#☽ wandering the dreaming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crow-raven-crow · 6 months

Note

Heyyy, love your writing!

It’s a bit specific but I was wondering if you could do a Larissa x reader fic where reader takes antidepressants but stopped taking them for whatever reasons then decided to start taking them again and gets really bad serotonin syndrome as her body gets used to the meds again? And Larissa is just concerned. Like just a cute fluff kinda type vibe???

Much love and take care x

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~1.8k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: FLUFF, serotonin syndrome (symptoms and definition below), numbness, emptiness, ungrounded feelings, restlessness, crying, soft love, literally so soft i melted writing this i love larissa

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see ask above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

Serotonin Syndrome - a potentially fatal drug-induced condition caused by too much serotonin in the synapses in the brain. This is caused by a medication or mix of them building up high levels of serotonin.

Signs and symptoms include: restlessness, insomnia, confusion, rapid heart rate, high blood pressure, dilated pupils, loss of muscle coordination, twitching muscles, muscle rigidity, nervousness, sweating, nausea, blurred vision, feeling like you're in a dream like state

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The covers gave you no comfort tonight - fabrics and scents you usually melted into only stuck to your skin like static. The darkness of the room was casted away by the welcomed silver light of the moon, but the clouds at the edges of your vision only fed restlessness and frustration to you by the spoonful as you turned over for what felt like the thousandth time that night. Your body felt stiff, stuck, tired as you continued to beg it for some rest.

You were back on your antidepressants after long days of contemplation. You didn't think it would be this hard, things never seemed this hard.. The blankness, the dullness that compressed your mind being oh so silent yet all too loud at the same time - the overwhelming presence and lack of your thoughts that stood stationary at the front of your mind pressed on with no will to stop. Your body felt heavy, your bones carrying an ache you wished to forget.

You moved to her side of the bed, bringing your knees close to your chest as you inhaled small pieces of her perfume. For how exhausted you were, the rapid hammering of your heart only served as a reminder of how much longer you could be awake tonight. The pounding in your ears didn't settle no matter how hard you tried to calm your breaths, and the constant inhale and exhale was taking much more out of you than you'd like to admit. You moved the covers off of your body, upset at the layer of sweat that covered your skin, and forced the cool air of the night to shock your system.

As waves of goosebumps appeared across your skin and shivers ran through you, your eyes wandered over to the golden light seeping in from underneath the bedroom door. Your lover sat beyond those walls, a goddess of comfort, a source of haven that you were so grateful to have. You longed to forget this heavy feeling. Running your hands over your legs, you thought of the comforting warmth that sat just past those doors, the gentle kisses, the softest touches, the sanctuary that was just feet away.

You breathed in through your nose, feeling the air swirl in through you until you felt your lungs max out, hoping that the action alone would calm the newfound pit growing in your stomach, and stood as you pushed the air out of your mouth. The long night had slowly turned into a dream to you, the chill you felt under the moonlight only adding to the pull that the golden glow gave to you. You felt weightless as your feet sunk into the rug underneath you, yet the weight in your chest was ever present the closer you got to holding your hand out towards the handle.

Wood, dark and ancient and carved and worn - the only thing that separated you from something you wanted so badly, from someone you wished to melt into. The doorknob shocked your fingertips as you took hold of it, the small spark of light being enough to cause your heart to rage on again. Your lips formed into a thin line, your mind blanking as the sudden thought of going back to the bed faded from your mind - you pushed forward.

The heavy door creaked as it moved, showing its age as your wish to walk into her presence quietly slipped away from you. Your mind acknowledged the fact that you had entered the space completely, but you couldn't help but feel disconnected from yourself - knowing that you had entered a new room, touching the cold planks under your feet, feeling the heat from the roaring flames greeting your side, yet not knowing if you were truly awake.

The door to your shared quarters shut with a click, and your eyes slowly made their way to the concerned figure presented at the desk. Her hair was pure white as the moonlight guided though each strand, but the flames that burned in front of her painted her features in a caramel hue. Her eyes, capsules that carried the ocean in their blues, wandered over your tired figure in growing worry - gliding over your wrinkled, oversized shirt, to the fidgeting of your hands, to the small heaves of your chest. She took in every ounce that you offered her, and damn did she read it all like a book.

"Darling.. Is everything alright..?" Her voice cut through the air like a hot knife to butter, her accent coursing through the room and wrapping you in its safe hold, the love, the worry dripping from it completely unhidden from your soul. It was hard to focus, your eyes moving in slow, blurred circles around the room that made the cloudy edges of your vision ever more present.

"U-Um.." You didn't mean for your voice to crack, didn't mean for it to break and weaken and fade out and run from you since you never wanted anyone to worry, since you never wanted her to worry… But you were hers.. and she was yours, so she knew the truth without asking.. So of course at the first sound of your voice escaping your lips in such a small way she was already up to her feet.

The soft pads of her heels stepping onto the large rug beneath her desk soon faded into heavy clicks against the dark wood floor, growing louder until they stopped in front of you. Her fingertips, gentle and soft with their touch, traced over the curves of each of your wrists. They circled around and traced their way up your arms, the touch grounding you and bringing you back to her.

Your eyes slowly focused on hers as one of her hands came to rest on the curve of your waist, the other moving to cup your cheek. It was easy to melt into her touch, to melt into the present when you were with her. Her thumb traced back and forth against your cheek as her eyes jumped from every little bit of your features, scanning your face with a quiet worry.

It was like your body allowed everything to crumble as you stood there in front of your love, the adoration and true care that radiated from her being all it took to let your true exhaustion show. A shaky sigh left you as your body felt heavy again, and your eyes, now glossy, finally opened again to meet hers.

"Darling..?" You didn't know if it was the way her thumb stopped moving against your cheek as she saw the true emotion in your eyes, or the way that her other hand sprawled out to touch more of your skin, or the way her voice got evermore quieter as she looked at your fragile being, but a choked sob broke through you with no restriction.. then another.. and another.. and suddenly you found the stream near impossible to stop.

"Oh, my love.. Come here, darling - I've got you, I promise.." Her voice lifted you into her trance, safe and warm, as she pulled you into her arms. She pressed small kisses against your hairline, her hands tracing patterns along your back as you pressed into her. Your hands were quick to grab onto the fabric of her dress, holding on as though your life depended on it, to find some sense of reality again. Your crying was quiet, yet wrecked your body with a release it needed as your tears soaked into her grey dress.

You listened as her rapidly beating heart came to a slow, the rise and fall of her chest becoming an easier task to follow as she asked you to breathe with her. Soon, the lightness that you were missing, that you seemed to be begging for, rose to your chest, your breaths matching and mixing together as the fire crackled on next to you, as the moon grew evermore present in the sky.

You felt her pull away, but before you could move, her rose painted lips were pressed against your forehead. It was gentle, full of adoration, full of pride… A blush was quick to grow on your cheeks as you watched the goddess pull away to meet your gaze, the smallest of smiles coming up to curl her lips. She understood every part of you, and seeing her acknowledge something so small yet so hard for you only made love settle in your chest.

"Why don't we get to bed, hmm?" You knew it wasn't a question, especially when she saw the exhaustion in your eyes, the heaviness in your stance, especially when the release you had just overcome started to present the toll it really took on you.

She was an easy woman to follow, a better one to try to please, so when her hand glided over to the small of your back with a small push towards the bedroom, it was as though your legs moved on their own. The haze that was over you was different than the one you had felt when you left the room, and you were so grateful that she was able to help you change that with just her company alone.

Your body sunk into the mattress, the foam latching onto your limbs and pulling you into it's welcoming hold. The covers were cold as she pulled them over you, something you appreciated when your head met the pillow. Your eyes were quick to close, the weight of your lids making itself known, but you still tuned into the rustling you heard throughout the room.

Just as the small sounds became white noise to you, they stopped completely and nearly prompted you to open your eyes, but the opportunity was taken away when you felt the mattress dip on the other side of you, replacing a hope with a lovely fact. Arms, hushed and secure, were quick to wrap themselves around you after you felt her body settle. You turned in her hold, your own arms coming to rest on her waist as you buried your head in the crook of her neck, your fingers lightly tracing the expanse of her porcelain skin.

The lingering smell of her perfume filled your lungs, and the soft hum of her heartbeat was something easy for you to sink into. Her hand pushed underneath your shirt, smoothing over the skin of your back and traced mindless patterns there. With another sweet kiss to your head, her voice, low yet soft, rang out in the new lightness of the room, "Sleep well, you sweet thing.. I promise, I've got you.."

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: CRYING SOBBING BANGING THE WALLL

I LOVE WRITING LARISSA FLUFF COME ONNN

this one was very healing for me to write. i've been feeling a lot of emotions lately as i've forced myself to work through things and being able to have something like this was really helpful.

larissa is a comfort character to a lot of us, and i am so honored that someone trusted me to write something that can be so personal sometimes. we all need a person like larissa sometimes

im so sorry ive been mia LMAO so much is going on. im officially a double major (yippie lol) and im looking for a house with some friends and its midterm season andddd i increased my hours at work aaannnnddd ya know life LOL

BUT

im glad you all are so understanding <3 it warms my heart when you all still think of me or mention me because this is a really nice part of my life that i am soooo grateful for :)

here you go anon :) sorry it took so long - thank you so much for your patience <33 i hope you liked it!

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

as always, feel free to ask to be added :)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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cheollipop · 2 years

Text

love you goodbye

navi | taglist

pairing: park seonghwa x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.7k

tags: smut, angst, lots of angst, and even more angst

when seonghwa received a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he all but threw himself at it—except, he had to leave you behind. with his plane ticket sitting idly on his bedside, he bids you one final goodbye.

warnings: breakup sex, unprotected sex (boooo 👎🏼), creampie, lots of crying (a LOT of crying), lots of L bombs too bc they're still very much in love and life SUCKS, nicknames (hwa, pretty girl, sweet girl, darling, love, sweetheart)

A/N: I feel the need to issue a formal apology for this one. once I started it, I just couldn't stop —I originally planned it to be around 1k words... but, well. ehem. anyway. this was kind of inspired by 2521 too, soo... enjoy? haha.. ha.

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew from the start that Seonghwa was hiding something from you, but you decided not to address it, not until he was ready to approach you on his own. He was never good at keeping secrets—a rush of nervous energy taking over him at the mere thought of it. He'd stutter when you'd question him, struggle to meet your eyes, fiddle with his thumbs—all telltale signs that he was a crumbling mess on the inside, guilt and anxiety eating at his very soul.

The signs started early this time, and yet, you pretended not to notice. How his mind would wander into unknown territory while you spoke about your day, his attentive eyes and curious nods replaced by a blank stare while he feigned engrossment. How he closed his laptop as soon as you stepped foot into the room, claiming he was suddenly tired and wanted to go to sleep when you questioned him. How he lied awake in bed hours after turning the lights off and kissing you goodnight, tossing and turning and exhaling deep sighs while he wrestled with his thoughts.

You remained patient, still set on waiting for him to take the first step. But when Seonghwa got into bed just before dawn reeking of cigarettes, the stench so strong you had to wash your sheets the next day, you couldn't sit still anymore. Especially so after seeing the ashtray on your balcony filled to the brim with the squashed buds—despite having emptied it two days ago—with two empty cigarette packets thrown haphazardly beside it on the small table.

"They offered me a job in Paris, and it's… it's a really good job," he'd answered when you finally confronted him. Once in a lifetime, he had described it. His dream job; something he had been working towards since before he'd met you. And so, who were you to ask him to stay? To ask him to let this opportunity go, simply to keep him for a little while longer? Before he began to hate you for it, before he realized that he shouldn't have listened to you—that he should have let you go when he had the chance.

So you told him to take it, pushing back the tears stinging at your eyes and plastering a smile onto your face—you could only hope it looked convincing. And yet, Seonghwa didn't look pleased. Quite the opposite, he began to cry, hot tears streaming down his face while he yelled and screamed at how unbelievable you were—letting him go so easily.

In spite of that, Seonghwa listened to you, accepting the offer. You knew you had to be supportive of his decision despite the burning in your chest when he stopped fighting against the idea of leaving you. Part of you hoped he would stay for you and still love you all the same, but it seemed like those two statements could never exist together.

You felt cruel for the satisfaction you felt at his hesitance while you sat down to book his plane ticket, locking in the decision the both of you dreaded. But still, you had to be supportive, even if that meant booking the ticket yourself because Seonghwa's hands wouldn't stop shaking. The breath of relief he exhaled after the confirmation screen loaded made your stomach stir, your dinner mixed with bile and pure despair inching their way up your system and collecting at the back of your throat. You swallowed them down and threw on your best smile, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

"We should set a time to call. By the time I wake up, you would be at work, but if we-"

"Seonghwa," you interrupted, the lump in your throat growing bigger the more you heard him speak about the future.

You knew the second he told you about the job that you wouldn't be able to handle a long-distance relationship. You had been living together for over a year, dating for several more; having him more than ten meters away from you for longer than a day would be too absurd to comprehend. Seeing him less than three times a year? You'd be more convinced with a UFO outside your window.

"What? I promise I'll find the time, I just need to adjust my schedule and-" he continued and the throbbing in your chest almost made you double over in pain.

"Let's just end it all."

–

The slow ticking of the clock on the wall across from you, the suitcases packed full of Seonghwa's belongings, the insistent shuffling of bodies against the sheets—they all wrote themselves into the memory of his last day with you.

Seonghwa stilled above you, the sheen of sweat covering his body reflecting the moonlight where it peeked through the window. His eyes took in your expression, your features, and everything about you; all the while, his hands ran over the curves of your body, stopping momentarily to tweak at your nipples before wrapping around your waist.

"Hwa, please move," you whined and rolled your hips against him, his cock sheathed inside you.

Seonghwa slid a hand down to your hips, stilling their movements before leaning closer to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. He trailed kisses down to your jaw, then back up across your cheeks to your temple. His hips ground against yours, pressing against the gummy spot that made your eyes roll back.

