#antique stuffed dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatsoanjie · 4 days

Text

Hometown

Sebastian Sallow x Muggle born! reader

Summary : Sebastian visits you and your family home the summer after your sixth year. You sort through childhood trinkets, share a moment you thought you weren't prepared for, and more ensues.

Word count : 7.6k

Notes : Dual POV! Chose West Sussex for this one lol. Also your muggle parents' names are Thea and Gerald.

No warnings! Just some good fluff lol.

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the rolling hills of West Sussex. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, a stark contrast to the harsh, windswept moors of Feldcroft. Sebastian Sallow stood on the edge of your family garden, gazing out at the landscape with a mix of wonder and curiosity. It was his first time visiting your home, and he found himself captivated by the serene beauty of the countryside.

"It's so different from Feldcroft," he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You stood a few paces away, turning to look at him, a hint of amusement flickering in your dark eyes. "Not used to all this greenery, Sallow?"

He grinned, his eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. "It's not that. Feldcroft has its own kind of beauty, but it's… harsher, I suppose. This place feels more… peaceful."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "West Sussex is like that. It's always been a place where I could escape, especially when things get overwhelming."

He watched you for a moment, noticing the way the evening light softened your features, making you seem almost ethereal. "I can see why you'd want to escape here," he said softly.

You looked away, trying to maintain your usual cool exterior, but there was a slight flush to your cheeks that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. "Come on," you said briskly, turning on your heel and heading toward the house. "I want to show you something."

Sebastian followed you inside, his curiosity piqued. Your home was a charming, old-fashioned house, filled with the kind of warmth and character that only years of happy memories could create. The walls were lined with framed photographs, many of them showing a younger version of yourself with your family, your smile more open and carefree than he had ever seen at Hogwarts.

"Your house is lovely," he remarked as you both climbed the stairs to the second floor. "It's got a lot of personality."

"Thanks," you replied casually. "It's been in the family for generations. My grandparents used to live here, and my parents inherited it when they passed away."

You led him down a narrow hallway to a small, cozy room at the end. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the shelves were lined with books, trinkets, and other mementos from your childhood. A large, antique trunk sat at the foot of the bed, its surface worn with age.

"This is my room," you said, your voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "I've had it since I was a kid."

Sebastian glanced around, taking in the details that gave him a glimpse into your past. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft.

You rolled your eyes, though there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "Don't get all sentimental on me, Sallow."

He chuckled, crossing the room to stand beside you. "Wouldn't dream of it."

You knelt beside the trunk, your fingers brushing over the worn wood as you opened it. "I thought you might like to see some of the things I’ve kept from when I was younger," you said, your tone casual, though there was a hint of vulnerability in your words.

Sebastian crouched down next to you, his interest piqued. "I'd love to."

You began pulling out various items, laying them on the floor between you. There were old, dog-eared books, a few stuffed animals, and a collection of pressed flowers, each one carefully preserved between the pages of a faded journal. As you worked, you explained the significance of each item, your voice growing softer and more thoughtful as you reminisced about your childhood.

"These were some of my favorite books," you said, handing him a well-worn copy of The Secret Garden. "I used to read them over and over again. They were my escape, I suppose, before I knew there was a real world of magic out there."

Sebastian took the book from you, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment before you pulled away. "I can imagine you with your nose buried in a book," he said with a grin. "Even before Hogwarts, you were always the serious type, huh?"

You huffed, though there was a faint smile on your lips. "I wasn’t always so serious. But I guess Hogwarts brought out a different side of me."

He studied you for a moment, noting the way you seemed more relaxed here, in the safety of your childhood home. "I like seeing this side of you," he said quietly. "It's different, but… it suits you."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, and you quickly busied yourself with the trunk, pulling out the next item to avoid meeting his gaze. "Here," you said, holding up a small, wooden box. "This is something I haven’t looked at in years."

You opened the box, revealing a collection of small trinkets—shells, stones, and other bits and pieces that you had gathered over the years. Sebastian reached in and picked up a smooth, blue stone, turning it over in his hand.

"This is pretty," he remarked, his voice thoughtful. "Where did you find it?"

You smiled, your expression softening as you remembered. "I found it on a family holiday to Cornwall when I was seven. I was convinced it was a magical stone, like something out of one of my books. I carried it with me everywhere."

He chuckled, holding the stone up to the light. "It’s not magical, but it’s got its own charm."

You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange mixture of affection and nervousness. There was something about the way he handled your old belongings, with such care and interest, that made your heart ache in a way you weren’t used to.

"You know," he said, his tone turning more serious, "it's moments like these that make me realize how different our lives were before Hogwarts. You had all this… this warmth, this history. Feldcroft was… well, you know what it’s like. It’s hard, isolated. Anne and I didn’t have much besides each other."

Your gaze softened, and you placed a hand on his arm. "You had each other, and that’s something. I didn’t have a sibling, but I always wanted one. I’m glad you had Anne."

He looked down at your hand, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled, a bit of the old mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "You’re different," he said, his voice low and teasing. "I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like you."

You quickly pulled your hand back, trying to maintain your composed exterior, though your heart was racing. "Don’t start, Sallow," you warned, though your tone was more playful than serious.

But he was undeterred, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Start what? Telling you that you’re intriguing? That I enjoy spending time with you?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re impossible."

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Maybe. But you like me anyway."

You tried to give him a stern look, but it was difficult to keep your composure when he was so close, his familiar scent filling your senses. "You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I just call it like I see it."

For a moment, the room was filled with a charged silence, the air thick with unspoken words and feelings. It was a moment of vulnerability, of closeness, that neither of you had quite expected. Your heart raced as you struggled to keep your cool, while Sebastian’s gaze softened, as though he were seeing you in a new light.

Finally, it was you who broke the tension, reaching for another item in the trunk. "Here," you said, your voice a bit too bright. "I want to show you this."

Sebastian watched you for a moment longer, as though considering whether to push the matter, but then he relented, leaning back to give you space.

You pulled out an old, leather-bound journal, its pages yellowed with age. "This was my first journal," you explained, your tone more subdued now. "I started it when I was eight. I used to write about everything—my dreams, my fears, the things I wanted to do when I grew up."

He took the journal from you, flipping through the pages with a gentle touch. "Did you ever write about magic?" he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, a wistful smile on your lips. "All the time. I didn’t know it was real, of course, but I was fascinated by the idea of it. I used to imagine that I was a witch, living in a world full of magical creatures and hidden powers."

Sebastian’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, his expression thoughtful. "And now you’re living that dream."

"Yes," you agreed, though your tone was tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But it’s different from what I imagined. The reality is… more complicated."

He nodded, understanding the weight behind your words. "It always is. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it."

You looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite name. There was something about Sebastian—something in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke to you—that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t been before. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"For what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"For being here," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor. "For understanding."

He reached out, gently lifting your chin so that you were looking at him again. "I’m glad I’m here," he said. "And I’m glad you let me in."

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Sebastian leaned in, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, you considered closing the distance between you. But then, at the last moment, you pulled back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"We should… we should get some rest," you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. "It’s getting late."

Sebastian blinked, surprised by your sudden change in demeanor, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you’re right. Tomorrow’s another day."

He stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he prepared to leave. "Thanks for showing me all this," he said, his tone genuine. "It means a lot that you’d share it with me."

You managed a small smile, though your heart was still racing. "I’m glad you’re here, Sebastian. I really am."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "Goodnight," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Goodnight," you replied, watching as he left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, your hand coming up to rest against your chest as you tried to steady your racing heart. You had managed to keep your cool, but just barely. There was no denying the pull you felt toward Sebastian, but you knew you had to be careful. You couldn’t afford to let your emotions get the better of you, not when there was so much at stake.

But as you sat there, surrounded by the remnants of your childhood, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was a future for you two beyond friendship. It was a dangerous thought, one that you weren’t quite ready to entertain. But it was there, lingering in the back of your mind, a quiet whisper of what could be.

And as you finally settled into bed, your thoughts drifting to the boy who had become so much more than just a friend, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that whatever the future held, it was bound to be anything but ordinary.

·····

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian closed the door to the guest room quietly, letting out a long, slow breath as he leaned back against the wood. His heart was still pounding in his chest, a mixture of adrenaline and something else—something that had been building for years, ever since you had walked into his life.

West Sussex was nothing like Feldcroft. It was peaceful here, almost idyllic, with its rolling hills and lush gardens. The kind of place he might have daydreamed about as a kid, before the world had gotten so complicated. But it wasn’t the beauty of the countryside that had him restless tonight. It was you.

You were unlike anyone he’d ever met—mysterious, guarded, and yet so incredibly captivating. From the moment you arrived at Hogwarts in your fifth year, you intrigued him. But it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. The feelings he had for you had deepened, grown into something he wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

As he moved to the small window in the guest room, looking out at the moonlit garden below, his thoughts were consumed by the events of the evening. He could still see you there, sitting on the floor of your childhood room, surrounded by memories you’d chosen to share with him. It had been a rare glimpse into the side of you that you didn’t often reveal—a side that was vulnerable, human, and so beautifully real.

And then there had been that moment—that moment—when he’d almost kissed you.

He could still feel the warmth of your breath, the soft brush of your fingers as they’d touched while going through your childhood things. It had taken every ounce of restraint not to close the distance between you, to lean in and finally see what it would be like to kiss you, to taste the lips that had haunted his dreams for so long.

But you had pulled away. And that, more than anything, had left him reeling.

Sebastian wasn’t used to feeling uncertain. He was usually confident, even cocky, but you had a way of knocking him off balance. You had a coolness about you, a way of keeping your emotions in check that made him feel like he was always chasing, always trying to catch up.

