#and I’m drawing hard lines with how much angst I can take

[ghost-bxrd]

If you had to pick, do you like angst or fluff more? :0

Generally I tend to read something that has both. I need an angsty start and fluffy ending lol ✨

But if I had to pick… I mean it definitely depends on how you define angst, but if it’s not too hardcore I’d probably go with angst. Otherwise— fluff.

I’m too soft for the dark stuff. TwT

[daenysx]

hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?

soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)

wc: 2.9k

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)

burning desire

aemond is in a good mood this evening.

the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.

your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.

he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.

"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."

aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.

he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.

"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."

his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.

"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.

"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."

his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.

"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."

you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.

"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."

you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.

"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."

you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.

aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.

he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.

"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.

"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.

"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"

you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"

you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.

you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.

"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"

fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.

aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.

"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"

his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.

but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.

it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.

your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.

"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"

you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.

"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.

"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"

you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."

"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."

you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"

aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.

"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"

"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"

"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."

aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.

"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."

"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."

"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"

"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."

he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"

"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."

"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"

you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."

"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."

"but what if i-"

"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."

"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.

"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.

your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.

"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."

he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."

he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."

he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.

"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."

he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."

you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.

when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.

"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.

you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.

"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."

"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.

"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."

"please." you say. "please, baby, help."

you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.

he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."

"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."

he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.

"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."

"close." you murmur. "i need it."

he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.

aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."

who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.

it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.

"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.

"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."

aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"

you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.

"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."

"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"

aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."

he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.

"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."

"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."

"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.

♡

[luveline]

Hey if you're still taking requests could I get any sort if angst to comfort for zombie au steve? Been feeling down lately and I've always loved that series!

ty for requesting! zombie au. fem, 1.5k

The new pencils are oil-cored, as opposed to his last ones, which had been wax. They were just fine, but these oil pencils allow him to blend colours and shades with more finesse than ever. He can pour twenty different colours into the tone of your skin and have them blend into a real, phototechnical you. 

He’s pretty proud of this one. 

He wakes up first every morning, allowing for time where you’re unaware and he’s got nothing to do. He’s sketched you so many times it comes naturally. Steve probably wouldn’t need to look, but watching you sleep is half the joy of drawing you. 

You're drooling a little. 

Steve puts the handful of pencils he’d been using to colour your neck back into his pen case. He puts the case and his sketchbook on top of his main bag, shoving it into a corner of your tent with the rest of the bags to climb back onto the bed. It’s a portable cushioning made for camping, and it’s nothing like a mattress, but it is much kinder to your backs than sleeping on the ground. Warmer, too. 

He pushes your head back, knowing it will wake you, his thumb to the little drool line to wipe it away, his palm on your cheek to hold it. 

“Hello.” He kisses your other cheek as your lashes twitch. Doesn’t even think about not doing it. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” you mumble strangely. 

“What’s that?” he says, soft to match your quiet. His breath kisses your lips. “What’s wrong? You sound sad.” 

You force your eyes apart, and you feel along the mattress with your hand. Steve watches in real time as your eyes fill with tears, huge, heavy tears that well in the corner of your left and spill from the right to wet the pillow under your head. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, the effort expended to stay calm so gutting he has to squeeze the pillow just shy of your head. 

You grab for him, blankets and your half-open sleeping bag crinkling but not too thick to feel the force of your fingers gripping his sides. 

You must’ve had a bad dream, that’s what he thinks. He’s had enough of them, and he’s unfortunately cried after almost all of them. Sometimes you’ve seen it, sometimes you haven’t, but you look at him with love no matter what —he can forget dreams of losing you when you’re murmuring niceness in his ear, and he can give it back to you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, letting you squeeze him hard. “Don’t cry.” And that’s a little awkward of him, that sneaking panic, but he’s never claimed to be a professional. 

You cry in a weird breath that borders a gag. “I’m so-sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I have bad dreams too. You know that.” 

Steve attempts to get both arms behind your shoulders, pulling you into him, sitting you up. He can’t cope with how quickly you’ve fallen apart. To wake up crying, how scary the dream must’ve been, he hates it. 

“It’s okay,” he says. 

“It was a good dream,” you say. 

Steve frowns. “Okay, so what’s the problem?” 

“We had a house. We had a dog. I don’t– don’t even know if you like cats, but you had a dog, and we,” —you sob between words, not too loudly as to travel far, but aching— “were planning a trip. It felt so real, Steve. You were so happy.” 

Steve tries to process it as fast as he can. “Oh,” he says softly, hand lax where it had been rubbing your shoulder. 

“You were so happy,” you say again, burying the tip of your nose into his neck. You’re practically crawling atop him, but he’s strong enough to stop you from laying him down. 

“It’s okay, honey. Jesus,” he says, patting your back again. “It’s alright. It’s okay.” 

“We’ll never have those things.” 

“Baby, who says so?” he asks in a murmur. 

“We’ll never get to go anywhere together–”

“It feels like we’ve seen pretty much all of America,” he says. He’s joking, but travelling with you from place to place has felt expansive. You’ve seen forests and lakes, a thousand different houses, hundreds of neighbourhoods, and street art and installations and billboards for movies that were never screened. Steve’s seen about as much of the world as he wants to see. “I’d just stay in this tent with you forever if they let us, we don’t need to go anywhere else.” 

“You wanted to see palm trees,” you say, sniffling and pained as your tears warm the curve of his trap. 

“I’ve seen them,” Steve says. “Don’t worry. I’ve already seen palm trees. A whole bunch of them. Don’t worry about what I wanted in the dream, it was just a dream.” 

He gives you a quick kiss, his lips to the very edge of your temple. 

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” 

Steve nods. He draws from you reluctantly and opens the tent, ushering you on knees to sit out in the cool air. He sits next to you, dewdrops from the grass wetting his jeans, the sky a humming of early morning colours; the sun rises in bands of orange and raspberry pink, darkness above, sun rays kissing the sides of tents and the portables in the distance. 

You take deep breaths. Steve holds your hand, the two of you looking up at the strange sky. 

“We’ll never be that happy,” you say. 

Steve can hear your agony, and he knows what you mean. He thinks of that life with you and never lets himself think far. You would've gone to college, maybe, and Steve would’ve drove to visit you —he would’ve moved. Maybe in your second year you’d live together in a suburb just between college and his job, whatever it is he’d ended up doing, in a house you chose, with a ring on your finger. Steve wants kids but if you don’t then perhaps you’d have had none, but he still likes to picture you with your babies, a big family, years later. And maybe he’d have a dog. A silly looking one with bark worse than its bite. 

And you’d be together. You would be happy. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to lose you to. You’d never worry where your next meal was coming from, you’d never feel cold. 

Steve breathes out. Sniffs biting air. “We’ll never be that happy. That kind of happy. We’re never gonna go on trips, maybe we won’t ever have a house, but–“ He pulls your hand toward him, your eyes latching on to his. “But maybe we will. We might not get to watch cable, but we can have a tv, in a living room. We can live together, and maybe we will take trips. I don’t know. I don’t know what we’ll have, but I’m already happy. You don’t have to cry about me being happy.” He shakes his head. “Shit, you shouldn’t. I want that life with you so much I dream about it too, but I have this one.” 

“You think we’ll have a house?” you ask hopefully. 

“We can’t live like this forever.” He’s promising it. “Something has to give.” 

“I want us to have more,” you say. 

A weak confession, your cheeks wet with tears but eyes thankfully drying, your eyelids puffy already from sleep and crying alike. Steve wants you to have everything, even if everything is a stupid thing to think you’ll have. 

“We will.” Steve closes one eye, a sort of prolonged wink of pain as his nose wrinkles. “But this is enough for now, right?” 

“No.” 

You’re kidding, to Steve’s relief. 

He laughs and elbows you, glad to see your smile as you evade poorly. “Say it’s enough!” 

“No way.” 

You don’t wait for him to pull you in or ask if it’s alright, flopping without ceremony into his lap, and then turning toward him to hug his stomach. He looks down at you fondly, hand rubbing up your warm back. You’re still clammy from sleeping, but you’re not crying anymore. 

“It’s really cold out here.” 

“I know.” He blows a warm breath in your ear. “Do you still feel sick? Don’t barf in my lap.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve. It just felt so real.” 

His voice turns to a silky whisper he’s only ever used in love. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. We never would’ve… I’d never get to be here,” —you squeeze him around the waist— “if we were in a world where we also get the house and the dog and… the family…” 

“But it would’ve been nice,” Steve finishes, looking up from your back to watch as the raspberry bands of pink turn to blue. 

“It would’ve been perfect.” 

[mviswidow]

in search of silence

Eloise Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: r is in an abusive marriage, angst, el to the rescue, some fluff at the end

Summary: Eloise and R are childhood best friends. When a new season begins, they find themselves reunited for the first time since R has entered her marriage that was set up by her parents.

Prompt: could i request a fic with childhood bestfriends eloise bridgerton x f!reader. eloise and reader stopped talking to each other as often because reader got married and one day eloise catches reader’s husband being mean to her (this can be physically or verbally) and eloise defends reader and they rekindle their friendship/old feelings for each other.

sidenote, ive always loved your mcu women fics and im SO glad you’re taking requests for eloise now 😭😭🫶

A/N: thank you anon!! for both the request and the compliment. i love eloise sm this was so fun to write

Muffled shouting stole Eloise’s attention when she escaped from the ballroom of this week's ball that she had been forced to attend with her family. She hadn’t wandered far enough to no longer be able to hear the string quartet playing, but the sound of a deep voice yelling angrily was hard to miss as she passed what she assumed was a drawing room.

Though Eloise knew she should not eavesdrop, she found herself unable to mind her business and stopped in her tracks, gravitating closer to the commotion.

--

“I am through with you,” Your husband shouted, face red with rage.

The moment his hand had clasped forcefully around your wrist to drag you into a room with him earlier, you knew what was coming for you.

“James, please - someone will hear,” you responded in a hushed voice, thoroughly embarrassed at the thought.

“Let them! Everyone should know the bitch of a wife you are,” he spat.

You knew better than to talk back to him, and yet, “I’ve done nothing to you at all! You’ve no reason to -”

A heavy-handed slap to your face was sure to silence you. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheek, and your hand rose shakily to cradle the side of your face. Hot tears brimmed your eyes as you breathed deeply to steady yourself.

“I’m leaving.”

“Please -” you forced yourself to say, a feeble attempt to calm him down, lest his temper worsen on his way home.

“Enough from you! I-”

The door burst open and you felt as if your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

You were astounded to see Eloise standing in the doorway, her lips in a tight line. It had been long since you’d seen her last. She was beautiful, as always. For a moment you forgot your present situation until you noted the fire in her eyes. She was furious, but she kept herself composed, “Is everything alright in here? I heard quite the commotion from outside as I was passing by.”

“We are quite fine.” He turned back to you and after a moment, he spoke, “I’ll send the carriage back around for you once I arrive home. I cannot stand the sight of you at present.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” he said curtly. Eloise barely had time to register the fact that James was walking towards her and stepped out of his way just in time.

“Lord Anderson,” she managed out, deciding to forgo her polite curtsy. She had deemed that he did not deserve it.

You both jumped at the sound of the door slamming upon his exit.

Her head felt as if it was spinning. She’d recognized your voice from outside the instant you spoke. The thought of this being the reality of the marriage your parents had arranged for you devastated her. She wouldn’t let herself imagine how horrid it was for you when you were actually at home.

Your cheek still burned from being slapped and there was no doubt in your mind about it being tinged pink. You were beyond mortified and the relief of James finally having left had tears falling down your face rapidly.

As much as you wanted to take in Eloise, who you hadn’t had a moment alone with since last season, you were lost in your mind. You dreaded your impending arrival back home and prayed that your husband would be fast asleep.

After a few more seconds you pried your eyes away from the bookcase you had been staring at and settled your gaze on Eloise.

She somehow looked more stunning than you had remembered her to be and your heart squeezed painfully. Her hair curled carefully over her shoulders in such a familiar way and it reminded you of how you used to twirl her curls in your fingers whenever she would rest her head in your lap.

The Bridgerton made her way over to you carefully. The concern on her face was evident and you knew by the way her eyebrows were crinkling together that she had much to say.

She stopped when she was just a few feet in front of you. For once, she seemed unable to form a proper sentence.

You were sure she couldn’t find the right words. You weren’t sure how you should navigate this situation yourself, but you had had enough of the silence, “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.”

Eloise shook her head immediately, “You have nothing to be apologizing for.”

There was another lull of silence. All either of you could do was look into each other’s eyes. Hers looked so sad. How you hated to see them so.

“I assure you I am quite alright.”

“There is no use in lying to me, Y/n/n.”

Your bottom lip trembles at the familiar nickname and she hurries closer, engulfing you in a hug.

She felt you trembling as she held you against her. “I’m here,” she whispered, arms wrapped tightly around you.

It was not long before sobs racked your body and all she could do was rub your back and occasionally give you a few words of reassurance. Eloise felt her heart splitting into pieces the longer you cried.

You were certain that you would give anything to stay in her arms forever. There was nowhere in the world where you felt safer. Her chest radiated warmth and you took comfort in the very familiar scent of her perfume.

Once you’ve calmed slightly, you apologize again, “I’ve missed you terribly. And I have been the furthest thing from a friend to you. I’ve allowed James to drive the people closest to me out of my life and I won't stand for it any longer.”

“I can’t have you getting in trouble because of me,” she shook her head.

“Oh, hush, El,” you chuckled wetly. “I’ve been in trouble with my Mama countless times because of you.”

She knew you were joking to make light of the situation, but she found nothing humorous about it. Especially not as she reached up to wipe away the tears on your face.

“How long has it been this way?” she inquired, speaking with a gentle voice.

“A handful of months. He’s become rather frustrated by the fact that I have yet to produce an heir for him and his displeasure with me grows stronger by the second.”

Eloise’s face scrunched in indignation, “That is ridiculous.”

“It’s fair enough - that is why he was searching for a wife in the first place.”

“It’s unacceptable behavior from him regardless of that fact,” she was quick to rebuke. She took your hand in her own and squeezed gently. The feel of your skin against hers made her heart race.

“I’d like to get out of the house tomorrow. Do you think your mother should have my head if I busied you the whole day?”

“Not at all. She’s missed you quite a lot as well,” Eloise smiled.

Your heart fluttered at the admittance.

“Will you be okay tonight?”

“I will. I’m sure he’ll drink himself to sleep the second he arrives home.”

You could tell Eloise didn’t like the sound of that, but she said nothing.

She was grateful that you wanted to spend the day with her tomorrow, not only because she would be eager to see how you were but also because she’d missed your company so very much.

--

Almost two fortnights later, you’re riding in a carriage to a ball with your husband sitting across from you. He grows tired of waiting for you to finally come to be with child. Intercourse with him is nauseating and at this point, you’re praying that your courses don’t come next month for a multitude of reasons.

The ride is sour, as you’ve just had a nasty argument, ending in you being pushed into a table. Your right arm ached still, but you were sure that nothing was broken.

You were excited to escape from your husband and find your dear Eloise the moment the opportunity arose. Your feelings for her made you ever so giddy when you were around her. You felt almost childish at your eagerness to leave your husband and find your friend, but you had been swept into this marriage on your just first season out, which was only last year. It barely gave you any time to enjoy balls with her without courting.

Running around with Eloise at the last ball felt so normal, oddly enough. It was incredibly refreshing to spend the better part of the evening with her, sipping on champagne and cracking jokes. Even though you knew it was slightly improper as you were now married and should have been at your husband’s side, listening to him boast about his fortune and how impatient he was to have an heir with whoever would listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It did anger him, however. You had learned so after the last ball when he reprimanded you for almost half of an hour about your behavior as if you were his child and not his wife.

You’d decided to behave for the first hour, at least. It frustrated you so to listen to James drone on to his acquaintances, but you knew it was what needed to be done since he was already on edge from his earlier outburst.

The Bridgertons arrived after you, and you spotted Eloise immediately. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw the way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

You squeezed James’ arm absentmindedly out of the excitement you felt. When he looked down at you, you played it off by giving him a look that should have been directed toward Eloise.

That had seemed to satisfy him well enough and he returned to his conversation, allowing you to return to observing your favorite Bridgerton from afar.

Eloise’s hair cascaded over one of her shoulders and two strands of soft curls beautifully framed the sides of her face. Her dress was blue, as it usually was, and it was embellished with embroidered flowers.

You could hardly peel your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to redirect your attention to your husband once more.

After what you deemed an appropriate amount of time, you excused yourself to find more pleasant company.

It seemed as if you had run into almost every Bridgerton before her, though. You greeted all three of her present brothers before finding Violet and Agatha in conversation and curtsying to both. Violet even extended a hand to squeeze yours for a moment, happy to see you.

As soon as you began a conversation with her and Lady Danbury, you were accosted by Eloise, who gripped your arm excitedly. You winced briefly, now bruised from your earlier encounter with the table of your drawing room.

You relaxed your expression and the pinch in your brow was gone once it settled in that you were in Eloise’s presence, she still noticed your discomfort despite your futile efforts to mask it and found herself glancing down at your arm.

Her nostrils flared at what she saw, she had half the mind to find Lord Anderson at that moment, but she looked back up to you and saw the bright grin on your face and melted, a smile of her own growing quickly.

She swiftly looped her arm through yours and began to pull you away, wanting you to herself, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal Lady Anderson away. I’ve hardly had any time with her all week.”

The older women chuckled and shook their heads, recognizing this familiar routine that the two of you had been accustomed to last year.

“Have a nice time ladies,” Violet smiled, not even bothering to remind Eloise to attempt to fill a few spots on her dance card. She knew how the girl had missed you, and didn’t have it in her to force her daughter away from you. Violet rather appreciated how cheerful Eloise happened to get whenever you were around, especially at balls, where genuine smiles from the young lady were scarce.

Eloise guided you to a corner of the ballroom, not failing to make a stop at the refreshment table and hand you a lemonade. You were relieved to be by her side at last. There was nothing you had desired more in the past week, where you had only been able to promenade with her once, as James had been irritable.

The longer you were around her, the more you felt the pressure on your chest relieve itself. You were able to breathe so easily around Eloise. You suddenly became aware of the fact that her thumb was passively rubbing your arm and you had to blink a few times, not sure if you were dreaming it.

You ached for her to touch you more. You’d once attempted to imagine that your husband’s hands were hers, but they were far too rough, and you gave up quickly.

Your mind wandered for a moment, but before it could stray too far, you snapped yourself out of it.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you pointed out, turning your head towards your best friend. It was quite unlike her.

She tilted her head in a shrug, “You seem as though you could use a little quiet.”

“You know me far too well, Eloise,” a smile returned to your lips, something she never failed to do, and you shook your head. “But please, if there’s anyone I’d like to hear ramble, it is always you.”

Eloise scoffed in mock offense, “I do not ramble.”

“You do, too,” you teased. “I like it.”

She chortles in response and the two of you hold eye contact. She looks at you with a fondness that you recognize yourself often directing toward her.

Eloise breaks it for a short moment to glance down at your lips.

When she does it once more, you’re suddenly overtaken by instinct and put your lemonade on a serving tray, taking hers and doing the same.

“What-”

Eloise is interrupted by you taking her gloved hand in your own and dragging her out of the ballroom. She doesn’t miss the way you check over your shoulder for your husband, who is heavily occupied, drinking and joking happily with his friends.

You begin making your way into the gardens when you hear Eloise chirp up from behind you.

“We shouldn’t be out here,” she says, not quite like she means it.

You roll your eyes, “Then it’s a good thing you’ve never cared for rules, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” she couldn’t be offended, it was true, and it was exhilarating to be truly alone with you for the first time in such a long while.

You stopped when you’d reached a dead end and you were sure you were not only alone but completely hidden from anyone looking outside.

Eloise tried to stop her mind from racing. She couldn’t be sure of why you had pulled her out of the ballroom. She waited with bated breath to find out, trying to suppress the excitement she felt. You could just be in search of fresh air, or actual silence, which required you to be far enough to hear the music no longer.

Your breathing quickened as you stood in front of her. She took note of it, and against her better judgment, let her eyes flicker to your chest. Then up to your lips, which were parted slightly. Her eyes lingered, before finally meeting your own.

While you badly wanted to tell her everything on your mind, you could hardly form a proper sentence, “El…”

You could hear her breath, ragged from nerves as she took a step closer to you.

There was a question in your eyes. You were grateful that you did not have to utter it. She knew.

She told you that she knew with the glassy nature of her eyes, the parting of her mouth, and her breath fanning across your face as she brought herself closer.

You closed the distance, pressing your lips to Eloise’s. The gentle kiss did not take long to turn eager, almost desperate, both of you feeling free from the sole secret you had kept from each other.

Her lips were soft and warm. They were everything you had dreamed of.

You lost yourself in Eloise, your hands finding their way to her jaw. Your body felt as if it was being lit from the inside when she pressed you into her with a firm hand at the small of your back. Your head almost spun from the contact of her chest against your own.

Despite not wanting to, you pulled away the slightest bit to catch your breath. You did not miss the way she chased your lips.

She had never looked more beautiful. Your heart swelled as she began to smile, which turned into a breathy chuckle.

You shook your head as you joined her with a giggle and let your arms wrap around your neck, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, El. So much,” you whispered.

You felt her breath hitch and her arms tightened around your waist, “I love you too. So very much. It pains me so to watch you from across a ballroom when I want nothing more than to be by your side.”

All of a sudden, your reality came flooding back to you.

“You deserve so much more than that brute that calls himself your husband. He should be honored to spend the time with you that he does. He is a fool for not seeing how precious you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes as she spoke, “I wish I had never married, El. I’m miserable.”

“I know. I’m not sure how much peace this brings you, but you should know that I am here for you, at any time of day or night. You could barge into the Bridgerton house in the late hours of the night and I shall be ready to dissolve your worries with my charming wits and whatever biscuits we can find in the kitchens.”

You found yourself laughing, as you always did in Eloise’s presence, “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure,” her lips quirked up.

“What are we to do now? About us, I mean.”

“We’re going to have to find a way to get you out of that house of yours however often we can. And if Lord Anderson lays another finger on you I will sic my entire family and Lady Danbury on him. We’ll see how he likes that.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’d say I’m known for being ridiculous, you shouldn’t be surprised,” she raised a brow playfully before looking over her shoulder. “I highly doubt anyone is missing us in there…”

“What might you be suggesting, Miss Eloise,” you ask, feigning innocence.

“I think you know quite well what I suggest.”

[evansbby]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

part iv - just like animals

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, major angst, extremely dark themes, a/b/o dynamic, daddy!kink, dubcon, dumbification, bullying, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, size kink, housewife kink, semi-public sex, pussyjob, oral (f receiving),  extreme depictions of bullying and depression, 18+ only, minors do not interact!  

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You begin to lose hope, and Steve begins to lose his mind.

Series Masterlist 

𝐀/𝐍: Another warning that the angsty content and certain themes in this chapter may be difficult to read. Warnings are there for a reason. Apart from that, thank you so much for being so patient. It took me more than 4 months to write this and it’s 22.2k words long. Enjoy.

Pregnant.

You stare so hard your vision blurs, until the two lines on the test are swimming around comically, almost as if they’re laughing at you. And then you’re blinking rapidly, because your eyes must be playing some kind of cruel trick, right? This can’t be real, this can’t be real, this can’t be real.

You’re pregnant. With Steve’s baby.

It’s with an almost detached silence that you get up and wrap all three tests in a big wad of toilet paper. Like you’re floating through the air, you stuff them under your shirt and make your way out of the room. With Steve still asleep, you venture downstairs and out the front door, the chilly morning air having no effect on you.

You bury the tests at the bottom of the garbage bin, like how you’re currently trying to bury all the emotions threatening to spill out of you. A baby. Inside you. Right at this moment. Steve’s baby. Your hand twitches, reaching up to touch your stomach before you stop yourself. What were you going to do now?

Steve reaches for you when you return to the bedroom, he looks half-asleep as he pulls you back into bed. You wonder whether here, cocooned in cosy warmth, you can just scrunch your eyes up real tight and pretend none of this is happening right now…

“Where did you go?”

“Steve, I… I’m…” Your throat constricts, and panic rises within you like bile as you try to regulate your breathing. “I just went downstairs to drink water.”

Steve hums, drawing you closer and burying his face in your neck while you lie completely still. As if any movement would somehow expose the fact that you’re pregnant. He peppers soft kisses onto your skin, tugging your shirt down to expose more of your neck.

“I’m gonna take you out for dinner tonight.” He says softly, and it’s the last thing you were expecting to hear from him right now. His lips drag up to kiss the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw, his hands stroking up and down your body as he holds you close. “You have an exam this morning, don’t you?”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you’d forgotten you have an exam today.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Mm, so I’ll take you out after. Anywhere you want to go. We can even go shopping before that, I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Steve’s arms encircle around your waist, pulling you up as he rolls onto his back, so that you’re lying on his chest. He blinks up at you, blue eyes suddenly serious, “I want you to forget about everything that happened last night, omega.”

And just like that, it all comes rushing back to you. Like a hurtling freight train that had been momentarily kept at bay because you’d just found out you were pregnant. But now the memories come back at lightning speed. Bucky. Steve Junior. The fight. How Steve hadn’t defended you. How he’d left.

How he’d cheated on you.

How you’d begged him not to leave you.

“Forget all of it.” Steve repeats, cupping your face with both his hands. “None of that’s important anymore, as long as you’ll be good from now on.”

And just like that, he wants you to forget. Move on in a blink of an eye. Forget his cheating, his casual cruelty, how he’d laughed when you’d cried. How he’d told you every detail of his encounter with that other omega, how it had felt like you’d been punched in the gut repeatedly.

How could he expect you to forget? By pretending it never happened and distracting you with shopping trips, gifts and dinners? Was that his way of compensating? Didn’t he feel even a tiny bit of remorse? Could he even acknowledge how much he’d hurt you?

There’s a part of you, underneath all the newfound shock of being pregnant, that wants to confront him about all of it.

Instead, you nod mechanically. “Okay, Steve.”

“Good girl.” He kisses you a few more times before sitting up and setting you down next to him. “Pick a restaurant and text me, I’ll make the reservation.”

With baited breath, you watch him as he gets up, moving around the room to get ready for the day. You know that he’s got his morning run, then a gym session and then two exams back-to-back– which means you won’t see him until a lot later. Maybe it would give you enough time to gather your thoughts and make sense of your situation before you tell him.

***

Your own exam goes by in a blur. It doesn’t help that all you can think about is the fact that there’s literal life growing inside of you, but you somehow soldier through. With nerves mounting, you walk from the university building back to Steve’s house almost in a daze. Worries, questions, concerns, and fears swim around in your head like a school of frenzied fish. What are you going to do?

Acting on desperate impulse alone, you whip your phone out. Shaky fingers scroll desperately, searching for one blocked contact in particular. Almost in a frenzy, you tap on his name, unblocking him and calling him before you can change your mind.

“H-Hello? Peter?”

It takes a few moments for him to register that it’s you, and then:

“Oh my God. Are you okay?!”

The familiarity of Peter’s voice makes you want to cry, the sound bringing back fleeting memories of sitting on his sofa with a bowl of popcorn and a movie, complaining to him about all the alphas in your lectures. Playing computer games on his laptop and laughing when you beat him. Catching the bus to his house after days of not speaking to anyone at university, and the relief you’d feel when he’d open the door…

“I’m… I…Peter, I…”

You’re suddenly awash with shame. The last time you’d seen Peter, his face was spurting blood after being punched several times by Steve. And you hadn’t even bothered to call or text him after that, hadn’t bothered to see if he was okay. Granted, that was also the night Steve had mated you – oh, how could you ever explain all of this mess to Peter?

“Are you okay?” Peter repeats. “I tried to call so many times but you blocked me.” A pause, and then he adds: “Don’t worry, I realised that was probably Steve’s doing.”

You swallow harshly, “I should’ve called you. It’s just… He… He…” But you couldn’t blame it all on Steve, could you? In the past month and a half, it’s not like you’d gone out of your way to contact Peter. No, after Steve had mated you, it was like he’d consumed you, eaten you alive. Wrapped you up in this little bubble where it was just you and him and no one else mattered. A bubble you clearly had been in no hurry to escape from until it had popped unceremoniously all over your face.

“Is he treating you okay?” Peter’s question sounds tentative, as if he doesn’t quite believe his own words.

“No, Peter, I–” A strangled sob escapes your throat from out of nowhere, and you can feel the flimsy threads holding you together as they begin to come apart. “Everything’s a mess, a big fat mess and I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

Why had you called him? How could you even begin to tell him everything you’d been through in the past twenty-four hours? Would Peter ultimately even care to listen to you complain about the man you’d cheated on him with? The man who you’d been living with for the past month, acting like his good little omega while pretending Peter no longer existed?

“It’s all a big mess.” You moan pathetically, hating yourself for how you sound. Here you were, hurt by one man and immediately trying to hurtle yourself into the arms of another. Stupid. Pathetic. Dumb. Careless. You’d gotten yourself into this mess. Just like Steve said – all your fault.

Your hand finds its way to your stomach, stroking it softly through the material of your dress. For a split second, you close your eyes and try and picture it. You, with a baby in your arms. Your very own baby – it looks exactly like you. And Steve coming home, smiling happily as he kisses you and takes your child, swinging it around while it giggles.

But like ink spilling on paper, the image darkens. Now it’s you alone with your baby. Cold, dark, dreary. Steve’s gone. He left you. Left you and left your baby. For that other omega. Left you just like how your dad left too. And it’s all your fault, all your fault, all your fault! Steve’s voice chanting in your head while your baby cries: all your fault, all your fault, all your fault!

“Hello? Are you still there?” Peter’s voice drags you out of your mind. “Look, just tell me what happened. I can help you. I know I wasn’t much help last time but I can help you now. We can figure something out, just tell me where you are, and–”

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt him, swallowing harshly. What had you hoped to achieve by calling your ex-boyfriend and telling him that your current boyfriend got you pregnant? No, you couldn’t do that to Peter. “Look, I don’t know why I called, I can’t drag you into my mess.”

“You haven’t even told me what the mess is–”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You choke out before quickly hanging up. Methodically, you delete the call history and block his number once more. And then, it’s with almost mechanical grace that you wipe away your tears and clear your throat.

This is your mess. You have to handle it by yourself.

Still reeling from the impulsive phone-call and it’s abrupt ending, you walk the rest of the way back to Steve’s house in a daze of different emotions, wanting nothing more than to just escape your mind which seems to be working in overdrive. Reaching the front door, you’re about to twist the doorknob when you hear a click and the door swings open from the inside.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Little Miss Omega.” Words dripping with smug delight as if he’s caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, Bucky leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and a wolfish grin on his face, “Was that you I just saw on the phone?”

You duck your head, hoping to just ignore the alpha, nudge past him and run up to yours’ and Steve’s bedroom. But Bucky easily blocks your path, leaving you standing outside on the porch and looking up at him in dismay. Again, you try to push past him but he’s too big, too strong, barely budging.

“I asked you a question. Who were you on the phone with? I bet Stevie doesn’t know, does he?”

Bucky intimidates you, with his light blue eyes and cold gaze. The way he’s always staring. And you don’t think you’ll ever forgive him for what he did to poor Steve Junior. Hands curling into fists by your sides, you can’t help but look to the ground, “I was talking to a friend about a textbook I’m looking for.”

“Nice try, sweetheart. Everyone knows you don’t have any friends.”

“Just let me in!” You try and be assertive, but shoving past him does you no good – just like Steve, he’s practically built like a brick wall.

“Let’s put it to a vote, shall we?” Bucky turns his head slightly, “Hey, Sam. Should I let little omega into the house?”

Over Bucky’s shoulder, you see Sam on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and a joint between his fingers, a slightly glazed look over his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck, man.”

“I’ll take that as a no. Sorry, sweetheart. I guess Steve should’ve trusted you with keys.” And you can’t believe it when the door slams in your face. You stand there in shock for a few seconds, wrapping your head around exactly what’s just happened. Overhead, the clouds grow darker and you hear a boom of thunder that has your chest tightening.

Hurriedly, you knock on the door once more, trying to persuade yourself that they’re just doing what they always do – acting like alpha jerks and joking around. Of course, they’ll let you in soon – they’d have to be heartless not to.

“Please let me in!” You call out, knocks becoming more incessant as panic begins to bubble inside of you – you’re not too fond of thunder, “Bucky, Sam, please! I think it’s gonna start raining!”

A rush of cold air has you shivering down to the bone, goosebumps rising up and down your limbs. It had been warm in the morning, so you’d worn only a light sundress – absolutely not ideal for the rainstorm that’s clearly about to hit.

“Guys, please!” You cry out again, and it comes out as a whimper. Bucky’s been awful as of late, but maybe Sam would grow irritated by your cries and come to open the door? That’s all you can hope for as you continue to slam your fists against the door harder and harder.

Suddenly, the door opens and you sag with relief until you see it’s Bucky again.

“L-Let me in. Please.” You hate that you have to beg him like this, after everything he’s said and done to you in the past. How he tore Steve Junior, how he called you a bitch in heat. Oh, how badly you wish Steve was here. But then, would Steve have even done anything at all?

Bucky tilts his head as if he’s pretending to think, “How about we strike up a bargain, sweetheart? You give me a kiss, and I’ll let you in.”

It’s as if someone’s dunked poison into your veins. Ugly, green poison that gives you a bad feeling and a bad taste all at once. You take a step back almost cautiously, “N-No.”

“You sure, omega?” Bucky licks his lips, pushing his brown hair out of his face as his gaze drinks you in hungrily. “It’s awfully cold out there, and nice and warm in here. All it’s gonna cost you is one kiss. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Steve.”

You jut your chin out, “No. I’m not going to kiss you. You’re Steve’s best friend, you shouldn’t be acting like this anyway.”

It’s like it’s all a game to him, because Bucky just smiles wickedly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Revulsion overtakes your body, and you take another step back, blanching before giving him a pleading look.

“Acting like what? I told you, I won’t tell Steve.” He tries to grab you, but you’re quick to dodge him, “Come on, omega. It’s not like Steve’s gonna care anyways. I was there when he cheated on you. I didn’t understand it, if I had a hot piece of ass like you in my bed– I’d never do what he did.”

You bite your lip. The pain is still so fresh, the memory of Steve so nonchalantly telling you how he’d cheated on you, how he didn’t have a mark on his neck that tethered him to you. You’re crestfallen, but there’s a certain fury that awakens inside you too, because you hate how Bucky’s talking about it, you hate how he knows, you hate how he’s using it to his advantage.

“JUST SHUT UP!”

You’ve never yelled at an alpha like this before, your voice sounding over a clap of thunder that hits at that exact moment, “Shut up, okay? My relationship with Steve is none of your business. So just please, please leave me alone and let me in.” And once again you try to barge your way past him, pushing against his arm with all your strength but getting absolutely nowhere with it.

“Listen, you little bitch. Don’t fucking raise your voice at me.” Bucky is quick to grab your arm, twisting it roughly behind your back and making you cry out in pain. “And stop trying to act all high and mighty, like you’re above kissing me. You’re just a pathetic little scholarship slut omega, remember that.”

“Please! It hurts!”

“It hurts!” He mimics, face inches from yours as he sneers down at you, “When are you gonna realise that no one cares when you hurt? Least of all Steve.” His lips are so close to yours, and you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks, “So, what do you say about that kiss, hm, sweetheart? He cheated on you, now’s your chance to do the same. An eye for an eye.”

“No! I’m not going to kiss you, okay? I don’t want to!” You cry out, trying with all your might to wiggle out of his grasp until he cruelly pushes you away and you stumble down the front steps of the house.

“Fine. Suit yourself, omega slut.”

And the door slams shut again, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock. And this time, you know Bucky isn’t coming back to open it. Another clap of thunder, a ripple of lightning and now heavy rain is falling down in earnest. For a few seconds, you just watch in disbelief as the icy cold water soaks through your clothes.

Then you run up against the window, pounding on it, hoping that maybe Sam will let you in. But Sam looks like he’s passed out on the couch and dead to the world around him. And Bucky just sits there, cigarette in mouth and phone in hand, pretending as if he hasn’t just heartlessly locked you outside in the heavy rainfall.

