Thank You For Reading - Tumblr Posts

Hello everybody as I said before in my last post I am going to make a individual Nobunaga post so I hope all of my Nobunaga fans are happy now and I’m sorry that I could not include him in my last post I just couldn’t think of a possible scenario for him and I don’t have a lot of time as I have to meet up with friends soon!

This post will be about Nobunaga and his daughter going trick or treating together I hope everybody enjoys the story

Full credit to la-squadra1234

Nobunaga would definitely dress up in whatever costume his daughter makes him wear no matter what it is whether it’s a dress a suit anything he will do it no matter what he will and has to impress his daughter

He will make sure nobody and when I mean nobody I mean nobody will steal his daughters candy it’s not happening not on his watch

He’s not going to do anything crazy considering that his daughter is with him and he does not want to scare his daughter

When he looks through his daughters candy and sees that something has a needle in it or something smells like cinnamon he will track whichever house it came from somehow someway don’t question that he just knows and he will torture that person to death he was just imagining what would happen if he did not check his daughter’s candy and his daughter ate that candy

He would be a pretty cool Dad and a fun dad to go trick or treating with!!

That’s the end of the scenario everybody I hope this made up for me not adding him in my last post again I am super sorry and I hope everybody can forgive me!!!

I hope everybody who is reading this post enjoyed the post and if you have any suggestions or any questions you can leave it in the comments or DM me whatever makes you feel more comfortable

Anyways byeeee



Can I request Kaku x fem water 7 civilian reader please?

Flying Man

Kaku x fem!reader

In which you’re a normal civilian that works at a cute cafe who’s totally in love with a marvelous shipwright.

Takes place in water 7. Fluff, Kaku is wonderful. Added some extras.

“Everyone look outside! Kaku is at it again!” Some random customer yelled inside the cafe you worked at.

Everyone including yourself ran outside to get a good look at the “Flying Man” as everyone called him. All of the people in the cafe and people passing by were in awe at the sight of this marvelous man soaring through the sky as if he had wings. However, the show didn’t last long as he descended from the sky and landed right in front of the little cafe. Kaku stood in front of you giving you and the people around him a cute closed eye smile. You froze slightly as you had only ever seen him from afar. But now he was here in the flesh right in front of you and it was almost too much for your poor heart to bear.

“Hey there everyone! Just came by for some lunch!” He exclaimed still smiling as he begin walking into your cafe. “Oh it appears to be empty.” Kaku joked looking at the menu posted on the wall.

“Sorry sir.” You said quickly making your way behind the cash register.

“Ahh, there we are! Say are you new here?” Kaku asked and you blushed at the acknowledgment.

“Yes, I am just started last week. What can I help you with sir.” You asked him

“Ah well..” he trailed off. “I’ll take the grilled ham and cheese sandwich with a cup of black coffee.” He cheerfully spoke looking in your eyes with a smile. “And what’s your name, pretty lady. ” He added

“Oh, my name is y/n, nice to meet you.”you told him feeling slightly nervous to finally be talking to him. Certainly, that’ll be $5.67.” Would you like it for here or to go Kaku?”You asked adding his name.

“Alrighty, and to go please. I’ve got a lot of ships that need repairs today. ” He said paying for his meal.

“It’ll be out in just a sec, please feel free to wait anywhere in the café.” You told him giving him your sweetest smile.

“Thanks! Also, forgive me if this is too straight forward, but I believe you have the prettiest smile in all of water 7.” Kaku complimented giving you a wide smile. Without hearing your response, he turned around and sat himself at a booth near the register.

“Thanks.” You muttered slightly dumbfounded by his sudden compliment.

After a few moments, his order was ready. You took it upon yourself to bag is You walked out and handed him his order as he took it cheerfully.

“Well thank you!” Kaku spoke taking his order. As you face it to him your fingertips touched his. A warm feeling erupted in your chest as your cheeks felt warm. He looked in your eyes and you weren’t sure what it was, but they made you feel so comfortable.

“You’re welcome sir.-Kaku” You muttered. “Please come back anytime.” You added speaking a bit more clearly.

“I think I will, I’ve been here a few time now, but I think I’ll start coming more often now that they have a cute server working here.” Kaku declared giving you a wink.

“Oh, well…thank you.” You blushed feeling excited at the thought of him coming back to the cafe.

For the next couple of weeks Kaku took it upon himself to come to the cafe every day. And everyday since he’s order the same meal. And give you large tip every time. You’ve gotten so use to seeing him that as soon as the clock turned 12, you took it upon yourself to start making his order personally. So, today when he didn’t show up you were confused. His order was ready in the back that had now gotten cold. The clock kept ticking away and you got on with your day by serving other customers. You felt worried for him, so worried in fact that you messed up an order. Thankfully, the customer was kind and could tell that something was up with you. As the day ticked on and turned into night, you decided that it was best to go home considering it was closing time. You left the cafe after locking up and began walking home. You were distressed by the absence of your crush as weren’t paying attention to where you were really walking. You were staring at you felt letting your body move on autopilot when suddenly, you bumped into a large figure.

“Oh shit.” You whined as you fell to the ground.

“Jeeze are you alright y/n?” A familiar voice called out

“Kaku?” You spoke out excitedly with a large grin on your face.

“Yeah, hey there. Let’s get you up.” Kaku greeted helping you as you tools his hands.

“Thank you.” You said still holding on to him.

“You’re quite welcome.” He winked holding squeezing you hand.

The two of you looked at each others eyes for what felt like an eternity before he coughed letting dropping your hands. You let out a sigh, already missing the warmth that his hands gave you.

“Kaku.” You said as he hummed in response. “I’m sorry if this sounds weird, but where were you today?” You asked sheepishly as you hugged yourself finding it slightly difficult to look him in his beautiful eyes. He chucked at your shyness as he grabbed your hands from your body and held them close to him.

“I’m sorry about that. The docs today were extremely hectic. Trust me all I could think about was you today.” He explained pulling you closer.

“You thought about me?” You asked slightly confused.

“Of course I did!” Kaku said like it was obvious.

“W-why?” You asked still not understanding.

“Oh y/n. I guess I should’ve made my intentions clearer.” Kaku told you rubbing your hands with his thumbs. “I like you precious, I really do.” Kaku affirmed. You were stunned but relieved that he felt the same way.

“I like you too, Kaku.” You whispered taking your hands from his and wrapping yourself in is arms. You could tell he was slightly shocked by your confidence but quickly put his arms around you and held you tightly against him. The two of you remained like this for a while feeling each others warmth and comfort. To you it all felt unreal and truly special. To Kaku this was all he truly felt he needed but knew that if the government found out it could potentially mean hell for him. But he didn’t care these past few weeks seeing you and even before that as he watched you from afar, made him feel more alive than anything else. He needed you and he hoped you’d give him the chance to prove that. Soon enough he felt it was important to finally ask the question he’s been dying to. So, he pulled away slightly to allow himself to look at your face as he held onto your body.

“What is it?” You questioned giving him a small smile.

“How would you like to go on a date with me?” Kaku finally asked

“Absolutely I will!” You exclaimed pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

“Haha, I’m so glad.” Kaku replied feeling excited but also worried for the future ahead with the woman that he adores.

Thank you so much for reading💜 And many thanks to the person who requested this fic!!

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, follow, comment, request, and reblog.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

Hey love,

Can I be in your permanent taglist? Like for all your On going and upcoming fanfictions? Please...👉👈

✨💜✨

Hello Love!

Yes! this is a first for me but I'd love to notify you every time I drop new fanfics or update an ongoing one ;) I'm glad, thank you for asking! 🥰

blackout | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: swearing, he’s just a bit of a fuckboy, bickering, swooning over/thirsting for jk (🤷‍♀️), a manually induced fake blackout? dunno those 2 are odd k, they play uno, a lot of spending time in the darkness, kook has no chill, teasing, consent, dirty talk, fingering, cmnf for a while, sexual tension, oral (both receiving), shower sex, choking, hair pulling, reader cries a bit, jk likes to praise, dry humping?, pussy and tits slapping rip (and some ass ig), making out🙄, manhandling, jk loves her tits and ass and plays with them (a lot), he’s sweet but cocky too, protected sex, dom + big dick kook

⇥ wc: 14.3k

⇥ author’snotes: this is a repost from my old blog!! i may repent for my sins. also i do not know why this is so long, i thought it would be 10k rip please i apologize. anyways, i really hope you like it!! i’m very stoked to find out what you think😶‍🌫️

⇥ summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

–

The hardness of the bench is tiring out your ass.

Keep reading

there's something so specific that he apologized for with his last "i'm sorry", i was lowkey surprised no one found out!!😭 so your question is valid!!😭

blackout (pt2) | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate/best friend!jungkook x reader

⇥genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: suddenly there’s angst?, lovesick for your BFF🤒, yearning pining longing all of it, swearing, jealousy, sexual content, like riding, kook with his Big Dick, protected sex, emotions.., spanks, clit slapping, tattoo obsession, a lot of kissing and calling her (his) pretty (girl) :(, dom jk, dorky jokes, ass n tiddie love<3, bit of biting, oral (f. rec.), so much care n attention :(, grinding, teasing, riding, impatient koo being roughhh, did i say kissing🥺, degradation (just once or twice), cum swallowing…; the ending…

⇥ wc: 16.4k

⇥ author’s notes: i don’t even know what to say except i am sorry :) :) this broke me a bit tho, and i already cannot wait for the next update</3 alllsoo, if you haven’t read blackout pt1 yet, i’d strongly advise to do so in order to understand pt2!

⇥ summary: You really didn’t think that the promise of letting your tension out on each other tonight would backfire like this.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

Not yet.

Keep reading

thank you sm 🥺❤️ i appreciate your read and comment so much!

sanguine | din djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, angst, yodito’s name spoiler, face reveal, sexual references but aren’t toooo explicit

a/n: this is part two for maroon. 

i made up a planet because i couldn’t find a planet that wouldn’t be obvious to hiding Mandalorians, ya know? I’ve never written smut before and as much as I wanted to include it, I’d just ruin it BUT I’m learning lol. also, happy new year to everyone! I hope this year brings you joy, health, and happiness. please enjoy and let me know what you think!

masterlist

No matter how long it has been, you are always thrown back to the day you lost everything. Your necklace is a constant reminder of the death of you. No matter if you’re at the market buying the supplies you’re running dangerously low on or if you’re in the midst of stitching up a laceration - your hand always finds its way around the symbol of pain.

Keep reading

a walk to remember is one of my favorite romance films omg i love how you portrayed and wrote it in ur own unique way,, i knew what would happen and what to expect but godammit i still cried😭 thank you for sharing this beautiful piece of writing to us !!♡

AHHH IM SO GLAD U LIKED IT!! omg stawp writing the ending was so hard i was literally bawling 😭. i loved this plot so damn much im glad u liked it again 😓. a walk to remember will always have a special place in my heart

hello! choose a beautiful person with a book and receive a quote from Maya Angelou 💐💌

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

hope you enjoy and have a good time today 💞

Pile 1) My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.