"H-hwa, more," you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your nails digging into his biceps.

"Shh, there's no rush," he whispered against your skin, still placing kisses wherever he could.

You knew there was no rush. The way he made you fall apart on his tongue and fingers over and over again for what felt like hours was enough proof of that; but perhaps part of you was in a hurry to get this over with, this final goodbye that you'd been dreading for weeks. Seonghwa had looked at you with those big eyes, wet and glimmering as he spoke, "Can I have you? One last time. Please, let this be the last thing I ever ask of you." You had to pretend that his words did not shatter your heart, the pieces piercing through your insides every time he looked at you with anguish staining his features.

He's had you in every way possible, but this felt different. The slow grinding of his hips against yours, his cock heavy between your walls—still, he moved slowly, as if chasing his orgasm was the last of his concerns—his feathery touch raising goosebumps all over your skin. It was intimate in ways you never wished it to be, in ways that tore your heart out of your chest and left you bleeding out.

"How am I supposed to just let you go?" He breathed out against your neck while his hips continued their grinding, his pelvis brushing against your clit.

Your hands eased around his biceps, wrapping around him instead and pressing into his back. A bitter smile curled the corners of your lips. "I'm sure you'll find a pretty French lady as soon as you land-"

"But I want you," he pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, his own heavy with tears. "I need you, (Y/n)."

Your eyes burned as hot tears gathered along your waterline. "You need to let me go, Hwa," your voice shook, barely over a whisper.

He wasn't oblivious to the facade you had been hiding behind, concealing your hurt to support his decision so he wouldn't beat himself up for leaving you. Perhaps he willingly chose to ignore it, finding it easier to believe that he was the only one bearing an aching heart. It was only now that he became conscious of his selfishness—leaving you to deal with your sorrow and grief alone rather than being there for you. Rather than being there for each other.

Seonghwa knew he couldn't go back to fix his mistakes, so he resorted to focusing on making you feel good, watching as pleasure overtook your features with every roll of his hips. His hand cupped your jaw, and his lips slotted against yours. You reciprocated, pressing your lips against his, and at that, Seonghwa almost let out a sigh of relief. The kiss was soft, gentle, paired with the easy twist of tongues.

In the few hours he had left with you, he wanted to have you in every way he could think of. Seonghwa wanted everything about you to forever be engraved into his mind—from your features and how they reacted everytime his cock pressed against your favourite spot, to the blush on your cheeks when he told you he loved you.

Seonghwa drew his length halfway out of you, sinking it back into your clenching heat, feeling your legs twitch against his hips as you took him inch by inch between your pulsing walls.

"Hwa, h-hwa, please just- ah," your nails dug into the soft skin of his back and you rolled your hips to meet his slow thrusts.

He reveled in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him, sucking him in down to the base and refusing to let him go. He sucked a bruise under your jaw—something to remember him by; as if you could ever forget.

"Sweet girl," he kissed you, a gentle brush over your lips. "I love you so much."

His words sent a jolt of pain through your chest, tears pooling in your eyes once again. "Seonghwa…"

He ignored the strain in your voice. "Let me take care of you." He kissed away the trail of tears running down your temple. "Will you let me love you one last time?"

You brought your hands to Seonghwa's face, wiping away the wetness staining his precious skin. You nodded, a broken sob escaping you while you spoke, "one last time."

You held each other, bodies flush while Seonghwa pounded his cock into you, grinding his hips into yours before going back to fucking you at a relentless pace.

His eyes never wavered off your face, and he denied every request to change positions—he wanted to see you, to take you in fully, to write you so accurately into his mind he could draw you with his eyes closed.

"Nghhh, Hwa. Fuck- I'm so close," you moaned against his mouth before he muffled your sweet melodies with his lips.

He pressed his hand onto the underside of your thigh, spreading you open and allowing him to stuff you full of his cock with every thrust. Your legs trembled under his touch, a breath away from coming undone.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so well, my love. Oh, my pretty girl, I'm going to miss you so much," he nuzzled his nose against yours while he molded your lips together, swallowing all your moans.

The look in his eyes—so full of love and grief—was the last thing you remembered before you tipped over the edge, your body seizing up under Seonghwa as pleasure rushed through you like a shockwave. His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles around it while he continued to pump his cock into you.

"Hah, J-just a little more, a-ahh," he blew heavy breaths into your open mouth, his tongue slipping out to lick over your top lip. "Where do you want me, sweetheart?"

"I-Inside, please. Fill me up, Hwa," you clawed at his back, eyes shut tightly as the pain from overstimulation mixed with pleasure, Seonghwa's cock punching against the spot that made your back arch.

His hips stuttered, managing a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling his seed inside you, warmth spreading through your abdomen as ribbons of white decorated your walls. A series of I love you's streaming from the both of you as you rode out your highs.

Something hot dropped onto your cheek. Opening your eyes, you were met with Seonghwa's own, bloodshot and glassy with overflowing tears dripping onto your skin. His broken sobs pierced through the stillness in the room, shaking his whole body as they ripped through his chest, and the pain squeezed at your heart so tightly you thought it might arrest.

You held him against your chest while he cried, his softening cock still stuffed inside you. Rubbing slow circles into his back, you waited until his breathing steadied before you spoke.

"It's the right thing to do, leaving," you muttered, afraid to speak any higher.

He sniffled, burying his face further into your chest. "I know," he whispered, voice nasally and hoarse.

A few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again, your bottom lip wobbling as you tried to get the words out.

"Hwa, please be happy-"

"(Y/n), don't."

"Just let me- p-please, I need to-" your voice broke, tears falling into his hair and wetting the soft strands.

Seonghwa remained quiet, and you took it as a sign to continue.

"T-take care of yourself, and make sure you're not s-skipping meals," you sniffled, pressing your lips to his temple as you spoke. "Make friends so you're not alone there, and go out with your coworkers, but don't get t-too drunk because I won't be there to take care of you-" You felt his shoulders shake against you, wetness dripping down your collarbones. "I won't ask you to forget about me, I don't want that either. But at least try to find love, Hwa. I-I want you to be happy," you placed kiss after kiss against the side of his face, carding your fingers through his hair. "Are you even listening?"

You smiled against his temple when he nodded, his voice rough from crying, broken with sobs.

"I'm going to m-miss you so much."

–

Seonghwa lied awake for hours after you had tucked yourself into his chest, breathing out a final I love you before succumbing to the grip of sleep.

He heard the early birds singing outside your window, and yet the joyful melody did nothing to ease the harrowing ache in his chest. He stayed there long enough for them to leave their nest, soaring across the sky in celebration of the new day. But Seonghwa stayed there, lying on his side with his arms secured around your figure, storing every last detail about you—every last blemish scattered across your skin—into his mind. For hours, he studied the angle at which your nose sloped, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers squeezed at his skin in your sleep, how the first rays of sunlight peeked through the open blinds to cast shadows over your features. He wondered how long it would be before he'd begin to forget certain things about you—the scent of your perfume, the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled, your favourite songs, your usual café order. He also wondered whether moving across the globe would even matter, if it made a difference, or would everything that made you so uniquely you be etched into his mind forever?

"Wake me up before you go," you'd told him before you fell asleep, but he couldn't bear having to say goodbye again. So he turned your alarms off, watching your peaceful expression and wondering what you were dreaming about. He hoped it was something nice, something other than him.

Quietly rolling his suitcases outside, Seonghwa walked back into your once shared bedroom, memories dripping off the painted walls. He crouched by your bedside, his eyes finding your face, resting calm and placid on your pillow. He pressed his lips against your forehead, keeping them there for a few seconds and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"I hope you get everything you've ever wanted, my love," he whispered against your skin, eyes prickling with tears. But I hope I never hear a thing about it, he added silently.

As Seonghwa closed the door behind him, his keys left behind on your kitchen island, he finally allowed reality to seep into his mind. He was leaving, and you were letting him go. He walked down the hallway while he tried to process the emotions rushing through him, his plane ticket sitting idly in his coat pocket.

There was no place for you and him in this world, not if the both of you wanted to be happy. But perhaps in another life, you would finally get your happy ending.

apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez smut #ateez ff #kpop #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa angst #ateez angst #seonghwa imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

omg you’re sooo sweet!! I love your writing and it amazes me how you intend to just do a small drabble but it’s always series worthy & ik that’s not what you plan but that’s how interesting your stories get🥹 but I have so many ideas for the “how time has changed you” couple (you don’t have to do them all or at all, just a few ideas) but maybe you can tell us more about how they met, how she fought him and how he finally got her into Stockholm syndrome, and maybe some smut along the way either right before she fell into Stockholm syndrome so (dubcon/somno) or after and their just so thirsty for each other 😮‍💨

it’s all in your head:

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genre: more angst than fluff || mafia au || yandere au || non-idol au

summary: you're the one that let yourself fall

word count: 2.1k

tags/ warnings: kidnapping, implied stockholm syndrome, unintentional mind break/ mentioned disassociation, mentions of minor injuries (bruises)

notes: chronologically happens before ‘how time has changed you’ but i think reading hthcy first is probably better ~ drabble requests closed (peep the gorillaz reference in the title) also!!! thank you??? you're sweet too my love <3 and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my stuff??

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･｡��☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Human beings are flawed in design. And somewhere, mingled between all the self-loathing thoughts, somewhat of a god complex had formed.

You wouldn’t ever tell anyone, hot embarrassment too much to handle, but truly you felt as though you were untouchable. Like the universe had a secret little rule written somewhere in the stars that luck was always on your side.

It had been a harsh slap to the face when reality had settled in. It was strange how for days you’d been watching yourself from outside of your body. Someone so familiar yet so different, who had your face, your mannerisms, everything so very you; yet she’d fallen into the claws of a beast. No longer exempt from the evils of the world.

While you covered your ears at the incessant banging at the bedroom door, you from the real world simply curls up further into herself.

You were aware that your captor wasn’t going to open the door. You hadn’t exactly been the kindest in your first few days here, more than a few bruises littering his skin from your outbursts. Sticky guilt seizing your body when you’d catch a glimpse of his arms painted purple from an unjust kick, because somehow you knew he never had plans to touch you if it wasn’t on your own terms.

The little control you had over your life in the form of a lock and key. Yoongi had found himself more than worried when you wouldn’t even open the door for food, never below begging for you to come out even if only briefly because really your health was the most important thing.

Through prickly thoughts of impossible escape and wallowing in self-pity, you’d tried to figure out where you’d met Yoongi. Because even if you had come across thousands of faces between meeting him, surely you wouldn’t forget eyes like his. A thousand secrets hidden behind eyes almost as black as the night sky; eyes that would have no problem picking you apart with nothing but a single glance.

He seemed to know you quite well. Seemingly knowing small, insignificant things about you. Favourite foods, snacks you’d always seem to eye when you’d wander into a convenience store of an evening. Every little hobby you’d picked up in the last six months stacked on a coffee table. Clothes you’d been eyeing online for weeks, sat in a basket that truly you had no intention of buying; a faraway dream that’s not as far as it seems.

A prison disguised as a perfect bedroom. And as much as the bed had looked tempting, silk duvet sure to do wonders for your skin and blankets that were made of velvet; you hadn’t dared fall asleep. Not until your body had begged for rest and you’d spend an hour napping on the woollen rug, only to be woken by a tray of food being slipped through the door.

The first time you become somewhat aware of your physical body again is when Yoongi doesn’t show up one morning. Doesn’t tell you stories of his life, doesn’t sit there as you stare at your food; praying that he would leave you alone. That he’d let you go, or at least answer the questions that have you falling into an endless hole of hysteria.

You shower. A rushed ordeal because you didn’t know when Yoongi would return. And then you’d fallen asleep on the rug until the sun had dipped below the horizon and Yoongi had made himself comfortable outside your door again.

You’d tried to run, dreams of a world so far out of your grasp dying in your hands as you stand there only to find heavy footsteps that stalked the halls, a brutal reminder that you wouldn’t get very far even if you tried.

The windows didn’t open, you’d tried that. Too scared to try and smash them open, sure they were specially made– impossible to break.

You’d lost all concept of time. Days bleeding into nights. Hours melting into one another. Where seconds are nothing more than fine dust, something you relied on truly nothing but a concept. Unattainable no matter how long you tried to count each minute or guess the day of the week. Every day is a repeat of the last. The only difference would be what Yoongi would talk about, gravelly voice ricocheting throughout your mind until you lay there awake hours after he’d gone to bed, replaying everything he’d told you that evening.

You’re not sure when it happens, but you start to expect Yoongi. Knowing that when delicate orange light spills into your room from the window, the sky the prettiest shade of pink, he’d be there.

Yoongi never opened the door. Voice bold enough that you can hear everything he says, walls thin enough that you can hear each deep sigh that passes through his lips when he talks about certain things that irk him just that little bit.

When Yoongi talked, and you listened, the world was shrouded in darkness. And you simply floated, merely existed. No expectations, not that you knew of anyways. And maybe he had a hidden agenda, something a little more sinister lurking behind airy words that silenced every niggling thought in your mind that kept you awake every night.

You don’t think much of it when Yoongi doesn’t show up one evening. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have done this. Sure to come tomorrow morning with a plate full of cake, maybe those cookies that you liked; way too expensive for you to ever splurge on. Hot chocolate or sweet tea, you’re unsure though he seems to decide based off the weather, and so you’ll have to see what a new day brings you before you hazard a guess.

And so, you deal with the silence of the bedroom for one evening.

By the second day of silence, you’d found yourself staring at the door again, every little creak of the floorboards in the hallway causing you to perk up. Tips of your fingers burning as you dig your nails into the carpet, feet tapping against the floor, bottom lip chewed between your teeth. Every passing hour of deafening silence tugging you further and further into a spiral.

Without Yoongi’s voice your thoughts had amplified.

You hadn’t been here long in retrospect, a month? Maybe a little more. Surely he hadn’t already gotten sick of you? How pitiful would that be? The very man who had shown an inkling of an obsession was already done with you.

Day four, and you’re sat by the door, startling one of the maids who had come to give you breakfast.