And the rain is unforgiving, so cold as it pelts downwards. Fat droplets of icy water beating down on your head – it’s already soaked through your dress and everything from your hair to your phone is dripping wet.

Once more, you slam your fists on the door, yelling out both their names, begging and pleading to be let in. You shake and rattle the doorknob, you pound at the glass of the window, at one point you even hurl your whole body into the door to maybe break it open – but to no avail.

“Please! It’s c-cold out here!” Your voice comes out hoarse from all the pleading you’ve been doing, and you can’t tell whether it’s rainwater or tears smeared all over your face, “Please let me in! I d-don’t know what I did to you but please, just let me in!”

It’s in the middle of your hundredth ‘please’ that you finally stop, clamping your shivering mouth shut because what’s the point? All this begging, all this pleading, just in the hopes that the two worst people you know might feel sorry for you? When they never have in the past? When they’ve been awful to you every chance they got, despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but polite to them?

No. Bucky and Sam don’t deserve your begging.

You find yourself sinking down on the steps. You contemplate calling Steve, but one glance at the black screen of your phone and you know it’s either dead or the rainwater got to it.

The library was closed for maintenance, and walking to the nearest campus building would be impossible in this rain. Even your old dorm is out of the question, because Steve has the keys to it. And slowly, as the cold numbness begins to spread across your fingertips and up your arms, you feel a sudden numbness in your mind too.

This despairing feeling of no hope, cruelly snatching away any need to survive. You feel your body switch off, the feeling of deadly indifference overtaking you. You bury your head between your legs, wrapping your arms around yourself to preserve any body-heat.

Steve should be home by now... But he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’t! The voice inside you mocks. He’s probably with that other omega…Cosy in her dorm room, probably kissing her…

You don’t know how long you sit there in the pounding rain, feeling it beat unforgivingly down your head and back. A part of you wants to drown in the rainwater, or let it wash you away and take you somewhere far. Somewhere where it isn’t so wet and so cold, where everyone isn’t so horrible.

The car headlights don’t really register in your head, and neither does the rough hand that grabs your arm a few moments later, shaking you and calling out your name repeatedly. You just keep your head in your lap, hoping and praying that the cold goes away.

“Can you hear me? What the fuck are you doing out here?” Steve demands, grabbing both your shoulders now and shaking them heftily, making you look up slowly and blink. Your vision is completely blurred, and again it’s either from the rain or your tears – you don’t know. But you see Steve’s halo of blonde hair glimmering in the rain, and the furrow of his brow.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out as Steve yanks you up to your feet, pulling you towards the door.

“Did you hear what I just asked you? What are you doing out here in the rain? Are you insane?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the deathly patter.

“W-Wouldn’t let me in.” You mumble faintly as Steve fishes for his keys, pulling them out of his pocket and unlocking the door in record time, pushing you inside before following you.

“What?” He repeats once you’re both inside, “What did you say?”

The warmth is immediate but you feel no relief – just that same numbness from before. You’re dripping all over the floor, cold beyond belief as you look down at your ruined shoes.

“Th-They wouldn’t let me in.”

It comes out so quiet, so pitiful, so weak and resigned. Because you know he won’t care, that he’ll downplay it. But Steve’s blue eyes blaze with fury once realisation sets in. Face red and knuckles white, he turns to the living room. You must’ve been outside for a while because Sam is gone, and there’s only Bucky who sits with his feet reclined on the coffee table, casually typing away on his phone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?” Steve roars, striding into the living room and grabbing Bucky by the collar, yanking him up to his feet.

“Hey, hey, let the fuck go of me.” Bucky’s got a glare on his face as the blond alpha slams him against the wall, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Don’t act fucking stupid,” Steve sneers, “She was outside in the rain for God knows how fucking long. Look at her. She said you wouldn’t let her in.”

Bucky’s gaze shifts towards you, and you know you look like a dishevelled, soaking mess. There’s a split second where his eyes widen, and his throat bobs as he swallows. Then he blinks, that familiarly cruel smirk returning, “Oh. I guess I didn’t hear her knock.”

“Bullshit.”

“What’s going on–?” Sam chooses that moment to come thudding down the stairs. He stops short when he sees you shivering at the landing and the sizable puddle of rainwater by your feet.

“Why would you do it?” Steve slams Bucky against the wall once more, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry. Except the night he mated you.

“Relax the fuck out. It was a joke. Don’t act like you haven’t done shit like this before.”

“Don’t fucking joke with her.”

“I’ll joke with whoever the fuck I want, asshole. Just like how you used to,” Bucky sneers, “before you got yourself whipped on that omega slut.”

The look on Steve’s face is one of absolute livid fury, and he’s about to draw his fist back when–

“Steve, she looks like she’s hypothermic or something.” It’s Sam who speaks, stepping forward and swiftly coming between them. Steve glances at you before looking back at Bucky, giving the brunet one last menacing look before shoving him, then shoving Sam and making his way over to you.

“Both of you can go to hell.” He mutters, blue eyes still filled with rage as he grabs your arm. He inhales sharply, as if stung by how cold your skin feels. And ‘feel’ is a strong word because what you can’t feel is your toes, your fingers, the tip of your nose. And you can’t stop the violent, body-wracking shivers as your body fails to heat itself up.

Steve tries to pull you up the stairs, but it’s like you’re a solid block of ice – half frozen from cold and from the shock of everything that’s happened. Eventually, he just picks you up, carrying you up the stairs as you remain stiff in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeat the words in choked whispers till they lose meaning. And you don’t know what you’re apologising for, but you know Steve’s angry. Which means he’ll be angry at you – maybe for making him fight with his friends? Causing a huge commotion because you cried like a baby for being locked outside? Would he blame you again, tell you it’s all your fault?

Would he leave you?

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you can’t keep your teeth from chattering but you keep repeating it nonetheless, scared of what he might do, what your punishment will be, as he carries you up into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

You risk a look up at his face. There’s still anger in his eyes as he scans over your body, the way you’re trembling in his arms, cold fingers gripping onto him tightly. And for a moment, he just stands there. Stands there in the middle of his room as if he has no idea what to do, almost as if he’s at a loss.

“You’re really cold.” It’s all he says, and then he carries you into the bathroom, easily holding you close with one arm, and manoeuvring the other to open the tap and fill the bathtub with scalding hot water. You can see the steam rising invitingly, but it’s like all hope’s been snuffed out from within you – you don’t really care about getting warm anymore.

“A-A-Are you m-mad at me?” You ask Steve quietly, but maybe it’s too quiet, or maybe you asked it in your head because he doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently puts you down on your feet, unzipping your dress and taking it off, and then your shoes and sopping wet socks too. That’s when you realise you can’t feel your toes either.

The bath is boiling hot but it only feels lukewarm against your poor, cold-stricken body. He’s filled it up till the brim, so you sit there with your chin resting on your knees and arms wrapped around your legs protectively, as if any moment he’s going to turn on you, yell at you, tell you it’s your fault. And then you expect Steve to leave, and he almost does once he turns the faucet off. But he hesitates at the doorway, as if he’s afraid to leave you alone in the bathroom.

Finally, he decides to stay, sitting down on the floor next to the bathtub, his eyes glued to you. But the anger seems to be gone (or maybe he’s hiding it?). For a long while, no one says anything. And it’s there, in Steve’s bathroom as you sit in the scalding water, that something seems to break inside of you. As if any will you may have had has been sapped out of your body, leaving just a shell behind.

Steve clears his throat, “Are you still cold?”

Silence.

“Omega. Answer me.”

You don’t. Or you can’t. He seems far away.

“Do you want me to make the water hotter?”

Why is he being nice? Is it an act? Is he trying to trick you? Why hasn’t he punished you yet? This is all your fault, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

You stare straight ahead at the tiled wall in front of you. It’s black and white marble. Minimalistic. A simple pattern.

“Is there something written on my face that makes people to treat me like crap?”

It’s you who speaks – but you almost don’t recognise it. Clear, void of any emotion and no stutter. You feel like a ghost, out of your own body and watching yourself from a corner, resigned and not caring what happens next.

And Steve seems slightly taken aback – maybe he expected you not to speak at all. Maybe he only expected you to cry like you always do. But it’s as if you’ve cried all the tears you possibly can, and your body has no more left to give. It’s like you have nothing left inside you to give.

“They shouldn’t have done that.” Steve says darkly, “I’ll make sure they don’t pull shit like that ever again.”

You blink, but don’t respond. You know in your heart that you don’t believe him – not when he picks and chooses when to defend you.

“Is there something so glaringly wrong with me, that it makes people treat me like shit? You should know if there is, because you’re the one who started it, Steve. They wouldn’t be bullying me – no one would be bullying me – if it weren’t for you.”

You feel nothing as you say it, almost as if your body’s given up on protecting you; your tongue allowing you to say things that you’ve only ever dared to think about before. You were profusely apologising to him not five minutes ago, but now it’s like you can’t stop yourself from saying what’s been festering at the back of your mind for who knows how long. But your tone isn’t accusatory, just monotonous. You focus on the pattern on the wall – black, white, black, white, black, white. One white tile has a crack in it. A small one, but it’s there.

“Why did you bully me, Steve? What did I ever do to you, except keep my head down and mind my own business? Did you hate me that much? Do they hate me that much?”

Through your peripheral, you can see him holding his head in his hands for a second. And then he looks up, does that thing where he runs his hands through his hair. Eyes squeezed shut for a second, he opens them and looks down at you, and his hand hovers in the air for a second as if to grab yours, only to snatch it back at the last second.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Why did you treat me so awful, then? And persuade everyone else to do the same?”

Silence. No answer. But it’s not like you expected any different. You fold more within yourself, hugging your knees closer to your chest and letting a huge wave of shivers overtake you.

“Can you just… Could I be alone, please?”

He doesn’t budge even an inch, and again you get the feeling like he’s scared to leave you by yourself. But it feels even more alien when his hand comes up to stroke your hair back. The omega inside you sings for his touch but for once it’s like the numbness within you is overshadowing your base omega desires. You duck away from his hand, making him freeze and snatch it back once again.

After a few beats of silence, you speak once more.

“It’s me, isn’t it? There’s something about me that people just don’t like.  No matter how hard I try, how nice I act – it always seems to come back and slap me in the face.”

Steve, his tongue always ready with cajoling words and sweet nothings, seems to have nothing to say. You’ll never figure out how to read his expressions, but his brow is furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’ve kept quiet all my life, kept my head down, kept out of everyone’s way – but none of it works.” You meet his gaze, that forever unreadable look; “Please… Please tell me why it never works?”

“I told you; I’ll make sure they never do shit like that again. You won’t have to worry anymore; I’ll make sure they don’t even speak to you–”

“You told me once that nobody cares about me.” You pick at your nails, sounding both broken and matter-of-fact at the same time, thinking back to Bucky’s words from earlier: No one cares if you hurt. “And you’re… you’re right, Steve. No one really does, otherwise Bucky and Sam would have just let me in. And no one would’ve ever bullied me. And… And my mom would answer my texts, and…” A sudden wave of anguish washes over you, “And my dad wouldn’t have left me.”

You don’t know why you’re telling him this now, but it seems like everything’s finally connecting in your head – everyone will leave you, even Steve. The alpha sucks in his breath, and again it’s like his fingers are dancing, creeping over to grab your hand that lays limply on the rim of the bathtub. And this time, he does, squeezing tightly except you’re so emotionally numb that you can’t even feel it.

“You know he left because he wanted a boy? An alpha? You were right, he didn’t care about me, left before my first birthday.” The pain associated with the one thing you never talk about, that you never even think about, is so strong that it almost winds you, and it makes your heart hurt. “N-Now he has a new family. Two sons. He even has a daughter, but I don’t think he’d ever leave her like he left me.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightens, and you hear this growling sound that comes from his chest. But you’re so far down this well made up of your own pain and anguish, that it’s like Steve’s almost not even there.

“I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for him leaving. And you were right when you said that she doesn’t care about me either. I don’t remember the last time she called me, or even texted to check up on me.” You look up to see him open his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, “Steve, sometimes I… sometimes I hate myself for being like this, for driving everyone away.”

Steve whips his blonde hair out of his face, suddenly sitting up straighter and eyes molten blue with new heat, shoulders squared as if he’s defensive, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“But it’s true. And I drove you away too. To that other omega.” And now fresh anguish cuts through, splicing you open like a knife, the same pain you felt the moment Steve told you he’d kissed someone else.

“You didn’t drive me away–”

“That’s what you told me. You said it was my fault. And it was, and I made you cheat on me. All my fault – that’s what you said.”

“I didn’t mean–” He grabs your face, hands rough and calloused but so familiar, as if a thousand others could touch you at the same time but his touch is the only one you could ever recognise. Face inches from yours and intense gaze boring into you, he exhales sharply, “I didn’t cheat on you, omega. I don’t think you understand what cheating means, but kissing someone is not–”

“I’m not dumb.” You interrupt, and it’s funny because you wouldn’t have dared to ever interrupt him before now. But it’s like you’re a ghost, outside of your own body and long past the point of caring. “Maybe I’m a bit naïve but I know what cheating is.” Tears would’ve been flowing down your cheeks at this point, had you any tears left to cry, “And you know the worst part? You laughed as you told me.”

Steve shuts his eyes again for a second, really scrunches them up and you can see the furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw. But you don’t know what any of it even means – is he angry with you? Annoyed? Irritated? Do you care?

“It didn’t mean anything with her. I came home to you in the end.”

It meant everything to me! You want to yell, but instead you sink down lower into the water, wanting it to swallow you up, pull you down the drain and away from everything. But strong hands grip your forearms, jerking you back up almost immediately. You suck in your breath before turning to face him, properly face him, “You still kissed her. And you– you gloated about it; told me it was my fault. N-Now you’re gonna leave me just like my dad did. Leave me for her.”

Steve shakes his head, his knuckles white from gripping your shoulders so tightly, “I don’t even remember her face.” He lifts you out of the tub, and you don’t even struggle because what’s the point? The fight seems to have left your body completely. He places you on his lap, naked and wet and trembling, strong arms encircling around you as they’ve done a thousand times before when he’s ready to sway you with his sweet words, “Omega. Listen to me, she meant nothing to me.”

“I don’t think I mean anything to you either.” It’s both an observation and a realisation. All these weeks of trying to persuade yourself that Steve has changed, that Steve’s good to you now, that surely Steve wouldn’t treat you how he treated Sharon. It’s a delayed reaction, but now you’re sure of it. As Bucky said: no one cares if you hurt. Least of all, Steve.

“You mean everyth–” Steve cuts himself off with another deep inhale, the muscles and veins in his neck tensing, “You mean a lot to me–”

“Don’t,” You interrupt him again, “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Steve. You do it all the time and I’ll always believe it – and it’ll all be a lie because it always is.” You shake your head, looking up into his shadowed blue eyes and feeling that lurch in your heart you always feel. “I’ll always fall for your words, Steve. Because you made me fall for you.”

A surge of indescribable anger overtakes you, washing over you like a tidal wave, drenching your already wet body in confused, accusatory rage. Feebly, as if testing the waters, you shove him. It’s a slight push against his chest, but then you do it again with a little more strength. And then again. He’s so strong, so big, so well-built, that he doesn’t even budge but you push him again anyways.

“I hate you for making me fall for you, even though you treated me like dirt at the bottom of your shoe!” You cry, shoving him harder while all Steve does is stare at you with that damned unreadable expression, “I hate you for not standing up for me,” Another shove, harder this time, and then another one, “I hate you for cheating on me, for laughing while you watched me cry. I hate you for making me care so much that it felt like my whole world ended when you told me you kissed her!”

Again and again, you hit him; and every time he just lets you do it. Not even raising a hand to defend himself, just allowing your pushes, slaps, punches and shoves to slam against his shoulders and chest. And everything’s a blur to you, black and white bathroom tiles melting into the blues in Steve’s eyes, and again you shove him, harder and harder, not even knowing you had this animosity inside of you until it came pouring out.

“I hate you for bonding with me when you don’t even care about me. Hate you for making me beg you not to leave me, hate you, hate you, I hate you!” Louder and louder your voice gets, till it’s bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, and you think you see a chip in Steve’s stoic expression when he winces, and you hit him even harder. You’ve never hit anyone in your life but it’s like you can’t stop, this animalistic anger radiating off you in waves.

He catches your fists in his hands easily, as easily as he’s crushed and stomped on your trust and feelings in the past. And he pulls you into him, muscular arms wrapping around you, clutching you to his chest, holding you there while you struggle against him, shove and punch and push, until you finally stop.

“I don’t hate you,” You whisper in defeat, “I can’t hate you – no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I should. I wish I did, but I can’t.” You lower your fists, sagging against his chest in defeat, voice breaking as finally, finally, the tears begin to fall. “Can’t hate you, Steve. Not even a little bit.”

Everything’s still. You. Him. The water in the bathtub. And then:

“I won’t hurt you again.” Steve’s voice comes out oddly thick.

“You’ll leave me.”

“I won’t.”

You stare at your hands, fingers shrivelled from the water, trembling from all the screaming you’ve just done, “Don’t believe you anymore.”

Steve sucks in his breath, and you look up to see him tug at his sweater, pulling it down to expose his neck, pale yet so thick and veiny, connecting to his muscular shoulders. He tilts his head slightly, eyes dark and deathly serious, blinking rapidly with a desperation that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Mark me too.”

Your head whips up, heart skipping several beats. Desperately, you search his face for a sign that he’s joking, that he’s about to laugh in your face. It’s almost instinctive to do that now – you don’t trust him; you don’t believe him. Despite the fact that there seems to be sincerity written on his features, you can see it brimming in his eyes that glow in the dim light of the bathroom, in his lips which practically purse with anticipation.

You don’t know what to say.

“Mark me too, omega. Like how I marked you. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else; I only want you. So claim me, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll be yours just like how you’re mine.”

You gulp. Steve’s all about grand gestures and sweet words, but could he really mean it? When he’s barely said anything this whole time you’ve poured your frustrations out to him? For a moment, a wild nano-second, the feral omega within you wants to surge forward and bite him hard, claim him how he claimed you that fateful night a month or so ago. Make him hurt how he made you hurt the night he claimed you. Make him yours, and maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be happy?

But then you wilt, like all your feelings have rushed to a standstill and taken a nosedive down to the depths of your own mind. Dark doubts, insecurities, mistrust, hopelessness – all of that seems to overtake any innate desire you have to mate him right back. Clearly, the bond you both shared meant nothing to him when he’d cheated on you. What difference could your measly bite-mark on his neck really make?

“Make me yours.” He repeats.

“You’ll never be mine.” You shrink back within yourself, like a candle that’s been snuffed out, or a balloon that’s slowly deflating.

Steve blinks as if he can’t quite believe it, and you feel a peculiar wavering in your bond. “I don’t understand,” He says slowly, “I’m giving you permission to mark me, omega. Not anyone else, just you. So do it. Mark me.”

You bow your head, shaking it slowly, “I’m tired, Steve.”

There’s a certain pull that you feel in your bond with him, a heaviness in the connection you share. You’ve never felt it before. Hurt. It’s almost as if he’s hurt. Could Steve possibly be hurt? But the feeling is fleeting, glimmering slightly before disappearing altogether, making you think you imagined it to begin with.

No more words are shared between you as he helps you to your feet, wrapping his large black towel around you before guiding you back to the bedroom. Like you’re a kicked and injured puppy who needs him. You wonder if you’ll ever not need him.

You feel nothing as he pulls his old football jersey over your head. It’s your favourite one, the one with all the holes in it that smells so much like him. His lucky jersey, he’d told you once. But even the omega inside of you has quietened down, and you still feel so numb. Numb and cold. And hopeless. Even the bed doesn’t bring you any comfort as Steve tucks you in.

He sits by your side, stroking your hair. You struggle to keep your eyes open, the dark depths of sleep tugging you in, and you wonder what fresh nightmares await inside your head. Steve leaving you? Leaving you and your unborn child? You’re already half asleep when you think you hear him speak again, in an oddly gentle tone:

“When I kissed her, I closed my eyes and pretended it was you.” A pause, as if he’s mulling whether to say his next words, “You’re all I think about – and I think about you so goddamned much, it feels like I’m going insane. I can’t even look at another girl, all I see is you.”

It’s through the throes of sleep that you answer:

“Don’t believe you, Steve. Don’t trust you. How can we raise a chil–”

But even in your half-asleep state, your voice knows to trail off. You know what you were about to say: How can we raise a child together when I don’t even trust you? But you can’t tell him about the baby, not when everything is so uncertain.

Sleep pulls you into unconsciousness. Dark and quiet, you dream of nothing.

***

The next few days feel like you’re living in some sort of limbo, with things between you and Steve quieter than a pin dropping. There seems to be change in the foreboding alpha who used to make your heart stop every time he looked at you. Now, he teeters between a range of different emotions. Like masks – quickly exchanging one for the other. Wary – as if you’re made out of glass. Apologetic – except he’s yet to actually say sorry. Cautious – as if he thinks you might do something to hurt yourself. Angry – not directly at you but it scares you anyways.

And sometimes you don’t recognise him – but did you ever truly know him to begin with? And you also don’t recognise yourself. You feel like a snuffed-out candle and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Steve’s room suddenly feel suffocating, but where else are you supposed to go?

But it’s like there’s an invisible barrier stopping you from leaving his room. The fear of running into Bucky is the biggest barrier, and so everything else comes to a standstill. Cleaning, laundry, all the little things you used to do around the house for Steve and yourself. Things you didn’t even realise had become routine until now. You barely go into the kitchen anymore, with Steve now bringing food up to his bedroom for the two of you.

Soon, your end-of-year exams finish, and looking out onto campus through your window, you can see other students packing up and leaving. Laughing and hugging their parents who show up in pick-up trucks and moving vans. Friends saying tearful goodbyes because everyone’s going home for the summer. Is that what you should do? Go home? When your mother hasn’t given you a call in more than a few months now?

One day, you’re staring listlessly out the window when you hear a knock on the door. Turning your head ever-so-slightly, your eyes meet with Sam’s.

“Steve isn’t here.”

“I know. I wanted to speak to you.” Sam steps into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Your breath hitches in your throat, and the alpha scoffs when you get up and take a step backwards, “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s less a fear of Sam and more a fear of something bad inevitably happening that makes you swallow harshly. Sam isn’t as bad as Bucky but he was still awful to you, still said the meanest things to you and had done nothing when Bucky locked you out of the house. So, your body is on high-alert as you gaze warily at him now.

“Go away.” You don’t want to beg him, but you don’t have the willpower to even try to be assertive anymore. It’s not like any of the alphas in this house ever listen to you, anyways. “Just go away, okay? I have nothing to say to you.”

Sam scowls at the floor, kicking the carpet before inhaling deeply and looking up to meet your eyes. Why is he here? To ridicule you? Berate you? Laugh at you? Do you even care anymore?

“I’m sorry, okay?” He blurts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth so quickly that you’re stunned for a second, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. Sam himself looks stunned, and you get the feeling that he’s never apologised to anyone before, let alone an omega. And nobody’s ever apologised to you before, not any of the alphas who’ve bulled you. Not Steve. And certainly not Bucky.

Sam takes a step closer to you, and this time you don’t flinch away.

“Look, I won’t pretend I’m a saint, okay? I know I’ve never been nice to you… But things went too far the other day and I’m man enough to admit that.” He’s still speaking fast, as if he wants to get it all out before he changes his mind.

Should you trust him?

“And I don’t know what the fuck came over Bucky that night,” Sam continues, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Usually he’s the nicest out of the three of us. And I was high as fuck that night, I thought he’d let you in eventually, so I just went upstairs. But whatever, I’m not making any excuses for him or myself.”

You exhale slowly, willing yourself to look up at his face, search for even an ounce of laughter, or a twitch of a smile – any hint that this is all a sick joke.

“So, consider this an apology. And you don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to forgive me. But just know that you won’t be getting that sort of treatment from me anymore.”

Silence. Except your mind’s working in overdrive: should you trust him? Should you believe him? Did you even want to forgive him? Does this apology make up for all the verbal abuse, berating and bullying that you’ve suffered, with him being one of the main perpetrators? Did his apology even matter anymore, when the damage was already done?

You never get a chance to respond because Steve walks in at that very moment. The blond alpha freezes at the doorway, a bouquet of yellow roses clenched in his hand and a frown quickly forming on his face. His blue eyes narrow as he looks from you to Sam, who’s standing only about a foot away from you.

“Get away from her before I fucking kill you.”

There’s a flurry of movement, the yellow roses drop to the floor and it takes Steve only two strides to cross the room and stand between you and the other alpha.

Sam raises an eyebrow, “Chill out. I only came in here to–”

“Get out.” Steve is curt and seething at the same time, and for a moment it looks like Sam’s about to square up. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut and shaking his head.

“I’m so fucking done with this bullshit.” Sam says under his breath before exiting the room, leaving you alone with the sound of Steve’s rapid breathing as your alpha whips around to stare you down. Your heart lurches when he grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you while those blue eyes never leave your face.

“You were gonna fuck him, weren’t you?”

Your jaw drops at how ludicrous his accusation is, how shockingly unbelievable.

“Wh-What? No, I wasn’t–”

“Don’t lie to me.” With clenched teeth and eyes that look half crazed, you see his pupils darting around as if trying to find the truth in your face. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he squeezes your shoulders and shakes you again, “Don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing. You think you can cheat on me just because I cheated on you?”

“No–”

“You think you could ever get away with that?” Blonde hair falling over his forehead, eyes bloodshot with anger, he looks like he’s teetering at the edge of his own sanity. “You think you could just hook up with someone else as some sick form of revenge on me, do you?”

“Steve, no–”

“Where’s your phone?” Steve looks incensed, eyes scanning the room like a man possessed. Grabbing it from on top of the dresser, he goes through it quickly. Like he’s done a thousand times before, except this time it’s like he knows he’ll find something. You thank your lucky stars that you deleted the phone call with Peter from your call history – not that that counted as cheating in the slightest.

His frown grows deeper as he opens every app, scrolls through every chat, scours through your call logs. But you feel an eery since of calm – which is the opposite of Steve who looks like he’s about to explode with whatever mad anger that’s suddenly consumed him.

“Don’t you fucking think you can go behind my fucking back, you got that? Especially not with my friends, or that fucking scum beta ex of yours.” He throws your phone down on the bed, clearly having found zero evidence to back his absurd claims, but it doesn’t stop him from glowering at you.

“Listen to me very carefully, omega.” Steve scrunches your face between his thumb and fingers, his expression so intense it chills your blood. “You’re mine. I’m your alpha and I own you. That’s never going to change. If you ever cheat on me, I’ll kill him. And you too.”

He slams his lips against yours in a kiss so bruising, you feel your lips burn. And this kiss is different, you can almost taste the desperation as he moves his tongue against yours. As he holds you close to him so tightly that it hurts, and you can’t breathe, and you feel like he’s never going to let you go.

You fight the urge to kiss him back – because even now, that urge is still there. It’ll always be there. Palms press desperately against his hard chest in a bid to push him away.

“I wouldn’t do that to you!” You cry out as you pull away, “I would never deliberately hurt someone I care about, Steve. I’m not you!”

He lets go of you as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, breathing hard and still seething. And it’s almost like you’re really seeing him now. Steve, who was always so poised, so smooth as he clinically seamed his words together in the past. But now? The distant, crazed look in his eyes, the dishevelled features, hair unkempt, jaw tense, lips bitten and pursed. He’s always been beautiful but there’s an unpredictable edge to him now that maybe wasn’t there before.

Was the alpha losing control?

He backs away, fists clenched at his sides and that intense and crazed expression still on his face. You both stare at each other, it feels like your heart’s about to thud out of your chest. And then abruptly, he turns and strides out of the room, stepping over the bouquet of yellow roses that lay trampled and dejected on the ground.

***

The days all start looking the same. You’re so stationary in Steve’s room yet you feel like you’re running. Constantly running and hiding from the responsibility of the child growing inside of you. Tell him, tell alpha! He deserves to know! The omega inside of you shrieks and croons, but something’s stopping you from doing it. There’s a mountain of problems surrounding you and Steve – where would a baby fit in all of that?

The silence between the two of you grows louder as each day passes. Barely any words spoken, and a certain awkwardness that was never there before – certainly never from Steve himself. Yet despite all that, every night he holds you while you sleep. And every morning, you wake up in his warm embrace. And it’s only in those moments, in the quiet of the night with the weight of his arms around you, that you can pretend everything’s okay.

And then one day, Steve walks into the room and sits next to you on the bed. You think nothing of it, barely glancing at him before going back to examining the pattern of the duvet cover.

“Omega.” Steve says, but as usual he seems so far away. And it’s almost like you don’t have the energy to acknowledge him, even when he grabs your hand and squeezes it. It’s only when he says your name – your real name – that you look up. He barely ever calls you that.

“Have you eaten today?” He asks, a frown adorning his features when you shake your head listlessly. You’d attempted to go down to the kitchen earlier, but upon hearing Bucky’s voice you’d turned and come straight back into the bedroom, heart pitter-pattering and a sinking feeling in your chest.

He takes out a wrapped deli sandwich and a bottle of water from his gym bag. His blue eyes watch you like a hawk as you slowly take a sip of water and tear off a bit of the sandwich, chewing softly. It tastes like nothing, but you figure it’s better to just keep quiet and eat it – since you’re meant to be eating for two now anyways. And just that thought sends shivers down your spine – how long can you pretend not to acknowledge the existence of the baby growing inside of you? How long before you have to tell him?

Steve clears his throat, “Look, I know things have been…” His voice trails off as he watches you tear off tiny pieces of your sandwich, staring into your lap because you just can’t seem to look at him. He shifts around, and you feel a spark of unease in the bond you share with him.

“I got you something.” He says finally, reaching into his gym bag a second time, he takes something out and throws it into your lap.

The fur looks worn out and one ear is missing, and you can see the haphazard stitches on the teddy bear’s neck that hold it together. Not the neatest thread work, but it looks strong enough despite the head which is slightly lopsided. Coal black eyes shining bright as ever, and the same blue bow tie except now it has a few more loose threads than before.

“Steve Junior…” You breathe, running your fingers over the stuffie, and his fur feels just as soft as before. He looks so old, so worn out, pieced together and stitched so precariously but it’s him. As ridiculous as it sounds – he’s just a stuffed animal after all – but it’s him and now suddenly your mouth feels dry. You bring the stuffie up to your nose and you’re bathing in Steve’s alpha scent, so potent and rich and warm.

“It took me a while to find someone who’d fix him up.” Steve breaks the silence, scratching the back of his neck. You sneak a peek up at his face to find him scanning yours, as if gauging your reaction. “A lot of his cotton stuffing was dirty so I had to replace it. But the rest of him is all him, just as he was before. I thought of just buying you a new one, but I figured you’d appreciate this more.”

You nod slowly, stroking the top of Steve Junior’s head as if you can’t get enough of it. “You gathered up all the pieces from the kitchen floor?”

“Yes.”

It’s a monosyllabic answer, but his eyes say a lot more. At least, you think they do and you wish he’d verbalise it. Instead, with a hesitancy that was never there before, Steve slowly pulls you into his lap, holding you close against his chest, where you can feel the dull thud of his heartbeat. And you let yourself be held, feeling his alpha warmth that you haven’t felt in a while now.

Warm hands cup your face and make you look up at him. And it’s his tenderness that you can’t wrap your head around. Is this the same Steve who so vehemently accused you of cheating on him just days ago? Why was it always a different emotion with Steve? Always a different mask, as if he could switch them out so easily. What were you supposed to believe?

He kisses you like someone who’s parched, and again you feel that desperation on his lips. Before, his kisses were always so confident, self-assured, taking what he needed from you and leaving you breathless and reeling in the process. Now, he’s gentle. Handling you as if you’re made of glass. And it feels so foreign to you.

You let yourself kiss him back. Steve sighs and increases his pace, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, making you gasp before he gains entrance. His hands fall down to your hips at the same moment your arms wind around his neck. It’s frenzied movement and a blur of limbs, like two people who’ve suddenly realised they can’t get enough of each other after days of no contact.

“Fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, squeezing your hips before his hand slips down between your legs, cupping your mound in his warm grip. You pant, jerking forward, squashing Steve Junior between both your bodies. You pull away long enough to prop your stuffie up on your pillow, making sure he’s sitting upright before Steve drags you back to him.

“You need me, don’t you?” He whispers fervently against your lips, biting and nipping while the heel of his palm grinds against your clothed pussy. “Tell me you need me.”

You do need him; you’ll always need him. It’s what terrifies you the most. But you try not to think, try to lose yourself in the feeling of his lips smattering kisses all over your jaw and moving down to your neck. He slips his hand into your panties, eliciting another gasp from you, and a jerk from your hips that can’t help but want him.

You start moving against his hand, riding it while he slips a finger inside you. Your slippery pussy swallowing his digit as if you’re starved, walls so needy that they constrict around him and you moan, grabbing at his shoulders, wanting to feel more of him. Nothing’s solved, nothing’s okay – but he’s made you so addicted to his touch that, for a second, it doesn’t even seem to matter.

His hands have snaked up your shirt, palm pressing against your belly like how he always used to do before. Except now it’s different, now it makes your eyes widen and a cold panic rise in the pit of your stomach. Again, the picture plays behind your eyes: you, alone with your baby. Dark and dreary, and Steve’s nowhere to be found. He’s gone. He’s left you. Did he kiss that other omega like this?

“STOP!”

You push hard against his chest, the force of the blow surprising both of you. You scramble off him, hands shaking and you can still feel his burning kiss on your lips, and his touch on your body too. You back away slowly, shaking your head and breathing hard.

“I can’t, I–” Your eyes dart to Steve’s face, and he’s looking up at you with what looks to be concern, as if he’s just kicked an already injured puppy. Repeatedly, you shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just… I just can’t!”

Running to the bathroom, you slam the door shut and that’s when the tears spurt out and you’re sobbing and sobbing. It seems like you’re always crying – as if the self-pity will just never end – but it’s like you can’t stop. Why couldn’t you just become okay again?

Everything is okay! The omega inside you screeches. He fixed Steve Junior! It shows he cares! Everything’s okay now!

If everything was okay, then why did nothing feel fine at all?

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you see an omega who is weak and broken. Red eyes, bitten nails, puffy face. Hair unkempt, hands shaking pathetically, clothes crumpled. Was this the omega who was meant to keep Steve happy? Was this the omega who was going to have his baby? You cradle your stomach as rivulets of tears flow down your face.

“What are we gonna do?” You whisper softly, your sobs making your words almost indecipherable. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.”

You don’t hear the thud of the footsteps, only the crash of the bathroom door as it’s thrown open, Steve striding towards you and grabbing your shoulders before you have a chance to even cower.

“What’s wrong with you?” He roars, but there’s desperation in his anger as he shakes you by the shoulders.

“I don’t know!”

“What’s it going to take to get you to go back to how you were before?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

You flinch when he draws his hand back, wondering if this is it. If he’s finally run out of whatever patience he had up until this point and now you’re in for it. You brace yourself for the inevitable blow, taking a deep breath and willing yourself to disassociate from the pain. But you only see Steve looking at you incredulously, his hand slowly curling into a fist by his side.

“I wouldn’t hit you.”

He looks almost appalled, staring down at his own fist for a handful of tense seconds, during which you can hear the sounds of your own rapid breathing and every single beat of your heart too.

“It wouldn’t matter if you did.” You say it softly, more to yourself than to him.

As if exhausted of all his options, Steve’s grip on you loosens. Blue eyes boring into yours, reflecting the helplessness that you can also detect in your bond.

“I told you to forget about it.” His hands cup your face again, thumbs swiping away your tears. “Why can’t you just forget about that night, why can’t you just let me make you happy?”

More than anything, you wish you had an answer for him.

***  

Despite talking lesser and lesser and slowly becoming strangers by day, the magnetic pull between the two of you increases at night. Where it’s dark and warm and you can pretend it’s all okay, that’s when Steve holds you and you let yourself be held by him every single night.

