, and sleep will be the last thing on my mind."

His eyes sparkled with mischievous intent, his mouth curved into a faint, playful smirk. "If you do not want to sleep, then perhaps I shall find another form of entertainment.”

Your brow quirked upward, your embrace tightening as you arched closer to his countenance. "Well, I'm not tired anymore. By all means, my King, do entertain me."

Historic establishments always held an incredible allure. The Old Coffee House in Soho beckoned you whenever moments of leisure presented themselves, a venerable place that had weathered centuries since its 1772 origins, seamlessly blending traditional culture with the vibrant spirit of modern London's tavern scene**.**

You perused your digital correspondence and browsed haute couture updates on your mobile device, while a steaming cup of aromatic brew rested atop the rustic oak surface of the table. Your palm settled tenderly on your abdomen, an instinctive motion that had become second nature and deepened the connection with your unborn little one.

A newcomer breezed through the entrance, exchanging pleasantries with the baristas as her footwear echoed across the plush flooring. Your gaze caught sight of her ensemble - an elegant trench coat, classic British boots, and a fashionable handbag draped casually from her shoulder. Your artistic sensibilities compelled you to analyze her style, but you refocused on your phone and feigned disinterest in her movements.

Yet this mysterious visitor evidently harbored intentions of her own.

"Mind if I sit?"

You glanced up at her face to confirm she was indeed addressing you, your eyes flashing with mild surprise. "Uh… no, not at all…"

“They still serve that bloody rosehip blend here, don’t they?” she asked, eyeing the tea as she lowered herself onto the adjacent stool.

You blinked and nodded, shifting to sit straighter against the leather couch. Had she mistaken you for someone else, or had you forgotten meeting this woman before?

She offered a gentle smile, brushing aside her chestnut locks, and placed her forearms against the wooden surface. An enigmatic silence descended upon you as she scrutinized your features with an unreadable yet penetrating stare.

"So. Dream of the Endless? Must be one hell of a bedtime story."

The moment she spoke again, you almost choked on your tea.

Your eyes darted furtively around the café to scan for potential listeners within earshot. With hushed tones, you asked, "You know him?"

"We’ve crossed paths. Bit of a moody bastard, but he’s all right. Word is you've managed to soften him up quite a bit."

"I suppose so."

A peculiar disquiet crept over you, leaving you ambivalent about whether her approach was genuine curiosity or if she represented another foe seeking to disturb your tranquility. Her attention dropped to the flashy pendant around your neck, then drifted down to assess your growing belly, where your child with Dream resided.

"Oi, look. You’re not just shacking up with some cosmic entity here. You’re a walking crack in the universe’s blueprint. And believe me, that’s not an insult."

"Thanks... I guess. Though I'm not quite sure what you mean by 'walking crack.'"

"I don't have all the answers myself. But being a magic user, let's just say I notice things others don't."

"A magic user? You mean like a witch?"

“Not a witch, Occult Expert. You know, demonology, black magic, fighting the forces of evil - that sort of shit. Not exactly what most people fancy for a career.”

Finally relaxing, you found her quirky attitude disarming and sensed no hint of danger. "Sounds like fun."

"Pays well enough to keep me in designer boots, can't fucking complain about that."

Shrugging off her coat, she sported a refined button-up blouse tucked into form-fitting denim, her physique deceptively delicate despite wielding enough mystical knowledge to tame mythical creatures with a mere incantation.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if her presence at the café was mere coincidence or deliberately orchestrated.

"So, you seem to know about me, but I doubt Morpheus would discuss our relationship like ordinary gossip. What's this really about?"

“Sharp. I like that.”

A knowing half-smirk tugged at your lips as you shrugged.

"Right then, love. Might as well get to it: Hob Gadling. You know him, right?"

"Have you run into any other odd characters lately? Besides all them supernatural beings you've been telling me about."

"Hob? Of course. Are you telling me that he would just spill my story with Dream? That doesn't sound like him at all."

"He did not," she confessed. "Not until I pestered him with my questions and made it well impossible for him to avoid me. I did my research, he's got a good heart; immortality didn't rot it out, somehow. But lately there's been something... off about him. When you've dealt with as much nonsense as I have, you develop a sixth sense for this crap."

"Hob? Mixed up in the occult?"

She pivoted her face in negation. "Turns out you're the anomaly here, in a very strange way."

"Hold on—how exactly did your investigation lead from Hob to me?"

"Your magical signature's practically dripping off him. Given who you're with and what you're carrying inside you, it's not exactly rocket science why. There is… something about you that even my knowledge can't explain."

Had your light begun seeping into the mortal realm, turning you into a magnet for those attuned to psychic frequencies?

"It’s stronger lately. Much stronger. At first I thought we might have a fuckingmess on our hands."

Your mouth curved into a contemplative grimace. "And now?"

"Now I see it’s not a curse. It’s a convergence. You're not just carrying an Endless' child, you're bloody well pulsing like a heartbeat between dimensions."

"So why are you really here? To warn me? I suggest you get in line."

"Relax, I just wanted to offer you a healthy drink. Though I reckon you're sorted with that tea of yours. And while we have a good chat, I could figure out why this world is folding in strange places wherever you walk. And maybe even lend a hand if you need it. First time's free.”

Savoring another draught of your beverage, you exhaled a pensive whisper. "Obviously. I've learned to be wary of people offering help without expecting something in return."

She let out a sardonic snicker, giving an affirmative nod, before bellowing at the bartender to fetch her the most potent libation available.

"Nothing comes without a price," she pronounced, turning her attention back towards you.

"Except I never asked for your service."

Her bearing was distinctly unpolished, her tactics lacking finesse and sophistication. Yet beneath that gruff exterior, her eyes revealed an underlying gentleness necessarily masked by the demands of her profession.

And beneath it all, perhaps, a hidden pain.

After a momentary pause, she announced, "I'm Johanna. Johanna Constantine, since you haven't asked."

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 (currently reading) Chapter 28 (coming soon) ->

#the sandman #the sandman morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman writing

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hwaslayer · 6 months ago

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wildfire (cs) | 11.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 0.8k

—chapter content/warnings: not much!! something a lil more tame lol, prob one of the 0.5s that takes place right after the chapter beforehand, i promise there is no ill intention behind what's happening here - they're both equally torn about everything as san's good friends/colleagues

namjoon: you got a minute to meet up today? sorry for the last minute request but it's kinda urgent.

jongho: sure. i'm wrapping up. can meet you in the next 15 mins?

namjoon: i'll come to you.

jongho: alright then, boss.

Jongho continues typing away at his desk, responding to all the emails that came in today while he was off doing interviews for the new open faculty role in the electrical engineering department. He makes a mental note to submit his review sheet for the first round of interviewees and to review the applications for the next round tomorrow. He doesn't realize how quick 15 minutes flies by until Namjoon is swinging his door open mid-email. He continues to type away, but his eyes shift to Namjoon's figure as he fixes his blazer and takes a seat with a loud sigh.

"Long day?" Jongho cracks a small smile, typing up the last few details before sending it off and shifting his attention to Namjoon in front of him.

"Kinda." He nods towards his computer. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt or delay you from leaving."

"All good. Didn't really have plans, anyway. What's up? You seem a little flustered."

"Well, catching Yunho, Iseul and San arguing in a conference room wasn't exactly on my agenda for today."

"What?" Jongho cocks his head back a bit in disbelief, brows tightly knitted together as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. San had been giving him a bit of the story here and there and knowing Iseul, he wasn't exactly surprised this is how things were playing out.

He's just not sure why Iseul thinks it's her business to air this all out.

"You tell me."

"As much as I would love to help, I honestly have no idea what's going on.”

"Jongho."

"What? You know how Iseul is. She somehow still thinks she has a grip on San even after they've divorced and gone through all of that. Can't stand her, if you ask me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. But, why? Why is this a thing right now?"

"Beats me." Jongho tries to brush it off even though he can see the look on Namjoon's face, his eyes trying to study him like a damn book. He hates being in the middle because as much as he loves and supports his bestfriend, he also has the utmost respect for Namjoon and knows the guy will always be on their side regardless.

"That's the first in a very long time that I've seen San react that way at the happy hour event."

"Okay, to be fair, the guy was getting super disrespectful. I think any of us would've reacted in one way or another."

"Right, I agree. But, I know there's a story behind it. I know his anger was fueled by something else." Jongho sees the way Namjoon is going about this. He's prying for the answers he already knows, but he needs the confirmation and Jongho can give him that.