But tonight, in that room, he’d seen something else. A flicker of something in your eyes, a moment of hesitation that told him you weren’t as unaffected as you pretended to be. It gave him hope—a dangerous, exhilarating hope—that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way he did.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a surge of frustration. He was good at reading people, but you were a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Every time he thought he was getting close, you pulled back, retreating behind that carefully constructed facade of yours. It was maddening, but it was also what drew him to you even more.

Sighing, Sebastian moved away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed. He knew he should get some sleep, but his mind was too wired, too full of thoughts of you. The way you’d looked at him, the softness in your voice when you’d thanked him for understanding… It was a side of you he wanted to see more of, a side he wanted to bring out of you, even if it meant pushing a little harder, taking a few risks.

But then there was the other side of it—the fear that if he pushed too hard, he might scare you away. The last thing he wanted was to lose whatever it was you had, this delicate balance of friendship, flirtation, and something deeper that neither of you had quite dared to name.

Sebastian leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. In the stillness, his thoughts drifted back to Feldcroft, to the harsh, windswept landscape that had been his home for so long. It was a place that had shaped him, hardened him, but it was also a place full of memories he’d rather forget.

Coming to your hometown was like stepping into another world, one that was softer, warmer, and so full of life. It was a world he wanted to be a part of, a world that you had invited him into, even if you hadn’t fully realized it yet.

He closed his eyes, the image of your smiling face lingering in his mind. There was a part of him that wanted to rush things, to make you see what was right in front of you. But there was another part—perhaps the wiser part—that knew he had to be patient. You were worth the wait, worth the effort, and if he wanted to win you over, he’d have to do it on your terms.

But damn if it wasn’t difficult.

He felt the weight of your journal in his hand, the one he hadn’t quite been able to let go of after you handed it to him. It was a piece of you, something deeply personal, and he found himself opening it, flipping through the pages with care.

The entries were written in a neat, precise hand, filled with the thoughts and dreams of a younger you, a girl who hadn’t yet been touched by the complexities of the magical world. He smiled as he read about your childhood fantasies, your belief in magic long before you knew it was real. It was like seeing a part of you that had been hidden away, a part that was still innocent and hopeful.

He paused on one entry, written in faded ink, the words barely legible. It was a dream you’d had, about a world where everything was possible, where you could be anything you wanted to be. You’d written about wanting to be strong, to make a difference, to find your place in a world that often felt too big, too overwhelming.

Sebastian felt a pang in his chest as he read those words, understanding all too well the feeling of being lost, of trying to find your way in a world that didn’t always make sense. But you had found your way, and you were stronger than you realized. It was one of the things he admired most about you, one of the things that made him want to be by your side, no matter what.

He closed the journal, setting it gently on the bedside table before lying back down. Sleep still felt distant, but he knew he needed to try. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to figure out where you both stood, to see if there was something more between you waiting to be discovered.

But as he tried to fall asleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: he was falling for you, and there was no turning back. Whatever happened next, he was in this—completely, utterly, and without reservation.

And he could only hope that, in time, you might feel the same way too.

·····

Your POV

The water cascaded down in a steady stream, warm against your skin as you stood under the showerhead, letting the heat soak into your muscles. But no matter how soothing the water was, it couldn’t wash away the frustration that churned inside you.

Why had you pulled away from him? The question kept circling in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. You’d felt it—the moment, the one where the air between you had practically crackled with tension, where the closeness, the intimacy, had felt like a fragile thread just waiting to be tugged. And yet, at the last second, you had stepped back, put distance between you and Sebastian, the boy who had somehow, over the past year, managed to get under your skin in a way no one else ever had.

You turned off the water with a sharp twist of the knob, the sound of the showerhead sputtering to a stop the only noise in the bathroom. The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the echoes of your own thoughts. You were angry—angry at yourself for being so guarded, for letting fear and caution dictate your actions.

You stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was composed, calm, the same mask you wore every day. But beneath that exterior was a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to control, a whirlwind of longing, confusion, and something else—something that scared you.

You wanted him. There was no denying it anymore, no point in pretending that you didn’t feel the same pull, the same desire that he so clearly felt. But you had always been so careful, so determined to keep yourself in check, to avoid the pitfalls of vulnerability that could lead to heartache.

But now, standing there in the dim light of the bathroom, you realized that maybe—just maybe—being careful wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe it was time to take a risk, to stop holding back and let yourself feel, let yourself be open to whatever it was that Sebastian had been offering, had been waiting for.

Your heart pounded as you dried off, slipping into a soft, comfortable set of pajamas, your mind racing as you made up your mind. You had pulled away from him once, but you didn’t have to keep running. Not from him. Not from what you wanted.

Wrapping your towel around your damp hair, you took a deep breath and made your way to the guest room where Sebastian was staying. The house was quiet, the only sound the creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet as you padded down the hallway. With each step, your resolve strengthened, and by the time you reached his door, you were determined to finish what he had started.

You hesitated for only a moment before raising your hand and knocking softly. The sound seemed to echo in the silence of the night, and you held your breath, waiting.

There was a pause, and then you heard his voice, soft and questioning. “Yeah?"

"Sebastian," you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. "It’s me."

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the dim light of the guest room, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was still dressed in his clothes from earlier, though his shirt was rumpled, and his hair was slightly tousled, as though he had been lying down.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his as you stepped closer. "I’m sorry," you said quietly, the words coming out more easily than you’d expected. "For earlier. For pulling away."

His expression softened, and he stepped back to let you into the room, closing the door gently behind you. "You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn’t," you assured him quickly, shaking your head. "That’s not it. I just… I’m not used to this. To feeling like this."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he nodded slowly, his voice tender as he spoke. "Neither am I, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for."

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he might be holding back for your sake, that he was willing to put his own feelings aside just to make sure you were comfortable. But more than that, you felt a surge of affection for him, for the way he had always been patient with you, even when you had given him every reason not to be.

"Sebastian," you said softly, taking a step closer until you were standing just inches away from him, "I’m ready. I’m here because I want to be. With you."

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you palpable, charged with the weight of everything unspoken. Then, slowly, as if afraid you might change your mind, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re sure?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

You nodded, your own voice trembling slightly as you replied, "I’m sure."

That was all the encouragement he needed. In the next moment, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, his warmth seeping into you as you melted against him. It was the first time you had ever allowed yourself to be this close to him, to let your guard down completely, and it was intoxicating.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "I’ve wanted this for so long."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Me too," you admitted to both him and yourself, the words soft, almost fragile.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression tender, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His hand slid down to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a gentleness that made your chest tighten.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid to break the spell that had settled over you.

But you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to go back to the way things had been, always holding back, always pretending that you didn’t feel the way you did. So instead of pulling away, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses.

It was soft, tentative, as if you were both testing the waters, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, a spark that ignited something deep inside. Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening slightly on your waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips warm and insistent against yours.

You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips. It was all so new, so overwhelming, but at the same time, it felt right—like this was where you were meant to be, in his arms, with his lips on yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The room was filled with a heavy silence, but it was a silence that spoke volumes, that said all the things you hadn’t yet found the words to say.

"I don’t want to hold back anymore," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. "I want to be with you, Sebastian."

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. "Well, now you’ve heard it," you replied, your tone light, but your words filled with sincerity. "And I mean it."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that made your breath catch in your throat. "I want this too," he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I want you."

There was something in the way he said it, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just about the attraction, the physical pull you felt toward him. It was deeper than that, something that had been building between you for months, something that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.

It was a connection, a bond that went beyond friendship, beyond the flirtation that had danced between you. It was something real, something that had the potential to be so much more if you were both brave enough to let it.

And in that moment, as you stood there in the quiet of the guest room, you realized that you were ready. You were ready to take that step, to let yourself feel, to let yourself be open to whatever it was that you had with Sebastian.

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had barely settled into the guest room, his thoughts still a tangled mess from earlier, when there was a soft knock on his door. His heart leapt into his throat, recognizing the sound immediately—your knock.

"Yeah?" he called softly, not entirely trusting his voice to stay steady.

"Sebastian" came your reply, a quiet affirmation that sent his pulse racing even faster. "It’s me."

For a moment, he hesitated, a whirlwind of emotions storming inside him. He had convinced himself that tonight was over, that whatever had been brewing between you two would have to wait, maybe forever. But here you were, standing outside his door in the dead of night, and he could hardly believe it.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides and opened the door, finding you standing there in your pajamas, your hair still damp from the shower, your eyes searching his face with an intensity that made his breath catch.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, the words coming out before he could think them through. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was anything less than thrilled to see you there.

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his, and in that moment, Sebastian felt the air between you crackle with that same electric tension you had shared earlier. "I’m sorry," you said, your voice so soft and vulnerable that it cut right through him. "For earlier. For pulling away."

Sebastian’s heart twisted at the sight of you like this—unsure, almost apologetic, when you had no reason to be. He stepped back to let you in, closing the door behind you as a wave of protectiveness washed over him. "You don’t have to apologize," he said gently, trying to reassure you. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn’t," you insisted, shaking your head. "That’s not it. I just… I’m not used to this. To feeling like this."

Your words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Sebastian was struck silent by the raw honesty in them. He had always known that you were different, that you kept your emotions close to your chest, guarded by that cool facade you wore so well. But hearing you admit that you were struggling with these feelings, that you were feeling just as conflicted and overwhelmed as he was… it made him want to reach out, to close the gap between you and tell you that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

"Neither am I, if I’m being honest," he confessed, his voice tender. "But I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for."

It was the truth. Sebastian had always been drawn to you, fascinated by your quiet strength, your intelligence, the way you carried yourself with a calm confidence that made others take notice. But he also knew how easily you could retreat behind that wall of yours, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, too fast.

"Sebastian," you said softly, taking another step closer, until you were just inches apart. He could feel the warmth of your body, the faint scent of your soap still clinging to your skin, and it made his heart race all over again. "I’m ready. I’m here because I want to be. With you."