Which is why you wake up with a start, on the bed completely empty besides you and the newly resurrected Steve Junior.  A glance at your phone tells you it’s past midnight – so, where’s Steve? Blindly, you reach out for him – but he’s not there and, despite everything, this troubles you.

He’s left you, the dark voice at the back of your head cackles. You thought you could get away with being upset with him for this long, and now he’s left you, just like he said he would if you got out of line.

You’re not even fully awake before you’re on your feet, trying to keep your dizziness at bay. It’s another symptom of your pregnancy, another reminder of the secret you’re holding inside of you, another reminder that you need to tell someone. But right now, all you can focus on is where is Steve?

You find him on the small balcony that overlooks the back of the house. Elbows resting on the railing and blonde hair looking silver in the moonlight. He looks back as if he senses you, cigarette between his lips and a cloud of smoke surrounding him before he turns his back to you once more.

Before you can change your mind and go back to bed, you venture forward to stand beside the alpha, heart thudding as it always does whenever you’re near him. After days of his hot and cold behaviour and your own depleting moods, you realise you don’t know how to act around him or what to say. A gust of cold wind blows and you shiver, but it gives you this sudden burst of courage to speak.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” You blurt out. It’s the only thing you can think of to say; you’ve seen Steve smoke here and there a few times, at parties or gatherings with his friends. But never at home, in the middle of the night, with two empty beer cans rolling around by his feet.

To your surprise, Steve puts the cigarette out. Dropping it to the floor and stomping on it before turning away from you to exhale the final puff of smoke. You watch as it swirls into the night air, dissipating almost immediately.

“Sharon used to say that a lot.” He remarks, and hearing his ex’s name on his tongue feels like a punch to your gut – he’s never voluntarily mentioned her before. You turn around to leave, but his next words stop you short. “It’s funny, because I never gave a fuck about what she said. Or any of the other girls I was with.” He looks at you squarely, “I cheated on all of them too. And I never thought anything of it.”

It feels like there’s needles in your throat when you swallow, tumbling all the way down to your stomach and tearing you up from the inside out. Why is he telling you this?

“I thought it would be the same with you. You’re just an omega after all, why should I care about what you say or how you feel?” The full moon’s reflecting in his eyes, giving them an alien silver glow that makes him look like a stranger. And maybe he is a stranger, because he’s never opened up like this with you before.

“But I do.” He says it so quietly, it almost gets lost in the night air. Another gust of chilly wind has your teeth chattering, goosebumps covering your bare arms as you stand there and stare at him in only your nightgown. You don’t protest when Steve shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, smoothening the lapels and his fingers linger at your collarbone. For a split second, he leans closer, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before sighing.

“I’ve hurt girls in the past and I’ve never cared. But you…” He turns back, looking over the balcony railing, and you wait a few beats, your mind silently urging him to finish his thought.

“I thought I could cheat on you and things would be fine after that. That I’d scare you into acting right and we’d just go back to how things were.” The words tumble out of his mouth quickly, as if he’s spitting them out before his ego catches up and swallows them back into his brain.

“Sharon warned me about you.” You blurt out.

His head whips around, faster than the frenzied winds that surround the two of you, “You spoke to her?”

“I–I didn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe her because I liked you so much.”

“I know you did.” Steve cocks his head to the side, looking at you almost curiously. The stars dance in his eyes, and tufts of his blonde hair blow up with the strong wind, “How could you like me that much, despite everything?”

You don’t know what to say. How could you like him that much? Despite everything he’d done to you? Was it because the forced mating compelled you to feel things for him? No – your feelings were more complex than that. They’ve been there since the beginning, when he would bully you and you wished to God that he would like you. To after he mated you, and how you’d persuaded yourself that he’d changed, that he did like you now. To when he confessed to cheating, and your whole world broke down…

It's less of a realization and more of a fact: you like Steve a lot – more than Peter and more than your mother. Because you could live without Peter and you could even live without your mother. But you don’t think you could ever live without Steve.

When you don’t answer, Steve sucks in his breath and looks away again, “You’re pure, you know? The way you act, how good you are. And it… confuses me.”

You have to grip the railing hard to keep yourself rooted in reality – was Steve genuinely confiding in you?

“I’ve never second-guessed myself before.” He says after a long, long pause. As if he’s got a script pictured in his mind and he keeps mentally rewriting it and scratching things out. “But you… You make me second-guess everything.” It sounds like an accusation, but a resigned one; and you focus on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I shouldn’t have made you think I was going to leave you. Because I won’t. Ever. I can promise you that right now.”

You nod, tentatively taking a step towards him and he mirrors your actions, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek. It’s instinctive when you lean into his touch, feel the rough pads of his fingers rub against the soft skin of your face. He traces your cheekbones, and he’s so gentle. You wish you could freeze this moment, because Steve’s emotions are like the changing tide. Would he be this tender tomorrow or the day after – or even two minutes from now?

“You should go back to bed.” He says abruptly, as if on cue.

Why is your heart sinking? Why do you want to stay? But you listen to him anyway, a large part of you will always listen to him, always want to be good for him. And it’s when you’re a good few steps away that you hear him clear his throat.

“Omega?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“I’m sorry. For all of it.”

A coolness spreads across your chest, like a pleasant, soothing balm that calms you from the inside out. Your heart steadies, and you feel like you can breathe again.

***

“He’s not in his room, Steve.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“He’s our running back, we need him. Especially today.”

“Jensen can play his position. Now let’s just fucking go.”

Behind the closed door of your bedroom, you can hear Steve and Sam’s muffled voices out in the hallway. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but the two of them seem to be growing collectively louder and louder.

The tension seems to be running high between the two of them – you’ve hardly seen them speak since the day Sam apologised to you and Steve exploded on him. But the two alphas seem even more stressed out today, with the final football match of the season against a rival college in less than a few hours.

“Jensen can’t play as good as Bucky.” Sam quips.

“Bucky’s not here.” Steve says through clenched teeth, “He’s probably out somewhere, either passed out or hungover. And we don’t have time to start a manhunt for him so let’s just go.”

The bedroom door bursts open and you freeze as Steve storms in past you. The two of you haven’t spoken since last night when he’d apologised on the balcony. Granted, he’d been busy all day prepping for the game tonight – last minute workouts and strategizing with his team. And you had about three loads of laundry to get through since you’d been neglecting things like that for the past few weeks now.

And yet the lack of contact between the two of you made you wonder whether he was already regretting his apology. Or worse – what if he was going to pretend that he never apologised at all?

If anything, Steve seems more riled up and on edge now than ever, rummaging through the already messy bedroom (you had neglected cleaning too, and it’s not like Steve himself ever cleaned). “Where the fuck is it??” He murmurs under his breath, tossing clothes out of the closet and onto the floor.

“Wh-What are you looking for?” You ask him quietly, wondering whether he can detect the awkwardness in your tone. Sure, he’d apologised – but where do the two of you stand now? In some awkward limbo between “okay” and “not okay”?

Steve sighs, stepping away from the closet and grabbing his gym bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he makes his way over to you.

“Nothing.” He murmurs, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You gulp, wanting to say something, anything. Maybe wish him luck for the game? But you’re too shy, lips feeling like they’re glued together and heart beating harder than ever. Steve opens his mouth to say something else, and then–

“STEVE, LET’S GO!” Sam bellows from downstairs.

Steve leaves without another word.

You spend the day doing all the chores you’d neglected for the past few weeks. It’s crazy to you how much of a difference two words can bring about. You’d spent the past few weeks lying listlessly in bed, feeling numbingly indifferent half the time and cripplingly stressed out for the other half. And you’re still stressed – how can you not be? Pregnant within your first year of college and you still haven’t told a soul.

But it’s somewhat easier now to make a mental list of everything – washing and drying three hampers of clothes (you wonder if you can put Steve Junior in the washing machine but after seeing the precarious stitches on his neck, you conclude that handwashing him would be safer). You also venture downstairs to clean the kitchen (and it’ll never cease to shock you, what a mess three alphas can make).

It's only when you’re deep into cleaning the bedroom that the vacuum cleaner catches on something poking out from under Steve’s side of the bed. A rectangular book with a black velvet cover – it seems unassuming enough yet it piques your curiosity anyways. Maybe because it’s got Steve’s scent all over it.

You expect blank pages – Steve’s not the type to make notes – but nothing could truly prepare you for what you actually see when you open the book.

It’s you.

Over and over again. Drawn on one page, then again on the next. You flip five pages down, and there you are again. Different renditions of you on almost every single page and the book is more than half filled up. You in pencil sketches, you in watercolour; there’s one of you with a pen in hand, clearly taking notes. Another of you sitting under a tree, drinking from a juice-box, one of you on your phone, and plenty more of you studying – always wearing your oversized hoodie.

The most recent one is of you sleeping, wearing his jersey with the holes in it and Steve Junior clutched tightly in your arms. It’s with shaky breath that you trace a trembling finger over the masterful strokes, admiring the accuracy of the teddy bear’s blue bow tie – all the way down to the loose threads! And the attention to detail is astounding – your hair, your skin, the slight furrow between your brows…

It's a lot to take in. Had Steve drawn these? He must have! You didn’t even know Steve could draw like this because never once had he done it in front of you. And how long had he had this book for? There were so many drawings – was it from before you and him got together? Carefully, you close the sketchbook and place it neatly back under the bed.

Almost as if you’re in a trance, you walk around to your own side of the bed to where your little makeshift nest is. What’s left of it anyways, since you haven’t really kept up with the upkeep and right now all it consists of is your teddy bear and Steve’s jersey with the holes in it.

His lucky jersey. Was that what he’d been looking for earlier?

Steve Junior looks at you with his coal black eyes as if conveying to you exactly what you’re thinking. Thoughts racing, you stroke his fur softly, the action reminding you of the rare occasions when Steve would fall asleep before you with his face buried in the crook of your neck. When you’d card your fingers through his hair because you were too shy to do it when he was awake.

You feel the sudden urge to do it now as you hold onto his lucky jersey. The one he was looking for. The one he probably needs right now. Right?

Grabbing your phone to check the time, you find that it’s already early evening – the game would be almost over by now. Could you possibly make it in time? Would this even be worth it?

You seem to have made up your mind before you can even begin to answer any of those questions.

***

“Let her in, that’s the quarterback’s girlfriend.”

Getting into the college stadium is easier than you thought it would be. In fact, it’s surprisingly easy, as if the universe is paving a path for you straight to Steve. You thought your significance at university was that of an ant surrounded by giants – but the guys hanging by the ticket booth recognise you immediately, one of them even offering to personally take you inside.

“You should go to the box by the front, that’s where all the girlfriends hang out.”

Never in your life have you been to a college football game before – or a football game of any variety for that matter. Feeling completely out of your depth, you put all your faith into this guy you’ve just met as he guides you through the waves and waves of people. You try your hardest to swallow down your anxiety – you hate large crowds – your nails digging into your palms while your heart races, already wondering whether coming here was a mistake.

“I’m Colin, by the way.” The guy says before pausing to look up at the gigantic scoreboard, “Uh-oh. We’re still down by a few points. That’s why I was outside, couldn’t handle the pressure – even as just a spectator.”

Down by a few points? You clutch Steve’s lucky jersey harder between your fingers, wondering what exactly you thought you’d accomplish by coming here. The game was in full swing – it’s not like you could toss the jersey into the field and hope Steve would notice and pick it up.

“I just think today’s a bad day for the team,” Colin explains, “Steve seems distracted – well, that’s what my friend Jake told me. Jake’s on the team too, but he’s usually on reserve. Except he’s playing today because Bucky didn’t show up, and if you ask me–”

Colin’s voice drowns out as your nerves go into overdrive. Slowly, after ages of weaving through a very intense and rowdy crowd, the two of you make it to a cluster of seats in the front row. A bunch of cheerleaders are standing there in a group, biting their nails with frowns and looks of concern etched on their faces – the girlfriends.

You gulp, glancing down at your own attire and knowing you’ll stick out like a sour thumb. All your new clothes that Steve had bought you were currently in the washing machine – leaving you with the one piece of clothing that you hadn’t worn in a long time. Your oversized hoodie.

Not that it matters right now.

“Well, there you go. Front row seats to all the action – although it’s looking pretty bleak right now, so I’d look away if I was you.” Colin grimaces, glancing at the scoreboard once more. “We’re down by five points and there isn’t much time left on the clock.”

You manage a tight smile, feeling like a tiny fish inside the Pacific Ocean. “Thank you for helping me, Colin.” You say softly.

“No worries.” Colin’s already walking away – clearly, he has no faith left in this game, “Oh, and please don’t tell Steve I spoke to you, okay? He’s probably going to be in a bad mood when – if – we lose this game, and he usually takes his anger out on Jake or me, and this’ll just make it worse, and–”

And then he’s gone, and you make your way past the cluster of cheerleaders, whispering out a soft “excuse me” every time you make eye contact with one of them. They all look you up and down, but thankfully don’t say anything as you walk over to the front, where you now have a clear view of the field.

Steve’s got his team in a huddle, yelling out instructions that you can’t hear. He’s in his blue jersey with his helmet under his arm, blonde hair fluffy and messy and his face pale yet flushed at the same time. And he does look stressed and distracted just how Colin had said. Would he be angry if his team lost? Would he be mad at you for coming? With Steve, one never really knew what to expect, and you suddenly feel extremely foolish, standing here in your ill-fitted hoodie with a jersey full of holes in your hands.

All the players take their positions for the final few minutes of the game. From your limited understanding of football, you can tell that the stakes are very high. The girl next to you can’t stop biting her nails and clutching onto her friend’s arm.

Your eyes are trained on Steve, focused only on him despite the fact that there’s ten other players wearing the same blue jersey and helmet as him. That’s when you feel the mark on your neck suddenly prickle, and Steve’s heard jerks up at that exact moment as if on cue, turning back to look directly at you.

His face is obscured by his helmet, but it makes your breath catch in your throat all the same. Like it did every time he’d strut into the lecture hall, every time you’d see him in the hallways, and those times when he’d show up to your dorm room. He’s yards away from you, but you shoot him a small smile – it’s the first time you’ve smiled at him in a long time now and you wonder if he can even see it.

The whistle blows and there’s a flurry of movement. For a handful of seconds which feel like ages, you don’t even know where the ball is. Everything’s moving so fast, and a glance up at the gigantic timer shows you there’s barely any time left. But the seconds feel like hours, the anticipation growing high not only within you but in the crowd around you. You lean forward over the rails, eyes scanning the field and you see a blur of blue with a handful of players chasing behind it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve run so fast, yard after yard, as if he’s racing against the clock – which he is. And then his teammate – all the way from the other end – heaves the ball downfield. You see it soaring in the air, so quick that it’s easy to miss. And there’s mere seconds left on the clock, and there’s about four defenders surrounding Steve but he’s gotten past the goal line, and he jumps up, and –

There’s a split second of silence before the stadium erupts in cheers. You realise you’d been holding your breath, and you blink several times before you see the ball in Steve’s hands, hoisted up high. And he’s cleared the goal line, and his teammates are charging at him, whooping in the air.

“I can’t believe it!” The cheerleader next to you screeches in glee, grabbing her friend as they both jump up and down, “A touchdown! We won!”

And sure enough, the huge screen at the front flashes “touchdown!” in huge block letters, and everyone seems to be beside themselves. You exhale in relief, the cheerleaders’ infectious excitement rubbing off on you as you can’t help but smile. Steve is swarmed by his team, and they lift him up. And now you can see him more clearly, see when his eyes zero in on you.

On the shoulders of his teammates, but he’s looking directly at you. You want to give him a little wave but you feel too shy, and you wonder whether you should leave now since he’d obviously want to celebrate with his team. But, as if he somehow senses your intentions, it takes Steve about a millisecond to get back down on the ground, and then he breaks into a run – straight towards you!

You grip onto the railing in anticipation, and Steve crosses the distance in almost record time. There are people in the crowd who’ve invaded the pitch, congratulating his teammates and staring after him as he makes a beeline towards you. Wide-eyed, you stare as he gets closer and closer, his cheeks flushed pink and chest puffed out as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“You’re here.” He says, slightly out of breath.

“Y-Yeah, you’re uh–” You’re suddenly at a loss for words, but you hold up his lucky jersey as if that’s a sufficient enough explanation. Clearing your throat, you add: “Congratulations, Steve. You played really well.”

He stares at you for a moment, and then before you know what’s happening, his hands wrap around your hips, lifting you up over the barrier and into his arms. You squeak, arms instinctively winding around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist.

He kisses you, and there’s an explosion of summer sunshine behind your eyes and all around you. The scent of firewood and an intense summer day interweaves through all your senses – all you can taste, smell, breathe is him. And it’s you who pulls him closer, returning his kiss with double the enthusiasm, your lips working against his as if you’re willingly ready to be consumed in him.

Steve draws back, only to kiss you again. One peck, another peck, and then one of his hands slips up and cups your cheek, pulling your face even closer as his tongue probes against yours and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip, leaving you breathless yet wanting even more when he suddenly pulls away.

“I love you.”

The words seem to burst out of him – and it seems like both of you stop breathing as soon as he says it. As if you’re both encased in this bubble and the people around you don’t matter and those three words are bouncing around the confines of this bubble, echoing and growing louder, embracing you like a hug.

And your whole world stops. There are hundreds of people around you but they all seem to freeze in place, and you can hear your heart thumping to the same beat as his. And his eyes are clear blue and earnest, and you can see your reflection in them. Shocked, surprised, caught off guard yet every cell in your body rapidly filling up with hope.

“Don’t say that…” You breathe, “D-Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Or else I’ll believe you.

“I mean it.” Steve presses his forehead against yours, gripping you so tightly that you feel like you can’t breathe – but in a good way. “I mean it, omega. I’m in love with you.”

He savours each word as he says it, and you feel this hot and cold feeling – rushes of it – throughout your body. Sparks in the pit of your tummy like tiny butterflies fluttering excitably, or firecrackers ready to erupt in a shower of what feels like pure happiness. You feel light, like you could float forever as his words keep repeating inside your head like a song.

Up until this moment, you’ve second-guessed almost every single word he’s said to you. But why aren’t you second-guessing this? Why is your whole body trusting and believing him, erupting in elation as he holds you close? He loves you. Steve loves you! Love! You don’t think anyone’s ever told you they’ve loved you before. Or made you feel this strange feeling; this heady mixture of wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, of feeling so overwhelmed and yet so at home, and, and and–

“Steve, I’m pregnant.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. And maybe you don’t want to stop them anymore, because the relief you feel is almost instantaneous.

And Steve stares at you for the longest time, and you focus on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes rapidly, pink lips parted slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. For one horrific second, you think he’s going to drop you and leave, and take his “I love you” back and tell you it’s over. But he holds you even tighter, and you realise you’re moving as he walks the two of you to a door off to the side, leading to the changing rooms.

Once inside, he sets you down gently on your feet and pins you against the wall, trapping you against his considerably larger frame, looking down at you with an almost foreign look on his face, as if he can’t quite grasp what you’re saying.

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats.

“Yes, I am.”

“Pregnant.” Steve says it again, more to himself than to you, cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones lightly. “My omega. Pregnant.”

“Yes.” The more you confirm it and the more he says it, the realer it seems. But it’s crazy how much less scary the prospect of pregnancy sounds when the word is coming out of his mouth. “I took three tests; they all came out positive. My period never came–”

His lips press against yours in a heady kiss that leaves you reeling, and he’s holding you so tightly that you feel light-headed. “My girl carrying my baby, just like I said you would.” Steve whispers against your lips. A smile breaks out across his face, “Baby, you’ve made me so proud.”

Proud. He’s proud. Proud of you.  

He gets down on his knees in front of you, your breath catching in your throat because he’s so big. Even on his knees, his face is level with your chest. His hands, so big and warm, trail softly down your figure – the gentlest he’s ever been. Fingers splayed out and stroking carefully over your stomach, he lifts your hoodie up and presses his face against your soft, exposed skin.

“You’re so tiny,” he breathes, almost in wonder. “So little… How’re you gonna carry my baby inside you when you’re so little?”

Your chest rises as you inhale deeply, a soft whisper of “I don’t know…” leaving your mouth.

Butterfly-light kisses trail up and down your stomach, his lips dragging against your skin, tongue peeking out to lick, nip and suck at your belly – as if he wants to devour you. You get the strong urge to card your fingers through his hair, but you’re so shy that you hesitate, jerking forward instead when the tip of his tongue probes inside your belly button.

Steve looks up, the wonder in his eyes now replaced with a familiar, devilish sparkle.

“I always knew I’d knock you up before the year was over.” He boasts cockily, one hand still firmly stroking your stomach like he’s grown addicted to the feeling. “Didn’t I say it from day one? That I was gonna fuck my baby into you? And now look at you, knocked up like the good, dutiful omega I knew you’d be under my wing.”

He sounds how he did before, the same cocky Steve. But there’s an underlying lightness to his words, this infectious excitement that’s so different from your own cold fear of being pregnant.

“You don’t think it’s too soon, Steve? I mean, I don’t think I’m ready–”

“You’re ready.” He interrupts you, words spoken between kisses against your stomach – it seems like he can’t refrain from kissing you there – “It’s an omega’s duty to have her alpha’s babies, and didn’t I say I’ve got a plan? You, me, and my baby – it’s all coming together now.”

“B-But what about college? You’re graduating now but I’ve still got two more years left, and–”

“You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.” Steve cuts you off again, standing up to his full height so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. With his shoulder pads on, he looks even bigger than usual, “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”

Your concerns are swallowed up by his kiss, and his hand slips down to hook under your thighs. He picks you up easily, and he’s so strong; he only needs one arm to carry you, his other hand cupping your face and pulling you in for another kiss – as if he can’t seem to get enough.

“Poor little baby omega,” He coos, laying you down on a nearby bench and climbing on top of you. You can hear the roar of the crowd close by, everyone celebrating this monumental win for the football team. You know for a fact there are people milling about near you. Steve is undeterred, however, kissing down your neck as he pushes your hoodie up to expose your chest.

“You must’ve been so stressed, huh baby?” More kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off hastily, throwing it somewhere behind him as his eyes zero in on your bare breasts.

“Y-Yeah, I was.” You can’t help but sniffle, sounding small and pathetic but you can’t help it. Telling Steve about the baby feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, the agonising stress inside your head easing bit by bit as Steve’s large hands squeeze and grope your tits roughly.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I know your little brain is tired from thinking so much, now you just leave all the thinking to daddy, okay? All you have to focus on is being a mommy.” He buries his face in your breasts, nuzzling and inhaling your soft skin, squeezing and pushing your tits together till they hurt while you whimper beneath him.

“St-Steve, someone might – ah! – someone might see us!”

“Shhh, didn’t I just tell you not to worry about anything?” He takes your hoodie off completely, and now you’re topless and completely at your alpha’s mercy. He grins wolfishly down at you, “Now, did you know that pregnant baby omegas like yourself are meant to feed their alphas too?”

Your eyes pop open, “Wh-What?”

Steve smirks, palming your tits roughly before rubbing one of your stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You’re half enamoured by the thrill of it, and half paranoid that someone’s going to walk in and see all this, but Steve doesn’t seem to care.

“You didn’t know that you’re meant to feed daddy too? God, you really are a baby, aren’t you?” He pinches your nipple before his tongue peaks out and licks around it, making it even more erect. “All pregnant omegas have to let their alphas have a taste of their milk.”

“I haven’t – ah! – I haven’t read about that anywhere!” You try not to moan.

“That’s because you’re just a baby,” Steve coos before encasing your nipple in his mouth and giving suckling on it not so gently. And the action sends thrills straight down to your core, making you gasp breathlessly and clutch onto his broad shoulders. He releases your nipple with a pop, “Now omega, are you gonna let daddy drink your little mommy milk?”

You squirm, “Y-Yes?”

He twists your nipple roughly, “Say it, then.”

“Y-Yes, you can drink it.”

Another pinch. “Say it properly.”

“Yes, you can drink my mommy milk!” You cry out.

Steve smiles, pulling your cheek condescendingly, “Good girl. Not that I would need your permission, since you’re mine after all.” He gives your nipple a feather-light kiss before encasing it between his lips again, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud.

“And address me properly, or I’ll call the whole football team and make them watch while I fuck you.” You can feel him harden at the thought, “I’ll show them exactly how I knocked you up in the first place.”

“Daddy…” you whine, “N-Not in front of anyone, please!”

Steve licks his lips as his eyes drink you in, like a carnal wolf admiring his prey. His gaze focuses on between your legs, his hangs grabbing at your thighs and spreading them apart. Lewdly, he cups your mound and you automatically buck your hips upwards, making him smirk at your neediness. Grinding the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, you want to hide your face in embarrassment when you see the wet patch forming on your leggings.

“You’re going to be so much hornier now that you’re pregnant,” He breathes, looking at the wet spot between your legs as if he’s entranced. Suddenly, he strikes you; palm slapping against your clothed pussy while his other hand holds your legs apart. You gasp, sparks of pleasure flaring up inside you as he repeatedly slaps your clothed cunt.

“Tell me, baby omega. Who knocked you up?”

“Y-You did!” You cry out desperately, trying to clamber upwards to grab at his shoulders except he easily pins you back down. His head dips down too, straight between your legs till he’s face to face with your pussy. And you wish to God your leggings and panties weren’t in the way, but Steve doesn’t seem to care. His tongue peaks out past his pink lips, licking a stripe up your covered cunt, and you convulse, “Oh fuck!”

“Tell me how you got knocked up, baby.” Steve speaks against your pussy, and you can feel his hot breath through the thin material of your leggings. He lets out a hum before he takes the material between his lips, sucking at the wet spot and making you throb down there, “Tell me how I filled up your little baby cunt and fucked my baby into you.”

You hesitate, and earn a harsh slap to your ass that has you hissing in pain. “Say it!”

“Y-You filled up my baby cunt and knocked me up!” You cry out desperately, rubbing your pussy against his face as he continues to suck your leggings, his nose grazing against your covered folds and making you want him so badly, it hurts. “Daddy – ah! – y-you fucked your baby into me, okay? P-Please!”

It’s insane how quickly he renders you to be delirious, but after weeks of not being intimate with him, it’s like this is exactly what you need. The depravity, the filth, the fear that just about anyone could walk in at any moment. And it’s also the pride you see in his face – alpha is proud of you for getting pregnant, and that just makes you want him even more.

“You’re just a tiny little baby,” Steve sits back up, looking down at you as if you’re some ravishing creature and not just a desperate omega practically humping against him, face contorted in need for her alpha. “How’re you growing my baby inside of you, when you’re a little fucking baby yourself, huh? Daddy’s little baby.”

He peels your leggings off, leaving you in just your panties in the changing rooms where anyone could walk in at any moment. Pressing kisses against your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your core, and you’re wiggling underneath him, thrusting up into air because you’re so needy for him.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, baby.” He breathes, sinking down to his knees on the side of the bench and grabbing your calves to pull you to the edge of it. His face between your thighs now, you can feel his hot breath against your panty-covered core. “Gonna keep you so happy. My little wife… I’ll give you everything you deserve.”

Your heart lurches at the word “wife.” He’s never referred to you as that before, but you don’t have the time to mull upon it when Steve’s teeth enclose around your wet panties, pulling them and letting the elastic stretch before he lets go and it snaps back against your pussy, making you whimper softly. He grins, taking the sodden fabric into his mouth again, this time sucking all your slick from the material while your eyes pop at the sight, pussy clenching around air.

“I love you, baby. You’ve made me so happy today. I want to make you happy too.” His voice is dripping with sweetness ��� and usually you’d be questioning: is he being sincere? Does he mean it? Should I trust him? But just hearing him say it, hearing him say “I love you,” it’s like it makes you stop thinking straight, makes you not want to question him, makes you want to believe him because what do you truly have left if you don’t believe him?

And maybe – just maybe – he does mean it.

“The mother of my child,” Steve coos, blowing cool air on your hot core, and your slick is dripping down to pool underneath you on the bench as he continues to finger the material of your panties, “Aren’t you happy that you’re pregnant, baby? Aren’t you happy that you made daddy so proud?”

You bite your lip, “H-Honestly, I’m scared– ah! – I’m too young, we’re both too young. There’re so many things we have to think about and consider, and– oh! Oh my God!”

Steve chooses that moment to rip your panties in half and dip his head down, pushing back the hood of your clit and encasing the throbbing button between his lips. He sucks down hard, and you automatically raise your hips to grind up against his face, leaving it glistening with streaks of your wetness. His hand lands an open-palmed slap against your bare pussy, the sound so lewd and wet as it echoes across the changing room.

“I asked you if you’re happy for making me proud.”

You gulp, hands reaching down to grab at his blonde tufts – something you’d been itching to do all day. Slowly, you nod your head. “Y-Yeah.” You whisper, “A-Always wanna make you proud.”

“Good girl. That’s what I thought.” He goes back to your clit, spitting down on it. His saliva pools around your button and he uses his thumb to spread it, circling and rubbing it around and around till you can’t take the intensity, and hump up against his hand. “I already told you not to think about anything else, except being a mommy and making me proud.”

Steve lifts your thighs up and props them over his shoulders, and your ankles automatically lock around him, encasing his head between your legs so he’s face to face with your core. And that’s when you feel his tongue, hard and pointed, flick against your clit, once, twice, three times till you’re crying out his name, your thighs already thrashing except his tight grip keeps them pinned to his shoulders.

“Look at your little button, all swollen up and cute.” Steve spits once more, his saliva trailing down your mound to pool around your clit once more. “You missed having your daddy make you feel good, didn’t you?”

“I…I, uh – Ow!” You gasp when he slaps your ass, the sound resonating across the room and you wonder why no one has walked in yet.

“I wasn’t asking you; I was asking her.” Steve licks his lips, looking straight at your glistening folds and using his pointed finger to swipe up and down your wetness. “Look at your little baby pussy, she’s crying because she’s so happy that daddy’s here to take care of her again.” And that’s all it takes for him to bury his face in your wetness once more, enveloping your sensitive folds between his lips and suctioning harshly.

“Mm, fuck, daddy!” You whimper softly, and he reaches up to squeeze your breast possessively.

Licking and sucking his way back up to your clit, his teeth graze against your swollen bundle of nerves, making you throb like crazy as the sparks begin to build up. “So fuckin’ puffy, just for daddy, huh?” He questions, and you gasp out in agreement, your movements getting needier and more desperate as you begin to hump into his face in earnest, your fists tightening around his hair as you practically smear your pussy over his face, feeling his tongue, his teeth, his lips, his nose, even the light stubble he’s starting to grow out – all of it creating delicious friction against you.

Your body is rocked by so many different sensations: he’s practically making out with your pussy as his mouth suctions over it, lapping at your wetness like he’s starved. His tongue, so hard and pointed, fucks into your hole, his nose grazing against your clit before he licks a flat stripe up from your fuckhole up your slit, ending with a hearty suck up on your clit before biting down on the bundle of nerves not so lightly.

“That’s right, baby. My horny fuckin’ little omega, rub your baby cunt on daddy’s face, use me to make yourself cum. Fuck! I said rub yourself on my fucking face! Harder, before I change my mind.” Steve’s teetering between nice and mean, and the heady mix of both makes you scream out and clutch his hair harder, his voice muffled and sending vibrations against your clit. “Hump on daddy’s face, baby, c’mon. Make yourself feel good, show daddy how much you missed me.”

Your orgasm is doubly intense, and for the second time in your life, your juices squirt out, streaming all over Steve’s face and coating him in your slick. And, like a man starved, he wastes no time in swiping his cheek and sucking his finger, his eyes training on your pulsating pussy as you clench and release, over and over again, thighs tightening around his face as you cry out, “Oh! Oh my, d-daddy!”

“Good baby,” He praises you, prying your legs off his shoulders, “Doesn’t it feel so good to just switch off and let your daddy do all the thinking?”

Hands and legs limp like jelly and every thought and worry slowly leaving your mind, you manage to sniffle out a soft yet ashamedly honest, “Y-Yeah.”

You’re completely limp in his arms as he picks you up by the waist, sitting down on the bench and setting you down on his lap, your back against his chest. But not before undoing his fly and pulling his dick out. It looks angry and red and somehow bigger than ever – as if it’s about to explode. You gulp – it’s been so long since he’s been inside you. Would he still fit?

Like a steel rod, his cock pokes out from between his legs, resting pretty between your own thighs that are parted by his hands. Your wetness has spread all the way from your folds to down your legs, and it’s mildly embarrassing just how needy you are for him at this moment. So needy, in fact, that you surprise yourself – your hands grabbing at his dick as if the omega inside you just can’t help it.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses, covering your hand with his own, “Look at your tiny baby hands on my daddy dick.” His tongue is lapping and sucking at his mark on your neck – his favourite spot – but his eyes are locked on the scene in front of him – you palming his dick almost hesitantly, as if you’re scared of it yet want it badly at the same time – which you do.

You swallow harshly, “P-Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?”

You duck your head, too shy to voice your desire but his hand grips your chin and makes you look up, twisting your head back slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Steve says softly, beguilingly with blue eyes sparkling, “I already told you I’ll give you whatever you want – you just have to tell me.”

You surge upwards to kiss him, suddenly remembering how he’d rejected your kisses the last time the two of you had had sex. But this time, he captures your lips with his, ravenously making out with you and his tongue dominates yours, licking up every crevice of your mouth like it’s his job to kiss you. Till you can’t breathe and yet you still don’t want to pull away, and it’s him who finally does.

“Or we could just sit here, and I could feel you.” Steve muses, hand gliding his dick back and forth against the soft skin of your thighs before slapping it against your pussy. You gasp and convulse, and he only chuckles as he repeats the action, and you can’t help but close your legs around his dick, as if forcing him to put it inside you.

“Alpha please!” You mewl softly.

“I guess your pregnancy hormones have made you even needier now, huh omega?” He snickers, using his hand to guide yours up and down his dick, making you jack him off. And you can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick dick as it pulses under your hand. And the omega inside you is feral, you want him so badly it’s unreal. All these weeks of no intimacy have you starved in a different way – because being mated to him means always wanting him, always yearning for him, and having no willpower against his charms.

It's with burning cheeks and tears of need welling in your eyes that you utter: “P-Please, alpha! N-Need you inside me, your knot… So bad. So bad!”

“Why? You’re already knocked up.” He’s tracing the tip of his dick against your clit, holding you down as you thrash on his lap. And you don’t understand his willpower – did he not want you as badly as you wanted him? But he continues to slap and stroke his dick against your folds, coating his length in your cream, grabbing you by the hips and grazing you on top of it, physically grinding you against his hard dick yet not putting it inside you.

“Aww, poor baby. Look at your cute little baby cunt, all drippy and leaking all over daddy. You still want my dick, baby? Still want my knot even if you’re already pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” You want to tell him not to tease you, but you know that he’s your alpha and you can’t really tell him what to do. You know you’re already submissive by nature but in his arms right now, you feel like you’re completely at his mercy, like you’d do anything for him. “N-Need you, daddy. So bad. Just… Just gotta feel you inside… P-Please!”

Steve swears, grabbing the base of his dick and lining it up against your leaking pussy. But he has to lift you up by the hips and slam you back down to get his fat, bulbous tip to finally breach your tiny hole. And oh my God – was it possible that he felt even bigger than ever before? He’s barely halfway inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim already, slippery walls convulsing and crying around his fat cock as it penetrates into you.

“What a tight fuckin’ baby cunt,” Steve grits out, squeezing your tits till it hurts, “God, fuck! Never had a pussy this tight before, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

He’s so big, it almost feels like it’s the first time – how could you ever have gotten used to such a huge dick? And he’s big everywhere: his muscular legs which hold your entire body weight, his thick arms that hold your thrashing limbs at bay. All six foot six inches of him dwarf you completely. You feel so light, so fragile, so tiny on top of him, his dick slowly going deeper and deeper inside of you, practically ripping you in two.

“S-So big, daddy…” You moan, because it hurts yet it hurts so good, and you love the delicious friction you feel.

“Can’t even go all the way inside you, baby.” Steve say softly, as if he himself is surprised by his own girth and by how small you are. “Fuck, you’re tinier than I remember. Guess I’m too big for you. Your cute little baby cunt can’t take me in, omega.”