Pile 2) Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it.

Pile 3) When we find someone who is brave, fun, intelligent, and loving, we have to thank the universe.

What are you improving at, right now? A love message from your Higher Self 💌

[ID: pile 1: a pot/bowl of lavender petals. pile 2: three cute mugs. pile 3: flowers, in shades of pink and white, scientifically called digitalis/digitalis purpurea. pile 4: a table with teapots and mugs, various objects on the table with a pink tablecloth. End of ID.]

pile 1 > pile 2

pile 3 > pile 4

pile 1: empress, new beginnings.

hi dear pile one, pile of the lavender. 💞 it seems here that you have been working on your personal energy, this is very good. especially working your feminine side, it seems; considered to be the part of receiving blessings (the feminine). you are very close to allowing yourself or you are allowing yourself to do the things you want, achieving the necessary changes in a beautiful metamorphosis. channeled phrase: thank you for your energy. 💞

pile 2: high priestess.

hi high priestess pile, welcome to your reading. I didn't draw any more cards because it seems that your message is pretty straightforward. 💞 you are getting better in your spirituality. maybe you are learning about new habits, healthier for you, also recognizing your intuition, your surroundings. thank you, high priestess pile, that's so cool of u and nice. 💞 channeled message: cause dance is who i am. shining just as bright as a star.

pile 3: the star, hierophant, page of swords rx.

you are allowing yourself or are very close to allowing yourself to feel hope again. 💞 you're seeing or will see something that's not good for you, but that's positive, because that means you don't want to accept what's bad for you anymore, right? look, it seems like freedom, pile of the flowers. you are allowing yourself to do things calmly, or as you wish, that is positive too. oh, pile 3, I only wish you all the best. 💞 channeled song: Who Says - Selena Gomez and The Scene. channeled message: celebrate, celebrate from your small victories. dance your dances.

pile 4: king of wands reversed, the tower.

pile 4, you are overcoming. 💞 pile 4, you're really turning something around. what else to say? 💞 thank you for that, your victory is our victory too. <3 channeled messages: if you want, I'll give you a hug. you grew up so well. give yourself more credit for the good stuff. beloved, beloved. "oh, want the good and the bad and everything in between" from the song 10000 Hours.

peace and love,

pinksobg

Message from fire stars

[ID: pile 1: a flower field, like autumn. pile 2: the picture of a woman's shadow; we can see the light of the sun in this picture, tones of orange and red. pile 3: a detail of a paiting; someone ready to put a crown on someone's head. pile 4: an indoor place, but with flowers like spring and there is light. End of Image Description.]

Specially or mostly for when you are feeling sad or angry. 💌 (everybody who feels like reading can read, ofc, thank you so much)

pile 1 > pile 2

pile 3 > pile 4

for reflexion purposes only. 💞 ready? let's go!

Pile 1) Innocence (more like a name), palete, spouse, mars, color

"how angry it makes me see you suffer in the streets, Innocence. how terrified it gives me to see you hide the palettes in your beautiful gaze. what horror, it makes me startle, when you try to lower yourself. when on Mars I asked for myself, the best color for existing, I didn't know this color would be so sad without you."

Pile 2) awake, pain, in orbit, sister, crown

"when you wake up and roll over in pain, the orbit of all the stars exudes a colorless glow. like the clothes of the sisters in the crowns, living without you hurts. without your hands on your proper crown. living without peace hurts. forgetting who you are is a dread. living this way can hurt, if you always doubt your worth."

Pile 3) evergarden (more like a name or nickname), bees, together, shadow, tank

"evergarden, when it seems that all around you there is a swarm of bees, buzzing and buzzing, stinging and hurting; know that we are in this together, not against each other. we are in this together, not against each other. what shines also has its shadow, it is right? leave your sorrows in a distant tank; feel, but don't suffer like that."

Pile 4) stars, two, uniform, planets, present

"look up the stars. it takes two for me to live a life like yours. don't worry because all the planets will arrange themselves in your favor okay? you'll get a good gift from the universe soon. stay strong, I love you. read again, if you feel like it."

extra message for pile 4: 외로움 멈춰라 마수리 수리. ♡︎

peace and love,

pinksobg ©

Messages that need to be delivered 🌷'

Pile 1) 5 of cups, The Moon

hello pile one 💞 welcome your reading. after difficult times you are finding yourself again.

"do you have healing energy? I seem to want to vent to you so here it goes: it's been a long journey, I get tired easily, I'm like the little prince. I came from a light feather, I promise I won't get in your way. I like tea, I like to talk, but right now I just want a place to relax. Could that place be you?" — "the know unknown" masculine energy, soft, fast, blond hair, "could be a mirage", traveler, soul family, calm, seems to talk fast/ with ease, serene passage, cure of headaches, relief, serene, water.

Pile 2) reversed knight of cups, Queen of Cups.

TW: deep, long reading. take only what/if resonate and make sense with your reality now for your wellbeing please. ♡︎

hello pile two 💞 sounds like you're not doing things your way, sounds like you might be wanting too much to fit a certain pattern. I will ask more experienced readers for help. seems like a very serious matter so I want to be careful with my words. Have you been experiencing symptoms similar to imposter syndrome? pile two, looks hard... be careful with your health (not for you to be scared, but to take care of you); it seems like some of your actions aren't being healthy for you, maybe you've been doing things that could be making you feel sick: like frequently doing something you don't like (seems to be about work but I'm not sure), sustaining an addiction (like abusive consumption of something) and/or hiding yourself or what you really want. I wish only the best for you. from now on, take the proper lead. believe. take care little by little and the magic will happen. invest in treating yourself better, little by little. you will clearly become who you want to be. take care of your health, be patient and hope/wish/manifest/make peace on your way. 💞

Pile 3) Strength, Hermit rx.

hello pile three 💞 you seem like the easiest energy to work with in my humble and flawed perception (may be, may not be the easiest). here comes the need for you to speak for yourself, have frank conversations, listen to learn about the other and not merely to respond.

♡︎ moodboard for you:

peace and love,

pinksobg.

A few things about Cyril Rose, Chevalier Michel and Lucian

I was always curious about Chevalier's behavior towards Cyril, especially after Lucian was introduced as the covert and the royal guard later on for Chevalier. The question in my mind was, if Chevalier really trust Cyril to become the lead knight of the foreign affairs faction, then would he ever call him by his name? The post is based on Chevalier's election promise party event

Spoilers and facts about Cyril (and a few about Lucian) under the cut!

After obtaining Chevalier's Early Clear Bonus from this party event (promise from 2nd anniversary/election):

The story was in his POV and fully voiced (meaning that his thoughts and dialog were voiced, except for a few lines of narration).

But from this story, we are able to see a few sides of Chevalier that we never saw before, nor did we hear him talk about. Including Cyril Rose.

The story starts with him training with the knights, before "killing them" as he said after knocking them out. And it ends with Cyril being the only one standing. From the Mc's POV, Cyril could keep up really well, but Chevalier kicked his sword. In Chevalier's POV, Cyril actually got distracted, else the battle would have continued.

This whole training thing was never something that Chevalier would have done, but he feels the need to show off in front of Emma.

Back to the topic, while training and inwardly praising all the knights, who were able to keep up so much longer against him, Chevalier thought of Cyril.

And while thinking of him as Clavis' knight, he also acknowledges his name!! The same way Lucian's name is acknowledged, meaning that it's written right on top of his job in the castle:

Translation:

Chevalier's thoughts: 'Usually, I leave the management of the knight's to Clavis and the red head (Cyril),'

So he does, indeed, acknowledge him with his name. Conclusion: Chevalier loves to "make fun" of others with these nicknames (more like he points out what describes them XD). Lucian is also called the long black haired royal guard (Since Chevalier is the king, Lucian is the royal guard).

A few things for Cyril:

In the party event story (previous discussion), it shows how much more familiar the knights are with Chevalier and how much more they are scared of Cyril (as their master in training). Chevalier told them to run 100 laps around the castle, making the knights complain about it (with no fear towards him). Translation of the moment:

Knights:"Hyahhhhhh.....100 laps!?"

Chevalier:"Even if I'm showing the losers mercy?"

Cyril:"Thank you for your mercy! Everyone, keep your mouth shut!"

When Cyril told them to shut their mouth, they all stopped complaining and run out to train

Before that, Chevalier admitted to Cyril that out of all of the knights, he would be the only one standing at the battlefield. And not only that, but he told him to make sure to withdraw if something goes wrong and return to the castle before he dies. He also said that he should help and save as many of those around him, leaving Cyril at a loss but he was quick to agree with Chevalier.

Thank you for reading this far! This event was truly enjoyable and definitely worth to get the ECB. A small flashback of Chevalier and Clavis is also in there, but in Chevalier's thoughts.

Chevalier was drawing Benitoite in huge detail and Emma was watching in amazement, before she complimented him. Chevalier thought that he never payed attention to drawing before, but he once tried it, because Clavis made him draw to find a weakness, but Chevalier knew how, so Clavis threw a tantrum when he saw the finished project.

And of course, after he finished drawing Benitoite, he drew Jade and gave attention to the huge greenhouse, because it looked like it came out of a fairy-tale, so he knew Emma would love this the most.

Although he finished with the drawings, gave them to Emma after she asked to keep them, knowing that all he was doing was useless and had nothing to do with their lessons, he still asked her to draw something for him.

(Keep in mind that Sariel doesn't give Emma lessons as much anymore, it's mostly Chevalier when he is off of work).

Emma drew roses, books (Chevalier's thoughts were that this was a rose garden with her favourite things), and in the end, she added added tiger! And Chevalier took the quill pen from her hands to draw a little rabbit too. He started praising Emma a lot and her expressions changed a lot, so he laughed very hard at her (his thoughts were that he never laughed this hard in his whole life).

Pikmin 4 has sent me wondering about New World of Steam

TL;DR: I'm speculating about the potential of a free roam environment in the new Layton game

...This is like, the fifth time I've had to type all this out because of dumb technical issues and human error (Emphasis on human. And on error.), so I would greatly appreciate it if you'd keep reading!

I thought of this stuff like, a week ago, but I was too lazy to type it all out, but I'm finally making myself do this.

Okay, so I've been playing Pikmin 4 for a while now. Great game. Excellent game. I love all the different changes we've seen in it compared to Pikmin games prior, but there's something in particular that's stood out to me. Namely, the base of operations where you spend time between missions.

As you save more and more castaways, the base expands as the group works together to create more space for these rescued folks so everyone can live there comfortably. Makes sense, and I think it's a neat mechanic. But it also reminded me of what we were told during the New World of Steam trailer; that the city would develop further based on the puzzles the player solves.

This got me thinking - what if these developments are something we experience firsthand? Maybe we play as Professor Layton, with Luke taking on the role of a guide in a more literal sense than his being the detective this time and the professor taking on the apprentice-like role. Maybe we play as a character we get to create and customize (I'm not terribly convinced of the latter, truthfully, but I also believe anything is possible).