You bang your head against the wall once she closed it, the tray kicked away from you as frustrated tears cling to your lashes. Something suffocating grabbing onto your neck, a phantom hand cutting off your air as you tug at your hair.

Self-pity is a terrible thing. An ugly emotion mutating into something a little worse until you can physically feel the sadness, tugging at your temples in the form of a headache, salty cheeks, tight with tears, or a heart that feels infinite times heavier compared to the ache of rocky blue sadness.

As the sun rises on the sixth day, you decide to keep the bedroom door open, in hopes that a breeze from the open windows downstairs would carry some of the wretched thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how hard you tried to drown them out.

You’d tried washing them down the drain, scalding hot shower only burning your skin, red-raw and tender to touch– physical twinge of pain still not enough to make the world silent.

You’d sat in front of the CD player for an hour before you’d flicked through piles of plastic cases to find a song you liked. And you hadn’t been all that surprised to find they were all your favourite artists. You’d only managed to blast one song before you’d kept the volume down, always listening out for all the little noises outside the room.

On the seventh day, you’d sat in the doorway of the bedroom, legs tucked up to your chest. You’d only made brief eye contact with the herculean man standing opposite your door before you’d retreated back into your own mind. Because as much as it was tempting, you wouldn’t dare ask where Yoongi was, sickly hatred still gnawing away at the back of your mind.

On the eighth day, one of the maids had asked if you wanted to take a stroll in the garden; that hauling yourself up in the bedroom all day isn’t healthy. And something inside of you had fallen out of place. So completely out of character, you couldn’t recognise yourself.

You’d started flinging pillows and blankets off the bed at Yoongi’s staff, unsure if what was coming out of your mouth was words of sobs or shaky little cries. Your body seemingly moves on its own, free will fizzling in your hands as you act on impulse.

“What’s all this?”

You stop, hiccuping as Yoongi stands in the doorway, blurry; veiled by tears that cling to wet lashes.

“Out. All of you”

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, knees cushioned by long-forgotten blankets as you drop to the floor. Footsteps of those scuttling out of the room drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your ears.

Yoongi runs his thumb over his bottom lip, your shoulder shaking as you swallow down another sob.

He crouches, still far enough away from you.

“What’s all this about, darling?” he soothes.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” you kick at the blankets underneath you, “first you fucking take me without asking–”

“It’s for your own good” he shakes his head, “I did it for you”

“Bullshit” you laugh, “Normal people don’t do this”

“You and I come from two very different worlds, baby”

You push the palms of your hands into the sockets of your eyes, “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you”

Yoongi hums, gentle as he takes a step forward, slow so you can see he merely wants to be closer, “But I know you”

“And that makes it okay for you to act like you care and then leave for days?”

He blinks, “Is that what this is about?” a laugh bubbling up his throat, “You were lonely, is that it? Because you could have asked for me and I would have come straight home for you”

“Huh?” your eyebrows crease, and your eyes meet his own, “that’s not–”

“Not what?” he tilts his head, something acutely mocking in his gaze, “Not you waiting for me? Not you slowly losing yourself to your wretched little mind? Always overthinking, so caught up in your own head. I have eyes and ears everywhere– I know every little thing you’ve been doing over the last week”

You swallow, “I hate you”

“Lying is bad, you know?” he hums, “It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to admit you can’t do things alone.”

You shake your head.

“No?”

“You weren’t here. I was alone.”

“I’m here now. I’ll always be here for you”

Yoongi thinks people have pre-established ideals about him because of his job. Brute force and terror had never been something he wanted to instil in you. Never wanting to wear you down, pull you so far into the darkness that you stray away from the essence of your being. He loved you as you were and simply wanted you to see eye-to-eye with him.

He hadn’t expected you to fall so soon. Had prepared to wait many more months if it meant he could have you where he wanted you.

It’s endearing, how much control you seem to think you have over your own thoughts. The mind is ever so fragile, and truly, we are our own worst enemies. And maybe that’s what he found so fascinating about you. Wanting to weave his way into your own world, stuck inside your own head, so many thoughts and so many ugly feelings that he’d love to just wash away.

And to just watch you find the little piece of freedom from your own awful mind. A fucked up hero that saved you from your own hysteria, because as much as you liked to think you were the one in control, he could see it. Watched as each day you slowly started to lose yourself.

And Yoongi will never say it, will never take the prize of you sinking into his grasp, because you’d brought yourself here. And he assumes you’ll only continue to sink further and further until all you know is him; the way it’s supposed to be.

And very soon, he knows the two of you will find something special.

🧸 thank you for reading!!

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts angst #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts non idol au #bts mafia fic #bts yandere #yandere yoongi #yoongi #bts #yoongi angst #bts imagines #drabble game

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nightmares--child · 1 year

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Every morning was the same routine. The doctors would come to his room in their sterile white coats and with their placid fake smiles, and they would ask him questions while giving him medicine. He didn't know what the medicine was, but it made him feel like his whole body was apart from his mind, loosely tied together by physical threads of sinew and wet flesh. He tried to fight it a few times, but that only ended up with him being held down by a gaggle of roughneck men while they pushed it into his veins by force.

After a few months, it became easier to let them do what they wanted to him.

Then, when they were done injecting him, they would put his useless body into a wheelchair and push him through a maze of corridors and doorways, none of which his drug-addled brain would allow him to remember past their vague color and shape.

The drugs would level out into a haze by the time they got him into the room and situated the center of their technological henge. They were just present enough to leave his scattered brain nice and suggestible. He was their behaved little subject, ready for his next round of tests.

"Good morning, Terry," Dr. Pachard's recognizable and gravely voice said, her tone professional but falsely sweetened as she checked his pupils with her penlight. "How are you feeling?"

He was sluggish to answer, voice soft and quiet as a sleepy door mouse. "Fantastic, Dr. Pachard. Can I go back to my room, please..?" He asked it every time, it was almost a running joke, at this point.

Dr. Pachard gave him the same smile she always did and said what she always said. "No, Terry, you can't." She attached the nodes to his head, an entire mess of wires and pads to monitor his brain activity through the session. He hated how it tugged at his messy black hair, and how it pressed down on his scalp, but he put up no resistance.

Again, after a few months, it became easier to let them do what they wanted.

She stood back up from her work, admiring the placements as she so often did. "There we are. Now please, Terry, relax and wait for the Phobic to arrive."

'The Phobic' is what they called the people they would bring in for him to break. The poor souls that entered shivering and left empty. He never wanted to do it, but they made him. The drugs made it too easy for him to lose control, just like they wanted.

Today an mature woman came shuffling in, dressed in a patients gown and wearing the same electrode cap as him. Nervous and trembling, she was sat down across from him by two of the guards. They said nothing as they strapped her to her chair, even as she asked, "Why are you strapping me down? I thought this was therapy..."

Over the intercom came Pachard's voice, "Ms. Clayton, please stay calm. This is all part of the process. Remember, this will help you."

"This will help me... This will help me, this will help me..." she repeated to herself, quiet and stammering. She lifted her gaze up from her feet to try and look at his face.

He couldn't even meet her eye, knowing what was about to happen. The room emptied, save for the two of them, and the bolt-locks engaged soon after. White, artificial light filled the room, making his photosensitive eyes squint shut. "Okay, Terry," Pachard began, "Focus on her. Focus on the energy of her fear."

He was already feeling it from the moment she had entered. Her barely quelled fright, quivering and bubbling within, was teasing at the edges of his subconscious like an animal scratching at the door. He actively resisted, most of the time, but with the drugs in his system, he found it too hard to deny. With the instruction given, he fought hard to keep himself at bay, shaking his head. "Not today, please..." he said under his breath.

"Terry, you don't have to make it harder on yourself. You're helping her by doing this. Now, focus."

Again, it tugged at his psyche -- the instinctual hunger. He swallowed and shut his eyes tight. Oh, he could see it inside of her. Such permanently echoing songs of terror nestled so deeply in her mind that he felt compelled to answer their call.

Undoubtedly, they were getting the readings they wanted from his brain, since Pachard encouraged, "There you go, Terry, like that. Now what do you see?"

The hunger seeped through with the drugs, and resistance gave way to nature. "Hay is laying in piles around her feet. Crows are cawing in the broken rafters above. There's a smell in her nose and a thumping in her heart."

"H-hey..." the woman said through a wavering voice, "What are you doing? How did you know about... Stop it..." She sank into herself and closed her eyes.

The fearstuff began to seep from her body, rolling out onto the floor like fog. No one but him could see it, but the machine henge still picked up on its presence. He heard the whirring of the monoliths, beginning to sap the fearstuff away from him. His starvation demanded more. "He's there. Long, skinny fingers. Needles and sprays. The mask is there, but there's no face. Only the mask..."

"Stop it!" she shrieked and ducked her head down, pulling hard against her restraints.

"Keep going, Terry," Pachard pressed. She didn't need to, it was instinct by now.

His eyes bolted open as the final impulses kicked in. "I know... I know what you're afraid of, Mary." He could feel it coming on, now.

The Shift.

The color of the room drained away as it began to happen. Bone stretched painfully. Muscles tore and healed and tore again. Organs relocated, popping and squelching. He stood up with a scream of pain, the last bits of his own form sinking away to be replaced by the terror-induced visage of her very worst fear.

The Scarecrow, a rogue he'd never once met, now stood in his place, dressed in burlap and flannel and rope, with needles on his fingers and holes for eyes. "Mary..." he said lowly, his voice no longer his own, but the one she remembered. "Show me your fear!"

With her guttural scream, it flooded forth from her. Fearstuff. The very thing his deepest instinct told him to consume. He fed upon it, breathing it all in with a maniacal laugh only she had heard before. Her hoarse shouts and cries went unanswered as he approached her for more sustenance and satisfaction. From then, it became a blur. She made a filling meal. By the time it was done, and his faculties were returning to him, her catatonic husk was being escorted out of the room. He was on the ground, sweaty and cold and violated. They had made him do it again.

He felt dizzy with the fill of fearstuff in his system, coursing with barely restrained energy. His body shook with the waves of power flowing through him. In the periphery of his vision, he saw Pachard's heels approaching him. Click clack click clack. The sound rattled his fragile mind. Kneeling down beside him, she began to remove the headset. "Good work, Terry. That amount of energy all at once has definitely gotten us some progress."

With disgust, he welled up a spit and launched it at her. Pachard ducked back, catching it right on the neck. As she wiped it away in stunned silence, he hissed out, "Damn you... She was a person and I..."

Pachard's calm veneer seemed chipped, and she stood up to make room for the guards to come and retrieve him. "She was part of the plan. We're closer now. That should mean something to you."

He forced himself up by his arms, attempting to drag himself toward her in an infuriated lunge until he was pinned to the ground by four, musclebound arms. "You bitch! You fucking bitch! You don't know what you're doing! He's going to tear the world apart, you idiots!" A sharp pain jabbed into his shoulder, and the woozy sway of tranquilizer began to weaken him into a pile on the floor.

As his consciousness gave way, he heard Pachard say, "Get her back to her room. We'll start again tomorrow."

#☽ wandering the dreaming #☽ the other side #tw transphobia

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honeydippedwaffles · 1 year

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Smallest Drop - Part 5

Summary: Tav is beginning to struggle with her fate and the Underdark really isn't helping with that. Astarion is... really bad at comforting people.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The Underdark lingered on her skin uncomfortably. Not even the strongest glow of their torches helped her feel safe beneath the cave ceiling. She never realised how much she loved the sun until she couldn’t see it anymore.

Though the mushroom forests intrigued her, she couldn’t shake the fear of assassins, drows, and everything else. They lurked in the shadows and watched even when she tried to shake free.

But she had no choice. If this route truly turned out to be easier, she couldn’t keep her companions on the route through the mountain pass. Enough had already happened there during their brief visit and Lae’zel hadn’t been handling the betrayal of her fellow gith very well.

They simply had to find the path forward.

“So, do you actually know where you’re leading us or are we simply walking and hoping for the best?”

She gave Astarion a sharp look. Though she knew he only wanted to tease, the day really hadn’t been working in their favour. After being attacked by a beholder of all things and getting catapulted into a wall by an exploding mushroom, she really didn’t have time to listen to his complaints about everything else. The lack of sun, the array of strange creatures, the general darkness… she’d heard every comment.

“Halsin wouldn’t lie to us,” she reasoned. “It may be a maze but we’ll be able to find our way through even if we need to take some time to look around.”

“Will that be before Withers finishes decaying?”

She rolled her eyes and continued to lead them back to camp. Her only lead was the destroyed village not too far from where they’d set up. After a night’s rest, she planned on exploring there a little more.

But first, they needed to rest.

Once everybody disappeared back to their chosen spots, Astarion included, she finally took the moment’s break to head for a small stream. Blood and dirt washed away in the cool water as she took some time to finally breath. Her body still ached from being thrown into the wall but at least she could distract her mind.

Every day that passed, they crept closer to becoming mind flayers. She’d started struggling to sleep for fear of waking up with tentacles sprouting from her mouth and her jaw dislocating.

Not to mention, she felt incredibly weary of the strange dream visitor who kept encouraging her to consume tadpoles like potions.

“You should avoid wandering off by yourself, my dear. There are plenty of critters who I’m sure are dying to take a bite of you.”

She jumped a little but Astarion’s casual demeanour soothed her somewhat. He appeared mostly clean of blood – the Underdark suited his fighting style well – so she imagined he hadn’t followed her to wash.

“I’ll be alright,” she reassured.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t like a little company to watch your back?”

She chuckled, somewhat uncertain still. “It depends. Are you going to complain about everything or will you sit there and look pretty.”

He preened under the casual praise and found a rock to lean against. “I’m always gorgeous. It isn’t much of a challenge.”

She suspected Astarion came through to ensure she remained safe. Despite his usual blasé attitude towards most of the group, he’d become more protective of late and even checked on Shadowheart after she’d taken a nasty sword wound across her leg.

