#but yeah she eventually shut off her communications and didn’t open them again until long after sliver was dead

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Alec and bracelets

idk why, but i can imagine Alec wearing bracelets in his non-dominant hand all the time. Like, he never buys them. They are given to him by people who are important to him, and he chooses to wear them and never take them off.

Robert and Maryse probably won't like them at first, because "Honestly, Alec, it's a girly piece of jewelry! You're a man!" but Alec won't care, because people gave it to him because he meant something to them.

For a pre-teen or a teen Alec, he was always in the shadows of Jace, and he did get used to it, but knowing that his family or friends thought of him when they made or bought their bracelets, made young Alec feel like he mattered to someone.

His first bracelet was given to him when he was seven, by a five year old Izzy. It would be mismatched colors, but strong enough to not break unless sliced by a blade.

"Alec! I made you something!"

"What is it, Izzy?"

She took his hand and slid a mismatched colored bracelet onto his wrist. Alec stared in amazement, a little teary eyed at the thought of his five year old sister making him something.

"It's a sibling bracelet! See!"

"A - a sibling bracelet?"

"Yeah! It's a bond that means that we will never leave each other and always love each other!"

Alec wrapped his younger sister in his arms. He was not used to show a lot of physical affection to anyone. His parents had taught him that it made him look weak, and so, he avoided showing any sort of emotion. But, his sister had made him something, and he was not going to not show his sister that he appreciated it.

"Thank you, Izzy."

His second bracelet was given to him by Jace.

The boys were sitting on Izzy's bed. Isabelle had had a nightmare, and Jace and Alec had promised her to stay with her. Izzy never asked for help. She believed that it made her look like she was not strong enough. But, she knew she could always rely on her brothers.

Jace and Alec were bored. Jace had started messing around with some bands and threads that Izzy had. Alec had stayed quiet, and occasionally closed his eyes, listening to Izzy's breaths, and Jace's irritated sigh, and the creaking of the wood.

"Alec?"

Alec opened his eyes and looked at Jace. Jace avoided looking at Alec in the eye, and for the first time since Alec had met him, Jace looked shy and insecure.

"Yeah?"

"I made you something."

Jace handed him a bracelet made of black and gold threads, woven together. Alec understood that the black represented him because of his hair color, and the gold represented Jace, because of his hair color.

"I just noticed that you wear a bracelet, and Izzy told me that she made it for you when you were young. I just thought, that this could show that you will always be friend and my brother. And I hope that one day, we can be parabatai. I mean, you're the first person who doesn't eat up all the bullshit that I say and -"

"Jace. I like it. Thank you."

The smile that Jace had given Alec that night, had been the widest and most genuine smile he had ever seen on the boy's face.

Max had given him a bracelet before he left for Academy. Alec had been surprised, but forever grateful to have something that his little brother had given him.

"Alec?"

"Yeah?"

Alec was gearing up for a mission, but paused, when his brother had called for him. Wordlessly, Max handed him a bracelet made with a blue that matched their eyes, and a silver that just looked so pure with the blue.

"This is for you. I know that everyone thinks that Jace is my favorite brother, but he's not. Jace has a lot of stories to tell, and is more interesting. But, Alec, you've always been my favorite brother."

Alec had slid the bracelet along with Izzy's and Jace's, and choked out a "thank you". His brother had nodded, and then, ran out in search for his father, or maybe Izzy.

Max's words replayed in his head. You've always been my favorite brother.

It was a few weeks after Clary had come back from the Alternate Dimension, when he got his next bracelet.

"Hey, Alec?"

Alec looked up from his documents, "Yeah?"

Hesitantly, Clary moved forward, and kept a bracelet on his table. The bracelet had threads that were woven in an intricate pattern. It had six colors of thread on them, and he knew it formed the Pride Flag colors. Magnus had introduced him to the LGBTQ+ community.

"The Alec that I met in the Alternate Dimension was openly gay. And everyone around him accepted him for who he was. He was really confident and comfortable. He was happier, Alec."

Alec stared back without a word.

"He was wearing a bracelet like that. I drew it from my memory, and pulled it out, like with the Mortal Cup. I hope that one day, you'll be as happy as that Alec."

Alec stood from his chair, and wrapped Clary in an awkward hug. He had not realized how much it would mean to him to hear that there was a universe out there, where he was accepted for his sexuality and wasn't forced to change himself, until Clary told him.