The words hit him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve in his body. For a moment, he simply stared at you, hardly daring to believe that this was real. But the sincerity in your eyes, the way you were looking at him, was all the confirmation he needed.

His breath hitched as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed his fingers against your cheek. "You’re sure?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He needed to hear you say it again, needed to know that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I’m sure."

And that was it. The last thread of restraint inside him snapped, and he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could somehow shield you from everything else in the world. The feel of you against him, soft and warm, sent a shiver down his spine, and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he let the moment wash over him.

"I’ve wanted this for so long," he whispered, his voice shaking with the intensity of his feelings.

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest against his. "Me too," you murmured, the words so soft that they barely reached his ears, but they were enough to make his heart swell with emotion.

Sebastian pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face, memorizing the way you looked at him, the way you seemed to glow in the soft light of the room. His hand slid down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline with a tenderness that he didn’t think he was capable of.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He needed you to know that you were in control, that he would never push you further than you wanted to go.

But instead of pulling away, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses. It was tentative, hesitant, but it sent a bolt of electricity straight through him, igniting a fire that had been smoldering for months.

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that he could no longer deny. The world outside the room seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, caught in the whirlwind of your emotions, your desires.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers tangling in his shirt as you responded to his kiss, your movements just as desperate, just as full of need. It was everything he had imagined, everything he had dreamed about, but it was also so much more, so much deeper, because it was real.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The room was silent, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts, but it was a silence that spoke of all the things you hadn’t said, all the things you had been too afraid to admit.

"I don’t want to hold back anymore," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. "I want to be with you, Sebastian."

Sebastian felt his heart swell at your words, felt the last of his doubts melt away in the warmth of your confession. He let out a shaky laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Well, now you’ve heard it," you replied, your tone light, but your words filled with sincerity. "And I mean it."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that he had never felt for anyone else. "I want this too," he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I want you."

And it was the truth. He wanted you, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But it wasn’t just about the attraction, the physical pull he felt toward you. It was deeper than that, something that had been building between you for months, something that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.

And as he stood there, holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Sebastian knew that he was ready. He was ready to take that step, to let himself feel, to let himself be open to whatever it was that you had together.

So, when you leaned in again, your lips finding his in a kiss that was deeper, more certain, he didn’t hesitate. He kissed you back with everything he had, pouring all of his emotions into that one moment, letting you know without words that he was all in, that he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

And as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, he knew that this was only the beginning.

Whatever the future held, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were in this together, and that was more than enough for him.

Because in this moment, with you in his arms, he knew that he had found something real, something worth holding on to.

And he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

****

Your POV – The morning after

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden light across the room. You blinked slowly, the events of the previous night coming back to you in a rush of emotion. The memories were vivid—Sebastian’s touch, the tenderness in his gaze, the way he had held you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. You turned your head on the pillow, your heart swelling at the sight of him beside you, still sound asleep, his breathing soft and even.

For a moment, you simply watched him, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. Last night had been more than you could have ever hoped for—filled with intimacy, trust, and the quiet understanding that whatever had been brewing between you had finally found its place.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed, your feet touching the cool wooden floor. As you stood, wrapping yourself in a robe, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what your parents would say when they saw the two of you together this morning.

You were certain they had been waiting for this moment almost as long as you had.

The house was quiet as you made your way downstairs, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. You found your parents in the kitchen, your mother, Thea, standing by the stove while your father, Gerald, sat at the table, reading the morning paper.

“Good morning,” you greeted, your voice a bit softer than usual, as though you were afraid to break the gentle peace that had settled over the house.

“Good morning, darling,” your mother replied, turning to you with a warm smile. “Did you sleep well?”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you quickly busied yourself with pouring a cup of coffee. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

Your father glanced up from his paper, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So, where’s young Mr. Sallow this morning?”

You nearly choked on your coffee, the blush deepening as you shot your father a look. “He’s… He’ll be down in a bit.”

Your mother exchanged a glance with your father, her smile widening as she turned back to the stove. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before you two finally sorted things out,” she said, her tone light but full of warmth.

You stared at her, a mix of embarrassment and surprise flooding through you. “You knew?”

Gerald chuckled, setting his paper down. “It was fairly obvious, love. The way you two have been dancing around each other for the past year… It was only a matter of time.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, a mixture of relief and amusement filling you. “I didn’t realize we were so transparent.”

Thea turned to face you, her eyes soft and full of understanding. “It’s alright. We’re just happy that you’ve found someone who makes you so happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the emotions of the past day catching up with you. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot.”

Before your mother could respond, you heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his hair still slightly tousled from sleep. He hesitated for a moment when he saw you standing with your parents, but then he offered a sheepish smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Sebastian,” your father greeted, his voice full of warmth. “I trust you slept well?”

Sebastian’s eyes flicked to you, and you could see the faint flush on his cheeks as he replied, “Yes, very well. Thank you.”

“Good, good,” Gerald said with a nod, clearly enjoying the moment. “Breakfast is almost ready. Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

Sebastian glanced at you, a small, tentative smile playing on his lips, before he nodded and moved to sit at the table. You followed suit, taking the seat beside him, your heart fluttering at the thought of how natural it all felt—sitting there with him, with your parents, as though this was how it was always meant to be.

Your mother set a plate of eggs and toast in front of you both, her eyes twinkling with barely concealed amusement. “So,” she began, her tone casual, “how long have you and Sebastian been… you know?”

You nearly dropped your fork, your eyes widening in shock. “Mum!”

Thea laughed, a light, musical sound that only added to your embarrassment. “What? I’m just curious. It’s not every day my daughter brings home such a charming young man.”

Sebastian chuckled beside you, his usual confidence returning as he glanced at your mother. “I think we only just figured that out ourselves, Mrs. Williams.”

Your mother beamed, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, it’s about time, if you ask me. We were starting to wonder if we needed to give you two a little nudge.”

Gerald nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on his face. “We’ve been watching you two for a while now, and I have to say, it’s nice to see you finally getting on with it.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest at their words. They had always been supportive, always encouraged you to follow your heart, but hearing them speak so openly about their approval of Sebastian—it meant more than you could put into words.

Sebastian reached under the table, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced at him, finding his eyes filled with that same tenderness that had been there last night, the one that made your heart swell with affection.

“We’ll try not to disappoint,” he said with a grin, his voice teasing, but there was an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of light conversation and easy laughter, the kind that came naturally when you were surrounded by people who cared for you, who wanted nothing more than to see you happy. And as you sat there, hand in hand with Sebastian, you realized just how lucky you were—to have him, to have your parents, to have this moment.

When breakfast was finished, your parents rose from the table, your mother patting you gently on the shoulder as she passed by. “We’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” she said with a knowing smile. “Take your time.”

As they left the kitchen, you turned to Sebastian, your heart full to bursting with everything you felt for him, everything you hadn’t yet had the chance to say.

“They knew,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, pulling you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. “They did. They’re smarter than we gave them credit for.”

You smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.”

“Apparently not,” he agreed, his voice soft, a hint of amusement lacing his words. “But I’m glad. It feels… good, doesn’t it? To finally be here, with you.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love for this boy who had somehow become so much more than just a friend. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt. “It feels perfect.”

And as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever uncertainties the future held, you would face them together—with the love of your parents behind you, and with Sebastian by your side.

***

This one was funnn!! Thank you for reading, requests are open. Hope you're having a good september!

28 notes · View notes

littlemisspascal · 1 year

Text

Rockford & Roan Pt. 2

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: A week into living together, you start to realize there’s something…peculiar about your roommate.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford

Author Note: Thank you so so much for all the kind support 😊 I've really enjoyed writing for these characters and developing their world + relationship. If you want, check out some art I made for the fic here. Hope y'all like this new part!

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Part 1 / Part 3

The Apartment

445D Albatross Lane does indeed have an unmistakably yellow door.

Standing on the sidewalk, you and Banjo stare up at the building. Well, you’re staring up at the six stories of tan bricks and arched windows, Banjo is far more interested in the smells coming from the small bakery situated just to the right of the canary yellow door. A sign on the window says they make pet friendly treats. Banjo would never forgive you if you didn’t buy him some to try sometime.

Overall, it’s a quiet and nondescript place on a quiet and nondescript street. Definitely not as modern or bustling as your current apartment on the other side of town. It’s clean though. Mellow. Charming in its own funny little way.

“Hello again, Miss Roan,” Rockford’s voice pulls you out of your observations, turning around to find him paying a cab driver. “And you, as well, Banjo,” he adds when the little mutt barks in greeting.

His appearance hasn’t changed much since yesterday, same white shirt and ruffled hair, but he’s ditched the trenchcoat this time, revealing just how much the cotton fabric stretches to accommodate his expansive shoulders.

“It’s a nice place,” you say as he comes to stand next to you.

He quirks a smile. “Just wait ‘til you see the inside.”

In the elevator, Rockford presses the button for the 4th floor. You stand next to each other; him silently watching the numbers tick by over the doors, you silently watching him out of the corner of your eye.

He seems calm. Outwardly, at least, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. You wonder if it would mirror the same internally, ocean waters smooth and still. Your mind-gift hovers at the edges of his aura, torn between the selfish desire to submerge into his emotions again and the terrifying wariness of triggering his discomfort. It’s only the second day of knowing each other, after all, and there is such a thing as too much too fast.

But oh how you want…

You run your tongue over your bottom lip, thinking of how you could ask without sounding impolite or, worse, desperate—except then the elevator’s stopping and Rockford’s gesturing for you to follow him down the hallway.

“Only got the one key at the moment,” he produces said item from his pocket, unlocking the third door on the right, “but if you’re still certain about moving in after you look around, I’ll talk to the landlady about making copies. She’s a friend of the family, owes me a favor or two.”