“Please! F-Force it in.” Something carnal takes over you then, and you’re surprised by your own words; they sound so desperate, so lust-ridden and unabashed – like you’d die if he isn’t fully inside you.

And Steve growls, pushing out of you and picking you up – and he only needs one arm to do it – before forcibly turning you around so that you’re chest to chest with him. He forces you back down on his dick, and it’s so hard and imposing as it pierces into you, and you can’t help but clamber closer to Steve, both of you gasping against each other’s lips when he finally fills you up till the hilt, and the pain is so deliciously excruciating, you feel like you’ll break in half.

“I think I may have broke your pussy, baby.” He whispers, as you marvel at how much of a tight fit it is, his dick so snugly inside you, stretching out your walls as far as they’ll go around his fat girth. You truly do feel broken, but in the best way, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer.

“D-Don’t care, alpha.” You don’t know what’s suddenly come over you, maybe it’s the fact that he told you he loves you, maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex with him for weeks, maybe it’s because you’ve finally told him you’re pregnant and he’s proud of you, he’s promised to take care of you. Or maybe it’s something else altogether, but your desire for him has never been this high, this intense. Even Steve looks surprised.

Slowly, he starts bouncing you up and down on his dick. And you don’t have to do any work, just sit there and let him manoeuvre you, let him control your movements like a puppeteer, like how he controls every other aspect of your life. And maybe it’s time to admit that you like it that way, maybe it’s time to stop fighting with the omega inside you. Maybe this, here with him, is where you belong.

“You like me splitting you open like this, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss that has you grabbing his face and pulling him closer. Wanting to touch him and smell him and feel him and hold him and everything in between. His dick is hitting that special spot inside of you, making you cry out with every thrust, not caring that you’re being loud and this is a public place and anyone could walk in.

“I love you so much, baby.” And there it is again, those three words once again, penetrating into your heart and tattooing themselves upon it. His hand suddenly grabs yours, holding it close and pressing kisses all over your palm and fingers – and you’re reminded of the night where you’d begged him not to leave you, and how you’d done the same thing.

“I’m never letting you go, omega.” Steve speaks between kisses, all the while his hips are a blur as they move up and down, thrusting inside you like he wants to keep the two of you connected forever. “I’m gonna make you my housewife, keep you locked up and safe so no one can ever hurt you or my baby. I’m gonna take care of you, both of you.”

And you’re nodding feverishly, whispering “okay” over and over again, grinding down to meet his thrusts, biting your lip in bliss when his hand snakes down to where you two meet, his fingers deftly rubbing your clit, heightening your pleasure as his cock continues to tear you in half.

“My omega, all mine,” He growls, balls smacking against your skin as he fucks into you, your poor fuckhole so used and abused yet you don’t even care as you drip all over him, the pleasure growing steadily inside you, coils tightening as he fucks you like only he ever could. “Won’t let anyone else touch you, speak to you, even look at you anymore. You’re my property – my little wife knocked up with my kid. Won’t let anything come between us, not again.”

Through your delirium, you manage to lock eyes with him, clutching at him desperately, and your words come out so softly, and you feel so small when you ask him, “Y-Y-You promise?”

He stalls for a second, just a second, before his thrusts resume, hitting deeper if that’s even possible. He cups your face with his warm hand, and you can smell his heady, musky scent that you’re so addicted to. His eyes sparkle earnestly, like twin blue oceans that you could drown in except the experience would be pleasant. He leans close to you, so close; “I promise, omega.”

You cum so hard, you feel like you’re going to pass out, your walls constricting around his dick, squeezing it so hard while he continues to thrust up into you. You can feel your cream leaking down his dick, staining his uniform but it’s like you can’t stop squirting around him, your slick squeezing out of your worn-out pussy as it pulsates around his hard cock.

“Steve, oh my God, oh my God, fuck!” You cry out in complete abandon, clutching onto his biceps, your nails digging through the material of his jersey.

“That’s right baby, cum on daddy’s dick like the good little girl you are,” He coaxes you, rubbing your bare back almost soothingly, while his fat dick continues to pierce in and out of you at an inhumane pace – as if he’s savouring being inside you, as if he never wants to stop. “Squeeze my fucking dick, omega. Fuck, I’m gonna keep you pregnant forever, baby. Tell me you want that; tell me you want all my fucking babies.”

“W-Want your babies!” You cry out obediently, your body jelly on top of his, limbs twitching as the rushes of pleasure flush through your body. He’s using you like a fuckdoll now, an iron grip on your hips as he pounds into you as if he can’t get enough. His mouth latches onto your mark, licking and sucking possessively, and you think you might pass out from the pleasure – and he still wouldn’t stop.

You feel his dick twitch inside you, and he’s still fucking you through his own release, his seed so hot as it pours into you. Spurting hot cum, coating your insides like he’s trying to brand you, and he grips firmly onto your hair, pulling your face to his and kissing you roughly. “I love you, baby.” He whispers soft as a feather against your lips, and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing him say it, as you grind down, his thick ropes of cum mingling with your own slick, and he’s still pumping out more. As if his load is so heavy and he won’t stop until you’re completely filled up.

“Marry me.”

For the second time today, he renders you completely speechless. Third time, if you count your reaction to his book of sketches. Cupping both your cheeks and making you look at him and only him, and you don’t know what to think. First ‘I love you’ and now ‘marry me’? The alarm bells are chiming softly in the rational part of your mind – because isn’t all of this happening too fast, too suddenly, too soon?

“Marry me, omega.” Steve repeats, “Let me take you home. To Brooklyn. I’ll take care of you, give you a real home, I’ll make you so happy. And you can leave this place behind.”

Leave it behind? What did he mean by that? Your degree? There’re so many questions on your mind: Is he being serious? Does he mean it? Why is all of this coming out now? Should you believe him, believe his promises – when your own trust in him has come back to slap you in the face multiple times in the past? And what if this is all some cruel practical joke? What about your education, your scholarship? What about your mother? What about… what about… what about–

But it’s like your mind is working in overdrive to forcibly push all those thoughts out, and replace them with how he’d told you he loved you. How he’d apologised to you last night. All the sketches he made of you – those weren’t a joke, were they? They couldn’t be.

Time to surrender, the omega inside of you is beguiling as ever; time to be happy…

“Okay.” You whisper.

He breaks into a smile, like he knows you could never say no to him, and presses kisses all over your face.

There’s a quiet calm as he picks you up, taking you to the nearby bathroom and helping you clean up. You thought your head would be a screaming mess of emotions, but your thoughts are eerily quiet as you let him clean and redress you. Maybe this was all meant to be, and this is where you belonged. Maybe he meant it this time – maybe he’d take care of you and keep you happy forever. And you have the baby to think about too – maybe this was best for the baby.

He carries you back out of the bathroom, only setting you down on your feet when he’s opening the exit doors to get back out onto the field. And even then, he holds your hand tightly – so tightly, as if you’re a kite that might fly away.

Outside, everyone is still celebrating – almost as if the two of you never left. You can see Sam and the rest of the football team popping open cans of beer and pouring it all down their fronts, or shaking hands with different people, or kissing their own girlfriends. Instinctively, Steve’s grip on your hand tightens even more.

“Hey, Cap! We’re taking a team picture with the trophy. C’mon!” One of his teammates calls out before the whole team begins to assemble themselves into haphazard rows while the professional photographer tries to guide them.

You feel Steve hesitating before letting go of you, grabbing your shoulders instead.

“Don’t move, omega. I’ll be right back.”

You nod, smiling softly, “Okay, Steve. I’m right here.”

It’s like he’s searching your face for something, and you wish to God you knew what because you’d show it to him in a heartbeat. But then his face softens, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And then he jogs away, joining his friends and being greeted with hoots and cheers and high-fives and chants of his name. He looks like a king on top of his world, standing up front and centre. Someone thrusts the gigantic trophy in his hand, and he holds it up proudly, smiling cockily at the camera.

You take it all in, feeling a mix of emotions ranging from pride for him as well as a certain sense of imposter syndrome. He’s a king and you’re an ant – but he loves you. He told you so, he told you so, he told you so–

“HEY!”

The repeated calling of your name doesn’t register to you until it’s right up against your ear, and you feel someone grip your wrist roughly, tugging you back. You turn around in alarm, mouth dropping open when you see who it is.

“Peter! What are you doing here?”

Peter looks dishevelled, out of breath as if he’s been running around all day. His spiky hair is longer than how you remember it, with brown locks tumbling down his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and eyes bright, the remnants of his fading black eye very apparent on his face. And his hold on your wrist is tighter than ever – just like how Steve’s grip was earlier.

Heart pounding, you glance back at Steve – but he’s still busy hoisting the trophy high in the air, posing for pictures and shaking hands with different people.

“Went to your dorm – you weren’t there.” Peter huffs, trying to catch his breath as quickly as he can. “Someone said you might be here – that the entire college was here. And they weren’t wrong – I’ve been looking for you in the crowd for ages. I figured this would be the best way, since he’d be too busy playing to notice anything.”

Peter casts a quick glance at Steve too, before pulling you further away. When he doesn’t stop, you tug back.

“What’re you doing? We can’t… I can’t be speaking to you, he’ll–”

“Come on!” Peter cuts you off, an almost desperate sense of urgency in his tone as he keeps glancing back at Steve. There’s a certain panic to his demeanour, as if he’s in a hurry. “Look, this is the perfect opportunity – he’s distracted, we can just slip out and –”

“Wait, Peter–”

“No, I’m not going to wait and neither are you!” Peter hisses, yanking your arm and pulling you further and further away, off the side of the field and leading to the stairs where a sizeable crowd of people is still mingling.

“Look, I spent a whole month feeling sorry for myself for getting beaten up… For letting him get the best of me. And I barely spared a second to think of you and what you must’ve been going through.” Peter’s talking rapidly, and he never stops moving, never stops tugging you but he does keep looking over his shoulder in Steve’s direction, his palm clammy as he holds on to your wrist. “But then you called, and you sounded distressed. I knew he wasn’t treating you right, I knew I had to do something.”

You swallow harshly, taking another look back at Steve – now his teammates have hoisted him onto their shoulders again, and he’s still smiling for pictures. A million thoughts race through your head, “Peter, I have to get back, he’s gonna–”

But it’s like Peter doesn’t hear you at all, as he determinedly pulls you up the stairs behind him and towards the exit. And you do want to speak to him, of course you do! You haven’t spoken to him for more than a month, and there’s so many things you want to ask him. But, but, but…

“I’m so fucking stupid for not doing something sooner. You were my girlfriend… You are my girlfriend and I should’ve taken care of you.”

You shake your head rapidly, “Peter, please listen! I don’t want to… I don’t think this is a good id–”

“You’re never gonna have to see that sick sonofabitch again, I promise you that much. I’m doing what I should have done that day I showed up at your dorm – take you away from him.”

“Peter, no, I–”

But either it’s the roar of the people around you or his own determination, but he doesn’t seem to hear your pleas. Everything’s happening too fast, the thoughts racing around in your head and the panic bubbling in your chest. Peter is good, you know this – and you know he means well. And yet…

You feel your mark prickle hotly, and you whip around in time to see Steve’s head snap in your direction. Your eyes lock with his for one single split second, and your mark throbs in pain and you feel a certain unrest in your bond, and it feels like you can’t breathe.

The hurt that flashes through Steve’s eyes is the last thing you see before you’re yanked out the exit and swallowed up by the crowd.

Well. If you managed to make it to the end of this chapter, thank you! I really hope you enjoyed. Guys, I poured my life and soul into this... and I hope I did this chapter justice. Please, PLEASE PLEASE reblog! And give me feedback. That’s what keeps me going honestly. I would love to hear what you think. In fact, i’m nervous to know what you think! And what should we expect for the next part? All I’m gonna say is... Steve’s omega has been taken from him, if he was mean before, it’s nothing compared to what he’ll be now. ALRIGHT BYE. and thank you for all your support! Love you guys!

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter seven: blurring lines

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Series trope: Fake dating 

Chapter seven summary: Blink and the lines are blurred. How much longer can you keep lying to yourself? Enzo shares his advice. 867 words.

Warning: Fluff, no use of y/n, making out, angst.

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Blink and the lines are blurred.

“I think I see Mattheo,” I whisper, pulling Enzo to the nearest wall. I reach my hands up his hair and kiss him, my senses electrified.

He wraps his arms around my waist, pushing me into the wall, leaving no space between us. He’s a contradiction of soft lips and hard muscles, tender touch and and fierce kisses.

He snakes his tongue in my mouth and I suck on it, gripping his hair to pull him close. I am pure want, I ache and —

I am Enzo’s fake girlfriend. I blink and let go of his hair. It takes him a second to catch up and untangle himself, consciously fixing his hair.

“I think he’s gone now,” I say, looking around. If I stopped lying to myself, I could admit I didn’t even see Mattheo at all.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

“Come here,” Enzo says, settling into the couch. My heart thumps along with the party music’s erratic rhythm, matching the anticipation in Enzo’s eyes. “Mattheo hangs out in dark corners like these. He’ll see us soon enough.” I nod as he pulls me onto his lap and I straddle him.

He runs a hand through my hair then cradles the back of my neck to bring my lips to his and I wrap my arms around him. I revel in the familiarity of his kiss as he moves his hand along my legs, drawing out moans and goosebumps from me.

When he brings his mouth to my neck, I hum in approval as he glides his tongue against the vibration it creates. I scan the crowd for Mattheo but my thoughts are scattered when Enzo brings his hand to my ass, pressing me right where he needs me. “Is this okay?” He asks.

I breathe out a soft “yes,” which earns me a grunt from him and I gasp when he starts moving against me. I roll my hips against him, creating friction, needing more.

My head snaps when I hear laughter from a nearby group lost in their own conversation. Gathering the last few threads of my restraint, I lean my forehead against Enzo, catching my breath.

“We should probably leave it here,” I say. “Yeah,” he replies breathlessly.

I stand up and offer a hand to him. “Maybe we could use a walk to clear our head?”

“I’d like that.” Enzo smiles, the heat of the moment replaced with the ease we have around each other.

Hand in hand, we leave the party. From the corner of my eye, I spot Mattheo just entering.

“So this plan didn’t work,” I comment.

“Yeah, something like that,” he says, not quite referring to The Book, but I don’t dare linger on it for too long.

“I’m sorry,” I say, heat creeping up my cheeks. “I got carried away back there.”

“No, if anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“Take advantage? Of me?” I ask incredulously. “Enzo Enzo Enzo,” I recite playfully. “You can’t be both the damsel in distress and the villain scheming against her ex-boyfriend. Which one do you think I am?”

“Okay,” he huffs, rolling his eyes at my dramatics. I may have had a firewhiskey or two. “Definitely not the damsel in distress.”

“Good boy,” I smirk. He stares at my lips for a second too long and then looks away, clearing his throat.

“I just mean,” he starts, expression turning serious. “I know you’re still hurting over Mattheo, what he did sucks and you didn’t deserve it. How are you feeling?”

Salazar, his earnest eyes pierce through my defenses. 

“So, it’s my therapy time, huh?” I ask with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“You know, I honestly thought revenge would feel better,” I sigh. “The more I think about why I’m so angry, I realize it’s because of how good things were and when I lost that, I lost part of myself too. I miss him and I’m so mad at myself for it. Why do I still care? Why does it matter? And I miss who I used to be,” I shake my head, fighting the tears that well up.

“I also think about losing the future I hoped to have with Mattheo, things I dreamed of. And now, I don’t know. I just feel lost,” I trail off, my eyes unfocused.

“I get that,” he says. “You know, I broke up with my girlfriend last year and I was messed up for a while. She’s a halfblood so it was never going to work. We tried though,” he says, recalling bittersweet memories.

“How did you get over it?” I ask. “Any advice?”

“Well, you know what the silver lining is to having your heart crushed and your future hopes dashed?”

I laugh at his summary, “there’s a silver lining?”

He gives me a kind smile, “you get to start over again. Dream new dreams, maybe even fall in love again.”

Enzo’s words hang in the air and for a moment, I dare to hope. Just a drop of courage in the sea of grief. It’s not much, but perhaps it’s enough.

“Yeah?” I muse.

“Yeah.”

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A/N: The series ends next week with chapter nine! Then one alternative chapter will be posted the following week. Thanks for being here. ♡

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove

[gyuvision]

goodnight ricky

wc ; 1k - pairing ; ricky shen x fem reader

summary ; before your roommate left she promised she’d find you a replacement. 3 years later she never did, until now, leaving you as confused as ever while you looked at the 6ft male sitting in your room.

contains -> fluff/slight angst

you came back late, having class at a top (and painfully competitive) med school plus the late shift at the local coffee shop. you were tired especially during exams. all you wanted was to stay in your bed and read a book, or sleep for the rest of the night. however you pleased.

so naturally being that exhausted you were absolutely not expecting the man sitting in your desk, drawing towards the conclusion that you were hallucinating and that maybe sleep sounded like a better idea than a book.

“someone told me to wait for you here”

“what?”

“you know, your roommate?”

oh. right.

your roommate was your best friend. you were inseparable, shared the same dreams, got into the same college together.

but everything changed. she got a boyfriend, and suddenly your future wasn’t as intertwined as you originally planned it to be.

they broke up and she realized she wasn’t sure what she wanted. everything about her had changed and your schedule almost never lined up because of how many times she changed it for her ex.

so, she cut ties, peacefully. she explained she no longer wanted the same thing as you and left but promised to visit soon and that she’d find someone to take her place because she knew how much you hated being on your own.

guess that explained why the man (who you later knew as shen quanrui) was waiting for you, in the same spot she always waited for you to come home.

“its been.. 2 years since she left. how could you have found me when she couldn’t even shoot a text?”

“unbeknownst you, you mean a great deal to her more than you seem to think you do. i was her partner in art school before we had graduated, and she sent me here. she knows how you are, with your life plan laid out in front of you, for you. she knows you’d still live here even after almost 3 years. she knows you’d end up getting into med school after college. you’re not that unpredictable jung y/n.”

“so i’ve been prepared all my life, and what about it? i don’t march towards things without a plan. and how could you address me by my full name when i don’t even know yours?”

“shen quanrui.”

“shim what?” “shen. quan. rui. shen quanrui. its not that hard.”

“so you’re not korean?” “obviously not. i’m chinese.”

“can you say your name one more time?”

“my god. you can just call me ricky.”

“lovelicky.” “what?” “nothing.”

“i brought back food. it was supposed to be a snack for me but i guess you can have it now that i know i’ll be accommodating for two from this point on.”

“thanks. but uh- can we just go to sleep?” ricky asked, moving from your desk to sit on your twin bed.

“what? this is a two person flat. go sleep in her old room.”

“uh- i would, assuming she left behind her bed. but you kind of boarded up her room and i’m not looking to take it down at midnight on a thursday.”

“oh. i guess you’re right. i forgot about that. i just never assumed she’d actually send someone to me so i didn’t want to look at everything she left behind.”

ricky shrugged and laid down on one side of your bed, while he let you climb into the side touching the wall. since when was he wearing pajamas?..

“isnt this weird?” you muttered.

“not really.”

“i just met you.”

“your couch looks stiff as fuck and i’m not sleeping on the floor.”

right. you had a couch.. maybe med school is taking a toll on your memory. you feel like your frontal lobe is deteriorating.

ricky watched as you reached for a book, before he quickly grabbed your hand and set it back down on the shelf above the bed.

“no. sleep. you have school then the night shift at the cafe.”

“how did you-” “you leave your schedule framed on your fridge.” “right..”

“goodnight y/n.”

“okay. goodnight ricky.”

[tsunami-of-tears]

Draw me like one of your fae girls

Feyre x Reader (sapphic)

A/N: okay I may have plotted too hard before the porn

Thank you so much to ✨ anon who sent this request in. I’ve diverged a little bit, but most of your points are covered 💛

Wordcount: 2.4K

Warnings: Female reader; we have a little bit of angst/pining; smut (oral - f!receiving, fingering, soft d/s, mommy kink)

The rushing of the Sidra, a crisp breeze rustling through the trees, the soft tap of footsteps on the cobblestone streets, people laughing and chattering as they mill about. Velaris, the city for the dreamers. 

I meander through the artist’s quarter, arms full of my new supplies. A big gust of wind blows down the street and I spin to shield my face, clutching the bundle close to my chest. As I turn, a sign comes into view: 

“Help wanted. Any artistic experience is desirable. Enquire within.”

What are the chances? I’ve been looking for a new job, and being surrounded by art all day sounds like a dream come true. I shift my supplies into one arm and open the door. 

Inside the studio is bright and welcoming. Easels line the room, some holding paintings in various stages of completion. The walls are scattered with artwork, all portraying different subjects– flowers in vases, scenes of restaurants by the Sidra, a boy throwing a ball in the park– all breathing life into the space. Vibrant, joyous life. 

A high-fae female stands behind one of the easels, she has smears of yellow paint on her cheek and smock. Her grey-blue eyes are narrowed in concentration and waves of gold are tied messily in a bun on her head. She bites on her lower lip as she continues painting, her nose scrunching ever so slightly. 

She is captivating. 

She looks up from her work, finally noticing my presence in the room. 

“Oh hello there. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. My name is Feyre,” she smiles warmly at me before setting down her brush and palette. She wipes her hands on her smock, though it doesn’t help much. 

“It’s okay, I just got here. I’m Y/N, I saw your sign outside.” I return Feyre’s smile, and gesture to the door behind me. 

“That didn’t take long,” she laughs. “I put that sign up an hour ago. You’re an artist?”

“Yes, I paint and draw, but my preferred medium is ceramics. I like using my hands.” 

“We have that in common,” she says, her smile turning slightly playful. “I’m looking for someone to assist during classes. It’s gotten so busy, which is wonderful, but my attention is stretched too thin. Do you think that’s something you’re interested in?” 

I nod eagerly, “Absolutely. It’s my dream to be surrounded by art all day. Would you like to see some of my work? The sculptures are difficult to transport but I can deliver some of my sketchbooks.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not required for the position. How soon can you start?” 

I blink a few times, repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard Feyre correctly. “Does next week work?”

———— 

I’m unpacking the fired pottery from the kiln a few months later. Feyre had bought it soon after I started working for her. With her blessing, I’d begun teaching ceramics classes. This last batch was from my regular students who attend once a week.

I’m holding the last piece when Feyre enters. “Wow, these are amazing. You’re doing so well with the students,” she beams. 

“It’s all them,” I respond, setting down the pot carefully.

“Don’t do that,” Feyre tuts. “You’re a great teacher and I’m thrilled to have you working with me.” 

“Thanks, Feyre. I really love it. It’s so rewarding.”

“I’m still waiting on my personal lesson though,” she laughs. “Are you still up for drinks tonight?”

“Definitely. I just need to reload the kiln, the next batch should be dry enough.” 

———— 

Feyre and I walked to the bar arm-in-arm, already giggling at each other and we hadn’t started drinking yet. Since I joined Feyre’s studio, we’ve developed a close friendship, though a small piece of my heart yearns for more. 

She’s mated, I remind myself for the hundredth time. 

As we enter the dimly lit bar, Ressina spots us, calling us over to her booth. I take a seat next to another instructor, Coral, and Feyre slides in beside me. Across from us sits Ressina and her partner, Pollux. 

Ressina had bought a round of drinks for our group just before we arrived. We raise our glasses, clinking them together in cheers before taking a sip. 

“Coral was just telling us about her hot date last night,” Ressina explains. 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pollux says sarcastically. 

“Oh it’s just fun, we have to live vicariously through our single friends. Feyre gets it, right?” Ressina gestures vigorously towards Feyre.

“Oh actually,” Feyre says, “I might be back on the market.” She takes a casual sip from her drink, as if she had just said the most mundane sentence in the world. 

My jaw drops and my eyes widen in alarm. Across the table, our friends are sporting similar expressions. No one saw that coming. 

“Oh no, not like that!” She quickly reassures us. “Rhys and I are quite happy, we’re just finding it a bit… stagnant. We’ve discussed it at length, and have decided to open our marriage one weekend every month.” 

“Wow Feyre,” Coral says. “Are you and Rhys equally excited about that?” 

Feyre smiles, looking down at her glass, the flush on her cheeks deepening in colour. “We’ve both got different reasons for wanting it but yes, we are. I’ve had my eye on someone,” Feyre’s gaze meets mine for a split second, “and Rhys knew that. It took a lot of conversations to figure out our boundaries, and they’ll likely evolve over time, but we’re taking the first step.” 

“Well congratulations,” Pollux says, raising his glass before taking a swig.

“Thank you,” Feyre says, her eyes finding mine again. I can detect a hint of… longing? Surely not. This wine must be going straight to my head. 

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. We drink and talk and dance until late into the night when we stumble out of the bar, waving goodbye to our friends who are heading in the opposite direction. Feyre’s arm is wrapped over my shoulders as I do my best to keep her upright. 

“Mmms love you, Y/N,” Feyre slurs, drawing out the syllables of my name. 

“I love you too, Fey,” I answer, quickly grabbing her forearm to stop her falling to the ground. 

“You’re the bestest,” she sighs, slumping in my arms. 

Just as I’m wondering how we’re going to walk home, the darkness in front of us ripples, revealing Feyre’s mate. 

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys coos, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing; a stark contrast to my earlier struggles. Feyre wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. My heart constricts at the sight.

“Perfect timing,” I smile tightly in an attempt to hide my true feelings. 

“The bond was muffled and I got worried, though I now understand why,” Rhys explains. 

Right, the bond. 

“You must be Y/N,” Rhys continues. “She talks about you often.” He smiles, looking down at the female cradled in his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her, do you need to be dropped home?” 

“No, thank you. The walk will sober me up.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point. Goodnight, Y/N.” Rhys inclines his head before disappearing into the night with Feyre safely in his arms. 

The walk home certainly was sobering. How could I be silly enough to believe she thought of me in any light other than as a friend? Surely she meant she was opening her marriage to other males. Not me.

———— 

A few weeks after our night out, I’ve finally given in to teaching Feyre how to use a pottery wheel. She’d been gushing over my latest collection all week - a series of vases celebrating the divine feminine, the Mother. She was dying to get her hands dirty, quite literally. 

The reason I was hesitant to teach Feyre wasn’t because of her artistic talents. No, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her confession. I hadn’t stopped hoping she meant me.

Feyre is perched on a stool across from me, the pottery wheel in between us with a lump of earthenware clay. Feyre had quickly picked up how to work the peddle, now she just needed to use her hands to shape the clay.

She put her fingers into the centre of the ball like I demonstrated, easing the sides outwards as it spins. As she concentrates, her nose scrunches up and she bites her lip. It’s the same face she always makes when she’s engrossed in creating something. 

“It keeps getting wider, how do I make it go back in again?” Feyre asks. 

“Here,” I put my wet hands on top of Feyre’s, helping her ease the clay in the direction she wanted. “Perfect,” I smile. Feyre looks up from her work to smile back at me. With her focus shifted, her foot slips and the wheel spins out, spraying both of us with muddy water. We both erupt in giggles as we look at the mess covering each other. 

“And I thought painting was a messy hobby,” Feyre laughs. 

———— 

Feyre finished her creation - a simple round vase that she has plans to paint once it’s fired. 

The two of us are cleaning up our tools and hands in the large basin. The laughter from earlier is gone,  leaving us with a comfortable silence. 

Feyre sighs, “It’s the last weekend of the month.”

“I do have a calendar,” I tease. 

“No I mean, it’s the weekend Rhys and I decided on.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “Do you have anything planned?” 

“I have someone I’d like to ask, but I’ve been a bit worried about how they’ll react,” Feyre admits. 

My heart breaks a little bit at her admission. “You do not need to be worried, you’re gorgeous. I doubt anyone could reject you.”

“I guess,” Feyre sighs.

The silence has now grown deafening between you. 

Finally, Feyre breaks it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks. 

“Hey, I thought we were talking about you here!” I exclaim. 

“We still are. I was hoping you’d like to join me.”

Oh. 

OH.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I know my mouth has fallen open. 

I look down, unable to meet her gaze as my heart races, the sound pounding in my ears.  “Yeah, I would like that,” I respond. 

———— 

Kissing Feyre was everything. 

Soft lips against mine. Soft hair between my fingers. 

Her scent is dizzying. 

This kiss is all-consuming. 

Every thought, every touch, it’s all her. 

Slowly, her hands slip down my body. Brushing down my neck, grazing over my breasts. 

We’re in her townhouse. I’m lying on the couch with Feyre on top of me, her thighs on either side of my hips. 

We barely made it through the front door before our hands and lips were all over each other. 

Feyre sits up, panting as she regains her breath. She peels off her top, throwing it to the side before doing the same with mine. 

“I can’t believe you asked,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” she retorts, leaning down to kiss me again. 

Feyre kisses down my exposed neck, teasing along my collarbone, surely littering my skin with marks. 

She keeps kissing lower, taking one of my hardened nipples into her mouth and sucking. She takes the other between her thumb and finger, pinching softly. I gasp at the sensation, my hips roll, desperately begging for more.

Feyre hums against my chest, nipple still in her mouth as she grazes it with her teeth, eliciting another gasp from me. 

“You make such pretty sounds,” she says, swinging her leg over my body to stand on the floor. Feyre extends her hand for me to take. “Let’s go somewhere with more room, I want to explore every inch of you.” 

I take her hand, following her upstairs to the bedroom. 

We remove the rest of our clothes before Feyre motions for me to lie in the centre of the wide bed. She crawls between my legs, her face hovering centimetres above mine, her hand gentle against my cheek. 

Feyre leans down to kiss me again. Each stroke of her tongue is intentional. 

I wonder what that tongue would feel like in other places. 

I’m not left wondering for long as Feyre moves down my body. She pauses above my exposed sex, stroking down the outside of my thighs. 

“So pretty,” she says. “May I?” 

“Please,” I moan. 

“Such good manners too baby,” Feyre purrs, dipping her head between my legs.

She starts slow, lapping at me like a cat laps at milk. 

My hips start rolling and she presses them down firmly. 

“So responsive,” she laughs and I whine at the loss of contact. 

Feyre goes in with her fingers next, softly tracing along my clit at an agonising pace. 

I moan as the strokes turn to circles, giving me even more friction. My eyes close, allowing my body to focus on the feeling. 

“I like that noise,” she says, “but what sound do you make when I do this–” Her fingers slide down inside me and she starts to fuck me slowly. My moans get even louder as she starts to curl her fingers, hitting my sweet spot. I writhe beneath her fingers and she starts to pick up her pace. 

“You’re doing so good baby, tell Mommy how good it feels,” Feyre says, lowering her mouth to my clit once again. 

“Mmmm Mommy, feels so good. Mm so close.” I babble, eyes rolling as Feyre’s tongue circles my clit in tandem with her fingers. 

“Cum for me baby,” Feyre says, her fingers keeping their steady pace. 

A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to send me barrelling over the edge, crying out as the waves of pleasure roll over me. 

“Such a good girl,” Feyre says, slowing her thrusts as I ride out the high. 

My body stills as Feyre crawls beside me, wrapping her arms around me. She softly kisses the top of my head as I sigh contentedly. 

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks. 

“Phenomenal.” 

Feyre laughs at my answer. “Are you tired, or do you want to keep going?” she questions.  

“I’m not even close to being done, it’s your turn.”

“Well then, come here and show Mommy some appreciation.” 

“Gladly.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 26

Summary: After being married, Negan decides to take Y/N to a place they visited once when they were younger to give her a honeymoon which brings back old memories.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Some Smut, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/135889690

Notes: I have several chapters of this still planned. I know I took a very long break from this one and I'm sorry, but I'm doing my best to finish the stories that I still have opened. I want to make sure to finish them all. Thanks to anyone that might still read this one!

“Do you really think it’s safe leaving the kids with strangers?” Y/N inquired while her and Negan walked through the woods to an area that Negan insisted they get out of the car to walk to. The sound of Negan not walking far behind her was heard and it made her swallow down hard. “I know that you trust these people, but after hearing the way some of them talk to you I’m not sure that they are the safest people for the children to be around.”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing, okay?” Negan snickered from behind her, pushing aside some of the brush that was in front of him while he followed her. “I know some of my men are questionable, but I know who to put my faith in when it comes to the children. I wouldn’t put their lives on the line, I promise you.”

“I want to believe you, but with your past…” she looked over her shoulder at Negan hearing him let out a grumble that showed his displeasure over the fact she was still holding the past over his head. “It takes a lot to regain my trust Negan. I’m not who I used to be.”

“You trusted me enough to marry me,” Negan reminded her, moving in beside her to pinch her bottom causing a yelp to fall from her throat. An amused snicker fell deep from within him and it made her roll her eyes. “I think if you were worried, we wouldn’t be here going away for our so-called honeymoon. You probably would have killed me.”

“I came close a few times,” she pointed out and he let out an amused rumble. “It’s just been hard for me to be away from the children. Since this whole thing started, I’ve never really been apart from them.”

“Exactly, which is why you need this break,” Negan hushed her, his arm hooking loosely around her waist while he led her in closer to him. “For years, all you ever wanted was to be married to me. Now you are and we’re going to do it right. Well, as right as you possibly can in a world like this.”

“Oh, so you’re going to divorce the women that are your other wives?” she blurt out and it was followed by another rumble of a growl. “That’s what I thought.”

“The only real wife that I have is you and you know that,” Negan pushed further, his arm tightening around her in a possessive grasp. “I think we just need to focus on how we’re actually together now. Married. Like a real couple. The way it should have been a long time ago.”

“Mhmm,” she stopped moving, reaching for his hand to pull him to face her. A long exhale fell from her lips while she stared up at him. Palming down over the side of his face, she drew him to her and shook her head slowly. “You know how much I love you Negan. How much I’ve always loved you.”

“Of course I do,” Negan whispered, his thumb drawing lines over the side of her face. “You know I love you too. Very much. And once you came back into my life I decided that I was going to stop wasting fucking time. I’m gonna focus on being a good dad to my children. Nathan and Evie are gonna know what it’s like to have a good father in their life. You’re going to know what it’s like to be pampered the way you are meant to be.”

Tipping up on her toes, Y/N met Negan in a faint kiss that made him hum against her flesh. Stroking his fingers over the side of her face, Negan pulled back ever so slightly and his hazel eyes were locked on hers. There was always something in the way that Negan looked at her that took her breath away. She hated it, but also loved it at the same time.

“I love you,” Negan slurred, leaning in to skim his lips in over hers drawing her to close her eyes tightly. Warmth flooded her veins when he finally claimed her lips in a heated kiss. His right hand palmed in over her bottom and she huffed out. “What?”

“Are you ever going to tell me where you are taking me? Are we almost there or…?” she braced her hand over the center of his chest, purring out when he nibbled at her bottom lip. “Negan.”

“We’re almost there, here…” Negan reached for her hand leading her through the woods, looking back at her with an amused expression. “I wanna see if you remember this place…”

“What do you mean?” she smirked knowing that they had been walking for a while toward an area that felt uphill. When he pushed aside one of the bushes, she let out an amused sound when she saw the group of tiny cabins that sat at the top of a hill that overlooked a large body of water. “God, not this place.”

“So you remember this place?” Negan felt her pulling her hand from his when she moved toward the center of the camp to gaze around. “I thought maybe you would forget it.”

“How could I forget this place? Sure things are overgrown, but I would never forget this place,” she let out something that resembled a giggle and Negan smiled brightly, shoving his hands into his pockets while she looked around. Pointing to one of the cabins, she looked back at Negan and saw him nod. “It was the first year that we were dating. You wanted to go on a road trip with no plans. Just hit the road and see where we ended up. So we got on your motorcycle and just started off in whatever direction I picked.”

“And not far into the trip you started getting handsy so we pulled off here and decided to break into one of these cabins,” Negan added to the conversation hearing her let out an amused sound. “We both agreed these things were ridiculously small, but they were good enough for what we needed which was to just have sex. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other…”

“And we didn’t close the door the first time and there was that deer,” she recalled making Negan huff out when she turned to face him.

“The deer was a pervert that just wanted to spy on us,” Negan walked across the gravel toward her when she moved up the steps to the cabin that they had snuck in together almost fourteen years ago. “I still think that deer wanted a piece of me.”

