#So my apologies if this makes no sense. I'm kind of tired.

[heebambilee]

I've seen what some C-engenes are saying on weverse about hoy Enha look tired and unhappy and all that stuff when they go to China, and that they spend a lot of money on them just for Enha to treat them "bad" and calling them all kind of stuff, asking for them to apologize and give them a "special" treatment like they do with i-engenes and asking for gifts and that at this point Enha should know chinese cause they're tired of speaking in another language and blablabla..I just want to say fuck you all. If you want the same "treatment" as i-engenes stop being fucking weird and let them breath, they can't even let Enha have their own fucking personal space when they arrive at the airport ¿what are they expecting? ¿For them to be happy about that? No fucking way. And i know that not all the c-engenes behave this way but i'm so tired of this.

Maybe if they stopped being weird and making them feel uncomfortable even at fanmeetings, they wouldn't have to be so cautious when going to China and maybe if they were able to treat them like HUMANS then Enha would seem "happier" but every time they land they take a bad memory from them.

I'm a latin american engene, I don't even have the chance to buy a photocard because of the unstable situation in my country and I don't have enough money to do so. They haven't even set foot in my country and I really doubt they will anytime soon. I'm not lucky enough to go to a store and see Enhypen albums for sale because they just don't make it to where I live. And I'm sure there are many more engenes in the same situation as me. Do they see me taking it out on them for that? Demanding things from them as if I have any right to do so? No. So if I were them I would be happy that, despite the bad times they're going through when they land in China, they keep coming back (not that they have other option tho, that would probably only cause more serious problems). Some of us keep watching them through a screen all the time.

Just leave them alone, they have enough to deal with on a daily basis without having to put up with this. It's not that hard to understand, it's all common sense.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Assistant Noah AU + Alenoah Idea... After Alejandro lashes out about Noah liking his true self + true interests... Confused Noah asks why Alejandro doesn't want Noah to like his true personality...

Alejandro: "Because everyone only loves the fake, perfect, flawless me!"

Assistant Noah: "So, shouldn't you be happy that I prefer your true self?"

Alejandro: "But the true me is flawed and makes mistakes!"

Assistant Noah: "Perfect is boring and overrated... I'd take the 'clever, dorky, and dino-loving Alejandro' over the 'fake generic pretty boy Alejandro' any day... If it makes you feel better, I can tell you my true interests?"

Alejandro (trying not to cry happy tears): "... Okay." 🥲

The dialogue's a bit stilted, but I do like the idea.

Though, if anything, I think Alejandro would be the one to confront Noah about his apparently aversion to all things Alejandro Burromuerto (the persona), and Noah - being the incredibly blunt person he is - would plainly tell him that he knows a lot of Alejandro's personality is an act, and that he doesn't appreciate being lied to every time they interact.

Alejandro wouldn't know what to do with himself in this situation; he's spent near enough his whole life cultivating his social image and the persona he needs to play, to the point that it's become second nature for him. So for anyone, but especially someone as unassuming as Noah, to call it out as transparent and fake, would be a massive blow to Alejandro's ego and self-esteem. An entirely neccessary blow to his ego, but one he isn't exactly equipped to deal with.

And then Noah would clarify that he's seen the barest glimpse of the person beneath the persona; in the brightness of Alejandro's eyes whenever he talks about things he's truly passionate about (like puppetry and paleantology and skateboarding and playing the accordian and-- you get the idea), or in the occasional dry remark he makes about his teammates, or in the softness of his features whenever Alejandro allows himself to relax a little from his "perfect team leader" act. And that he prefers that side of him, because at least it's real - he wants to get to know the real, genuine Alejandro before he can consider them friends.

To which Alejandro admits that he isn't sure who the real Alejandro is. He's never been allowed to be anything less than the mask he hides behind presents, not just on Total Drama but in his day-to-day life, and he isn't sure where he'd even begin in seperating himself from the expectations that have been set upon him by his family and the world at large of who he should be. Isn't sure if he can.

Why can't Noah just accept him as the fraud he is, he'd ask. A broken plea from an equally broken boy who doesn't know what it means to be himself.

And Noah wouldn't have an answer. Quite frankly, he wouldn't've expected his simple request for honesty from Alejandro to result in a whole identity crisis breakdown from the other. He'd just stand there, speechless for perhaps the first time in his life, as the unbreakable pillar of Team Chris crumbles before him under the weight of the world on his shoulders.

...

And then they'd hug it out or something whilst Alejandro vents about his awful childhood to Noah, and Noah would think to himself, "Well, I guess I asked for this. Can't complain about it."

[curiousorigins]

Most days I’d rather be asleep. Probably going to end up watching another sunrise. I’ll have you know I was mildly, but nothing important, productive today.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐤𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬❞

a/n: as usual, afab!body w/no gendered language. y'all i swear i'm back surely... i totally don't work five eight and a half hour shifts in a row after this... not at all.... anyway didn't include all of the hashira just because i don't want this to feel too overcrowded, might do a part two though if anyone wants a specific character. enjoy!

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

▸ face fucking. he loves taking his frustration out on your poor throat, especially after particularly drama filled hashira meetings. watching the way the spit dribbles past your lips and how your eyes roll into the back of your head so unashamedly.

▸ spit kink. he goes crazy for it fr. having you kneel in front of him as he takes ahold of your jaw. forcing your mouth open and instructing you to stick your tongue out before spitting. he moans so beautifully when you readily accept his gift and swallow.

▸ choking. he loves the feeling of wrapping his hands around your throat and squeezing, seeing how your cheeks redden. enjoying the choked gasps you struggle getting out with every thrust inside of you.

▸ degradation. he's got a mouth on him, that's for sure. insults upon insults thrown at you, practically babbling about how much you're a dirty whore- his dirty whore- the closer he gets to his orgasm.

▸ brat taming. breaking you down until your nothing but a shivering mess. you always just have to give him attitude, don't you? running your mouth until he's forced to put you back in your place.

. *. ⋆ GIYUU TOMIOKA

▸ hair puling. both giving and receiving. shamelessly moaning anytime your fingers brush against his scalp, yanking at the hair while his tongue licks at your trembling walls.

▸ body worship. he's so fucking in love with you and that's especially in the bedroom. he spends hours memorizing your body, trailing your curves, kissing at the dips in your skin. all before he even thinks of fucking you.

▸ bondage. intricately tying your wrists and ankles to bedposts, the roughness of the rope scratching at your skin with every pull. he'll stand above you for a few seconds after, just watching how you squirm against the restraints.

▸ cock warming. sometimes he's just so bone tired from it all. he just needs to feel you, nothing more. sitting you on his lap and sinking his cock into your welcoming walls. face burying into your neck and savoring the feeling.

▸ sensory deprivation. goes kind of hand in hand with his love of tying you up. he has an extensive collection of silk ribbons, in all kinds of colors, that he'll have you model for him later that night.

. *. ⋆TENGEN UZUI

▸semi-public. he's so daring with it, really. when he wants you, he wants you, and he's not ashamed of that. fucking you in too small closets as maids at the butterfly mansion pass by, or on the top of a roof where nightlife bustles below.

▸ size kink. he's fucking huge, towering over you in every sense of the word. seeing how your lips struggle stretching around his cock or how small your hand is compared to his- it drives him absolutely insane.

▸ breeding. my god please don't get me started on this.., he wants to cum inside of you so bad, anytime and every time he fucks you. thinking of how sexy you'd look all round with his baby!!

▸ humiliation. just like sanemi, this man has a mouth on him. seeing how your cheeks redden and you stutter anytime he calls you out on being such a whore for him- it's adorable, he just can't help it.

▸ orgasm denial. such a tease with it, too. lets you think he's gonna let you cum this time around, only to pull completely away from your skin as soon as your on that edge. cooing at how you cry at him, apologizing for being so mean, even if he doesn't really mean it.

. *. ⋆KYUOJURO RENGOKU

▸ breeding. best friends think alike, right? pls just make this man a daddy already. he's so desperate for it. rutting inside of you for the third time in a night, all to cum inside your pretty pussy.

▸ cunnilingus. oh, he is such a big pussy eater. sometimes it's just so much with him. large arms wrapping around the thighs that squeeze either side of his head, lapping at your pussy like it's his last meal and he's a man starved.

▸ eye contact. grabbing at your jaw, forcing your gaze to his, instructing you to keep it there. he's eyes are so intense, so fiery. boring into you with every thrust inside- taking in the dilation of your pupils and the flutter of your pretty eyelashes.

▸ overstimulation. most times he doesn't even mean to do it, y'know? you just feel so good, and he's chasing that high over and over again until you're jelly in his arms, feeling pleasure so painfully.

▸ dry humping. his favorite foreplay. the atmosphere thick as you both huddle close, grinding and frotting against each other. anything for friction. until he gets so desperate for your touch that he's ripping your clothes off right then and there.

[wrioluvr]

subby vampire x dom male reader pt 2 pt 1

thank u guys for liking kliff!! he's so baby. felt kinda mean and thought about a scenario where reader is like, a regular monster fucker and poor kliff finds out he hooked up with another vampire and gets super jealous teehee... but this is wholesome tho.

content: reader is kind of a player, blowjob (reader receiving), reader loves tormenting the poor old man, more plot-focused than pure smut

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱

after visiting kliff at his crumbling manor a few more times, you decided that you were getting tired of making the trip out into the woods everytime, and invited him over to your house instead, an invitation he eagerly accepted. though he kept a calm composure, inwardly, his thoughts were running wild - he would finally be able to bask in a whole home full of your scent.... maybe even steal a few small trinkets he could toy with whenever he felt lonely... or... or even get a feel of your bed, where he fantasised about waking up next to you and spending the rest of his days as your faithful househusband. oh, how delightful.

"thank you ever so much for allowing me to enter your abode. i am most honoured." thanking you profusely, he elegantly sat down on your sofa, only to immediately scrunch up his face in discomfort. you stared at him, puzzled. "what's wrong? you don't like my home?"

"no, no... it's not that... it's just that... this scent is so familiar. in an unnverving way..." he mumbled, talking to himself. suddenly, a look of recognition, mixed with horror, dawned on his face. "correct me if i'm wrong, but... there's not a chance you've had another vampire over.... is there?"

"oh! i forgot you vampires have a heightened sense of smell. yeah, i hooked up with another vampire like, 3 weeks ago." you said nonchantly, like it was the most insignificant thing ever. kliff merely gaped at you, aghast at your casualness. "so... so... i'm not your first vampire relationship?" he asked meekly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

"well, yes. i dated, hmm...." you start to list them on your fingers. "two vampires, one werewolf, one merman... oh, right, and one evil ass fairy. he was mean."

poor kliff looked like he was about to collapse, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. thankfully he was sitting down, otherwise he would have fallen over. "where on earth do you even find these creatures?"

"i get around."

"and you never thought to mention this?!"

"i mean, i didn't really think it was important..."

kliff sighed, suddenly feeling a little insecure at his complete lack of romantic experience in contrast to your many flings. "may i at least see what your past vampire suitors looked like?" he didn't want to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling very clingy, even more than usual. he had to be better than all your exes! so that you wouldn't leave him like you left them!

"sure. here you go." you pull out your phone and show him a picture, only for kliff to gasp loudly and clutch his chest even tighter. what a drama queen.

"HIM."

"you know him??"

"that little whore was going around sleeping with every man and woman in town a hundred years ago! i cannot BELIEVE he is still so promiscuous in this day and age. he even seduced you..."

"woah! language, kliff!"

kliff stops mid-ramble and clears his throat in embarassment. "my apologies. this is most uncouth of me. i do not know why i am getting so frustrated over this. the two of you are not seeing each other anymore, correct?"

"yes. you're the only one i'm seeing right now."

"and, if i may be so bold to inquire,,,, how was he like as a lover?"

"he was kinda annoying." kilff let a smirk escape his lips upon hearing this. "i knew it-" "the head was good though."

"what- what does 'head' mean?"

"he sucked my dick." you say bluntly.

"oh, good heavens."

"don't be a prude! wait... kliff, are you jealous of him?"

"i most certainly am not."

"at your big age? please be serious." you tease, amused at how possessive he suddenly got.

"do NOT make fun of me. i said i'm not." the pout adorning his face said otherwise.

kliff barely noticed it, but slowly he inched closer and closer to you, eyes scanning your neck as he frantically searched for bite marks.

"did he bite you anywhere? did it hurt? you must know, i would never even consider drinking from you, right?" he took your hand, eyes searching desperately for validation, any form of praise that indicated you thought he was the better vampire.

you rolled your eyes. "jeez, kliff. i didn't take you for the possessive type. don't worry, none of my previous vampire lovers have drunk from me."

that did little to reassure him, since he was on the same page. "then... then... i must be better at this 'head' thing!" he declares, face full of misplaced determination. you almost double over laughing.

"it's not a competition! my god, you're so unserious."

"it does not matter to me! i must be better than that lustful shame of a vampire at every aspect. especially since we are of the same species."

"okay, okay. calm down. i'll let you try."

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"just let me know you can't breathe or whatever. i'll guide you through your first time, yeah?" kliff nods, a blush extremely prominent on his undead features as he knelt between your thighs. he quite enjoyed this... submissive position.

"also- watch the fangs." the authoritative, yet gentle tone of your voice sent shivers down his spine.

he himself could be considered a monster, but he paled in comparison to the monster that sprung out of your pants once he clumsily undid the zipper. kliff gasped, a look of pure lust and nervousness written all over his expression as your slightly erect cock hovered over his face.

"so... basically... you just put it inside your mouth, then start sucking it. easy enough, right? come on, don't tell me you've never heard of a blowjob in your entire existence."

"of course i have..... i admit, i own quite a bit of... erotic fiction." he mumbles, eyes still on your cock, cheeks growing redder by the second. "but, goodness, it's so different seeing a real phallus up close. especially one of your size."

"phallus??? just say cock."