You turn in a slow circle inside the living room, taking in everything while Rockford points out some of the appealing features. Good amount of natural light from the windows, updated appliances, ample sized rooms with high ceilings. The walls are painted a soothing cream color, lined with a couple of shelves here and there covered in books and random trinkets. A miniature globe, a solved Rubik’s cube, and an antique camera standing out amongst the clutter.

What he doesn’t point out is the abundance of boxes stacked in practically every corner, filled to the brim with even more books and folders stuffed with documents. Or the assortment of laboratory glassware spread out across the adjoining kitchen’s countertops. Or, most alarmingly, the joker playing card stabbed to the wall with a knife.

“My brother and I, we’re very competitive,” he explains, noticing your staring. Then, with a chuckle that sounds a bit too forced to be real, “God forbid we ever play Monopoly, we’d murder each other.”

“Does he live nearby?” you ask, filing away the little factoid in the corner of your brain you’ve decided to label Tim Rockford 101.

“Unfortunately,” is the short reply, and that’s the end of that.

You take another look around, slowly drifting over all the details big and small, thinking to yourself you can see it—a life for yourself here—just from this little glimpse.

There’s a comfortable looking plush navy couch pushed against the wall you’ll take naps on after sessions with Dr. Odair, and a perfect spot for a dog bed by the center window, and a pair of floral-patterned armchairs near a dark wood coffee table and fluffy white rug that have no good reason being grouped together and yet—and yet, somehow, you can’t imagine anything else more fitting.

“It's great,” you say, nodding your head. “You’ve found a wonderful place.”

His eyebrows furrow like you’ve given him a complicated math problem instead of a compliment.

“What?” You glance down at yourself self-consciously, worried about finding a stain, but see nothing wrong.

“You’re restraining yourself,” he says at last. “Outside on the street, I could understand keeping your mind-gift close, but here, where it’s just you and me, I’d hoped you would be comfortable enough not to suppress your empathy.”

“You–” Your breath catches in your throat, heart performing a somersault. “You mean, you don’t mind it?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead now, surprised and dismayed. “Of course not,” he says, so earnest and sincere you don’t even need your mind-gift to know he’s telling the truth. “Your mind-gift led to our matching. More importantly than that, it’s a part of you. I can’t promise my emotions will always be pleasant, but I can promise they’re yours to feel just as much as they are mine, Miss Roan.”

It’s…overwhelming to process. Rockford accepting your mind-gift wholly and completely. Rockford giving you unrestricted access to his feelings, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It’s the greatest offering of trust you’ve ever received, not even your own parents gave you such permission to feel their every change in mood.

You’re speechless for a long moment, furiously blinking back against embarrassing tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you croak, and then divert your gaze to the hallway leading to the other rooms. “I’d like to see the rest, if that’s alright?”

He leads the way with an easy smile, and there’s only the faintest of stumbles in his step when your empathy tentatively brushes against his mind before his emotions rise up to greet you like an old friend.

Yeah, you think to yourself, looking around the bedroom that will soon be yours, head filled with the gentle lapping of waves. I think I’m going to like it here.

The transition from living alone with a dog to now living with a dog and roommate is a surprisingly smooth one. Maybe it’s the influence of the bond further tying your lives irreversibly together, but a part of you likes to think even if you weren’t a matched pair, you and Rockford could just have easily carved out a space to cohabitate. A little realm of your own making.

You move into your new bedroom with a mattress twice as big as your old one, the few personal items you own seamlessly mixing with Rockford’s in the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. Your toothbrush shares a cup with his, the grocery list sticks to the fridge with a magnet from the pet shelter, a blanket your mom gave you for your last birthday drapes over the back of the couch.

Even Banjo settles quickly into the new environment. After spending the first two days sniffing everything in sight, he finds a new favorite spot on the living room floor warmed by the sunlight to stretch out his legs like a starfish. His leash hangs up on one of the entryway wall hooks next to Rockford’s trench coat and his basket of toys fits perfectly in the bottom nook of the hall closet, filling up the final tiny gaps, cementing this apartment as home.

The Roommate

A week into living together, you start to realize there’s something…peculiar about your roommate. He’d forewarned you about his unpredictable schedule and insomnia, but you hadn’t anticipated the way he locks himself away in his office for hours some days—spending most of the time pacing, if the creaking floorboards are any indication, deep in thought—or his frequent penchant for leaving the apartment in the middle of the night without any explanation. Not that he owes you one. He’s entitled to his own private affairs, but still. Peculiar.

His emotions provide you with little clues to fill in the missing blanks. Mostly his mood’s a state of calm, calm, calm throughout the day, interrupted by the occasional splash of amusement, rumbling thunder of frustration or jarring spasm that accompanies a sudden change of thought. Epiphanies floating up from beneath the surface, from the vast, dark chasms that transfix your mind-gift with their mystery. How far down do they go? What, if anything, lies at the bottom?

You want to ask—about where he goes, about his gift, about so much—but asking would risk revealing just how much you enjoy collecting facts about Rockford, like a pathetic little magpie constructing a nest of shiny things. So rather than potentially die from embarrassment, you keep your mental list to yourself, adding to it as the days go by.

One - he’s an avid reader.

You’ll be honest, a small part of you initially thought perhaps the heaps of books throughout the apartment were just for show. Some kind of library aesthetic maybe. But no, set any book or magazine or newspaper down in front of him and he’ll inhale the words like they’re his lifeblood. The genre and topic don’t matter either. Historical events, fairy tales, biographies, poetry, science fiction, true crime. You’ve caught him reading all of them, felt his emotions swirl and surge with every turn of the page, heard fragments of sentences murmured aloud dulcetly while you dozed on the couch.

Two - he solves the Fox Leap Times crossword every morning.

Eating breakfast together becomes a staple in your daily routines. No matter where he goes at night or what time he returns, he’s always there in the kitchen come dawn. The meals are never overly fancy—the military didn’t offer much in the way of cooking classes, and your meager skills and can-do attitude are only a little better than Rockford’s—but regardless, just like his reading habits, he isn’t picky about what’s on his plate. A couple mouthfuls and a few sips of coffee—black with a dash of cinnamon—and he’s powering through the puzzle like he’s been possessed, finishing the whole thing in under ten minutes with a pleased little smirk.

Three - he’s a connoisseur of takeout food.

There’s a collection of menus stashed in the drawer near the fridge from every eatery that surpassed Rockford’s high standards, within easy reach during evenings when there’s nothing left to eat except for a jar of mayonnaise or the last swallows of an expired milk carton. Rockford had spent a solid month gathering data and reviews from restaurants, cafes, vendors and food trucks to figure out the best of the best. I was between jobs, is all he says with a one-shouldered shrug of indifference when you ask him about it. Your shock (and slight alarm) at the dedicated lengths of his research quickly melted away during the first bite of a heavenly cheeseburger drowning in grease and a secret sauce from a little hole-in-the-wall joint you’d never have given a second glance without Rockford’s thirty-odd spreadsheets of persuasion.

Four - you’ve never seen him sleep.

All humans need sleep to survive, even eccentric and peculiar men like Tim Rockford. Yet he’s always up when you retire to bed at night and always up before fiddling around with something in his office or reading a book. His emotions are never tainted with the fog and distortion of unconsciousness either. You tell yourself he must sleep while you’re out, and try not to take it personally that he doesn’t feel secure enough to rest while you’re around.

Five - your empathy intrigues him.

For as much as Rockford’s emotional mindscape fascinates your empathy, he seems, bizarrely enough, just as interested in learning the ins and outs of your ability. You’d never previously thought of your mind-gift as a particularly exciting one—influencing and interpreting emotions pales in comparison to predicting events or levitating things across the room. But the way Rockford interacts with your empathy, easily accustoming to its presence, nudging against it playfully sometimes; and the way he hangs off your every word while you describe how you were prone to tantrums as a child, body overwhelmed by emotions that weren’t your own, exploding like fireworks until there was nothing left to do but scream, almost makes you feel like you’re something important. Something special.

Six - there’s a pinboard in his office covered in pictures of dead bodies.

…what?

#tim rockford #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x ofc #tim rockford fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

137 notes · View notes

sku11kidz · 8 months

Text

Come, my child.

Fandom: Biohazard: Village, Resident Evil 8, Resident Evil: Village

Character Tags: Ethan Winters, Reader, Rosemary Winters (mention), Mother Miranda, Alicia Dimitrescu, Salvador Moreau, Karl Heisenberg,

Tags: Lord Ethan winters AU, Haha Ethan is an old 1950s dad, soft, Alternate canon, father is fathering, Child!Reader, children, horror tags, Ethan isn’t a good person, no matter how he wants to convince himself he is :(, reader is no older than 12, ???, writer is a teenager/slow updates

All is platonic in this fic.

Please do not tag as otherwise

PROSHIP DNI 🍖🌈 DNI

The air is sharp and cold. It feels like you’ve been lost from the village for hours. Your parents told you not to go too far out into the village yet you did out of feeling curious and brave.

You were hungry and weak as the snow bit and ripped your body apart without even touching you. Despite this, your own ego prevented you from going back.

Blinded, you looked up to see a small home in the woods. The home has a simple and modest exterior, with a simple white paint job and a small front porch.

The windows were warm and inviting as the voice calls out to you. “Child. Dear child. Come here. Let me comfort you.” The voice called out. “Come home to me.” This voice was masculine and soft.

As you wake up, you feel the warmth of a cozy bed. The bedroom you’re in is soft and homey. The room is filled with various stuffed animals and kids toys. The thing was, who brought you in here?

You open the door and begin to creep downstairs. The bright walls of the hallway compliment the dark wooden floors. Small roses and carnations are painted the walls, it reminds you of a hospital in a way.

Whoever lived here really enjoyed plants. Specifically, roses and carnations. The base floor wasn’t much different. Same floral print as before, the walls were just green this time. This whole situation had you thinking.