Honestly, she’d be impressed if she wasn’t so worried about everything.

She continued to wash the last of the blood from her hair before she straightened. The droplets chilled her skin where they fell over her back and face and she shivered. She really missed the sun.

And then she turned and he was right there.

His fingers danced over her neck before he caught her jaw and led her into a soft kiss. Her breath caught in her throat; her eyes fluttered closed. He trailed a hand over the front of the armour, dipped into all the embellishments and fastenings, and her heart pounded in response.

He made it far too easy to fall into him. He chased every thought from her mind as he split from her and fluttered kisses over the side of her neck.

“You shouldn’t run off like that by yourself,” he said. “Whatever would we do without you there.”

He’d paused so close to her pulse point. It said something about how he’d conditioned her to tilt her head further to the side and allowed him access to her throat.

“Have you eaten recently?”

“Why do you ask?” he murmured. “Are you offering?”

She never minded when he needed to feed from her. It had turned infrequent after the first few times and the blood loss caused her to nearly get disembowelled by a gnoll. Down in the Underdark, it may be dangerous but she supposed he had few other opportunities to feed.

“If you need it, I don’t mind,” she said. “But only what you need. My reflexes are vital in these fights.”

And he may as well eat from her while possible, she supposed. It wouldn’t matter much if they could be mind flayers the day after.

He made a pleased hum against her throat and she shuddered when his fangs brushed against sensitive skin. “You really spoil me. I’m going to have to make it up to you, no?”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I want to.” He pressed a kiss right over her pulse point. “I can’t possibly take your delicious blood from you without giving something in return. Especially if it makes you a little lightheaded the day after.” He placed another one just beneath her jaw. “Believe me when I say, you won’t regret this evening at all.”

She wanted to let him make good on his promises. After all, what would it matter if she could die at any moment. Not to mention how Gale’s new plans involved blowing himself up and that might kill not only him but everybody on the Sword Coast and she didn’t trust Mystra’s word at all.

“You’re overthinking something,” Astarion said. “Why don’t you focus on me? I’ll make it up to you for annoying you today.”

She stepped away, suddenly confused by what he meant. A flicker of irritation across his façade only confirmed her suspicions. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“Do you even know what’s upsetting me? It’s not you.”

“Well, that makes it all the better. I couldn’t be a more perfect distraction for you, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want you to be a distraction.”

His lip curled. “Why not?”

“Because you mean more to me than that,” she said, not sure how she could express it without offending him. “I want to make you happy as well and I can’t do that when my mind is elsewhere.”

He shook his head as though she’d said something wholly outlandish. “Well, you can always make me happy some other time. Isn’t that the point of this whole, more thing, hm? I’m here for you and all that?”

“No.”

He moved back into her space and ran his fingers down her cheek. “You’d rather I left you to wallow?”

“No,” she sighed. He was trying to find a reason. First, the offer of a thanks for the blood but when she hadn’t shown interest in that, then an apology for what he perceived as irritation. Now that he realised why she was upset, a distraction.

“You can stop being the hero for one moment,” he promised. “You can be selfish every now and then. After all, we’re growing close to the center of this cult, aren’t we? We have something to consider there. Instead of doing the ‘heroic’ thing… maybe there’s another option.”

Her brow furrowed and her eyes flickered to his. “What do you mean?”

“I know you always want to do the right thing, save the helpless orphan, pick up the puppy, slay the monster, all of that,” he said and the words sounded slightly bitter. “But maybe we can find another solution and take some of the influence for ourselves?”

“You want me to take over the Cult of the Absolute?” she asked, confused entirely by the direction of this conversation.

“At the very least, consider it.”

She shook her head. “The cult is kidnapping people and putting mind flayer parasites in their heads,” she argued. “I cannot let that continue. Whoever these people are, they are behaving far worse than any monster.”

He looked unimpressed. Had he really thought she would agree to take over a cult? She despised the Absolute for everything it had done to her and her companions though… well, Astarion so far felt only the positive effects of their affliction. It wouldn’t be beyond him to want to keep it.

“Well, you’ll still get to be the hero,” he finally said. “You can help save me from the worst of my curse.”

“You’re really trying your hardest,” she said. “One day, I’m going to start taking offense to the hero comments.” He’d been getting worse with it as time went on, especially after she offered assistance to groups like the myconids.

Astarion looked almost pleading as he gestured at what was around them. “It wouldn’t be the first time you gave a ‘monster’ a pass, would it?”

“Are you speaking about yourself? Or about the owl bear?”

“Well, I don’t think the owl bear has killed anybody. Yet. If anybody could tame that thing though, I’m sure it would be you.”

She crossed her arms. “Killing people isn’t what makes somebody a monster. I’ve done it myself.”

“Not unless you had no other option,” he scoffed. “I saw you try and speak to a gnoll to convince her to nicely leave you be.”

“Exactly but that’s no different to you? I mean, I suppose I don’t know what you do in the evenings but I wasn’t aware it was running around and murdering children. If we let the Cult of the Absolute continue, they’ll destroy everything.”

Astarion mimicked her pose, defensive and defiant. “Oh, I’ve made the decision plenty of times. Do you really think that when I led hundreds of poor, innocent souls back to Cazador, I didn’t choose? He always gave me the option. I could spend the night with him or I could prowl the streets. A decision I made time and time again.”

“Do you consider that a choice?”

“What else is it? I chose to go out, watched the crowds until I found the perfect soul to drag back to his mansion, knowing all the while that they would die.”

“And what was the alternative? Because from what you’ve told me about vampire lords, they’re not exactly the best company in the world. What option did you truly have where you wouldn’t suffer for your choice?”

He tensed and she already had her answer. Perhaps he did blind her somewhat but she understood the position he’d been placed in better than he thought. How could she hold survival against him? That was exactly what she was trying to do currently with this tadpole in her head.

“I’m not going to take over the Cult of the Absolute,” she said. “Yes, it might give me power but I don’t want anything like that. I just want to be free of this.”

She stepped away from the riverbank to find a log she could sit on and stare up at the cave ceiling. The people she’d met on this adventure had truly been amazing. In a way, she’d actually been having fun. But now it felt as though the end lingered nearby, just out of reach.

Astarion watched her and she waited, not sure what he would say. Eventually, he settled on something separate from the cult.

“You would have made for the easiest prey,” he said. “If I had met you in the first few decades, it would have been simple to get you back to him.”

She chuckled sadly. “I’m not sure how well that would have worked. I’m rather immune to your charms.”

He smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t have flirted with you at all. All I’d need to do is convince you that I was in danger and you needed to come help me. Just like that, you’d follow me anywhere.”

“Why only in the first few decades?”

“Well, after those, I stopped using any techniques other than the one that worked best.”

She pursed her lips together, unhappy. “I’ll have you know; I didn’t offer to help Halsin out. He chose to come with us.”

“Right, because normal people find a random bear in a goblin camp and choose to fight to the death for it.”

“Maybe I just hate goblins that much.”

She honestly never expected Halsin to join them on their path to Moonrise but she welcomed any assistance these days. He understood far more about these tadpoles than she did and she needed his expertise.

Still, perhaps Astarion was right. She’d have made for very easy prey if he tried to lure her away.

“Well then?” he asked and she looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“What do you want me to do if not distract you?”

She frowned at nothing in particular. She didn’t really want anything from him but she knew he wouldn’t accept it as an answer. He’d already helped so much just by being at her side while she simply spoke.

“Just be here,” she said. “That’s all I need. What do you want from me?”

The question slipped through before she could think it through, something she’d been wanting to know since the beginning but had always been too nervous to ask. What was it that he wanted from her? She didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer most of the time.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always asking what I want you to do for me,” she explained. “Now I want to know what you want from me. Protection? A meal? Sex?” She didn’t think it to be the latter. Astarion seemed to think of sex as something she wanted as opposed to him.

He hesitated, uncertain. “I… I want you to continue being you, I imagine? If there’s anybody out there who can solve our little predicament, I’d put good money on you and your ridiculously good fortune.”

She supposed she did occasionally have good luck but she also doubted it to be reason alone for his loyalty.

“Nothing else?”

She feared he’d confirm for her something she already knew – he hadn’t really meant anything. He kept trying to hard to give her what he thought she wanted, to make her happy, when he didn’t really care for her by herself. Perhaps he didn’t even know he was doing it.

“I suppose I want you to want me,” Astarion settled on after she’d wallowed for a few seconds. “I mean, everybody does but you’re the only one who I want to be interested in me. Most of the time, I shudder at the mere thought of somebody touching me but I’ve come to rather appreciate it with you.”

A flush rose to her cheeks and she fought to keep it away. “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“I also want you to say my name more. I’ve grown rather fond of the way you say it when you’re irritated at me.”

She almost started laughing and, though she hated to admit it, she felt relieved to hear something as trivial as his name. Because if all he wanted was for her to say his name, she could easily manage that.

“It’d be a crime not to say a name as pretty as yours,” she teased. “Even when you’re whining.”

“I do not whine.”

“Yes, you do.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I also want you to compliment me more. I rather like what you have to say so you should feel free to spend some time with me and just talk or whatever. It’s a far better way to pass the time rather than eavesdropping on this strange group you’ve collected.”

He wanted her to be with him, then? In the same way she wanted to be with him. She didn’t know whether she should be relieved or saddened in how little he understood her wants when he mirrored them so closely.

“I’m not going to take over the cult,” she reiterated. “But I’m going to find a way for you to walk in the sun still so that I can continue to see you after all this is over.”

“Sounds like the kind of impossible thing only you could pull off.”

She laughed and she finally understood what she could do to help him get what she wanted. “I’ll find a way,” she said. “But for now, I’m going to focus on the three things I can do. Your name, compliments, and… well, just being there.”

“It sounds as though you’re trying to court me.”

“I am. I can’t do it properly now but maybe when we reach Baldur’s Gate, things will be easier.”

He laughed. “Oh no, you’re serious aren’t you. What are you, some kind of long-lost royal with ‘courting’?”

“You’re going to have to find out when we reach the city.”

Somewhere in the Underdark, something rumbled and she stood to look down the river to make sure it stayed far away. She doubted anything would attack her camp but she had to be sure. It felt like danger lurked around every corner and she refused to put her friends in trouble.

Because they were her friends, before anything else.

“You know, we don’t have to be more,” she said. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you but if you want to just be friends, you’ll still get all the compliments and the safety. It doesn’t have to be anything else.”

He rolled his eyes again and stepped into her space. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I don’t know how you managed to do it but you’ve captured my attention. I’m sure you won’t want to squander it.”

She certainly didn’t. When she lay on her back that night, thrown about in thoughts of transforming into a mind flayer, at least half of them spun instead with the vampire spawn who prowled around the camp and his awful attempts at comforting people.

Tag List: @voidinfernal, @mavix, @starved-kitten, @crowley--aziraphale, @zane2408, @umsolikeblog, @promptly-mercy

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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yourlocaltreesimp · 9 months

Text

Once upon a dream

The 1st place raffle prize for @violetregrets1837

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The blackness that swallowed your limbs gave way to a soft light. Your body was suspended in time, floating atop its waters.Your eyes opened and that soft light opened to a world. You were floating atop water, it lapped at your limbs as you floated. The current guided you to the nearest edge, and you sat upon the lip of the pool. It looked much similar to a blossoming flower, lush pink petals folding out from the bubbling water in the centre. Little balls of light danced in the air, each a different colour. You could hear them laughing among themselves, little wings fluttering about. The whole scene was nothing short of enchanting, soft piano and violin accompanying your amazement. The water began to bubble, and before you could fully skitter back, there was a woman. Her hair was long and fell in loose curls, her face was decorated with ornate makeup and gems, her clothes here finer than any human tailor could make. But perhaps most captivating of all -aside from the fact she was giant and just emerged from the water- were the wings that sprouted out from in front of her pointed ears.

“I see you are awake little one” Her voice was soft and warm, your nerves were put to rest “Your soul was embroidered with quite a bit of dark magic, but worry not, I fixed it” You stood slowly, unsure of what to do. She held out a large hand, asking for you to step on. You do so carefully, and she smiles kindly. “You are far from home little one” You sit down on the palm of her hand, and she brings you to eye level “I will allow you refuge if you can offer us anything” Your nerves set back in, all you could really do was sing, and your parents had already spent enough time explaining why it would never get you anywhere.

“I’m sorry ma’am, i’m afraid all I can do is sing” She laughs, it’s light and airy, her eyes lighting.

“That is just perfect my dear. Us faeries love music” She set you back down gently as a small light grew from your chest and enveloped your form. “Worry not, little one, I'm simply ensuring your safety while you stay with us. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of our enchantments”

And so bagan your new reality, sworn protection by the fae in return for your singing. The little fairies took some time to trust you, but soon you always had one on your shoulder or another asleep in your hair. You were safe here, free to roam the heart of the forest. You learned what to forage, what plants made good food and what flowers made for good tea. It was on one such trip foraging that you heard footsteps. He waded through the tall grasses and wove through the trees. You watched from the branches as he made his way through the forest, directly towards its heart. You’ll admit that something about him struck you, his careful steps avoiding the ruin of the forest, the hopeful gleam in his eyes as he wandered, you were captivated. But no person comes out this far, no people seek the help of great fairies anymore, not unless it’s to steal and bottle the young fairies. Your path back to the Great fairy and her fountain was quite simple now you had it memorised, but it would’ve been challenging for anyone who was unfamiliar. As soon as you stood on the lip of the fountain she appeared, examining your worried expression.

“What troubles you, my dear” She cupped both of her hands and let you crawl in.

“There’s a boy in the forest- he’s coming here” Your voice shook, and for the first time you’d been awake in this unfamiliar land, you felt scared. She smiled that knowing grin and pressed you to her cheek.