"Thank you."

Clary smiled and nodded at him, before she turned and left the office. Alec stared at the bracelet for a few seconds, before he slipped it on his wrist, behind Max's and smiled softly at the colors.

Magnus had gotten him one too. It was a few months after Alec had gifted him the omamori charm, that Magnus carried with him everywhere.

Magnus had been so nervous. He did not understand why. This was Alexander! His boyfriend, Alexander!

"Alexander?"

"Hmm?"

"I got you something."

"Is it my birthday?"

"No. I just saw something and I thought of you and I bought it."

"What is it?"

"It's a bracelet. I was with a client today, and he was making these, and it just reminded me of you. So, I asked him if he would make one in Warlock blue and Shadowhunter gold."

Alec took it in his hand delicately, and stared at it.

"He said that he puts these charms or something, that was supposed to bring protection and good fate. You know, a little like the omamori charm that you gave me. And I thought that you could get a little more protection, because I mean, you kill demons for a living, and -"

Alec kissed him. He didn't know how else to shut him up, and show how much he appreciated the gesture at the same time. So, he kissed Magnus, pouring all of his emotions into it, begging Magnus wordlessly to know how thankful he was.

"So, I take it, you liked it?" Magnus asked, when they pulled back. Alec laughed.

Simon had given him a bracelet before Asmodeus took away his memories.

Alec was supporting Magnus, when Simon approached him. Asmodeus was waiting for Simon, ready to take away his memories.

Simon took off the bracelet he wore. His father had given it to him when he was a child. It had three brown threads on it, and the center thread had a silver arrow on it.

Simon handed it to Alec, and said, "My father gave it to me when I was a child. I know that I won't have any memory of any of you, but I know that I will remember that bracelet. If I ever see you guys again, at least, I'll know that I knew you, and that your family - this family - and you were someone important to me. Thank you, Alec."

Izzy and Clary were sobbing behind them. Alec was stunned. Simon and him were never close, but they had a mutual respect for each other.

Asmodeus took Simon away, and the rest of them returned to New York. Alec had added the bracelet to the collection he had on his wrist. Clary had explained to him, that Simon's father had made it for Simon at a fair, and had told him that as long as Simon wore it, his father would always be with him.

Alec had cried that night. He hated to admit it, but he missed the nerd.

It was a few years later when Alec got his next bracelet. Magnus and Alec had adopted their second son, Rafael. It had taken some time for him to warm up to Alec and Magnus.

"Daddy?"

Alec looked up from his work. Rafael was sitting on the couch beside him. He looked at Alec with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes, Rafe?"

Rafael pulled out a bracelet from his pocket. Alec and Magnus knew what it was. It was the only thing that Rafael had from his biological family. It was a single thread, with one bead on it.

"My real daddy used to wear this. But, now, you're my daddy. So, I want you to wear it."

Alec held out his hand, and Rafael tied it around his wrist, behind all the thin bracelets he wore. When he was done, Alec ruffled his son's hair, and smiled at him. Rafael smiled back, and leaned against his father.

His younger son, Max, had made one for Alec, like Izzy, Jace, and Max had.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Alec laughed, and picked up his three year old son in his arms, throwing him in the arm. Max giggled loudly, and Magnus and Rafael followed Max to where he was greeting Alec at the door.

"Hi, Max! How was your day?"

"I made you something, Daddy!"

"Really? What is it?"

Max held a small black thread with colorful, glittery beads on them. He put it against Alec's neck, and said, "I made you a necklace, Daddy! Like, Bapak has!"

"But, Max! This is so small for my neck! Why don't you tie it around my wrist? With the other ones that I have?"

Max pouted for a moment, before nodded. Alec held out his wrist, and Max tried to tie it around his wrist. Magnus, magically, tied the thread around Alec's wrist. Max beamed at his father, who beamed back at him.

Alec put his son down, and greeted the rest of his family.

But, he won't wear all of them all the time. There were too many of them, and after he would become Consul, he would have to look professional. Eight bracelets won't make him look professional, and he knew that.

So, he would ask Magnus to charm them, that if he ever lost one of them, they would magically return to his pocket.

He would wear the bracelet that Magnus gave him all the time. The others, he would tie them together, and attach it to his set of keys or slide them on his belt, so that they were hidden by his blazer (formal jacket).