“You would,” she noted looking into the windows of the cabin to let out a sigh. “We ended up just staying the night after you chased the deer off. I remember late into the night you thought it was the deer coming back and you ran out buck ass naked…” her laughter grew louder making Negan’s face flush over with warmth. “And it was a group of campers that were actually staying here coming back from their hike…”

“Thank God they were all college kids,” Negan snorted finding amusement in the fact that she still found what happened back then so funny. “College kids that understood our situation and let us continue to stay the night in our cabin.”

“I told you to put some pants on when you went to chase the thing off, but you were so…I don’t even think I know the word,” she recalled their past, pushing open the door to see that there was a small mattress set up in the tiny cabin along with a few things and she gazed back at him over her shoulder. “This was your idea for our honeymoon?”

“Listen, we always wanted to go and be by the water, but we were so focused on screwing around that we never got the chance. I thought you might enjoy the memory,” Negan reasoned with her, leaning against the doorframe when she moved into the small cabin. “I had the boys clean up the place and make sure that it was livable for us for the night. I thought maybe we could go for a walk by the water and then…”

“Have sex?” she suggested and it was followed by Negan letting out a thick rumble of laughter. “I assume that’s what you were looking for here?”

“Well,” Negan stepped forward, cornering her inside of the cabin. His breath was hot over her lips while his hazel eyes ate her alive with his stare. “I originally thought I would be romantic with everything. Go for a walk by the water hand in hand. Talk about things. Then maybe we would come back here, have a small dinner, make some smores and then afterwards I thought the two of us could get comfortable with one another and I would make love to you inside of the cabin,” Negan informed her drawing her breathing to get caught in her throat when he pressed his body in against hers. “But, if you want…I’d have no problem getting you on your knees to have you suck on my big cock before I feast on your beautiful, wet pussy. Then we can have sex on the beach. Grab one of the towels, take our clothes off and lay out on the sand. We can go as fast or as slow as you please. We can have sex all day if that’s what you desire. As long as you give me a few breaks to hydrate myself and allow the big guy some time to recuperate. I can have your pussy full and dripping with my cum by the end of the night if that’s what you want.”

“Jesus Negan,” she gasped when he curled his fingers underneath her thigh to pull it up and over his hip. Heat flooded her face and she felt her heart hammering inside of her chest. “Why do I suddenly feel like that girl at the bar all over again wanting you to deliver on everything you just said?”

“Because I still turn you on,” Negan’s nose nuzzled hers, his palm snaking between the two of them to caress over her most intimate parts. Tipping up, she brought their lips together and Negan’s tongue flicked out against hers. Their breathing grew louder when they started pawing at one another touching the other. “My cock is so fucking hard already.”

Dropping her hands, she fumbled with his belt and pulled apart his pants working to tug them open. Finding trouble at first in getting the zipper down, she didn’t hesitate to push down his pants and his boxer briefs when she undid the material. Almost immediately his cock sprung free from the cotton prison it was behind and her palm wrapped around his girthy length.

“Good girl,” Negan complimented her, his forehead pressing to hers while she jerked him off. Grunting, Negan watched her lowering down to her knees like he had suggested earlier. Pressing his left hand against the wall, he used the right to hook his fingers into her hair while she pressed wet kisses against the shaft. Closing his eyes, he bit down on his bottom lip as her lips wrapped around the tip. Moaning out, he enjoyed the way that her tongue lapped at the sensitive tip while she took her time bobbing her head over the length of him. The damp warmth of her mouth around him felt incredible. Even after this many years, he could never get sick of sexual acts with her. She knew exactly what to do in order to please him and it was exciting every time. “So good.”

The wet sounds her mouth made over him was turning him on even more with his hips bucking up toward the back of her throat. Her caress worked over his length as well and he was very verbal with her about everything. Praising her consistently. He knew that she loved that.

“Fuck,” Negan moaned out, falling forward when she deep throated him. Wincing out, it didn’t take much for him to be coming down her throat and having her swallowing down every drop of his release. When she pulled back, she wiped at her bottom lip and collected the taste of him before sucking at her fingertips. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Forcing her to him, he kissed her with everything that he had, tasting himself against her and groaning out against her flesh. Working open her pants, Negan was eager to get them from her body hearing her gasping when she almost fell over with his strength. Dropping down to his knees, Negan reached for her left leg and threw it in over his shoulder to give himself some space. Gasping out, she dug her fingers into his shoulders to brace herself when he peppered wet, hot kisses over the inside of her thigh. Once his mouth centered in over her core, he could feel her fingers sinking into his hair and clinging tightly to it.

Eagerly pleasuring her, Negan did what he knew she loved using his tongue and fingers in unison. It had her grasping at the wall with her free hand to try to brace herself. From the caresses of his tongue, the slurping and kissing over her most sensitive parts, it had her panting out his name and he loved every second of it. When she hit her first orgasm, he didn’t stop what he was doing. No, he wanted her not regretting a moment of agreeing to marry him after everything. Plunging his fingers into her, he caressed over her g-spot while his tongue and lips worked perfectly in unison over her clitoris.

“Negan,” she cried out his name when she came again and he let out an amused rumble when he lazily pulled his mouth away from her, bringing his fingers up to his lips to suck over them with a proud expression. “You’re something else.”

“I know,” Negan placed another small kiss over the inside of her thigh and carefully placed her leg back down. Standing up, he pressed his body to hers and smirked down at her. “Let’s go fuck by the water.”

“And what if a walker shows up?” she muttered against his lips hearing him snicker and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ll bring our lunch, our weapons and if a walker shows up while I’m balls deep inside of you, then we will deal with it,” Negan’s nose wrinkled when she rolled her eyes and pushed into the center of his chest. “How are your legs? Do you need me to carry you down there? They were kind of shaking up a storm.”

“My legs will work,” she answered working her pants back over her body. At first, she didn’t think they would genuinely do exactly what he said, but they did. Negan led her to the beach, laid out a towel and lowered her down on top of it after undressing her. They had sex on top of the towel that was much more passionate than she would have imagined it would have been, but afterwards when he was laying in over her, she found herself caressing at the back of his neck. With their bodies tangled together and the warmth of him over her, she closed her eyes and let out a long exhale. “It’s moments like this where the world actually feels normal again.”

“With my dick going soft inside of you,” Negan teased against the side of her neck. Letting out a disgusted breath had him snickering against her flesh. “I’m fucking with you baby.”

“You’re always going to be Negan,” she sank her fingers further into his damp, dark hair. Pressing a kiss to his temple had his head lifting and the weak smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat. “I mean when we are alone like this. Out on a beach with no one here. It reminds me of when we were younger without a care in the world.”

“Well we can make this world as normal as we can,” Negan grabbed her hand that had her ring on it. Peppering faint kisses over the back of it had her smiling. It made him happy to know that she could find happiness with him again after everything. “We’re starting slowly, but over time we can start building this world together.”

“This was all I ever wanted,” she reminded him with Negan’s thumb sweeping in over the ring that she was wearing. “To be married to you. To have you look at me the way you are.”

“I know,” Negan acknowledged with a hesitant smile, lowering his head to press his forehead to hers. “And now we get to spend the rest of our lives together working on the relationship that we should have been having this whole time.”

There was a silence that filled the air between them when Negan sighed. Pulling his hips back had both of them letting out muted moans before Negan laid in beside her. Having her cuddling in closer to his chest had his arm immediately wrapping around her to hold her tightly to him.

“I was thinking,” Negan began, licking at his lips when he lowered his head down to cuddle his chin in over the top of her head. “Mostly about our family. I want to work on building our family back up. I want to be a good father and a good husband. I think we can make this whole thing work together. Maybe when things get settled down the line, we can actually try adding to our family again. So I can do things right from the start. I fucked up so bad when you were pregnant with Evie and then with Nathan…”

“I don’t think we should have more,” she interrupted Negan, a sincerity in her eyes when she expressed how she felt about things. “Evie was hard, but nothing can describe just how hard it was having Nathan. I love that boy and I’m so thankful to have both of them in my life, but doing everything on my own was just too hard. With the way the world is right now Negan, we’re just lucky to have the two that we do have.”

“I know that,” Negan stressed, his brow line furrowing in frustration. Y/N’s fingers were stroking through the dark curls of hair that was over his chest showing that she wasn’t mad at him, just stressing her feelings to him on the subject. “I just want another chance to do things right.”

“You have a chance to make things right,” she reminded him, her fingers tracing up over the side of Negan’s face drawing his hazel eyes to her. A lump developed in Negan’s throat when those words hit him hard. “Having a new baby isn’t going to make things right. Focusing on your relationship with your son and daughter will. You have everything you could ever want and more in both Evie and Nathan. A boy and a girl. A little girl that loves you more than anything and would do absolutely anything for you. I think the real testament to your love and your hope for change is how hard you work on building your relationship with the two of them. What you do to make things right for them.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving my children, I just don’t think adding one more to the family would be a bad thing,” Negan suggested, his thumb sweeping in over her jawline to admire her with the way she was looking at him. “We make good looking babies and that’s something the world needs. More babies to fill it that aren’t totally ugly.”

“Nice sell honey,” she rolled her eyes, tapping playfully at his chest. Laying her head back down over his chest, she listened to the sturdy sounds of his heart beating and sighed. “We have so much to work on, I think that just needs to be a thought very far out in the future.”

“Well, you never know how much time you have with someone,” Negan countered, his tone shaken when he thought about his time with Lucille and how long they had been apart. “The world has always chose when the two of us should have a child, so I guess I’m going to leave it in mother nature’s hands.”

“You do that,” she replied with a hesitant smile, her lips pressing faint kisses over his chest again. “I don’t want to raise a baby in that place Negan. It’s hard enough thinking about how we are going to raise Evie and Nathan there.”

“The Sanctuary?” Negan responded, his face scrunching up in confusion when she nodded. “It’s safe there Y/N. We have food, crops, protection…”

“Enemies, nowhere to raise a family except for your bedroom, no real places for them to play and people who despise you,” she stopped him before he could continue to sell what a good place it was for their children to grow up in. Bracing herself over his chest, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Part of me wishes that you come to your senses and you decide that you’re ready to give up this life. That you just want to be a dad and a husband.”

“I do want to be a dad and a husband,” Negan countered, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he defended himself. “That’s all I want right now. To be with you and the kids. To continue working on my family so we can be happy.”

“It’s not going to happen at The Sanctuary Negan,” she declared, a sense of sadness flooding her features when she continued. “The best thing for your children would be for you to step down and move to the farm. We have everything there. Protection that you could enhance. Food that you are capable of growing. A home. A real home for the children to grow up.”

“You know that I can’t do that,” Negan frowned feeling the guilt that was eating away at him with her lecturing him about the farm again. “I know that you think that life is capable…”

“It is,” she interrupted him, her hand lifting up to stop him from going off any further. “You quit. You move to the farm and you be the family man that you insist you want to be. It’s that simple.”

“And I explained to you, it’s not that simple. I have people that count on me. I’m the leader of this group and if I walk away from it, I’m letting everyone down. People will die because of me leaving,” Negan pushed once more and he could tell that she wasn’t buying the story that he was selling. “I keep a balance there. I keep harmony between all of them because if I was gone, it would be a fucking disaster there.”

“You are in the middle of a war with another community that is hell bent on killing you,” she reminded Negan making his lips part. He went to say something, but he just huffed and made it clear by his lack of eye contact that she was right. “The people there, they hate you. Some might hero worship you, but mostly they are scared of you. I love you for the man that I know you to be, but the Negan that is in charge of that community? It’s the darkest parts of you I didn’t want to remember you for. Staying at The Sanctuary is just going to give your children a hostile environment to grow up in. It’s never going to be fully safe there Negan. You know that just as much as I do. I think you know that leaving and going to the farm is the best place for you. For all of us.”

“I can’t Y/N,” Negan whispered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “This is the one thing I built on my own. Maybe I don’t run it the way that I should, but through the years we were separated I learned really fast that being the good guy leads you to nothing but pain. All the good guy does is die. I don’t think I’m bad, but I don’t think I’m good either. I just do what I have to in order to keep people alive.”

“You know there was a day when that farmhouse was your dream,” she brought back their past and it had the color draining from Negan’s features. “That’s why I bought that house. It was everything you ever wanted. You wanted animals, a place where we could just have a family and be together. It was never my dream, it was yours.”

“I know,” he asserted, his hazel eyes tearing over when she looked upon him with such high expectations. “You’re right.”

“Then why are you so against that life?” she wondered, but he didn’t have an answer for her. In fact, it just made him uncomfortable and kind of emotional. “I love you, so fucking much. That’s why I agreed to marry you. That’s why I agreed to all of this crazy shit. Because beyond all doubt in this world, I know that my heart completely belongs to you. But right now, you are picking to be this character over your own family. You’re trying to balance the two, but you’re not. We’re secondary in your life Negan. And this Sanctuary Negan is going to continue to rule over the dreams you really had in your life. Not these false dreams that this world created for you.”

“I can’t be the man that I wanted to be when I was in my twenties Y/N,” Negan stated with a frown, his head shaking slowly. “Yeah. More than anything I wanted to be a dad. That was the thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted to be happy and I wanted to have a big family. That farmhouse was never achievable for me.”

“It was,” she shook her head with a scoff. “And it still is.”

“The world will not let me be the man that I always wanted when I was younger,” Negan repeated, his hands reaching up to cup her face in them tenderly. “I’ve done things. Things that I can’t take back and…”

“But you can run away from that life Negan,” she pushed, her eyes tearing over when she stared down at him with physical pain at the idea of what he was saying. “I know that you like feeling important. I know that you like having the power. Power feels good. But in the eyes of your children? You’re the most important person in the world. You are their hero. You’re their silly, amazing father that loves them. What more in the world could you possibly want?”

Parting his lips to say something, Negan huffed out with his bottom lip trembling and he was actually getting really emotional, “You have your second chance Negan and the world is holding it out for you. It’s giving you your second chance. It’s just waiting for you to take it. Because you have two beautiful children and a woman that loves you. A woman that has always loved you. A woman that has put you above her time and time again because all she ever wanted was to make you happy. A woman that just wishes that for once…” in that moment her words stopped and he saw that she pushed up to sit down on the towel. Slowly lifting up, Negan looked to her and saw that she was trying to hide that she was getting emotional herself. “A woman that wishes for once you would choose her. That choosing her over your own ego is what you really want.”

“I did choose you,” Negan curled his finger in underneath her chin to get her to look at him. His breath hitched when he saw the tears that were sliding down her face. “That’s why we are married Y/N. I chose you.”

“I just want to be enough for once Negan,” she informed him, a whimper falling from her parted lips. “You always told me that I was perfect. And god I hated hearing it. Because there was always that but that followed. You’re perfect Y/N. You’re just not perfect for me…”

“That was the past,” Negan reasoned with her and she let out a hesitant laugh. “I was so blinded by my own stupidity to see how things really were.”

“Negan, The Sanctuary is your Lucille now,” she spoke quietly, her jawline flexing when his hand lowered. Hearing that was like a kick to the gut. “You’re picking The Sanctuary over me. Over your children. And once again, I’m perfect, but I’m not perfect enough to give up this life for. I gave up all of my dreams for you Negan. Every single one of them. All I’m asking you to do is to finally take the dream you wanted from the start. The one you begged me for twelve to eleven years ago. Be a father. Move to the farm. Forget this life. You got to be powerful. You got to experience it. If you really, genuinely love me…be the family man you always wanted to be. Become that farmer. Take care of the crops and the animals. Cowboy Negan was always a very good look for you.”

“Shit,” Negan scoffed lowering his head down and letting out an upset breath. When she laid that out on the table before him like that, things really started to make sense to what she was saying. Stroking at the back of his neck, Negan shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Fine. Yeah. You’re one hundred percent right.”

“About what?” she was curious seeing him wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand drawing attention to just how beautiful his hazel eyes truly were.

“That I need to give that place up. I have my family back,” Negan answered admitting to her that she was finally right. “I have my wife and my children back in my life and that farm was my dreamhouse. Which I’m fully capable of having now. I’ll move my men out. I will grab the things I want and we can go there. Be together. Live our life there and be happy.”

“Come on,” she sighed feeling like it was just something he was saying at this point. “You can’t say things that you don’t plan to follow up on Negan. I’ve known you for fifteen plus years.”

“Then look at me,” Negan demanded, reaching for her to get her to lock gazes with him again. “I promise you, when we get home I will let everyone know that I’m done. They can pick amongst themselves who they want to be their leader and I will take you along with the kids to the farm. We can be happy together. Like we always should have been. We’ll be out within the week.”

“Tell me you’re being serious,” she begged of him and Negan nodded his head.

“I’m very serious. You’re absolutely right. For too long you’ve been living your life for me. It’s time I finally lived the life I always stressed that I wanted,” Negan declared with a simple shrug of his shoulders feeling his chest aching. For so long she was in pain because of him and he knew that. “You are perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect for the children and I just want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how perfect you really are. I can’t do that at The Sanctuary. I swear to you with everything that I am. I fucking mean it.”

An amused rumble of laughter fell from his throat when she leapt forward into his arms knocking him back into the sand. Holding her close, Negan laughed and nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck. He couldn’t remember a time that she was happy like this because of him making the right decision for once.

“I love you more than anything,” Negan admitted, his words vibrating against her flesh after he pressed kisses against her lips. There was something in the way she looked at him that took his breath away. “You’re everything to me. You and those kids. I’m not going to fuck it up this time.”

“Thank you Negan,” she breathed out, her forehead pressing to his while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I have an idea,” Negan whispered, squeezing her tightly in his arms. “It’s time I picked you for once. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

----

It was late into the morning and by now Negan should have been on his way back with Y/N to The Sanctuary, but he couldn’t find it in himself to move. Yesterday they had spent more time on the beach together before finding their way back to the cabin. Inside of it, they had shared memories and just talked for a while before falling back into one another again. Y/N had fallen asleep easily last night in his arms, but Negan didn’t get much sleep if any at all. Instead he just held her in his arms and watched her sleep. Everything she said the night before was true and he knew it was time for him to finally step up to be the man he always promised he wanted to be.

The sun was shining in through the small window, hitting them just enough from where they were laying together on the tiny mattress they were stretched out on together. Being someone that was a full-time father and farmer he knew they wouldn’t get as many chances to have these wild, crazy sex nights together. At The Sanctuary, he had people to watch over the children, but now he had to be one hundred percent dad. Even though he enjoyed moments like that, he was willing to finally take on that role. Honestly? Negan had never really been a fulltime dad. Not since Evie was born. Even though he was always on backup, Negan was a fulltime dad two weeks a month for seven years. Then the world fell to shit and Lucille got sick. That’s when he gave up being a dad completely. And that was the biggest mistake he felt like he ever made in his life.

Picking solely Lucille and throwing away his daughter was a stupid mistake chosen out of fear. So many days he wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t. Now he finally had the chance to make things right. For Evie. For Nathan. For Y/N and finally himself. Most of his nights had been fueled by nightmares since he lost Evie. Now he had the chance to live the life he always wanted. He should have taken it from the start, but now he was finally seeing just how important it actually was for him to take this step.

“You have the prettiest eyelashes I’ve ever seen,” Y/N’s voice was quiet while she shifted over his chest from where she had been sleeping. Gazing down, Negan saw that behind her tired eyes, she was staring out at him. “I was always drawn to your eyes and your smile.”

“I think little man has the eyelashes too,” Negan noted, stretching his body out finally when he knew that she was fully awake. All night he had tried to stay still because he was afraid of waking her up. “I think he’s going to be a charmer when he’s older. Winning the hearts of whoever he sets his sights on.”

“He has taken on a lot of your physical traits,” she agreed with Negan, a tiny smile pulling at her fatigued features. “Nathan has your looks. Evie has certainly got your personality.”

“I’d like to think they were an equal mix of both of us,” Negan gave her a wink, squeezing her in closer to his body with a snicker.

“Being at the farm will give me time to work on things with Evie too,” she admitted, her fingers stroking over the center of Negan’s chest. “For years our relationship has been terrible. She’s hated me for something I couldn’t control. Hopefully, with us being a family again and being at the farm we can finally make things right.”

“I thought things have been getting better,” Negan suggested, his eyes narrowing when he thought back on his discussions with Evie to be better to her mother. “I’ve heard her tell you that she loves you.”

“Yeah, but hopefully this can help heal our daughter’s heart,” she whispered, pressing a faint kiss over Negan’s shoulder. “She’s become someone I hardly know over the last few years. She used to be the happiest, smiley little girl. Whether she was with you or me. I always knew you were her favorite, but she loved me a lot too. Maybe we can finally get back to that at the farm. So I can spend more time trying to be a good mother to her. Focusing on her.”

“You’ve been an extremely good mother to her,” Negan stressed, his fingers sweeping in underneath her chin to get her to look up at him. Sadness remained from her talking about their daughter and Negan shook his head. “You kept our children safe. You made sure that they were always well kept and alive. Protected. You’re an amazing mother Y/N and I promise you, Evie is going to see that one day soon. And then everything will be back to normal.”

“I hope so,” she sighed, cuddling her head in against the center of Negan’s chest. “We should probably get ready to go, huh?”

“Eh,” Negan scoffed, his nose wrinkling in discomfort. “Let’s just wait a little while longer. This is the last time we can really fuck off as parents. Let’s take our time together and then slowly make our way back. I want to focus on the time I have with you for a little while.”

“So you want to have sex again?” she inquired, her eyebrow arching in amusement. Placing his free hand over the center of his chest, Negan shook his head. “Fine, I’ll just get dressed…”

Watching her crawling away made Negan huff when he swiftly moved in over her, pinning her down face first on the small bed that was beneath her. With a giggle, she felt Negan’s lips kissing down over the side of her neck and she purred out, “that’s what I thought.”

“You flash your ass at me, what am I supposed to do?” Negan wondered turning her onto her back to get her to look up at him with her arms hooking around his shoulders. “I am a man after all. My dick is already hard in the morning and then you go flashing your ass at me.”

“You’re a dork,” she snickered with Negan’s lips covering hers. Each kiss grew in intensity having her gasp out when Negan adjusted her legs to have them wrap around his waist. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Negan breathed out, nibbling at her bottom lip eliciting a purr from her. “You don’t want this?”

“I want this,” she assured him, stroking her fingers down over the side of his neck taking her time to stare up at him. “Can you just drag it out for me? As much as I like sex, I’m just kind of hoping for something where I feel loved. Where it feels like you are making love to me.”

“I have absolutely zero problems with that,” Negan whispered behind loving and passionate kisses.

And he gave her exactly what she asked of him. It was slow and unhurried. There was lots of touching, praises and careful movements. What she asked for, he delivered and afterwards they just laid together for a little while longer before starting to pack up with things.

“I think I’m going to steal a stash of the candy, coffee and the ice cream before we leave The Sanctuary,” Negan announced while they gathered their things and started heading back toward the car that Negan had parked down at the bottom of the mountain.

“Maybe some seeds for planting might be good too,” she suggested moving in beside him and making him yelp out when he felt her pinching his ass. It made him smile though that she was open to being that way with him.

“The hands woman!” Negan was loud and silly when he swatted her hand away from him. Once they had everything packed up back inside of the car, Negan reached for her hand to pull her in against his chest. “I love you. So fucking much. You know that.”

“Hmmm…I don’t know,” she whispered, she tipped up on her toes wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him in closer to her. “Maybe you should say it again so I can think harder about it.”

“I fucking love you,” Negan slurred against her lips pulling her in closer to him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered against his mouth, humming when they pulled away. “I always will.”

“Good,” Negan teased with a wrinkle of his nose. Palming down over her back, Negan’s palms squeezed at her bottom before peppering a few final kisses over her lips. “We need to start back on our drive. But just know, this is a day I won’t soon forget.”

“Nor will I baby,” she agreed with a wink following Negan to the car where he opened the door for her to get in. Taking the seat, she watched Negan almost skip to the other side where he got in himself. The smile on his face was contagious. And it made her happy to see. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this happy for me.”

“I could say the very same thing about you,” Negan muttered, his fingers reaching out to sweep in over the side of her face. “I’m just glad that I’ve been lucky enough for you to give me so many chances Y/N. I never deserved them, but you never gave up on me. You were the one person that never did.”

Instead of saying something, she led him to her again to kiss him. It took his breath away and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. There was a need deep inside of his veins to show her all the love in the world. And he hoped that she felt it. Especially after everything he put her through. He wanted to spend the rest of his life trying to prove it too. And that started with finally giving up The Sanctuary to focus solely on his family.

On the drive back, they would have silly discussions since it was quite a distance for them. Just to keep each other focused. When they weren’t super far away from The Sanctuary though, Negan had noticed a small town that they hadn’t searched before.

“Why don’t we go search to see if there is something good?” she suggested, pointing in the direction of it. “It’s a town right off the water. There might be some good supplies there. We can find something for the farm and snag it before other people find it?”

“Shit,” Negan stopped the car, gazing over at her with a huff when he realized she was right. “I probably could just have them run out tomorrow and go search for things honey. That way it’s back at The Sanctuary before we actually leave.”

“I don’t mind Negan,” she offered seeing that he was actually considering his options. “It gives us more time together for our honeymoon.”

“Fine,” Negan grumbled under his breath, turning the car around so they could head back toward the city. Driving through it, Negan made sure that it seemed pretty much abandoned before parking on the main street in the small town. “There is no one here which makes me think it’s probably picked over babe.”

“Or we can just be lucky,” she eagerly got out of the car and stretched. Grabbing his weapon and Lucille, Negan was quick to follow after her as they made their way up main street looking over the stores that were there. “I remember when we went to places like this all the time when I had my days off. Your favorite place to eat was always that seafood restaurant.”

“I do love a good lobster roll,” Negan sighed thinking about the past when she used to pamper him. “God, I’d kill for one of those. They had the best biscuits, lobster rolls and soup. I probably could have eaten there every day if I wasn’t poor as fuck. I miss that shit.”

“If you get a few lobsters before we leave, we can try to recreate the recipe,” she suggested looking back over her shoulder at him with a simple shrug. “We aren’t that far away from the coast, right? I’m sure we can get someone to find some.”

“True,” Negan agreed with her, noticing the way that she was eyeing over the storefronts as they would pass them. “Do you remember when I was a deadbeat and I would make dinner for us all the time when you were at work?”

“Sure,” she smirked at the thought of him calling himself a deadbeat. “I remember Lucille telling me that when you lost your job at the school you became an even better cook.”

“Right,” Negan’s expression became somewhat serious when she brought up two negatives from his past. Lucille and losing his job at the school. “I was going to say that when I was living with Lucille, we didn’t get lobster a lot because we didn’t always have the funds, but there was one point where I made these two really incredible versions. I did the Maine style and the Connecticut style. I think I was on the verge of getting it just right.”

“You should have became a chef,” she commented, finding herself surprised when Negan’s fingers hooked with hers attempting his best to hold her hand. “I know you loved your sports, but you always loved cooking. I would have supported you.”

“You always took care of me Y/N,” Negan reminded her, stopping her enough to get her to look out at him. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers through her hair and sighed. “The sad thing is, I do believe if I told you I want to be a fucking chef, you would have opened a restaurant for me.”

“I would have done anything for you,” she breathed out, her eyes hooked on his and it made him let out a long exhale.

“I never doubted that,” Negan alerted her with a sigh leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “I probably would have been so much happier if I did become a chef.”

“Probably not,” she teased him, tipping her head back to stare into his hazel eyes. “The first time someone complained you would probably come out and dump the food over their heads before kicking their ass. I’d be bailing you out of jail all the time.”

“Touché,” Negan snickered, nuzzling his nose in against hers before something caught his attention in the corner. “From where we are I see a grocery store, a toy store and a bar. Let’s go hit up all three.”

“Sounds like a date we would have had when we were younger,” she suggested with a weak smile causing Negan’s nose to wrinkle. Keeping his fingers tightly around Lucille, he grabbed a hold of her hand and led her first toward the grocery store. The glass on the doors were shattered and she didn’t have a lot of faith that there would be much of anything after all this time. Tugging at the doors that were held together by a chain, Negan made enough room for her to get between them before following her in. Inside shelves were pushed over, broken glass covered the floor and there was a flickering light coming from the back of the store. “I’m going to guess this is a no go.”

“We’ll still look,” Negan hushed her, motioning her to wait. Tapping Lucille against the floor several times, Negan waited to see if he could draw out any of the walkers. When nothing happened, he looked back at her with a shrug. Grabbing a cart, Negan reached for it and pointed toward the basket. “Get in.”

“You must be joking,” her nose wrinkled looking down at the cart and he huffed.

“Have some fun,” Negan snickered, holding his hand out to help her into the cart after she rolled her eyes. Like he usually could, he convinced her to do what he wanted in getting into the shopping cart. Putting Lucille into the cart with her, Negan started rolling the cart throughout the store observing what was left on the shelves. “We used to fuck around a lot when we were younger.”

“In what fashion?” she tipped her head back and he smirked. “We got in some trouble in the first year together.”

“We did,” Negan snickered stopping in one aisle when he saw some cans sitting on the shelves. Reaching for the first few he wiggled them about causing her nose to wrinkle since it was sardines. Tossing it into the cart with her, Negan grabbed a few of the other cans that were left there knowing that it was things that were just picked over, but it didn’t hurt to have non-perishables. “I just meant we would do silly things like this. I remember when I did this with you that one time we ended up getting kicked out of that store.”

“Rightfully so, we were being stupid,” she reminded him with a hesitant laugh, “you were racing up and down the aisles like a maniac.”

“But you had fun,” Negan grumbled under his breath grabbing a firm hold of the handle starting to push the cart down the lanes quickly like he had done when they were younger. It had her grasping tightly to the sides of the cart with every sharp turn he took. Hearing her laughter made him smile figuring that she was reminiscing about their past and just having fun being silly.

“Negan!” she squealed out when one half of the cart went up on its side but he managed to catch it, slamming it down onto the ground. “You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that.”

“I’ve got you. You’re safe with me,” Negan assured her, pressing down to steal a quick kiss from her lips. Being more careful, they went through every lane and grabbed the things that were still left before he took her into the back. As soon as the door opened, Negan heard her let out an uncomfortable sound when they saw the long-decomposed corpse of someone that had hung themselves. “Well fuck.”

After some silence, Negan cleared his throat and moved around the body, “He probably had a stash in here somewhere if someone didn’t steal it already.”

“Negan,” she frowned noticing that Negan didn’t have a care in the world that there was a body hanging before them. Managing to work her way out of the cart, she was careful in the way she moved when she observed the body. “I don’t see any marks on him.”

“Some people just couldn’t handle the stress of things Y/N,” Negan let out an excited breath after pushing through some of the bags to see that there was one hidden with a bunch of supplies. Lifting the bag up, he moved in beside her to show her what he had. “Jackpot. Looks like they have some guns, food and tools.”

“Don’t you feel bad taking his things?” she pushed hearing Negan scoff when he set the bag down in the shopping cart.

“Why? He’s not using it,” Negan suggested moving around the back of the store. There were a few sleeping bags in there so he was surprised this was the only body they actually found. “You know Y/N, I learned to stop caring about people a long time ago. When you care about people it’s only going to get you killed.”

“You care about me,” she reminded him and Negan scoffed.

“That’s different,” Negan countered with a quick tip of his head.

Gasping out, Negan tugged at one of the bags knocking over one of the shelves. It had both of them jumping when a hidden area was revealed behind one of the walls. Clearing his throat, Negan’s eyes narrowed when he realized what was being hidden. Y/N went to step forward and Negan immediately shook his head, “Don’t.”

“What is it?” she of course couldn’t listen to him and moved in beside Negan to see what looked like three walkers that were fading away almost completely. Two of them looked like children and the other was a woman. “Jesus.”

“Come here,” Negan pulled her back toward him noticing the sadness that flooded her features. “You can’t let things like this bother you Y/N. They aren’t people anymore.”

“They were babies Negan,” she felt her throat going dry assuming that the body they found hanging was likely the father and the husband of the bodies that were almost completely fading away. “It bothers me to see what has happened to so many children.”

“It happened to most of the world,” Negan hooked his arms around her, pulling her into a tight squeeze. “Instead of being upset about people we never knew, you have to focus on the fact that all four of us are still here.”

With a nod, Y/N forced herself to look away and Negan urged her out away after doing another quick scope of what was left. There was a door they could get out of easier in the back. Taking the things back to the car, Negan packed them up and then led her toward the bar. When the doors were locked, Negan grumbled to himself and managed to break one of the windows. Crawling in, he motioned her to wait and then pulled the tables away from the door so she could get in. Once she was, Negan pushed the tables back and instructed her to wait for him while he checked the kitchen. And he was glad he had her stay where she was because there were multiple sets of bones in the freezer. Around the bar he was able to find some alcohol bottles and some bags of flour that hadn’t been used. After he was done setting them aside, he could see that Y/N was standing behind the bar and it made him smile.

“Does this bring back old memories for you?” Negan slid his hands across the bar top and stopped before her. Tapping his hands against the top of it, Negan bobbed his head about and she snickered. “I bet every time you came to a bar you thought about our first time together.”

“I did,” she agreed with him, looking behind the bar and her eyes fell upon a bottle of whiskey that was left there. Picking it up, she set it on top of the bar and watched him smile. “Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed being a bartender. I was good at it. And for the most part, it was always nice learning things about people. Sometimes it felt like people just came here to have someone to talk to because they had no one.”

“You want a drink?” Negan grabbed a hold of the bottle wiping it off with his white t-shirt. Managing to get it open, he smelled the alcohol inside before taking a long swig of it. Hissing out, he tipped his head to the side and sighed. Extending his hand out, he saw her eyeing over the bottle before accepting it. Considering her first sip, she shrugged her shoulders before taking a long drink of it as well.

“Do you remember when we first started dating? You used to come to the bar every night after that guy tried attacking me. You would just take the corner table at the start of my shift and you would stay until I left,” she pointed toward the back corner of the bar they were in and he smirked when she brought up their past. “I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. This incredibly handsome stranger saves me from getting hurt. He’s so good looking, charming, he’s good at sex and he’s well equipped,” she rambled off causing Negan’s nose to wrinkle and he snickered. “And he wants to keep me safe. I couldn’t believe that someone would ever be dumb enough to dump him. Sure, he may have been going through a rough time, but he was…perfect.”

Negan’s jawline flexed when she looked down toward the bar top and sighed, “I don’t know if you remember, but you used to draw all the time while you were waiting. I would come over and you’d have all these little things drawn out on bar napkins and you’d write me these notes.”

“I was always drawing back then. I used to think Evie started drawing because I was always doodling,” Negan noted, setting the bottle down and reaching out to stroke his hand in over Y/N’s. “What about it though?”

“I kept all of those,” she admitted with a weak smile, her head shaking when she let out a long sigh. “I used to always put them in my top drawer when I got home. I think I had even put them in a booklet at one point. It’s at our old house somewhere. Probably in my closet if it wasn’t stolen. There were two I always kept with me though. It was the ones where you would draw us as cartoon characters. The first one you ever drew me…and…”

“And?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in curiosity when her lips parted and she let out a tremoring breath.

“There was one you drew when I was pregnant of what was supposed to be us at our wedding. It was us at our wedding holding the baby. It was really cute. I still have them in the nightstand beside the bed at the farm if your men haven’t destroyed it. I had a few pictures in there too,” she declared with a long sigh grabbing the bottle to drink more than he expected her to.

“You really kept those?” Negan wondered, his throat tensing up when she nodded after setting it down. “They were just meant to be silly little things. I thought you would throw them away.”

“I was head over heels in love with you,” she reminded him grabbing the bottle before moving around the bar to go over toward the corner of the seating area to sit on the floor. Moving in beside her, Negan slowly lowered down and could tell that she was upset thinking about things. “You know, originally our four-month ultrasound was supposed to be a week later. You were just so excited that when they had an opening and called me, I took it.”

“Why are you doing this?” Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat when he noticed that she was getting upset again about their past. “You have to stop hurting yourself over our past.”

“You don’t ever think about how things would have been if we didn’t take that appointment that day?” Y/N inquired with Negan’s features growing sad. Tipping her head to the side, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Of course you don’t. It gave you back Lucille, so why would you never want it to happen?”