It's just a matter of when.

"What if it was just a bad day?"

"Okay, you know what?" Joon leans onto the arm rest of the chair and gives him a look. "I'm just gonna go headfirst with it." Jongho cocks a brow up. "Is there something going on with San and his rotation student? Y/N specifically." He sighs.

"I figured."

"No, you knew." Namjoon chuckles a bit.

"I don't know. I really can't tell you because I don't know anything." Jongho says he knows nothing when he knows everything.

"Jongho." Joon repeats.

"Joon, swear." He says, even though he tries to sit as still as possible. Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

It started gradually before it took off completely. Jongho knows about the last minute meetings San has had to take, Jongho has seen the subtle glances, the subtle actions, the mood changes when you're around. Jongho remembers seeing you slip out of his hotel room very early that morning during the NAS conference. Jongho remembers seeing the polaroid slightly tip out of the wallet case mid-breakfast and seeing a tiny slip of your face in his peripherals. San quickly adjusted the polaroid and continued on like nothing, wishing for the best with that one.

And he doesn't have to be told to know you've been over multiple times. All the calls that have gone curt and short, the distraction easily laced in San's voice on the other line. He remembers the faint trace of your perfume in his home, the little post-it notes you've left on San's office desk.

Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

Cause, yes.

"I can hear your thoughts."

Well, shit.

"I don't know what to say."

"I need you to tell me yes or no, that's all. I need to make sure I'm going about this correctly even though I heard a lot today alone." Jongho sighs and sees how torn Namjoon is. They both are. They obviously want what's best for San, and they both want him to be happy. He is deserving of good, genuine love. He is deserving of genuine happiness because he always rides for the people he loves, goes the extra mile for them. He acknowledges and learns from his mistakes, he apologizes when he knows he's at fault.

He's deserving of all good.

So, they both hate that it has to come to this because it's not even you that's the problem. It's the situation, and they both don't know how to approach it with enough sensitivity and care.

Even though it's good to San, it doesn't necessarily mean it could be good for San.

"Yes."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

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mrs-hwangh · 9 months ago

Text

a boxers heart.

chapter two

Kim Geonwoo x Fem!Reader

summary: one day was enough to change your lifes forever. Geonwoo is your best friend, you help his mother with her coffee shop and became part of a legendary trio with Geonwoo and Woojin. However.. nothing will ever be the same again after the Smile Company entered your lifes.

wc: 2,7k

an: I did not proofread this yet.. bare with me- aaaand... there's going to be some action in the next chapter ✨️

enjoy

The roads were busy, people wearing masks walked by each second as he came closer to his destination.

Opening this door.. it was the best feeling for him. Entering the place where he can work on fullfilling his dreams.

The gym.

Geonwoo mimicked the blows he'd train on as he punched against the air while he went up the stairs.

He was soon greeted by the last door that seperated him from his freedom.

However.. there was a note.

"Huh?"

Temporarily closed Due to a confirmed covid-19 patient

They had to be joking.. right??

He called his coach seconds after, hoping to get the permission to train a little bit on his free day.

'We had dinner last night with some of the other members at the gym'

'Apparently, one of them tested positive'

Geonwoo sighed.

"Oh.. do you think I should get tested too?"

'No, you're fine'

'Anyway, your match was just yesterday. Why did I hear that you're back at the gym?'

"To work out. Why else?"

His coach didn't know if he should be proud or worried at that moment.. isn't that kid.. tired?

'Geon-woo.'

'Please take a week off and rest.'

Rest? Why? Was there a need? All he knew was working hard each day to keep his disciplines up.

Why should he rest all of a sudden if he wasn't even tired?

"Rest doing what?"

His coach wished he could facepalm his student right now.

'Nothing. If you're doing something, you're not resting.'

'Just don't do anything and try to relax'

So.. no keys.. no approval of his coach.. man he really had to rest huh?

Geonwoo gave in.

"Okay"

He ended the call and was left alone standing, waiting for some miracle he knew would not happen.

The boy turned to the staircase and sat down.

He took a deep breath thinking of his options. What could he do.. wha- wait..

How didn't he think of it sooner??

"Come on pick it up already.."

The phone rang a few times until he saw the calls icon change into the timer.

"Uh.. what are you up to??"

Woojin was confused. He had the best sleep since a long time.. getting a call at this early hour confused him already.. having him check the callers ID twice before picking it up.

His eyes were closed, his phone lazily placed on his ear as he groaned.

'Sleep'

"Huh?"

'Sleeping'

Geonwoo was amazed. He didn't hear that right.. no no

"Uhh, I can't hear you"

'Sleep. Sleeping. I am sleeping'

"Well, do you want to work out?"

'No'

"Ah, but I'm bored"

Woojin could not believe his ears. Who in their right mind would wake up that early. The exact day after a win.. just to work out more??

'God, so clingy so early in the morning'

'Can't you ask y/n? I bet she'd love to wake up this early'

"She's helping my mother out.. they're at the coffee and the shift won't end until much later"

'Did you try?'

".. well no, she's busy and I didn't want to disturb her"

'Yeah I figured that much.. oh man'

Geonwoo wouldn't take a no as an answer. Who would he be if he gave up?

"Let's hang out. Hmm?"

Woojin sighed. This dude wouldn't let him rest huh..

....he gave in

'I'll send you my address. Come.'

A light chuckle escaped Geonwoo after hearing this. After all he did have company for now.

"Okay, sounds good"

They ended the call and Geonwoo stood up, leaving the heavy bag in one of the shelves before he left the building.

The door closed and he was greeted by a soft breeze of the wind. He opened his phone to enter the location but something else caught his attention.

Some older man was running down the street, yelling for help. Weird.

Just a few seconds later, another person appeared.

Someone dressed all in black chased him down.

Geonwoos instincts kicked in as he joined the chase to hopefully save the man from his attacker.

The road lead to another neighborhood but he couldn't see them anymore. Shit. Did he really lose them?

A few moments passed by as he stood there, gasping for air thanks to the sprint he did while wearing the mask.

He looked around, sharpened his senses and actually caught kn something.

A sound.

Wincing.

It was time to run once again, not long after he found the person lying down on the street, breathing heavily.

The attacker was already leaving the scene but Geonwoo wouldn't let the person get by that easily.

Their eyes met and the person started running away. Geonwoo was not losing any time, not wanting to get lost again.

He quikly checked the mans state and took off to catch the other stranger.

The chase lead him through tight alleyways, different openings of streets he never got to see until the person dissappeared between the bricks and doors.

Shit.

Shit where did they go??

He didn't stop and soon got to regret this.

A sudden pain surged from his side as the stranger attacked him from a hiding spot.

Was it.. did they.. was this electric?!

Whatever it was sent him on the floor and the stranger on top of him.

He groaned in pain and his breath was very uneven.

His eyes widened in shock as the strangers look turned from serious to disappointed when they saw him.

They took their mask off.. it was a girl?

"Who?"

....

"..huh?" "Why did you follow me? Who sent you?"

Her tone was serious and she put the electronical device dangerously close to his throat.

He was panicking, trying to get his neck as far as he could from that device.

"To help"

She pushed that thing closer.

"Help who?"

He was trying to keep his cool, not looking at the dangerous thing that was activated by now, ready to strike a very very vulnerable spot.

Closing his eyes.. starting to stutter.. this fear.. this was new to him.

"I thought that man was being chased, I didn't know what was going on"

A sudden sound caught her attention. It came from him.

Shit. It was his phone-

"What is that?"

"Was someone following you? Answer me!"

He shook his head as much as he could, facing the painful thing that awaited him.

"Show me the contact. Now."

"Okay.. okay but please-"

She came dangerously close. It came dangerously close.

"T-Take that away.. just a few inches- please"

Geonwoos voice was shaken but she listened, leaning back to give him the needed freedom.

He took his phone out, seeing the name that usually lit up his mood.. but today.. now he was worried.

"Don't wait? Turn it to me"

He hesitated but did as he was told to.

The display was facing her now and the caller indeed didn't seem like someone who'd harm people.

' y/n :) '

There was a picture of you, that smile, these eyes.

No, he was telling the truth. The girl she saw looked way to innocent to actually work for someone like him.

"God fucking damnit"

She shook her head in frustration.

"..huh?"

His eyes slightly widened at this while he noticed that you ended the call.

"That asshole is a fake.. Just butt out of things you don't know, Motherfucker"

She was pissed. Threatening him with the electro shocker and sighing once again before she stood up to leave.