Eventually, when he would become an uncle, or a grandfather, he got more and more of them. He would tell anyone who asked how he got the bracelets he had, and who gave it to him. All the little kids would listen to him, with wide eyes and fascination.

And when Alec would die, Magnus would made sure that Alec was wearing all of his bracelets, laughing through teary eyes as he recalled the stories of how he got the ones from his siblings or from Clary, or Simon. Rafael and Max would stand with their Bapak, and would cry with him at the amount of bracelets Alec had gotten from his family, and friends, and nephews and nieces, and grandchildren.

Anyways, it was just an idea that I liked a lot! Thanks for reading this!

[ragingbookdragon]

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.

She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.

Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.

***

“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”

She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.

Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”

“Well, I make a —”

“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.

“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”

“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.

“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”

Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”

She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”

She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”

“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.

“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”

“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”

(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”

Jason smirked. “No.”

“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.

“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”

(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”

“Then let me help.”

“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.

***

Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.

“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”

(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”

He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”

“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”

“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”

“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”

“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.

“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”

He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”

“Even Batman?”

Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”

“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”

“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”

“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”

“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.

“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.

“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”

“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”

He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”

(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”

“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.

“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”

Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. ��That’s not what that is.”

“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”

“It isn’t,” he glowered.

“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”

“She non-lethal?”

“Mhm.”

They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”

“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”

They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.

“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”

“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.

“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”

(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”

Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.

********************************************************************************

Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy @foreverthefloor @natatawa-ako @impactshawol @bethabear12 @adazzlingsakura @kimhanbiin @thatanonymouschocolate @mischief-writter-24-7 @lostinwonderland314 @elz-zalarrr @lady-of-the-abyss @peqchynero @d3m0n8ch1ld @goldenguki @fallen-wolf22 @battlenix

[xoxo-teddybear]

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Cursing

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

Summary: It’s almost splits-ville for Bakugou and Y/N, but Bakugou’s not ready to let go.

“Hey....can we talk?”

Bakugou looked up from his seat on the couch and paused the TV to look towards Y/N. He took notice of her attire. Jacket and shoes on with her purse nearby.

The couple of 3 years had been on fighting ends for the past few months. It was always over little things and recently they had just gotten into their biggest fight over Bakugou’s jealousy. He had been wrongly suspicious of Y/N and her boss sleeping together and demanded she quit being a hero, claiming if she did he could take care of the both of them with his earnings. They fought it out with harsh words and plates being thrown across the kitchen, but eventually they made up. In the end, they were still cuddling in bed and giving each other kisses, and life was once again blissful. At least, to Bakugou. Y/N was in a different state of mind.

She had grown tired of the constant fighting. She missed her old Katsuki. The one who trusted her even with his insecurities and communicated. Now, he bottled everything up and constantly yelled. She felt like she was living in a war zone and she was losing, so she surrendered and made her decision. It was time for her to go.

“Sure babe. What’s up?” Bakugou said sitting up a little straight with a smile on his face. He felt nerves rising in his chest but he was hopeful it was nothing. He loved Y/N. Truly. Just seeing her or thinking about her gives him butterflies. He intends to marry this girl, but he can’t help his own problems. He’s been trying to deal with it himself but no progress has been made.

Y/N noticed the smile. It made her heart ache. It was the smile he always had on whenever he saw you, and it was also the smile that never stayed longer than a few minutes. After those minutes, his screaming would be introduced.

“Bakugou. Please don’t call me that right now,” Y/N said with shut eyes as she bit her lip and took a seat next to him. She didn’t sit close by like she usually did. She put some distance between them and when Bakugou tried to move in closer, she raised a hand to stop him.

“...Why can’t I call you ‘babe?’ And why the hell are you calling me ‘Bakugou?’” He seethed out. He was already pissed and it hadn’t even been 5 minutes. “Y/N! What’s going on?” He asked with concern. Y/N took a deep breath before she sighed and looked at him with sad eyes.

“I think we should break up.”

Bakugou’s eyes went wide and his anger turned off. He did a complete turn as fear and an uneasy feeling entered his system as those words left your mouth. He looked at you for any signs of weakness.

‘Maybe this is a joke. There’s no way she’s serious. She has to be lying!’ Bakugou thought to himself as he continued to shake in his seat.

“W-What?” Was the first thing he could put out. “Heh...I-I...No, you’re..you’re kidding, right?”

“Bakugou..”

“Please don’t call me that, Princess. I-It’s Suki, Katsuki, Baby, please anything but that!”