Regardless, I believe it's possible that whoever we play as will be roaming around a 3D environment that develops as we solve more puzzles. Certain vehicles become available to us, which we'll use to get around different areas. Maybe that also means vehicles that are blocking places will move out of our way so we can enter new locations, such as roads that were blocked leading to other parts of town, or shops in the area that were previously obstructed. Maybe through solving puzzles, we'll inspire people to open shops, or we'll assist them in building said shop itself.

If we do get to create our own character (however unlikely), maybe one of these shops will let us buy clothes for them! Or maybe Professor Layton could purchase new outfits for himself (also very doubtful). Maybe we'll see Luke shake up his own wardrobe as well (Even more than he already has? Have you gone mad???). I'm guessing there could be a clothing store of some sort because Katrielle had a lot of different outfits in her game, so maybe we could see a similar mechanic here too? (With maybe hint coins or picarats as a currency?)

Maybe we'll see some sort of mechanic place open up where we can customize our vehicles, possibly through solving puzzles or something. Perhaps we'll see a DIY function at this location, similar to that of Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

Obviously, this is all speculation and the ramblings of a mind starved of Layton content for too long, but who can really say what Level-5 has in store for us this time?

...All that said, I do hope they don't stray too far from the old formula. I imagine it will most likely still be a visual novel type game, and I really do hope that the cutscenes will still be the 2D animations we know and love. But who knows? Only time will tell.

Oh wow! You read to the end? You're literally the coolest! Stay hydrated, okay? Eat something today if you haven't already. Look after yourself; you can't solve puzzles if you're all worn out. I'm proud of you.

Picture Perfect Memory

I've been fighting with myself on posting this for the past month, so I'm just going to do it. I normally don't write this stuff, but something about being grabbed by the moment and flying away with it, ya know?

🔞 Minors Do Not Engage

In dedication to the lovely @angelicdavinci - who's work with her own muse leaves constant sparks in the brain ✨💕✨💕

Leo x Reader

Everyone is well into adulthood ages with this.

This was written with Bayverse in mind, but I do believe any iteration could work with this.

Warnings: Smut, Edging (lots of edging...I regret nothing), Heated first kiss, grammar mistakes (most likely)

Sapphire blue eyes stared wide-eyed at you from across the loft. The lights were set to dim and it allowed the blue-masked ninja to be silhouetted with the night sky of the city; god, this giant turtle was going to be the death of your brain with all the inspiration he gives you so nonchalantly.

His eyes roamed over your body once more and it was all you could do to keep your hands at your hips and your expectant stare set away from silent satisfaction. You couldn't help the twitch of a self-asserted proud grin when his eyes locked with yours and realized he'd been caught undressing you with just his eyes. With a clear of his throat, twice, he finally spoke, “Wh-what was that?” you barely caught the whisper of your name as he looked off, though he couldn't stop staring every so often.

You couldn't blame him, though. You were wearing his signature color; a sapphire silk robe, tied closed that ended mid-thigh with seemingly nothing underneath. Oh, if only he knew...

“I said,” you chuckled out and eased into a casual air to help calm him down, “can you do me a favor for a new painting project? I need to get some reference photos made, but the pose is...ah, difficult to accomplish with certain elements requested on the piece.”

Leo lifted a brow ridge and eyed you warily, “what sort of elements?”

Your lips pressed into a flat-line at his suspicious tone. Honestly, fair, given the circumstances he walked into on his unexpected visit.

“Before I say, I would like to reiterate that this is for a commission piece,” you raised up two hands to deliver your point, with an equally insinuated pointed stare, “okay?”

He snorted a laugh and finally turned back to you, his eyes finally showcasing ease and that spark you've grown to enjoy seeing from him. “Okay. What difficult elements has your latest client saddled you with?”

“Funny you use the word 'saddle',” you muttered, and before he could ask you to repeat yourself, you gave a beaming smile—all charm, no seduction, even a pretty-pretty please tone for good measure as you lead him to where your camera was pointed, “I need you to lift me up off the ground, please—“

“I'm sorry, what?” Shit, he crossed his arms; he is so much harder to convince when he crosses his arms.

You sighed in exasperation, “I need the weight of the cloth and feet to look a specific way, Leo—I've looked everywhere on the websites and reference packages I use on the regular, and there isn't a good combo for either or both. SO,” you clap your hands together, meaning business, “it's self-reference time, and you just happen to decide to pop in on an unannounced visit at the most perfect time to help.”

When he continued to stare down at you, an unreadable expression stagnant on his features, you clasped your hands together and gave him a pleading stare in return, “please? Pretty please? I'll-let-you-have-the-last-of-the-blueberry-cheesecake-pretty-pretty-please?”

After another second, he breathed a short laugh through his nostrils and smiled. Amusement was clear on his lips, though his eyes...they seemed to glow with something, but before you could pin that glow he unfolded his arms to brace his hands on his hips, “Alright, you tempted my tastebuds.” You gave a short victory hiss and small fist pump before he continued, “Is this going to be a lift under your arms? Waist?”

You waived your hand nonchalantly before motioning for him to remove the bulkier portions of his weapons. “A bit more complicated than that, but I'll walk you through it,” a thought struck you and you quickly went to check your camera settings and positioning while Leo placed his weapons on the table a few paces away.

With a hum, you calculated how long this might take and properly adjusted your camera settings and shutter time. When Leo walked back into view, it allowed you to adjust the angle for better quality and no head-chopping-off effects. You absentmindedly saw his lips move through the lens, but it wasn't until you saw him chuckle did you register he said something.

“Sorry, was concentrating,” with a final click and the timers sets, you walked back to him, “what'd you say?”

“What makes this so complicated if all I'm doing is lifting you up for real-time gravity's sake?”

You gave a small swallow as you stood before him once more. The pose description from the commission read through your mind's eye, and for some reason you just noticed how tall he was compared to you. Shit, you hope you didn't accidentally fuck up the camera angle. Maybe you should check it once more? No! No. You're stalling at this point, and you promised yourself you would be better about that this year.

So what if Leonardo has been your muse since you've met, and your crush for just shorter that time frame? You could do this with ease and nonchalance. Like always. For his sake.

Never mind the high sexual content of the comiss—ANYWAY.

“Sorry!” You blinked back to attention when he snapped in front of your eyes. He chuckled in amusement as you gathered your nerves, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh, “was mentally going over the pose description and...got lost in thought.” With a clearing of your throat, you reminded yourself of his original question and summoned every ounce of your willpower to retain ease of relaxation. For his sake. “It's a no-nude, sexually suggestive wall-pose, meant for a cover option for the client's latest romance novel.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from laughing at his saucer-wide eyes and the blush that just exploded from his features. Fuck, you had no idea he could blush and goddammit he is so fucking adorable—the sound of the first shutter from your camera brought you back. Focus. You can do that. For his sake.

“I, uh...don't know if I can do that...?” His voice was calm yet hesitant, though his widened eyes and twitching fingers showed just how scared he was. At least, you think it was scared nerves. With an exhale through your nose, you gave a small smile and gently took hold of one of his hands.

“Hey, it's okay,” you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before gently squeezing his arm with your other hand, “it's just me; it's just us. We don't have to focus on the emotional side of it, just the posing.” You made a thoughtful look before you winced, “don't think you'd be able to do the specific emotion for the guy that was described, anyway.”

A chortle escaped the back of your throat as he struggled to not look offended at your words, “and, exactly, how was he described?”

You knew what he was suggesting with that question. And you couldn't help the endearing smile from spreading on your lips as he refrained from looking annoyed. God, he seriously was cute.

“So, I don't know what all you have going on with all this turtliness,” you said playfully as you motioned to all of him before grinning up at him, “but I highly doubt you are hiding wolf features that could be handy in this project.”

His eyes widened for a third time before he balked in a laugh, bracing his free hand suddenly against the wall behind you, “I'm sorr—what?” You shrugged, still holding the smirk as you watched him get it out of his system, “What is your clientele?” The shutter went off a second time, and you made a mental note to keep that specific picture for yourself.

“Leonardo. Lee. My dude. My muse,” you braced a hand on the arm that was next to your head before giving him a deadpan stare, “you really, really don't want to know that answer. Just know that their big bucks pay the bills and our penchant for expensive and extravagant desserts.”

His laughs died down and his sapphire eyes stared at you, not quite wide but still shocked. You raised a silent, questioning brow as you wondered what you'd said that stunned him into silence. Ah hell, was he imagining all the depravity you have to stifle through for commissions? Hell, if he only knew the half of it.

“What'd you say?” His soft whisper caught you off guard and you blinked. That...didn't sound like he was imagining the horrors of depraved, unhinged commissions.

You blinked once. Twice. And gave up on guessing, “I said a lot, Lee; can you give me a hint here?”

Suddenly, the hand that had been holding yours raised to gently cup your cheek. You froze, eyes widening similarly to how his were before, as you stared at the sapphire shining just inches before you.

“What did you call me?” His whispered words ghosted your lips, and just as suddenly your throat tightened.

Shit. What did you say, this time? Something good, maybe? Hopefully? Had to have been; the awe-struck wonder and painfully clear hope ringing in his eyes and voice, raw as silken honey, gave notion that you said something very good. Called him something heavenly.

As you went back on what you said and all the names you called him at the start, nothing rang out of the ordinary for you. Until you realized you said something extra among his general nicknames.

Your eyes widened further, the swallow in your throat clicking at the difficulty with how tightly it closed off, and you felt how hot your blush erupted all over your face, ears, and even down your chest. His thumb graced the apple of your cheek, seemingly following the spread of your blush as his eyes roamed your features. With a breadth, his eyes became hooded and he took a step closer; closing the space between you two as he stood up taller, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. His thumb and forefinger cradled the base of your skull so comfortably, so perfectly, and with a gentle pinch he leaned your head back to look up at him in full.

“What did you call me, little bird?” His voice had dropped an octave, and with the added husk you nearly felt your knees lock.

You swallowed, heavily. Audibly. Heart thrumming in your ears as you felt the smallest, tiniest intake of his breadth caused his plastron to brush against your silk robe. You were suddenly aware of his closeness, suffocating and yet not close enough; of his touch, encroaching and subtly suggestive and yet not with enough pressure; of his eyes, steady and hopefully patient, yet not near as demanding as they could be.

The shutter went off a third time.

He blinked, and his one movement allowed you to take a stuttering breadth you hadn't realized you'd been holding. A hand relaxed on the upper edge of his plastron to hold yourself steady, eyes fixated on his once more. His sapphire gleams moved to watch your lips as you finally spoke, “My Muse.”

For a heart-stopping second, you felt the short, tension line between you two grow taught. At the next second, you breathed in a gasp that was quickly swallowed up; your silk covered back pressed hard against the cool of your wall as his body encompassed yours, fingers pinching just right to keep your head aloft, jaws slack, as he drank the air from your lungs with a hunger that you were daft to call a kiss.