Here he was, lying on the ground.. trying to calm himself from whatever happened right now.

- "Hmm.. he didn't pick it up"

You were cleaning the floor while Geonwoos mother prepared some sweets.

She asked you to call Geonwoo, wanting to know if he wanted her to prepare a special sweet for him.

"It's allright, thank you.."

.....

"So.. how was yesterday? Geonwoo told me a little about the day, but he didn't mention much because I was tired"

Her voice was filled with such kindness.. may this woman never have to suffer again..

"Hmm.. where do I even start.."

You recalled every memory you had from yesterday. From hearing Woojins voice at the call to walking back from the delicious food.

"He introduced me to Hong Woojin.. the one he fought against during the finals. Then.. well no no first I called him and then I heard the other guys voice. It was funny because he was mocking Geonwoo for not answering his question."

His mother smiled softly upon hearing this.

"Which question?"

"The first thing he asked was who he was talking to.. but he kind of ignored it. Shortly after he asked him if he was talking to a girl.. well, he obviously did and then he started saying something about Geonwoo smiling but that was the moment when Geonwoo turned to call off"

She was amused by her sons reaction.

"He also cursed at the guy.. first time I heard him say 'Damnit'.. like genuinely"

You tried to copy his voice during that moment, failing miserably which made his mother errupt into a heartfilled laughter.

"Cursing? Geonwoo? That was unexpected huh"

His mother went on listening to your yapping. You might have not realized it yet.. but she certainly understood what was happening to her son right now, and she was glad that he had you hy his side to support him.

"We should go there together some day, it's really fun"

"I'm pretty sure of that... now.. should we spoil ourselves with some sweets to kill the time?"

Sweets? Made by her godly hands? Oh yes.

You two sat down on one of the seats and enjoyed the lunch break together... ohh how you loved this place.

The sun was starting to set as Geonwok and Woojin sat on the rooftop.

They prepared something warm to eat, talking about different topics such as their favourite boxers.

"I do want to get money though, this is part of why I box"

Geonwoo and he compared their idols until they came to the conclusion that both of them had a different point of view.

Woojin though took Geonwoos words in.

"A boxers heart.. this.. this is important to me"

How was he this wise but still younger then him??

".. yeah.. you're right"

The noon went by as they continued their chatter.. they changed the topic.

Well.. Woojin did.

"The girl from yesterday.. who is she?"

Geonwoo was caught off guard, did he forget?

"You mean y/n? Didn't you just talk to her yesterday?"

Ohhh this dude was so oblivious..

"No.. I meant who is she, someone special to you?"

He smirked because he saw his friend slowly getting flustered.

"Oh man I knew that something was going on from the moment she called you"

"Oh shut up-"

"Bro you were smiling wiiiide, tell me! Is she your gi-"

"As I said, she's helping my mother out. This is how I came to know her"

Woojin did not believe anything of this though.

"Yeah yeah, oh man you're helpless aren't you?"

Geonwoo let out a chuckle and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't get me wrong, she is special.. but don't you dare say anything in front of her"

"No sir!"

Was he for real? A salute?

"You're going to be the end of me"

"Yes sir!"

The suns light gave in to the night.

A familiair darkness filled the streets and you and Geonwoos mother knew that the time had come.

Another day has come to it's end.

"The shift is over. Will you wait with me until Geonwoo returns?"

"Of course"

You too stood behind the counter and missed the black cars which drove up to the entrance.

The wooden door creaked as a man stepped in. Someone you didn't recognize.. but judging by the woman's reaction next to you, she did.

"Oh.. hello! Good evening"

The mans walk was slow but powerful. He was dressed in a black suit, elegant glasses reflecting the lights shine.

His look seemed annoyed, angry even.

"Why didn't you keep your promise?"

Your gaze shifted to her, a confused look spread across all over her face.

"..what?"

"You agreed to an extension fee"

"In exchange for an lowered interest rate"

"uh... what..?"

"But you needed to pay that extension fee which is 10% of the principal"

He walked closer, a few steps being already to many for your comfort.

"withing 24 hours of signing"

"It says on the contract, but because you failed to do so, your extension has accured to 40 million in interest."

His demeanor changed, the serious look turned into a manic one, wide eyes and a voice getting louder with each sentence.

"Not to mention your credit score has dropped so your interest rate has gone up to 20%" He chuckled.

"We really... started with the purest of intentions.."

He laughed.

"You ruined everything, damnit!"

His sudden yelling scared her and snapped you out of your thoughts.

You didn't know what he was talking about but judging by Geonwoos mothers face, the growing unease in you stomach and that guys appearance all together, he had to leave. Now.

"I'm sorry sir, but you have to leave now, I think there's a big missun-"

"Don't you dare to interfere!"

He snapped at you, pointing his finger towards your face and making a face you'd surely see in your nightmares.

This silenced you, but you still stepped closer to your best friends mother, shilding her from him.

"What are you going to do now? Do you have that kind of money?"

She looked at you, then at him.

"I.. I will call the police"

"Police?'"

He was unfazed.

"Yeah"

Silence.

Nor did he say or do anything.

Just standing there, staring at both of your faces until he took one.. then two.. and then many steps back to leave the shop.

Both of you left a breath you didn't know you were holding once you heared the door close.

"What the hell was this.."

She didn't answer you, instead calling her son.

"Oh my God.. oh my God..."

You saw the man standing outside the door, staring at you.. which made you panic a bit.

'Hey mom?'

She was relieved upon hearing his voice.

"Hey son, where are you?"

' I'm almost there'

"Okay, I'm at the store, with y/n"

His face lit up when she mentioned your name.. but not for long.

You.. You saw more of them getting grouped infront of the door.

"A bunch of strange people came over.."

'Strange people? Who?'

"They're still here"

She wanted to tell him more but one of them suddenly threw a stone against the glas, shattering it completely.

You two flinched and shrieked from the sudden noise, shielding yourselves from what was happening.

'Mom? Y/N? What's going on??'

All he could hear were your fear filled screams and the loud noise of glass being shattered, wood hitting the floor and people destroying the place his mother established with so much love.

Neither her or you could continue the call, the danger was way to high and your priority was to keep each other safe.

The counter.. the only thing shielding you two from the group of the men.

Wincing and flinching at every sound and glass dropping right next to you, a nearing shadow caught your attention.

Two men forcefully pulled you up, restraining you from moving.

You saw them going to get Geonwoos mother next.. she was shivering in fear..

"Don't you dare touch her! What the hell do you think you're doing in here anyway?!"

The guy holding you pushed you harshly to the wall and slapped you across your face.

A stinging pain filled your senses as you heared the muffled screams of the frightened woman you wanted to protect.

Unbeknownst to you.. the call didn't end when you both fell down.

Geonwoo could hear everything.

He was already sprinting, a rage burning deep within him against whoever attacked his special people.

But when he heard your voice? Wanting to protect his mother?

He got goosebumps.. not the good ones.. the ones you get when you're awaiting something bad.

Which happened.. he heard the sound of the slap. The scream of his mother as soon as she saw them hurt you.

He was furious. And one thing was sure. Whoever dared to lay his hand on you two would end up in the hospital today.

Taglist:

@asterizee @dripoftheseus

#bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds #kim geunwoo #woo do hwan #gunwoo x reader #bloodhounds x reader #dohwan x reader

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shiroganeryo · 3 months ago

Text

DGM 254: Allen's Helix (long post)

⚠️First of all, I’ll be tagging this under DGM spoilers so if you have somehow stumbled upon this even if you’re avoiding spoilers for Chapter 254 (or the most recent DGM talks as a whole), this is your warning to turn back now!

All images from translated chapters are courtesy of Kougeki Scans, Mangainn and Mangastream. The raws for Chapter 254 have been kindly provided by a friend of mine 😌

In the most recent chapter, we get a glimpse of a good number of people within Allen's Helix - which also counts as Lavi Sr's Helix, since they have been combined, merged into one.

But who are these people? Interestingly enough, we've already seen some of them before.

Let's take the obvious ones out of the way first:

There's a reason why "The Earl" is stated in quotation marks, more on that in a bit.

We see the group divide into two sides - Nea's side and Lavi Sr's side. This gives us an idea of their allegiance - which clan they belonged to or partnered with, Noah or Bookman.

Another thing that's important to note is that since the Helix of Life is fueled by, as described by Lavi Sr, lives touching lives, this doesn't inherently mean all of these people are dead. While death intrinsically results in returning to the Helix, some of these people might have had their life energy sucked back into the Helix but managed to survive (similarly to what happened to Allen).