“I’m sorry....” you said with your head down and hands in your lap.

Silence fell upon the room and you could hear Bakugou’s little whimpers of weakness from time to time. You saw in your peripheral vision that he was shaking and you noticed how his eyes glistened with tears.

“Why?” He asked with a whispering voice.

“It’s just...it’s not the same anymore Bakugou. All we do is fight and yell and yeah there’s some good times in between but the bad outweighs the good,” your tears began to fall because this hurts you just as much as him. “I don’t feel like the same person anymore, Katsuki! I used to be so happy and confident and ever since we’ve been fighting I’m always upset and I feel so weak and I’m always second guessing every move I make in fear of making you upset! ....I can’t live like this anymore.” You whispered the last part.

“Do you not love me anymore?” Bakugou asked with a shaky voice. Your head snapped as your jaw dropped in shock.

“I- I love you so much! Too much! I love you so much that I’ve been destroying myself just to stay with you!” You explained.

“So then why do you want to leave me?!” He screamed.

“I don’t want to but I have to!” You said as you stood, “This isn’t healthy anymore and I’m not as happy as I used to be and you’re not the same! You’re always mad now, you’re always yelling and I don’t want to feel like I’m in a war with my own boyfriend. It’s supposed to be me and you against the world, but recently its been feeling like me vs. you.” You said.

“Then I’ll change!” He began, “I’ll do better. Work’s been stressing me out and I’ll stay home more and spend more time with you! I-I’ll stop yelling and I’ll...I’ll be nicer and be better just please stay!” He stood as he spoke. You looked up to him with tears streaming down your face and you saw as his tears fell from his cheeks and went to the floor.

“Please Y/N! You can’t do this to me, I need you so much. I love you so much, I’m begging you not to go, PLEASE!” Bakugou knew this was so belittling of him, but he couldn’t care less about his ego. He couldn’t afford to lose you, the girl he courted for so long and spent years with.

“Bakugou-“

“Katsuki!” He corrected. “It’s Katsuki to you!”

“....I have to go,” you said and gathered your things as you stood up. Bakugou shook his head and repeatedly said “no” as he ran after you and held you by your waist from behind to keep you from going.

“Let me go, please Bakugou.”

“Please! Please Y/N look at me!” You bit your lip to hold in your sobs as you turned to face him. It was the least you could do after he dropped his guard and held no dignity for himself in the moment.

“I’ll let you walk out that door right now, and I’ll leave you alone for the time being ONLY if you promise me you’ll come back to me. Please! If you need a break, I can give that to you but please don’t leave me permanently!” He offered. “You don’t even have to go! I’ll go, and I’ll find my own apartment to stay in until you’re ready for me again but please PLEASE stay in my life......I need you,”

His tears fell as his eyes were blood red and he held back his choked up sobs. You sighed as you went in to hug him one last time. He took it as a sign of agreement and settled the slightest bit as his arms quickly wrapped around you. But this was going to be your last hug for awhile.

“I’m sorry Suki. I love you so much...but I can’t stay here anymore,” you said as you looked up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. “Maybe some time in the future if things change and become different, I’ll come back to you, but right now, I need to get away.”

“No Y/N, please-“

“We’ll be okay. This is what we both need. We have to get away from each other.” He cried even more at your words and you followed his actions. “These past 3 years with you have been amazing, Katsuki. And I feel so blessed to have known you for as long as I have, but I just need a break. Please give me that.”

Bakugou looked into your eyes as he came to a decision. One that would break him.

“I can’t.” He said and backed away from you shaking his head, “I can’t allow myself to willing let you leave me. I love you so much and I need you in my life Y/N. I’m always going to beg you to just please stay...but I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Bakugou showed a sad smile before he spoke.

“So I won’t ‘willing’ let you go....but I’m gonna turn around. I’ll turn around and hopefully a certain amazing, beautiful, powerful goddess won’t try to get away. But if that goddess ever decides she wants to come back, I’ll be waiting for her with open arms.” Bakugou said and then turned, showing you his backside. You gave a sad smile as you realized this was him giving you the chance and break you needed.

You quickly ran up to him and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a hug from behind. You pecked his cheek and noticed his eyes were closed as tears fell.

“Bye Suki,” you whispered and walked out the door, leaving Katsuki alone with his back still turned and tears still falling like a flowing river.