Who brought you in? Was in the same person who spoke to you before? Just as you think this, you’re hit with the smell of mashed potatoes and roast chicken.

The aroma was intoxicating and mouth watering. You felt your own stomach growl, it had been a while since you had eaten. Last time you ate was when your mom sent you out to the forest this morning. By the look of the windows, it was after 8pm.

Beginning to think with your stomach, you follow the smell. As you get closer, you hear soft humming. It sounds like the song *Be Cruel/Hound Dog* by Elvis.

Coming closer, the smell gets stronger. You peek in the kitchen and see a tall man, Ethan. He hums softly and pulls the roast chicken out of the oven. It looked as tasty as it smelt. The chicken is a golden brown, covered in crispy skin and dripping with juices. A small hint of garlic and lemon can be seen along the lines of the chicken.

Just as you observe the chicken and get lost in the daydream of eating, you hear Ethan let out a small gasp of shock. You somehow startled him. He chuckles and puts the chicken down on the stove. “You’re awake.” He coos, bending down to your level. A bit scared, you back away. Ethan frowns and raises his hands. “Listen—! Listen,” he chuckles “I’m friendly, see?” Feeling his generosity, you slightly let your guard down.

Ethan sighs and smiled. “I was just about to wake you up. You’ve been sleep for hours and it’s almost dinner time, sweetheart.” He stands up and and picks the roast chicken up, placing it on the table. “Here, take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon.” He ruffles your hair while you sit at the table.

Just as you observe the chicken and get lost in the daydream of eating, you hear Ethan let out a small gasp of shock. You somehow startled him. He chuckles and puts the chicken down on the stove. “You’re awake.” He coos, bending down to your level. A bit scared, you back away. Ethan frowns and raises his hands. “Listen—! Listen,” he chuckles, “I’m friendly, see?” Feeling his generosity, you slightly let your guard down.

Ethan sighs and smiles. “I was just about to wake you up. You’ve been sleeping for hours and it’s almost dinner time, sweetheart.” He stands up and picks the roast chicken up, placing it on the table. “Here, take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon.” He ruffles your hair while you sit at the table.

The dining room walls have small antique photos of Ethan and what looks like his wife and daughter. You can’t even register the whole picture before you’re distracted by the Mashed Potatoes, Biscuits, and cherry pie on the table. “Poor kid, you’re just skin and bones.” He begins to set his plate. “Come on now, dig in. A growing child like you needs your nutrition and what better nutrition than a home cooked meal?” He begins to eat.

One bite of the greens and you’re in heaven. They were seasoned and cooked to perfection. You completely devoured at least three plates and Ethan was glad to feed you. “It’s late you know,” his voice is calm and safe, “why don’t you stay here? It’s dangerous to leave at night.” You were about to object but you remembered just how unnerving the woods got in the winter. Reluctantly, you agree. Ethan looks more than glad. He smiles and gently holds your hand. “Where did you come from?” He asked. You explain how you came from the village and Ethan frowns. “That village? It’s dangerous over there. Mother Miranda isn’t the kind woman you think she is.” You didn’t understand what he was saying. Mother Miranda hasn’t done anything bad

…

Right?

Of course not. This old man was just out of it. Ethan sighs and gently lets go of your hand. “How about this? I’ll walk you back home to the village tomorrow. We can leave after breakfast. Sound good with you?” He asked as if you had a choice.

Later that evening, Ethan tucks you into bed. “There we go.” He whispers to himself, ruffling your hair. “If you need anything, you can cry out to me and I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Hearing this makes you feel warm. Your parents back at home never reassured you at times like this. Normally, they’d send you off to bed without a story or a kiss but this wasn’t the case. Ethan was better to you in his few hours of knowing you than your parents who knew you all your life. He looks down at you with his soft eyes, almost looking glum. “Goodnight, Rosema–” He cuts himself off. “Do you have a name or a nickname I can call you?” The name you choose to go by leaves your lips. “What a sweet name. I’m Lord Winters but I really just wish people would call me Ethan.” He chuckles and sighs. “Sleep well. I won’t let any monsters get you.” He stands up and turns off the lights, leaving the room for you to get some rest.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but fully look around your surroundings. While Mr. Winters’ home was inviting, why was it welcome for you to sleep in? You couldn’t think too hard before your eyes got heavy. The cold pillows and soft blankets kiss you goodnight as you drift off to bed.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day. You’ll see your mom and dad and they’ll welcome you with open arms.

#resident evil #rebhfun #ethan winters #resident evil au #re8 village #reader insert #my fic #Ethan winters x reader #platonic #re8 ethan winters

51 notes · View notes

justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Can I please request a romantic matchup for Mystery Incorporated, OUAT, and Star Wars? (sorry if that's a lot!)

I'm pretty average when it comes to things like height and weight, I have curly honey brown hair and brown eyes. I have so many freckles and I wear glasses cause I'm super blind.

My sense of style is all over the place when it comes to everything. My room is an eclectic mess of old car parts, huge bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books, antiques that I've collected, random paintings I've done, and I think the rest of my style is very similar. I find a way to make a cute outfit out of anything.

I'm asexual and biromantic. I love artsy things like cosplaying, crafting, and painting, and I love to sing and dance. I'm extroverted but still quite shy. I love music, recently I've been into kpop. I'm really sensitive when it comes to tv, I cry over every movie.

I am a very caring person, although I have a tendency to like being babied, as I am the youngest of my friends. I am also really clingy and I have a lot of love to give. One of my favorite ways to show love is acts of service, I love helping bandage people up if they are hurt, or cooking them a meal. I'm also big on pda and physical touch.

I think that's all I got! anyways thank you so much!!

Hi! Thank you for requesting a matchup, and don't worry, the amount is fine! :) I hope you enjoy! <333333

---

Mystery Incorporated;

Shaggy Rogers:

🥪 You met Shaggy when you called them for help, there was a ghost of some kind in your closet, now you didn't mean to make the like the Ghostbusters, but you had no idea who else to call; and you did not regret it after you saw him... Shaggy

🥪 You were a bit shy when you first spoke to him... And his dog... But you quickly warmed up to him, finding that he loves to eat and boogie down; you loved to dance too, so that's one thing you had in common!

🥪 After the ghost, who had actually been your grandmother pulling a prank, got caught, Shaggy asked you out and you said yes; Shaggy then got your number and later that weekend took you out to a nice fast food place and then you both went walking around a park before he heard an ice cream truck, (sadly though, his dog, Scooby, was being a third wheel)

🥪 Though, you both really liked each other, and it got to the point that Shaggy went on dates without Scooby, and you both had a really great time each time; and soon enough Fred, Velma, and Daphne were begging you both to stop kissing when you joined them for a ghost hunt

🥪 Shaggy thinks you're like totally awesome dude :) He's like totally in love with you too (He'd make you so many sandwiches)

---

OUAT;

Jefferson:

🎩 You met Jefferson when you were living in storybrooke, now he couldn't stay inside that mansion he lived in forever, so when he had to go out for food and literally ran into you, he was glad that he did; love at first sight?

🎩 Being the little devious boy he is, he apologises and insists that you come with him to him home where he could get you some tea; you decided, 'why the hell not' and went with him, feeling an odd sense of trust and peace with him

🎩 One thing led to another, and you moved in three months later, Jefferson was the sweetest gentleman, always making sure you are alright and feel loved; you absolutely adore him, half the reason why you began dating him, he's gorgeous, and you love to repay his kindness, love, and generosity with little acts of service

🎩 Somehow along in what seemed like a fairytale, you helped Jefferson get his daughter back, and he would be forever grateful for your help; you became a cute, little family - you loved cooking up food to go off into the woods and have picnics with them

🎩 Jefferson totally believes that it was love at first sight, and you feel the same, with every lingering glance, cuddles in large beds, and going out of sweet dates, you both were head over heels; you'd do anything for each other

---

Star Wars;

Han Solo:

🔫 You met Han when you went with your Uncle Ben and new friend Luke to make a deal with the man and his Wookie friend; you three needed to get out off the planet and your Uncle Ben made a deal with Han

🔫 You on the other-hand, should have been listening to the conversation, but all you could see was Han; oh boy, oh boy

🔫 Han was sort of thinking the same, well, he thought you were mighty attractive, he loved the way you smiled, and the way your eyes shimmered when something interesting peaked your interests

🔫 You didn't start dating/courting until after the end of Darth Vader, dancing about in celebration, Han took his moment to pull you into a shared dance where you then shared your first kiss under the many stars

🔫 Han can't get over you, and misses you when you're gone, even if you are in another part of the ship, like yourself, he always wants your touch, either holding your hand, your hand on his arm, sitting shoulder to shoulder... In short, he's whipped; you felt the same, needing him always near you, and you always found it endearing when you'd come back into the cockpit and turn Han's pout into a grin

---

#cute #fluff #slight angst #request #requests open #matchup #matchups #mystery incorporated #ouat #once upon a time #star wars #shaggy rogers #norville shaggy rogers #jefferson #han solo #shaggy rogers x reader #jefferson x reader #han solo x reader

48 notes · View notes

fosterwhat · 1 year

Text

7:45pm - it’s dark out, not quite pitch black, but probably would be if I didn’t live in a neighborhood with street lamps. Even with them, it’s dark. Our neighbor decided now would be the time to mow their lawn. Wearing a headlamp and pushing a gas guzzling mower that is spouting plumes of exhaust and will likely wake up the kids. I know they probably have to work, I respect that, I suppose this may be their only chance? But it’s frustrating, particularly because of the noise and air pollution. It’s making taking the dog outside irritating.

Other than that it’s a nice night, crisp and clear and the beginning of fall. Fall is my favorite season; I love apple picking, I love hayrides, I love sweatshirts, I love apple cider and warm blankets on cold nights. I love being cozy and cuddling in front of a fire with my kids to watch Halloweentown. Fall also has my favorite holiday: Halloween.