Which is very interesting when we take into account the oddities that surround Cross' aging. It's also surprising to see Road in there, given that she's the eldest Noah alive who hasn't reincarnated unlike the others who were all slain by Nea 35 years ago. Mana, too, is currently alive as the Millennium Earl.

I'm not here to discuss these details, especially with how little we know about how the Helix of Life works exactly as of now, but it's something interesting to have in mind.

Bookman

The small person standing next to Lavi Sr could be none other than Bookman himself. Not only his adorably smol figure is very recognizable to us, he appears in the panel as he is remembered by Lavi Sr, his son.

(from The 253rd Night: If It Is Indeed Fate, We’ll Meet Again Someday, Part 1)

We've seen this appearance of Bookman many chapters ago, and while a lot of people theorized that was, indeed, a younger-looking Bookman, we had no canonical confirmation of his identity until recently.

(from The 218th Night: Searching for A. W - "D")

"The Earl"

It's curious that the Millennium Earl is seen here; because this isn't the Earl himself, but the golem suit. Thanks to an official DGM art exhibit, it's been known to us for a while now that this appearance of the Earl isn't his actual appearance but, rather, a suit that conceals his true body: Mana.

(from The 219th Night: Searching for A.W. - He Has Forgotten Love)

The suit and Mana are two separate entities, hence why it's important to note how both appear within the Helix as separate entities as well.

When empty, we usually see the suit and Mana separately (as in, Mana not being inside wearing it, as seen above).

Similarly to a puppet with no strings to control its limbs, the empty suit's most discerning feature is its long, dragging sleeves that omit its hands.

(from The 233rd Night: Saying Goodbye to A.W. - The way of the three)

Since Mana is there with his younger appearance, I can only assume this means Nea's side within this Helix has been affected by both Mana and the Millennium Earl, the suit representing the Earl whilst Mana represents himself the way Nea remembered him.

I've considered that golems can also have their energy sucked into the Helix since Timcanpy is there as well, but the Earl played a key role in Nea's death - it didn't happen out of Mana's own volition; it was the Millennium Earl's memory, Adam, that took over and killed (more like, consumed) Nea.

(from The 219th Night: Searching for A.W. - He Has Forgotten Love)

When we see it play from Mana's memories, he remembers the Earl as the empty suit even though the paneling suggests that the current Mana is inside, watching as his younger self holds a dying Nea in his arms, because he, Mana, and the Millennium Earl are one and the same even though their consciences are not.

Hoshino has consistently used the long, dragging sleeves omitting the hands as a visual, symbolic way to separate their consciences and identities apart: Mana, Nea's twin sibling and Mana, the Millennium Earl, host of Adam. Therefore, the suit being in the Helix together with Mana was to be expected - but it's still important to note that they represent two different entities in this context.

Other people in the Helix

There are two people who were very familiar to me in this ensemble. Firstly, the person who's standing next to Bookman:

We have seen this person before; their back was facing us, but the braid, the ring tied to its end, the clothes and more importantly, the staff, confirm it's very much the same person.

(from The 253rd Night: If It Is Indeed Fate, We’ll Meet Again Someday, Part 1)

They were grouped with Nea, Mana, Bookman and Past!Allen in this panel, hinting that this character holds great importance to the plot. The fact that they're holding the staff previously seen in Lavi Sr's possession is no small detail either - this staff has been sneakily shown in the background more than once, and we all know Hoshino loves showing important details as if they're small, unimportant things until their actual relevance is revealed.

(from The 253rd Night: If It Is Indeed Fate, We’ll Meet Again Someday, Part 1. Note the staff conveniently there but still partially hidden by speech bubbles.)

We still don't know what this staff is - if it's a weapon, a heirloom, or just something that folks from the Bookman clan own in general. I'm more inclined to think it's a heirloom because it doesn't feel like mere coincidence that this person is always depicted with the staff, and Hoshino made a point on showing (albeit a tad secretively) that Lavi Sr. also had this same staff.

Interestingly enough, in Vol 26's Discussion Room, when asked about his fighting skills and what he's most skilled with, Lavi mentions bōjutsu - a martial art that consists of fighting with a short staff (a bō); the term translates literally to "staff technique". In Viz Media's English release, this has been incorrectly translated as "cudgels".

This seems to imply the staff is a weapon, but it's also possibly a heirloom passed from one Bookman Jr to another. If that's confirmed to be true in the future, this person might be the one who was the previous Bookman Jr before Lavi Sr, or equally as important as an apprentice of sorts for Bookman.

Looking at their silhouette at first, I believed it to be a male (wide shoulders, rectangular body), but after talking to my friends and observing the silhouette on the panel below, I'm more inclined to think it's a woman (curvy, thin waist in comparison to the men's wider silhouettes).

Nothing is set in stone yet since we're unable to take a better look at them and they could still be a man, but it would be very interesting to have a former female Bookman Jr or something of the sort. And even though we still don't know who this person is, we can tell for sure that they're very important.

On to the next person. Needless to say, from this point on, everything I say is entirely speculative so please don't take it as the ultimate truth.

This man almost last in line, to me, holds a significant resemblance to a man who was present during current Lavi's birth (seen on The 253rd Night: If It Is Indeed Fate, We’ll Meet Again Someday, Part 1).

His face was conveniently omitted and it feels like a deliberate panel layout construction choice from Hoshino rather than it being accidental. It was briefly seen in another panel, albeit rather obscured:

We know it's the same man because like in the panel where his face is hidden, there's a child next to him, holding onto his clothes.

That being said, the man in the Helix also resembles this other man, who also was present during Lavi's birth and next to the man whose face was hidden:

We see his face in the next panel, as he's the one standing next to another, elderly-looking man:

And his face was shown previously in the same panel that showed the other man's face as well:

I'm at a loss for this one because the man seen in the Helix wears a bandana with long straps tied at the back of his head. While the second man shown above does wear a bandana, there are no long straps at the back, whilst the first one seemingly does not wear one and we never see his back to know for sure.

However, the choice of having his face hidden from us raises way too many suspicions for me to let him pass, and their overall features like hair style look similar enough to talk about both men.

On to the next person: the man next to Road and Timcanpy.

This is of course just speculation since we have never seen his appearance, but my folks seem to theorize this man could be Cyrus, Katerina's brother. He's briefly mentioned in The 214th Night: Searching For A.W. - Awakening.

Not much else is known about him.

And then, to wrap it up: the person next to whom we believe to be Cyrus and Timcanpy.

From the clothes and silhouette, we can safely assume it's a female. We don't know who this woman might be, but considering she's standing on the side of Nea (the Noah/Campbell Mansion group), she could either be Mother, Cross's former patron, or Dr. Joe, part of the Campbell staff in the present day.

Even though the hairstyle is different from her current one, I'm inclined to think it's Mother because of the shawl, albeit somewhat younger due to the time this event takes place; she would have been in her 50~60s or so by then.

(from The 249th Night: Saying Goodbye to A.W.)

Mother seems to be intrinsically involved with the whole thing, seeing how she not only helped Cross care for Allen when he first took Allen in, but she also knew Allen should head to the Zoogle Bookstore for answers, and carries immense guilt for what's to come, indicating that she knows very important things that took place in the past.

(This one is still, to me, one of the most impactful sequences in the entire manga: Mother, the usually unfazed one, begging for God's divine retribution to befall her just as it did for Cross for what's about to befall Allen. From The 249th Night: Saying Goodbye to A.W.)

That woman in the shawl from the Helix might not be Mother after all, but with how major her involvement is, it feels odd not to have her present there; so this assumption is worth a shot in my opinion.

As for the other people not covered in this post, they just didn't feel as familiar, may or may not be "placeholders" without enough distinguishing features, or aren't people we'll get to know in due time. Everything is possible.

As always, any and all additions to this post are welcome since I'm not infallible and may have missed something; just please keep it civil and lighthearted. And here's a reminder to take the second half of this post with a grain of salt since it's all speculation on my part!

A big thanks to the folks in my friend group who spark the most interesting of discussions and to you for reading until this point! 😊

Long time no see, and let's all look forward to the next chapter in July.

#DGM #DGM spoilers #DGM 254 #analysis #d.gray man #d.gray-man #this post took hours to write and I'm pretty tired atm #so please let me know if I missed something!