“He has no ill intent little one, there is no need for your worry.” She sets you back down and leans on the edge of the fountain with her forearms, most of her submerged in the water. “Now, how about a song? Those always calm you down, do they not?” Her suggestion was gentle, redirecting your worry towards something else. You hummed, trying to warm up your voice as you thought of a song. One sprang to mind, looking around at the magic that surrounded you.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream” You made sure to feel the slow sway and swell of the music as you remembered it. “I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam” The fairy in front of you smiled and closed her eyes as she enjoyed your singing more than you parents ever did. “And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do” The smaller fairies gathered to listen, some settling on your shoulders. “You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream” You finished there and the great fairy opened her eyes. She smiled, her eyes searching your face before glancing behind you.

“My, that was certainly a wonderful performance. Wouldn’t you agree?” Her eyes looked expectantly at the boy behind you, the same from before. He stared at you as if he were enchanted by your voice, large eyes staring at you in awe. When he noticed you staring back, his eyes widened.

“Beautiful” He managed to stammer out.

“Thank you” You smiled, knowing that the great fairy was right, he was harmless.

Hyrule was nothing short of bewitched. Your voice held no magic and yet it wrapped around his mind for the days to follow. Your face, lit with the soft glow of the fairies resting on your shoulders was finer than that of any statue or painting. He thought he was lying when his sisters back home told him that he would find someone who would complete him, filling in the cracks of his soul. And yet standing there, hearing you sing, seeing your smile, that’s the most complete he’s ever been in his whole life. The magic in his blood yearned for your voice, for your touch, for you. The great fairy before him raised him much like a son, and judging by the knowing smile on her face, she knew.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu hyrulexreader #lu hyrule #fir’s library

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asacredthebread · 20 days

Text

cover by @no-other-mashter

A Cabin In The Woods - Ch.1

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 - 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚌𝚎?

Warnings/Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Douche Sam, Ex Danny, Soft Twins.

wc; 8425

a/n: finally a series!! this little idea was fleshed out with the help of @dannys-dream . please enjoy!

taglist : @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake

You glance around the room, taking in the scattered reminders of your lives intertwined. A few empty soda cans on the coffee table, remnants of your last gaming session. The stack of board games, some still in their boxes, others half-assembled, waiting for another night of laughter and playful competition. The anticipation thickens in the air, and you can almost hear the sounds of their arrival—a chorus of friendly banter, footsteps heavy with eagerness, the slam of the door as they burst in, bringing with them the energy of a weekend where everything seems possible.

With a sudden burst of energy, you jump up and move around the living room, tidying up just a bit. You gather the cans and throw them away, arrange the games into a neat, crooked pile, and adjust the throw pillows on the couch for an inviting look. As you work, you think about each of your friends and the unique role they play in your little group. Josh, the planner, always with a map in hand and ideas for adventures. Jake, the jokester, whose humor lights up even the cloudiest day. Danny, the quiet but observant one, who often surprises you with his insights. And Sam, the wanderer, whose spontaneous spirit often leads you to places you'd never thought to explore.

After a few minutes, you pause to listen again, straining for any sound of them arriving, but all you hear is the mesmerizing chirping of birds outside. You cross back to the window, pulling back the drapes to peer out at the driveway. The sunlight dances on the pavement, an empty space waiting, just like your heart wants to be filled again with the laughter and camaraderie that only this group can bring.

You think back to the plans you had made, each one a thread weaving the fabric of this weekend together. Hiking in the woods, fishing by the lake, maybe even telling ghost stories around the fireplace. Memories of weekends spent laughing until your sides hurt and sharing secrets that only deepened your bond float to the surface. You can almost picture how it will be: the five of you piled into the cabin, the air filled with chatter and the smell of snacks being prepared, the excitement of adventures awaiting just outside the door.

Time drags as you check your phone again, scrolling through messages but finding none. You switch to your playlists, letting the melodies fill the room, hoping they’ll calm your impatient heart. The music swells, wrapping you in its embrace as you move to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked cookies still lingering from earlier. You grab a couple, hoping the smell will entice your friends upon their arrival. You take a bite, savoring the rich sweetness that temporarily distracts you from the ticking clock.

Minutes crawl on, and your imagination takes flight, picturing each friend’s face, their expressions as they step through the door. You imagine Josh already trying to set up the itinerary, Jake’s inevitable quips punctuating the details, Danny’s dry humor, and Sam’s enthusiastic agreement peppering their discussions. The thought brings a smile to your lips, and you allow yourself to get lost in it.

You lean against the counter, glancing again at the clock. The hands seem stubbornly fixed, but finally, you hear it—the soft rumble of a car engine breaking through the afternoon stillness. Your heart skips a beat, and you rush to the door, peering out through the glass pane. It’s not just one car, but two, the familiar shapes of their vehicles parked haphazardly on the gravel.

Adrenaline courses through you, and you throw open the door, taking a moment to soak up the sight. Josh is the first out, already waving excitedly at you, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Sam tumbles out next, nearly tripping over his own feet, laughter spilling from his lips. Jake hops out of the backseat, a mock flourish accompanying his arrival. Then there’s Danny, who emerges more slowly, his presence calm amidst the whirlwind.

You step out into the open air, and as they draw nearer, the energy in your chest ignites into a full flame. Josh is already unfolding a paper with scribbled plans, Jake is regaling you with a story from the ride, and Sam is juggling a bag of snacks like a circus performer. You laugh, your voice mixing with theirs, as the worry of waiting melts away.

“About time you got here!” you tease, gesturing dramatically to your watch as they gather around you.

“Sorry! There was a weird traffic jam. Blame the ducks,” Jake shoots back, somehow managing to sound both sarcastic and sincere all at once.

The laughter that erupts is warm and infectious, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You know that this is just the beginning; the weekend stretches out ahead of you, full of messiness and adventure, laughter and shared moments, just waiting for you to dive into it together. As the initial chaos of greetings dies down, there’s a gentle tug in your heart as you catch sight of Sam, now standing a little farther back, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His expression is unreadable, a mix of wariness and stubbornness that you’ve seen before. It wouldn’t be your first time navigating this peculiar distance that seems to have blossomed between you two since the breakup.

You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of discomfort coiling in your stomach. You remember when Sam was just a kid, tagging along with Danny, wide-eyed and full of curiosity. He idolized his older brother and you, too. But as the years rolled on, things shifted—the innocence of childhood faded, and the complexities of adulthood crept in. Once an eager participant in your little adventures, Sam now stood at the fringes, a silent observer in a space that used to feel so inclusive.

You flash him a smile, hoping to breach the silent wall that’s grown taller between you over the years. “Hey, Sam! You ready for this weekend?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and inviting.

He responds with a tight, almost imperceptible nod, his gaze shifting to the grass at his feet. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice barely audible over the excitement buzzing from the others. The wave of disappointment crashes over you like a cold breeze, leaving you shivering even in the warmth of the sun.

“Awesome! We’ve got hiking and fishing on the agenda. You’ll love it,” you say, keeping your voice steady, even though every word feels like a fragile bridge being built between you and him. You want him to feel included, to remember the fun the five of you shared—but something always seems to break that connection.

He shrugs but doesn't respond, and you can't help but notice how much his demeanor has changed. This is not the same Sam who once giddily climbed trees with you in the backyard or raced across the playground, his laughter mingling with yours. No, this version of Sam stands guarded, like he’s built a fortress around his emotions, and you’re left on the outside, struggling to find an entry point.

Josh, oblivious to your unspoken struggle, throws an arm around you and Sam, pulling you both into the group. “I brought the marshmallows! We need to find the perfect spot for making s’mores, right?” he announces, attempting to lift the mood.

You can feel Sam stiffen slightly against you as Josh continues to speak. You wonder if he even realizes how much the past has influenced his views on you, or if he’s even bothered to tell Danny how he feels. You want to reach out, to talk to him alone somewhere quiet, but the fear of making things worse holds you back. Hadn’t you tried before? You think back to the moments after the breakup, sensing that Sam’s icy glare had been directed at you more often than not.

Danny notices the tension, shooting a glance back at you. He’s always been the peacemaker among your friends, but even he hasn't managed to bridge the gap between you and Sam. He steps closer, trying to draw you back into the group dynamic. “Alright! Let’s load up the cars. I’ll grab the bags,” he says cheerfully.

You watch as Danny hustles away, a familiar sense of comfort and guilt flooding through you at his actions. He’s still your friend, even after everything, making this situation increasingly complicated. You had shared a deep connection, a bond that was special, but now that connection felt fragile, with threads fraying as each day went by. The decision to remain friends with him had been simple at the time, rooted in mutual respect and affection for one another, but you hadn’t fully anticipated how it would affect your relationship with Sam.

“Why does he still talk to you?” Sam’s voice cuts through your thoughts abruptly, and you turn to find him glaring at you, confusion etched across his features.

You blink, taken aback by his straightforwardness. It was a question not merely about your friendship with Danny, but something deeper, one that suggested unresolved feelings.

“What do you mean?” you reply, trying to keep your voice from wavering.

“Just… why? After everything? You broke up. It’s not fair to Danny, you know.” His eyes narrow, and there’s no mistaking the defensiveness that wrapped around him as he stood his ground.

Your heart sinks at his words. You had expected some tension, but you hadn’t anticipated this raw confrontation. “Sam, it’s not like that,” you respond gently, striving for sincerity rather than defensiveness, but it comes out muddled. “Danny and I are friends; that doesn’t change the past, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be there for each other. What happened between us was… well, it was years ago.”

But Sam isn’t ready to ease off. “Then why’s he still so close? Doesn’t it bother him? You just act like nothing happened.”

You feel a wave of frustration and hurt rise within you. “It’s not like we pretend it didn’t happen,” you counter, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve moved on. It was a mutual decision. But you haven’t even tried to understand.”

“Understand?” His voice cracks like glass, sharp and brittle. “You think it’s that easy? You hurt him—and you hurt me. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

And there it is, the voice of a protector, a younger brother shielding his older sibling from the pain you had inadvertently caused. Regret gnaws at your heart; you hadn’t anticipated how deep the roots of the past would grow, or how they would fester.

The moment stretches, a fragile silence hanging between you. You want to explain how even though the breakup had been tough, it was healthier for both of you to let go. You want to tell him that your friendship with Danny no longer carries the weight that it once did. But as you look into Sam’s frustrated eyes, filled with the hurt and resentment that he carries, you realize that words alone may not be enough.

You take a step toward him, lowering your voice, “I’m still the same person, Sam. I care about you. I always have. And I never wanted this. If I could take everything back, I would.”

There’s a flicker of vulnerability in Sam’s expression, but it’s quickly masked by a wall of defiance. He shakes his head, the battle between his emotions evident. “But you can’t. You can't erase the past. You’re just… you’re just not the person I thought you were.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air like an oppressive fog. Deep down, you know this isn’t just about you; this is Sam grappling with his loyalty, with the fragments of his innocence being directly affected by choices made long ago, neither of you fully prepared for the landscape of change that followed.

A voice in your head whispers that perhaps this moment isn’t the time to press further. What he needs might be different than what you want. So, instead of pushing, you simply take a deep breath and offer him a small, tentative smile. “I hope one day, you’ll see that,” you say quietly. It’s a promise to yourself, a commitment that you won’t give up on him, no matter how tough he chooses to be.

Josh calls out for everyone to grab their things, pulling you back into the present. The others have wandered off to the cars. You feel the pulsing uncertainty hanging over your head, yet a flicker of hope ignites amid the tension. While things may not settle overnight, perhaps this weekend spent together in the cabin can lay the groundwork, the first tentative steps toward rebuilding what feels broken.

As you approach the vehicles, your heart still heavy with the confrontation but your resolve steady, you glance back at Sam. He stands a little apart, watching as the others prepare for the adventure ahead. You can only hope that somewhere in him, beneath the hurt and the resentment, lies the same Sam who once laughed with you, the one who could still find joy in the shared moments to come. In the complicated web of friendships and past relationships, all you can do is be patient. And for now, that has to be enough. As you gather your things, moving methodically through the motions without allowing yourself to get attached to the feelings brewing within you, you can feel the invisible barrier remaining firmly in place between you and Sam. Over the months—no, the years—you’ve grown increasingly indifferent to his indifference. You’ve learned to encapsulate your disappointment in a box labeled “Sam,” pushing it aside among the remnants of a past that no longer holds the warmth it once did. It’s a survival tactic more than anything, one that helps you navigate the reality of being with the group without constantly feeling the sting of his coldness.

You toss your backpack into the back of the car, and from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Sam’s silhouette. He is leaning against the trunk of his own car, arms crossed defensively as he furtively shoots glances your way, as if keeping track of your every movement. The feeling of animosity between you both has morphed into a standoff—one that has grown all too familiar. Civil, yes, but you’d be lying if you didn’t think of him as an enemy of sorts.

“Hey! You ready?” Josh’s voice pulls you back into the moment, a jovial spirit breaking through the tension that lingers over you like a storm cloud.

“Yeah, let me just grab a couple more things,” you reply, pushing away the distractions of the cold exchange with Sam. You put on your friendliest face, hoping it radiates enough warmth to block the chilly vibes from the younger brother.

As you turn back to your car, you can feel Sam’s eyes boring into your back. The sharpness of his gaze is enough to make you almost cringe. In a moment of pure habit, you catch his glance across the distance between you, but instead of engaging, you look away, resignation washing over you. This is your new normal—walking around each other with an almost practiced ease, avoiding topics that felt like landmines, running the motions without the heart.

You join Josh, who is animatedly motioning toward the pile of bags ready to be loaded into the car. He lifts your duffel bag, tossing it into the backseat. “You know what? I think this weekend is going to be pretty epic,” he says with an enthusiastic grin, and there’s a spark in his eyes that suggests he might be cooking up something devious underneath the cheerful exterior.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be fun,” you respond, keeping your tone light, but the spark of excitement doesn’t quite match what you feel inside. You know you’re only here for the rest of them—not for Sam, but for the camaraderie that the others bring. The thought serves as a bitter reminder that this weekend isn't going to be the joyful adventure you once experienced; it’s veiled in complications now.

“You don’t sound too thrilled,” Josh observes, tilting his head slightly as he watches you. His playful smirk hints that he knows you better than you’d like to admit.