"mhm...." he hesitates, unsure where to even begin. flustered, he looks up imploringly, silently begging for you to guide him.

you chuckle at his frozen state, completely at a loss on what to do. "so needy. i'll help you."

tenderly, you run a hand through his soft hair, applying just a little bit of power to tug his head forward, guiding him to your tip. obediently, he opened his mouth, taking the shaft inside. it was warm, his rough tongue grazing over your tip, causing you to grip his hair a little tighter. kliff let out a masochistic moan in response. slowly, he ventured further down your length, but unable to reach the base without gagging. he looked up at you with apologetic eyes, but you squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was doing well. "good job, kliff. you're a natural." spurred on by your praise, kliff found a lewd rhythm, mouth bobbing up and down in a continuous passionate attempt to make you feel good.

your small grunts of pleasure kept him going. panting, you ask, "you sure you've never done this before, kliff? you're so good." he frantically shakes his head, mouth still full of cock, as if the idea that he engaged in such intimate acts with anyone but you was horrifying. he was loyal like that. it was intoxicating, the head only vampires could provide - fangs lightly grazing your cock's sensitive areas, the slight thrill unmatched. merman head was sloppy, werewolf head was rough, but vampire head was a little dangerous. you liked that.

soon enough, you were about to cum. you warned him, patting his shoulder twice, he vigorously nodded, giving you permission to cum inside his mouth. he'd only ever been used to having blood in his mouth, so having your cum inside instead was a new experience. but he liked it. maybe a little too much, as he swallowed it so enthusiastically. you gazed upon him affectionately, finding his virgin excitement over such lewd matters endearing.

"how was i?" the breathless question hung in the air, a reminder of the atmosphere thick with your intertwined tension.

cupping his face with one hand, the other stroking his hair soothingly, you muttered the words he most wanted to hear. "you were better than him."

kliff jumps into your arms, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "thank you. you're the absolute best." he's so content to spend the rest of his days with you. treat him with care, yeah?

>ᵥᵥ< 💘

tags: @4eaever @szapizzapanda @flyingsquids @vampmasc

omg i'm so happy with this one, one of my fav writings i've ever done so far. i felt like i characterised kliff and captured their dynamic quite well here hehehe

[tojismain]

clenched jaws and promises — part 2

part 1

The both of you drove in silence for a while, you were looking out the window and Toji’s hands had turned white from his clutch on the steering wheel. 

“Sweetheart.”

You turn to him.

He looks at you for a brief second before turning back to the road, his face stuck in a glare. “What did she say to you?”

“What?” You asked, keeping clueless. “Who?”

“You’re not dumb, baby. Don’t act like it.” He replies.

You inhale a breath and look back out the window, “She didn’t say anything.”

You can see him turn to look at you again, quiet for a moment before he looks straight ahead. 

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Toji, nothing’s wrong.” You say, exasperated.

“Bullshit.” He iterates and the car slows to a stop in the middle of the road. “I know you’re lying. I can see it on your face and I can hear it in your voice. Stop avoiding my question and tell me what’s wrong.”

Your heart pounds harder in your chest and you look at him, worried. “Toji, the car. You can’t just stop-” 

“There’s no one here. Tell me or I’m not moving.” His eyes were now fixed on you as he waited for a reply, and you feel scrutinized in the worst way. 

You were scared; what if what she said was true, what if toji throws you aside the moment he realizes you won’t change into someone else, what if the car gets hit because you couldn’t talk.

Tears gather in your eyes as you look at him. He notices them and moves his hands back on the wheel. 

He closes his eyes as he breathes in harshly. “Fuck.” He moves the car again and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I’m sorry, angel.” Angel.  He only ever used that pet name when he hurt you, and the fact that he was apologizing softened the fear in your chest.

You fiddle with your fingers on your lap, “She just got in my head about something.” You say. “It’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid. I don’t like the way you’re acting right now, baby. What did she say to you?” He was adamant on figuring out what was hurting you so bad. 

You swallow and explain, “That you have a type.” Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you continue, “And I'm not it. I’m not what you need. Sooner or later you’ll get bored and- I don’t know. It just makes sense—everything she said.”

“That makes sense to you?” He repeats and then parks the car on the side of the road. 

You turn your eyes away from him.

“No. Look back at me.” He was also adamant on making you understand something.

You felt hot, regardless of the cold air outside and inside the car. But you turn to look at him anyway.

“Get one thing through your head, right now. You’re it for me. I’d never get bored of you. I would never get tired of you. I don’t know what type of bullshit she fed you, but she doesn’t know us, does she?”

You keep quiet but he wants an answer.

“Does she?” He repeated and you felt like crying. Actually, you were certain you were crying.

You shake your head and look down. 

“Then tell me you understand.” 

You don’t know what it was about her and why her words affected you so much. Maybe you had been thinking about this for a while and she confirmed your doubts. 

“You’re used to a different life than mine. I can’t be that girl she was talking about—the type you have or used to have. I don’t want you to feel like you have to settle for me and then realize you have it all wrong.” 

All you could think was now was the time he would tell you to get out of the car, but regardless of his hostile kindness, he would never hurt you more than you’ve already been hurt. 

“Do you really think I don’t know what I want and what I like? Do you think I don’t know that I want you? You’re the only one I want and the only one I'll ever want and if someone gets in your head about that, you talk to me about it.” He reaches forward and tilts your head up.

“Does that make sense, sweetheart?” You look away but he follows your eyes with his own, his eyebrows furrowed as he waits. 

You look at him longer for the first time since you got in the car. He looked completely and honestly sincere. That’s when you decide to believe in someone for the first time in your life. 

You nod your head in reply, and he swipes his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tears.

“Good.” He looks at you for an instant longer, committing your face to memory.

He then places one hand on your thigh and the other goes back to the steering wheel. It was almost as if he was scared you’d disappear, and tonight more than any other night, he needed to know that you would stay.

aurelia

[nightwngz]

Hi this is my first time requesting! Can you write a Damian Wayne NSFW where it’s my first time meaning the family he is stressed out and needs relaxing. (But the bat fam is home for the holidays) so no noises. I hope this makes sense!! Thank you so much love your writing!!!

— 𝓣𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ✧!! eng.

older!damian wayne x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble. porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, fingering, p in v.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I'm so tired with college that I didn't even have time to proofread it properly. An apology for that ;(

For a long time, Wayne Manor was the home of several people who, as they grew up and matured, moved on to other places to perform their duties as vigilantes. As a result, the mansion has had three primary owners: Bruce and Damian Wayne, as well as Alfred Pennyworth, the mansion's butler, now considered part of the family. Meanwhile, the others came and went on the grounds of the mansion. Holidays were one of the most important times when the whole family was finally together.

When Damian explained it to you in a simple way, despite not being a member of the detective clan, you could easily deduce how stressful it would be for your poor boyfriend to have the whole family at home for a week or two; so you offered to go and keep him company. Unfortunately, you never thought he would take you up on your offer.

It was the moment you found yourself on the huge bed in his room that you realized how stressful this situation would be for Damien. His face reflected incredible discomfort as he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips.

You couldn't help but feel assaulted by the fleeting physical beauty that young Wayne possessed. Aside from the fact that only a towel encircled his waist, leaving the line of defined abs completely exposed, every inch of his body with such masculine features stood out when he showered...and when he was in a bad mood.

In a bad mood as it is now.

He hadn't said a word since he came out of the bathroom. He just walked over to where you were lying and moved in until he was completely on top of you, so close that you could not even move your body without running the risk of brushing an inch of his skin.

Immediately, he moved closer until his lips reached the exposed skin of your neck. You longed for his warmth, but you were still afraid that someone might hear you with so many people in the mansion.

— Damian... someone might hear us — You told him quietly as you tried to pull his lips away from your face.

— That's not a problem... — He said, admiring you with his deep green eyes. — Only if you know how to keep quiet.

The seriousness of his words sent an electric current down your spine. Your heart pounded against your chest and quickened as you felt Damian's breath on your pants and soon the sound of the zipper coming down.

Not long after that, he was so deep inside you that he had to cover your lips with his hand to keep you completely silent.

You knew it was a bad idea. You did it mostly because Damian needed it to relieve his stress, but sooner or later the pleasurable sensation deep in your stomach that prevented you from making a sound would suffocate you.

A finger slipped between your wet lips to give you some kind of incentive. He slid his thumb around your throbbing clit, leaving you stunned and breathing fast, so close to cum that even the gentle touch began to feel sensitive.

Later, he moved the hand that was silencing your sounds away from your face, but when the air hit your lungs again, he came closer and stuck his tongue deep into your mouth and gave you an embracing kiss.

— Shh, it's okay, beloved. You can do this. — He murmured, admiring you with malice reflected in his eyes.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Azriel's Version)

Part One , Part 2

AN: "Majesty, Palo is exhausted. Because Majesty only Palo can take this (angst) and this (groveling) and give you...a masterpiece."

No fr guys I put my whole puss into this plz tell me if you liked it

check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: angst, fluff like so much fluff, no editing (I'm so tired omg)

Word count: 9,370

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened. 

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all. 

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today. 

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowing at my tear stained cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I laughed him off, wiping the water from my face. 

“I’m sorry I interfered like that, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak to him or if you wanted me to kick his ass. But he seemed mad and I wouldn’t stand for him yelling at you.” Lucien apologized leaning against the back of the couch a good three feet away sensing I needed some space. 

“I suppose that I wasn’t sure what I wanted either,” I sigh leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you for stepping in. I think it was for the best.” 

“Of course, I’ll always be there for you,” Lucien nods before resuming his staredown with the floor, probably trying to make sense of everything just like I was. “Az seemed…concerned for you. I think the bond snapped for him.” 

“It did,” I say, running my hand over my chest, as if I could touch the faint glow of the bond that now sat in my chest. “It clicked the moment he saw us in the kitchen.”

“Are you happy it clicked?” he asked, once again asking all the questions I truly didn’t have an answer for, at least not yet. 

“I-I’m not sure.” I say honestly, knowing I didn’t need to hide my true feelings from Lu. “I’ve pictured him finding out a million ways, but over the last couple years I’ve kind of given up on the whole endeavor. I felt like I made it clear that I liked him, and he only met me with complaints about other women. First Mor and then Elain.” 

“Maybe he’s changed,” Lucien pointed out. 

“Even if he had it’s not because he loves me.” I murmured sadly. “You heard him in there. He only wants me because he feels entitled to me. He never once acted like he cared about me beyond being his best friend's little sister.” 

“I suppose you’re right, it’s hard to forgive 400 years of cruel behavior,” Lucien muttered, still staring at that little spot on the floor. 

I strode across the room and leaned against the couch with him. I wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room in one foul swoop. I had just let out a 400 year old secret and for the first time ever, our mates seemed to give a damn about us. I look to Lucien who is still processing everything and I recall how Elain was so upset to see her mate with another female.

“Elain…” I started, wanting to tread carefully. “She seemed pretty upset,” I said, only stating the obvious. 

Lucien chuckled, “Yeah, I think that’s the first time she’s ever called me her mate.” 

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask wanting to give him the same room to speak that he gave me. I knew if he didn’t feel like sharing he wouldn’t, Lucien was no pushover. 

“I feel strangely happy,” he says and for the first time since we got back his lip curls into a half smile. “I think that she might be willing to give me a chance.” 

My heart warms at the idea of Lucien finally getting to have a chance with his true mate, “I’m really happy for you Lu,” I smile, patting his hand that sat on the back of the couch. 

He snaps out of his trance, “that’s not to say that you’re not- you’re a wonderful woman y/n-” he rambles. 

“Hey, HEY!” I shout getting his attention. “I’m happy for you Lucien. You deserve this,” I laugh at his attempt to not hurt my feelings. 

“Thank you y/n,” he smiles, grabbing my hands and squeezing them. 

“What do we do now though,” I sigh looking at his family ring on my finger. 

His eyes flit to the ring as well as his thumb brushes over it, “We continue on as normal, we can push back the wedding. I’m not confident in what Elain wants from me at this point and you clearly are at odds with Azriel. If things don’t work out…” he trails off thinking about hsi next words. “If things don’t work out I would still be honored to have you as my wife. I still feel like we could make eachother happy.” he says earnestly. 

I look into his eyes of russet and gold and see that he truly means every word, “Okay,” I nod my voice barely above a whisper. 

“Okay,” he agrees, keeping his voice down as well. “Shall we head to bed?” he asks. 

“We shall,” I laugh, following him up the stairs. 

That night we didn’t make love, we cuddled as normal though, but somehow even that felt wrong, now that the bond I prayed over for so long hummed within my chest.

 While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed. 

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book. 

“Just wait till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out. 

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me. 

 He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“You’re going to be a great mother one day” he admitted. 

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “Of course, I’ve always been fond of children myself,” he laughed. 

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Of course,” he assured me. 

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms. 

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause. 

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over.  I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, I always pictured them scaling Azriel when they were little like Nyx, and as they got older I would watch as Az taught them to fly.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance. 

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple. 

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

Feyre’s eyes sparkled at the sight of her son and Rhys eyes sparkled at the sight of Feyre taking their babe from my arms. I reluctantly gave Nyx back, already missing being able to pretend he was my own. 

“He was a little angel,” I report to Feyre.

“If by angel you mean hellion,” Lucien chuckles behind me. 

“I would expect nothing less from a child raised by this family,” Rhys laughed, wrapping one arm around Feyre and brushing a hand against his son’s cherub cheeks. 

A silence rolled over the room as we all watched the little family reunite. I couldn’t help but flit my eyes to Azriel, who looked at them with a grin and a longing in his eyes. His eyes find me and I don’t dare look away. 

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.  

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

Lucien releases his grip on my hip as I follow Azriel into Rhysand’s study and close the door behind me with a resolute click signaling that I was locked in here with him. Az takes up residence by Rhys’ desk, leaning against it like some sort of tortured man. I couldn’t help but notice he was still in his fighting leathers, his wings tucked in tight and his knuckles perched over his lips, like he was contemplating what to say. Even now, when he was at his most vulnerable, he was so beautiful. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. I yelled at you and I shouldn’t have,” he says fidgeting a bit. “Its just… it’s just that I was so pissed when I found him with his hands all over you and you just seemed so happy.” 

He sighs running a hand through his hair staring at the ground, still unable to meet my eyes. 

“I think that’s what bothered me the most,” he continues. “You seemed…happy.”

“You were upset because I was happy?” I scoff furrowing my brows at him, the fucking gall of this male. 

“No, no! Gods y/n,” he corrects me, running his hands down his face clearly upset with himself. “I think I was upset because I wasn’t the one making you happy.” he finally says and I can hear the vulnerability in his voice. 

I’m completely taken back by his words, at the fact that he admitted that he wanted to be the one to make me happy like that. The way Lucien did. It didn’t make any sense, given the fact that he never showed me in the last 400 years. 