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blufblucake · 2 months ago

Note

Why am I grinning this hard after finishing new chapter WEEE I love their new started cop partners I have the image in front of my eyes lmaoo and how they worked it out with Optimus about their situation. Look there is very little content about Jazz x reader or Prowl x reader I'm very glad you write this! Very excited for next chapter I love them already <3

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: Prowl x GN!Human!Reader

ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ: Grumpy x Sunshine

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: None, I think.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,5k

previous chapter / next chapter

Author’s Notes: Hi everyone! Thank you for the sweet words about the story. In the future, Optimus is going to be a real sweetheart to the reader. And since some of you mentioned Jazz, I just want to say I already have a oneshot with him, and I don’t plan to take too long to post it. It’s so cold where I live that it’s getting hard to type. My fingers are going stiff on the keyboard, haha. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! :)

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

With your legs crossed, one foot clad in a heavy boot tapped the floor to the rhythm of the music playing in your head. You absentmindedly played with your fingers while your eyes scanned the room, casually observing the dull and basic decor of the sergeant’s office. The walls, painted a bland shade of cream, brought an overwhelming sense of apathy. The wooden desk in front of you held few decorations aside from a clearly child-made pen holder and a photo frame featuring the sergeant with his family. The room was relatively quiet; in the background, you could hear muffled voices talking and phones ringing outside the door, along with the persistent ticking of the wall clock, which marked 5:40p.m.

Prowl — or rather, his avatar — was sitting in the chair beside you. Unnaturally silent, his blue eyes stared straight ahead, his posture eerily perfect. Ever since you'd returned to the police station, he hadn’t said a word. You weren’t sure what he planned to tell the sergeant, but you knew you couldn’t tell the truth. Not only because Prowl and the other Autobots were counting on your discretion to keep their secret, but also because no one would believe you, and they would definitely force you to give up your job. The sound of the door opening behind you made you turn around just in time to see the sergeant entering the room. Absentmindedly flipping through some reports in his hands, he circled the desk and sat down across from you two. With a tired sigh, he dropped the papers onto the table and glanced between you and Prowl. “So, which one of you is going to tell me about the incident?”

Before you could open your mouth, Prowl took responsibility and began to speak in a cold, serious tone “We were intercepted on the way by armed, masked individuals. We weren’t harmed, but apparently, their intention was only to delay us. Unfortunately, we were unable to identify them or the vehicle they used.” Prowl’s posture and way of speaking were nearly robotic, which was ironic, but if he truly wanted to blend in with humans, he’d need a few pointers. Sergeant Smith simply nodded before leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. “Well, we’ll open an investigation into this incident. Officer Rowley, right?” he asked, and Prowl confirmed with a nod “You weren’t the partner I had in mind for the officer here, but judging by your record, it’s clear you have experience. And since their original partner is on leave, I believe you two can make a good team. Alright, you’re dismissed. You can go.”

Prowl was the first to rise, and you followed suit after noticing the sergeant’s bored gaze lingering on you. You offered him a faint smile and left the room, closing the door behind you. So that was it. You weren’t meant to be partners, you had ended up in this situation simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe if you hadn’t gotten into that car that day, you wouldn’t have gotten tangled up in this whole alien war mess. Prowl walked silently ahead, and you had to quicken your pace to keep up. Since it was nearly shift change, the locker room was relatively full. You had to squeeze through groups of people chatting absentmindedly just to reach your locker and grab your backpack. Once outside, you let out a relieved sigh. It was suffocating being surrounded by so many people. Prowl was waiting for you, leaning against the hallway wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Without saying a word, he started walking again, and you followed him, heading toward the station’s lot, where his real body was parked.

“Give me your phone,” he said plainly, and you looked at him, confused. Still, you rummaged through your bag, found the device, and handed it to the mech. He scrolled through it and typed somethings before finally returning it to you. “A blocker. We need to be cautious now that the Decepticons know about you.” you nodded and slowly put the phone back in your backpack. Your curious eyes glanced between his avatar and his real form, still trying to wrap your head around all of it. It was strange to think this was really happening. As a child, you used to read books about space and its vastness, and you remembered thinking how ridiculous it was to believe we were alone among the stars. And now, you had proof you were right. You weren’t alone. You just didn’t know if that certainty brought you comfort… or fear. “Well, I’m heading home then. See you tomorrow, right?”

He gives you a confused look and raises an eyebrow, then responds, “I’m going with you. Optimus assigned me as your guardian, I need to ensure your safety.” you let out a short laugh and pat his left arm lightly, but when you realize he’s still dead serious, you straighten up and clear your throat. “You’re serious, big guy? Because, honestly, my place is tiny. Barely fits me and Olivia Benson. I don’t think you’d even fit inside on your knees.” He closes his eyes and exhales deeply before answering, “I’ll stay in vehicle mode, disguised and hidden. I need you to be discreet, you can’t tell your friend about any of this, understood?” You blink a few times before letting out another laugh, was he seriously thinking your little fish was a person? You decide to say nothing; you’ll introduce them when the time comes.

Prowl found himself confused by human humor. In truth, he understood very little about your kind, and to be honest, he had no real interest in learning. But now, in this situation, he had to keep you safe and make sure you didn’t blurt out anything about their presence on Earth “Alright, I’ll drive ahead and you follow me.” He nods in confirmation and watches you walk away toward the exit. Then he walks over to his real body, enters the car by the driver’s side, and lets the illusion of his avatar fade away. He was tired, but he knew he had to keep up appearances. Prowl starts the engine and leaves the station lot, parking under a tree to watch you get into an old, battered Beetle. Once you begin to drive, he waits a few seconds before following, keeping a safe distance between your cars.

The way to your house is neither long nor difficult. Traffic was surprisingly light for that hour, and people seemed far too absorbed in their own lives to notice a police vehicle tailing a little Beetle. When you arrive on your street, Prowl sees it’s a quiet neighborhood, and judging by the houses and the few residents outside, it’s mostly inhabited by elderly folks. Your home wasn’t much different from the others, maybe just your garden looked a bit less taken care of. You park your Beetle on the street and get out, walking toward the garage. With a remote, you open the door and make space for him to enter. Once inside, you close the door, and darkness settles over the space. Feeling around the wall, you find the light switch and turn on a dim yellow bulb above you both. Your hand is soft and delicate as you gently stroke Prowl’s hood “Welcome to my home. It’s no five-star hotel, but at least you won’t be exposed to the weather.”

The mech observes you silently, the only sound coming from the faint hum of his engine. He could feel the warmth of your hand through his metal plating, and though he said nothing, the touch was oddly comforting. “I’m going in now. You’ll be okay here on your own?” your question snaps him out of the trance your touch had induced, and he replies with a soft hum.

You walk away and head straight to the bathroom for a shower. Under the hot water, your muscles relax and you finally let yourself cry. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor, hugging your knees. The events of the day finally hit you. In a single day, you’d started a new job, been mistreated by coworkers, met your new partner who turned out to be an alien, were attacked by another alien and nearly died in the process, met more aliens claiming to be the good guys, and now you were home with said alien partner disguised as a car, hiding in your garage. On top of everything, you were new to the city and didn’t have any friends besides your little fish or the old lady next door, but you knew you could never tell her about any of this. Resting your cheek on your knees, you stay in that position for a long time, letting the hot water wash away the day’s stress while the steam fogs up the bathroom.

When you finally finish your shower, you dress in a pair of loose pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt from a band you didn’t even know. The rumble of your stomach reminds you of your hunger, so you walk into the kitchen intent on making a snack. Opening the fridge, you realize there’s not much, just some tuna spread, a few tomato slices, and some bread. It would do. You quickly make a sandwich, and with the first bite, you nearly roll your eyes in satisfaction. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until that moment. Then you think of Prowl. He was alone in the garage, stuck in vehicle mode, in an unfamiliar place. Even though you didn’t know much about his kind, you wondered if he might be hungry. He’d spent the entire day with you, and you hadn’t seen him eat anything. Did alien robots eat regularly? And if so, could they consume anything besides that weird blue stuff Optimus had mentioned? Well, he was a car after all.

Decided, you place your sandwich on a plate and head to your room. Rummaging through the closet, you find an old inflatable mattress stored in a box. You throw a pink blanket over one shoulder, tuck a pillow under your arm, grab the box handle with one hand, and the sandwich plate with the other, then head to the garage. Once in front of the garage door, you give it a light bump with your hip to open it. Even though Prowl’s vehicle form had no expression, you could feel his gaze on you. “What’s all this?” he asks, a hint of disguised curiosity in his voice. You smile “I came to keep you company!”