“I am! I just— I don’t know. It’s hard with all the… dynamics,” you admit, glancing back at Sam, who is now leaning against the car, scrolling through his phone, feigning disinterest in everything around him.

Josh catches your gaze and follows it. “Ah, Sam,” he says knowingly, his smirk widening. “You know how to handle him, right? Just give him some space. He’s a brat, but he’ll come around… eventually. Maybe.” There’s a lightheartedness in his tone, but you can hear the flicker of truth beneath it as well.

You sigh softly, refraining from saying a whole lot. It’s tiring, dwelling on Sam and the gulf that has opened between you two. “I’m just here for the rest of you,” you finally say, attempting to shake off the weighty atmosphere hanging between you all.

“Oh come on, don’t sell yourself short,” Josh nudges playfully. “You’ll have a good time. Trust me; I’ve got plans. Just wait.” His eyes glimmer with mischief, promising something that you can't quite articulate but makes you feel a sense of intrigue mixed with a sprinkle of apprehension.

“Plans?” you raise an eyebrow, instantly curious. “What kind of plans?”

Josh just smirks and shakes his head. “You’ll see. Just… keep that excitement brewing. You’re going to need it.” He glances over your shoulder at Sam, who’s obliviously shifting his weight between his feet, looking anywhere but at you. “And if you want to help Sam thaw out, I’d say surprise him this weekend.”

You can’t help but snort. “Yeah, because that’s worked so well in the past,” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully. There’s a moment where you and Josh share a genuine laugh, an infectious moment that lifts your spirits—if only for a heartbeat.

But as the laughter fades, you find yourself swallowing the edges of optimism that Josh had carefully woven among your words. Everything feels like it’s wrapped in prickly layers, and you can’t quite shake off the lingering frost that Sam has established around himself. You glance back at the car, the rest of your friends mingling as they load their bags, and you know that whatever happens this weekend, the shadows will continue to linger.

But for now, you focus on the group—the familiar sounds of friends, the camaraderie that still exists, and the small moments where joy can weave through the complexities. If nothing else, you can hold onto that, at least for a little while longer.

The excitement builds as the group begins to finalize the car arrangements, laughter and chatter filling the air like the sweetest of harmonies. Meanwhile, you stand by your car, your bags safely stowed in the trunk, watching as Danny, Jake, and Josh cram themselves into one vehicle. Jake is behind the wheel, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms as he adjusts his sunglasses.

“Hey, we’re all set over here!” Danny calls out, giving you a wave with a grin that feels impossibly bright against the growing shadows of your own swirling emotions.

“Great! How's it looking?” you ask, attempting to maintain the upbeat spirit that the others seem to exude.

“It’s a tight fit,” Jake chuckles, shifting a few duffel bags to open up his side. “But I think we can manage. It’s like a fun little challenge. Just squeeze in!”

Your heart sinks a little. There’s no room for you to join the fun trio. There’s the undeniable reality that someone has to ride with Sam, and as fate would have it, that someone is you. The mental calculation runs through your head as Josh leans over. “So, it looks like you’re stuck with our favorite ice-cold brother,” he teases, a smile dancing on his lips.

You force a smile back, but the corners of your mouth barely lift. “Yeah, sounds like a blast,” you say, your voice dripping with false enthusiasm. But you know better; you’ve moved past hoping for a magical transformation between you and Sam. Instead, you brace for the awkward silence that awaits you.

“Just try not to kill each other,” Danny chimes in with a laugh, clapping Jake on the shoulder as he climbs into the backseat. The two of them crowd in with Josh, leaving you standing at the edge of the parking lot, bags in tow, feeling more like a reluctant passenger on a sinking ship.

“Have fun!” Josh throws over his shoulder, a teasing tone layered beneath genuine friendship. You merely nod and turn back toward your own car, steeling yourself for the ride.

As you approach Sam, who has finally peeled himself away from the trunk, your heart sinks a little deeper. He stands there, arms crossed, head tilted slightly to the side, like a statue carved from ice. You wonder if he’s ever going to ease up, but you have your doubts.

“Ready?” you ask, trying to inject a hint of excitement into your voice, but it falls flat, met by a lackluster nod from him. Definitely not the response you were hoping for.

He opens the passenger door for you, the gesture surprisingly formal, but no warmth underlies it. You slide in, feeling the chill envelop you like a thick winter coat. The atmosphere in the car is immediate—stark, heavy with uncomfortable silence. It hangs between you like a thick fog, dense and unyielding.

Sam quietly takes his place in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and fumbling with the radio. He seems determined to ignore your presence, staring straight ahead as if making an escape plan from the vulnerability of sharing a confined space. You wish there was a way to breach the awkwardness, to find a thread that could pull you back together, but as the tires crunch against the gravel, any hope for easy conversation dissipates.

Seeking some semblance of normalcy, you reach for the radio dial. “Let’s put some music on,” you suggest, flipping through the static-filled channels, your fingers finding the familiar rhythm of pop tunes and classic rock. Anything to drown out the suffocating quiet.

You land on a station playing an upbeat track—something that hints at carefree moments and happy adventures. As the music swells in the car, you glance over at Sam, who seems indifferent, his eyes fixed ahead on the road. The contrast between the vibrant sound and his unyielding silence sticks out like a sore thumb.

As the first chorus filters through the air, you attempt to find solace in the lyrics, tapping your fingers on your knee. The momentary distraction feels almost comforting, wrapping you in a bubble of familiarity, but the more you look over, the more the disconnection between you gnaws at your insides.

With each passing song, you steal glances at Sam, noticing the set of his jaw, the way he focuses entirely on the road, as if the scenery outside holds his full attention. It’s as though he’s cast you out completely, maintaining an air of impressive detachment. You feel the weight of his emotions pressing down upon you, and the lack of dialogue hangs heavily in the air, making you painfully aware of how this car ride is just another continuation of the unspoken animosity.

“Can we at least talk?” you break the silence after what feels like an eternity, your voice coming out more tentative than you intended.

A flicker of surprise crosses Sam’s features, but it’s quickly replaced by that familiar coldness. “What’s there to talk about?” he replies, his tone clipped and almost disdainful.

You don’t have an answer for that. Instead, you return your gaze to the road ahead, willing yourself to fade into the background. As the landscape lazily unfolds outside, you tap your fingers absently to the rhythm of the songs, clutching tightly to the momentary escape they offer while the awkwardness seeps into any crevice it can find.

The music continues to play, but the sound no longer feels potent enough to bridge the gap. And so, you sit in silence with Sam, together yet entirely alone, gripped by the cold tension that still looms overhead as the car speeds into a weekend that feels far from the promise of the adventure it should hold.

The thrum of the tires against the gravel grows faint as Sam pulls the car to a stop. The abrupt halt rouses you from your thoughts, your body tense and coiled from the ride. You can sense the anticipation in the air as you sit in silence for a moment longer, taking in the surroundings. The cabin abruptly fills with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves—a serene welcome that feels almost surreal after the oppressive silence of the drive.

With a burst of adrenaline, you fling open your door before Sam has even turned off the engine. The cool breeze greets you like an old friend as you hop out, not waiting for any farewell or parting glance. Your feet hit the ground with a thud, and you cherish the feeling of freedom as you stretch your legs and breathe in the fresh, earthy scent of the outdoors.

“Finally!” you exhale, shaking off the lingering weight of the car ride as you make your way towards the others, who are unloading their bags with animated chatter. You spot Danny first, his voice carrying over the excited hum of everyone’s arrival.

“Hey! You made it!” he calls, a warm smile brightening his face as he waves you over.

“Yep! I survived,” you reply, injecting a playful cheer into your words as you approach him. He raises an eyebrow playfully, sensing there’s more to your story than your upbeat tone conveys.

“How was the ride with Sam?” Danny inquires, leaning in closer, curiosity dancing in his eyes. You can’t help but let out a short, bitter laugh.

“It was… cold,” you say, searching for the right words. “I mean, really, really cold. Like, I thought I was going to need a parka.”

Danny’s expression shifts to one of mild concern mixed with amusement. He chuckles softly, his eyes glancing towards Sam, who is now focused on unloading bags from the car with an almost robotic efficiency. “Sounds about right. He can be a snowstorm in human form,” he jokes, but there’s an underlying seriousness in his voice.

You nod, the heaviness of the ride still looming over you like a lingering cloud. “I just don’t get why he has to be like that,” you admit, your voice dropping slightly as you try to keep the conversation light.

“It’s Sam,” Danny shrugs, rolling his eyes. “He’s always been like that. Don’t take it personally. He’ll warm up—eventually.” The reassurance sounds hollow, but you appreciate the effort.

Before you can respond, Josh jogs over, cutting into the moment with a laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “What’s the scoop? Did you two drive the entire way without speaking?”

“Pretty much,” you reply, crossing your arms defensively as if that might shield you from the teasing laughter that’s sure to follow. “It was like a contest to see who could be the most silent.”

Josh pretends to gasp dramatically. “An entire hour spent without banter? The horror! Next time, I’ll bring a competition trophy for you both,” he says, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Despite the playful taunts, you feel a little warmth blossom inside you, a reminder that you’re among friends who know the perfect way to lift your spirits even when the situation feels bleak.

As the rest of the group gathers around, you can sense a change in energy, the camaraderie enveloping you like a well-worn blanket. You watch as Jake unloads the last of the bags, and you can see the excitement bubbling up among everyone, a collective anticipation for the weekend ahead.

Maybe, just maybe, you can set aside the awkwardness with Sam and focus on the fun awaiting you all. But the idea of staying civil with him still nibbles at the edges of your mind, lingering beneath the surface.

“Let’s get settled before we explore,” Josh suggests, gesturing toward the cozy cabin that looms invitingly on the hillside. “I could use a good stretch and some snacks to keep my energy up. Who's with me?”

You follow his lead, feeling the warmth of the group draw you in, leaving Sam behind in the background. The unspoken tension ebbed slightly as you turn away, making a conscious effort to step toward laughter and a sense of belonging.

But even amidst the joyful chaos, you can’t help but glance back toward the car, where Sam is still standing, finishing his task in solitude. His presence is a whispering shadow in the back of your mind, a reminder of the icy wall that still divides you. For now, you shake off the unease, hoping that somehow, the thrill of the weekend can melt even the iciest of barriers.

As the group disperses to settle into the two cabins, excitement crackles in the air, mixing with the sweet scent of pine and earthy undertones of the surrounding woods. You watch as Jake, Josh, and Danny haul their gear inside the same cabin, eager to dive into their music and brainstorm creative ideas for the next tour. Their laughter rings out, a cheerful melody that resonates against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

Meanwhile, Sam stands a few feet away, allowing the warmth of camaraderie to wash over him without fully engaging. His body language is closed off, as if he’s placed an invisible barrier between himself and the rest of the group. You steal glances in his direction, still ruminating over the constricting atmosphere from the car ride. But with all the excitement building around you, a part of you feels ready to push that unease aside.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Jake exclaims, clapping his hands together as he leads the way into their cabin. It feels right for them to be together, indulging in what they love best. But then your attention shifts back to Sam as he ambles toward the opposite cabin, the decision clearly marked on his face—he wants out. Out of everything.

“Hey, Sam, you want to join us?” Josh asks, half-joking but clearly hopeful for his inclusion.

Sam shakes his head firmly without turning. “I need a break from all this,” he replies tersely, a dismissal that nearly stings in the air. You can see his shoulders tense, a clear indication he’s not about to open up—about anything. It’s a bark of resistance, a wall of icy resolve that sends a reminder of the distance between you.

As you stand there, the tension in the air palpable, you feel a strange mix of anticipation and dread at the thought of cabin assignments. Jake, Josh, and Danny bustle into their cabin, laughter spilling out like sunlight, while Sam, ever the enigma, remains outside, his posture rigid with resolve. Your heart sinks a little when you hear the casual banter coming from the cabin that’s supposedly supposed to be yours.

“Hey, where’s the other cabin?” you ask, trying to mask the unease creeping in.

“It’s just over there,” Josh points, his demeanor as light-hearted as ever. “You’ll love it! It’s cozy, and the view is killer.”

Sam’s voice cuts in sharply from behind you. “I’m really going to need some quiet.” He slips past and heads toward the other cabin, and you can’t help the irritated glance you shoot Josh.

“What? I’m just suggesting you join us!” Josh grins, unfazed by your discontent. He winks, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

With a resigned sigh, you watch Sam disappear into his chosen retreat. Deciding against further argument, you follow Josh, your heart sinking at the prospect of being ushered into the one space you hadn’t planned on. This was just typical, wasn’t it? The universe had a way of throwing you situations you never asked for.

As you step inside the cabin, you're immediately struck by its rustic beauty. The arching wooden beams overhead give it a charm, while large windows let in soft splashes of golden sunlight. A comfortable couch sits invitingly near a small fireplace, and the kitchen area glistens with warmth and promise of shared meals. There’s an instant feeling of home.

“See? Isn’t it nice?” Josh beams, stepping further in to gesturing for you to join. You can't help but find the ambiance enchanting, the essence of the cabin soothing.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you admit, allowing yourself to be momentarily distracted by the quaint details—an assortment of vintage mugs hung from a rack, a checkered tablecloth draped over the dining table. Everything feels so inviting, and for a heartbeat, the knot in your stomach unravels. Perhaps it won’t be so bad after all.

But then, as you continue to stroll through the space, your gaze lands on the sleeping area tucked in the corner. The moment you realize there’s only one bed—small, rustic, and undeniably charming—you stop in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat.

“What?” You whirl around to Josh, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “There’s only one bed? Seriously?”

Josh holds up his hands defensively, a playful smirk on his face. “Hey, I don’t make the rules! It’s a cozy cabin, and they weren’t exactly built with… convenience in mind.”

“Convenience?” you huff, incredulity dripping from your tone. “We’re not in a romantic teen flick, Josh! I can’t sleep in a bed with Sam—he can be like a thousand ice cubes!”