Too suddenly and yet not fast enough, you felt his other hand caress from the wall, down your neck, shoulder, graze the side of your breast, and rest at your waist. Rest wasn't the appropriate word, as he kneed and stroked your waist and hip without moving further, but god it was becoming hard to think with how he held your lips captive against his; heated, hungry, consuming, possessive. As if he were not to live, breathe, for another second if he were to let go.

You became dizzy, lungs beginning to pinch from need of air. Your hands flew to his neck and gripped tight to his scale skin, nails dragging down with a whimper until you grasped desperately at the top edge of his plastron. You felt his plastron shudder against you before his breadth followed suit against your lips. He pulled back, barely an inch, allowing you a short reprieve before he dove back in even hungrier.

Your surprised squeal turned into an embarrassing moan when his tongue suddenly left a trail from your chin to the cleft edge of your upper lip; grazing your teeth and teasing the entrance of your mouth that left you a melted mess against his strong body. Your breadth staggered out, following his tongue as he pulled back, ending the kiss too quickly and leaving you wanton.

His dark chuckle tickled your ear when you felt him press against the pulse of your neck right behind it. “Are you going to sing for me, little bird?” You unconsciously tried to move your neck, to give him ample room, but he held you steady. “I think it's a possibility. Don't you?” His voice was filled with husk as he nudged the back of your ear with his beak. The hand cupping the back of your neck tensed as he simultaneously moved his other hand to brace against the outside of your thigh, raising it high with an effortless grip that slid his hand just shy under the hem of your robe. Your breadth staggered, blush deepening to an even dizzier effect when he stepped impossibly closer, fitting just right between your thighs.

He breathed in deeply against your ear before his tongue began working your neck in full. His hand knead into your thigh, simultaneously raising your leg subtly higher until you felt your knee graze the outer ridge of his shell. Fuck, if you felt yourself get any hotter, you were going to feel faint. It had been far too long since anyone touched you with such attentions, let alone attentions you've wanted from any said person.

A moan vibrated against your throat as he licked from your clavicle to your chin. Your own hitched moan of his name pressed against his opened mouth when he nearly stole another hungry kiss, your fluttering eyes locking with his glazed, blown eyes. God, there was hardly any sapphire showing—how could he go from adorable to hot—

You barely had time to gasp when you were suddenly lifted, arms wrapping around his neck in shock before his mouth devoured yours once more; tongue teasing the inside of your lips, barely grazing the edges of your teeth, leaving you a groaning mess. His hand slid to the cress of your thigh and held firm, holding you aloft one-handed as he pressed his body firm, almost full weight, against yours and flush against the wall, stealing your breadth in multiple ways that squeezed your lungs so good.

A guttural vibration against your chest made the weighted and breathless sensations all the more heavenly as your body vibrated in response. Your hips twitched suddenly, as much as they could, repeatedly as the vibrations from his chest continued and god—he had you in a helpless mess; unable to move, completely pinned and limp against him as he held you aloft in his strong hands, leaving not even enough room between you two for your hips to fully grind against his waist. A desperate moan rang into his mouth as you realized you were as much his puppet, his doll, as he was your muse.

You couldn't find a single fiber in your being that was upset about that. Not when you were already feeling so edged, so good, with him barely having touched you.

He suddenly stopped everything, frozen against you, and you wanted to scream in frustration; to beg and demand him to continue, but even his stilled mouth held yours captive. When his hand at the cress of your thigh purposefully brushed against fine lace instead of bare skin, you realized why he froze.

When you opened your eyes at his continued stillness, you felt yourself become still as a statue. His blown eyes bore into you; so many emotions passed within that intense, heavy stare and yet you could not name a single one. A deep seeded part of you was filled with enough dark curiosity that you didn't feel deft to explain yourself under his gaze, even if he freed your lips to do so.

His hand ghosted the lace as it rose higher, higher, and remained on the lace as he maneuvered his hand to your lumbar and nearly lifted your silk robe completely bare from your legs. Lace was still felt at your lower back, and a single finger stroked upward towards your waist, and when lace was still felt he finally broke the stilled kiss apart with a resounding smack to look down, as if he possessed x-ray vision to see through your silk robe and both your pressed bodies to see the secrets that you were hiding. It was enough to elicit a small chuckle from you, one that was cut short when his dark eyes snapped back to you. You bit down your chuckle, but there was no helping the smile to die down.

“Did you plan this out, little bird?” His husk-filled voice vibrated in your chest, leaving a moan stuck in your throat.

You supposed that was a fair assumption. But, really. He should know who he's talking to at this point.

“My muse,” you whispered, breathless, and did not miss how his breadth caught at the new petname, “am I really someone as suave as that? Be honest.”

He stared at you, really looking at you. Mussed up, breathless, flushed to dizziness, and absolute putty in his hands. And exhaled a short laugh against your face, “no,” he leaned in and nuzzled the side of your jaw with his beak, “but you definitely had me fooled.”

With two flicks of his wrist and a single step back, you felt your robe give way. Your eyes flashed to his raised head as he looked down; as much as you wanted his weight pressed up against you again, you wanted to see his reaction to your chosen outfit that was only supposed to peek at your shoulder for the photo references.

For the fourth time that night, his eyes widened, though there was no sapphire to be seen among the whites. With open, unabashed awe, Leonardo stared down at your sheer, floral printed lace body suit; extremely fine lingerie that was paper thin and did not hide anything. Gooseflesh arose across your exposed front; the body suit exposing your breasts in a deep v-cut that ended just above your naval and barely covering your nipples, which hardened into pebbles against the harsh floral embroidered print of the sheer lace.

But what you knew what got him caught up, what nearly had him drooling was the bright blue color—the exact same as his mask. You knew no matter how many times you'd be able to tell him, from this moment on he would never believe that you owned this item of clothing prior to having met him. And a heavy part of you didn't feel the need to ever correct that assumption, whether he would share it or not.

Speaking of heavy...

With gentle touches to his cheek, you were able to drag his attention from your body and back to your eyes; he finally took a breadth that you just realized he had been holding. With a wide smile, you nosed his beak, “I thought you were going to make me sing, my Muse?”

Instantly, the vibrations in his chest continued and a breadth later, his body weight was pressed back onto yours. You gasped, sighed out all-too-happily with that wide smile; his hand lowered back to your thigh, now half on your ass and gripping so tightly you knew you were going to bruise before morning. A sound erupted through his vibrations, what sounded like a purr and yet held a different note and rhythm entirely.

Your sigh turned into a loud, vocal moan when he took your throat into the entirety of his mouth and pressed his teeth just enough for pressure; his vibrations and fast churring adding a sensation you never knew you missed, yet needed as it caused your vocals to vibrate out. His tongue pressed further pressure against the front of your throat, squeezing your vibrating moan to cut off every so often.

Tears from overwhelming, amazing sensations were felt at the edges of your eyes as he slowly released your throat. You barely caught the sight of a grin in your peripheral when your hips attempted another frenzied twitch when he pressed impossibly closer. Your lips moved against his when he spoke the words that would have you broken forever:

“My little bird, I'll make you come so hard that you'll forget how to swallow.”

This was so nice to wake up to😩 It's great to know there's an audience for pure angst on here! I was kinda worried about the copious amounts of it I'd dumped into this fic lmao😂

Angst lovers unite😩✊

And yeah I made sure he wasn't a total pushover😂 people need to learn how to stand their ground😤

⚝fic type: one shot as part of the weeknd series

⚝genre/contains: choi yeonjun x gn!reader, angst, fluff ending, heartbreak, yeonjun was a rebound

⚝word count: 4k

⚝synopsis: yeonjun was simply supposed to be a rebound to help you cope with the breakup you'd just gone through. when your relationship with him blossomed into more than that, you abruptly cut him off in a bid to protect yourself from any more possible hurt. you ended up hurting him instead, and as time went on you realized what a huge mistake you'd made by letting yeonjun go. perhaps you'll be able to salvage what you two had at the party tonight...

You chased after him in the sea of swaying bodies, weaving through the partygoers as deftly as you could manage while still keeping his raven coloured hair within your line of sight. It’s a good thing he was tall.

Your struggle in trailing after the sullen boy was eased considerably when you followed him onto a corridor with a thinner crowd. He didn’t look behind him or acknowledge your presence in any way before opening a door to his left and disappearing into its well-lit interior.

“Yeonjun, wait!” you pleaded, planting your palms on the bathroom’s door to keep him from shutting you– and the rest of the party– out. Your voice broke out from the confines of your chest all rushed and high-pitched, as if you feared you’d never be able to say what you needed to if you didn’t act right then. “We need to talk. I need to-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yeonjun mumbled. His voice was gravelly, probably from lack of use. You’d noticed him falling quiet as the night wore on. His tone was firm, defensive, and it was a clear indicator that he wanted you to leave him alone.

“But there is, Yeonjun,” you insisted, just as firm. He sighed and held the door open for you, avoiding any eye contact as you walked past him into the small space. If you had to have this conversation in a bathroom then you would. The bright fluorescent lights left spots in your vision for a few seconds since everywhere else outside this bathroom was dimly lit. Yeonjun closed the door before leaning against it, black bangs falling over his eyes that were trained on the tiled floor as he waited for you to speak.

—

You and Yeonjun had broken up a few months ago. It really hadn’t been your intention to get into a relationship with him in the first place, heart still sore and mending from what your ex, Heesung, had put you through. But Yeonjun was like a treat that one stowed at the top shelf of their pantry for ‘emergencies’; vowing that they would take ‘just one more bite’ and they’d have had their fill... inevitably losing that war before they even realised it. You kept promising yourself that every date would be the last, and by the sixth one he had officially asked you to be his and you’d selfishly agreed. What you had meant to keep as a reliable contact for Saturday walks in the park had evolved into late night drives with a boy who held stars in his eyes.

You met Yeonjun at a dance studio a friend had been nagging you to check out. The place had a great reputation and you soon learned that Yeonjun spent a lot of his free time there. He was exemplary at dancing, much like anything else he really set his mind to. Like winning you over, for example. Something in his vibe was simply magnetic; he wormed his way into your heart quicker than you’d have thought possible. You knew what drew you to him… his infectious laughter that made his chest heave with the power of it, his attention to detail and how he expressed gratitude for even the tiniest of favours. Yeonjun never took anything for granted. He could also read you like an open book– always a step or two ahead of you in anticipating your needs and wants, and fulfilling them the best he could. Yeonjun was very convincing in his methods of winning you over, and before you knew it he’d reeled you in completely.

You’d let the affair get to far, both emotionally and physically, and when you eventually let him go you could see how heartbroken he was. It was insensitive of you, but the need to protect your recuperating heart had overpowered your empathy– at least at the time. The detachment was somewhat justified and easier to deal with when he’d seemingly moved on before you even had the chance to come to terms with everything. In any case, Yeonjun wasn’t one to dwell on things, especially outwardly. Once you’d ended things, he hadn’t stopped you to ask what had caused you to break him in the way that you did. He simply… moved on. You suppose it was selfish of you to want him to have lurked around for a while after the break-up, brooding over the broken pieces like you had with Heesung.