“That’s funny coming from a male who’s been complaining to me about the females he’s been in love with for the past 400 years.” I deadpan, crossing my arms. 

“Is that how long you’ve known? 400 years?” he asked me, voice rising a bit. 

I nod, “I knew the night you danced with me on solistance in the Hewn City all those years ago,” I confess. 

“Fuck y/n,” he groans running his hands down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you started panting after Mor and the second you gave up on her in walked Elain!” I shouted, it was the most obvious thing ever as to why I didn’t tell him. 

“You had to know that you were first,” he says, snapping his head up to meet mine, pleading in those hazel eyes. 

I gave him a blank stare not knowing what he was talking about. 

“Please tell me you know you were the first, before Mor, before Elain, I was practically on my knees for you,” he confessed. 

Once again I’m left speechless. Could it be true? That he had wanted me before I even knew about the bond? 

I shook my head, even if it was true he was speaking in past tense. I didn’t want him to be my mate because he felt like he had to be, I wanted him to love me, truly love me. I wanted him to choose me.

“I had no idea,” I admit feeling a bit of shame. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, it’s all in the past. I’m not mad at you Azriel.” 

“Thank the cauldron,” he breathes, crossing the room to cup my face.

I place my  hands on his wrists and pull them away from me, “Az I think that you should be with Elain,” I say, stepping back from him. 

“What? No.” he shakes his head and I take another step back.

“You clearly love her and she loves you, the cauldron made a mistake by making us mates, it's as simple as that,” I say trying to hide my tears.

I loved Az, a part of me always would, but I wouldn’t be his consolation prize just because the cauldron fucked up and made me his mate instead of Elain. I couldn’t live with that. 

“No don’t say that, please don’t say that,” Az pleads, his voice softening. 

“I’m sorry Azriel but I won’t be your consolation prize,” I say before grabbing the door handle and walking out into the living room where Lucien was. 

Azriel goes to say more until he hears the hitch in my breath. There, before me, Lucien is tucking a stray hair out of Elain’s face and placing a kiss on her knuckles. A sweet gesture, one I’ve probably read about a thousand times in my romance novels. Lucien’s eyes flit to mine, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen him so happy. 

“We’re going to give it a shot,” he smiles happily, putting an arm around Elain. 

“Really?” I ask looking to Elain who smiles brightly. 

“Yeah we are,” she says smiling up at Lucien. 

“Oh I’m so happy for you two,” I cheer before engulfing them both in a hug. 

“Congrats you guys,” Azriel mutters from behind me, seemingly abandoning whatever he was going to say to me in favor of praising his friends. 

Lucien chuckles at my excitement, “Don’t get too excited, we’re going to have to move my stuff out of your place today, I think it’s time I move back into the townhouse,” he smiled. 

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get started!” I cheer, grabbing his hands to winnow us away. 

In reality I wasn’t excited about the idea of moving, and much less excited about the idea of my little townhouse being empty again. But I needed to get away from Azriel. 

One week later:

After the all day affair of moving Lucien’s accumulated stuff out of my house and in the townhouse I was back to loving alone. Which at first wasn’t terrible. I was content to read my book and cook for myself when necessary. But after about a week I began to miss the food Lucien would make, or having someone to lie next to. It was a strange feeling, it felt like a breakup, but I wasn’t sad. I missed having another heartbeat in the house, not Lucien himself. 

After a week of getting my affairs in order my brother finally asked me for some help and I was thankful for the distraction. All week I had been in my own head about all that had happened, with Lu and Elain, with me and Az. I needed a break to think of something else. 

That’s how I found myself slipping on an old day court dress and getting ready to winnow to see Helion, an old friend of mine. I was leaving the house and locking the door when I ran smack into a large chest I screamed being taken off guard. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” a familiar voice apologized, I turn to find Azriel standing before me. 

“It’s okay, I should’ve been paying more attention,” I chuckle awkwardly. I hadn’t heard from the spymaster in a week, why would he come to talk to me now?    

Azriel’s eyes furrow from where they tower over me, “Why are you dressed for the Day Court?” he inquires. 

“Oh well,” I look down at the swaths of white fabric that cascaded down my body, suddenly feeling a bit exposed from off the shoulder dress. “Rhys wants me to go and schmooze Helion a little bit. Something about wanting to get him to agree to better trade deals.” I laugh remembering how my brother agonized over it the other day. 

“So he wants you to go and flirt with Helion?” Az cocks an eyebrow at me. 

“Well Helion and I go way back, and he’s always been…well keen on me.” I say honestly and I watch as Az bristles just a bit. I can’t even count the number of times the High Lord as tired to get Cassian and I in his bed

“I’ll give Rhys one thing he sure is ruthless,” Azriel chuckles trying to play off his nerves. 

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask, still wondering why he’s here, at my doorstep. 

“Oh uh, no,” Azriel stutters. “Well actually I was walking by and I saw this and I thought of you.” he says pulling out a white rose. It looked like he had plucked it right off the bush down the street. “I thought you should have it.” he finished. 

I take the rose from his hand and notice that the thorns have all been cut off. I eye Truth Teller strapped at his side and the lingering thorn that was still stuck on its sharp blade. 

“That was very thoughtful of you Az thank you,” I tell him sweetly, taken back by his gesture. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, seemingly relaxing at my acceptance of his gift. 

I check my watch, “Well I really do have to go, Helion is waiting for me,” I wince moving past him on the stairs so I can get past the words my brother has on my place. 

“Yes of course,” Az says following me down the steps and out the wrought iron fence. “Do you need a ride?” 

“I’m okay, I can winnow,” I chuckle, closing the gate behind me. 

“Well I guess I’ll see you later then,” Azriel voices with a hint of a sigh. 

“Yeah I’m sure you will,” I reply before winnowing into Helion’s mansion. 

How could Az be so calm about all this? It was like he was trying to force himself to have feelings for me, figuring he better learn to love me now that he’s shackled to me for eternity. Part of me wondered if Rhys had given him a firm talking to and convinced him to attempt to like me.

“There she is,” Helion mused from the top of the stairs coming down the stairs dressed in his usual attire. Part of me hated that I found him attractive, in another life, if he wasn’t so promiscuous, I might’ve seen myself standing by his side. 

“Helion,” I smile, pulling him in for a hug. 

When we pull away his hands linger at my waist and his eyes look at the rose in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks plucking the rose from my hand. 

I think about the encounter with Azriel, how forced it all felt.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. 

Helion tosses the flower aside before throwing his arm over my shoulder and leading me inside, “So, your brother has sent you to convince me to agree to his new trade agreements.” he smirks.

“He’s done nothing of the sort, I came to visit an old friend of my own accord,” I tease, knowing Helion isn’t as daft as Rhys makes him out to be. 

“We’ll see about that new treaty after some wine, and tell your brother that next time he wants to use you against me as leverage he should just send you naked,” Helion chuckles. 

I erupt in laughter, slapping his arm as he leads us to a white couch with a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table. 

Three days later after successfully getting Helion to agree to a new trade treaty I found myself sitting in my living room with a glass of wine enjoying the fruits of my labors. As soon as I told Rhys about the High Lord of Day’s cooperation he sent me one of his finest bottles of wine as a thank you. Not that I required any thanks, I enjoyed spending time with Helion. 

My silence was interrupted by my door opening and closing. I just about jumped out of my skin, the only one who had the key to the place was Lucien and he had given it back a long time ago. My heart pounded as I stood from the couch in my nightgown and robe. I had turned in for the night and certainly wasn’t expecting visitors. I lift my romance novel over my head and step around he couch ready to swing when I see Azriel locking the door behind him quietly. 

“Azriel you scared the hell out of me,” I sigh, lowering the book. 

He turns from the door looking me up and down taking in my casual attire hungrily. “I’m sorry I guess I’m just used to walking right in, I wanted to give you these,” he says holding out a large bouquet of white roses, exactly like the kind he gave me the other day.”

“Thank you Az, they’re beautiful,” I say wearily, taking them from his scarred hands. “I’ll uh- I’ll just put them in water,” I tell him, padding into the kitchen to grab a vase and fill it. 

“I thought since you liked the other one I gave you that you might like those ones too,” he says walking into the kitchen and leaning in my doorway. 

I place the two dozen roses in a vase,“Well I appreciate them, it’s been a while since I’ve had fresh flowers in the house,” I divulge to him, remembering how Lucien used to bring them home all the time. He would always ask for Elain to make him a bouquet, his little way of speaking to her in a way that didn’t make her uncomfortable. The thought had me thinking of how Lucien and Elain were probably sitting at a nice dinner right now, had me questioning why the fuck Azriel was here. 

A silence fills the room as Azriel sits admiring either me or the flowers, from where I’m standing it could be either or. I walk around the kitchen island to test the theory and sure enough his eyes follow me as I lean my back against the side closer to him.  A wave of embarrassment slips over me. Did Rhys ask him to bring more flowers again? Was I really that pathetic? 

“Az why are you doing this?” I ask, gesturing to the flowers behind me. 

Azriel straightens taking a tentative step towards me, “Because I want what Elain and Lucien have. I want you to give me a chance to be a good mate,” he says softly. 

I look to the wooden floors below me, my bare feet messing with a loose floorboard, “You don’t have to do this Azriel. If Rhys sent you I’ll just cover for you and say you came.” I say not daring to look at him. 

“I’m not here because of Rhys, I’m here because I want to see you,” he implored and I heard his feet shuffle closer. 

“I’m still not your consolation prize just because Lucien and Elain are doing well. I won’t do that to myself,” I say, continuing to mess with the loose floorboard. 

“You’re not my consolation prize y/n, you’re my mate.” Azriel states, his voice becoming more urgent causing me to tighten my arms around myself ever so slightly. 

His boots come into my line of sight and suddenly he’s titling my chin up to meet his pleading gaze. I’m suddenly all too aware of how underdressed I was. There was a time when I would’ve killed for this. But now? I won’t let myself be hurt again.

“Y/n please-” 

“Azriel I’m at peace,” I snap, cutting him off and looking down at our feet once again even though his hand still rested under my chin. “For the first time in 400 years I’m at peace. I have loved, and pined, and thrown myself at your feet for 400 years, and I am finally happy in my exile. So forgive me if I’m hesitant to give that up so quickly because you all of the sudden want a mate.” I bit out.

His shadows dance around my hands and I move my fingers out of their grasp, like their cold kiss was burning me.I wait for him to say something back, for him to breathe wrong, yell at me or leave but he doesn’t move. I let my eyes flit up to his, and I find him staring down at me, like he’s been waiting for me to look at him this whole time. 

“I’m not going to give up,” he states, if he was sad or upset by my previous words he doesn’t show it. 

I sigh, tossing my head back, “Az please,” I beg. 

“No I’m serious, I’m not giving up on you, on us,” he maintained steadfastly, his hands not leaving my cheek as he steps even closer to me and my back hits the cool granite behind me. 

“Azriel I think you should go,” I grit out, the second my body stiffens under his he steps back giving me my space. 

“Alright I’ll go,” he says, taking a step back.

I follow him to the door and hold it open as he steps out into the cool night air that has me wrapping my silk robe around me tighter, as if it was helping anything anyways. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assures me before shooting off into the sky. 

“I really wish you wouldn’t!” I shout into the air after him before slamming the door and locking it. 

I take a deep breath once I’m seated on my couch again, trying to salvage any sort of peace I might still have. But that tranquility was disappearing in my hands the more I chased it. 

The following day I head to Rhys’ house to talk over the new adjustments in the Day Court trade agreements. It was supposed to be easy enough, but as things got more and more complex it ended up being an all day thing. By the time I walked up the steps to my own townhouse I was exhausted and starving. I wasn’t looking forward to bread for dinner as I had no time to go to the market today. 

I kicked open the door and locked it behind me, the smell of fresh tomatoes and basil wafted through the air causing me to pause in my tracks. Was Lucien here? Had him and Elain gotten in a fight or something?

“Ah shit!” I heard a male cuss followed by the searing of liquid on a burner. 

I curiously walk around the corner of the kitchen where I’m greeted with the sight of Azriel, standing in my apron, reading my cookbook and stirring some sort of sauce. His shadows were helping him turn the pages of the book. I see the spilled sauce on the burner that was the cause of his profanity just moments ago. 

“There you are,” he smirked, his eyes flitting up to mine before reading the book again. 

“Az what are you doing here?” I ask, setting my bag down on the table. 

“Making you dinner,” he said, gesturing to the numerous used pans and utensils lying around my once clean kitchen. 

I walk over to inspect what he’s cooking. Fresh herb crusted chicken cooks in the pan next to him while he stirs a red sauce. In the sink is cooked pasta sitting next to freshly sauteed green beans. I inhale the smell of the food deeply and I can’t help but feel myself salivate a little, it smells delicious. 

“You always dog ear the recipes you want to try but you never make them for fear of not liking them,” he says nonchalantly as he prods at the chicken. 

I look down at the cookbook he’s reading, sure enough the recipe he’s making has a bent corner. I had been itching to try it but had never found the time. 

“If you end up not liking it there’s take out from Rita’s in the ice box,” he said using the spoon to point to the ice box in the corner of the room.

I look up to fully inspect him. This all feels like a ridiculous practical joke. If someone had told me that my spymaster would be cooking me dinner I would’ve laughed in their face. Upon further inspection I realize he’s shirtless, save for my apron he’s wearing. 

“Was the half nudity necessary?” I cock an eyebrow leaning against the counter. 

Azriel barked out a laugh, “It took me a while to find the apron, I had gotten tomato juice on my shirt when I started chopping them up for the sauce so I took it off and washed it,” he explained the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Plus I figured the whole shirtless bit might win me more brownie points with you.” 

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, I didn’t dare let him know how right he was. 

He laughed at my reaction, “Why don’t you go sit down, dinner’s almost ready.” he said gesturing to the couch. 

I shrugged my shoulders and padded my way over to my favorite reading spot. The one he found me in yesterday. I plop down on the velvet sofa and there in front of me on the coffee table, my book has been left open to the place I bookmarked and a glass of wine sits for me. I raise an eyebrow but decide to just roll with it, I pick up the book and sip on the wine, becoming engrossed with the story.