You set the plate, blanket, and pillow on an old wooden cabinet, then drop the box to the floor and kneel to open it. Prowl watches silently, intrigued, as you unfold the mattress and spread it out on the floor beside him. You turn to the cabinet and rummage through its doors until you find a small air pump. You attach the nozzle to the mattress valve and begin pumping it manually — up and down motions, pausing occasionally to rest before resuming. When it’s finally inflated, you give a few excited little hops and put the pump back where you found it. You grab the blanket and pillow and toss them onto the mattress, then take the plate and sit cross-legged, in lotus position, getting comfy. One hand brings the sandwich to your mouth while the other rests on your bare knee. “You know, I just don’t feel right leaving you here alone. What kind of host would I be? So, I’m sleeping here with you tonight,” you say with a wide grin.

If he were in his bipedal form, Prowl would definitely have wide optics right now “You do understand you don’t have to do this, right? I’m fine here,” he tries to protest but you raise a finger, cutting him off. “Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all…” you chuckle lightly, and he tries again, “No, I really do prefer being alon-”

“No need to thank me, Prowler. I’m doing this with love!” The sudden nickname catches him off guard, and he wants to ask about it. Explain that it’s weird since you two weren’t friends or close, but you ignore him and finish your sandwich. Then you get up, walk over to the cabinet, place your plate on top, and open one of the drawers to pull out a plastic jerrycan. “Obviously I don’t have any emergin, energun, whatever that thing is called… but if you want, I can go to the gas station and get you some gasoline. I figured diesel wouldn’t be good for you, so gasoline seemed like the safer bet.”

Silence fills the garage as you stare at him, blinking slowly while holding the canister. This time, Prowl can’t hold it in. He bursts out laughing, a loud and hearty laugh that shakes his entire frame. You keep staring, unsure why he’s laughing. He was a car; didn’t cars need gas? Maybe he was electric? After a few minutes, the mech finally regains enough composure to reply “We don’t digest gasoline,” he says between more chuckles “Only energon. But… I appreciate the gesture.” And that’s when you realize just how ridiculous you must have sounded to him. Still, it was a valid attempt, and at least you finally managed to make him laugh after so many failed tries.

You put the jerrycan back and return to the mattress, fluffing the pillow and lying down under the blanket. The silence between you is mostly comfortable, though he occasionally lets out a chuckle. By the fourth time, you huff and say, “Alright, it wasn’t that funny…” He chuckles again, and you find yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, it was oddly comforting. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect that offer.” While he still laughs softly, you reach out and give one of his tires a gentle punch. As strange as it was, that little blunder had opened the door to conversation, and you decide to take advantage of it. You ask him questions. He doesn’t answer all of them, but he doesn’t seem bothered by your chattiness either. And so you stay like that, talking for hours in the dark garage. When sleep finally washes over you, you turn to your side and say a soft ‘good night’. Prowl’s voice is low and gentle when he replies, “Good night, little chatterbox.”

#transformers #transformers prowl #transformers x reader #prowl x reader #maccadam

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crackedpumpkin · 5 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟏 |

a/n: this is shamefully not my best work but sorry for the late updates, life has been super shitty lately and I've been trying my best but being rejected from jobs and figuring out my own things has been a tough journey. i promise i'm writing as much as i can though! i still love writing my fics and all but haven't had enough spoons lately to do so. either way i still hope you guys enjoy this chapter, the next one's going to be her dad's birthday dinner 👀

taglist: @candyquokka @mikadough @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viannasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc @the-midnight-duck @fru1ty-bage3ls @elysiuansstuff @risagichi @mousedit

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

He’s an hour early.

Cole checks the time on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. He glances at the closed apartment door, pondering whether it’d be wise to just head upstairs and knock. He grins. You’d probably open the door in ratty pyjamas after having just woken up, frowning at the sight of him all dressed and ready to go. It’s not like you could simply turn him away either, you’re on too good terms with him for that.

Well, he hopes you’re on good terms at least. Though judging from the baffling number of tiny dildos you’d planted all around his room and belongings, he’s pretty sure you’ve had your fill of revenge.

Seriously though, the moment he saw the small glittery dildos in his shower gel, he knew he was fucked. It’d taken him ages to compile and discard an absurd amount, yet he was still finding them in jean pockets and somehow, in his computer. (He made a mental note to buy a new lock for his bedroom door.)

Still, he can’t help but look forward to today. He’d been preparing, armed with a collective of more girlfriend jokes you’d definitely scowl at.

The thought makes him grin.

He’d wait in his car, but he brought along his public transport pass for once and he was looking forward to sitting in the bus, letting someone else drive. It made a nice change from flying on Rocky.

Now, he’s patiently waiting at the carpark. He wasn’t avoiding the security on purpose, but it’s difficult to explain why he’s lounging around. Besides, he wasn’t in uniform either which would make everything thrice as hard.

He’s mid-performance, silently lip-synching to Rocket Man when he hears a clattering sound that echoes through the quiet. A brief, irritated exhale, then the sound of someone bending down to pick the dropped items up.

He peeks around the corner with bated breath, praying it’s not a thief he’d have to arrest on this peaceful, quiet day. Fortunately, it’s just a random woman whose exasperation is evident on her face. Her arms are full of grocery bags, one of which had ripped at the bottom. Cans of tuna and packets of vegetables litter the ground, making it difficult for her to bend down and reach with her hands occupied, holding her wallet and keys.

Cole makes his way over quickly, reaching down and picking up the scattered items with ease. “Here you go,” he says nonchalantly, looking around for any extra bags she might have before deciding that it’d be better to keep holding onto them.

“Thank you,” she says in relief. “My husband already went back upstairs. Could you help me carry them back to my house? It’s only a few floors up. I don’t have an extra bag and, well…” She gestures helplessly to the items in her arms.

“It’s no problem. I’m just waiting for my girlfriend so I can spare a moment.”

With his confirmation, she smiles. “Thank you, young man. What’s your name?” She starts heading to the lift with him following faithfully.

“It’s Cole,” he answers easily, shifting the weight of the groceries in his arms as he follows her to the lift.

“Well, thank you for helping me, Cole. You’re a very nice man. I’m sure your soulmate is just as great as you are.”

He swears his neck is just warm from the sun. He has been standing outside for a while, after all. “She sure is.”

The lady hums knowingly, stepping into the lift as the doors slide open. “She must be something special, huh? By the way, you can just call me Emily.”

“Nice to meet you, Emily.” Cole grins. “Oh, she’s a real treat,” he continues with an eye roll, voice laced with sarcasm. “Has a terrible sense of humour, by the way.”

“Oh?” Emily glances at him, intrigue written all over her face.

“Yeah, she–” Cole stops himself short. He could tell this stranger about your frequent hangouts and bets. How you somehow managed to sneak tiny glittery dildos into everything he owns. How he’s still finding them in the most inconvenient places. But that might be too much information for someone he’s just met.

“She’s… resourceful,” he settles on instead. “Gets away with a lot more than she should.”

Emily chuckles. “Sounds like your soulmate keeps you on your toes.”

“You have no idea.”

The lift dings and Cole watches as Emily shifts the groceries in her arms to press a button. His gaze flickers to the illuminated number.

Your floor.

He blinks.

Probably just a coincidence.

“So, what about you?” he asks, brushing the thought aside. “You mentioned your husband. He leaves you to carry all this by yourself?” He lifts the bags a little for emphasis.

Emily sighs, shaking her head with a small laugh. “He said he forgot something and had to run back upstairs. I told him I could handle it, but clearly, I underestimated my own planning skills.”

Cole grins. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” She tilts her head. “So, you said you were waiting for your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she–” Cole hesitates for half a second, suddenly aware of how easily he was falling into conversation. “Uh, she lives in this building.”

Emily nods. “Small world, then.”

The doors slide open, and Cole steps aside to let her exit first. He follows her out, still holding onto the bags.

“So, where am I dropping these off?” he asks, glancing down the hallway.

Emily shifts her grip on her keys, giving him a warm smile. “Oh, just a little further down. Right over here.”

But Cole barely hears her. Because at that exact moment, his eyes catch on a very familiar door.

Your door.

And Emily?

She’s sliding her key into the lock.

…Fuck me.

— — — — —

At the tender age of four, your worst nightmare was probably getting eaten alive by a pigeon. At ten years old, your mother finally convinced you that your worst nightmare would be being bitten by a werewolf.