He didn’t even ask for his stuff back– the hoodies he’d left over at your place or the gifts he’d given you. Yeonjun wasn’t petty, and it sparked a newfound respect within you– because Heesung had been his polar opposite during your break up with the former. But without Yeonjun your days felt so long; without his cute texts to get you through your day the hours dragged on. It made you acutely aware of how Yeonjun had become your emotional support in so many ways. From his random check-ins to the silly memes he sent you… your life felt oddly empty in Yeonjun’s absence. It had taken some time to wean yourself off waiting for the chime of your phone every day at around lunch, which was when he usually spammed your line and reminded you to get something to eat.

The last time you’d seen Yeonjun was weeks ago. You’d ended up in the same restaurant late on a Thursday evening and you tried your best to ignore the forlorn gazes he not-so-subtly shot you every now and then as you directed your attention to the guy sitting across from you. He was a co-worker who’d been courting you for months and although you had no real interest in him, you decided to accept his dinner invitation with the hopes of getting Yeonjun off your mind. However, even while you weathered through the ups and downs of your own life, your nonchalance and indifference towards your breakup with Yeonjun was starting to wear off. Your true feelings within had inexorably begun to show themselves.

The nagging of your ever-persistent subconscious had caused that dam of emotions to break tonight.

He looked well, laughing with his friends and moving to the music as the party kicked up. He’d grown his hair out a little, black strands now brushing low on his neck. He was dressed as casually as everyone else, yet something about Yeonjun’s frame and stance made clothes sit on him elegantly.

When you’d first arrived, you caught sight of him as you and your friends milled through the throng of dancing bodies, stopping every now and then to greet someone you knew. Yeonjun’s smile had dropped once he turned around and saw you, the pain in his eyes evident as he tried to muster a smile back onto his face for the benefit of his own cheerful clique.

Nevertheless, he hadn’t spared you a glance as he breezed past your group of friends with his own gang. You knew this was all your doing, so why did it hurt you so much? Yeonjun was just supposed to be a rebound. A rebound that got out of hand, and you had ended things while you were at his place– in his bed, wearing his t-shirt. You still remember that Saturday as if it was yesterday. You’d had a fight the previous night, but he still convinced you to stay over and bargained that you two would solve your problems in the morning. In any case, it was late, and getting a taxi at that hour would be difficult. When you woke up your fight or flight instinct had kicked in when Yeonjun raised his voice a little as the two of you tried making amends. You were so scared that things would escalate the way they had with your ex, who would get so mad and say things he didn’t mean. He would then shut you out completely and for days it would feel like you weren’t in a relationship at all. That’s why you’d ended things with Yeonjun then and there; running away had always been your defence mechanism– albeit a shitty one.

After everything that happened with Heesung you had shied away from love, running away any time it knocked at your door. Your walls were high but Yeonjun had swooped in and made a hole in your defence, planting a seed of genuine care and affection that– through your haze of mistrust– you could only view as a weed in the carefully cultivated garden of your heart.

You’d uprooted him, and only then in his absence did you realise what you’d just given away.

What you didn’t know was how much Yeonjun was suffering without you; how much he’d cried after your fall-out. He’d taken your break up as a sign that you didn’t find your relationship with him valuable– that there was nothing to fight for between you two. That thought had spiked bitterness in Yeonjun, although it was largely clouded by the love he was starting to have for you that only grew bigger in your time apart. Perhaps absence did make the heart grow fonder. Yeonjun stopped frequenting the places you two would go together, trying to exterminate the sick hope in his heart that you would somehow bump into each other. He hated how cold his nights were without you. When you would come over you’d always offer to make dinner for the both of you as long as he was on dish duty. His apartment felt draughty without the calm and warmth your soft, sleepy laughter brought. The colours of his walls seemed washed out and Yeonjun’s general outlook on life had turned bleak. It had taken him forever to snap out of that mentally and find joy in what he liked to do once more.

His friends chastised him that it was foolish to have been so trusting so quickly, but something about you had drawn him in and taken a hold of him. You were diligent and quick witted, always eager to learn and open-minded in your ways of solving problems. Yeonjun had taken note of how weary you were heading into your relationship with him, how tentative you were in reaching out to him. He’d slowly unravelled the story of what had happened to you in your last relationship and did everything he could to make you more comfortable around him. A few weeks in and he had you smiling more, laughing more and sleeping better. He didn’t want any repayment for it, other than your time and affection… and when you had taken that away he’d been distraught. He’d never expected the excuse you had given him in the flurry of your departure from his life– that all Yeonjun had been to you was a rebound. All that time, all those kisses, all you two had shared was intended to be nothing but a temporary fix to your broken heart.

But he wasn’t going to give up on love as a concept just because of one bad relationship. Yeonjun patched himself up and spent all that love on his friends, his family, and most importantly himself. Seeing you tonight stung, sure, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that.

—

The booming music had felt invigorating at first, considering this was the first party you’d attended in a long while. But now, in the cramped bathroom face-to-face with the boy whose heart you’d broken, the thumping of the bass was steadily giving you a headache. It was turning into the kind of evening where you’d usually crave Yeonjun’s company; his patient care soothed every headache and his attentive ears listened to every rant. If you wanted any hope of having another evening cuddled up on the couch with him then you’d need to right your wrongs in the here and now.

But the expression on Yeonjun’s face foreshadowed a difficult task on your part.

“I know there’s absolutely nothing I could say to ease the pain I caused…” you started off, chancing that his features would morph into a look less judgemental. “And I can’t fix the mistake I made but-”

“Mistake?” Yeonjun asked incredulously. He fought back the hope that was blooming within him; had you really changed your mind? Yeonjun internally scolded himself for being so ready to forgive you. He wouldn’t give into you so easily in case you broke him once more.

His gaze turned icier, emotions frozen beneath the dark gloom of his irises. “C’mon, think of something more original.”

“Well, I just want to tell you that I’m so sorry,” you said, taken aback by his cold retort. You fought the tears springing in your eyes. “I didn’t deserve you from the start, and yet you overlooked that and loved me anyways.”

You were shaking with how much you were restraining yourself from crying. “Yeonjun– I was terrified. And because of that I ruined it.”

Yeonjun just watched you, eyes thawing and softening a fraction with a new emotion you couldn’t quite place. He said your name quietly, patiently– as he always did, drawing out the syllables in a manner you’d always loved.

“What were you so terrified of?” His eyes bore into your own imploringly.

“Of the way you loved me,” you explained, frustrated by your situation and the tears that had started running down your face. “Yeonjun, you– you showed me what love could really feel like. After what I went through with my ex I couldn’t seem to let anyone in and you somehow fought your way through all my inhibitions.”

“You should’ve just communicated from the start.” He huffed exasperatedly, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross them over his torso.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, wiping your watery eyes on the back of your sleeve. “I’m trying to learn… how to not run away.”

He didn’t say anything for a long while, and you resigned yourself to the fact that all this was too little, too late. The silence grew heavy– loud, almost– as you stared at each other. The short distance between you two felt broader when Yeonjun’s eyes became distant for a while in thought. He spoke just as you were looking for something else to say.

“So what are you trying to get at with all this? Do you want me to take you back?” His tone was steady, unlike your shaky one as you stuttered and looked down at the floor. “You caused me so much pain.”

“I know, Yeonjun,” you said, missing the way a few teardrops slipped past Yeonjun’s eyes as you weren’t looking at him anymore. “And I promise I won’t hurt you again.”

Yeonjun let out a mirthless laugh and leaned down slightly so you were at eye level. He still kept his distance. “You’re right, you won’t.”

Your heart sank at his words. The harsh, assertive tone was so uncharacteristic of him. Had he perhaps found someone else? He did deserve someone better, but knowing Yeonjun you didn’t think he’d get into another relationship this quickly.

“Are you… seeing someone?” You choked out, a lump forming in your throat. Yeonjun considered your question for a moment before shifting from his position against the door and lessening the space between you two.

“Nope. I’m not ready for that yet. Wouldn’t want to repeat the cycle of heartbreak just to feel something,” he said quietly. Your mouth fell agape at the dig. His words cut deeper than a knife, tearing right through you and leaving you breathless with how heartless he sounded. Had you really turned him into this?

“I– yes, of course. I understand,” you said as steadily as you could manage, before nodding and excusing yourself. Yeonjun slid down against the door once you had disappeared back into the party, hiding his head in his hands as he sat with his knees pressed to his chest on the floor.

Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun was simply putting up a front to prevent you from hurting him again. In the time you’d been apart he’d begun to put up his own defences… somehow knowing that a time would come when he’d have to face you again. You couldn’t avoid each other forever. A part of him had been waiting for this moment, replaying its possible pathways in his head while he cooked or showered or took a walk. He wanted you to feel that he’d totally let go of everything you two had, just like you did.

Now that this confrontation had happened, Yeonjun wondered if proving a point had been worth it. Your sorrowful face just now was a stark contrast to your controlled calm on that fateful Saturday. Sometimes hurt, and the fear of it, turned people into who they weren’t– and Yeonjun had just made the same mistake you had months ago. His heart ached with remorse; he’d been too harsh. The way you had followed him and apologized had caught him off guard. He hadn’t been prepared to have that conversation and he’d reacted badly.

Yeonjun cursed at himself and got up on his feet, determined to find you and put an end to this back and forth.

—

You didn’t bother looking for your friends again after you talked to Yeonjun. Neither did you try find a way to get home on your own. You just moved around the party people watching, more or less on autopilot. Yeonjun’s cold words and expressionless face burned behind your eyelids, haunting you every time you closed your eyes.

A merry group of people were trying to rope you into a game of beer pong when someone suddenly hurtled into you. You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings, and for that reason you barely had time to react when a boy came crashing into you from your side. You were knocked into the beer pong table before hitting the ground. Your reflexes saved you from landing square on your face, because your arms flew out to catch your fall. The guy who’d crashed into you apologized profusely as he tried helping you up to your feet. His friends who’d been chasing him around watched on guiltily when you winced, quickly adjusting your stance so your left foot was carrying more weight than your right. The stares from everyone around you was starting to get on your nerves, and coupled with the events of the night you were on the verge of crying again.

The boys tried leading you to a nearby couch but you declined their help and limped away from the scene as quickly as you could; you really just wanted to go home now. You had almost made it out when you nearly tripped on a rug near the landing. You’d have tumbled to the floor for the second time that night if someone hadn’t steadied you from behind.

You were going to turn around and thank your good Samaritan, if the close proximity hadn’t let you get a whiff of Yeonjun’s distinctive cologne. You froze in place, the comfort you instinctively drew from that scent had you finally breaking down completely.