A few minutes later I feel the cold begin to bite at my toes. I look around for a blanket and see that the nearest one is across the room. I curse at the idea of having to move, but before I can even set my book down one of Azriel’s shadows is scurrying across the room to retrieve the knitted blanket for me. The wisp of darkness arranges the blanket neatly over my legs, tucking me in like a mother would her child.  I can’t help but laugh at the care the little thing is putting into the job. 

Azriel’s shadows looking out for me was nothing new, the second the bond clicked for me they tended to stay near me. Picking up pens and silverware I dropped on the floor and always twirling around my hair and wrists. There were even times they would try to drag Az near me, like on starfall and solstice, nights I looked especially beautiful. But he would always curse and wave them off until they left him alone. 

The little shadow perched itself on my shoulder as if it too wanted to read my book. I could sense it was trying to anticipate any other small need I might have. 

“You know he might be insufferable but you guys are pretty great,” I laugh looking at the curious being. 

In response the shadow boops itself on my nose as if it was giving me a kiss. 

“Don’t tell them that or they’ll get a big head,” Azriel murmurs behind me where he’s leaning against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, still shirtless and wearing that damned apron.

“In that case I’ll be sure to praise them more often, they’re little angels,” I smile as the tendril of darkness dances around my collar. 

Azriel lets out a small chuckle behind me, “Dinner is ready,” he tells me before disappearing into the kitchen once more. 

I follow him as the small shadow frantically pulls at my wrist towards the table, as if it’s eager for me to see what it helped its master cook. When I walk into the darkened kitchen and find that Az has set the table not only with our dinner but with candles and another bouquet. This time it’s an arrangement of jasmine, no doubt from the florist down the street. 

I sit down and inhale the heavenly scent of the white flowers and hum in delight. Azriel comes in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring us each a bit. He sees me admiring the flowers and smiles. 

“Jasmine, like your perfume,” he says, putting down the bottle and taking his seat next to me. 

I smile and look down at the plate before me. It looks delicious, the pasta is fragrant with basil, the chicken is cooked to perfection and the green beans are vibrant and green. I lift my fork and dig into the past first. The moment it hits my tongue the flavor melts in my mouth, rich, bold and oh so savory. I let out a moan as my eyes flit to Azriel who is watching me expectantly wondering if I’m going to like it or not. 

“This is incredible,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand so he doesn’t see me chewing. 

“Thank the cauldron I thought I put too much red pepper in,” he breathes out, seemingly relaxing before digging into his own plate. 

“No it’s perfect, thank you really,” I say earnestly. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, taking a bite of chicken.

We sit and eat our meals in silence simply enjoying the good food. A little shadow flitted up in front of my face to gauge my reaction to the bite of chicken I was chewing. I couldn’t help but laugh as it shifted like it was cocking its head at me. 

“Yes it’s very good, you did a wonderful job,” I laugh at the little fella. 

My giggle brings Azriel’s attention to me once again and before I know it he’s waving his hand at the little tendril like he’s swatting a fly. 

“Hey go away let her eat for the love of god,” he chastises as the shadow slinks back behind him. 

“Don’t worry it wasn’t bothering me,” I laugh taking another bite of green beans. 

“Yeah well they haven’t been listening lately,” he says looking back at the little shadow that had slinked behind his shoulder like a reprimanded child. 

I shake my head at the two of them interacting and take another sip of wine. To be honest I wasn;t really sure what to say to Azriel. Despite his valiant efforts to win me I still wasn’t ready to abandon the peace I had grown so fond of. 

“You know it’s funny,” he tells me, playing with the food on his plate. “I feel like my shadows have always liked you. It was like they knew before I did,” he laughed nervously at his confession. 

“Maybe so,” I shrug, not wanting to broach the subject, the friendlier we could make this the better.

“I can remember times when they would drag me into any room that had you in it. Most of the time I control them, but when it comes to you? They control me.” he laughs while taking a sip of his wine. 

“Thank you again for dinner,” I say, forcibly changing the topic of conversation. “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal. I think the local restaurants have my to-go orders memorized now.” I laugh. 

“Lucein used to cook for you didn’t he?” Azriel asks, and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I play with the pasta on my plate. 

“Yeah he did, he was a surprisingly good cook too,” I say, recalling the traditional Autumn Court meals he would cook all the time. They were mostly for him, for when he was feeling nostalgic, but he always left some for me as well. 

Azriel sits for a moment as if debating whether or not to say something for a moment. “Did you love him?” he asks. 

My fork clatters to the plate at the abrupt question and I’ve never felt so put on the spot. It was never something I had thought about in regards to the autumn court male. Love seemed like an emotion  that would be reserved for Azriel and Azriel alone, until one day it wasn’t. I didn’t love Lucien, but I certainly stopped loving Az in that way, or at least I think I did.

“No I didn’t” I say honestly turning to meet the shadowsingers gaze. “Lucien and I… it was never like that. We both knew what we needed for each other, it started as just sex. But then he would stay the night, and then we started going to breakfast. His shirts started showing up in the laundry hamper, his books on the coffee table. Eventually I just gave him a key, it seemed like the logical thing to do. We didn’t even label our relationship until he asked me to marry him.” 

“I wasn’t sure,” Azriel said, going back to shyly staring down at the table. “I overheard your conversation that one day. When you asked him about the possibility of having children. You said that you always pictured your children having wings, was that true?” he inquired. 

I nod shallowly, unable to trust my own words in such a raw moment. 

If Az had any other questions he didn’t ask them or press me to talk about the two of us, it was as if he was happy with the answers I did give him. He was perfectly content to let me finish eating my meal in comfortable silence. When I was finished he cleared the table and didn’t let me lift a finger to help clean. Instead those pesky shadows cornered me into reading my book once more. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he came in, dressed in his shirt once more to bid me goodnight. He insisted that I stay in my comfortable spot by the couch as he walked himself out locking the door behind him. As the comfortable silence, which I had grown so used to, ensued, I found myself silently wishing he had stayed just a little longer.

The following weeks were spent with little visits from shadows and shadowsingers. Sometimes it would be Azriel showing up at my door with coffee or gifts. Other times, when Rhys had Azriel on missions he would find ways to leave things at my doorstep. The first time it was another bouquet of flowers and then chocolates. 

My favorite gift from Azriel had been the books. The first set he got me was the second and third book in my series. They appeared at my door the morning after he made me dinner with a note that read…

I noticed that you were almost done with your book last night so I went out to get you the second book. I noticed it was a short book so I got you the third in case you finished it in one day like you no doubt will. 

-Azriel

Of course he was right and I finished the second book by the end of the day. When I opened the third, and much longer book, to begin reading it a bookmark fell out and another note. 

I figured you might need a bookmark for this one.

-Azriel

He was right about that as well. 

The next book to be delivered was a classic romance with certain pages, and quotes underlined. His notes scribbled in the margins. Clearly he had taken the time to read the novel himself. When I saw the first annotation I expected his further notes to be corny or cheesy, but each one was well thought out. 

The most recent literally delivery was a small and short book about different types of flowers. Between each of the pages sat a live flower that corresponded with the page. It was possibly the most vibrant and beautiful bouquet I had ever seen and by far my favorite floral gift I had received. 

This week though things had been different. As the colder months were drifting in I started spending more time inside, reading by the fire. But not once had Azriel stopped by. Not a present, not a note to be found. When I subtly asked Rhys were the shadowsinger was he told me he was in the isle of Hybern. 

A week had come and gone without so much as a tendril of a shadow to be seen. I sat infront of my roaring fire with a book in hand trying to escape the bitter cold. Outside the first snowfall of the year had taken the form of a blizzard. I pitied the shopkeepers that would have to walk home in it. 

Around midnight I heard the scraping of metal against stone from outside my house. I jumped out of my skin and quickly looked at the clock noting the late hour. I set down my novel to wrap myself in a blanket and pad over to the front door. I could already hear the winds outside and feel the cold air seeping in through the cracks in the door. 

I open the door to investigate the strange sound and I nearly gasp when I find Azriel outside my house shoveling my walkway with a small shovel from my garden. One meant for digging out plants and trees, not snow. 

“Az what are you doing?” I ask, making the spymaster jump a bit. 

“I’m shoveling your walkway. I didn’t want you to slip tomorrow morning or hurt your back trying to shovel it yourself,” he said, digging into the snow again with the little metal shovel. 

“Oh Az you don’t have to do that,” I coo walking out into the cold pulling my blanket tighter. 

“I don’t have to but I want to,” he said shoveling more snow. “It wouldn’t take so long if I had a bigger shovel.” he grunts, frustrated.

“Well why didn’t you take Rhys’ shovel?” I laughed watching as the overgrown Illyrain tried to mangle the tiny thing. 

“Well I just got back from Hybern, I saw it had snowed and I came here first.” he explained and my heart swelled. He had come to my place first before he even went home. “I figured if I didn’t do it you would fall and break your head open.” 

“Azriel, really you don’t have to do this, I can handle it,” I plead with him feeling bad that he’s subjected himself to the weather. 

He stops his shoveling and turns to look at me, “y/n I want to do this. Don’t worry about it.” he says before looking me up in down seeing that I’m in nothing but a short nightgown and a blanket. “Now go inside before you catch a cold.” 

“Me? What about you?” I laugh looking around at the snow falling around us. 

“I’m Illyrian the snow doesn’t bother me,” he retorts and I can tell that he’s lying by the pink in his cheeks from the cold.

“Well I’m half Illyrian,” I counter, swinging back and forth on my heels. 

“Then I’m sure half of you is really cold,” he rebuttals. “Now go back inside and get warm before I carry you inside myself.” he smirks before shoveling up another heap of snow. 

I just shake my head and retreat to the warm fireplace awaiting me. 

I waltz into the House of Wind  where the Solstice party is in full swing. Lords from neighboring courts are chatting and drinking all around and from the corner of the room I can hear Cassian’s booming laugher as he doubles over at something Helion has said. 

Like almost every solstice party I arrive fashionably late. I truly never mean to be the last to arrive, but it feels like the whole guest list decides to arrive early just to spite me. I make my way around the area where couples and children are dancing to a small quartet and head toward the bar. My dress billows behind me like liquid starlight. Just like every solstice party before this one, I will get by with copious amounts of wine. 

I lean against the bar and watch as Elain and Lucien laugh and giggle across the room. I smile as Elain pops a pastry into Lu’s mouth and I can’t help but feel a warmness in my chest at the two of them. Lucien was finally happy with his mate, and if there was ever someone who deserved such happiness it was him. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a shadowy friend making its presence known. Flying up by my face to say hello and then rushing behind me as if it was called. I turn to see Azriel dressed immaculately staring at me. His eyes flit up and down my body taking in every detail of me.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head, as if the words he was going to say wouldn’t be the right ones. “There are no words. Even the poets would get it wrong.”

I can’t help but blush at his choice of words, taking a step toward him as the shadows behind me are pushing me to do so. 

“You clean up pretty good yourself, spymaster,” I chuckle giving him a once over.

He blushes and then speaks again, “I mean it, you look beautiful tonight y/n.” 

I blush again and turn my head to avoid his gaze, like that shade of hazel might burn me from the inside out if I look too long.

“You must allow me to dance with you,” he says, taking both our drinks and placing them on the bar. “Not having you out on that dance floor would be a disservice to everyone here.”

I laugh taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor, “Alright Az you’ve convinced me, but only because I know you won’t step on my feet,” 

We fall into a comfortable motion, swaying back and forth to the slow tempoed song the quartet is playing. The couples around us filter around us, some lost in deep conversation, some embraced closely swaying to the song. I keep my eyes on them, knowing that Azriel’s gaze is on me. 

Memories of a solstice much like this one float through my mind. The way my feet ached before Azriel saved me, sweeping me up into a dance. The way the bond felt when it snapped into place for me. I had pulled on it so desperately hoping he might feel it too. I thought of all the years of agony that followed that night. Watching Az fall for Mor and later on Elain. Hearing my brother and Cassian talking about Azriel’s exploits in bedding local women. All of it tore me apart and it took over 200 years to rebuild the part of me that I had lost. I wondered if I would ever be whole like that again. 

I hear Elain and Lucien’s laughter once more, the sound breaking me from my thoughts as Azriel and I continue to sway to the music. 

“They make a great couple,” Azriel’s deep voice rumbles through me. 

I smile watching Lucine place a kiss to his mates lips, “They really do,” I say with a lightness to my voice. 

“Do you think we’ll ever be like that?” He asks tentatively and my world comes crashing down. 

“Az,” I say and his face falls at the dismissal in my tone. 

“Why not y/n? Why can’t we have a shot like they can?” Azriel says starting to get upset.

As if on queue the song that the quartet is playing ends and I hear the musicians flipping through their sheet music to find the next song. I pull my hands out of Azriel’s and take a few steps back.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I say calmly, trying not to let the damn of tears break. I swiftly move past him towards the door. 

“Y/n wait!” I hear him call out behind me but I’m already out the door, my tears falling down my face as I make my way back to that empty townhouse in the middle of the city. 

The rain outside my house slams into the window violently. Spring has come early in Velaris and I wasn’t exactly upset about it. At least I wasn’t until this torrential downpour blew into town. I hadn’t seen rain like this in the Night Court for at least a hundred years now.

It’s been weeks since solstice and it seems that Azriel has finally taken the hint and left me alone. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since that dance. Not a flower, chocolate or shadow to be seen and while I should be happy about it I had never been sadder. After all the walls I put up trying to keep my peace it seemed that he had succeeded in breaking them down again. 

I sat by the fire staring down at the dancing flames, no book, not even a glass of wine or tea. Just me and my all consuming thoughts. Each one of them led back to hazel eyes and blue siphons. 

I jump at the sound of a fist pounding on my door. Pulling my sweater tighter to cover up my nightgown I walk over to investigate who would have the guts to stand out in this monsoon at this hour. When I open the door I find Azriel bracing his arms against the doorframe, out of breath like he ran here. His hair soaking wet and sticking to his brow as the rain pelted him. 

“Az?” I shout over the sound of rain. 

“I can’t go on like this any longer y/n, I won’t do it!” he shouts over the storm. 

“Az it’s pouring what are you-” 

“I love you y/n!” he shouts stopping me mid sentence. “From the moment I met you I knew. I wanted so badly to put my hands around your waist and kiss you. And if you’re wondering why that seems like such an adolescent dream it’s because that’s what we both were. I was 117 years old and  you were 115 and that’s all I wanted. I knew little of love, even less of lust. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss you,” he hollers over the sound of rain wiping the water from his eyes.