“It gave you Lucille too,” Negan countered reaching for the bottle when he thought she was drinking too much of it. “And you loved Lucille too.”

“I love Lucille. Her dying didn’t stop me from loving her,” she corrected Negan, a shuddering breath falling from her throat. “A lot of my life I considered the what ifs. Like what if I would have taken that later appointment? We could have found out about our little girl. You would have been happy. You would have missed Lucille completely. We would have gotten married. Maybe we would have been living happily in that farm all along.”

“Or maybe I would have been bitten while working at the school,” Negan reasoned with her noticing the tears that were in her eyes. “I can’t even begin to apologize enough to you for our past. I fucked up. I fucked up so fucking bad. I know that. But it happened and we can’t change what happened. What matters is that we are together now. You always wanted to be married to me. Now you are. We have two beautiful children and by the end of the week we will be living at the farm together. You’re going to get everything you ever wanted in life. Everything I ever wanted in life. You have to think about that stuff and not the past.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she apologized with Negan grabbing a hold of the bottle of alcohol to drink a hefty amount from it.

“Here I was thinking about the two of us absolutely plowing each other in the bar nightly. Whether it was the first night or every night after when you would close up. We had so much fun,” Negan recalled with a hiss when he lowered the bottle from his lips. “I had so many of the best memories from those nights. We figured out so many different ways to have sex in a bar…”

A loud sigh was heard and he noticed the way that Y/N was staring out at him from the things that he remembered, “What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head letting out a long sigh. An uncomfortable laugh fell from her throat and Negan felt a warmth flooding into his face. “That’s really your best memories with us? The two of us fucking in the bar? I’m talking about the things you did that made me feel happy and safe. And all you can think about is us fucking?”

“I get in a bar Y/N and my dick gets hard thinking about it,” Negan answered with a simple shrug of his shoulders. Pointing down toward the center of his pants, Negan scoffed and let out a long exhale. “I was kind of hoping that we could have another round. Relive the past a bit. That’s why I picked a bar in the first place.”

“Of course you did,” she stole the bottle from him and stood up from the floor to pace.

“What’s wrong with me wanting to bend you over the bar and fuck you?” Negan questioned, his brow line furrowing when he let out a grunt as he tried pulling himself up. “It’s our honeymoon so to speak. I don’t see a problem with it. We like fucking each other. Our first time was in a bar and a significant part to the beginning of our life was fucking in a bar. So yes, I get in a bar and I think about fucking you which are pretty incredible moments.”

“I was searching for some of your favorite moments that you spent with me. Instead you responded with sex which is what I always thought our relationship was anyways. It would have been nice hearing some good memories that weren’t sex related,” she rolled her eyes, heading for the back when she heard Negan call out to her.

“The first night you let me sleep in your bed with you, I never felt more wanted in my entire life. I was never a hero. In fact, in my life I never felt as good as I did when I saved you that night. I’m not a hero Y/N. We both know that, but never in my life could I ever top that moment. I remember you were laying in my arms and I thought about how much I loved you. How much I wanted to keep you safe. I still remember the way you looked sleeping on my chest that night,” Negan rambled out, drawing her to walk back into the room with him when he approached her. “The day we got Darwin together is one of my absolute favorites. I close my eyes and I can still picture what it was like. His ears were so damn big and he was so fucking small. We would play with him in the backyard and he would trip over his ears. One of my favorites was when we moved in to that home after being in your apartment. I remember carrying you over the threshold thinking about how in that moment, it felt like everything was right in the world. Or the night you told me about being pregnant. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

Negan was getting emotional when he threw his hands up in the air, “Even if it wasn’t special for you, the day that Evie was born. I remember sitting in bed beside you, holding that little girl in my arms and nothing ever topped that feeling again. That happy, fucking through the roof feeling to know that we created something so fucking beautiful. Something so fucking perfect.”

Holding his hands out like he was holding onto a baby, Negan huffed out and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not much of a romantic Y/N. We both know that. We both know I’m an asshole. We both know I say the dumbest shit. My mouth runs before my brain even considers what it’s doing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not head over heels in love with you. My favorite nights were those times we would just sit on the couch together watching old episodes of the Twilight Zone. So please, if I’m being fucking horny don’t think all I care about is sex because I really fucking love you. And I’m doing my best. I’m just a dick that is trying his best. I have a lot to work on, but I’m trying. And hopefully moving to the farm will help push that along.”

A shuddering breath fell from Y/N’s parted lips when he wiggled his fingers at her, “So why don’t you set that bottle of alcohol down and come here so I can kiss the shit outta you.”

“You have a way with words, don’t you?” she rolled her eyes, setting the bottle of alcohol down on top of the bar. Heading across the small bar, she felt Negan’s arms wrapping around her when he lowered down to capture her lips in an extended, passionate kiss that had her wrapping her arms around his shoulders. When they finally did part, Negan nuzzled his nose in against hers. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” he agreed with her, an arrogant smile tugging at his features when he started to pepper faint kisses over her lips. Sliding his hands down in over her bottom had her letting out an uneven breath. “I’m going to guess bar sex is out of the question now?”

“Will it make you happy?” she frowned with him considering her question before nodding. “Then fine. I would do anything to make you happy.”

----

Tags:@slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @neganswoman @ravenrose18 @xojdmasf

[swiss-mrs]

PORTALS (I)

Eddie Munson x Reader/OC - Intro

This AU takes inspiration from The Witcher Series and DND, but prior knowledge of The Witcher or DND is not needed.

AU "Warnings": Violence, Angst, Adventure, Gore, Supernatural Elements, Adult Themes and Language. No Use of Y/N

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: Medium-Long Hair, No Mentions of Race, Ethnicity, Age, Etc.

(WC 5,038)

‘Fuck, this sucks!’ Eddie thinks to himself as he blows hot breath into his hands. ‘Of fucking course I lose my keys right now.’

Round 4 of pacing through the woods and still no luck. Eddie ducks down to try and get a better view of something metallic looking under a bush. “Oh thank God. AH-” He stumbles forward and braces himself, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing to eat dirt, yet it doesn’t happen. He wheezes as his back hits the ground with a dull thud, 'fucking tree.' He tries catching his breath, opening his eyes to see the moonlit treetops above him. ‘The fuck?’ He furrows his brows, lifting his back off the ground, adjusting into a sitting position. He stares at his legs in front of him. “What the fuck?” He repeats out loud.

Eddie looks around the ground beneath him. ‘How did I…’ He moves his left hand feeling the mulchy ground before hitting something hard. His features relax a bit as he turns toward the glistening item, reflecting a warm glow. “Sweet.” A little smile forms on his lips as he grabs his keys and begins to lift himself up, but he is quick to furrow his brows again. Eddie then finally looks up to take in his surroundings. Doing a quick 360, he now notices he can no longer see his van nor the parking lot just beyond the tree line. In fact, it seems the trees just go on forever. “What the fuck?” He questions again, a bit more panicked.

Eddie faces the source of warm glow. ‘A campfire? There’s no way I didn’t notice that before. I couldn't have wandered THAT far.’ His mind starts running a million miles an hour for an explanation of his current state, retracing events over and over. ‘Maybe I should just go over and see if those guys can help…’ Though he can’t see anything past the fire and there doesn’t appear to be anyone huddled around it, he feels a natural instinct to head towards it. Just before his foot touches the ground to take a step, he’s back to laid out and wheezing.

He hit the ground a lot harder this time, and his body is quick to try and regain air, but it can’t. Eddie starts coughing and gasping so much that he barely has the chance to notice the sting of cool metal against his neck.

“You better have a good reason for me not to kill you where you lay.” a voice calls out, low and threatening yet incredibly calm for the situation at hand. Eddie's eyes shoot open as his coughing fit dies down. He stares up in shock at the kneeling figure on his chest.

“What the-” His mind goes blank as he takes in the silhouette above him. It’s hard to see every detail as they are covered head to toe with various layers and the brightest light source is behind them.

They are hooded and masked with an entrancing, mystical glow emitting from their eyes and a few trendless of hair flowing from beneath the hood. Even with one knee jabbed into his chest and a sword against his neck, Eddie couldn’t help but be completely awe struck. This stranger was right out of his character journal but better.

“You mustn't test my patience now.” The figure stated, knee driving deeper, blade nearly drawing blood.

“waH- WAIT! WAIT!” Eddie stammers, putting his palms up in surrender. The figure's glowing eyes narrowed, urging him to continue. “Please! I- I swear I’m not here to bring harm! I’m just lost!” He shouts out in a panic. The figure’s head cocks to the side. Eddie can’t see clearly, but he swears he sees an eyebrow raise. “Please… Take this really awesome looking sword away from my jugular and just let me explain.” Eddie tries to reason with the stranger. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the stranger gets up, standing next to Eddie’s laying figure, sword unwavering.

“Up.” the voice cuts through the air as if speaking directly into Eddie’s mind. He moves as quickly as he can with caution, not wanting to spook the sword’s wielder into chopping his head clean off. He slowly lifts his hands in the air again to show no harm.

“Okay, okay.” He breathes out quickly as his mind tries to explain himself. The stranger’s face gets slightly more illuminated as they now stand. Eddie can see them eyeing him up and down, their gaze now holding a hint of confusion. Eddie takes a deep breath, “My name is Eddie. I lost my keys after coming out here to take a piss and right as I found them I tripped and now I have this super badass looking warrior standing in front of me with a blade to my neck.” He rambles. “ I have no idea how I managed to get this far from my van, and, though really cool and really scary, I am really confused as to what is happening right now.” He answers truthfully. The hooded figure only continues to stand still, staring into his soul. “I swear on my life, I am just really lost… Please.” He begs, hoping his story is enough.

“Where are you from, Eddie?” The shift in their voice as they say his name is almost taunting, untrusting.

“Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana.” He answers quickly.

“Hm.” It is short, testing. A second later, the sharp coolness on Eddie’s neck disappears, and he relaxes. The blade flickers by the stranger’s side. “Eddie of Hawkins.” All tension floods back into his body, awaiting for the next sentence. “It is quite obvious you are not from here, but I fear you may be more lost than you know.” The masked swordsman turns their back on Eddie, walking back towards the fire. “I advise you to go back to… Hawkins.” The words unfamiliar to their tongue. “You do not belong here.” Eddie stands there with his hands hanging in the air, dumbfounded.

‘Ouch…’ He’d hate to admit it, but for some reason, that stung. He breathed a sigh, resting his arms back at his sides. He watches as the figure gets farther, sitting on a log next to the fire. Eddie stares for a moment, then glances behind him to look at the never ending woods, then looks back to the figure next to the fire. He takes a few steps back, turning to head the opposite direction of the fire.

He doesn’t know it, but the figure's eyes find him again, watching as he stumbles further into the night. The figure shakes their head as they continue to tend to the fire.

》》》

“Fucking Christ.” Eddie mumbles to himself. He’s been walking in no particular direction for what feels like a good 20 minutes. ‘There is no way I managed to get THIS far from the lot.’ He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around him and his jacket. ‘I should have just asked for directions. Maybe even ask if I could stay by the fire with them until morning.’ Eddie shakes his head at his own foolishness. “Stupid.” Another seemingly 10 minutes pass and he hears the sound of rushing water. ‘Maybe it’s a river. I’m pretty sure following a river is a good idea to lead somewhere.’

Eddie changes direction a little, leading him to a wide body of shallow water. If it weren't for the circumstances, he would’ve loved to just sit and admire the way the moonlight shone like glitter atop the water. As he looked around Eddie noticed another light emitting from the other side of the river. He is quick to spot a fallen tree that looks to be his best option to get to the other side of the water without soaking his feet. Eddie uses a couple rocks to help hop his way over to the tree. Walking across the tree, he starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. ‘What the fuck was up with that masked person back there? A sword?’

Eddie hops off the makeshift bridge and to the ground, continuing his trek toward the fire. The closer he gets, he notices what looks to be several people laying on the floor next to the fire. He sighs in relief, ‘Maybe a group of campers will be of more help.’

Just as he is about to announce his presence, something catches his foot, causing him to trip forward. This time, landing as gravity intended, on his face. “Really?” he says out loud in frustration. He spits at the dirt stuck to his lips and turns as he sits up looking down at what tripped him this time.

His eyes nearly jump out of his head. ‘No way.’ He scoots back a bit further, scrambling away. ‘Is that a LEG?!' He feels the need to scream as his breath picks up. He turns towards the campsite and now realizes a crucial fact he did not notice from afar. The bodies that littered the ground around him were just that, bodies. Mangled bodies. Dead people.

Eddie scrambles to get farther away from the gruesome scene in front of him. “AHH!” He yells out. “What the shit fuck!?” His panicked eyes scan around him. The bodies, rather body parts, that litter the forest floor are all torn as if jagged claws or teeth ripped them apart. He can't bare the sight yet he can't tear his eyes away from the scene. He scrambles to his feet and begins to slowly walk backwards, back toward the river. Crack. Eddie stills, ceasing his movements, holding his breath. 'That wasn't me. Is whatever did this still here? Shit, I really shouldn't have made so much noise.' Crack. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his ears. Snap. What he'd originally thought was the sound of twigs, now sounds an awful lot like the breaking of bones. God, how he wished he didn't have to be so familiar with that sound.

Crack. Eddie's head whips to his left, trying to find the source of the noise. There he sees two piercing white dots looming in the dark. Eddie remains frozen in place, holding the gaze of whatever this is. His heart quickens impossibly faster as the floating dots start to menacingly raise higher and higher. "f-fuck." his trembling voice coming out as a whisper. He stumbles back further, his brain screaming for his body to run. This thing in front of him stands at least 8 feet tall. As it stands to its full height, it lets out a piercing, high-pitched screech, rattling Eddie's skull.

"fuuUUUUAHHHHH!" He yells out as he turns and starts running back toward the river. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" He repeats his entire run. He can hear the rapid footsteps of the creature behind him, quickly catching up to him. 'I'm not gonna make it!' He has no idea why he urges himself back to the way he came. There is no out running this thing. Maybe he's just instinctually trying to reach that masked being he encountered before? They had weapons at least, but they were a good 30 minute walk away. He wasn't even sure if they were still there. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd even reach them in time even if they were still where he left them. He could see the tree he came across on, but would he even have time to climb back on it and make it across?

"GET DOWN!" a voice booms. Eddie quickly dives toward the fallen tree and into the shallow water, hoping to at least use the wood as a barrier between him and that thing.

The horrid, inhuman shriek of the monster blares once again, a more human-sounding yell interrupting it, challenging it. The sounds of a struggle could be heard, but Eddie was too preoccupied with trying to catch his breath. All he can hear is the sounds of water sloshing, monster shrieks, and the occasional huff from presumably the one fighting off the beast. Everything in him wants to run, but he fights the urge.

Eddie makes his way to his knees, kneeling behind the tree and lifting his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the battle happening. He doesn't catch much as not a second after he lifts his head above the tree does he catch a familiar assailant flit from the ground to a large rock just on the edge of the riverbed to the creature's spiked back, a black smoke-like substance following each move. Their movements were so swift and fast, Eddie could have sworn they just teleported.

The monster shrieks again in panicked defiance, the assailant driving their sword down into the back of the creature's neck, cutting the noise short. The fighter swings down from the creature's back, around its right shoulder, passing its front and landing a few feet away from the tree hiding Eddie. The fighter lands with a splash at the same time as the creature's head falls into the water behind them, the rest of its body falling suit.

Eddie stares in absolute awe. 'Holy Christ...' The fighter stands from their slightly crouched landing. As they lift their head, Eddie notices their mask has slipped, revealing their face 'Woah.' He couldn't help but stare, tracing each feature of their face with his eyes. He waited for them to look up, finding himself longing to see those glowing eyes again.

"You can come out now, Eddie of Hawkins." Eddie's breath hitches. He stands slowly, glancing from the figure to the decapitated creature behind them. "Come." Their voice demands as they begin to walk toward the monster's head, picking the cursed thing up, wrapping it in a dark cloth, and continuing out of the water to the side they originally came from. Eddie is quick to follow, stumbling along the tree's length and to the river's edge, jogging up to meet the familiar stranger once out of the water. He stays a couple of paces behind, a little weary of the covered, massive head in front of him. "I thought I told you to go back to Hawkins." Eddie is a little at a loss for words. "I told you. You don't belong here."

'Again, ouch.'

"It is quite obvious you are not of this world."

Eddie sighs in response. 'You got that right'

"You lack the self preservation even a doe or babe would have. Your choice of robes seem to work against your already evident lack of skill… and you smell-"

"Excuse me!" He interrupts, quickly lifting his jacket to his nose, sniffing himself. "First off all, Ouch. I get it. I'm no teleporting warrior, but where I'm from, things like that," he points at the bag accusingly, "are not common." He pauses, "Second of all, I told you. I have no idea how I ended up here, and... I have no clue how to get back…" He finishes, his tone dropping a bit as he realizes how truly lost he is. As he and his strange companion fall into a thoughtful silence, his mind begins to run.

'What if I never find my way back? How does time even run here? What if I do get back and everything is different? What about Wayne? Will I ever see him again? God he will be so worried. I told him I'd make a point to call him every payphone I passed. He's going to go mental. What if there is no way back? What am I going to do? How are you going to get out of this one, Eddie? You're all by yourself this time.' Eddie is so lost in these thoughts, he doesn't even realize the previous fire he first met this stranger was coming into view. The warmth from the blazing fire was what brought him back to reality, or this reality.

He watches as the stranger walks to the other side of the fire, opposite of him, crouches down, and stuffs the clothed head into a large leather bag before tying it off. The hooded stranger stands, leaving the bag on the floor. "Sit," They say, gesturing to the log they were seated on earlier that night. "if you want." Eddie blankly follows instruction and takes a seat next to the fire on the edge of the log. A loud huff causes Eddie to nearly jump out of his skin. He whips around to find a huge horse a few feet behind him. He sighs, relieved it isn't another monster. A small, airy chuckle breaks the silence. "Do you not have draughts in Hawkins?" The stranger teases.

"Draught?" he asks in confusion.

"This is Rogue." The stranger says tenderly, gently stroking the animal's massive head.

"We call them horses." He replies, only to be followed with another short, breathy laugh from his savior. 

"Yes, that is what they're called. A draught is a working horse. A big horse, in lamest terms." The stranger breaks down. Eddie's face heats up a bit.

'Nice, now not only are you as skilled as fucking Bambi, you're also a dumbass.'

"Rogue is my most trustworthy friend. He's the best guy around." The stranger smirks, Rogue huffing and nodding his head up and down as if to agree with the statement. Eddie grins, amused at the horse's actions. "One moment." The stranger says abruptly, catching Eddie off guard a little. They make their way to the other side of Rogue and start rummaging in a sack. As they come around to the front side of Rogue, Eddie notices them carrying a stack of fabrics. "Here." They walk towards Eddie, placing the stack on the log next to him. "You are soaked to the bone after diving into that river. You'll find the weather is not very kind this time of year." Eddie shivers just as the sentence ends, as if on queue. "I would apologize if they are too small, but by the looks of it, you do not mind tighter garments." Eddie scoffs at the comment, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Just keep 'em comin'." He replies, earning an amused but confused head tilt from the stranger next to him. "Thank you." He stated gratefully, picking them up as he stands. 

"Not to worry, this hunt ended a bit sooner than expected, so I won't be needing the change of clothes. I should be the one expressing gratitude." the stranger takes a seat on a tree stump adjacent to the log. Eddie's nods, not wanting to ask any further questions until he was out of his wet clothes. He stands awkwardly for a second, trying to decide where to change. "Just on the other side of Rogue is a hanging cloth. You can change behind there." the stranger says as if reading his mind.

"Got it." Eddie nods, walking around the log and around the front of Rogue, nodding to him as if to give a Hello, Rogue softly huffing back in response. Eddie makes his way behind the hanging cloth and begins stripping off his sneakers and soaked pants with some difficulty. Feeling incredibly exposed, he hurriedly shuffles through the pile of clothes and slides on the new pair of pants. They fit about the same as the jeans he'd previously wore, but they were more comfortable and had more give than the stiff jean material.

Next was his shirt. The shirt the stranger gave him was a bit looser than the band t-shirt he came here with. It had longer sleeves with lacing at the neck. He mentally compared it to a pirate shirt but in black.

'Metal.' he thought to himself. He never owned something so fantasy-esque. He never felt so in character. He smiled to himself a little, imagining how cool he would look in his own variation of his saviors attire. 'Now is not the time, dipshit. Get back to the fire before you freeze your nuts off.' he interrupts his own mental tangent. 'You're right. Of course I am. Wait why the fuck am I talking to myself.' He shakes his head at his inner dialog, and makes his way back to the fire.

As he rounds Rogue to get back to the log, Eddie notices the stranger has taken off their boots and placed them just out of the fire's reach. They also moved the log a bit closer to the fire as well. They look up at Eddie as he walks toward them. "Lay your clothes there, so they can dry by morn." They state, pointing to the log with the stick they held. Eddie did as he was told, placing his shoes next to the strangers and laying his shirt and pants over the log. Just as he was going to lay his jacket down, his heart sunk.

“Shit.” The stranger looks up at a frantic Eddie as he rummages through his jacket pockets. On one side, he finds his van keys and wallet. As his hand pats the left side of his jacket, he sighs in relief feeling a hard box in the pocket. He fishes the contraption out of the pocket, throwing the jacket over the log haphazardly, next to his other clothes. His hooded companion glances between him and the unrecognizable item in his hands. “Please don’t be broken.” He begs the thing. It is relatively dry, so he has some hope. He presses a button on the side of it, putting it up to his ear. He lets out another sigh of relief as the stranger looks at him quizzically.

“What in the realms is that?” they say, grabbing Eddie’s attention.

“Music.” He answers matter-of-factly. The strangers face scrunches further.

“I am not sure our worlds have the same meaning for music.” Eddie grins, dropping his hand from his face.

“Here.” He goes over to the stranger, kneeling on the ground next to them. “This is called a walkman.” He holds up the small box. “Inside of it is a tape.” He pops the door open, causing the stranger to jump back a bit. This causes Eddie to chuckle. The stranger shifts their hard gaze to him, causing him to end his laughing short, covering it up with a cough. He tilts the box towards them a little to expose the tape inside. “The music is held inside the tape. You can change them out with different tapes for different songs.” He pops it back closed. “When you press these buttons, you can play, pause, fast forward, or rewind the music. These things attached to it are headphones.” He explains, stretching out the wire to unravel it. He places the headphones over his curls to demonstrate how you wear them. “This is where the music comes out from.” He takes the headphones off his head then clicks play. A muffled noise can be heard coming from the devices. He brings the headphones a little closer to his savior's face. The stranger leans in a little, hearing what sounds like a man singing and strange muffled whines they’ve never heard before. Their brows are drawn together.

“What kind of music is that?” They say, not quite understanding the instruments that can be heard.

“Rock music. This is a mixtape I made. This one in particular is one of the best bands ever. Black Sabbath. This song is from their Paranoid album. It came out over a decade ago, but I can’t seem to get tired of it. I have an original vinyl. It’s one of my greatest possessions. I actually swiped it from a record store when I was 11 as a birthday gift for myself. Cherished it ever since.” He rambles on, the stranger staring at him as if he’d grown an extra head. He notices the stare and stops talking. He pauses to take a breath. “Sorry… I know probably nothing I just said made any sense to you… I get a little passionate about music, and it’s exciting to introduce someone to my favorite bands.”

“Are you a bard of some kind?” They ask, curious about Eddie’s life in the land of Hawkins. Eddie chuckles, lighting up a bit.

“I guess you could say that. I’ve studied the art of guitar my whole life.” He says dramatically, lifting his head proudly, slipping into his DND fantasy character persona a little. The stranger looks at him curiously.

“Guitar?”

“Yeah, Uh, simplified, it's like a wooden box, with strings, that you strum to make music.” He stumbles to describe a guitar, holding his hands up to mimic himself strumming a guitar. 

“A lute?” Eddie snaps, pointing at the stranger, slightly startling them, but he doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in his explanation.

“Yeah! It’s like a lute, but mine uses, uh, like controlled lightning; we call it electricity. It is used to amplify the sound, and it also changes the sound a bit.” He rambles again, “But, yeah, it’s very similar.” The stranger nods, trying to wrap their head around the description.

“It is like a magical lute…” they reply. Eddie smiles a bit wider, liking their interpretation.

“Yeah, you could say that.” The stranger nods again, going back to tending the fire. Eddie stays there, kneeling on one knee, taking in each feature of his savior’s face, admiring how the soft light of the flickering flames dances across their skin. He notices their eyes are no longer glowing from within. They have now softened to their natural hue, reflecting the light from the flames.

“Do I have something on my face?” the stranger asks seriously, yet not changing their position at all, still poking the fire with the twig in their gloved hand. Eddie is knocked out of his trance. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he jumps to face the fire.

“No, no. I was just, um,” trying to find his words, he pauses then lets out a light, awkward laugh, “Are you some kind of monster hunter or…?” He switches topics. The stranger shortly laughs through their nose, amused by the question.

“Yes, something like that.” they respond vaguely. Eddie waits eagerly, waiting for his savior to expand on the concept. “You should rest.” the stranger cuts short. Eddie’s shoulders fall slightly. He was ready to get a full lore dump, akin to what his little sheep would do in Hellfire when they’d introduce a new character, but he had to remind himself that this, in fact, was not a roleplay. It was real. This is a real person with very real skills and a very real backstory.

‘Come on, dude. Chill out. You can’t really expect them to divulge into their whole backstory, right now. There is no telling how long you are going to be here. We got time… I think…’ Eddie sighs deeply, his eyes flutter at the dreaded thought.

The stranger stands, bringing Eddie out of his own head. He follows suit, standing slowly. He watches as the stranger goes over to Rogue and unlatches a buckle to release a thick roll. Eddie’s eyes follow as they make their way to the opposite of the fire as the log that held his clothes and starts to unravel the roll into a makeshift bed.

It’s about 3 inches thick with a sturdy linen exterior. They then go back to Rogue and lift off a large fur pelt, walking back around to the bedroll and laying the pelt out.

“Here.” The warrior states shortly, making their way back to the stump to sit and continue tending to the fire. Eddie stays standing in his place.

“Wait, that was for me? Where are you going to sleep?” He protests, eyeing his hooded companion.

“I will not sleep. I will keep watch. As you may now know, these woods,” they gesture to the bag that held the decapitated head, “are not very safe… though, a little safer now that I've rid it of its Alghoul problem.” They poked the fire a few times. “Hence, I prepared for a restless evening. I will be fine. Now rest.” They continued, shutting down any opposition before it started.

Eddie stared down at them, tempted to argue, but when a pair of stern eyes connected with his, a slight glow building from within, he instead made his way to the bed, sitting upright, facing the fire. The warrior side eyes him as he chooses to sit up instead of lay down. They shake their head a little as their gaze returns to the fire.

Eddie’s gaze stays fixed on the flames. A chill runs down his spine, just now feeling the effects of the cold night air licking the back of his dampened shirt.

Realizing the wetness of his hair was causing the issue, he takes the black scrunchie that was around his wrist, hidden under his sleeves, and pulls his hair up, tying it in a lazy bun to get it off his back. He then moves to grab the heavy pelt behind him, wrapping it around his shoulders. As he settles back into his cross-legged position, the silence, though comfortable, only allows room for his mind to wander.

Eddie's thoughts were filled with dread at first, so much so he didn't notice the soft humming coming from the stranger seated beside him. As soon as their humming started though, Eddie could feel his breathing slow, and subconsciously, he began to relax.

His mind began to silence, as if the voices in his head were getting farther away and eventually locked in another room, muffled. His eyelids began to fall and his body became more slumped. A couple seconds after his eyes completely shut, he could hear the faint sound of dirt shuffling just barely noticeable underneath the wood crackling fire. The humming began to get closer with each shuffle. He then felt the faint touch of two hands pushing on his shoulders, forcing him to lay. Drifting in and out of sleep, he feels his head hit the linen beneath him. The humming becomes more and more distant as his senses begin to leave him, slipping into a deep sleep accompanied by an angelic voice and the crackling of firewood.

-🦇-

I have no idea where I'm taking this but I just like this AU 😫 forgive me

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest @madelynraemunson

[woneuntonzz]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ reflections

📞 ; “maybe it's a blessing in disguise, i see my reflection in your eyes.”

𖹭 : sungchan x afab!reader

💭 love can be a possession, and like everything owned, it can be easily lost... “we were too close to the stars.”

⤷ contains: angst, pining, cussing, mentions of other idol names for

world building

⤷ warnings: none (?)

⤷ wc: 4.2k (not proofread :>)

🎧 a songfic, inspired by The Neighbourhood's Reflections

-ˋˏ under the cut .ᐟ ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Perfect does not exist, maybe that’s true for you, but I’ve seen perfection, I’ve felt perfection. The thought seems superficial, I know, but to be in my place —I’ve had to endure years of sorrow because of this said perfection. 

And perfection was in the form of Jung Sungchan. 

On the surface, it might take a few blinks for one to understand. But it wasn’t solely your visage that has led me to this wistful void. 

I loved to draw, just as much as I loved you, maybe a little less —but you get the point. You’ve been the subject of my illustrations, from the moment I saw you, till I couldn’t physically see you anymore. 

“Is that me?” I didn’t get why you’d still ask, of course it’s you, it’ll always be you. 

The outline of your profile provokes daydreams, oh how I wish I was the only one. When I saw you for the first time I instantly knew, everyone had their eyes on you, it was only a matter of time till the attraction came pouring in. 

Still, you stood your ground like everyone else, just trying to live your life, and everyday I wished I could be part of it. 

I draw the lines, and you paint it with colors, colors I had never seen before, colors that could’ve been the manifestation of your reciprocation. 

“Good morning, I’m Jung Sungchan, I was wondering if I’m in the right place, senior Kim sent me here to fetch the package from, Y/n?” you were quite unsure of my name, I’m pretty sure you had it written on the tiny piece of paper you held in between two of your fingers. 

“That’s me. Department?” I didn’t even know why I still asked, I knew well where you were situated. 

“Film.” I felt as if I was going to combust, I could’ve sworn I saw you held back a laugh, the slight hum of your bass voice almost had me stumbling back. “You?”

“Arts.” Now I almost laughed at myself.

But never did I think that our talk would last for a longer while. “Sophomore, right?”

I tried my best to exude a hum as a response, before asking you back why, “Why’d you ask?”

“I see you around a lot, but I just wasn’t sure if you were older or younger. I also confused you with someone else I knew multiple times before.” —someone else?

I was thinking maybe I should be more open to variety, to not wear the same hairstyle, similar set of clothes, and one color pallette everyday. Maybe then you wouldn’t confuse me for someone else. Maybe then you’d see me and think, that’s Y/n from the Arts Dep. She's really pretty.

“Who did you confuse me for? maybe I know who they are.”

“Actually…” actually what Sungchan? “She’s your friend.”

I don’t exactly have loads of friends, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Which one?”

“Minjeong.” 

I had no idea of what expression you had painted on my face with all the things you had just said, but Minjeong? to confuse me with her might be too remote from the reality I lived. And because I was talking to a guy, I remembered when she told me, “Can you believe it? I’m being pursued by a guy!” —I never thought that guy would be you. Why you? or rather, why not me?

It wasn’t hard to tell whether my assumptions are true or not, because the way you bit your lip after her name fell from your mouth, suppressing a smile I could only assume was one only she could elicit from you.

I was right. 

And I was in pain. I felt like nothing but an excuse for you to see her, always seeming to have packages to retrieve for your senior, and coming back to return things to me, then all I hear is she, she, she, Minjeong where, Minjeong when —I wanted to rid of my hearing, besides it already felt like bleeding to the point where clotted blood would just block my auditory. 

But my pain only leads to my deception. I hate that I had to smile through whatever you had to say, congratulate you even when you gushed about her smiling back at you, or talking to you all evening through messages. 

“That’s cute, happy there’s some progress.” I spoke through a pretentious smile. 

“Thank you Y/n, I really don’t think it’ll be possible if I hadn’t met you.”

Perfection is truly just anguish behind a polished glass case, and at that moment I faced you, I wished I hadn’t met you at all. 

My pain and deception, tomorrow I would keep the frame of your smile in my memories, and I just had to pick up a pencil. I’ve always loved to draw things, but through an artist’s honesty, I only draw the things I find beautiful, the things worth the graphite imprinted at the side of my hand. You were beauty and agony, and as much as I wanted to say I hated you, I loved you more than my best creations.

“You drew me? That’s really awesome, I don’t know how artists manage to create such images." Did you never think of how I did it? that maybe I stared at you for too long that I could draw you at every angle, with any expression —I had memorized every line on your face, the curve from the tip of your nose, to your philtrum, and to your lips. Whenever I drew your lips I would touch my own, feeling for its cushions whilst wondering how yours would feel. I reckon it must’ve been softer, more delicate, it always looked so velvet that for a while it was the only thing that occupied my mind. 

So shameful of me to be fantasizing about a guy my friend liked and a guy who liked my friend. But I loved you first, it could’ve been me. I always stuck around so that maybe one day you’d choose me. 

“She said yes!” —of course she would. 

Anyone in her place would, and anyone who wouldn’t would be lying to themselves. 

That smile you wore when you exclaimed so blissfully, it’s engraved in my mind, and then I knew I would never have that smile for myself. 

My mind is clouded, and my heart is aching and cracking, and whenever I felt it I just wished you could feel it too, just how much you’ve ruined my life. 

“Your work is honestly flawless, maybe Min could use some lessons from you.” your quip was followed by a playful hit on your shoulder, then a chorus of laughter.

“Yeah, Y/n is probably the best artist in our department, but I’m not that bad!” it hurt to watch you wrap an arm around her waist as her sweet voice so vexingly amplified in my ears.

You looked at me then, as if you were telling me to laugh. There was nothing for me to laugh at, it would be a pity to laugh at myself, and at what cost? Still, I had to force a smile, just for feeling sorry that I had let myself fall into your abyss. 

Avoiding you could’ve tended my wounds, but it wasn’t that easy when you were dating my friend. My friend who I had known longer than you, my friend who was a lot less selfish than me, who likely had thought about me more than I have with her. How could I when you were occupying a very gross space in my mind. I’m disgusting for still yearning for you, all when we had nothing, no foreground. You had never looked at me like you looked at her, I have never felt the skin underneath your ironed dress shirt, I have never felt the heat of your breath against my neck, and never have I felt your tender grip clasped around my hands. I was all desire and no fulfillment, and it had to be that way, not for your sake nor hers, but for mine. 

If I gave in, I wouldn’t be alive for you, her, and everyone looking down on me with ire. 

I would only grow to hate myself even more, I love you, but I could only see the antithesis of your motivations. 

“I owe you one too, Min and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.” and I didn’t even have a choice. 

I saw you to be a bit too brazen to continue to treat me like a friend, yet I never saw you as one of mine. 

“You don’t owe me one.” you owe me everything. 

“That’s not true, hey, how about this, I have a friend who wants to meet you, remember the drawing that I stole from you? Well, he saw it and he said he wanted to meet the artist.” you seemed so eager to push me away. 

“Oh really? Who's he?” to raise such a painful question, that day I truly was not myself.

You introduced me to a guy, and I could tell it took him great effort to be as expressive as you, not that he was aware that I had my eyes on you the whole time. It was no question that I would never see him the same way I did you, even if I tried, he isn’t Jung Sungchan, he isn’t you. 

“So, how’d you find Eunseok?” you asked me when you accompanied me back to my building. 

“He’s nice, but I’m not really looking for a date right now.” —I am only looking at you.

“Hmm, but try, yeah? maybe not date, but befriend him. Try to see him for who he is.” I chuckled at your careful pick of words, befriend, in what world did you think I was going to befriend a guy closely involved with you?

And for what? just so it would only be harder for me to escape myself? 

It’s already a torturous endeavor to keep up with your beaming face, walking up to me like an old friend you’ve been longing to see after some time. Friend, is all I’ll ever be. 