I hated Halloween as a college student. Drunken parties with forced ridiculous costumes. Not my scene at all. I love our Halloween now. Making it magical for my kids, trick or treating in the nearby (rich, let’s be honest) community where people on an entire street decorate their houses with huge displays complete with dry ice and animatronic spiders and even the people handing out candy are witches and vampires and maybe try to trick you just a little. The street we go to every year is closed to traffic (only on Halloween) and so the kids and adults roam in hoards of glowing costumes. Last year it rained and people still came out in droves, tossing ponchos over their costumes and carrying umbrellas decorated in bats. It’s ridiculous. It’s the best.

We also hit up the business district where we live. The shopkeepers (antiquated British word but I can’t think of another) that we see during the week come to the doors of their shops and hand out candy, complimenting the kids’ costumes. We see our barber, the coffee folks, the dentist (who hands out toothbrushes, of course). They normally dress up too, and a couple are really committed to decorating their stores. We walk through the business district for over a mile until we reach the local Y, where there’s a big free party, complete with bouncy houses and pizza. It’s chaotic. Bright lights compared to outdoors, pounding Halloween music, kids running wild, covered in paint and glue from the crafts, stuffing hastily decorated cobweb cupcakes in their mouths.

I don’t know how or why I got so lucky as to have kids who can do all that. Who somehow, despite the trauma and pain of the past, can regulate in the fun chaos of Halloween and just be kids. It’s a joy to watch, it’s the only night I let the kids stay up past bedtime. The only night they somehow manage to not meltdown and to have fun. Sure, sometimes feet get stomped or someone screeches because an animatronic spider touched their shoulder, but they love it.

I don’t think I’m doing it justice, the fact that for one night a year my kids get to be kids. I don’t know how I did it, but every year I counted and planned to ensure that post-visit behaviors wouldn’t impact Halloween. The years we lost to COVID and residential treatment still pain me. But regardless, every single year since my kids came home we have been together on Halloween, and it’s one of the few things that is ours as a family.

#foster care #this is adoption #foster care adoption #foster kids #adopted #felix #greta #halloween #early childhood trauma

32 notes · View notes

the-starry-seas · 2 months

Note

Whisper cozy in bed?

Also Kit.

And Kestrel.

Getting Whisper comfy in bed often takes what's legally referred to as an act of God. Or like a sixty-hour absence of sleep in an active war zone. Kind of the same thing really. (Things get very much worse after xe gets xeim arm chopped off. Oops?) But the Aces have been doing cuddle piles since they were cadets, and Whisper has four massiffs that keep guard for them (and Kag is trained for bite/protection work). It does not matter if xe's in a king's bed or on a slab of concrete. Put a squad and some massiffs in there, and xe's very comfortable.

Kit likes one (1) sheet and no blankets because he overheats easily. He also has a bajillion pillows because he's a cuddler and also they're soft. I think he makes his own for a fun craft project to keep his hands busy, and also because cool fabric! For more comfort items! He also has a few stuffed animals which are all canine-shaped. He has the dog equivalent of those four-foot-long stuffed tigers that used to be like, carnival game rewards? You know what I'm talking about?

Kestrel is such a weirdo and I adore it eternally for that. Raph has a big antique wooden desk in his room because like. You're not gonna find more sturdier furniture than that, and he's a big dude. This grand little idiot sleeps under the desk. It has a bed! It's been in cuddle piles and shared beds with its brothers and even slept on the couch in Donnie's lab! And it looks at those options and goes 'no thanks, floor under the desk for me'. Mikey does a craft project to attach a under-desk curtain, to make it even more of a hidey-hole. Kestrel wraps up in one of Raph's hoodies or blankets, and will sleep like it's in a coma for 3-16 hours.

#ct whisper #ct kit #hamato kestrel

2 notes · View notes

nenilein · 2 years

Text

Every single unlockable Character Profile in Puyo Puyo Fever 2 (Screenshots and Translations) -PART 4

Go here for Part 3

Lexicon of the Undead

Profiles of the undead of Primp Town. "Undead" are creatures that cannot unambiguously be called "alive". One must first prove themself as worthy to the subjects of this volume to be allowed to browse it.

Popoi Born February 22nd(Pisces)

Blood Type: N/A Special Skill: cat punch Favorite Thing: the Soaring Wand Weakness: mint

Professor Accord's stuffed cat. All students other than Amitie think she is making him talk via ventriloquism.

(Translator's Note: Cats hate mint. It's toxic to them.)

Akuma Born January 11th(Capricorn)

Blood Type: N/A Special Skill: collecting antiques Favorite Thing: old books Weakness: coffee

The demonic curator of Primp's gallery, who has been in this town for a very long time. When he gets agitated he starts yelling "KUMAKUMA".

(Translator's Note: Akuma's name means "demon" and that is also what he is called. HOWEVER, it is a very different word/type of demon than what is used for Sig's ancestor/the crimson soul, which is 魔物/"Mamono", which can also mean "monster".)

Dapper Bones Born December 24th(Capricorn)

Blood Type: Apparently used to be "B" Special Skill: Fashion Checks Favorite Thing: Trendy clothes Weakness: Bittersweet memories

A skeleton who opened up a store to fulfill the dreams of his long lost boyfriend. There he keeps waiting for his love to return.

Possessed Klug Born June 16th(Gemini)

Blood Type: A Special Skill: cleaning Favorite Thing: reading Weakness: the Tome of Sealing

A demon that has been sealed in a book. Because this isn't its true body, it can't quite perform to par right now.

Yu Born June 9th(Gemini)

Blood Type: AB Special Skill: dad jokes Favorite Thing: a great punchline Least Favorite Thing: exorcism tags

A happy ghost girl. Her way of speaking tends to prompt awkward laughter and cringing.

Rei Born June 9th(Gemini)

Blood Type: AB Special Skill: no-selling a joke Favorite Thing: ice Weakness: dogs

A quiet ghost boy. Yu often forgets about him and leaves him behind, giving him time to contemplate his afterlife on his own.

Back to the first post!

#Puyo Puyo #Puyo Pop #Puyo Pop Fever #Puyo Puyo Fever #Puyo Puyo Fever 2 #Puyo #Neni Translates #Translations #Puyo Lore

34 notes · View notes

wildbeautifuldamned · 8 months

Text

Vintage Stuffed Bear Antique Made in Japan dog steiff schuco hermann rare ebay chemugah

#dog #plaid #plush

6 notes · View notes

daisies-daydreams · 10 months

Note

Hi daisy as you said you do oc x canon i had been dying to find a blog like yours and here iam 😌 So I would love to request my oc Lilian I have a drawing of her on a papper but it wont look so good so I will still give a description on her by writing I hope I don't give too many detils but here she is !

I know it looks so ugly but yeah so she has stawberry pink hair and heterochromia one aqua blue eye and a lignt green eye. And fleckles She is from a skyisland that speaks a ancient language and workship a god she also has a tattoo on the rignt leg that represent the god like this

She personlity is very cute sweet/kind , naive, curious,shy loves helping people Lilian also loves giving hugs and kisses to her loved ones .But don't be fooled she can use magic her village uses magic like wayer magic telkniss magic too tho.She is pretty short she is 165cm(5,5 ft).But now to the request Lilian has just moved away from her home and family she arrives at town with her suitcase with her belongsing goes to a bar and orders a beer and some bread.But than the red hair pirates come in and sits down.She catchs shanks eyes because of her appearance and her clothes that she is wearing and he goes and sits down beside and starts to chat. By the she joins shanks crew and crew gets to know her and her bakround I hope you understand my request and no this not a love fic just friends.

⚠️But if this is too much detils decilne than.I hope I can request again some time.! Have a amazing day love❤💗!

The Found Voyager (OC!Lilian x Shanks - Platonic)

Pairing: OP!OC!Lilian x Shanks (Platonic) Category: Fluff Warnings: Swearing, Drinking Word Count: 4.2k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you very much for your request! I love the design for Lillian-she looks like a very sweet and headstrong person. I hope you enjoy the story!

Part 2

Lilian’s long, pink hair whipped in the sea breeze as she took her first step onto the rickety docks of Fairage. Her blue and green eyes sparkled as she heard the unfamiliar crunch of gravel underneath her foot. She ground the flat of her shoe against it, relishing in the fact that after all this time, she finally made it to the World Below. Lilian clutched her hand against her chest as she took a deep breath.

“Look for the shop with the silver fleur-de-lis,” she reminded herself. Her heart thumped as she took another step forward, her mind racing at the different sights and sounds around her. Children holding their mother’s hands, fishermen hollering about their fresh stock, a few dogs barking and rushing around wildly. Her eyes scanned the rows of shops and booths until they landed on a silver symbol.

"I found it!" she squealed internally. Lilian gasped when a man with messy, crimson hair bumped into her. He whipped around and rested his hand on his temple.

“My apologies, miss,” he said with an apologetic smile. Before Lilian could reply, he had already faded into the crowd. She closed her mouth and shrugged before turning to the large, wooden door. She smiled as she opened the squeaky door, a high-pitched ring echoing through the small shop.

"Be out in a second!" a croaky voice called past the rows and rows of stuffed shelves. Lilian parted her lips as she spun around, completely enraptured by the variety of knick-knacks, weapons and other bizarre items that lined the shelves. She gasped when she accidentally bumped into something rough and large. Lilian whipped around, her eyes widening when a massive, hulking man with a bandana over his head raised a brow and grunted.

"I-I'm very sorry, sir!" the young lady said as she held up her hands. A clatter rang out through the room as a curly-haired woman burst out from the back.

"I really need to clean this damn place," she sighed as she dusted off her sleeves. The older woman perked her head up when she noticed Lilian standing in front of the giant man...or more specifically, her large suitcase.