“I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt you, but I swear to you I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, because I love you. And I don’t care that you don’t love me too, because I love you y/n. I choose to love you!” he finishes and I can’t tell if it's rain falling from his eyes or tears that match my own. 

I choose to love you.

I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek. 

He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper. 

He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”

I pull him in deeper at the utterance of those two little words. I had waited 400 years for this male to kiss me, and this kiss right here? Well it made everything all the more worth it. 

Epilogue: 5 years later

I stand outside on the lawn of the townhouse. My arms clutching around the sweater I’m wearing as the fresh spring air blows over my skin. My hands drift lower to the small bump of my stomach. 

I was only a few months pregnant and barely starting to show. Elain had told me that it would be a girl claiming she had seen it in a vision. I couldn’t have been more excited for Azriel to be a girl dad. 

“You’re doing it son!” I hear my mate call from the sky where he teaches our son to fly. 

“Dad, I'm flying!” the onyx haired child shouted as he flapped his wings to pick up some speed.

At first I was apprehensive of him learning to fly so early, even though it had always been a dream of mine to watch my children learn to fly. But Azriel had assured me that the youngster was more than ready, and after a few weeks of lessons here he was taking to the air like a natural. 

I look around at the townhouse behind me. It had seen some significant changes since the night Azriel stood in the rain and told me he loved me. The front yard was littered with toy swords and shields, and the outside had a fresh coat of paint. The inside had a room addition, a room for our son, Kai, and now we're adding another room for our daughter. All paid for by Rhys of course who was more than happy to give his nephew and niece everything under the sun.

My thoughts are interrupted by Azriel slamming into the ground before me. I turn to see him walking over to me with a smile on his face. 

“Az shouldn’t you be up there with him?!” I fuss looking to where our son swoops and dives through the air. 

Azriel laughs and picks me up bridal style, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“It didn’t feel right being up there without my girls,” he smiled nodding to my bump. 

Without warning he took off into the sky meeting Kai up there. We must’ve spent hours flying around the city, stopping by every uncle and aunt's house to show them Kai’s new skill. Everything was perfect, and for the first time in my whole life, I finally knew peace.

(Do you guys want a smutty bonus chapter of what they did after he confessed his love???)

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[damiansgoodgirll]

HIIIIIII I saw you're Damian and Rhea x reader that you just posted AND I HAVE A IDEA (No rush I'm just sending it so I don't forget)

OKAY SO in the same universe as the previous fic what if backstage on Monday night raw finn starts trying to convince the reader to join the new judgment day (bc he obviously still cares for the kid) like trying to get jd or Dom to guilt trip them or even getting liv Morgan to be buddy buddy since reader had trouble making friends.

But the reader STAYS LOYAL to the terror twins 🖤

running to write this because i love it, here’s part one

the judgment day x reader (platonic) , mention of drew mcintyre

‼️finn being a good manipulator lol, family issues, fear of abandonment, angst, reader feeling insecure, brief mention of suicidal thoughts (sorry it’s a little angst)

don’t break my heart - part 2

you lied if you said that you slept the night right after summerslam. no, you were in your hotel room watching the ceiling over and over, thinking of what was going to happen now. damian and rhea made sure to stay with you a few hours after the show, helping you calm down and making sure that you would eat something.

but they were tired and angry, so you perfectly understood when they waved goodbye and went to their rooms. they needed time to think and to cool off.

5 am and you were up to board on your next flight that didn’t leave until noon. you were living off on caffeine and sugar drinks but you didn’t care. you had no idea what was going to happen on monday night raw because you weren’t supposed to have any matches that night, you knew you would go with rhea and damian but you didn’t know what your future was going to be.

once you landed and you checked in into your new hotel room, you received a text from finn, saying to let him know once you arrived at the arena because he wanted to talk to you.

you drove along with rhea and damian and they both sensed your fear as you kept quiet, “you okay there?” damian asked you.

“uh?” you woke up from your trance.

“dam asked if you were okay, is everything okay y/n?” rhea added turning to face you.

“oh yes, i’m okay, just a lil nervous…” you hated lie to them, you hated lie in general but you couldn’t tell them that you were about to meet with finn. they would probably get mad at you and the last thing you wanted was to have your best friends hating on you too, so you kept it for yourself.

damian kept driving, knowing that eventually you would open up to them when you were ready.

once at the arena you waved them goodbye and went straight to your changing room. rhea told you to get ready in case something happened and if she needed your help so you did as she told you.

you texted finn and told him he could come over if he needed to talk to you so bad and not even 10 minutes later you heard a knock on the door.

“come in…” you screamed and he let himself in.

“hey…”

“hi” you couldn’t deny that the situation was awkward. you stood there for a couple of minutes before he could talk.

“listen…y/n i’m so sorry for everything that happened at summerslam” he apologized to you but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.

“you lied to me finn…”

“and you lied to damian and rhea because i’m pretty sure they don’t know i’m here” he smirked at you and that look made you sick in the stomach.

“are you here to threaten me? are you to destroy the little family i have left? what do you want finn…i have no time for more bullshit, please” your voice sounded broken and finn hated himself for the way he treated you.

“i know…i’m so sorry for everything and you have to believe me…i’m not sorry for damian or for rhea because i got tired of being their little puppy, dominik too…but i have nothing against you, never have, never wil…i care about you y/n…don’t you remember all the things we shared? all the things we’ve went through?”

and you couldn’t lie to him. you will always remember how kind and patient and caring he has always been with you.

he was the first person you told about your past, even before telling damian and rhea. he was the one who held you while you cried when you told him about your thought of ending your life. he was the one who comforted you and made sure you never felt left out. and he was true when he said you’ve been through a lot because he was always there for you.

but so were damian and rhea so you couldn’t understand why was finn telling you all of that.

“why are you here finn?” you simply asked him, his way of bringing back memories made you feel guilty. seeing how much you depended upon someone made you realize that you probably were better alone than with someone.

“i want you to join us…”

“join who?”

“me…y/n, me, dom, jd and liv…listen, i know you and i know damian and rhea and they will leave you at some point…they are both chasing vengeance and power, they want their titles back, they won’t be with you forever and, i’m sorry to say it but they won’t take care about you forever…you saw the way rhea treated dom or the way damian treated jd…” his words were starting to impress in your head “jd kinda likes you” he chuckled “no, i’m pretty sure he has a crush on you…and listen, liv is really a friendly person, i know you don’t like her right now but i promise you, if you get to know her you will like her more…just give us a chance”

maybe he was right.

maybe you would ended up being alone one day and he was right about that damian and rhea had their own lives apart from you. hell, rhea just got married, maybe she would like to start a family one day…maybe finn was right.

finn always cared about you, he proved it many times so why were you afraid of trusting him?

“i-i…i don’t know finn…” your mind started to overthink. you were feeling overwhelmed and despite you still loved finn, despite you still caring for him, you couldn’t betray damian and rhea.

“listen i-…”

“no finn, you listen to me. how can you expect me to choose between you or them? how-how can you tear this family apart like this? because maybe for you it was nothing but for me…for me it was everything…” tears slowly falling down your face.

finn knew that it was wrong putting you in all of this mess. he knew that no matter what he still would have a space for you in his heart but the idea of choosing them instead of him made him feel useless, like somehow he failed you.

“i can’t choose between you or them because you are the ones who broke this group apart…” more tears falling from your eyes “i-i can’t finn…i can’t” and before he could say anything else, you turned to face the door and quickly left your changing room.

drew noticed you walking down the arena corridors with teary eyes and no matter how many time he called you, your mind couldn’t register any sound or noise. it felt like you couldn’t hear anything except your heart beating in your chest.

i just saw y/n crying and going towards the emergency exit of the arena. finn balor just came out of her changing room. don’t know what happened but she seems overwhelmed, she needs you.

drew texted rhea. he was pretty worried when he saw in what state you were in. he knew that even if he chased you, you probably would have just pushed him away. he knew something about your past and he knew how the other females in the roster would give you “the looks” and honestly he felt for you, he just wanted you to feel welcomed because for him, the wwe was just a big huge family. he knew that you needed time, that’s why he warned rhea.

when she read the text, she felt her heart missing a few beats.

“what?” damian asked a little concerned when he saw the look on her face.

she was still a little shocked “drew texted me…he saw finn leaving y/n’s changing room and he said that when she left she was crying…she’s probably going’s back to the hotel, he said she’s going outside”

that was all damian needed to hear before leaving rhea’s changing room and sprinting over the emergency exit. rhea following behind, making a note to thank drew later.

they both saw you sitting on the emergency stairs and slowly they both approached you.

damian sat in front of you while rhea sat next to you “hey angel…” rhea slowly turned your face towards hers “why are you crying beautiful?”

in that moment you saw it in their eyes.

they cared.

they cared like a family.

rhea was about to cry because she couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you upset.

“finn wanted to talk to me…he, well, he basically offered me a spot to join him alongside with dom, jd and liv…” you said. you feared that they would get mad but rhea’s eyes told you the opposite.

“and what did you say?” damian asked you, gently smiling at you.

“that i can’t…i can’t leave you, i can’t even look him in the eyes, it just hurts too much and i can’t have you hate on me too” you softly spoke.

damian looked at you and saw nothing but pure intentions “y/n…we could never hate you. we know how close you and finn are, and i know it hurts right now so we won’t forbid you to see him again if you want to…”

“but i can’t damian! it doesn’t feel right, it’s not right! i’m not turning my back on you, i would never do that…you guys mean so much for me and i can’t stand the idea of losing you or hate you but…but finn said some things that made me think…”

“what did he say sweetheart?” rhea gently asked.

“well, for instance, rhea you just got married…and i can’t hold you back for the rest of my life just because my head is a fucking mess, you have your life and i don’t want you to feel the need to look after me forever…same goes for you damian, i can’t depend on you for the rest of my life…”

“that’s absolute nonsense y/n” damian said and rhea agreed with him. she was mad with finn for playing those mind tricks with you, knowing exactly that your mind wasn’t in the right place and that you would get negative thoughts very easily.

“listen” damian spoke “we are a family okay? we stay together, now, tomorrow and in ten years okay? just because we have a life outside this company doesn’t mean that you’re not a part of our life outside of it okay? we stay together instead and outside…i love you like you are my own sister, fuck you could be my daughter y/n…” damian joked making you laugh.

“damian’s right” rhea held your hands “we stay together because we care about you, now and in a million years…”

“thank you for everything guys…” you smiled at both at them.

“you don’t have to thank us love…” rhea wiped some of your tears away “now, why don’t you help me getting ready uh? tonight’s gonna be a big night and i want to look perfect” she laughed making you laugh too.

“yup” you smiled and with their help you got up from the uncomfortable stairs.

rhea mentally noted to thank drew and to kick finn’s ass because he made you doubt yourself, and most importantly, he made you cry.

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

okay so what about part 3 with reader and drew getting to know each other and developing feelings for each other and damian and rhea acting like big parents to reader?

PART 3

[running-with-kn1ves]

(if you still write plssss I just love your stories) What about a yandere omega male obsessed with the gentle alpha female reader from another clan...and alpha female reader was different..she's not demanding,always patient, gentle and respectful...and sometimes loves cool quiet places ....and he's even more obsessed that it's his mate...but the problem is...she doesn't want a mate cause it's terrifies her cause she doesn't want to be a horrible person cause she's an alpha female cause she might get misunderstood....so ....the yandere omega is very very manipulative and very knows how to guilt trip her to making her mind and take her to bed s3x.....

A/N: For some reason this spoke to me. Very little proof read so I apologize if the smut doesn't make much sense or I get common a/b/o knowledge wrong lmao.

CW: Drink spiking, alcohol, yandere omega, AFAB alpha reader, smut, sex from behind, physical violence.

Synopsis: An omega keeps harassing you, begging you to be his mate. It isn't until one night when you're off your game, does he "win you over."

"C'mon, won't you humor me a little bit," the omega's eyes widened in hopeful desperation, a small smile quirking up from the tip of his mouth. "Just one, please?"

"Will you bug off already? I already said no, I've got my own. Go find someone else to pester."

"But you're nearly finished, hm?" He taps on your glass, looking up at you from against the table. He just barely met your height, but from the way he crouched on the barstool, running a ring around your cup with his finger, he embraced his place from below.

"I promise, just a drink and I'll let you be."

Your migraine grows; whether it be in the office, from your windows, or here at your only safe space-- the bar outside your apartment, he's antagonizing you wherever you go. Just a drink, he pleads. Just some coffee or a short dinner-- anything to get you to agree to be "his." His alpha, the bearer of his children “who'll be well taken care of,” he promises.

You've grown tired and irritated, your usually calm and civil demeanor relenting after a couple drinks. But still, your instinct to be kind to those weaker than you, to protect the fly currently stopping you from enjoying your solitude, kicks in.

"Fine," you give up. "Just one. Then please, will you stop trying to convince me? I'm not looking for a mate, and the more you bug me the less willing I am to accept your offer."

To you, the offer was pretty much off the table. But he was so persistent, influencing the idea to cross your mind more than once.

He lit up, grabbing the bartenders attention with a snap and tap on the bar. Despite the harmless, awkward body language he gave off, he wasn’t as “puppy-like” as most omegas appeared. Sure, there was that cuteness he tried to use to appeal to you, but it wasn’t as helpless as he tried to play it to be. He was using his charms as best as he could, licking his lips and using the new line of pheromone-reacting cologne you had heard so much about from your coworkers. Sometimes, you smelled your fellow alphas using it, trying their best to attract a mate, as if they didn’t already have an overpopulation of omegas flocking to their side. 

“I’m Lane, by the way.” the flirty omega said, a new cocktail in his hand as he swirled its straw. It was awfully thick for some tequila and fruit juice, the color almost turing an off-white and red. 

“I know.” You sighed, wondering how he could’ve thought you forgot his name after so many advances. Maybe it was just another attempt at riling up your inner instincts to find an mate, to repeat his name in your mind. 

“And I know you, of course,” He slyly moves forward, pushing the drink closer to you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, lovely. Why so? Have you found a different omega to share your time with?” 

You hated how he spoke so plainly, how you were an alpha, how he was an omega, how everyone else-- no matter their standing-- was a threat or an outsider. 