Most recently, it’s was being thrust into a huge party on a boat where you know absolutely no one yet all their attention is on you. Also, you would be wearing the world’s ugliest outfit known to mankind.

None of that measured up to the sight of Cole peeking out from behind the bags of groceries at your goddamn front door, pure shock written all over his face as your name fell from his lips.

You freeze.

You were already tying your shoelaces, fully prepared to head downstairs and wait for him (not that you’d ever admit it though). But now, he’s here, standing in your doorway, carrying someone else’s groceries like it’s a normal Monday morning for him.

More importantly, Emily’s groceries.

“Wait—” You shake your head, grasping at logic like it’s a slippery fish, except this fish isn’t a fish, just pure, unadulterated bafflement. “What—? Why—?”

Cole attempts a half-wave. “...Mornin’.”

Your eyes flicker over him instinctively, taking in his outfit — dark jeans, a plain black shirt that fits him unfairly well, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Focus. Forget about how good he looks right now. The real problem is that he’s here. He’s here with Emily, of all people.

Your blood boils.

Emily, on the other hand, gasps, her face lighting up with realization. “Oh! You’re Cole’s girlfriend?”

A full-body shudder rips through you. “Excuse me?”

But Emily isn’t paying attention, her eyes darting between you both with a knowing smile. “I knew you’d find your soulmate one day.”

Your mouth drops open. If you accepted the hallucination in front of your eyes as reality, then maybe the buffering in your brain would finally stop.

Cole audibly chokes. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do come in,” Emily urges, stepping aside as Cole, still visibly stunned, automatically steps into the apartment. He only realizes his mistake when he locks eyes with you again.

You narrow your eyes. Your entire stance radiates irritation. Cole, for all his bravado, tenses under the intensity of your gaze, his hand tightening around a can of tuna as if it’s a lifeline.

Get out, you think, mentally willing him toward the exit. Turn around. Leave. Pretend none of this ever happened.

Your annoyance is palpable, enough for Emily to hesitate. Of all the people in this freaking city, why did he have to be here with her? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain this to—

“What’s all this commotion about?”

Oooooof course.

Whether by pure coincidence or the universe just decided to hurl all it’s got at you, your dad steps out of his room and into the living room, arms crossed as he surveys the scene. His eyes flick to Emily first, then to Cole, and then finally to you.

Emily brightens. “Oh! This kind young man helped me carry the groceries up. And guess what?” She gestures between you and Cole. “He’s actually her soulmate.” Her words trail off at the end when she notices the way your hands curl into fists at your side, and the way Cole is very evidently inching closer to the door by the second.

If there were ever a moment to simply cease existing, this would be it.

Your father’s brow lifts slightly, his gaze sliding to Cole, who is suddenly looking very, very invested in the nearest inanimate object. You don’t blame him.

Meanwhile, you? You are this close to spontaneously combusting.

This was not how you wanted your dad to find out. Not through Emily, not through a chance encounter, and definitely not when you had been actively avoiding the topic altogether.

You straighten your spine, clearing your throat in a poor attempt to dispel the growing tension. “Right. Well. Thanks, Cole, for your kind gesture.” You shoot him a pointed look that practically screams leave before I throw you out myself.

Emily frowns, glancing at him. “You should stay for a bit, have some tea before you leave.”

You inhale sharply through your nose.

Cole, in a rare moment of self-preservation, hesitates, eyeing you warily like he’s navigating a minefield. “I’m…I’m good. I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“So.” Your dad takes a few steps forward, clearly sizing him up with a quick scan. The frown on his face doesn’t leave. “You’re my daughter’s soulmate. What makes you qualified–”

You resist the urge to slam your head against the nearest surface. “Nope. We have to leave now. Gotta pick up your birthday cake and all!” You grab the remaining items from Cole’s arms and place them on the floor, grab his wrist and drag him out of the door faster than your dad can react.

After the door clicks shut, you grab the keys from your pocket and lock it quickly just in case.

Cole exhales beside you, shaking his head like he’s just barely avoided being flattened by a boulder. “Wow. Your dad’s intense.”

You shoot him a withering glare. “You think?”

Without waiting for a response, you stomp toward the elevator, jabbing at the call button with more force than necessary. The doors slide open almost immediately, and you step inside, your hold on his wrist meaning that he was basically dragged inside.

He hesitates for a split second, probably sensing the impending storm and how bad he fucked up. The second the doors slide shut, trapping you both in the small space, you turn to him, fury simmering just beneath the surface.

“You—”

But before you can get another word out, Cole’s fingers suddenly intertwine with yours, his grip warm and steady. Your brain short-circuits as he lifts your hand and, with a quick, effortless motion, presses a light kiss to your knuckles.

You freeze (again).

The thoughts that’d been running wild in your head buffer, mangled up somewhere between huh?, what the hell just happened?, and how’re his lips so soft?

The elevator hums quietly.

Cole, for his part, at least has the decency to look slightly sheepish when he meets your wide-eyed stare. He laughs nervously, still holding your hand. “Before you get mad at me, I just wanted to help a struggling civilian carry her groceries back to her apartment. I swear I had no idea she was your…stepmom?”

You blink. Once. Twice.

Then, with all the eloquence of a dying duck, you manage, “What the actual fuck?”

Cole lets out a low chuckle, his thumb briefly brushing over your knuckles before he finally releases your hand, stuffing both of his into his pockets. “So that is the right term?”

You sigh, running a hand (the unkissed one) down your face as you try to regain some semblance of composure. “Yeah,” you mutter, still reeling from the fact that he just. Just did that. “She married my dad last year.”

He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Huh. That’s…unexpected.”

“You’re telling me,” you grumble, pressing your back against the elevator wall. The lingering sensation of his lips on your skin refuses to dissipate, and you hate that your heart is still beating just a little too fast.

Cole leans beside you, carefully watching. “So…you’re not gonna murder me?”

Humming, you cast your gaze to the ground, observing how clean your white sneakers are in the dim light. “Not today, Brookstone.”

“Good.” He grins, capturing your hand in his once more. Before you can protest, he gently tugs you out of the lift when the doors open, subtly nodding in the direction of the apartment building hallways. “They can still see us from there.”

Begrudgingly, you allow it, following him to the bus stop. The bus arrives just as you reach, and he lets go of your hand to grab the bus pass from his pocket. You stare at it for a moment. “Are you boarding or not?” The bus driver yells, snapping you out of it. Quickly, you grab your own bus pass and tap it against the card reader, scanning the bus for seats before spotting Cole already having grabbed some near the exit doors.

Sliding into the seat next to him, you let out a slow breath, resting your hands on your lap. The bus jerks forward, and for the first time since stepping into your apartment, you allow yourself to simply breathe. No Emily. No Dad. No soulmate stuff. Just a mostly empty bus and the guy who caused this entire mess in the first place.

Cole nudges your knee with his. “So… your stepmom, huh?”

You side-eye him. “Yes, Cole, that’s generally what you call someone who marries your dad.”

“Right, right,” he says, nodding, then hesitates. “And, uh… your mom?”

“Oh, she’s just travelling right now.” You turn to him fully, raising a brow at his suddenly cautious expression. “Why? Did you think she was dead or something?”

Cole shifts, looking mildly uncomfortable. “No.” A beat. “Okay, yeah.”

You blink. “Seriously?”

He throws his hands up, his voice defensive. “Look, in my defense, you’re super vague about your family! Like, aggressively so.”

“I am not aggressively vague.”

Cole gives you a pointed look. “One time, Kai asked if you had siblings, and you said, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’”

You huff, crossing your arms. “That’s just being mysterious.”

“That’s being suspicious.”

You roll your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat. “Well, congratulations, detective. My mom’s alive. She’s just off being a wanderer right now. Last I checked, she was suntanning on a beach somewhere.”

Cole exhales dramatically, slumping back in his seat. “That’s a relief. For a second, I thought I had to prepare an ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ speech.”

You snort. “And how would that have gone?”

He straightens, clasping his hands together like he’s about to deliver a solemn eulogy. “My dearly beloved girlfriend, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your mother raised a truly terrifying and occasionally charming individual. I’m sure she would be–"

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You punch his arm lightly, biting back a laugh as he grins triumphantly.

The bus slows to a stop, and Cole rises first, offering you a hand with an easy smile. “Come on, terrifying and occasionally charming. Let’s get that cake.”

You hesitate for half a second before taking it, letting him pull you up.