Yeonjun wrapped his arms around your middle and drew you close, shushing you. “It’s okay, we’re okay, I’m here…”

“My ankle,” you managed to spit out through your tears. He hummed in acknowledgement before picking you up bridal style and walked outside, towards his car.

“Geez, what happened?” His voice was laced with so much concern as he fumbled with his pockets for his car keys.

“Someone barrelled into me by accident,” you muttered, calming yourself down by tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

“You’ll need some ice on that foot,” Yeonjun said, more to himself than to you. “I could stop somewhere and get some.”

“But Yeonjun,” you started, trying to deflect the attention. Was he actually planning on ditching the people he’d arrived with to take you home? “Your friends…”

“They’ll find their way home, it’s cool.” He set you down in the passenger’s seat before circling round to the driver’s seat. Once he got in fetched you some tissues from the back seat as you explained what happened.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked quietly, reaching over to brush a few hairs away from your face. Your skin warmed up slightly at the places his fingertips brushed against.

You shook your head and laid back against the headrest, exhausted. “I just want to go home, Jjunie.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” he whispered, trying to ignore the flip his stomach did at your use of the nickname. “We’ll get you home and we can order some takeout if you’re still hungry. But first, let me check out that ankle.”

He helped you hoist your leg onto his lap, mindful not to bump it against the gear lever. The delicate way he cradled your foot as he reached for the glove compartment had any animosity you had left in you towards him dissipate. He quietly hummed a tune you didn’t recognise as he grabbed the first aid kit and took out some brand of muscle relief spray, painting your ankle in the cold liquid before temporarily wrapping it with a bandage.

Yeonjun worked in silence as you watched him patch you up. In the quiet peace of his car it felt like nothing between you two had changed– like this was just any other day when you’d have to give each other first aid after over-exerting yourselves during dance practice.

“You’re staring,” he sighed after some time, and you were about to apologise before you caught the soft smirk playing on his lips. “Am I that gorgeous, hmm?”

You laughed at him, groaning at his playful banter. “Please, spare me, Choi Yeonjun.”

He laughed with you, and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Yeonjun looked happier now than he had all night, that light he carried within shining in his eyes once more.

“I missed you,” you admitted.

“Missed you, too, runaway,” he said back with a pout. His eyes turned serious for a moment, regarding you with such profound affection, before he winked and returned his attention to his task.

“Oh no, is that my name now?” you giggled.

“Might be…” he said, earnestly. “If you stick around.”

Yeonjun’s eyes adopted a shimmering quality when he let his vulnerability seep through. It was one of your weaknesses, one of the ways he’d unknowingly won you over. His eyes sparkled with a glittering hope as he waited for your answer.

“I will.” You held out your pinkie finger and he chuckled as he linked it with his own. “This time, I will.”

“No more running away…” he whispered. The two of you had somehow gotten so close mid-conversation and you could now make out the shadow of his eyelashes against his cheeks from the party’s lights seeping through the car windows.

“No more running away, I promise,” you confirmed in a hushed tone. “I want to stay.”

“Good,” he said happily, swooping in to nuzzle his nose into your cheek. You were giggling like little kids at the action, big smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“You know… you have to seal that promise,” he chanced.

“How will I do that?” you asked, laughing at the bashful pink tint on his cheeks. “We already pinkie swore, what’s left?”

Yeonjun didn’t answer you verbally, he merely pouted his lips in your direction, stifling back a laugh as you burst out with one of your own. Nevertheless, you happily obliged once your short fit of giggles had subsided, cupping his face in your palms.

You softly pressed your lips to his, both of you sighing at the feeling you had missed so dearly. Yeonjun’s plush lips pillowed yours oh-so lovingly, his hands sneaking up your sides to wrap across your back. The kiss was slow, neither of you in much of a hurry since you had the rest of the night ahead of you to keep at this deliriously sweet pace. The two of you kept going for what felt like forever, the precious give and take of such a delicate exchange too glorious to give up. You only pulled away because the position you two were in was getting uncomfortable. You both chuckled at how you’d ignored that fact for so long, too caught up in your kiss.

“No more tears, for the both of us.” you said breathlessly.

“Agreed,” Yeonjun whispered against your lips, stealing a final kiss before he pulled away with a grin and started the car.

⚝A/N: this had so much ANGST gdhjvjfkg. still, i found this oddly theraputic and really enjoyed breaking the song down. thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed these two being dumb haha. if so, i'd love to hear your thoughts, so don't be shy to send an ask or rant in the tags :D

⚝TAGLIST: @mental-hollows @forever-in-the-sky2 @yizki @bangchansbae @woncheecks

homecoming | sam x reader

word count: 3.2k

tags: hurt/comfort , family struggles , reader and sam are married , set somewhere in year 2 (kent is back) , oneshot , intimacy

synopsis: Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.

a/n: i love sam but the allure of angst is too hard to resist!!! sorry babe i still love you 😔

Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.

Your feet are bare as you linger at the entrance of your room. The dimmed light of the living room washes away the darkness of the hour. It's late, the air is cool and damp smelling of night dew—you take a deep inhale. It feels thick as you breathe it in, like smoke is clouding around the room, restricting your breaths.

Sleepless nights were not unusual in your household. Before you married Sam, you hardly slept—the satisfying ache of collapsing into your sheets after a day at the mines was an addiction you couldn’t get enough of. 

Now, you earn enough to afford coming home before sunset. No longer having to worry about how you’d afford the next day. And if you are being completely honest, evenings spent with Sam are far more addicting than the sting of a day’s work. 

The ache is still there. It comes with the profession. Though not anymore the dull humming ache in the muscles and joints of your arms and legs, but a bone deep ache settled deeply curling around your chest. 

Somehow, it stings even more.

It is as if it drags over your heart, catching on every ridge and edge of your bones. Daring to fill your lungs with ichor—hardening like stone around your ribs. No amount of stardrop you swallow can ever relieve the stinging soreness. 

The cushions of the old second-hand couch groan and squeak as you twist and turn atop of them. Perhaps as restless as you are. The light flickers—on, off, on. 

It doesn’t scare you, but it makes you uneasy. You’re long over the notion the farmhouse was haunted, but nights like these make that conviction waver. The nape of your neck prickles—like a person is staring from behind. Sam isn’t here to tease you about ghosts nor curl his arms around you in mock protection. 

He hasn’t been here in hours, hasn’t been present in so long. It feels wrong. It feels like an omen. Your fingers find the back of your neck, brushing over the vulnerable skin. 

You hold a tassel cushion tightly to your chest. Your knuckles whitening with the strength of your grip on it. The strength of your heartbeat is so loud you’re convinced it would be heard without the pillow to muffle the sound. 

Little Vincent is sound asleep, snoring softly away in his dreamland. He looks like the epitome of innocence under the quilted blankets of your bed. It's soft, worn and covered in stitched cartoon-y lions and tigers. A temporary parting gift bundled up in his dinosaur backpack from jodi. Before he came to live with you and his older brother. 

The separation was painful. there were tears—for both him and for his mother. 

(Sam stood next to you then, gripping at your hand so hard you felt it prickling with numbness. You didn’t dare look up to see the tears you know are there, the crystalline tears dripping down his lash line. 

It would’ve made the teardrops in yours fall over too. You’d stay strong for the both of you.)

The entrance door to the farmhouse creaks open and you immediately know it’s him. Relief floods your whole body—to your fingertips to your toes. He's safe, and home at last. You stand up and hurry to him, throwing the pillow to the ground, before the door creaks shut.

The air goes still, calm before the storm. The anticipation before potential terrible news.

(You expect there will be. You can tell by the way Sam slumps, like the weight is physically bearing down on his shoulders.)

Sam is still at the doorway, slumping over you when you wrap your arms around him. He smells of sweat and the cloying scent of rubbing alcohol—something must’ve happened, you think. It smells like the clinic.

The paper bag in his hand loses from his grip, it falls unceremoniously to the ground with a dull thump. You pay it no heed, mentally accounting to pick it up later. Though you note that it lands right over your ‘home sweet home’ doormat. Fitting.  

“Sammy.” you greet him with a chaste peck on the cheek. He barely has the energy to hug back, more so stay steadily upright on his feet. you both sway slightly, suspended in the tranquility of the moment.

You try again, slowing the movement of your lips. “Welcome home, my love. you there?”

His lips move against the skin of your neck, a whisper of a greeting. It is enough for you.

Sam retracts his face from your jaw. There are blue-purple eye bags under his eyes, like bruises. The trademark twinkle in his brilliant green irises have dulled to nothingness. He looks so unlike himself like this, older than his years and so unbearably tired.

And you wish, with all your heart, to take his aches away. To wash them away like ink in water. 

You pull him into the living room with you, the skin of his wrist enclosed in the firm guiding grip of your fingers. He's fragile like this, this sunshine of a man reduced to a shell of his usual demeanor. 

He trails slowly behind you, silent. You say nothing, either; choosing to focus on the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps padding against the floor. In the living room, you dim the lights to a mere whisper of light. 

These days, when he comes home, you’ve built some sort of routine.

You drag him down to you, spread lying down on the length of the couch. Your thighs frame his hips as he melts into the warmth of body. He lays on top of you, his cheekbone against your chest. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, as he presses his ear to the epicenter of your chest—the sound of your heartbeat quieting the swirl of thoughts in his mind. 

You gently remove the woolen beanie nestled on his head—revealing the stringy oily mess of hair under. A sign of how little care he has been sparing himself after his father’s homecoming. You feel your lips downturn into a frown. He hasn’t even been using that hair gel you like to tease and groan about. 

(You lied when you’d say you hated it. You don’t, never did. 

You miss it. You miss the things that make him, him.)

You don’t hesitate in running your hands through the softness of his hair. Your fingers scratch gently on his scalp, eliciting a soft sigh from your weary husband. Eyes watch raptly as his shoulders unwind and ripple. The tension in them melts away with the deft caress of your hands.

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Like a knife twisting. You love him, you love him.

Moments pass, the silence is almost comfortable when you ask, speaking it to the silence of the room. There’s a wavering lilt in your voice reassuring him. You aren’t going to push him for an answer. He doesn’t need to respond. Him being safe, home and warm in your arms is all you ever want. All you’ll ever need.

“How are they?” 

(The first night, you and Sam stayed the night in his family home. squeezed in his twin bed with Vincent curled up by his ribs. The little boy couldn’t bear sleeping alone that night, not with the anxiety of his father being back making him pace a mile a minute.

The air in the household had shifted that day.

In the dead of the night, the fire alarm went off—a blaring loud beeping sound from the kitchen. Totally harmless, a malfunction. A disturbance to sleep more than anything.

Except it was not.

You still remember the blood-curdling scream that came from Jodi and Kent's room. The panicked sobs of Jodi as she tried to calm her terror stricken husband. 

You remember the way Vincent clung onto you, like a koala to a tree. You cupped your hands tightly over his ears—he didn’t need to suffer the consequence of it.