You take a sip of the drink to appease him, wordlessly hit with a taste you could smell from a mile away. 

You tried not to spit it out, to be polite, to avoid the anger bubbling in your liquor-swishing stomach. 

“No. I’ve been busy, working. You know, trying to make a living, to support myself. What is it that you’ve been doing besides harassing me?” 

You didn’t know what exactly it was-- with the amount of inventions created these days to induce heat, to heighten pheromones, to attract a mate-- you knew it was something extracted with his fragrance, the essence of his identity as an omega-- to bring out the inhumane, animalistic need inside of you to protect and keep him for yourself-- to choose him, like he had done you. Just as he wanted. 

You could avoid the constant, offputting stench he covered himself in to make your inner nature hungry-- but this, the drug, or the... Part of him, that you didn’t want to think about, that was inside of you now-- was enough to drive you mad. 

His cheeks were a bit red behind their tan tint, resting on his knuckles as he looke up at you, so enraptured in your presence. He liked hearing you talk even if it was at his expense. 

You wanted to choke him, shove him against the pool table in anger for spiking your drink with something so crude. Yet, you could do nothing but keep your mouth shut, suffocating on his smell, on the feeling between your thighs and the need to find an omega, quickly. 

But alphas didn't go home with omegas without there being strings attached-- one night stands with your own kind was fine enough, but it wasn’t as satisfying as you know it could be. 

You put your head in your hands, pushing away the drink. One sip was enough to take you to hell. You should’ve been meaner to him, less tolerant. 

“You know, I don’t know why you’re so hesitant to find a mate. With your mother pressuring you, your coworkers almost entirely paired up-- you think it’d be about time.”  Lane’s hand slides to your shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle back and forth. 

“How do you know about that?” You groan from behind your arms, hardly phased by how much he knows about your life. Well, after three months of harassing you, he was unlikely to stay at just a distance. 

“I hear around! They’re worried about you, you know. Wondering if you’ll keep suppressing yourself during rutting season, how you’ll handle this, season… its only weeks away; are you going to keep using blockers?”

“It’s none of your business,” You sigh through your teeth, grinding them together between words. “I don’t.. I can’t handle having an omega in my life. You don’t understand what it’s like-- to be me. I’ll hurt them, I can’t be around anyone.”

You put a palm over your eyes, breathing through your mouth. Maybe you can last it out, if you could just get out of here. 

Lane jumps at the sound of that-- he’s heard your fears, seen them written on your face and through your bedroom window. He’s practiced a million times in situations like this to convince you-- that you aren’t as scary as you think you are, that even if you were, he would handle it all. He would take care of you like no other mate. It was what he was made for. 

“My love, oh-- you don’t even understand. Even if you were too, well-- rough, I’d never leave your side. I’m not afraid of you-- i’m not like the other omegas that’ve tried to capture your attention. With their weak, doe eyes, you’d massacre them-- I know it. But me, I can handle all of you, I promise.”

Lane sounded so earnest, a hopeless romantic’s authenticity dripping from his voice. He didn’t care if he had to play into your fear-- it was unlikely he’d ever be able to completely alter your esteem anyway. Atleast now, he could make you believe that he could hold all of you. 

You looked to the corner of your eye, watching how confidently he believed in his words. You weren’t quite sure if he was right, if anyone was stable enough to take how needy and protective you’d be as their alpha. You’d seen those who nearly break their mate, yet stay with them in an attempt to cure their loneliness. You couldn’t handle being like that. 

Lane took your hand away from your face, bringing it up to his. 

“You call for me… I know it, just as my body and soul long for you.. Won’t you do whats right, won’t you let two soulmates be together?” 

He lets his tongue peak between his plump lips, licking at the salty ridges of your palm, closing his eyes in bliss. 

He’s never managed to get this close to you before, your guarded nature always so skittish, so alert and defensive.

“Lane,” You huff, stumbling out of the barstool. You didn’t have the capacity to argue with him, to throw his pheromone-ridden drink in his face. If you didn’t get home now, you’d be long gone. It would be a rough night, but you couldn’t let your instincts get the best of you, not when they could make you hurt someone. 

“I’m..leaving. Don’t follow me--you’ll regret it, please.” 

You grab your jacket and bag, thinking twice about slamming back the rest of your bourbon. But it was better to be as clear-headed as you could; you’ve never been hit this hard with such a need before, except when you had your first rut as a late teen.

This though-- this was targeted at a specific individual. The omega who wanted you, who played with your impulses by injecting his own into the mix. You had to get away, lest you succumb.

Your eyes were hazy and dark as you pushed through the chiming door, out into the wet street of musty asphalt. 

Two blocks, thats all you had to cross. Then, you’d be free to writhe in bed and do your best to suppress the reaction inside of you. 

“Wait!” You heard Lane stumble behind you, only making you walk faster. “You can’t leave yet, let’s just talk!”

He struggled to keep up with you, stamina and legs far shorter than your own. Outside of the bar, in the streetlights and misty fog he was taller, almost… ominous. You would be more on edge if he wasn’t just a pathetic omega searching for your attention. 

You felt better in the cool air, away from his smell filling up the bar, but now he came back to haunt you, stuffing up your nose and throat with such a sweet, suffocating musk. 

You bent over, almost ready to gag at how hard you were trying to swallow your drool. 

“Are you okay?” He hugs your side, a hand on your back for comfort.  

Resting your palms on your knees you watch as he comes forward to bend down, pulling hair away from your eyes. He was warm, warmer than you, covered in whiffs of that pheromone cologne, letting it blind you in waves as you try to not breathe. But it was growing inside of you, you couldn’t get away with both his hands coming down to wrap around your wrists. That bigger, hungrier part of you didn’t even want to; It was grander than your insecurity, growing larger than your rational humanity. 

If you had the strength to hold back anymore, you could launch him 10 feet away from you. But you didn’t want to. You had to, to get away, to spare him from what he didn’t know-- but you wouldn’t. 

You watch the breath come from Lane’s mouth, letting his glasses get covered in a foggy film. He was so stereotypical, so obviously desperate to be taken care of and needy for a big bad alpha to keep him safe, to raise her pups. 

You moved in, just an inch, just to inhale that scent from his tongue. It was enough for Lane-- enough to make his smile break wide. He couldn’t hide it; it was hard to keep his ecstasy at bay when you were wrapped around his finger. So much work, so many efforts to capture you, and it was finally coming to fruition. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home. Your apartment’s this way, right?”

Of course it was this way, was there any need to pretend anymore? But he couldn’t help it, he was so used to acting undercover for you, to get you off your guard. 

You’re too sickly, going green as he lets you wrap an arm around his shoulder, hardly able to move your jellified legs forward. You wanted to pounce so badly, to mark him in that alleyway--  but maybe, he’d do you a kindness, and leave you to your own devices in your apartment, keep himself away like you told him he should. 

“You’ve… got to go--” You hiccup back a gag, feeling that sweet burning turn into a twisted ache, the desire that was once sort of pleasurable, now a great pain. 

“I can’t do that, I won’t leave my alpha all alone on the street. You won’t even be able to make it home if it wasn’t for me. That stuff will render you paralized, you know.”

“The, drink..?”  You push back another wave of nausea, stopping for a second to collect your senses. But there was nothing left to collect, you were all over the place, and you wouldn’t be better until the thirst was quenched. 

He grinned a tad, having waited for you to bring it up. Lane was sure you’d realize it was tampered with as soon as he pushed it toward you. But really, he expected you to push back more, to be smarter and slide it away. But you were too polite, almost gullible in a sense. 

Lane avoided the question, lifting your chin with the hand that wasn't keeping you standing. 

“Ah look, home sweet home.”

The lamp in your apartment window dully illuminated its open blinds. You could see directly into your bedroom, sloppily made bedsheets and clothes strewn across the floor. How many times had a stranger seen you hunched over your computer, or changing after a shower?

You swallowed back the salivation on your tongue, desperately trying to ignore the hot hand Intertwining itself into yours. You didn't have to be psychic to know Lane must've peaked through this window a dozen times from the way he eyed it so familiarly. 

His awareness of where your apartment sat, down to the floor and door number, was nauseating.

You stumbled with labored breaths, turning instinctively to the elevator, down the end of the hall. Lane turned with you, practically leading the way with skips of anticipation. 

You were bombarded with “how are you doing's?” And “just a little longer, my sickly mate” as Lane tortured you with pet names and brushes of his knuckles against your forehead. You were sweating now, heaving as your clothes felt too tight and your skin too sweltering. 

He had forced you to choke on his scent, to make your belly sting and throb unbearably, with each soft, caring, omega-like touch, always making sure his neck or wrists were in tasting view. 

The door to your apartment swung open, despite your head too foggy and pounding for you to search for your keys. Lane held a pair of something jingling in his hand, and you wondered If it was your messy keyring, or his. 

“There we go…” he cooed, shushing your panting as you stumbled against the couch.  “It's late, don't want to upset your neighbors, baby.”

“I'm home..” you gasp to yourself, trying to shuffle to the back bedroom, thanking the heavens that Lane’s scent was drifting farther away. That five minute walk home was hell, a hell you didn't realize you were in until you were out. 

The light peeking from the outer hall diminished, apartment door clicking shut and deadbolt sliding in with a lock. 

Now, only Lane and your breathing filled the air, the AC unit quietly humming-- yet doing nothing to cool the prickling burn of your skin. Your body was wracked with waves of fire now, only calming when Lane was near. You thought the burning was worse when he stood close to you, but with the omega’s body heat begin to drift away, your knees began to buckle. 

A hand in the dark from out of nowhere pulled you to the back of your apartment, across the kitchen and past the bathroom, into your dimlit bedroom. Even without his hand, you could’ve followed Lane’s overpowering smell covering every surface of your home. 

“You don’t look so hot; come lie down, okay?” 

Just lying down, taking a breather, it sounded so harmless. But what kind of person drugs you with pheromone enhancers, only to bring you home and let you “lie down?”

You feel for your bed with numb fingers, your bedsheets adorned in yellow light from your second-hand lamp. Lane picks up your foot as you sink into the bedsheets, untangling your shoelaces and slipping the sneaker off. He does the same to the other, placing your legs onto the end of the bed. 

Your head was a disaster, a mix of spinning sights of your room and drifting thoughts. 

“Ugh.. make it stop--” You covered your mouth, preventing from gagging any harder. Maybe throwing up would be a good thing, you could get this bitter-sweet flavor out of your mouth, and the cause of your suffering to release you. 

“I can make it stop, my mate.. you know what we need to do,”

“No--” You choke back your drinks from tonight “Anything but that-- I already told you…” Lane pushes a sweat stricken piece of hair from your forehead. “M’not looking for a mate..” 

Your legs curl up instinctively as your stomach begins to tighten, beneath your jeans beginning to cramp painfully. 

“Mayhaps not… but, you need one, no? To end this? To take care of you right now?” Lane can’t help but watch you, rubbing your hip as you bury your head into a warm pillow. His whispers make the hairs on your neck go cold, standing straight. “Just tell me yes, and all this can go away. You’ll feel okay. Better, even.” 

You go quiet. How long can you endure this? You won’t be able to go into work tomorrow, and your weekend plans are likely ruined. This isn’t just some overnight, rut-mimicking elixir… you can feel it, it’s altering your ability to think and speak. The last time you avoided using suppressors alone, you were bedridden for a week. This is different; this is attacking your instincts, erasing what control you had over yourself left. You could already sense the frustration and anger rising. 

What if it didn’t go away after tonight? Could you... Stop yourself from attacking someone? From grabbing that omega two floors down, so vulnerable and alone in their one-bedroom, rickety apartment? The landlord won’t come for another week…

Lane, as if his gut didn’t already speak to him to obey an alpha, wouldn’t go against your desires despite how close he was to tying you to him forever. You were his mate, and he wouldn’t let your relationship start off so sourly. He watched your eyes go dark, heavy breathing grow animalistic as something inside you was no longer holding you back. He wanted your permission, needed it, craved it.

“Just nod your head… I’ll do the rest. I’ll make it end, and you won’t have to come to this empty house alone anymore. We’ll start our family--”

You nod your head, cutting off his meaningless rant. Its short at first, a mix between yes and no, before you furiously grip the mattress, drawing blood from your lip.

“Just do it,” You bite, trying not to focus on whatever he was spewing on about. You were stuck underwater, getting farther beyond reason the longer you stared at his forearms. His rolled sleeves exposed naked skin, the heat of his other hand and its back pressed to your cheek.“Before I rip you to pieces.”

Lane was swift to your backside, fingers grooving to get stuck at your hips. You didn't have the ability to see his gleaming eyes through your hazy ones. But an alpha didn't need to rely on their sight to sense prey in the dark. 

He was enthralled, hot breath against your muggy neck. He became quick to completely press up against you on his side, mimicking the direction of your body as the lump in his pants were ground further between your legs from behind. His crotch was forced against yours, bringing a pained bliss. But it wasn't enough to quell the burning inside of you. 

“Yes…yes,” he huffed, disbelief in his voice to accompany shaking fingers. 

It took him a solid three tries before Lane managed to pull your pant zipper down to its base, tugging your jeans to the floor unceremoniously. It wasn't sexy, but the lust perspiring in the room made your salivation drip to the pillow beneath your head. 

“Be patient love, please. I promise, you'll feel so good--”

You felt him slowly slide your undergarments, too slow. The growl you released was one you had never heard come from your mouth before-- or anyone, for that matter. Even other alphas during their ruts, pissed at every little inconvenience and willing to bark at you on the sidewalks, were far more composed. 

“Just take it off!”

You ripped the underwear in rage, exasperating through your teeth as you pushed your hips back against his crotch. Tugging Lane’s strained boxers to his ankles, his precum glossed and dribbled to your sheets.

He didn't need your biting words to tell him how eager you were to get this over with, to rid yourself of the panic in your chest and the fire in your loins. 

You were dripping, moreso than you had in years. The slick squelshed between your thighs-- a perfect habitat for Lane’s needy, pink-tipped cock. He slid between your legs like he was made to be there, precum and slick mixing as he lazily rubbed himself in, and out, getting closer to your pulsing cunt. 

You gripped behind you, claws and fangs bared in frustration. But Lane was smart, grabbing you by the hips and wetly burying himself inside. 