With the passing time, I figured, it was better than being nothing with you, right? I would rather have you just close enough, than not at all. I know it’s wrong for me to look at you that way, but it would only be me who knew, I’m sure. I see it in your eyes, how dismissive they are of the light that resides in mine, the light you ignited. You could so easily keep your eyes on me without a stagger, unlike me, fighting all my demons and being very easily lost in a reverie under your unsuspecting gaze. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that, right?” sadly it wasn’t your voice I would hear it from. 

“Eunseok, I already like someone else, I’ve told you.” 

“Yeah, I know that, and I know who. It was a compliment.” 

I had dared him to tell me who if he really knew, and he got it, slipped right off his tongue. Jung Sungchan, three syllables that provoked the fires of my hell. 

But was I really pretty? apparently, not pretty enough for you. 

“I mean, Eunseok wasn’t wrong, you are fairly pretty —but he did tell me you already like someone, do I know him?” you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you to shut up, to tell you that it’s you, I like you. 

“That’s easy to say isn't it?”

“What?”

“To call someone pretty, and it doesn’t even have to be true.” It’s true, isn’t it? It's so easy to leave those words without a second thought, because they're all words, and deceit is inevitable. Your face molded into a dumbfounded expression, and it scared me. I might’ve sounded my hatred with those few words and so I said, “I’m kidding, and you don’t have to know who I like. It’s none of your concern.” 

I tried masking my regret with jest, but it was all true, I am not your concern. You shouldn’t care, especially when I’m not the one your heart beats for. 

I was a witness of the highs and lows of your relationship, how both of you seemed to lack something in each other’s eyes. At that point, all I could do was look away. I was afraid, so I distanced myself. The blame, the misery, I had not shown intentions out of the ordinary, but my brain ached and quaked from the what ifs and hows, and the whens.

“Y/n? Are you avoiding me?” my breath hitched, and I halted my steps. 

“No?—”

“No? why are you saying it as if you’re asking me?” I gulped, your eyes weren’t as spirited as they’d usually be, and your voice was demanding an answer out of me. 

“No. I’m really busy with my workload, Sungchan.” 

I wanted to yell at you, I’m in love with you, you and the way you cared, just stop caring, how hard could it be? stop caring so I could finally step away without looking back, so you could live a placid life without my trouble.  

I never thought I’d witness you chase after her in our building for the last time, pretty cheek bruised red from a hit you took from her. Was it over? and was it your fault?

“We broke up.” to me, your words sounded tantalizing.

I had no idea what you expected me to do, or say, or react. “Why?” and I had no idea I shouldn’t have asked. 

“I don’t know if I’m being honest with myself.” I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing, and I wish that would be the end of it. “Minjeong is a great person, I know I’m not. I wished I could’ve spared her the time, and returned her love the same way she gave it to me, but she’s not the one. I fell out, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, your sorry stinging my mind. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

You looked down for a while, eyeing the textures of the granite flooring. And I caught it, a single tear dropping down and landing in between your feet. “She’s your friend.”

I looked away from your swollen eyes, allowing the breeze to softly glide over the wisps of my lashes as I desperately searched for anything to reply, “You’re my friend too.” It would only pain me more when you kept apologizing, mumbling through your sobs. “Sungchan, stop apologizing.”

I was bewildered with the continuous apology, and why you chose to be this restless with me. But I guess you got me, even if I was tired, drained to the very bottom, I was still willing to catch the tears that swelled from your eyes with my shoulders. 

Well of course, it was easy for others to see it as something else, and I had to remember I had a friend, a friend that wasn’t you. 

“Minjeong, please, let’s talk—”

“I don’t want to fucking talk Y/n, there’s nothing for us to talk about.” 

Did she think it was my fault? Was it my fault? Are there things I’m failing to see?

But I'm just a girl, Sungchan, I failed to push you away. I felt temporary, replaceable, but you needed someone by your side. 

“Eunseok and I aren’t on good terms right now. He found out the truth.” I searched for it through your glossed eyes. 

Was there, perhaps, some other truth? “Truth?”

“I don’t know what to do.” but I was in no place to tell you what to do either. 

You were dodging bullets, but at that moment I was too preoccupied with swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to lure myself out of your poise. 

I forgot what I had told you, but all I know is that I was seeing you more often than the times you used to retrieve packages for senior Kim, and senior Kim has been away for two years, graduated. Now we’re the seniors, a pair with a piteous reputation to those who have known us throughout our college years. 

“We should make a movie together, you know.” you seemed too enthusiastic for your own good, but still, I chuckled. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“I mean, like an animation since you can draw, and you seem great with storytelling.” 

Storytelling? never even gave it a thought. “Interesting. Let me think about it, I might just consider it.”

“Take your time.”

I never knew just how serious you were. I ended up taking my time too well, with you.

To look back at it, it isn’t too bad of a decision to create something I could look back on and carry for the rest of my life. You were my serendipity, it would only lead me to fall deeper, and I know how much it’ll hurt when it’s finally time for us to part. 

So I guess, thank you, and fuck you for being so good to me, for leaving scars that would only burn when you were no longer in my reach. Your touch was my kryptonite, and your voice was my reason to force myself out of slumber. I’m so in love with you, but my pride would not allow me to. 

A part of me still bathes in guilt. I lost friends for you, for a future I could only dream about. 

“Where are you off to after college?” I tried to calm my pounding heart from the way your hand toyed with mine. 

You spread out my fingers, your thumb softly rubbing against them, “Still thinking about our movie.”

Our movie, that’s funny. “How about a little life plan?”

“You go first, then I’ll tell you mine.”

What was the point, Sungchan? “I have two paths laid out for me, one’s for character design, and the other’s free-lance, you know it.” your fingers glide against the skin at the back of my hand, and in a blink the warmth of your palm spreads throughout my body as it rests on my skin. 

“My turn, right?” you really had to pose it as a question, tilting your head at me, so obviously expecting an answer. I could only, and very languidly nod for I was getting myself drunk with your burning touch. “You know, I really want to work closer with you, so any decision I make, you’d probably see me at work.”

Perfection is a fucking lie. 

Again I’d find myself slumping on my bed, thinking about how easy it was for you to run past me. Now you had all these opportunities waiting in line for you. 

“They want me to act, do you think I’m fit for it? Do you think I can do it?”

If it’s that easy for you to leave, “Of course you can.”

It would’ve been nice if you were more honest, cause for a while you were drawing an outline of possibilities, possibilities of you and I, and not just me, me, me.

Until seeing you was barely a chance, I continued to refuse seeing through your honeyed gaze, afterall, I chose to love you too much, because either way, I had no choice but to let you go. 

Now I sit alone, writing books about the love I never had. Such a pitiful soul I am. I was even oblivious of the many details of this story, because we never talked beyond the trivial things, never about how our eyes longed for each other, or how our hands found each other’s skin that would sear from the sensation, the friction. 

You had moved out of town. I couldn’t bring myself to meet you at the train station for, possibly, the last time. I could only wish you luck through a poorly composed text message, three sentences long. 

the lovers by rené magritte 💌

sorry i couldn’t meet you today, but i wish you all luck in the world. you deserve whatever you have going for you. i’m gonna miss you.

my robbie 🥀

thank you y/n

i have a feeling i’m gonna miss you more hahaha

I had to leave you on read. This time I choose to just not look back. 

And it was for the better. It sure hurts to see you on Tv, to see you deny your dating history, “I’ve dated before, but I’ve never dated ‘the one’, needless to say, I wish I could meet her right now.” —I’ve read all the articles about that interview, that very statement of yours. How fascinating. Acting truly was for you. I could no longer see where we met in your eyes. 

I wonder if you’ve read any of my books, if you had wondered if I ever did pursue a career where I could make use of my illustrative talents —it got me nowhere, but you were right, I can tell a heck of a story, and so I told the world hundreds of them. 

Your foreshadowing of my future was a big stain I had to carry, and hide as an author. But I would keep writing without breaking even in the slightest bit. 

Because I only loved you. I only wished, but never fully hoped, never really tried. 

╔══════════════╗

“Hmm, are you sure you want this published?” 

“I’m not gonna have it out as is, of course I have to build characters. I just wanted your thoughts. It would make for a good novel, right?” 

You sat face to face with your publisher, Song Eunseok, to ask for his thoughts on this draft you made six years ago. 

“It would —but you know, I’m quite surprised.” Eunseok wore a smirk on his face, one you couldn’t quite read through. 

“Really? surprised?” a low chuckle escapes his mouth, very subtly shaking his head.

He had briefly glanced on the floor beside him, and when he looked back, almost all emotions he displayed were erased. “It wasn’t hard to tell you liked Sungchan, I knew, Minjeong knew.”

“Minjeong knew?” you almost lost your breath, heart racing from the tone of his voice alone. 

“Well, not until she was convinced. She’s just as stupid as you were —I mean, no offense, you’re great, but you’re also quite self-absorbed. Take it with a grain of salt, but it’s the truth if you ask me.” you watched him pour himself a glass of whiskey, and he’d pour you one too knowing you’d need it. “They broke up because of you.”

He’d repeat the same motion, shaking his head and humming when the lines on your face started to show more. “Didn’t any of them tell you?”

“Tell me what, Eunseok?”

“Sungchan liked you too.” and there you would take your first sip of liquor. “You truly were too lost, weren’t you? you didn’t even notice the way he looked at you, and how he talked about you. Just a shame he didn’t tell you after the storm died down.”

The storm, their break up, the demise of your dignity. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know what he had in mind, why don’t you ask ‘your Robbie’.?” you rolled your eyes at his laughter that followed. “Cute nickname, where did ‘The Lovers by René Magritte’ come from?”

Pouring yourself more of the liquor, you’d softly laugh at yourself, looking back at that bitter memory. “I showed him my favorite artworks, ‘The Lovers’ happened to be one of them, and he said it’s so beautifully made, like me.”

“That sucks.”

“I know.”

You both laughed over your wretched past, how pathetic and wrong you were. You were glad you could now see through more than your own lens, it's a whole other journey to discover and open yourself up to empathy, and it felt like contentment to finally reach it.

“You received it, right?” 

You looked him right in the eyes, smiling as you asked back, “The wedding invitation?” he hummed and nodded as an answer, “Of course. It’s what led me to finding that draft.”

He hummed again, head propped on his hands as he caught sight of your gaze, “We should go together, maybe we can ask Sungchan if he’s okay with the story.”

“And maybe we can get him to act for it when it’s turned into a movie.” his laughter grew louder, making you lightly hit his shoulder. 

“Well, at least he could fulfill his wish of making a movie with you.”

“Oh shut up.”

He was quite… the experience. A love that was pure misery. If he wanted to, he would’ve, right? So does it truly matter if he likes you then? 

You looked again at your draft, ink at certain spots were smudged, you remember being all tears as you wrote. 

Sungchan was not your greatest love, but you’ve got to admit he’d led you to a place where your passion could only grow stronger. You could say that sometimes you missed the way he felt on your skin, but it would be just the memories itself, and not him, not anymore. 

Perfection does not exist, and you had to go through all that trouble to convince yourself that it was him. 

Who could blame you? you’ve never met anyone like him, and you never will again. 

End.

just something very short and sweet for u :)) short question, is this a happy ending or not?

[thelargefrye]

🗝️ with dad!Mingi please

(Also I love how your page is builded)

[ AN UNFORGETTABLE MEMORY MONTAGE ] — “thank you for staying by my side.”

pairing : mingi x f!reader genre : idol au, dad!ateez, fluff, slight angst warnings : allusion to postpartum depression

note : thank you so much!

mingi felt like he was going to cry at any moment now. he didn’t want to move, taking in the image of you and moongyu sitting with each other in front of your drawing tablet. mimi curled up next you as you say in the floor where mingi usually finds you working.

mingi knew how hard you struggled with your mental health before and after giving birth to moongyu. mingi did his best to support you in any way he could, and despite you never being the best at expressing your emotions, he knew you appreciated him. he knew you loved him and he knew you loved moongyu.

it just took you time to show it and mingi was prepared to watch until you felt comfortable enough again.

and right now mingi felt like you were getting closer and closer to that moment.

“ma…ma!” moongyu said clapping his hands together as he laughed at most likely nothing.

“what is it, gyu?” you ask looking down at your one year old who looked up at you and giggled.

mingi noted how the two of you looked more alike now than in any other instance. he’s used to hearing how similar moongyu looks to him, but mingi is convinced he has more of your features than him, people just aren’t you to seeing you and moongyu side by side.

mingi watched with a smile at how moongyu clapped again before reaching over to pet mimi’s tail. the cat lifted her head up to look at the baby before she got up and stretched. she then wandered over to where mingi was standing and moongyu’s eyes followed the cat before his eyes landed on the rapper.

“papa! papa!” moongyu says excitedly, clapping as he smiles to his father.

you look at your son before following his eyes to see mingi standing at the entrance of the living room. he gives you a smile that you return before he makes his way over to you.

he sits down next to you, and gently takes moongyu from your arms as the boy was happily reaching over for his father. “hi, moonie, have you been good for mama?”

“of course he has,” you say not looking at him as you focus back on your panel in front of you. “he’s probably the most well-behaved baby in the world,” you add and mingi can tell you’re smiling.

“he only does that because he loves you so much,” mingi says as he begins to play with moongyu’s legs, holding them up and doing kicks. this action earns a laugh from the one year old.

however mingi’s eyes linger on you and how you seemingly stiffen a little and he wonders if maybe he’s crossed a line. were you not ready to say it? was mingi accidentally forcing you to move too fast.

“i’m glad he does,” you begin softly, still not looking at him, “because i love him as well.”

“y/n…?”

“and i love you as well,” you say as you finally turn to look at your husband with tears running down your face.

“oh y/n,” he says pulling you towards him as he holds you and moongyu close to him.

“i’m sorry i’ve been a terrible wife and mom. you both deserve so much better than me.”

“no, no, don’t ever say that. me and moongyu… we couldn’t ask for someone better because there is no one better. we’ll wait for however long it takes until you feel better.”

“mingi,” you say wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face in his chest. “thank you for staying by my side.”

send an emoji + a member for a walk down memory lane.

[hrts4soyeon]

Back To You

Yunjin x fem!reader 

Genre: angst, idol!au

Warnings: angst, violence(?), yelling, toxic relationship, cursing

summary: no matter how much Yunjin hurt you you couldn't ever seem to let go of her. Will you ever draw a line or will you continue to go back to her?

Word count: 7,050

a/n: this is my first time writing something other than an essay and I’m not the best in english class so if there are any spelling or grammatical errors pls ignore it i tried my best😕

i know you say you know me know me well

Jennifer huh, you had known her since 1st grade. She was a year older but you were put in a combined class with 2nd graders. You had been sitting to the side isolating yourself while everyone ate together and talked, you had always kept to yourself. This fascinated her. Jennifer was known as the popular girl who was friends with everyone. Everyone loved her because although she was popular it never seemed to change her personality. She remained the nicest person in class, always helping the teachers and students out. You weren't a bad kid either, quite the opposite actually. You took smartness to a whole new level, that was the reason you were in the mixed class, you were amongst the smartest 1st graders

You weren't hard to look at either. In fact by 3rd grade you already had admirers, but by 4th grade all of them had disappeared. Whenever one of the boys would try to talk to you you’d turn red due to your stuttering and before even 3 words were out your mouth you'd run away. 

Jennifer took interest in you, despite the fact that you constantly strayed from her. Most people would just take the hint and leave but she was persistent. This seemed very strange to you as no one ever tried this hard. You did want to be her friend but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to even respond to her. 

By 4th grade you and Jennifer were inseparable, you two did everything together. All her persistence really did pay off in the end because by 8th grade it was her who was trying to run away from you. Of course she still loved you more than anyone but you could be overbearing at times and with her short temper things often didn't end well.

“GOD WHY CAN'T YOU GO FIND SOME OTHER FRIENDS AT SCHOOL! YOU KEEP CLINGING TO ME AND IT'S ANNOYING I CAN LITERALLY NEVER CATCH A BREAK FROM YOU!” 

‘She doesn't mean it, she doesn't mean it’ is what you'd repeat to yourself whenever these situations arrived. You'd been friends with her since before her temper was so out of control and you knew her, the real her. She said a lot of things out of anger and you knew that. She had brought this topic up before a bit more calmly and so you knew her blowing up was your doing.

“I'm sorry, I'll try to change and get more friends to stop annoying you.” you said trying to keep your voice from wavering even more than it had been. But as soon as she processed the small waver in your voice her whole demeanor shifted, you could see her physically melt. 

“I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have blown up at you like that, but you know how I get mad easily and if you had just listened to me none of this would've happened. I'm just stressed out and I hope you can forgive me, I'll try to be better and control my anger.”

“nono don’t apologize, I'm sorry I should've just listened and I will, I'll try to give you space at school.” After this left your mouth she walked up to you and hugged you.

but these days i don't even know myself (no) i always thought i'd be with someone else i thought i would own the way i felt (yeah)

“y/n, wanna come to my home after school?”

“I have a lot of homework and I have plans with mina…..” just as you were about to decline you saw her looking at you with that look, the look you could never deny.

“-but i think i could move the plans with mina to tomorrow.” at the sound of you relenting she started squealing and hugging you. 

“Meet me after 7th period and we can walk home together.” she said with a wink as she walked to her next class.

Mina Myoui, she was a year older than you just like Jennifer meaning you two didn’t share the same classes. You two shared only one class which was math. You were both also very introverted so it took a while for this friendship to blossom but once it did you were so glad Jennifer told you to find new friends. 

You stopped clinging to Jennifer as much and spent a lot more time with Mina, and found you two were very similar. You even thought you were developing a crush on her, she was just so perfect. She never got mad at you and was always calm, she loved to listen to you and your problems and to top it all off she was definitely one of the prettiest people you had come across. She had such delicate yet elegant features. She had definitely been a queen in her past life.

You wanted to tell Jennifer about this little (almost?) crush on Mina but knowing Jennifer she would probably be fuming with the thought that you’d replaced her. On top of being easily pissed off, Jennifer Huh was also a person with a lot of jealousy in her and you didn't want to do anything to upset her. 

The more you hung out with Mina the more you realized that maybe this wasn't a crush, you felt almost the same way towards Mina as you did to Jennifer. Jennifer was your bestest friend. You couldn't like her right? That would be weird, you guys had known each other since you were in 1st. You guys were basically siblings, right? The more you thought about it the more you felt sick by the thought that Jennifer saw you as just a sister.

School had ended and you were both in Jennifer's room sitting on her bed when she suddenly said ‘we need to talk’ . This took you by surprise as you didn't think you had done anything to upset her this past week, you were very nervous. Her whole demeanor changed, she sat up straight and had a serious look on her face.

“Okay uhm, I've been thinking about doing this for a while now but i haven't had the courage to actually confront you and say something about it. I uhh ever since I saw you in first grade I always thought that you were different from the rest of the students, you stayed to yourself and you uhm even when guys would talk to you or confess to you, you would always run away and you never really let anyone in. i think i was pretty determined and i eventually got you to open up and now i have you forever, and even though i can be such a shitty person and friend at times you never leave me. You could have ditched me so many times and I bet others would too, hell I would leave myself, but you never left me. You’re like the best person I know and I don't know what I'd do without you — anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I love and appreciate you so much but I don't want to be your friend anymore, I can't be.” as soon as you heard her last sentence your heart dropped in your chest and tears started welling up in your eyes, your smile now a deep frown. This couldn't be happening, Jennifer was your whole world.

“Y-y-you d-don't wanna be my f-friend any m-more?” you stuttered out the tears in your eyes almost falling as you will yourself to hold them back, but alas one single tear drop fell. With the fall of that one tear drop it was as if a dam had broken, all the tears you had tried to hold back were coming down nonstop.

Jennifer immediately reached out and wiped you tears with her thumb as she took a hold of your face. 

“No, I don't wanna be your friend, I wanna be more. I love you, but not in the way I'm supposed to, I love you as in I wanna hold and kiss you, I wanna introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend. I don't want you to like, love, or hold anyone but me, I want all your friends to know that you belong to me and I belong to you. What do you say, be my girlfriend?” hearing this you started sobbing even harder while nodding your head. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dreamt of THE Jennifer huh, the most popular girl in your school to want you. Maybe she didn't see you as a sister after all, maybe you didn't see her as one either

Seeing you nod, Jennifer pulled your face to hers and crashed your lips together. This was all she had wanted for as long as she could remember. You tried your best to respond to her kiss but you honestly had no idea on what to do, you had never kissed anyone before. Jennifer being the most popular girl, had been in relationships so she obviously had experience.

She pulled away laughing at the fact that you couldn't respond to the kiss

“whattt, you know I've never been in a relationship nor kissed anyone.” you said whining

She chuckled and responded by saying that she’d teach you how to kiss and that you would never kiss lips that were not hers. You spent the rest of the time in her room just kissing and her demonstrating and telling you what to do.

Dating Jennifer sent you through a whirlwind of emotions. You were confused, confused about what you felt towards Mina and how that differentiated from your feelings towards Jennifer. You loved Jennifer, you really did but that left you with questions about your feelings for mina. You thought what you felt with Mina might've been a bit stronger than what you felt for Jennifer, but you couldn't risk losing them both, you weren’t sure about your feelings for Mina, not even sure if they’d be reciprocated but Jennifer was there. She loved you, you loved her, and you loved Jennifer too much to let her go, too much to put your own feelings before hers. Telling yourself that Mina was nothing more than a friend you found yourself slowly believing that. 

You couldn't tell whether you were happy or disappointed as Mina's expression did not change when you told her you were dating Jennifer. For the most part she seemed happy for you and you tried to tell yourself that you were even happier with that. 

It was a new school year, mina and Jennifer were now seniors and you a Junior. As much as you tried to tell yourself you didn't like her, your feelings for Mina were not going away as fast as they should have been and you were starting to get worried. You tried to distance yourself from Mina and told yourself it would benefit yours and Jennifer's relationship. 

Your mentality that this was the right thing came crashing down when you saw mina’s face as you bailed on her for the 2nd time that week. Telling her you had too much homework and couldn't hang out with her. The way her face fell hurt your heart and within the minute of you two  just standing there in silence you realized how selfish you had been, only thinking of your own feelings and not minas. You’d never felt more shitty, you couldn't stand seeing anyone else sad at the doings of your own especially not Mina. You immediately took back what you said and asked her if you guys could first go to your home first to finish a bit of homework before going out. 

The way her face lit up when all you had done was go through with your plans made your heart crumble. You promised yourself you'd never be the cause of a sad expression on her face again. 

The more you hung out with Mina the more you realized maybe this was the right way to get over your feelings for her. You both would talk about Jennifer and it made you realize how much you loved her and never wanted to lose her. Mina was ecstatic at seeing her best friend so happy with another. You found your mind leaving Mina and focusing on Jennifer. You questioned yourself and wondered how you ever doubted your feelings for jennifer.

I call you but you never even answer  i tell myself i'm done with wicked games

Huh Yunjin, her Korean name. Seeing as she was in Korea it only made sense for her to go by it  now. Both you and Yunjin had moved to Korea a while back, pursuing a life of fame. She was now a trainee at HYBE while you were at JYP. The original plan was for you two to enter the same company but fate had other plans. The day Yunjin was accepted into HYBE you were accepted into JYP. You both had applied to a lot of agencies and been accepted but these were the first BIG companies to reach out to you. Taking into account that you’d see Mina more often you accepted the fact that HYBE didn't accept you and chose to join JYP. 

“This is the second time you’ve called her within the 30 minutes you’ve been here, just accept that she's not picking up.'' Mina said with a groan as you put your phone down. 

“She never answers, I know she’s probably overwhelmed with work right now seeing as she's set to debut in a month but I wish she could at least send me a text.” 

“But aren't you set to debut in 2 months, just barely a month after her?” Mina responded making you think about it. But it was different, her debut was closer to happening than yours. You knew of her dream to be famous and you shared that dream with her, if she wanted to be an idol she had to prioritize that over everything, right? You understood that and so that's what you said to mina. 

“She's gonna debut sooner though and I can't be her top priority, her job has to be.” after processing what you had just said minas head snapped towards you looking at you like you had gone mad. 

“I'M an idol y/n i've been an idol for years and trust me when i say that's not an excuse, don't you remember when you were still in New York and i was in Korea? Although I was an idol I still made time for you. Look at yourself, you're in the same position as her yet here you are clearly prioritizing her.” you didn't know what to say in response to this, you wanted to deny it to say that you've matured, that you didn't let Yunjin walk over you anymore but even you knew that was a lie. 

“Okay okay, I'll talk to her after things are less stressful for her and I'll make sure that she sees me as a priority, and I'll make sure she sticks to her word.”

But then i get so numb with all the laughter  that i forget about the pain

You were currently in Yunjins dorm which she shared with Eunchae and Chaewon. You all were in the kitchen eating, you found yourself coming here often after their debut. You had come to talk to her about her recent behavior, how she promised she would change but hadn’t at all. You got caught up with everything else though and the thought to tell her completely slipped your mind. 

“So y/n how does it feel to have your official debut in a couple of weeks?” Chaewon asked

“Honestly it feels unreal. I still can't believe it's gonna happen, I'm so excited.” you responded, a huge grin on your face at the thought that your name would be out there in a couple of weeks.

“Okay now for the good stuff, who's your favorite member?” Eunchae asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“They're all my favorite butttt haewonnie, and only ‘cause we’re closer.” you responded. You loved them all but if you were being honest it was definitely Haewon. They all gasped at the revelation. You noticed Yunjin looking at you a bit weird but you brushed it off saying it was nothing. 

“Okay, okay but who’s your favorite le sserafim member?” Chaewon asked, all three of them looked at you expectantly 

“Hmmm, if I had to choose Kazuha.” You said her name really fast, almost slurring it but they all had caught it and saw the grin growing on your face. 

“I'M TELLING KAZUHA UNNIE THIS!” Eunchae shouted as she pulled out her phone to text this to Kazuha. 

“We’re over, I can’t date someone who prefers my member over me.” Yunjin said in faux disappointment, acting as if she would start crying. 

You got up, walked around the island and went to hug her while saying sorry and that you loved her more while laughing. 

“Okay but you don’t count because my love for you is indescribable and if I were to bring you into it then none of your members would even have a chance.” She seemed to be satisfied by this and grabbed your face to plant a soft sweet kiss on your lips 

“EWWW THERE'S A KID HERE!” Eunchae said, screaming while covering her eyes. 

Chaewon on the other hand was awwwing at how cute you too were while you had your face flushed red and hidden in Yunjin's chest. You and Yunjin had been dating for years yet you still had the same red face every time she initiated physical contact. 

(Woah)You stress me out, you kill me, you drag me down, you fuck me up we're on the ground, we're screamin' i dont know how to make it stop i love it, i hate it, and i can't take it but i keep on comin' back to you

“God, you’re so possessive. get over it! I can have friends other than you, you’re always trying to dictate my relationships and I’m SO over it!” She yelled at you, and you whimpered at her harsh words

Your lips slowly formed a pout feeling your lips wobbling, a telltale sign you were gonna start crying. Usually the sight of you crying would calm Yunjin down but it didn’t this time, it only infuriated her more. 

“Oh my god, no way you’re gonna start crying now.” She said in disbelief as you tried to hold back your tears to prove her wrong.

“I'm sorry for actually feeling emotions, unlike you. Am i not allowed to be upset when i see millions of people shipping you, MY girlfriend with another. And it's not like you do anything to beat the dating allegations. Pulling her onto your lap calling her pet names you should be using on ME!” you said panting as you had screamed all that out. 

You thought that maybe getting all that out she’d understand at least a little of how you were feeling. You saying all that though was a huge mistake, it only made her even more mad, you only realized your mistake when you saw her mouth open and the look on her face of complete rage.

“Ohh so now this is my fault? My fault for being comfortable with my friends? Have you ever seen me comment on your relationship with Mina? You're basically dating her with how close you two are, you call her every name in the book, you literally call her your soulmate. Have I ever said anything about that? No, because unlike you I was happy when you finally found a friend that wasn't me and I encouraged your friendship with her if anything. Stop acting as if you own me, you're genuinely such a shitty person, what the hell do you want from me? For me to completely isolate myself from all the girls? As my girlfriend you should be happy for me, that i have such good friends in my group but nooo. This is what I get? I can really see where your priorities are.” if you weren't crying before you were definitely sobbing by now.

You were always a sensitive person and hearing all this coming from her made you wanna bury yourself in a hole. You never felt more selfish and it made you so mad at yourself for only thinking of your feelings. You understood where she was coming from and all you could think of was how to make this up to her. 

You knew you could counter her points easily as you and mina still had boundaries and she knew about how you ignored mina for the first few weeks of you two dating. It was because you were unsure of your feelings towards Mina but that wasn't the only reason. You saw that Yunjin was getting jealous with the thought that you cared more about Mina as more than a friend. This was also a major reason as to why you distanced yourself from Mina. 

You also talked to her about it, you asked her if she was comfortable and fine with you and mina being friends. After that conversation she never doubted your relationship with mina. You could also bring up the fact that you and Mina shut down ANY idea of you two dating when your friendship was first discovered by the public. You had always made it known how good of a friend  Mina was. You and Mina were known as nothing more than friends. 

But alas, you didn't want to fight anymore, you just wanted this to stop. You loved her and she loved you and as her lover causing these problems shouldn't be a thing you should do.

“I'm sorry babe, you're right I was being unreasonable and you are allowed to have friends, i don't want you to think you aren't. I just really don't want to fight anymore. Can we please just go to sleep? I love you and I don't like fighting with you.” you said sniffling and wiping your tears as you walked towards her wanting a hug. 

You could tell by the way she wrapped her arms around you she didn't want to, but seeing you crying and looking to her for comfort for the tears she caused made her happy. She was happy that she was the one you found comfort in no matter the reason, but it did not overlook the fact that she was still MAD. you were aware of this fact yet you didn't let it phase you as you held onto her shirt tighter burying your face in her chest as you gripped her shirt in your fists.

Yunjin wanted so badly to embrace you tighter but she couldn't, she wouldn't. You needed to know that you couldn't just pull this shit then expect it all to go away as soon as you cry. It hurt her to hurt you like this but your words really made her mad and the more she thought of your guyses fight the more her sympathy for you left. 

She wouldn't leave you alone crying though, as mad as she was at you she wasn't heartless and she still cared for you a lot. She picked you up bridal style and carried you to your room, your face still buried in her shirt and you hiccuped in between your sobs. She laid you down slowly and as soon as her back hit the bed you snuggled up against her and soon enough you fell asleep. When your members came back to the dorm they awwed at the sight of you two snuggled up together and took pictures of it not knowing about the fight that transpired leading up to it. 

The next morning when you awoke she was gone, all she left behind was a small note saying to text her when you weren't as selfish and didn't think you could dictate her relationships. You silently sobbed as you read the note knowing you couldn't cry too loud or else your members would hear and they would worry for you.

You didn't want anyone to see Yunjin in a bad light, especially not your members. That morning Yunjin’s phone was blown up with messages from you telling her how sorry you were and that you would never ‘dictate’ her relationships again, and begging her to respond(she didn't). 

I know my friends they give me bad advice, like move on get you out my mind, but don't you think i haven't even tried you got me cornered and my hands are tied

It had been a whole two weeks since Yunjin had unofficially ended things with you, you hadnt left bed other than to go to mina’s dorm and lay in her bed. The only thing that kept you going was the thought that she hadn’t fully ended things. 

“Dude, just stop thinking of her, it's that simple. If you don't think of her you won't remember what happened and you won't be depressed. Also when will you tell your members about the break up?” Mina said from right next to you as you were both lying in her bed. 

“Ughhh it's really not as easy as you say, you've been there since we started dating. Of all people you should get that, and it's not like I wanna be hung up on her, and it’s not an official break up, just a break. Shes doing this for the stupidest fucking reason too, Like maybe if it was something serious but this!? This is literal bullshit.” you said your arms flailing around trying to get your disbelief at this whole situation out. 

“Babe you and I both know you definitely don't wanna get over her with those daily messages and I think I know the reason you haven't told your members. I just wanna hear you say it so you can hear for yourself how badly you still want her.”

“Okay, maybe I don't wanna get over her, but is that so unexpected? We've been together for years. I love her more than anyone, and yes i haven't told the members because if she does accept my apologies and does take me back then i don't want them to see her in a bad light. I don't wanna give them a reason to dislike her because I know they'll hold it against her by seeing how badly the ‘breakup’ affected me.” you replied looking down at the fingers you were fiddling with.

Even mina didn't know the full truth, she obviously knew most of it but not all of it, always the one to protect Yunjin you were. She obviously knew about how bad Yunjin’s anger issues were, that was common knowledge. You had told her about the fight but left out the parts that you could've said to counter Yunjins statement. 

She didn't think either of you were wrong, although she obviously favored you as you were her best friend. She wanted to hate Yunjin for doing this to you and making you so sad but she couldn't. Not with knowing how much the girl loved you. She knew this would pass, no way you two could stay away from each other.

You got me so addicted to the drama i tell myself i'm done with wicked games but then i get so numb with all the laughter that i forget about the pain

Minas' predictions turned out to be true, the next day Yunjin messaged you back. You were ecstatic, she had asked to meet up with you to talk and you obviously agreed. 

“I'm so sorry Jen, I was really wrong and I don't think I can bear to lose you. You're the love of my life, the only person I'll ever love, please take me back.” you said all in one breath looking at her intently.

“Nono, I'm sorry,I was such a dick. I promise you I'll never do ‘this’ again or even hurt you again. This break made me realize how much I needed you and how much I can't live without you. I love you so much, so please, will you take me back?” she asked with uncertainty as she stared at you, you felt the same way you felt back in her room all those years ago when she confessed to you, and she looked the same. 

Your reply was obviously a yes, a big yes. You jumped on her and squeezed her as tight as you could while crying. You were so happy, this was WAY more than what you expected, she had actually reflected on her actions and apologized. You were over the moon.

And I guess you’ll never know  all the bullshit that you put me through and i guess you'll never know, no

Breaking news: LE SSERAFIM’s Huh Yunjin seen out with aespas Ningning! Both of them getting a little closer than usual friends, if the angles were better god knows what we’d have seen.

What. The. Fuck. Those were your only thoughts as you read through the article then saw the pictures below. You couldn’t tell because of the angle but it definitely looked like they were kissing. You didn’t know how to feel, your members burst into your room looking at you worriedly. By the look on your face they could tell you had seen the news. 

Everything was hazy, you just asked Haewon to drive you to Minas place and she obliged seeing the state you were in. You were completely silent the whole way there, the whole car was silent except the faint sound from the outside of the car. It was like you had turned off your emotions, but as soon as you saw Mina waiting there on the sidewalk for you you burst out into tears

Mina knew you’d come to her after reading the news of what happened and so she sat there waiting at the gate of her apartment building. As soon as you stepped out of the car she saw that you burst into tears. She ran up and to your side to hug you and lead you into her apartment.

You knew that many other people lived in this building and that they could all see you sobbing into Mina’s shirt but you didn’t let that phase you. Other opinions on you were the last thing on your mind. 

“I’m going to beat the fucking shit outta her.” Those were the first words to leave Mina's mouth once you entered her flat. 

She was pacing around the room, her hands running through her hair, you didn't think you'd ever seen her more mad. Mina was always the calm one, the one who never let anything get to her. This time Mina was livid, she was so done with Yunjin pulling this type of stupid shit and you forgiving her,

You wanted to say something, scream even, but you couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Whenever you started crying really hard, the sobs would always be followed up with hiccups and because of this you couldn’t seem to speak. 

“I…” you felt so frustrated, you wanted to speak, tell her how mad you were but you couldn't seem to get it out.

Seeing this Mina sat down next to you, her anger seeming to dissolve at the sight of you, she wrapped her arms around you and didnt say anything. She just sat there with you, Mina had known you since you were in 8th grade, she knew how to calm you down. 

After a while of crying you calmed down a bit. The small things Mina had been whispering to you had helped a lot and you finally felt like you could speak.

“I-I can't believe she would do this, I can't believe she would throw everything away like this— am I not good enough? Where did I go wrong?” you sobbed out into Minas shirt.

Minas heart broke seeing your state of distress, she had never been more mad. She wanted to kill Yunjin at that very moment, you deserved so much better than that cheating bitch. She wanted desperately to say this to you but she knew it wouldn't do you any good so she kept these feelings to herself.  