Sam removed the fire alarm and Vincent from the house the next morning.)

His voice is hushed when he speaks. A pin could drop and be more clearly heard. “Mom's… getting better.” 

Not getting worse than she already is.

You plant a kiss on the crown of his head, lips soft and adoring on his skin. You ache to take his burden, to take his share of suffering. 

It hurts sometimes, to be right beside him but feel so faraway. Yet like this, feeling every curve and edge of his body—you can convince yourself that it doesn’t.  

“Is Vince asleep?”

“Yes,” you reply, tucking a blond curl behind his ear. His head unconsciously tilts to the room where his younger brother rests. Ever so protective of him even like this. 

Continuing you say, “He was looking for you,” you thread your fingers through the short blond strands at his neck. Sam untenses slightly in your arms, his arms going limp at your sides. “He's been fidgety lately. Restless.”

“He usually is.” his feeble attempt at a joke. Though the rasp in his voice only makes it sound resigned. You purse your lips, eyes tracking back to the cedar wood of your bedroom door on the other side of the room—and the sleeping child behind it.

You stroke Sam's hair, thinking. “More so than usual.”

(You know why. He knows too. Kent wasn’t the same when he returned from the war. He was vulnerable, not the fragile type but vulnerable in the way a ignited bomb threatened an explosion.

Vincent wasn’t either—grown much more from that thumb suckling toddler when he left.

“My dad is coming home soon,” Sam confides in you on that day on that day on the beach. Him standing a few feet away from the shore line, and you; next to him.

“This isn’t how I wanted him to grow up,” his voice cracks with vulnerability. “I—I want him to have a better childhood than I did.”

“He will, Sam. He will.” I know you’ll make sure of it.

His eyes are red-rimmed and raw when he looks at you. All you wanted was to wipe that anguished expression off his face.)

He is silent. All is silent. Tranquility is like a honey thick syrup poured over your chest, smeared all over the expanse of your body. The soft sounds of your synchronized breathing is the only sound you can bear to hear. It makes your eyes droop, the lethargic feeling dulling your senses.

Your hand reaches for his, intertwining your palm with his long-fingered one. You relish in the familiar feeling of his calloused fingertips, earned from afternoons spent with his guitar. His skin is warm, warmer than yours. You give his hand a tentative squeeze, he squeezes back.

“Mom told me to say hi to you both for her,” he tells you, his breathing slow and deep. “She misses him, and you. She’s coming to visit as soon as she can.”

“Vince misses her too,” you sigh, craning your head forward to peek at the top of his head. “It's affecting him, I can tell. Penny's getting worried. She tells me he hasn’t been himself at school.”

All that Sam can manage is a deep intake of breath, then a softer resigned exhale. There isn’t much nor enough for him to say. Your free hand goes to smooth down his back. The muscles there are tough—bunched up and tense.

He shifts between your thighs, baring down heavier on your pelvis. Even as tired as he is, Sam is restless. Always has been, whether it be on his skateboard or with his guitar. You ignore the growing ache in your lower back—it is not your moment, but his. The warmth of his weight on top of you overpower any discomfort you have.

Twirling the stray curl at his neck, you finally ask. Fingers featherlight against his shoulder.  “How… is he?”

Sam stiffens above you, the lean line of his body rigid. He’s clearly distressed with talking about his father. You suck a breath through your teeth, knocking your leg gently against his, giving your silent push for him to continue.

“I can't even lie,” he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away. “It isn't good, Doc Harvey says dad’s got PTSD from the war. It's triggered by loud sounds. Remember the time he woke up because of the fire alarm?”

You nod, curling your fingers around his. You try to provide him any semblance of comfort—to reassure him. You love him, always. 

It's painful to see, to watch what he’s going through only by the sidelines. 

Sam looks up at you from your chest, eyes blurry with exhaustion. His jaw tensing ever so slightly, you see the patchy blonde stubble starting at the jut of his jaw. The wrinkle in his brow growing more prominent at the mention of his father. It's a fresh type of wound, raw and open. You dance around the topic, like poking a sleeping lion that threatens to attack at any given moment.

“We’ve transferred him to stay in my old room. He’s been holed up there most of the time. The nightmares are keeping mom up. He wakes up screaming most nights." Sam rasps, squeezing your fingers. He speaks lowly against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the heat of his body bleeding through it and into you. 

His voice dissolves into a pained crack when he speaks. “It sucks.”

“It will get better, we can get through it,” you sit up slightly, elbows bent behind you. Sam's been out the whole day. You assume he must be starving and tired. “Do you need anything?”

Sam doesn’t let you up, though. He tugs you back down under him with the gentle pull of his arm. You still in his arms, looking down at him.

“No,” he pleads. “just… stay with me, okay? Let's stay like this, please.”

You swallow, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

You wish you could ease his worries. You wish you could tell him that it’ll be alright and he would believe it.

You love him, more than life itself. Like you are a planet that orbits around him, the sun. You show him so everyday—and will continue to do so with everyday that will come. 

You just wish he’d be more selfish with you.

If he falls, you’ll piece him back together. Glue his bones together with your hands, relying on the familiarity of his being. Anything, you’d do anything.

The matching mermaid pendants resting over his and your collarbone symbolizes that.

“I want to help you, sam. You take all this burden up on your own. please?”

He sits up, back hunched over you. A dim shadow of him filtered over you. You follow him, like you can’t bear to be apart from him. 

“You are, you always have,” Sam softens, gazing at you so reverently you could sob. He looks at you as one gazes at master paintings, like he is in wordless awe of you. 

The room is dark with night. If you strain your ears hard enough, the cooing of the owls filter through the cracks of your windows. The moonlight is scarce, you can barely see the expressions painting his face. Though, you’re sure your expression is as lovesick as his. Practical hearts in your eyes as you stare.

“Looking after Vince is more than I could ever ask for, honey.” he whispers, pinching the hem of your sleep shirt between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“No Sam,” you murmur, taking his face into your hands. your hands frame his face, warming the cool skin of his cheeks. Desperation fills every movement in a plea for him to understand. “I meant you.”

You inhale, relishing the smell of sweat, mint and rubbing alcohol on his skin. The scent smells so comforting, and so familiar. 

You hope he finds that same solace in you as you do with him.

“I want to take care of you,” you say more firmly, stroking him on the skin of his brow bone. “Won’t you let me?”

He stares at you, enveloping your hands with warmer ones. You sigh contentedly at the feeling. They sear into your skin, warming you with the righteous heat of his devotion. 

To you, he is the sun and you have the sun right in the palm of your hands. You know he won’t ever burn you, nor leave your skin red and raw from his intensity. His rays are gentle, a featherlight whisper of a kiss on the expanse of your body.

But the sun never stops shining. It is steadfast in its duty to provide. You worry, will he explode in a grand supernova or crumple into a black hole? 

Either way, you will never allow it. You’d rather douse the sun in the water of the ocean to hold him in your arms. Maybe then, he can finally rest soundly. 

You feel his thumb rub back and forth on the back of your palm, silent and considering. The brush of it melting you against him like a contented cat. A smile graces your lips, you can wait.

Though you do not need to. Sam turns his head and kisses your wrist. His nose bumping into the crease of your thumb. You feel honeyed warmth drip down your heart, collecting in the cavern of your chest.

That's all the confirmation you need.

(There are some days his words fail him. The days his mind is bursting with ideas, so much so it’s difficult for him to convey a singular thought.

That's alright. Perfect, even. Sam has always been better at expressing himself through actions.)

“I love you,” you kiss his forehead, then over each of his eyelids. You want to kiss every inch of his skin until there is nothing left to cover. “so, so much.”

You press your lips to the corner of his. Opting to speak your promise against his skin, to tattoo your undying love into the smooth expanse of it. 

Sam tilts his head, causing his lips to brush completely against yours. He presses them firmer against yours, the taste of spearmint gum heavy on his tongue. You lick the seam of his lips—let me in, let me in. 

“I love you too. more than you know,” he gasps, tearing his lips away. His breath puffing warmly against the skin of your cheek. He declares it as if he’s running out of breath, and it is his final words. A willing sailor drowning in the deep ocean that is you. “More than anything, more than life itself.”

You press your forehead against his. Your eyes meet the depthless green of his. The twinkle is there; flickering and faint but present.

Love is what brought him to you. It’s what keeps bringing him home to you every night. You want to be his refuge, his comfort, his partner for life. 

Your eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Share the burden with me, Sammy. I can take it.”

At the end of the day, he is all you want. All that you need. If it takes him time, you won’t mind. even if it takes centuries.

Sam captures your lips again. Murmuring his agreement greedily against you. You love him, you love him and he loves you. 

You are the one he comes back to, his spouse. The greatest love of his life. Home isn’t the farmhouse you’ve built a life in—

It’s you, always has been you.

An open note to readers of fanfic

Sometimes I stare at the computer screen when the words don’t want to come and I think, “Fuck, who am I kidding? This is terrible writing, and this story is shit, and no one cares, anyway.“  And I close the window and go do something else.

But every now and then I get an amazing, heartfelt, beautiful comment from someone who loved something I wrote, and it reminds me that, at least for that one person, I did write something worthwhile. And so I open the window again and I write one sentence, and then another, and then I start to find my way again.

So on behalf of all fanfic writers everywhere, I want to say thank you, thank you so much, to all of the readers who take the time to leave a comment and tell us that something we wrote mattered to you, that it brightened your day or made you laugh or cry or get horny or whatever.

Please don’t think we’re ever bothered by your comment, or that we don’t want to hear it, or that what you have to say isn’t important enough. It means so, so much. And on some days, it’s what keeps us going.

I don't get how people still hate Severus when Harry was the one who apparently experienced "trauma" from him, and Harry is Severus's #1 biggest defender now.

——— Start of Questions ———

"Snape bullied kids!"

And Minerva (And other professors) did too but you completely ignore them and focus on your prejudices with Severus. The fact that Severus threatened Neville into poisoning his toad and Minerva literally locked out a child from the Gryffindor common room when apparently there's a mass murderer inside of Hogwarts shows a huge difference. You justify Minerva's actions because you either like her or you don't hate her as much as you do with Severus.

Severus says Hermione is a know-it-all and Minerva degraded (and publicly humiliated) Neville saying that he'll never be able to transfigure a teapot.

Then here we have Hagrid disfiguring a child and insults his appearance because he hates his dad.

And the difference is, Severus would never disfigure a kid.

Madam Pince literally hexed Ginny and Harry's things. Mcgonagall sent four children into the forbidden forest with HAGRID, she knew what she was doing when she sent them with Hagrid. If Neville did that? He would serve detention with her.

She bent the "First Years aren’t allowed their own Broomsticks" for HARRY. That's favouritism and that's all because Slytherin was dominating the House Cup. Would Severus bend the "First Years aren’t allowed their own Broomsticks" for Draco just because he wants a medal sticking in his office? No.

Minerva let Severus bully the Golden Trio (Primarily Harry) through Years 1-6, why did she let that happen? Why didn't she tell her colleague off? Well, that would be hypocritical considering she also does that.