He hid himself in the back of your neck, your scent bringing a small comfort as he dealt with the wrathful beast taking over your body. 

Your hips moved in circles, air permeated with hot breath, sweat, and agonizing pheromones. You were sure your alpha neighbors could smell it through the walls, their senses far heightened and eagerly searching for their own omega; but this was the scent of one who was being claimed, one who was claiming you and holding you taut against him. 

Lane did his best to satisfy you, to cater to your anger and sexual frustration as your hand found his on your hip, interlinking your fingers with his own to dig your nails into his skin. You were drawing blood, an unecessary mix to the flurry of smells creating your crazed demeanor. 

“Hurting.. Me,” He gasped, engorged cock stuttering inside of you. 

You let go, only out of the desire to get that reeking blood away. You didn’t care how hurt he would become, if his body was crushed under your power and lust. Lane brought this upon himself, no matter how many times you warned, begging him to stay away and leave you be. Now, there was very little sympathy to be had. 

The pain, the burning touch of your skin, did nothing to dissuade him. 

“Faster..” You huffed, annoyance lathering your voice. “ Don’t make me take over and-- break you,” 

You cringed at the sound of your voice, trying to turn away to smush your face into a damp pillow. Sight was not getting easier, and the cock barreling in even thrusts-- pushing your arousal to the edge-- was not making you any more satisfied.

“Don’t look away, then;” Lane panted, moving the hand supporting your hip, to hold up your thigh. You were exposed to the room, legs spread as you laid on your side and Lane pumped into you from behind. You saw his fingers digging into the fat of your thigh, thicker and stronger than you expected. “Wanna see you… wanna kiss, my mate.”

He had easier, deeper access now that he raised your leg, spreading your cheeks and hole wider, letting him fill and feel you at an ecstatic angle. You could hear him moving in and out, feel the sweat dripping down your ankle, the thickness of his pre-cum in trickles. It was a different sensation compared to the thin, stickiness of your arousal. 

You turned to glare at him, biting down on your lip to prevent from marking him. 

But Lane kissed you anyway with the same wet, feverish, tongued attempt that he had always prayed for. It was no easy feat to stop him from sucking on your tongue, from jutting himself over and over inside of you, with wilted moans growing in volume at your taste.

Your orgasm was on the rise, Lane’s own having just passed as he came with ropes, coating the base of your cervix. And yet, he didn’t stop-- desperate to watch you come, to force you to be bonded with him. 

You ripped from his begging mouth, twisting as far behind you as you could to bite at his cheek, using him as your personal chew toy. Lane leaned against you, accepting it with a blissed-out gape. He could take this pain, could handle coming down from his ecstasy to service you. He would steal your kindness, your rage, your sadism-- and it would be his, and his alone to feel. 

Being inside of you was heaven enough, he could take being dragged into hell with you too. Even when you finished-- when he went limp and your mixed arousal began to dry, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull out of you. He wanted to stay inside your warmth, to be intertwined and conjoined with you for as long as possible. You had marked him, had sealed your fate as soon as he thrusted himself in to the hilt.

You’d have to pry him away before he let you go tonight. And you’d never, be able to keep him farther than an arms distance, forever. 

[fuxuannie]

This is honestly my first time requesting anything so I'm kinda nervous ngl lol.

May I request some HCs with Dan Heng, Jing Yuan and/or Blade with a GN Reader who dislikes physical touches? As in, if someone hugs them and grabs their arm they recoil as fast as they can because they're uncomfortable? And will only be okay with physical affection when it's needed or if it's their partner?

Thank you for possibly considering this request, and have a good day or night :)

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4) x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : this request is SO me-core, as someone who's horrible with physical touch, i think im the best candidate for this /j thank you for the req and i'm honored im your first! this is really messy, im sorry T.T

DAN HENG was one of the first people to notice your discomfort with physical touch when you joined the Astral Express. March 7th tried to cling onto you, but instinctively you moved out of her way. (and admittedly almost made her stumble and fall doing so.) Profusely apologizing for that little accident, but you never really let people hold onto you.

So when you two got together, Dan Heng was pleasantly surprised with how clingy you really were. Whenever he was working in the Archives, the arms wrapping his waist and leaning on his back couldn't have been anyone else, he didn't wanna ask or point it out, just incase you would've been embarrassed or awkward about it.

Not only giving, but receiving. You used to refuse any form of physical touch but now the way he holds you in his arms is a blessing. You fit so perfectly, like you were meant for him, and he's so glad that you are. He helped you learn to love touch, and you helped him realize he loved to touch.

"I'll be there after work, I promise." You remember JING YUAN saying, and you told yourself you could survive a few hours waiting for him. So there you waited patiently, sitting alone on one of the outdoor tables by the restaurant you planned the date on.

It was almost time for him to arrive, and you were just happy you'd be seeing him soon, but you hear a throat clear behind you. You put your left arm by the back of your seat and turn around. "Hello there!" The man asked, a friendly smile on his face but something felt odd about it. A sixth sense intuition that somehow he didn't have the best intentions.

"You seem to be alone," Oh no. "I can give you a much better time." You force a laugh, flicking your wrist while doing so. "It's quite alright, he'll be arriving any minute now." And that seems to annoy the man, his kindness running thin. "Listen, he's clearly not interested-"

His hand goes up to grab your arm on the chair, but in one swift movement, you stand up and pull away. "Please. Do not touch me so casually." You say sternly, sending a glare towards the stranger. But the familiar feeling of a hand around your waist calms you down, you look at your boyfriend, who looks back at you apologetically. The man had long left, realizing who he may or may not have pissed off.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have arrived sooner." He says with a tired sigh. "It's alright, I'm glad you're here."

BLADE doesn't exactly care nor mind, he wasn't much of a touchy person either. But he'll do the little things like locking arms or letting you hold onto him.

He will get annoyed and maybe even confront people when it comes to situations where he feels like he has to. His mere glare can send people off running, so you're greatful to have him around.

You did like it when he'd hug you or hold you. It was rare, but when he let himself rest for a few hours, you're his personal pillow for that time period.

Kafka would mess with him every once in a while, touching your arm and making you feel ever so slightly awkward and the glare Blade gives would scare any ordinary person. She loves the reaction she gets out of him, seeing you get pulled away and his hands on your waist posessively.

"CAELUS, wait-" March 7th and Dan Heng tried to stop him, but suddenly the trailblazer walks up to you and wraps his arms around your figure. The other two expected you two slap him in the face, or something to push him away, but the way you payed no notice to the way he holds onto you surprises them.

"Whaaat..??"

"Oh! Right, this is my partner. Hehe." He'd snicker, already seeing March 7th's absolutely baffled expression. "You have a PARTNER??? AND IT'S (name)?!"

You're known in the Station for being a researcher who despised being touched, most people knew how passive aggressive you'd get depending on how you were touched, and the intentions behind it. "I'm the one exception to that whole thingy they have, I'm just really special." Caelus sparkled in pride, before clearing your throat. "You're about to lose that privilege if you don't let me go and look at some papers."

Caelus apologizes, pulling away as you huff. "Thank you." And you return to your work.

"I still can't believe Caelus pulls.."

"What in the GALAXY is that supposed to mean?!"

[crispywaffles2]

Hi I have a request! How about macaque and wukong (separate) acting over protective after if finding out their (female) s/o is pregnant? And how would they act throughout the whole pregnancy?

Please and thank you!

Hi! Of course I can, thank you so much for requesting! I'm not really versed in this particular field of romance or the struggles that it comes with, so I apologize if a lot of these seem out of character or unbearably tropey!

Overprotective Macaque & Wukong with a Pregnant!S/O

Macaque:

The moment it's revealed that you're pregnant he's tweaking out

He doesn't know how to be a dad what the heck

But he also can't deny that he is kind of excited at the prospect of being able to take care of your child!

Or children?

Oh my gosh what if it's twins-

He's seen mortal babies and toddlers walking about in the streets with their parents, and he's well aware of how.. tiny... and stupid... and vulnerable they are

He never much cared for it, thinking that mortal children were weak for not immediately coming into the world with powers or some sense of right and wrong

But it's different with his child! He can't let the tiny, stupid, vulnerable kid in your stomach get hurt!

Rest assured that he's rearranging furniture to make it easier for you to maneuver around

He insists on going out with you everywhere, and if you were to ever voice that you were getting tired of it, then he'd eventually relent...

Maybe send a clone or two to watch you in the shadows without your knowledge, but other than that he'll leave you alone!

He will glare at anyone who's eyes linger on your growing belly bump for too long, giving them a silent warning not to come to close

He'll throw down his cape over a small puddle, gesturing for you to safely cross. He says it's a joke, but really he wants to look like a gentleman in front of you

Despite his overprotective nature, he will not fulfill your cravings without question

"A what?? Why on Earth would our baby need to eat that?? They probably don't even like it!"

Other than your strange food requests, he's happy, eager even to help fulfill anything else

Worried about the stretch marks forming in your stomach? He'll tell you about how they remind him of battle scars and shows off his scars to you to make you feel better

"See? We're both warriors."

In pain from bad cramps? He's secretly panicking and making bad jokes while tending to you because he's nervous.

Stays by your side all the time just in case you start feeling pain. He wants to be there for you

Secretly reads books and looks up videos for first time dads when he thinks no one is looking

He's a warrior! A master of the shadows!

Sly, cunning, teasing, playful, sure!

But a father?

He couldn't even picture himself holding a baby

When the delivery finally happens he is such a Karen

Might as well hire him as a doctor, considering how he practically tried to deliver the baby himself

Eventually though he composes himself and stands in the corner fidgeting nervously

He's never been one to cry, not even in his brotherhood days, but the tears that welled up in his eyes when he held your child couldn't be helped

Instinctively starts trying to groom the baby

It's all over now. You're not pregnant, and the baby is finally here

He's still pretty protective of you, and his child even moreso

All that he could think as he looked into the eyes of your writhing, still slightly damp, baby was those nine months of making frankly disgusting foods were worth it

Wukong:

Absolutely flips when the bomb is dropped that you're pregnant

He genuinely doesn't know what to do

He's not sure if he should be excited that he's going to be a dad or worried that he's going to be a dad

We all know Wukong is protective of those he loves and carries a guilty conscience about including them in his messes

He knows that pretending he knows what he's doing won't get him out of every situation. He knows how many messes he pulls people into. He knows that his lingering 'do now ask questions later' mentality can put those he loves in danger

And now he has a baby too??

It takes a bit, but he eventually starts to warm up to the idea

He's the monkey king! And he'll teach his child to be better than him. Stronger, smarter! Well, not that much stronger because then he wouldn't really hold the crown the one of the strongest beings and he would not be able to handle that

Still though, he'll raise this baby and change his ways doing so

He's cartwheeling all over the place after a while just from pure excitement

Trust and believe this man is NOT reading any baby books or watching any videos. He doesn't need some mortal telling him how to raise his kid. He's the Great Sage

Whether that's a good or bad thing is up to interpretation

He'll rant to his monkeys about all of the things he'll teach the child, and he does it with so much excitement that even they get pumped up

Will try to speculate it's gender and appearance with you

"Maybe it'll have your pretty eyes and my handsome jawline! Or maybe it'll have your hair and a little tail like it's dad!"

Makes little baby toys out of sticks and leafs

He is actually super overprotective of you, but tries to pretend he's just being casual

"Where are you going? Not that I care or anything... You're trying to go to the store?? Babe, you should totally just.. stay here with me. I can make one of my clones do the shopping."

Will furiously stammer and insist that he's not worried about you if you ask

He knows you can handle yourself! It's just... You're all pregnant and vulnerable and round and he's such a worrywart about you!

He thinks that if anything even gently bumps your tummy the baby won't grow or something, so he's constantly paranoid

Rearranges furniture so it's easier for you to get around

He even cleans up just to lighten your load a bit! He must really love you!

He's actually super eager about people looking at your belly bump in public and will absolutely go off on a tangent about how his beautiful partner is about to have a beautiful baby and it's going to be beautiful

But if someone gets a little too close to you he will not hesitate to push them down or maybe accidentally give them a broken wrist if they reach out to touch your stomach

Is confused about why everyone isn't literally bowing to you while you're walking the streets

Genuinely got upset when you two were walking through a crowd and he had to hold you because people wouldn't just part for the pregnant woman walking through

"What?? Ten dollars for this? You do know my partner is pregnant right? This should be free for her! Everyday is a struggle for her! You'd have no idea what she's been through and you're charging her ten dollars-"

He's an absolute Karen

Suggests putting a pillow over your stomach

"That way you won't bump into anything and our child can be cozy!"

Because Wukong is an absolute hazard in the kitchen, he's concocted a crazy amount of different foods

He has no problem fulfilling your strange food requests and even eats them with you

"Oh my goodness! I love crab cakes with syrup!! I'll make some for both of us bud."

Has like three different emergency plans for when you're in pain

The moment you lurch forward or let out a groan he's on it

With a snap of his fingers his monkeys are all marching over to help you sit down in a single file line

He sits there and soothes you as best as he can while his monkeys scamper around trying to get anything you request

When it's finally time Wukong is genuinely confused, thinking that it's just contractions or something, but you keep yelling at him and saying "IT'S TIME!!"

Time for what?? Lunch or...?

Thinking the baby is talking to him through you, he hoists you up on his somersault cloud and zips off

When the doctor gives him a strange look and tells him you're just about to have your baby he freaks out

He tries to help in any way he can, holding your hand, breathing with you

Offers to help with the delivery of the baby

"Oh, looks like it's a bit stuck. Need a little help there bud?"

Losing his mind in the corner of the room but trying to play it cool for you and the doctors.

"Why is it slimy?" Are quite literally the first words that come out of his mouth when the baby is delivered

When he finally has his child in his arms he's all over it

Kisses, cooing, holding, hugging or even just staring at it

He may not know much about being a father, but he will try his best to teach his child not to go down the path he did because he already loves it to the moon and back

[python333]

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies. 

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook. 

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted. 

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything. 

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him. 

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed. 

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies. 

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first. 

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died. 

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn. 

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm. 

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck. 

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in. 

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics. 

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here? 

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you. 

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them. 

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline. 

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly. 

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat. 

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you? 

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge. 

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired. 

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to. 

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite. 

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air. 

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything? 

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something. 

That’s Ghost. 

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing. 

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you. 