“Relax, it’s just for a couple of nights,” Josh chuckles, clearly not fully grasping the discontent rippling through you. “Think of it as an adventure!”

You let out a frustrated groan, rubbing your temples as you try to process this unforeseen development. “An adventure or a nightmare?” Your thoughts race, imagining the uncomfortable moments that lie ahead.

“Look, just make the best of it! You never know, you might actually enjoy it.” He winks again, turning to head for the door. “I’m going to go grab the rest of my stuff. Just—be nice to him, okay? Sam can surprise you.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, you stand in the silence of the cabin, weighing your options. There is a certain comfort in the beauty of the place, but the knowledge that Sam would be your only companion when night descends fills you with dread.

What were the chances of this turning into anything less than awkward? You glance at the bed again, a small, perfect frame draped with a warm comforter, and you can’t help but let out a soft groan. There was no escaping this predicament. Not only would you have to confront the tension that lingered between you and Sam, but you’d also have to figure out how to share such an intimate space without succumbing to the discomfort.

With a cautious sigh, you decide that if you’re going to be stuck in this situation, you might as well make the best of it. Drawing a deep breath, you head back toward the door, determined to find Sam before the night descends—perhaps a little friendly banter could chip away at that frosty demeanor. Or at least, you hope it could. You stand for a moment, wrestling with the urge to chase after Sam. After all, he’s a grown man. This trip is meant to be a break for everyone, and he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, even if he seems intent on brooding in solitude. With a firm nod to yourself, you decide against following him.

Instead, you turn back to the cabin, allowing its warm atmosphere to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. Setting your bag on the cozy couch, you begin to unpack, slowly taking out your belongings. You lay out your clothes in the small dresser and set your toiletries on the counter, your fingers brushing over the well-worn wood. Each item finds its place, and with everything finally organized, the cabin begins to feel more like home.

Once you’re finished, you grab your book from the side pocket of your bag, the familiar cover a welcome sight. Plopping down on the couch, you curl your legs beneath you, settling in to read. The cabin is silent, save for the soft sounds of nature filtering in through the open window—the whisper of the wind and the distant call of a bird.

You find your place in the book, the words enveloping you as you lose yourself in the story. Time slips away, the characters pulling you deeper into their world while the sun sinks lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink through the windows. The ambiance is peaceful and serene, the perfect backdrop to an evening of escape.

But as the sky darkens and stars begin to twinkle overhead, the lure of the outside world beckons you. You set your book aside and decide to venture out. Stepping out of the cabin, the crisp night air hits you, fresh and invigorating. The soft glow of a campfire flickers in the distance, laughter and chatter weaving a warm, welcoming melody.

You make your way toward the group, and as you approach the fire, you spot Jake’s familiar silhouette, his laughter rising above the others. Instinctively, you feel drawn to him—the effortless way he seems to brighten the mood always brings a smile to your face.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to join us!” Jake calls out, his grin infectious. He pats the space beside him on a log that’s been pulled close to the fire. As you settle down next to him, you allow your body to relax, the warmth radiating from the flames washing over you.

“Sorry for the delay. Getting settled took longer than I expected,” you reply, glancing around at the other members of the group. Danny and Josh sit opposite you, animatedly discussing something that makes them all break into laughter now and then, while Sam appears a short distance away, leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold.

Jake leans closer, his voice lowering a notch so only you can hear. “You know, touring can be exhausting, but there’s nothing like a campfire to recharge. The stories we gather, the people we meet—it’s all a part of it.”

You nod, intrigued. “What’s one of your favorite moments from tour?”

Jake’s eyes light up as he leans back, stretching his arms. “Oh man, there are so many! But there was this one time in Stockholm. We had a show, everything was fine, and then it just started pouring down. Everything was getting wet, crew were running out to try and cover everything, but we decided to go for it anyway. The energy in that crowd was electric. People were dancing in the rain, completely soaked, loving every minute of it. There’s just something magical about sharing those experiences, y’know?”

You listen intently, captivated by the enthusiasm in his voice. As Jake reminisces, you can see the clear passion he has for his craft, for the stage, and for those chaotic yet beautiful moments that make up a musician’s life.

The comforting glow of the fire creates a warm cocoon around the group, and little by little, you become absorbed in the shared tales of adventures, mischief, and unexpected mishaps. The feeling of camaraderie fills the space as stories pass around like cherished keepsakes—each anecdote drawing you closer to the rest of the group.

You steal a glance at Sam, noticing that he hasn't moved. He seems distant, lost in his own thoughts, but you remind yourself that you are not responsible for him. Tonight is about the warmth of friendship and connection, a reminder of the bonds you share with these people.

As the conversations swirl around you, you find a comfortable spot amid the laughter and storytelling, finally allowing yourself to relax. There may be unresolved tension with Sam lingering in the back of your mind, but for now, you embrace the moment—the crackling fire, the rich stories, and the sparkling stars above. As the evening unfolds, the warmth of the fire ignites a newfound energy in the group. Josh reaches into a cooler nearby, cracking open a few drinks, the sounds of cans popping echoing into the night. The laughter swells as everyone grabs their beverages, toasting to camaraderie under the twinkling stars.

“Cheers!” Jake calls out, holding his can high. The others echo him, clinking their drinks together, the sound of laughter mingling with the crackling of the fire. You take a long sip, feeling the refreshing taste wash over you, a perfect complement to the lively atmosphere surrounding you.

The night deepens, and the glow of the fire flickers and dances across everyone’s faces, creating a cozy enclave of warmth amid the cool night air. The conversation flows easily, stories bouncing back and forth, punctuated by the occasional jeer or hearty laugh. You settle comfortably into the moment, appreciating the ease with which everything seems to be unfolding.

As the evening progresses, you catch sight of Sam from the corner of your eye. He stands at the edge of the clearing, arms still crossed, leaning against a tree. He seems disconnected, observing from a distance, his expression unreadable. Yet, as you continue to watch, it’s clear he’s caught in the contagious vibe that surrounds the fire. You look away, not wanting to give it too much thought.

Just when you begin to wonder if he’d stay withdrawn, he edges closer, his presence almost tentative but still steadfast. Jake waves him over, and to your surprise, Sam steps forward, joining the group but keeping a careful distance from where you sit. He responds to the others with brief smiles and nods, his warmth reserved only for them.

A moment later, Josh stretches and calls out, “Hey, Jake! Switch seats with me!” Without hesitation, he stands and swiftly swaps places with Jake, who falls into a natural rhythm chatting with Danny on the opposite side of the fire.

Now seated next to you, Josh leans in with a grin that instantly eases any lingering tension. “So, I’ve been mapping out a hiking trip for tomorrow,” he says, excitement bubbling in his voice. “I found this amazing trail that leads to this gorgeous viewpoint. If you’re up for it, I think it'll be a blast!”

You perk up, intrigued. “Really? How long is the hike?”

“A few hours, give or take, depending on how much we stop to take photos,” he says, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I thought it would be a great way to explore the area while also getting some fresh air. Plus,” he adds with a conspiratorial grin, “you can get a step ahead on your ‘adventure’ with Sam!”

You chuckle at the idea, but a part of you feels a little conflicted. “What if Sam doesn’t want to join us?” you muse, shooting a glance toward him. Even as he sips his drink, he seems engaged in casual conversation with the others, yet his gaze is distant, unfocused.

“Oh, come on!” Josh rolls his eyes dramatically, leaning closer, his voice a playful whisper. “He might be grumpy now, but when he gets out on the trail, the fresh air could do him wonders. Besides, it’s all about enjoying ourselves, right?”

You can’t help but smile at Josh’s infectious enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll join you. Sounds like fun!”

“Awesome! I’ll make sure to bring some snacks. We can have a little picnic at the viewpoint,” he suggests, and just then, Danny breaks out into another story, eliciting laughter from Jake and the rest of the group.

As you settle into the conversation with Josh, a lightness begins to fill the air, and the earlier tension fades. You steal another glance at Sam, noticing he’s still holding his drink, but has started engaging more than before. It’s small, but you sense a subtle transformation with him—something that perhaps indicates that being around the fire is melting the ice a bit.

Everyone’s laughter mingles with the night sounds, the stars shining brightly above as the embers of the fire flicker and pop. You lean back, soaking in the moment. Tomorrow promises new adventures—one filled with hiking, laughter, and the spirit of exploration. For now, you allow yourself to enjoy that sense of belonging, sharing stories and warmth with your chosen family under the expansive sky.

The night begins to stretch on, each minute blending into the next, the laughter and stories creating a seamless tapestry of warmth and companionship. The fire crackles softly, slowly surrendering to the coolness of the evening air as the flames retreat into a pile of glowing embers. The comforting scent of smoke lingers, weaving through the crisp atmosphere around you.

As the group continues to chatter, the energy isn’t quite as boisterous as it had been earlier. Conversations begin to dwindle into soft murmurs, the warmth of the fire drawing everyone closer as shadows dance around you. You can feel the budding fatigue settling in; the day had been long, filled with travel and commotion. Glancing around, you catch sight of Josh and Danny, both leaning back on their hands, eyelids heavy with sleep.

Jake stands up, stretching with a yawn. “I think it’s about time we call it a night, huh?” he suggests, quickly met with nods and sighs of agreement. Slowly, everyone begins to rise from their places around the fire, reluctantly shaking off the comfort of the warmth.

“Goodnight, everyone!” Josh calls out, before he and Danny wander off toward the cabin.

The others follow suit, saying their goodnights as they drift in their separate directions, leaving you and Sam lingering by the fire. He stands nearby, his expression still somewhat distant, eyes flickering briefly toward the ashes.

“Let’s head in,” you say, breaking the silence as you turn to him. Sam nods but doesn’t say anything, still gazing into the dimming fire.

You walk toward the cabin door, Sam following closely behind. He steps through the threshold first, immediately letting out a breath as he brushes off the chill that clings to him. “Man, it’s cold out there,” he remarks, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

You smile, turning back to the fire for one last moment before stepping inside. As you linger, you scan the darkened cabin, your eyes drifting toward the dwindling logs stacked in the corner. There aren’t many left for tomorrow, and while it tugs at your mind, you decide it’ll be a problem for a later time. Right now, the warmth from the fire still barely fills the room, and it holds a comfort that you want to stay in a little longer.

The embers crackle softly, glowing like miniature stars against the ashy backdrop, and as you watch, a small wave of peacefulness washes over you. But then, the moment takes a shift. You turn back toward Sam and notice he’s looking around the cabin, a scowl etched on his features.

“Huh,” he says. “I didn't realize there was only one bed.”

His tone is curt, and there’s a flicker of something—annoyance? Disappointment?—behind his eyes. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow, feeling the weight of the night's earlier warmth dissipate slightly at his words.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a small cabin,” you reply, trying to keep the tone light. “We’ll figure it out.”

Sam huffs, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the tension palpable. “What do you mean we’ll figure it out?”

“Well,” you start, taking a small breath, unsure where to steer the conversation, “we can always share the bed, given that all the other beds are... well, nonexistent.”

He rolls his eyes, his dissatisfaction clear. “Great. Just what I wanted—sharing a bed in a cabin that’s apparently meant for couples.”

You feel a flush creep up your neck at the unintended implication in his words. “It’s just logistics, Sam. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” he snaps, his glare holding onto the shadows of the cabin. The air suddenly feels thick with tension, spiraling into an uncomfortable silence between you. You desperately search for the right thing to say, to ease the moment, but it seems nothing fits.

“Look,” you finally say, trying to keep the peace, “we can make the best of it, right? Maybe it’ll just be a fun memory to—”

Sam interrupts, his voice edged with frustration. “Yeah, a fun memory. Because sharing a bed with you will definitely be memorable,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping off his words.

You take a step back, a knot forming in your stomach. The atmosphere that had felt so warm and friendly by the fire now feels heavy and constricted. This isn’t how you wanted the night to end.

“Fine,” you say, drawing back slightly. “If you don’t want to share, you could always sleep on the floor.”

Sam’s expression shifts, caught somewhere between indignation and surprise. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

Silence lingers again, thickening the air. You both stand in the small cabin, the only sounds coming from the gentle crackling of the dying fire outside, your voices echoing in the corners of the room.

“Let’s just get some sleep,” you suggest quietly, hoping to soften the moment. He shifts slightly, the tension still palpable as he nods, but there’s an undeniable chill in the air that wasn’t there a moment ago.

As the last remnants of warmth flicker in the embers outside, the cabin darkens around you, pulling you both into an unwelcome reality—the boundaries of friendship challenged by the confines of close quarters.

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whoahoney · 2 years

Text

Not the Babysitter Pt 2

Steve Harrington x SingleMom!Reader

A/N: Part 2 of my abandoned Steve Harrington fic! This is actually the fic that got me back into writing last year before I tripped and fell down the massive rabbit hole that is Eddie Munson! Still love me some Stevie boy. 😩🤍

part 1 can be found here

Summary: Reader and Sara are back to rent another video from Steve, will he shoot his shot?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve waited for the following week to come; her rental expiring Monday evening. When Monday morning came, he made sure he had nothing to do in case she came the same time as last week.

And he was right.

Around 9:30, the bell jingled and Steve could hear the hushed conversation between the toddler and mama, who looked just as breathtaking as the first time he saw her.

“Nana’s house??” Y/n asked the child holding her hand. “Yeah!” Sara smiled devilishly.

“We’re gonna have to call Nana first but I imagine we can make it happen.” Y/n said as she picked Sara up to put her on hip. That was when she met Steve’s eyes, and it almost knocked his socks off.

He felt absolutely ridiculous. His heart thudded in his chest and he worried she could see his chest throb with adoration.

“So, how was it?” He asked expectantly.

“The Care Bears never disappoint, what can I say?” She grinned and placed Sara on the counter like last time. “Hello, Sara.” He greeted with a smile, which Sara matched bashfully.

“Hello.” She responded softly before turning back to her mothers shoulder, the action tugging at his heartstrings. “How was your week?” Steve asked, now looking to Y/n who couldn’t help but feel all warm inside that he acknowledged her daughter.