NMIXX’s l/n y/n seen crying at TWICE’s Mina’s apartment building with Mina comforting her just 20 minutes after Huh Yunjin was seen with Ningning. Could there be a connection between these two idols? We’re aware of Yunjin and y/n’s friendship but could it be something more?

Comments:

Anonymous: omg i was there when y/n arrived at the building, mina ran to her side and guided her all the way up. Poor y/n she's so lucky to have a good friend like mina but istg if huh yunjin had anything to do with this ill hunt her down. 

Anonymous: this is what ive been saying!!! y/n and yunjin are wayyy too close to be normal friends. Huh yunjin sucks ass, she cheated on my girl y/n and god knows what else shes done. 

Anonymous: y/n come be with me, id never cheat on you or put you through what yunjin does. God knows how yunjin even pulled y/n, y/n is like an angel and to cheat on her is actually insane. Who in their right mind would cheat on THE l/n y/n!

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was the only word going through Yunjins mind, how could she have been so careless and gotten caught? As she read the comments on the article she felt even worse than before, y/n gave her everything she needed. Why did she have to be so dumb? Why had she gone out and ruined everything? 

As soon as Yunjin arrived at her dorm she mentally prepared herself for what her members were gonna say. She took a deep breath, unlocked the door and entered. She found all of her members sitting on the couch in her living room in silence as she walked in and headed towards them. Kazuha had to be physically restrained by Chaewon so as to not hurt Yunjin right then and there. She was the closest out of the members to you and she wanted nothing more than to deck Yunjin in the face. 

“Why, why would you do that to her? She's literally the girlfriend ANYONE would kill for, she's perfect, she could easily bag anyone in this industry yet she chose you. Why would you do this to her?” Chaewon asked Yunjin in a calm tone which surprised Yunjin, she looked like she'd explode any minute. Her face was red and Yunjin could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears.

“I don't know, I don't know, I don't know why I did it, I wish I didn't. I really wish I could take it back.” Yunjin said, her hand running through her hair as she stood in front of everyone.

“You only wish you could take it back because you were caught, if this wasn't released i bet you wouldn't regret it, hell I bet you’d do it again.” Kazuha said and Yunjin could hear the anger seeping into her voice. 

Yunjin couldn't say anything to retort that because she honestly didn't know if she would. she wanted to say she wouldn't that she regretted it because she loved you but was that really the truth?

(yeah) so you can cut me up and kiss me harder you can be the pill to ease the pain 'cause i know i'm addicted your drama baby here we go again

“Baby please, just listen to me, please just give me a chance to explain.” Yunjin begged as she stood at Mina's door, Mina had made the mistake of opening it not knowing who was at the door and now Yunjin wouldn't leave. 

“Get the fuck out.” Mina said through gritted teeth, she had balled her fists up, and was trying her best not to hit Yunjin. She swore if she didn't leave in the next 5 minutes she wouldn't hold back anymore, for the sake of you though, she endured 5 minutes.

“Please just let me talk to her.” Yunjin begged as she tried to look over Mina's shoulders to get a look at you but Mina had completely blocked any views inside. 

“I swear to god if you don't leave right now…'' Mina said, again trying to get Yunjin to leave but for obvious reasons Yunjin hadn't given up and Mina had counted 5 minutes. 

Mina had never been a violent person, nor someone to get angry easily but Yunjin was really getting on her nerves and her not leaving pissed her off even more. The next action Mina took came as a big surprise to Yunjin because she would have expected this from anyone but mina. Mina had decked Yunjin square in the face. 

Mina had not held back AT ALL on this punch as it sent Yunjin to the ground with a bleeding nose and a cut on her lip caused by Mina’s ring. She held her face in her hands as she looked at Mina dumbfounded. She got up but she didn't attempt to hit Mina in return. She knew this was of her own doing and Mina was not to blame for being a good friend. 

Hearing a loud thump on the ground, you ran out of Mina's room and to the door to see Yunjin with blood dripping from her mouth and nose. You held your hand over your mouth in a gasp as you looked at Mina. She simply shrugged and said ‘she had it coming’ you brushed past Mina and out the door to Yunjin.

“Mina I'm gonna go with her now, if she's this determined to talk to me then I guess i have to talk to her. You kissed Mina on the cheek and hugged her as you whispered ‘i'll be fine’ in her ear. This didn't help calm down Mina's worries though. 

“Anything happens you call me, alright?” you nodded in response to this as you left with Yunjin letting her wrap her arm around your waist.(only because she was hurt right?)

As you two reached the ground level of the building you realized that you two would most likely be seen by paparazzi. They would see her bloodied face, as you were gonna start worrying about that you felt Yunjin come to a stop, you were in front of her car.

“I'm driving.” you said with no room for arguing, hearing your tone she simply handed you the car keys as she got in the passenger's seat. 

The car ride to her dorm was relatively silent, you figured you were gonna go there, seeing as if you were to take her to your dorm she’d definitely leave with a couple of broken bones. Yunjin was on her phone to text into the le sserafim group chat to tell them to leave because she was bringing you there. 

While waiting in the elevator to reach the floor in which her dorm resided you were scrolling on your phone and you saw your earlier suspicions confirmed. There was an article written on how Yunjin had left your dorm with blood on her face and holding you. You almost laughed at how fast they were to write these articles. 

You still couldn't believe this was happening, everything was happening so fast you almost didn't process it, this felt like a dream. A really really bad dream, you even pinched yourself in case this was a dream. If this was a dream it would definitely be the worst one you've had. 

When you two entered her dorm it was completely empty, she led you to her room and motioned you to sit down next to her on her bed. As much as you hated her at this moment you didn't want to leave her with blood on her face as you talked to her so without saying anything you went to enter the bathroom that was connected to her room. 

You practically lived here, even having a toothbrush left here so you knew where everything was. You looked in the drawer that had all the first aid stuff and pulled out the first aid kit. You sat down facing her on the bed and she turned her body to face you too. You took her face in your hand as you picked up an alcohol pad and gently wiped the blood off of her cut lip. 

Usually this would hurt but even when you were kids, Yunjin never made a big deal when she was hurt. She was always strong, especially when it came to getting hurt. As a kid you admired her for this, you always thought she was really cool for keeping a smile on her face when the teachers would put alcohol on her injuries. 

You would always call her your strong girl, she loved that nickname and you loved her. But would she even be your girl anymore? The thought that she wouldn't be made you want to lock yourself in a room and never leave. She was the only person you would ever love. if it wasn't her you wouldn't love anyone else, you only wanted her. But did she even want you?

You didn't notice when you started crying, you only realized it when you felt her soft hand caress your face. She slowly wiped your tears and when you realized you were crying you started crying even harder. 

“Why? Why did you have to like someone else? Where did i go wrong, i only ever loved you and i'll only ever love you. Please don't leave me, you're all I have, I swear I'll be a better girlfriend. I swear I'll make you love me more.” you begged in between sobs, you told yourself you wouldn't go back, you couldn't.

But you couldn't help it, you would always go back to her.

[lilpunkrock]

Hey, its me again, the angst anon! I just wanted to take advantage of the Halloween vibe to leave this in the imagination: show up in a big bad wolf costume and try to convince Jack to be Little Red Riding Hood. How do you think Jack would react?

Angst Anon!! Hello! I LOVE this prompt/idea SO much. I had a little spare time at work today, so enjoy a little Halloween-themed post-Halloween drabble. :)

Primal

Read Primal’s counterpart, “Devour,” here.

As you waltz into the living room, Jack affixes you with a dead-pan stare. “Ah, mi cariño, what are you wearing?” 

You glance down at the floral-print nightgown covering your furry gray onesie with feigned innocence. When you raise your head to meet his gaze, the wolf ears on your headband turn askew. You raise one gloved hand, adorned with gray fur and fake claws, to straighten them. You shoot him a mischievous grin, offering a glimpse of the plastic fangs in your mouth. “What does it look like I’m wearing? I’m The Wolf.” 

“No, no, no.” Jack’s dark brows furrow tightly as he rises from the couch and walks toward you, waving his hands emphatically. “When we chose these costumes, I thought I was going to be the wolf. I mean, it’s kind of obvious, is it not?”

“I know, I know. But wouldn’t it be nice not to be the wolf for once?” You draw the Party City bag you’ve been hiding out from behind your back, extending it to him. “Besides, this costume is way too good to pass up.” 

Jack takes the bag from you slowly, his olive green eyes reluctantly curious as he rifles through the bag. When he reveals a lace-up bodice and bright red skirt from within it, his cheeks go a shade of crimson that puts Little Red’s hooded cape to shame. You suppress a snicker behind one gloved hand as he hastily shoves the costume back in its bag. Damn, he was too cute when he was flustered. “No, mi cariño. No way. I won’t do it. Come on, trade me.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him, taking a swift step to the side when he tries to swipe the fake paws from your hands. “You really think you can make a better Wolf than me?” 

The look on Jack’s handsome face is incredulous. His wide, expectant eyes and slack jaw scream, ‘Obviously.’ With a tone that is equal parts exasperated and humored, his voice echoes the same, “Obviously.” 

You flash him a dazzling grin. “Let me prove you wrong, then.”

Jack gives no protest save for a sigh as you draw the hooded cape from within the shopping bag around his shoulders. You swiftly tie it at his chest and slip the hood over him. As you card your fingers through the salt-and-pepper hair by his ears and forehead, guiding each lock into place with care, his hesitant expression softens. You step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin. “Alright, let’s practice. I’ll show you how good a Wolf I can be. Go on, say the lines.”

For a moment, you’re really not sure he’ll do it. Jack’s pensive gaze flickers over your face, watching you intently, as if to see if he can wait you out. When you don’t budge, he finally sighs. “Ay, Dios mío. Fine. Ah…abuela, what big…ears you have?” 

You flash him a fanged grin, lifting your clawed hands to wiggle your fake ears at him. “Ah, the better to hear you with, darling,” you say in the deepest, most guttural voice you can muster. 

Though he tries to hold it in, Jack outright snorts at your attempted impression. His laughter reveals a glimpse of the slight crook in his grin–your most beloved possession. You smile in turn. Humor was the way to Jack’s heart, and boy, were you dedicated to delivering. “Well? Keep going,” you growl at him, trying to stay in character. 

Jack draws in a shuddering breath, seeking to swallow his laughter. He pulls his lips into a hard line, composing himself. “Right, right. Lo siento. Ah, abuela, what big eyes you have.” 

Fully committing to the bit, you begin to circle him, watching him with wide, attentive eyes. “Ah, the better to see you with, darling.” 

Jack rotates slowly, trying to keep up with your prowl. “But, abuela, what large hands you have.” 

As he turns, one of his socked feet steps onto the Party City bag on the floor, throwing him off balance. You reach out quickly, planting one clawed hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Oh, the better to hold you with, darling,” you growl, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

Jack quirks a questioning brow at you, a challenge sparking in his olive eyes. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘hug?'” he jests, poking at your gowned chest. 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You really think it’s a good idea to talk back to the Wolf, mincemeat?” 

Jack gifts you an adorably lop-sided grin, one that sends your heart fluttering right out of your chest and into his hands. Sometimes you really felt more creature than human in his presence. It astounded you how the sweet, honeyed sound of his voice could rid all logical thoughts from your brain; how one look from him could turn your bones to jelly; how a brush of his skin against yours could reduce you to nothing but molten heat and primal need. Sometimes, you felt as if the only thing in this world that could ever be enough to satisfy you would be to open up your soul and swallow him whole. 

Jack breathes a soft chuckle, coaxing you back to yourself. “No, of course not, mi cariño.” He raises his hand to cup your cheek tenderly, a touch you instinctively lean into. With a small, pleased smile, he draws the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. His pace agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You swallow thickly, your throat suddenly dry. “Mi cariño…what a big mouth you have.” 

There is no world beyond his olive eyes, the warmth of his breath on your face, the searing touch of his thumb on your lips. “The better to kiss you with,” you whisper quietly. 

Though it’s Jack who makes the first move, dipping his chin and drawing you closer, you meet him in the middle with equal fervor. Your bones sing at the press of his lips against yours, a song so loud and clear you’re sure he must hear it. As his thumb finds the tender hollow behind your earlobe, liquid light pours into your soul, filling you up, up, up until your skin shines with it. When his tongue glides over the fake wolf’s teeth in your mouth, a deep rumble purrs in his throat. Your lips lift in a smile as you kiss him greedily, stealing the laughter straight from his mouth and locking it up in your heart, a treasure you will forever keep. You may not be able to open your soul up and swallow him whole…but this feeling…Well, this would suffice. 

When you finally part for breath, Jack dips his face into the crook of your neck, burying his nose into your collarbone. As he draws in a deep, savoring breath, you card your fingers through his hair, grazing your fingernails over his scalp. “So, how did I do?” you ask with a soft, pleased smile.

Jack burrows his face deeper into you. You can feel his grinning lips even through the fabric of your costume. “You did well, mi cariño. So very scary.” 

You chuckle quietly, kneading at the spot behind his ear affectionately. “So, you’ll let me wear the costume?” you ask, your voice tentatively hopeful. 

Jack gives one final nuzzle before he draws himself away from you. When his gaze meets yours, his olive eyes are bright and amused. You beam up at him, sure of his answer before he even gives it. “Ay, mi loba pequeña, you have won me over. But next year, I am picking the costumes.” Jack bends to snatch the Party City bag off the floor. When he pulls the bodice and skirt from within it, his eyes flick up to look at you insistently. “And we are going to have to find some tights for this, mi cariño, or we are going to have un problema muy grave.” 

. . .

Translations:

"Mi cariño" — "sweetheart," "my darling"

"Ay, Dios mío" — "My God/my goodness"

"Abuela" — "Grandmother"

"Mi loba pequeña" — "My little wolf"

"Un problema muy grave" — "A very serious problem"

. . .

Taglist: @h0wv3ry @the-ginger-draws @howlingco @ratisshortforratalia @safeikik @russell-ed @emilynightshade89 @mobiusismyfav @thepjofanqueen @couldnt-come-up-with-a-username @girlymusiclover09 @vigilantefucks @starfirette @scarletghost22

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending, Chapter 3

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Chapter Warnings: Language, violence and implied violence, Levi being a dick, please let me know if I missed anything

WC: 2600

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

I’m given no formal introduction to the soldiers, but Hange does take me around. I’m trying so hard to pay attention to what she’s saying because I think I could be friends with her, but I find myself zoning in and out of the conversation.

“You’ll technically be on Captain Levi’s squad but much like Eren you’ll be running a lot of experiments with me,” Hange says.

“Wait, hold on. I thought we agreed that I was allowed to kind of be my own free agent? What’s this about squads and experiments?”

She waves me off and says, “yes, yes, you have your independence still. But for the sake of our strategy and planning, we have to know roughly where you’ll be located. And as for experiments,” I swear I see her vibrate with excitement, “we also need to understand your abilities and how we can best utilize them.”

I’m still a little apprehensive but I ultimately nod. Eventually, I quietly mumble “I refuse to call that little shit ‘Captain’ though.”

Hange bursts into laughter, so uncontrollable that it starts to draw the attention of other people milling about. Once she collects herself, she says “I can’t wait to see you two interact more. You’re either going to be his favorite or he’s going to hate you with every fiber of his being.”

“That’s…reassuring,” I say wholly unconvinced.

Our tour around the barracks comes to a close at the mess hall just in time for dinner. I join Hange in line and continue to listen to her describing the quality of food. “It’s not the best but it’s not the worst either. They do what they can with what little resources they have. We don’t often get meat though so I hope you’re not strictly carnivorous,” Hange laughs at her own joke and I smile.

“Honestly, a hot meal that I don’t have to hunt or catch myself is a welcome change,” I lament.

“You said something similar about sleeping in a bed even though the dungeon beds leave much to be desired. If you hate living out there so much, why did you choose to live out there?” she ponders.

I smile again as food is added to our trays and we slide along. I don’t know what a lot of the items are so I just pick up all of the same things that Hange does. As we look for seats, I explain, “Well, truth be told this experience wasn’t exactly what I was anticipating. When I’ve lived on my own previously, I had the option to go into villages and I did so a few times a week.”

She sits down and I don’t pay much attention to our surroundings as I finish my story. “Sure, I was completely self-sufficient before but what I liked was that life seemed so simple. I did odd jobs for people, made art, and played music when I needed extra cash. I was expecting the same thing here but obviously that’s not what I got.”

Now that we’re sitting, I take my first bite and nod in contentment. Hange was right - it’s not great, but I’ve certainly had worse. It’s only now that I take a moment to look at the people near us and realize we’re being stared at. Before I can get too self conscious though, I notice the boy that I treated on the cart is sitting just up the table from us.

I grin, happy to see a familiar face, and I wave enthusiastically to him and say “Armin! It’s nice to see you again!” He seems embarrassed so I just turn back to keep talking to Hange. 

We finish eating and she shows me where to return my tray before changing the subject. “Okay!” she says with a clap. “Now I just need to show you to your room!”

The surprise must have been evident on my face because she laughs again and says “What, you thought we were going to make you sleep on the ground?”

I snort and respond, “no, it’s not that. I honestly thought I’d stay in the cell or be put in some kind of communal housing. I’m surprised I get an actual room.”

The humor drops from her tone as she says, “we did consider that, but both for your safety and that of the other soldiers, we decided it was best to keep you on your own.” I let her words sink in and I nod knowingly before she continues. “Plus, your room is right between the Captain’s quarters and my lab, so we can keep an eye on you.” When she says this, she almost seems like she feels guilty for not trusting me.

We stop in front of a door and I turn to her, trying to reassure her. “Hey, I get it. You guys have been really accommodating as it is, I totally understand that you’ve gotta watch me. I’ve said it before, but in your shoes I know I certainly wouldn’t trust me either.” With that, her smile returns and she opens the door to an admittedly very small room. 

Hange sheepishly says “it was converted from a storage closet so it’s-”

“It’s perfect,” I say with a smile, cutting her off before she says anything negative. “Whether it’s a closet or a cell or a blanket on the ground, I’m honestly just grateful that you didn’t opt to execute me.”

The backpack I took with me as I left the forest is sitting at the foot of the bed and there’s a small chest of drawers with a lamp on top. It’s not like I have a lot of things as it is, so this is more than enough. I open my bag and begin to put things away, and Hange’s voice cuts through my thoughts, “Even though your room is situated among the officers, you will still have to use the communal bathrooms and showers that the enlisted use. Sorry about that.”

I laugh, saying something similar to my previous responses, “I’ve been bathing in a river and rubbing flowers on myself so I don’t smell like a dead turtle seal. If it’s water and soap, I have no complaints.”

It seems like she has a question, but she just turns to walk out, only adding “I’m experimenting with Eren in the morning, so I’ll plan to see you just after lunch. Captain Levi and I want to test the extent of your abilities.” I nod and bid her a goodnight, hearing her mumble to herself as she closes the door, “what the hell is a turtle seal?”

When I wake up, I can barely make out what’s on the clock. I have no concept of time because my little closet doesn’t have a window so I flip on my light and instantly regret it. As my eyes adjust I see that I’ve missed breakfast so I decide to shower before I start my day. I fold my clean clothes over my arm and grab the towel and soap from the bottom drawer. As I walk towards the bathroom, I see what looks like a field of kids training.

Wow, Armin was right, most of them do look like they’re only about 15.

I shower quickly and peacefully, getting dressed before I step in front of the mirror to braid my hair. As I’m standing there, a girl with jet black hair walks in. I glance at her from the corner of my eye and recognize her as someone that was sitting with Armin the previous night. As I’m about to greet her, I realize that she’s merely glaring at me so I quickly decide against it. Walking back to my room I also realize how strange it would be to introduce myself to someone in a bathroom.

To kill a little bit of time, I go for a quick run to get my blood pumping for the day. It seems like everywhere I go people are staring at me.

This will be hard to get used to.

I cut my run off early when I came across Hange running an experiment with who I’m guessing is Eren. As I approach she spares me a glance before doing a quick double take.

“Are you wearing the same thing you wore yesterday?” she asks, now looking at Eren again.

I glance at my outfit before looking at her and blinking slowly. I answer with my own question, “you wear a uniform every day, does that mean they’re the same articles of clothes you wore the day before?”

“Touche, but you’re a civilian, why do you have more than one of the same thing?”

“Because I like it?” I say, a little perturbed. “It’s comfy, I can fight in it, and it’s all black so it’s good for concealing myself.”

“Okay, okay. I appreciate how early you are! Your enthus- wait! You are early right? I didn’t miss lunch again did I?!”

I chuckle a little, “relax, yes, I’m early. I was just going for a run before lunch. You didn’t miss anything.”

She heaves a noticeable sigh of relief and returns to her work. I decide to make myself comfortable and watch.

As I’m watching the scene unfold, I hear one of the only voices I’ve come to recognize.

“Oi! Y/n! If you’ve got time to sit you’ve got time to train,” Levi calls to me.

I sit up straighter, but I don’t look at him, afraid that if I do I’ll just lunge at him. I take a deep breath before I slowly turn to look at him. His expression is stoic as ever. I take one more calming breath before yelling back, “I train on my terms, remember? Plus, it’s almost lunch anyway.” I turn back to Hange and Eren and see him crawling out of the titan’s neck.

Holy shit, so there’s an actual person in there.

Once he’s been pulled out and the two start to head towards me, I offer the exhausted looking kid a smile. 

“I’m Y/n, and you must be Eren.” I stick out my hand but his big green eyes only look at it before looking back at my face. Somewhat coldly, he says, “yeah, I know.”

Rather taken aback, I slowly lower my hand and opt to look straight ahead as I offer a weak apology, “sorry, I didn’t realize you don’t shake hands with people when you meet them for the first time here.”

“Oh no,” Hange quips and I turn to her. “We do, he’s just being rude.”

I open my mouth to say something but I’m too stunned for any words to come out. At least she told me the truth. I hear Eren mumble something about not being rude under his breath and I realize I recognize his voice too. 

Before I can stop myself, the words come flying out, “Oh! You’re the kid that I could hear whining when you were in the woods the other day!” As soon as I say it, I want to suck the words back in but Hange laughs and, like a ghost, Levi seems to appear on the other side of Eren and snort too. 

I can see the kid’s temper flare as he yells back at me “Oh yeah?! Well you’re the freak that uses magic bullshit to ‘heal’ people! I think it’s a crock of shit and I think you’re dangerous!”

I smile at his outburst as we enter the mess hall. The four of us get in line and I can see that he’s flustered by the fact that he didn’t get a rise out of me. I shrug and say, “Well, you’re at least partially right. I am dangerous, but I have no intention of harming you or anyone else here,” I wink at him as he stares blankly. “There’s nothing ‘magical’ about my waterbending though. I simply manipulate water the same way people have done for thousands of years.”

My dismissal seems to shut him up. I see that he grabs different items than Hange and so I try to copy him. When we sit down, Levi disappears again and this time some kids sit with us, I’m guessing friends of Eren. Armin sits directly across from me and I grin at him again.

Hange can’t sit quietly for long, so she starts in “you say people have been bending water for thousands of years? Who was the first water bender? How did people discover they could do it? How did the first people learn?”

I smile as I listen to her questions and take a bite of my meal.

Hm, I think I like Eren’s picks better than Hange’s. I’ll have to remember this.

I look up, about to start, when I see multiple pairs of eyes on me. I chuckle and begin answering Hange’s questions.

“Well, it’s kind of complicated. Each of the elements learned from what we all call the ‘original benders.’ For earth benders it was the badger moles, for fire benders the dragons, and for air benders it was the flying bison. Water bending is weird in that the original bender isn’t an animal but rather the moon. People learned to water bend by mimicking the push and pull of the tide and since this is controlled by the moon’s pull on the earth and the ocean, people were basically just copying the moon. For that reason, water bending is actually stronger at night and strongest during a full moon. Conversely, I lose the ability to bend at all during an eclipse.”

When I look back up, everyone looks at me confused. “Okay, which part was unclear? I can explain something better depending on what you don’t understand.”

Hange answers immediately, “Y/n, nothing you said made sense. It sounds like you were speaking a different language. Dragons aren’t real and what the hell is a ‘badger mole’ or a ‘flying bison?’ And once you explain that, do you mind telling us what a tide is?”

Before I can start, Armin excitedly speaks up, “A tide is the ocean water hitting land! I’ve read about it! Are you saying you’ve seen the sea?!” His childlike curiosity makes me grin again. 

“Yeah, you’re exactly right. And yes, not only have I seen the sea, I’ve been swimming in it more times than I can count. I’m from the Northern Watertribe. It’s the farthest North you can go…or at least, that’s what people from my world think. We also think the Fire Nation is the farthest West you can go but I ended up here somehow so clearly we don’t know as much as we think we do.

“Anyway, badger moles are basically these big blind idiots that live underground. They use earth bending to feel their way around and it basically acts as their eyes. Flying bison are almost extinct, but the one that’s left belongs to my friend. His name is Appa and he’s probably as big as this room. He’s extremely fluffy and has six legs and a tail that can generate as much wind as a tornado.

“As for dragons, they definitely do exist. It was thought that they were hunted to extinction by firebenders at the beginning of the 100 year war but my friend Aang - the same person that owns Appa - encountered and learned from the last two dragons in the world.”

It seems like I’ve managed to mesmerize these kids and even Eren seems to have completely forgotten his anger towards me from moments ago.

With a slap of her legs, Hange declares, “Alright! Enough talking! Y/n, you ready to show us what you’ve got?”

And with that, we stand up and head to the training field.

[luchicm04]

lost in the forest - part 5

Masterlist

Summary: Both leaders take classes with the unwilling teacher, and she is reminded of her current state.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 2k

So... this part was difficult to translate, considering how the original was written. The next chapters will contain more two-language conversations, so I will try to translate the expressions and figures of speech as best as I can

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst, kidnapping

She wants to murder these people, she is sure of that remembering bitterly how difficult it is to teach people without being an educator. That is why she chose marketing! There you only see numbers, statistics, market research... purchasing behaviors! Not a couple of adults quite frustrating.  

Karen wants to throw in the towel.  

She glares at those red eyes that return an intense discussion of few learned words. How can she explain the grammatical rules? The gerund, the subject, predicate and even worse the tenses... It’s difficult. She would have been better off opting for German or Spanish.  

It’s easier than her native language.  

She hates her past self who thought it would be good to speak to them with this language. She purses her lips at who continues to question as a very intense logical person. Tobirama turned out to be the worst student when he questions the rules so much. Hashirama is less intense and natural.  

This guy is structured, conventional... hateful!  

So it all comes down to her usual room with more papers scattered on the walls in her attempt to be a teacher who gives her ideas and a better understanding of her language. Of course there is progress, she does not deny that it is surprising how quickly they both adapt when she struggled so much when learning Spanish. It took her years... after that the other languages were easier.  

Because by throwing yourself into work of that style you are forced to learn hard.  

“Look, the subject is the person of the statement...”, she begins slowly. At least he has stopped frowning and although slowly he gradually to understand her. Of course that is what she wants to believe when she knows that both their bases are different.  

She bitterly curses Master Tanaka. Why aren’t the Eastern root languages easier? She snorts indignantly.  

“Not understand,” the man simply says in his rough tone, not at all friendly and without any type of conjugation.  

How did she learn Spanish? Ah yes... first she spoke then she understood the basics.  

Something that Hashirama skillfully applies.  

“You do not have to understand the rules first, you know?”, she bites in her simple tone. It’s confusing to be in the same room. Her things are scattered. There have been hard days of confrontations over things so stupid her head hurts.  

She wants a coke. Too bad there isn’t one here.  

“Not understand,” the man insists crossing his arms. “Not explain well.”  

“I’m not a teacher,” the woman now sitting says without any care. “Although I have to admit that there are better students,” she sighs keeping to herself the ease with which they have adapted.  

“Mmmm...” Tobirama doesn’t say anything and looks at the papers. “Exercises,” he gives her a blank parchment, typical of someone who is unkind and doesn’t know how to ask for things.  

“At least say please,” Karen points to one of her drawings where the basic manners that were tattooed on her soul as a child are expressed in a basic way.  

“Mph...” The albino does not comment. “Not have,” he throws shortly with an insolent arch.  

“Despicable,” Karen simply sighs reluctantly taking that sheet. “Dinner?” She ignores the intense look of someone who wants to decipher her lines with so little. The man is usually better at writing than his partner... taking this as a personal challenge.  

Although she swears that Hashirama has more fun since his brilliant idea or learning.  

Why did she choose to teach them? Ah, yes... she needs more to communicate... such as, for example, asking exactly where she is.  

She snorts again, gives some verbs, short verses and conjugations that she remembers, and sighs. Basic education is essential, but she learned it a long time ago and she forgot so many things that it is very difficult to explain. “Look, do this.”  

“Mmmm...” The man doesn’t say anything.  

“Dinner?”, she asks again seeing how she was ignored.  

“Usual time,” he simplifies with short comments, turning his back on her and leaving without any kind of extra expression. He is cold, rude and intense. Tobirama is still not her favorite person, but at least now he is more passable.  

Although he continues to look at her like a lab mouse.  

She looks at the door again, not wanting to take another important step outside. Hashirama indicated that she could leave but not go beyond a certain perimeter for some reason that they simply couldn’t explain, although an internal voice was more of not wanting to... She still feels kidnapped, but she receives a bath and more humane treatment.  

She could complain more but she doesn’t ask for much when she sees that life is rustic. They are distrustful and observant. She doesn’t know what they do, but she thinks it looks like something military, always looking over their shoulders and exchanging whispers that she doesn’t understand.  

She does not want to ponder too much on her little analysis, it is better to rest before the mean because her pain increases as she focuses on deciphering the type of culture beyond the oriental one that she has captured. She settles and closes her eyes to think about her bad luck.  

She misses her family... She denies to fall into depression again, because this progress is already done... and what is done, is done, so she tries not to see the negative in the matter.  

The kidnapped girl simply settles in... she no longer wants to think.  

If not, she will cry again.  

──

She has discovered that the house is lonely at all hours. She brightens up and goes out one afternoon on the fourth day of the week when none of her annoying visitors have come. They have plenty of time and she refuses to accept that she feels alone, depressed and missed by such absences.  

Hashirama’s only. Tobirama is irritatingly calm.  

Not even her usual escorts have come to take her to take a bath. Something is happening and she is bothered by the discomfort of missing out on whatever is going on beyond the thick forest. She stands on the edge listening to the birds in the distance and her nose fills with the clean aroma of nature.  

This is very different even from her destination travel place, now that she thinks about it... How did she get here? She has gone through so many crises that being calm gives her anxiety. She shouldn’t feel like that, she should fight, search and locate herself to be able to return home.  

However, she has confirmed that the constellations are not the same. She does not want to ask for a map to prove the stupid theory that has been going through her head since she first saw them. Those absurd ideas of fictional stories that her sister loves to watch...  

She misses her family, her friends, even her job...  

“You should not be here.” Someone scares her. Tobirama gives her a rather strange look that makes her more uncomfortable than normal. Light bandages are visible under the simple yukata.  

“Your conjugation is correct,” she focuses better when she sees that she should not be interested in the man’s wounds. She pretends not to see them, not to notice them so she can sigh.  

“You should not leave the house,” he warns without changing his cold tone. Karen crosses her arms frowning. A voice advices her not to play hard to get... she sees the features of the man’s white face so strangely tense.  

“I wasn’t going to go to the forest.”  

“That is not what I said.”  

“Mmmm... someone is being mean, more than usual.”  

“Karen,” the man warns with his neat tone in an austere touch, crosses his arms and watches his steps seriously without bothering to explain things. He never does but today it feels different.  

“Well... dinner?”  

“There will not be any.”  

“No?”, she frowns. She doesn’t like the company, but she doesn’t complain for now. She feels she shouldn’t.  

“No.”  

“I can make something.”  

“No.”  

“But...”  

“...”  

Karen tenses up and swallows a strong lump in her throat because of whatever the look transmitted to her with a quick shiver, very different from the first time. She doesn’t say anything, so she turns around with her heart racing because of such a strange emotion she has felt. She walks swiftly and quickens his pace not bothering to see if the company is following her.  

She closes the door and goes to bed automatically not wanting to reply. The person remains expectant.   

Karen has to admit that it was uncomfortable. She didn’t sleep well without wanting to face that person’s murderous harshness.  

Reminding her that she is still kidnapped... and not everyone is Hashirama.  

──

She doesn’t say anything. Karen stays locked up for the next few days with no desire to go out... There is silence, almost like the first days she was there. She hasn’t bathed and although her hair is tough, she has managed to tie it to a messy bun.  

Mikami hasn’t come. Tobirama hasn’t shown up either, thank God, since that annoying night and without asking about Hashirama.  

She remains alone. There has been no food other than bread and rice as always. There is no meat like the last few times. Although it lacks the flavor or softness of the seasoning of her land, she ate it, today conspicuous by its absence.  

“[...]” Someone opens the door. Karen does not turn around, not wanting to face somebody that gives her the murderous coldness of Tobirama. She hears the voice as it approaches her which makes her curious enough to turn around and frowns at not being known.  

“Mikami?”, she asks for her usual companion. She was austere, a rather suspicious lady who always treater her since she arrived at this place. Hashirama had told her her name as soon as she understood her language a little more.  

She doesn’t smile at her. She looks young compared to the former escort, which makes the newcomer at the question.  

She doesn’t say anything. She speaks in her native language with foreign touches, her gaze is dead but not aggressive... just like Tobirama she has some wounds that she simply ignores.  

She presses her lips together. “Are you okay?”, she makes gestures. Not that she was in the top of her favorite people ranking considering how rude she was during her first bath and the judgmental looks she gave her every time she talked to one of the men who visited her.  

But she is a regular person. She understood her fixations a little but more and she was not that difficult to deal with after several days of coldness. She was passable... and this one is completely strange, almost hostile.  

She shakes her head. She hands her a towel and stands by the door.  

She frowns. “[...]”, the stranger continues with a dry order that lacks the flat touch of her precious visit. She purses her lips, looks at her state and sighs, leaving the topic for now when she understands that they will be taking her to the bathroom after not letting her go out.  

She wants to ask so many questions, express her annoyance and perhaps throw a tantrum. The latter not so much. She is not a little girl not to understand that, despite the language barrier and the absence of her only two possible translators, she can sense that something serious happened.  

The woman walks behind. She feels her intense gaze as she walks down the hallway. “Tobirama? Hashirama?”, she asks continuing to walk with her and feels a slight chill that she ignores until she reaches the point where more ladies were looking at her. They are all different, although one or two she can see have light bandages under their rustic yukata.  

She sighs... she tries not to give them too much trouble so she undresses easily, removes the annoying bra substitute and the strange panties that she’s gotten used to, and gets into the bathtub with a trained ease.  

Usually the women talked among themselves, they judged her as they rubbed her or poured things on her body whose reaction they no longer caused her. Today there is silence, almost funereal that makes her remember the death of her grandmother.  

It doesn’t mean that this is... or is it? But she can’t really talk to anyone... not when his two apprentices don’t come, but at least they respect their routines.  

What exactly are they doing?  

A/N: As you will see, I will try to put more of her point of view, who is the focus of attention of others. Even if she doesn't want to she fails as a teacher, but she fights and is oblivious to the fact that the two people she teaches are prodigies... I always considered that both Senju were the best of their clan even after years.

Their learning ability is almost envious and she curses the fact that she did not choose Spanish as the base language in this place, but she felt comfortable with her mother tongue...plus she has more experience than with the others, forgetting the grammatical rules and other things. She now understands why they said that English is not that easy to learn.

Not to mention the slang or synonyms we pull out of our sleeves, a valid complaint I hear from those who learned English.

So poor thing. However, something happened... something that keeps the girl oblivious, in addition to causing a step back from the social progress she had had in the place, which, although null and still feeling like kidnapped, made her remember her position at this point.

They are not friends at the end of the day... many seeing her as a burden, the annoying pet of their clan leader.

Something Karen doesn't know... gaining enemies without knowing it.

Thank you for your comments. For now this is the only thing I can add: this woman will have a hard time…. easy, I don't know, we will discover it little by little.

Author-chan out!