It’s just because you need to get off the bus quickly. Nothing more.

The walk to the bakery is shorter than you expect, making a quick stop by the supermarket for Cole’s protein powder. The door jingles as it opens to signal your arrival. It smells just as heavenly as the last time you stopped by, with cinnamon sugar in the air and the sight of all the luscious pastries in their respective casings making your stomach growl.

“Calm down, we haven’t even picked up the cake yet.” You shove Cole away, his breath tickling your ear. He laughs, wandering to the counter where a different girl from last time is. He greets her cheerfully, leaning against the counter with a sense of ease.

Bile rises in your throat. Shoving it down, you ignore the sight and turn to the tarts. The jam filling is glossy and rich, the surrounding crust the right amount of flaky. It’s difficult to not commit theft right then and there.

Surely they wouldn’t miss just one–

“You’re here!”

Papa’s booming voice shakes you out of your pastry theft contemplation. You barely have time to react before the older man steps out from the doors that lead to the back kitchen, his apron dusted with flour and a broad grin spreading across his face.

“It is good to see you again,” he greets warmly, eyes twinkling as he takes in the way your gaze lingers on the tarts. “Come, come, no need to stare. Here.”

Before you can even protest, he reaches into the glass casing, plucks out a strawberry tart with practiced ease, and places it into a napkin before pressing it into your hand.

Your stomach growls again. Traitor. “Oh. Well. I can’t say no now.”

Papa chuckles. “You could, but you won’t.”

He’s not wrong. You waste no time sinking your teeth into the pastry, the burst of sweet jam and buttery crust making you hum in satisfaction. Just as you’re savoring it, Cole finally catches up, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket.

“Papa, you’re gonna spoil her.”

“Bah! You say this as if you are not any worse.” Papa crosses his arms with an exaggerated huff, though the mirth in his expression betrays him. “Always giving and never asking. Eve missed her tutor, you know.”

You blink mid-chew. “Who?”

“My granddaughter,” Papa explains, gesturing towards the girl Cole was talking to earlier. She grins back and waves, her dark curls tied back with a red ribbon. You wave back awkwardly. “She was sad you stopped visiting so much, but now that she has been accepted into the school of her choice, I told her she must work hard just like you taught her.”

You glance at Cole, who scratches the back of his neck, looking almost bashful. “I just helped her with some stuff,” he says, shrugging. “Papa’s always generous with me, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

The unexpected sense of relief that washes over you is… odd.

Shoving the feeling aside, you take another bite of the tart. “So, what you’re saying is, you secretly have a soft side.”

Cole scoffs. “What? No.”

Papa snorts, clapping a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “He does. A very big one.”

He groans. “Why do I come here?”

You smirk. “For the free food, obviously.”

“As if.” He rolls his eyes, lips curving into a grin.

Shrugging, you demolish the rest of the tart in a single bite. “You’re just jealous I’m his favourite.” His hand catches you by surprise, having reached up and casually wiped off some strawberry filling that had somehow gotten onto your cheek. The act is so familiar, your body automatically responding to it by tilting your head toward him.

When he draws his hand back and wipes it on the napkin you hand to him, your eyes meet Papa’s. You stiffen, glancing from his very entertained expression to Cole who’s about to grab the napkin.

Mortified, you instinctively, shove the napkin into Cole’s face, the latter letting out a muffled screech. You probably poked his nostril or something. Retracting your hand and ignoring the very hostile glare he directs your way as he cleans his finger, you clear your throat. “So, the cake I’m here to pick up…?”

Papa blinks. Then, a smile spreads across his face. “Of course! This way, let me take it out for you.” He heads to the counter and reaches below, pulling out a large box that has a simple ribbon tied on top. “As you requested, dark chocolate with hazelnut and strawberry filling, with whipped cream on top.”

He opens the side slot, revealing a beautifully decorated square cake, swirls and piped blobs lining the edges. Even after demolishing the strawberry tart, your stomach rumbles at the sight.

“It looks amazing,” you say in awe, barely resisting the urge to make up an excuse just to taste-test a slice.

“You’re sweaty.”

Cole’s grumble makes you pause mid-stare. You blink at him in bewilderment. He still looks offended from the napkin assault, but was that really the best insult he could come up with?

“At least the cake isn’t,” you shoot back, handing Papa a nod of approval. He grins and wraps the cake back up before handing it over with a proud smile.

The door shuts behind you with a soft jingle. As you juggle the cake and your bag, your phone buzzes with a notification. Reaching for it turns out to be a struggle, and after a few seconds of flailing like a fool, Cole grins and steadies your elbow, plucking the phone from your bag with his free hand.

Sighing in defeat, you readjust your grip. “I haven’t changed my password. Who is it? If it’s another spam text, I’m staging a rebellion.”

Cole doesn’t answer right away. When the silence stretches too long, you glance at him, catching the wary expression on his face.

“It’s not spam, but…” He trails off and turns the screen toward you.

Sperm Donor (real) [ 12:39 PM ]: bring your boyfriend over for dinner later

“I’m going to kill myself.”

Cole chuckles and smoothly takes the cake box from your hands. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. You haven’t even told them about me?”

“Why would I?” You frown, but something about the way his smile falters makes your stomach twist. “I don’t really talk about my soulmate with them. You met my dad, didn’t you?”

The words slip out before you can stop them, your voice coming out lighter than you feel. “Besides, anything to do with my love life is off limits. I’m not about to go shouting from the rooftops that my soulmate is the Earth Ninja, thank you very much.”

Cole’s fingers tighten around your phone for half a second before he hands it back, his usual easy-going expression dimming just a fraction. “Right. Guess that makes sense.”

You frown, tucking the phone away. “You sound weird.”

“You sound weird.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I just figured you would’ve mentioned me at some point.”

“I did.”

His gaze flicks to yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say lightly, shifting the cake box to one arm. “I told my dad you’re an idiot. Obviously it was more in the context of the friends I’ve made recently, not so much towards the entire–” you motion to the both of you, “this.”

Cole snorts. “Oh, great. That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Bet he’s super excited to meet me now.”

“He already met you.” You flash a grin. “And miraculously, you’re still standing. Of course it’s thanks to me, whom you should definitely buy a treat for, considering I risked my life.”

His lips twitch, but the humor doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, I just thought–” He pauses, scratching at his jaw. “I dunno. You always talk about how Emily’s constantly trying to talk to you, so I figured she would’ve pried something out of you.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, she tried. But the thing is…” You hesitate, the words thick on your tongue. Then, because something in you knows he won’t drop it, you force them out. “I don’t really like talking about soulmates.”

Cole tilts his head slightly, curiosity breaking through whatever disappointment still lingers. “Why?”

You chew on your lip. “I just… never really thought about having one. Not seriously, anyway.” You vaguely remember having this brief conversation before, but never once did you really delve into the nitty gritty details with him. Not that you wanted to.

He raises a brow. “Didn’t think about it? Or didn’t want to?”

You huff. “Does it matter?”

“Kinda.”

You glance away, watching a couple walk by, arms slung loosely around each other. “Most people find their soulmates early. Before sixteen, that’s the norm. So when I never did, I just figured–” You make a vague motion with your hand. “I dunno. That I wasn’t meant to have one. That maybe it just… wasn’t in the cards for me.”

Cole stays quiet, watching you carefully.

“It’s not a big deal,” you add quickly, feeling too exposed. “It’s just with everything that happened with dad and mum, maybe it’s easier off not having one. And she was fine. So I just assumed I’d be the same way.”

The admission settles between you. It feels odd saying it out loud, something you never meant to give shape to.

Cole, thankfully, doesn’t jump in with some I’m sorry or But I can fix you type of shenanigans which would have definitely gotten him a well-deserved punch. He simply studies you for a moment before nudging your arm. “And now?”

You sigh dramatically. “Now I have to deal with you.”

His grin returns, slow and lopsided. “Tragic.”

“The absolute worst.”

He lets the conversation breathe for a second before he speaks again, quieter this time. “So, is that why you didn’t say anything? To your dad and Emily?”

You shift, gripping the cake box a little tighter. “I just… wasn’t ready.”

Cole doesn’t say anything at first. Then, he exhales and gives you a half-smirk. “Guess I’ll have to work extra hard to make you proud to be soulmates with me.”

You snort. “That is so not the takeaway from this conversation.”

“Oh, it definitely is.”

You groan, rolling your eyes as you start walking. “I hate you.”

“Eh,” he grins, easily falling into step beside you. “I can live with that.”

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