“It’s been busy, but I can’t complain.“ She shrugged.

“—Mommy, down.” Sara kicked her feet. Y/n bit her lip and looked around the store for customers and then how far she would wander and what she would grab—

“She can’t hurt anything in here, really. Nothing customers don’t already.” He assured her.

“Okay, don’t go far, okay?” She helped her off the counter and watched her wander to the kids section.

“Okay.” Sara called without turning back.

Steve smiled, “And how was Sara’s week?” He nodded towards the curly haired girl, his eyes showing genuine interest in the way he looked into her mothers eyes.

Y/n about melted on the spot. “She had a good week! Watched Care Bears about 37 times.” They giggled. “Went to the park, painted some rocks—“ his smiled widened in wonder, “—Added tons to our collection, actually.” She chuckled, looking at her fingers nervously.

“Do you have a lot?” He asked.

Y/n nodded, “Mhm. Some of them are raw cuts we’ve picked up on our travels, or some polished ones you can get at the store.” He nodded, again, waiting for her to keep talking, waiting to ask her about ‘their travels’

“And you?”

“Me? Oh, I don’t have any rocks.”

“No, silly, your week! How was your week?” She giggled at his blushing cheeks.

He tsked at himself, averting his eyes to regain his composure. “Oh, I’m just living the dream, you know? Renting movies and sorting tapes is kinda my passion.” He said leaning forward and propping his elbows on the counter. Y/n chuckled at his joke, his heart soaring at the sound. He couldn’t wait to tell Robin he made her laugh.

“Whatever pays the rent, right?” She shrugged. He nodded, for once setting down the embarrassment he felt surrounding his occupation, and wondered when he could ask what hers was.

Y/n dug around in her purse for the video case and then handed it over to Steve. As he accepted it, he realized again why they were here in the first place. He thanked her and marked it on time in the system. “Is there anything I can help you find today?” He asked, returning to his position at the counter in front of her.

Y/n pursed her lips and sighed, “I could use Dirty Dancing if you have it.”

Steve smiled, “Lemme see if it’s here.” He strolled over to the romance section, leaving her at the desk to watch him walk away in his favorite jeans, which were now her favorite too. He ducked behind a display to scan the shelves and saw the empty place Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey belonged.

“Not there.” He sighed, coming back around the counter and typing away before letting the monitor load. Y/n flashed a patient smile that reminded him of the nagging guilt tucked away in his chest.

An elephant in the room he wasn’t sure if she saw too.

“By the way, I’m sorry… for assuming the other day, I really should’ve known she was yours,” Steve shrugged and ran a nervous hand through his hair, meeting her eyes again with a half hearted smile.

“It was dumb of me, and—“

“It wasn’t dumb, Steve. Everyone does it. I’m either her sister or babysitter, don’t sweat it.” Y/n shrugged, which made Steve feel a lot better. She craned her neck to spy her daughter in a near aisle, sitting down with three movies in front of her. Before Y/n took a step to get her, Steve spoke, “Oh, c’mon, I should’ve thought sister before babysitter, I mean, she looks just like you, she’s gorgeous.” He said without hesitation, glancing over at Sara with a chuckle as she began haphazardly stacking the videos from the bottom shelf as high as she could.

Y/n’s blush burned brightly at the compliment, her incredulous smile making his heart pound in his chest, “But uh, I’d still really like to take you out sometime, if you’re free of any other kind of, uh, committed relationship…” Steve stammered, which Y/n thought was adorable.

“Is that your way of asking if I’m single?” She asked with a sweet smile, cradling her chin in her hands. Steve’s face flushed pink at her direct approach. He nodded, wiping a hand over his face to ground himself. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“I am very single, yes..” she smiled, his heart soaring at the sight.

Finally, things are going his way.

“but..” Steve’s heart stopped beating for a second before she spoke again. She noticed how his smile faltered, quick to explain herself, “No, no, no, I’d love to go out with you, really, I just don’t have a sitter too often, and I wouldn’t be able to… go out like other girls can.. I wouldn’t want to disappoint either of us, you know?” She said, placing a hand on top of his on the counter reassuringly.

Steve’s heart jump-started at the touch, immediately finding a solution to her problem, “I wouldn’t ever expect you to be able to go out with me like ‘other girls can’, and I love that.” He shrugged, Y/n shooting him a look of confusion in response.

“I want something bigger than what the girls around here want from me.” He sighed, sharing a knowing look with her, “I know you’re not gonna bullshit me, you know?” He could feel the oncoming rambles about to bubble out of him but he didn’t care, “Not to mention you obviously have your priorities in order, you’re caring, and responsible—and-and straightforward! That’s exactly what I want. And another thing—“ He leaned slightly closer for emphasis, “I’d be more than happy to take the both of you out to dinner, any time.” His eye contact unwavering from hers.

“Really?” She whispered. Steve wasted no time before he nodded just as gently, “Yes! There’s so many fun things we could take her to do around here, y’know? The parks beautiful, we could have a lunch there sometime! Or to the pumpkin patch in the… fall.” He cringed at his forward thinking.

Regardless, she smiled, her eyes shiny with speckled stars inside that he placed there with his sweet words and wishes. She nodded in response, placing her hand over his.

“There’s a really good ice cream store opening soon, too.” He shrugged and covered her hand with his other. “But for now, we could grab milkshakes at the diner. Maybe watch a movie some evening? Soon.”

Y/n all but melted at his words that dripped with sincerity. She sighed with a smile and nodded after a moment, a soft “Okay.” shocking Steve to his core. “Really?” He asked as if he’d imagined it.

“Yes, really.” Y/n blushed as the computer screen finished loading the inventory. Steve scrolled down, searching the list until he found Dirty Dancing, which was due back today.

“Just say when.” She said with quiet eagerness watching her daughter saunter over with a movie while Steve looked to her mother with adoration hidden behind his eyes. “I have good news and bad news,” He informed her with pursed lips as he came to lean on the counter again. Y/n sat the tape on the counter with a quirk of the brow.

“The good news, is that I am free for you guys any night this week after 6, but the bad news—” He leaned forward on the counter, “is that Dirty Dancing will not be back until tonight. If they show up on time.”

Y/n nodded slightly disappointed, but understanding until Steve came up with yet another solution. “But! I’d be happy to grab it for you as soon as it comes in.” He offered.

Her smile returned to her face at his words. “You really don’t have to do that, Steve, I can always come back.” She countered.

“I want to, really. It also gives me another excuse to see you outside of work.”

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes and dug through her purse for a pen and paper, Steve’s heart racing. She settled on a grocery receipt, ripping off a few inches to write on.

“This is my number,” She jotted down, “—give me a call later? After 7:30 should be good, and, uh, maybe we can figure out when we can watch that movie.” She slid the paper over to him, his index finger pulling it the rest of the way to him. He held it tightly, absolutely stoked at his accomplishment.

“I—I would love that.” He said sincerely, stifling his disbelieving chuckles, remembering he needed to check out Sara’s next movie, the Labyrinth.

“Ooh, I like this one.” Steve said to Sara, who grinned until he could hardly see her eyes and hid behind her moms legs. He rang up the purchase and fought the urge to pay for it himself as she handed him the $3.25.

He bagged it up and slid it over to her with a smile. “Have a good day, ladies.”

“I do it!” Sara insisted, grabbing for the bag. Y/n obliged her and looped her arm through the handles, dangling like a shoulder bag on the small child.

“You too, Steve.” She smiled and shook her head in sheer disbelief as she collected her daughters hand and made her way to the door.

“You’ll be hearing from me later.” He called after her.

She giggled and looked over her shoulder as Sara pulled her hand towards the door. “I’m looking forward to it.” She said.

“7:30!” He reminded after her as she pulled open the door to leave. “7:30.” She nodded and confirmed before the bell jingled behind her.

Steve’s eyes followed them to their car until they were safely inside and out of the parking lot. After that, Steve sank down to the floor behind the counter, holding the paper to his chest; feeling like a love struck fool in high school again.

The feeling worried him, made him uneasy, yet so excited and warm and dizzy. His chest heaved as he checked his watch to calculate the hours between now and 7:30 tonight.

9:45.

“Fuck!” His head fell back with a disappointed thud.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve’s day went by remarkably slow until Robin showed up for her shift after school. As soon as she opened the door, ready to inform him of a fight that broke out at lunch, Steve leapt over the counter to meet her at the door.

“ROBIN!” He shouted as he grabbed her shoulders. “What?! What??” She asked, looking for the fire.

“Look what I got today.” He said smugly, a proud smile hung on his face. Robin moved to the counter, Steve following intently.

When she looked up to see the paper resting between Steve’s fingers, her jaw dropped. “Is that—?” Steve couldn’t help but explain before she was able to finish, “Her phone number, that’s right, I have it. She gave it to me, I didn’t even have to ask, technically. She asked me to call her! Tonight!” He said anxiously pacing in front of her as she shrugged on her vest.

“I can’t believe she actually gave you her number.” Robin shook her head at the sliver of paper, fully convinced he’d blown it from the way he’d explained the first encounter.

“Yeah, me either. She’s incredible.” He shook his head at the thought of her.

“You don’t even know her yet!” Robin chided with a laugh. “I don’t have to know all about her to know she’s incredible. You’ll understand when you meet her someday.” He waved her off.

“I hope you make it that far.” Robin patted him on the back affectionately.

And for once, Steve really thought he would.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When 6:00 came, Steve dropped everything to strip off his vest as fast as he possibly could and tossed it to Robin, who stood behind the counter checking out customers.

“Good luck!” Robin called to him as he pushed through the door and waving his thanks behind him.

Steve treated himself to some KFC because today felt like his day. Every song that played on the drive home made him think of her and Sara.

He buried the worry. The fear of attachment, of rejection. He didn’t wanna feel that kinda pain again, but he was willing to risk it because the girl made him feel different—wonderfully different.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was 7:25.

Steve was showered, fed, and waiting on his bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him, next to the phone; his arms crossed over his bare chest.

Steve sighed deeply, deciding the quiet was too much. He crossed his room to the stereo, pressing play on his Cars tape and adjusting the volume.

He shook his shoulders out the way he would loosen them before a basketball game, and grabbed his small orange basketball to flop down with on top of his bed.

He threw the ball into the small hoop hanging from his closet with ease, realizing now that he didn’t want to get back up to retrieve it.

He groaned at the agony of trying to pass more time, then checked his watch again.

7:28

“Holy shit!” Steve panicked. His eyes searched for the slip of paper, realizing he didn’t have it with him the entire time he was home.

Steve dashed to the bathroom, searching for his pants before realizing he’d been responsible and put them down in the laundry room.

Finally he spotted the familiar Levi’s label and shoved his hands in the pockets. “Aha!!” He proclaimed as he unfolded the beautiful slip of paper.

Steve ran back upstairs and down the hall to dive onto his bed and dial her number.

He checked his watch as he pressed the phone to his ear; waiting for the call to go through, when he realized it was now 7:35.

His eyes shot open as her voice answered on the other end. “Hello?” She sounded as sweet as she did in person. “Hey! It’s Steve,” He said into the mouth piece, holding the phone with two hands like it’d slip away if he didn’t pay attention.

“Oh, hi, Steve! I was hoping it was you.” An audible smile in her voice.

He chuckled and tried to contain himself, “I’m uh, sorry I’m a little late, I was looking for my pants.” He said before smacking his palm against his forehead as she laughed.

“Your pants? Well, did you find them?” She asked amusedly. Steve relaxed and let himself laugh with her. “Yeah, I did, I-I was actually trying to find your phone number in them so I could call you on time.” He confessed.

“Well, I think you’re plenty on time. Don’t worry, you didn’t keep me waiting long, I just now got sat down with my dinner. It’s… been an evening, you could say.” She said with a bitter chuckle at the end.

“Oh? How so?” He asked, curious to hear about her day. “You don’t wanna hear about all that mess, really. Just toddler things. Screaming, potty training, vegetables, you know, the works.” She joked.

Steve smiled, his cheeks hurting at this point but not caring. “I’d be happy to hear about anything you wanna tell me. Besides, you mean to tell me my girl Sara has a mean-streak? I don’t buy it.” He said with a smirk.

Y/n scoffed, “Oh, boy, you have no idea. They’re little monsters, I tell you. The girl refuses to eat anything that isn’t macaroni or chicken. Broccoli? Forget about it.” She leaned against the wall of her kitchen, sat up on the end of her kitchen counter and twirling the phone cord in her fingers.

Steve loved listening to her, he could for hours and actually find everything interesting. So he did.

She told him about their daily routine; what it takes to get Sara ready to go of a morning, what it’s like when it’s just the two of them and what it’s like when she has to work. He found it all fascinating.

The tiny bowls of breakfast, the hair braids, the pink backpacks filled with emergency clothes in case of an accident at daycare, tantrums over forgotten sippy cups sounded more endearing than he knew they were supposed to.

It just was.

All of it.

“So, she does a preschool program at the daycare? What all can she do?” He asked.

“I mean, they do a lot of arts and crafts, but that does a lot more for their development than most would think. And she can tell you every color and almost count to 10 on her own.” She mentioned. Steve smiled at her pride for her daughter.

“Even if she’s a monster sometimes, it sounds like you’re raising a pretty great girl there.” He complimented which made Y/n swoon against the wall.

“You’re real sweet, Steve.” She said again.

“So I’ve heard,” He joked. “So I have to ask,” he started. Y/n’s ears perked at the change in topic. “Have you given my dinner invitation any thought?” He hoped.

Y/n smiled at his persistence. “I have, actually. And we were wondering if tomorrow evening was good for you?”

As if he’d have to think. “Tomorrow sounds fantastic.”

Part 3

Taglist lovelies 💖

@weasleylovers @cutiecusp @frostandflamesfanfic @realsuper-dark @hermadroyalhiney @flowersownme @imagineme2you @moonys-star @daydreaming-mood @just-a-lost-princess @the-fairy-anon @loving-and-dreaming

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff

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