"Ah, welcome to Minerva's Menagerie! Anything Antiques and Pawn Shop ®, " she greeted while motioning towards the counter. Lilian gave the man a small smile before following Minerva. The older woman grunted as she clutched her cane and plopped herself down on a comfy stool. "So, what can I do for you today, dearie?" the shopkeeper asked.

Lilian smiled and heaved her large suitcase onto the counter. Minerva raised a brow as the young lady rummaged through the various items that was tossed around on her journey. She grinned as she triumphantly pulled out a dark, medium-sized bag. Minerva's eyes widened as Lilian pulled out several pieces of fine, sparkling jewelry. The older woman's face nearly lost all color when she saw a necklace adorned with the symbol of the Fairy Goddess.

"I know it's not a lot, but Kumo told me that it's worth a lot-"

She snapped her head towards the large man.

"The shop is closed for a private appointment!" she said as she shuffled towards him.

"What?" he huffed with furrowed brows. She shooed him out with her cane before whipping her head around. "Same goes for the two of you back there! And you better put back whatever you have in your pockets!" Minerva bellowed. Lilian pursed her lips as she heard some muttering followed by clanging.

"Carefully!" the shopkeeper screeched. Two similar, dark-haired looking men tumbled out, one wearing an eyepatch and the other a scar over his chin. They scowled at Lilian before making their way out of the shop. Minerva gave a firm nod as she locked the door behind her. The woman turned back to Lilian.

"Sorry about that," she said as she clasped her hands, her demeanor shifting in the blink of an eye. Lilian gave an uncomfortable expression.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked. Minerva cackled as she hobbled back to her stool.

"Not at all. It's just been a while since I've heard that old geezers name," she winked as she tapped her cane on the rug. Lilian's lips tightened.

"Well, he told me to come find you and give you these," she breathed as she pushed the jewelry forward. Minerva hummed and stroked her chin, her gaze shifting between the young woman.

"Tell me again...how do you know Kumo?" she asked. Lilian bit the inside of her cheek.

"Oh...friend of a friend?" she said in a high-pitched voice. Minerva pursed her lips.

"I see," she sighed before yanking down a magnifying apparatus from the ceiling. "Now, let’s see what we’ve got here,” the shopkeeper said as she pulled down a magnifying apparatus from the ceiling. The shopkeeper poked her tongue out as she took the delicate necklace into her wrinkled hands.

“Mhm, ah yes, I see,” she hummed. Minerva continued the process until she pulled the apparatus up with a high-pitched creak. She leaned forward on her palms. “I can give you five-hundred Berries for the brooches each…and five thousand for the Fairy Goddess Necklace,” she explained. Lilian’s jaw dropped.

“Five thousand?!" she yelped. Lilian slapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry-five thousand?!” she whispered loudly. Minerva nodded with a chuckle as she placed the items behind the desk and locked them in a cabinet.

“That’s right," she hummed. Lilian swallowed.

"O-Oh, well...I don't want to take that much from you," she replied sheepishly. Minerva waved her hand.

"Ah, nonsense. I'm sure you just arrived here from Fairygod Island, right?" she asked. Lilian nodded. Minerva clanked her cane against the ground. "Then I'm more than happy to assist a fellow Islander," she beamed. Lilian smiled as the shopkeeper gathered together her cash and handed it to her in a dark, leather bag.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Minerva," Lilian replied. A loud, gurgling sound suddenly rumbled between them. The young woman's eyes widened as she clutched her stomach. Minerva chuckled.

"If you're hungry, there's a nice pub right across the street," she suggested as she crossed her arms. Lilian hummed as she closed up her suitcase.

"Thank you for the recommendation," she smiled.

“Anytime,” Minerva said. "Hope to see you again soon," she beamed. Lilian returned her grin before hauling her suitcase out the door. Her heart leapt inside her chest as she stepped into the bustling street. The sun had dipped a little past the skyline of the city as she whistled an ancient tune to herself.

She froze when a group of children rushed past her, all of them giggling and carrying colorful pinwheels in their hands. Lilian giggled to herself before she glanced up.

“'The Salty Serpent'," she read as the sign above her gently swayed in the wind. "Sounds lovely!” she chirped as she opened the door. Lilian's eyes widened when a saucer flied towards her. She squeaked and ducked her head as it grazed over her pink loops. The young woman winced as she heard it crash against a brick wall behind her.

“Sorry about the mess! And by mess, I mean this lot,” a young, blue-haired woman called from inside as she gestured to all the men. They all turned their attention to the slender woman standing in the doorway with her suitcase in hand. Lilian gave a polite curtsy before walking inside, sending her bright smile all around the room. One could hear a pin drop, the crowd completely silent as Lilian strode over to an empty stool at the bar. The bartender raised her brow at the man at the piano.

"Well, what'd you stop for?!" she exasperated. The blonde man sat up straight before going back to playing a cheery tune. The pub slowly shuffled back to life as Lilian clasped her hands together. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” the bartender said as she dried out a glass mug. Lilian nodded as she set her suitcase at her feet.

“I just got here today,” she explained with a bright smile. The blue-haired woman hummed as she slung the rag over her shoulder.

“Well, welcome to Fairage, newcomer. Name’s Emilie,” she said as she held out her hand.

“Lilian,” she replied while shaking the other woman's hand. Lilian gasped and laid a hand over her belly as it rumbled.

“You hungry?” Emilie chuckled. Lilian nodded.

“Could I just have some bread and beer please?” she asked.

“That’s all?” Emilie asked with a raised brow. The pink-haired woman nodded again. “Alright then. One bread and beer coming up,” the bartender said before padding towards the rows of bottles. She quickly returned with Lilian’s food.

“Thank you,” she said with a polite smile.

“Sure thing. If ya need anything else, just let me know,” she said. Lilian watched as Emilie busied herself with arranging some glasses. The pink-haired woman brought the mug up to her lips. She furrowed her brows as the bubbly drink washed over her taste buds. Lilian cringed a little at the acidic taste before setting the glass down.

“It’s not for everyone,” Emilie said. The young woman nodded as she took the bread into her hands. She brought it up to her lips and nibbled on it, squishing her fingers together. She happily ate her small snack as the front door suddenly swung open. Lilian jumped in her chair while Emilie rested her hands on her hips.

“Well, well-didn’t think I’d see you around here anytime soon, Shanks,” she lilted. Lilian turned to see a group of men file into the tavern. They were all different heights and sizes, each one more unique than the last. She completely forgot she was still nibbling on her bread until a familiar-looking man slid into the chair next to her. He flashed her a smile.

“Do you always eat like a hamster?” Shanks chuckled. His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as Lilian tilted her head towards him.

"Hey...you're that woman I ran into earlier," he muttered.

“What’s a hamster?” she disregarded his statement. His jaw dropped as he chortled and slapped his thigh. His smile instantly fell when he saw her serious expression.

“Wait-you’re not joking?” he asked. Lilian shook her head.

“Sorry, I’m from…out of town,” she said while shifting her eyes back and forth. Shanks hummed as he rested his cheek on his palm.

“Really? Where’re you from then?” he asked with genuine intrigue. Lilian nearly choked on her tiny bite. She coughed a few times and cleared her throat.

“Fairygod Island. It's in the sky,” she said with a nervous smile. Shanks blinked before he burst into laughter along with the rest of his crew.

“I like this one! She has a great sense of humor!” he boomed. Lilian couldn’t help but giggle at his exuberant personality. “Emilie, please get our new friend here some beef stew. On me,” the red-haired man smiled. Lilian’s cheeks flushed.

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” Lilian said shyly. Shanks waved his hand.

“It’s no problem at all. Besides, I owe you after bumping into you earlier,” he beamed. Lilian bit the inside of her cheek as she folded her hands in her lap. “Oh and a beer for me as well,” Shanks added.

“I’ll add that to your tab that you’re definitely paying off this time...right?” Emilie asked. Shanks remained stiff as a board. “Right?” the bartender repeated.

“Sure,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You really suck at lying,” Emilie sighed as she shook her head. Shanks chuckled and let his hand fall back to his side.

“I know,” he replied. Emilie narrowed her eyes before she clicked her tongue.

“I’ll be back with the soup,” she said as she pointed her finger at the pirate. He held his hands up in surrender as she shuffled to the kitchen. She soon returned with a piping hot bowl of beef stew and a large mug of beer. Lilian’s eyes sparkled when she saw the hearty meal in front of her.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. Shanks nodded before taking a swig of beer.

“Just Shanks is fine,” he replied. Lilian smiled sheepishly and nodded. She brought the bread up to her lips before gently nibbling on the end, her hands pressed together. The young woman smiled happily and wiggled in her seat as the savory flavor of the soup mellowed inside her mouth. She noticed Shanks staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked with genuine concern. Shanks glanced away before taking a big sip.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?” she asked. Shanks stroked his chin.

“About why a refined young lady such as yourself is wandering around a town like Fairage,” the pirate answered. Lilian squeezed the spoon in her hand.

“Well…it’s a bit of a long story,” the young woman replied as she stirred her meal.

“Good thing I have time to kill, then,” he grinned. Lilian sighed.

“I wanted just to live a normal life. A life away from the pala-from my parents' expectations,” Lilian quickly corrected herself. Shanks adjusted in his seat.

“So, you’re a runaway?” he asked. Lilian nodded, her blue and green eyes growing a bit glossy. The man beside her straightened as she sniffed and wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to get this emotional,” she laughed quietly. Shank’s brows furrowed. Lilian tilted her head up when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said softly. Lilian’s heart skipped a beat as she smiled.

“I just…I thought it’d be so easy to leave since I wanted it for so long…but I still miss a lot of people I left behind,” she sighed. Shanks nodded as he patted her shoulder.

“Of course,” he said with a sympathetic smile. Lilian mirrored his expression before she heard the sound of Emilie sighing.