In Year 7, she allows DEs to torture students.

She was mad at Fake Professor Moody because he transfigured a student and not the fact that he was repeatedly banged a students head on the ground.

Minerva is just as bad as Severus, she gave them harsh punishments but you guys look in deep in Harry's biased point of view that you guys think Minerva is just strict and Severus bullied children.

And if Minerva was just "strict" to Harry, imagine what she did with other students? She practically bullied them.

Haha... But no. We should just look at Severus because he's the bad guy and not because the wizarding world's punishments are completely different from real life / muggle views. These type of stuff are normal (and controversial) in the wizarding world. SEVERUS WASN'T THE ONLY PERSON TO DO THIS.

Everyone did this as a professor, it's normal in the wizarding world. This is not to justify Severus's actions, but if you hate Severus and like other professors... Then you're a hypocritical person.

"Severus became a DE!"

He was in Slytherin, he was influenced by the Pure-Blood obsession that people in his house had. He simply became a DE because he was a curious child who wanted to learn about the dark arts.

Did Severus torture or kill people like death eaters like Barty and Bellatrix did? Haha...

To put my last post about this in summary:

Severus was neglected by his parents (And heavily implied that he was also abused), gets bullied by two boys resulting in 4v1 (This was because he wanted to go to Slytherin. He sneered back and James & Sirius wanted to bully Severus because they were two spoilt brats who cannot let "Snivellus" sneer back since they'll never get used to someone sneering at them [Since they always get away with it] They come from two rich pure-blood families, what did you expect?), almost gets killed and Remus nor Sirius gets any consequences about it, his life is worth a detention to Dumbledore. James flexes to Lily that he saved Severus's life (With a modified version of the prank since she'll know about Sirius were primarily involved in a negative way and it's his best friend right?) and Lily, his apparent best friend, BELIEVES HIS BULLY OVER HIM. This is what you call the only positive thing in his life? If this is what you call the only positive thing in his life, then his life is fucked up. Lily holding her smile and blushing while James does horrible things to her best friend, gets surprised and furious when Severus calls her a mudblood, then his private part being showed to the whole school.

I would be heavily embarrassed if I were Severus, no, I would honestly cry and drop out.

Severus got manipulated and heavily influenced by rich, pure-blooded Slytherins because he was given the respect that he never got in his life, he was influenced to have prejudiced thoughts when he never had those thoughts when Lily got her letter, infact, he comforted her. That says A LOT about this. Severus was invited into that DE cult because he wanted more of that respect—more of that power—more of the fame. He just wanted to feel respected. Because that was what he was not given at Hogwarts.

"Snape deserved the bullying, he bullied the Marauders in the train. / Someone had to do it."

Who threw the first direct insult? Sirius. Who threw the first indirect insult? James. What did Severus do? Sneer back. Did he deserve those years of bullying? No.

You literally take references from ATYD and other #severussnapeslander Wolfstar, Jily, Rosekiller, and Jegulus fics from AO3. Don't act like Sirius and James aren't worse.

When did he deserve to almost die? When did he deserve to get bullied every single day? When did he deserve to get sexually harassed?

How would you feel if it was you?

How would you feel if the people who bullied you were painted as heroes?

People who sexually assaulted and almost killed you?

The lack of empathy from Mstans just prove that they are vicious bullies bullying an eleven year old and calling the kid derogatory names doesn't make you less of an evil person as Severus is.

At least have the respect to call him by his last name.

"James and Draco aren't similar! James is better than Draco."

James literally sounds like the worst version of Draco Malfoy.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

"Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" - Draco Malfoy, Philosopher's Stone.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" - James Potter, Deathly Hallows.

- Laughs at a muggle woman getting SA'd in Quidditch world cup, finds it funny, and makes a joke of Hermione getting SA'd. -

“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”

- Sexually assaults Severus and finds it funny, uses it to impress Lily. -

There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air.

'Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?'

— Both are rich purebloods —

- Draco saves Harry to make sure his family doesn't get in trouble -

"There's something there," he whispered. "it could be the scar, stretched tight.... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Harry saw Draco's face up close now, right beside his father's.

"I don't know," he said, and he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

- James saves Severus to make sure his friends doesn't get in trouble -

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

We aren't even talking about James and Draco being bullies who have no empathy for their victims, sure, James isn't just one-dimensional and Draco is morally grey, but James was just caring around his friends, other than that? Not so much. He was stuck with his friendgroup being sycophants (Sirius because James loved him as a brother, Remus who didn't want to speak up about the bullying because James and Sirius picked him up even if he was a poor half-blood, and Peter who wants to fit in.) Draco was stuck with Slytherins being sycophants because he was a rich, high status pure-blood with friends he made as slaves.

Both were spoiled, arrogant, attention-hungry, and self-entitled, traits common among children of their background. Draco would bully the kind of people James befriended, while James would bully the kind of people Draco associated with.

"Snivellus—"

If you're fine with calling Severus a derogatory name, you must be fine calling Luna "Loony" as well.

"Severus called Lily a mudblood."

Severus was a mudblood as well, you wouldn't care if people–of–colour use the N-word on others but you care if Severus does?

Severus also said that in the heat of moment, his best friend did literally NOTHING for the minutes of time he was getting assaulted and she was a prefect.

He said that for masculinity.

Lily didn't do anything for the period of while he was getting assaulted, instead, she held her smile.

Severus would've casted an unforgivable to James or Sirius or anyone who would've done that to Lily, but Lily did the opposite.

Instead, she stood there, blushing.

Severus apologized to her numerous of times, probably not even knowing what his best friend did.

Not justifiable, but still a very good argument.

"Lily was a good friend."

You call LILY a good friend? The one who would believe her best friend's bully over her best friend? The one who would laugh and blush while her best friend gets physically assaulted? The one who watched her best friend get assaulted AND she was a prefect.

Lily was NOT a good friend, she was a terrible one. I also will always held on that Lily secretly waited for the Mudblood incident to drop Severus off, you know, since Severus was a weirdo.

“They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” She dropped her voice. “And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there—”

They don't use dark magic? It doesn't stop them from bullying kids. She doesn't even know the whole story and yet, she is judging.

- She lashes out on Severus instead of her sister -

"I don’t want to talk to you-" she said in a constricted voice. "Why not?" "Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.”

It's basically Severus's fault because they got the letter and Petunia didn't? She blames Severus for getting the letter and not her sister for her jealousy?

Lily, whose furious expression had twiched for an instant as though she was going to smile said - let him down!

Ah... Yes, let's watch our best friend get assaulted infront of the whole school and let them be. That's a very nice best friend.

Now tell me, where was she a good friend? She was not an angel, she was terrible.

She also blames Severus for having Evan, Mulciber II, Avery, Wilkes, Rodolphus, and possibly having Narcissa, Lucius, Rabastan, and Regulus as well. Did she expect that she would only be Severus's friend considering he's in a house full of pure-bloods? It was an unspoken rule in Slytherin to basically have pure-blood friends. She doesn't get that, she doesn't understand him, because he is evil in her eyes.

She doesn't get the points that Severus makes, because Severus was already bad in her eyes.

He had questionable company, sure, but Severus wanted companions too like she did with other Gryffindors, so why can't he have friends in his house. She's friends with Gryffindors who basically despise him.

So if he was friends with people that would've called her a mudblood and she didn't like it, why is she inlove with a Gryffindor who bullied Severus anytime he got?

Severus called Lily a mudblood because he was being humiliated infront of the whole school, he didn't want her to see him being weak, so he lashed out.

He was a Slytherin, pretty common by now that his banquet of friends used that word pretty often, and there you have it. Severus never meant to hurt Lily, but it did slip out of his tongue.

Not justifying his actions here (Pretty obvious by my wording) but Lily was NOT innocent in terms here.

"Snape was obsessed with Lily."

Ahh... Yes. Severus was the one who forced Lily to go out with him, Severus was the person to bully her best friend, Severus told her to go out with him and he wouldn't bully his best friend anymore.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Because it's not him.

Severus grieved Lily the way Sirius grieved James, yet you don't call Sirius obsessed because he loved James as a brother, Severus's love for Lily was never proved to be romantic.

Aha! Now I made you think.

The same patronus means true love—not obsession. He stayed away from her marriage but still loved her from afar, when he realized the information he gave Voldemort could harm Lily, he offered his life to Dumbledore. He even asked Dumbledore to save James for the sake of Lily.

Sirius would've done the same for James.

After Lily's death, he was devastated, he wished he were dead, he became spy for Dumbledore, and all of that.

Severus and Lily were childhood best friends; Lily was Severus's only "true" friend.

His patronus was a doe, pure light magic (Hence most DEs can't perform a patronus). It wouldn't be affected by obsession.

I don't get why some people think Severus was purely obsessed with Lily, because there will always be a special person in someone's heart and Lily just happens to be Severus's special person.

Even Sirius and Remus who were capable of making such lies about Severus in order to hide everything from Harry, didn't say nothing about Severus stalking Lily or tried to persue her.

She dies and he feels suicidal.

Why do people think this is obsession? Severus had no one, the reason why Sirius could hold himself before he died is because he wanted to take care of Harry, to love him like he loved James. Severus couldn't because he's a death eater and he couldn't love himself, how can he love Harry when Harry looks exactly like his bully. And Severus can't take care of Harry legally anyway, Sirius could because he is his godson.

If Severus was obsessed with Lily, then Harry was obsessed with his dead dad : /

JK. Rowling even said that he wasn't obsessed, how are people so pressed about it?

I just don't get it, why would JK. Rowling write Severus's obsession with Lily and offering his whole life just to have s*x with her everyday on a CHILDREN'S BOOK?

Meanwhile James: - Doodled her initials in his OWL paper, publicly humiliated her friend just to make him look bad in front of her, tried to blackmail Lily into dating him, threatened to hex her and had a map that literally tracked down everybody's (including Lily's) movements. -

"Severus made sure Remus was gone from Hogwarts."

Yes after Remus endangered three children, he already got away with it the first time, he shouldn't in another time.

Remus was completely irresponsible and forgot to take Wolfsbane, sure, he was a good DADA professor, but almost killing three children?

I don't think the Grangers nor Weasleys would want to hear about this.

——— End Of Questions ———

Thank you for reading my paragraphs of how stupid Mstans can be.

Not everything is about defending Severus, but the double standards are crazy...

Yes, Severus told the prophecy, bullied children, etc. But he's a two-dimensional character who saved the Wizarding World, if Severus didn't apologize to Lily, you'd attack him too.

So... Stop using ATYD references and start adding braincells in your head.

Have a great day! 😓

(Add more if you want to.)

Thank you for reading Cat got your Tongue!! And I see some of my favorites on here too! 👀👀 seriously this is a great list for JK fics 🫠💜

Jeon Jungkook (WC: <20k)

bold + italics = top fave!

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last updated: 12/26/23 ✿

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