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold. 

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door. 

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky. 

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again. 

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused. 

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise. 

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly. 

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on. 

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out. 

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions. 

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying. 

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so. 

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth. 

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

— 

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago. 

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. 

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open. 

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks. 

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk. 

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.” 

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.” 

“You get asked that often?” 

“I only get asked that by you.” 

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?” 

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat. 

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?” 

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].” 

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Then stop trying to sass me.” 

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.” 

“Isn’t that what you are, though?” 

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.” 

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.” 

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up. 

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.” 

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down. 

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.” 

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed. 

“You’re too stubborn.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly. 

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder. 

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.” 

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.” 

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.” 

“Well…”

“Well, what?” 

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—” 

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk. 

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—” 

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him. 

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?” 

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation. 

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.” 

“… No you’re not?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly. 

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.  

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.” 

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him. 

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?” 

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!” 

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!” 

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.” 

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.” 

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.” 

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.” 

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.” 

“You find them funny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.” 

“Some of them are pretty funny.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“The Mayflower one.” 

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?” 

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?” 

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?” 

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?” 

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything. 

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips. 

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin. 

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go. 

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.” 

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.” 

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…” 

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.” 

“Good to know,” You nod. 

“But that’s only a hypothetical.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.” 

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed. 

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.” 

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude. 

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

[crabonfire]

sick mercs (1/3)

characters: offense class

warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)

note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u

no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf

reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3

♡Scout♡

•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...

•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.

•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.

•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.

"I'm not sick, okay?"

But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.

The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.

"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.

• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.

But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.

• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

"You care about me...haha."

"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"

You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.

♡Soldier♡

• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.

"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"

• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.

Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.

"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."

"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"

You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"

He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.

"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"

He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"

He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."

You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;

"Fine."

• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.

You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.

"Thanks, cupcake."

• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.

He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.

♡Pyro♡

• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.

The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.

They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.

"Pi? You okay?"

You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.

"What's wrong?"

• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."

They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"

• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.

"Pi, I think you might have a fever."

They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)

You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.

• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.

You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.

"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."

You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.

"Do you want me to leave?"

In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;

"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)

"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."

That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.

That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.

"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?

• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.

Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.

It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.

Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.

♡♡♡♡

I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!

[missmeinyourbones]

Hiii leah! congratulations on your milestone, I'm so excited for this event and grateful for your wonderful writing! I'd like to request levi x "I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep" if that's alright, bc would've could've should've is my whole life. thank you <3

I FIGHT WITH YOU IN MY SLEEP (l. ackerman)

L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Things are off between the two of you—or maybe just you.

Because Levi seems fine, not that he's one for dramatic displays of emotion, but recently, the argument you had a few days ago seems to be the furthest thing from his mind.

Which is valid because you talked about it, discussed it like adults and apologized. The case should be closed and you should be moving on.

But for some strange reason, you can't.

The tiny argument that spewed into something much larger has been eating away at your decaying insides for days, now.

So much so, you're actually losing sleep over it.

After your standard good morning greetings, you fall into your usual breakfast routines. Levi sits at the kitchen table, sipping from his steaming mug and admiring the calmness of the morning from the window. You wipe down the counter, counting your breaths and hoping you can calm down before your anxiousness bubbles over and—

"You were in my dream last night," you casually breathe, pouring creamer into your coffee and watching the colors melt together with your spoon.

It's such a funny thing to admit. Like he's a high school crush slowly taking over your subconscious and not the man who's seen every inch of you and still chooses to see more, it feels oddly intimate telling him this.

You hear Levi kiss his teeth, "It's too early for you to be filthy."

"Not that kind of dream."

You wait for his response, and when it doesn't come, you turn from the counter to face him. Eyebrows raised and wanting him to take the bait, you're surprised to find him already staring back at your impatient stance.

"You're not gonna ask me about it?" you shake your head, a bit irritated with his lack of interest in something that's been rotting away inside of you.

He takes a deep breath, one that would sound exasperated if you didn't know him. But you do, and you know it's one of faux irritation. "And what was I doing in your dream?"

"We were fighting," you speak softly, feeling the tension rise at your few words. "It was pretty bad, too."

You watch your lover scowl in thought, eyebrows furrowed when he quips.

"Fighting? About what?"

"I don't even remember," you say truthfully, and Levi can sense the sudden change in your tone. You're tired, exhausted, from both lack of sleep and something far stronger. "I just remember being so mad at you and I couldn't stop crying."

He watches you carefully like a cat contemplating its next move. He purses his lips in thought, taking in your stressed expressions and bitten fingernails. Still unsure of the cards handed to him, he merely hums in response.

Wrong move, he quickly realizes.

You speak with slight hostility when you scoff, "That doesn't concern you?"

"Why would it concern me? It was just a dream," he tries to put out the flame before it spreads. "You told me last week that you had a dream about growing a tail."

"Dreams can mean stuff sometimes," you're quick to spell it out for him.

He tries to tease, "And what does you growing a tail mean?"

The wrinkle forming between your brows practically screams at him—another wrong move.

Exasperated, your gaze falls back to the now mixed beige of your coffee when you weakly give in, "Levi, I'm talking about the fighting one."

After a moment, Levi hums again, which is his way of telling you to continue. It's what he does when he wants to let you know he's still listening, still wants to talk to you, even if he doesn't know exactly what to say.

You make things a bit easier for him when you sigh into your mug, "Sometimes dreams can manifest subconscious thoughts or feelings."

"So you're subconsciously mad at me," Levi states with little room for argument, finally connecting the dots of your stubborn riddles.

And when he finally gives you the answer you've been looking for, all confidence is lost and you meekly shrug and shrink beneath his hardened gaze.

"Hey, look at me." His voice is soft yet stern, commanding your attention when his thumb gently holds your chin upwards.

You let him, and when he sees the tiny tears brewing at your lash line, he whispers.

"Is this about what happened last week?"

Yes, you want to scream in his stupid face. How can someone as smart as him be so ignorant at times?

Instead, you choose to weakly mumble out a small, "I dunno, maybe."

"Wanna go talk some more about it? Maybe..." you practically hear the fight in his hesitancy when he weakly offers, "…in the bath?"

He fights off a smile when he sees your face twitch in thought, clearly shocked at his offer.

"Am I still dreaming? Or is this you finally admitting you actually like taking baths with me?" your question comes out half teasing half disbelieving.

"I like making you happy," he corrects, "and I'd like to ease your subconscious, if that's the case."

This time, it's you that's humming for him to continue, loosening your stance and letting him gently shove you in the direction of the bathroom.

Levi takes it as a win, because if him sitting in a lukewarm bath with you for a half hour, rehashing an argument he thought was already resolved, means you feel better—means you're back to dreaming your usual dreams about growing extra body parts and doing unspeakable things to one another—then he'll just have to swallow his pride and sit in that damn tub.

"Besides," you hear him mumble from behind you, "I'm supposed to be the one who can't sleep. You're supposed to be the one who hogs the blankets and kicks me in the middle of the night."

[scribblesofagoonerr]

God loves a trier though, right? | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, G - God loves a trier though, right?

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Hi, sorry for the wait on this. This is a bit scrappy, not been proofread at all and I'm currently battling a headache while writing this so apologies if it doesn't make much sense, like at all!

I'm overwhelmed by the amount of support on this. It's definitely become one of my favourite things to write!

As always, my asks are open for anyone to drop me any ideas’ on this fic or anything else that people would like to see be written, however, I am only comfortable writing anything platonic though :)

Reader returns from the hospital, which leads to a heart-to-heart with some usual classic teenage sarcasm.

TW: heavy angst and mentions of SH, MH, suicide and death.

"Home sweet home" Leah pulls the car into the driveway and turns off the ignition, turning to look at you.

You fake a smile in the blonde's direction as you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie to fight the urge. "Glad to be home" You speak quietly.

You knew going home wasn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be, the reminder was right there in front of you.

A reminder of what you did, what could have been your end.

Until Leah had walked in and saved you.

You didn't really want to die, the voices on the internet were just too much to deal with.

The hate from the fans. The pressure from the media.

At times, everything can be overwhelming. But, being home makes it easier to regain control of being able to hurt yourself.

If you're being honest, that really does scare you.

The vague memory from that night still haunts you as you walk through the flat, sending a chill up your spine.

"Bubs?" Leah calls out to you, as she watches you freeze as you pass the bathroom.

"Uh, I'm... I'm a bit tired. Think I'm gonna have a nap" You tell her, slowly moving in the direction of your bedroom.

"Alright, I'll go and cook us some dinner. I doubt you've eaten much in the last few days if hospital food is anything to go by huh?" Leah jokes as she presses a light kiss to the top of your head. "Have a good nap, I'll wake you up when it's ready, yeah?" She adds.

Slumping into your own space, you glance around your bedrom and you're glad to see it's exactly how you left it.

You had missed your private space when you was in the hospital and you're just glad enough that the blonde hadn't gone to the extreme measures of removing your bedroom door at least.

"So the girls wanted to come around tonight but I thought it was best to hold off for now" Leah slides the dinner plate in front of you, you can't help but smile when you see it's smiley faces and nuggets.

One of the only things that Leah can actually cook.

You actually missed the small things like that while you were on an extended stay in the hospital.

"Sure" You agree as you reach for the ketchup bottle and squeeze a decent amount on your plate. "I'll be able to see them tomorrow at training, won't I?" You ask.

"Bubs" You can tell Leah is cautious to speak.

"I can train, can't I?" You look directly at the blonde as you await her answer.

Although you have a feeling that you're going to be sitting on the sidelines for a while.

"I have to train, Le! I can't put it off. I've gotta be ready to be selected for the matchday squad!" You insist as you stab your fork into a chicken nugget.

You watch as Leah frowns and hesitates to speak and that confirms your thoughts about it.

"We have a meeting tomorrow with Jonas, Kim, and some of the other staff at the club to discuss things--" Leah begins to explain, starting to eat her own dinner.

"I'm being sidelined?!" You interject in disbelief.

Leah shakes her head as she swallows her food before she speaks. "I didn't say that, Y/N" She states.

You can't help but scoff. "But you sort of did. I can't be sat on the bench-- I can't do it!" You try to insist. "I... I need some kind of purpose. I need a reason to get up in the morning!" You fight back the tears that threaten to spill.

You have to play. You have to be able to do that. You can't have that taken away from you.

"Bubs, let's just see what is said tomorrow. Okay?" Leah frowns and tries to take hold of your hand as you snatch it back.

"I have to be on the pitch, Leah. I can't be sidelined. I... I just can't do it" You state as you push your chair back and bolt up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Leah asks, confused.

"I need to get out. I'm going for a walk, or is that not allowed now?" You sneer as you move to walk over to the coat rack and grab one of your jackets.

"I'll come with you" Leah stands up from the table.

You huff and roll your eyes. "I don't need to be monitored. I want to be alone" You all but plead with her.

"I... I can't let you do that. You know I can't" Leah shakes her head in disagreement. "So we either go for a walk together, or we don't go at all" She states sternly.

"Guess we're both going then, wonderful" You mumble sarcastically and shove a pair of trainers on.

"It's cold out here this evening" Leah mumbles as she tries to pull her jacket more around to try and get warm, you decide to take a walk alongside the canal not too far away from the flat as you always thought clearer when you were near water.

"You didn't have to come with me" You mutter as you keep your hands shoved in your pockets.

You'd never been too much of a fan of the cold, but you just needed an escape as you felt like the walls were caving in around you being inside the flat.

"You know that I did" Leah replies quietly, exhaling a sigh.

"Oh yeah, of course, that's cos' I'm on suicide watch, right?" You can't help but joke with the blonde.

Leah tenses up at the mention of the subject that's joked about so casually as the two of you walk alongside the canal.

The blonde can't help but try and reach for your bicep to try and pull you away from being too near to the edge of the water.

"You can relax a bit Le, I'm not gonna try and off myself again" You continue to crack jokes about death like you're talking about the weather. "Although jumping into the water seems like a great idea" You add.

The blonde clicks her tongue. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that sometimes" She states in disagreement as she hesitantly looks at the water, trying to pull you back from the edge.

"It's the easier coping method" You quietly admit as you shrug your shoulders as you linger dangerously close to the edge of the water. "How deep do you think it is?" You ask, looking in the direction of the blonde.

"Come away from the water" Leah tries to pull you away from the edge again.

"Why? Afraid I'll actually jump in" You fire back as you can't help but laugh slightly. "You know I can swim, right?" You ask her.

"I know you can swim, but..." Leah looks nervous as she eyes your every move.

"But you think I'd rather try and purposely drown instead?" You wonder, already knowing her answer.

Leah shakes her head and exhales a sigh. "Y/N" She states in a knowing tone of voice that you knew all too well.

"The pressure is too much sometimes, the media... They can be ruthless" You admit quietly, looking back out to the water in front of you.

"I know" Leah replies just as quiet, waiting for you to speak again.

You tug at the sleeves of your hoodie and bite your bottom lip. "It's all too much sometimes. Sometimes I think the world is against me" You tell her, honestly.

"Bubs..." Leah starts to speak.

"Why were you and Katie fighting when I was in the hospital?" You change the subject, refusing to let your vulnerability show.

Leah exhales another sigh. "It's complicated" She says.

"Bullshit" You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

"Language" The blonde scolds.

"Well, why aren't you?" You repeat the question, wanting to know the answer.

"Well, adults have disagreements sometimes" Leah states, looking out to the water.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "C'mon Le, I'm a not naive kid-- Why're you not getting along?" You feel like you're constantly repeating yourself right now.

Leah exhales a sigh and hesitates to speak. "She just thinks that my decision was wrong, to allow the doctors to detain you in the hospital" She explains.

"I know that. You guys were literally fighting about it right in front of me" You remind her with the usual teenage cocky attitude you have.

"She thinks you should've been at home instead, with all of us watching out for you" The blonde defender continues to explain. "But Y/N... I don't know how I can keep you safe when you're at home. You joke about death so casually, I'm so scared that I am going to have to leave you alone, that when I come home, I'll find you lying dead on the floor in a pool of your own blood. At... At least this way when you were in the hospital, I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" She confesses the truth.

The truth that leaves an eerie silence.

"I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" Her words were like a continuous loop in your head.

Her confession hits you suddenly, leaving you feeling numb.