“Man, why can’t I ever keep these things alive?” she frowned as she brushed her fingers over a wilting flower. Lilian tilted her head before looking around. She flicked her free hand beneath the bar. A green glow emitted from her slender fingertips as well as the rose tattoo on her leg. Emilie gasped as the flower straightened out, its original vibrant crimson returning to its petals.

“Oh my goodness!” she yelped and nearly dropped the vase. Everyone turned to look in her direction.

“Now how did that happen?” Shanks wondered aloud as he scratched his head. Lilian shrugged.

“Who knows?” she laughed nervously. The red-haired pirate glanced her way with a pensive expression. He bit the inside of his cheek as everyone gathered around to see the miraculous flower. The Chief shifted in his seat to face her.

“I’m afraid I never got your name,” he said.

“Oh! It’s Lilian,” the young woman smiled and held out her hand. Shanks grinned as he shook her delicate hand, his calloused palm rubbing over hers.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lilian,” he grinned before lowering his hand to his side. He paused for a moment. “Sorry if I come across as rude, but you have no place to stay as of now, right?” Shanks asked. She nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” she replied sheepishly. Shanks hummed as he rubbed his chin.

“Well…what do you think of joining my crew?” he asked. Her eyes widened as time seemed to stand still. “Forgive my bluntness-it’s just…I’d hate it if you were wandering the streets with no one looking out for you,” Shanks explained. Lilian nodded as her heart swelled.

“T-Thank you,” she blushed. Shanks hummed as he scratched his stubbly jaw. He suddenly gained a serious expression.

“Lilian, I’ll be honest with you. Being a part of my crew will not be easy-in fact, it’ll be downright dangerous,” he began. Lilian leaned a bit closer, intrigue pulling her in like a lasso. “There are other pirates, Marines, and all sorts of other groups who want nothing more than our heads,” Shanks stated. She gasped.

“You’re a criminal?” Lilian murmured behind her hands. The pirate chuckled.

“Depends on who you ask,” he said. Lilian pursed her lips before Shanks cleared his throat. “Anyway, it certainly won’t be the “normal” life you were speaking of earlier, but I can tell you this: you’ll never be bored, you’ll get to see incredible sights, and you’ll have even more incredible people to lean on,” he beamed. Lilian smiled as he shifted in his chair a bit more and gazed straight into her heterochromatic eyes.

“So…what do you say?” Shanks asked with an excited grin. The young woman thought to herself for a moment and closed her eyes. She prayed to the Fairy Goddess for guidance before opening them again.

“I’ll go,” she beamed. Shanks’ smile grew even wider as he slapped his thigh.

“Fantastic! Emilie! Let’s have another round to celebrate our newest crew member: Lilian!” he called. The Red-Haired Pirates stared at the pink-haired woman in shock before they came rushing up to her.

“Are you really joining our crew?” a larger man with glasses and a striped cap asked. Lilian nodded.

“Yes sir!” she beamed. The group of men cheered. Her smile grew all the more wider as she looked over the room, her heart feeling lighter than air as she took in the sight of her new friends celebrating. She peeked over at Shanks before leaning over and pressing her lips to his stubbly cheek. He immediately tensed as his face flushed a deep red.

“Thank you,” Lilian smiled as she took his hand into hers. Shanks swallowed thickly.

“Oi Shanks! Your face is looking just as red as your hair!” a man with caramel-colored dreads pointed and laughed. Shanks clenched his jaw.

“Why is your face so red?” Lilian asked. The pirate turned back to her and coughed into his hand.

“Well, it’s just been a while since I’ve been kissed on the cheek by a pretty woman like yourself,” he explained. The tips of Lilian’s ears burned.

“Oh my goodness! I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” she flushed. Shanks tilted his head as Lilian bit her lip. “You see, where I’m from, a kiss on the cheek is how we greet friends, and holding hands is how we show that our friendship is an everlasting bond,” the young woman explained. His face slowly returned back to its normal color as he sighed.

“Understood,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his beer. The crew came up to Lilian and asked her all sorts of questions (many of which she dodged with answers provided to her by Kumo). Eventually, the rowdiness died down as they all had their share of beer. Emilie held her hand out.

“The tab,” she said with raised brows. Shanks grumbled as he pulled out a few bills and handed it over. Emilie gave a firm nod as she counted the money. The red-haired man nudged Lilian’s elbow and leaned over.

“I’d be happy to show you around your new home and help you get settled in,” he whispered. Lilian beamed as she took his hand into hers, drawing another blush from his cheeks.

“I’d love that,” she replied with a sweet smile.

+++

There was more drinking when the crew returned to the Red Force...a lot more drinking. The crewmembers sang songs and stumbled around the decks as Lilian watched with another mug in hand. Shanks wandered over to her and took a swig of sake. He sniffed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"You want to try?" he asked. She vigorously shook her head. "Suit yourself," the Chief shrugged before taking another sip. He hummed as she rubbed her hands together. "Something wrong?" he asked. Lilian glanced over and bit her lip.

"Could we find a place that's a bit more private? I...I need to tell you something," she said with a shaky breath. Shanks blinked before setting his sake down.

"Sure. Follow me," he replied. He led her past the rowdy men towards his quarters. Lilian's heart thrummed in her ears as she stepped inside, the room dimly lit with candles.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" Shanks asked with a casual smile as he folded his arms. Lilian took a deep breath.

"You know how I said that I was from an island in the sky?" she asked. Shanks nodded.

"Yep," he replied. The woman sighed as she played with the red-beaded bracelet on her wrist.

"Well...what if I told you I wasn't joking?" Lilian asked. There was a short pause.

"I'm sorry...what?" the Chief asked as he lowered his arms to his sides. Lilian curled and uncurled her fists before standing up straight.

"It's true. I just arrived her today on my hippogriff," she said as she squeezed her eyes shut. Shanks blinked.

"Oooookay..." he said incredulously. Lilian sighed.

"Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth!" she said as her shoulder slumped. "Kumo told me people would think I'm crazy if I told them," she groaned.

"Who's Kumo?" Shanks asked. Lilian turned around.

"He's my bu-best friend," she said. The Chief hummed and crossed his arms.

"I see-and I don't think you sound crazy. I've always known the Sky Islands as only myths," the man explained.

"Oh," Lilian said as she glanced down at her feet. There was short pause between the two.

"Anything else I need to know about you?" he quickly changed the subject at the sign of her uncomfortable expression. Lilian hummed.

"Well...I do have some magical skills," she said in a muffled voice. Shanks leaned closer.

"What was that?" he asked. Lilian sucked in a sharp breath.

"I-I can do some magic," she said a bit louder. The red-haired man's eyes widened.

"You mean...at the Serpent today, when Emilie's plant grew back...that was you?" he asked. Lilian flushed and nodded.

"Yes! I can also perform water magic," she explained with a bright smile. Shanks raised a brow.

"Prove it," he said. Lilian blinked.

"What?" she asked. Shanks walked over to his desk and pulled out a glass flask. He set it down on his desk with a heavy clank.

"Push the cap off of this flask with your magic," he said. Lilian glanced back and forth between him and the flask before gulping.

"O-Okay. You might want to stand back though," she said. Shanks did as she said before she planted both of her feet firmly on the floor. She narrowed her eyes as she held her hand out. Her rose tattoo began to glow a light blue in tandem with her fingertips as she maintained her eye contact on the glass flask. The object shook violently before suddenly exploding. Lilian gasped as the glass shards tumbled throughout the room.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!" she yelled. Shanks looked down at the mess at his feet, a few pieces of glass merely sticking to the outside of his clothes. He chuckled.

"Miss Lilian, you are full of surprises," the Chief grinned as he dusted himself off. Lilian blushed and smiled before helping him clean up the mess. She frowned when she saw a red mark across his hand.

"Your hand," she muttered. Shanks looked down and laughed.

"That's nothing, trust me," he said as he rummaged through his drawers and pulled out a small box. The Chief pulled out some bandages with his single hand.

"Here, let me," Lilian urged as she rested her hand over his. Shanks looked into her eyes and smiled softly.

"If you insist," he grinned as she sank into his chair. She pulled out the small pieces of glass before disinfecting the wound. "That tattoo on your leg...does it always glow when you use your magic?" Shanks asked. Lilian looked down at her right leg and nodded.

"Yes-it's from a pact our family made with the ancient Fairy Goddess," she elaborated. The Chief hummed as she wrapped a bandage around his hand. "She watches over all aspects of nature, whether it be the soil of the World Below or the water in the clouds," Lilian continued.

"The World Below?" Shanks asked. She paused.

"Yes...that is what this plane is called, right?" Lilian asked. Shanks chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, we call it 'Earth' down here," he said with a cheeky grin. Her cheeks burned as she closed the lid of the kit.

"Oh, I see," she said as embarrassment flooded through her.

"Hey, you didn't know. Unless you're trying to give your new Chief a hard time," he winked. She held up her hands.

"Of course not!" she squeaked. Shanks laughed.

"I'm just messing with you," he jested. Lilian gave a small laugh before yawning.

"Well, I'm feeling rather exhausted, so I think I'll turn in for the night," Lilian said. Shanks grunted.

"Sure thing," he replied. Lilian gave a small curtsy before taking a few steps. Her eyes widened when the Chief grasped her hand. She slowly turned to see his warm smile.

"I never properly told you...Welcome to the Red-Haired Pirates," he beamed. Lilian smiled as he squeezed her hand.

"Thank you for letting me join your crew, Chief Shanks," she said.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

A/N/N: Stay tuned for Part 2!

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @tayleighuh @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthadusk @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark

Want to be a part of my taglist? Comment down below!

#one piece #op anime #op manga #one piece anime #one piece manga #shanks #shanks one piece #one piece oc #red haired shanks #one piece fanfiction #op oc #one piece fluff #one piece angst #shanks x female oc #shanks x oc

8 notes · View notes