“Bye Princess.”

[kung-laos-hat]

Kiss Me

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

AN: Kung Lao, my beloved. Wrote this while listening to Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ft. SZA, banger song. Not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Who doesn’t like when a little friendly rivalry turns into something more?

“You ready to meet your match this time?” Kung Lao chuckled, adjusting his footing and placing a hand on the tip of his hat.

“Course’ I am Lao,” (Y/n) huffed, getting into position, “When they get here make sure to let me know, yeah?”

This had become a daily occurrence. After dinner time, when lessons and training were done for the evening, the three of them would return to the court and cash in on a little sparring. It was their odd way of spending time together outside of missions, plus with the grand tournament coming up, they could use the extra practice.

Usually they had a rotation system that went Liu versus (Y/n), then (Y/n) versus Lao, then Liu versus Lao. They would rest a little after each match, then continue on per usual. However today’s session was going a little different.

Yesterday, (Y/n) had won against Lao and was so proud of her achievement she couldn’t help but rub it in, and Lao, being the prideful young man he was, demanded a rematch. He claimed the mission he’d gone on earlier that day had screwed him over physically. (Y/n) agreed to it, and now here they were.

“3...2...1... fight!” Liu Kang called out from the top on the stairs leading into the main hallway. As the pair lunged at each other, causing reddish brown puffs of dirt to fly off of the ground, he calmly sat and observed.

Minutes passed, and neither party seemed to have even made a scratch on the other. However, an impressive amount of blocking was being done by Kung Lao currently, so Liu assumed the victory would go to (Y/n). The girl had a giddy smile plastered across her face, and it seemed like she, too, expected the victory to be hers.

Liu turned to the side and reached for his water, but noticed he hadn’t brought any with him. He sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to fetch some water from the kitchen. Continue on, but please don’t wreck anything or kill each other. Master will have a fit and then I’ll receive part of the blame for not monitoring you two properly.” Liu said.

“Expect to come back to my—,” (Y/n) began before dodging a kick, “Another one of my victories!”

“Fat chance!”

Previous to all of this, the two friends already had some sort of tension between them. It started off as a friendly rivalry, competing for trifling things such as the last egg roll or using the bathroom first in the morning. But as the years passed, the competitons began to become more... personal. And so did the bickering. Somehow (Y/n) and Lao shifted from “if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick your ass” to “if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna make you.”

Nevertheless, the three of them quite enjoyed their dynamic (despite Liu Kang shooting knowing looks at the two individually).

Now (Y/n) had Kung Lao backed into a corner with her (weapon/power) held against his neck. Lao strained his neck upwards, his left arm holding his hat behind his back.

“That was the saddest block I’ve seen all day, Lao. Do you yield yet?” (Y/n) smirked triumphantly.

He glanced down at her and huffed. “Watch your tongue, (Y/n).”

He swiftly slid his foot under her, knocking her off her feet, and brought his hat back up to his head before disappearing into the ground. He reappeared behind her and attempted to pin her to the ground, but she jumped up and tackled the boy, landing with her legs straddling Lao’s right one and her hand on his chest.

“You’re so predictable these days,” (Y/n) laughed.

Lao propped himself up on his elbows, “You’re only saying that because you’ve gotten used to my moves.”

“Maybe you should take some time away from me,” (Y/n) jeered, “Y’know, and learn some better ones.”

Lao furrowed his eyebrows, “God, if you don’t stop flapping your mouth—,”

“You’re trapped under me, what are you gonna do? Kiss me?” She laughed.

Lao brought his leg up and forcefully kicked her off, sending her tumbling across the court. (Y/n) jumped onto her feet, narrowly avoiding hitting the wall.

“If you keep that up I just might.” Lao teased.

“You wouldn’t have the nerve,” (Y/n) lunged at him again.

Lao used his hat to block her attack and landed a solid kick to her side. “Is that a challenge?”

God, every word that came out of the girl’s mouth was beginning to get him fired up. He could feel his chest begin to tingle with a mix of excitement and anxiety. What if (Y/n) genuinely wanted to kiss him? If he tried, would she pull away? Kung Lao had always been the bolder of the two, but still.

Kung Lao charged at her and grabbing her hands, holding them behind her back with one hand before she could fully regain her footing. With his other hand he grasped the collar of her top and pulling her closer to his body. (Y/n) was paralyzed by this sudden action and her breath hitched. She looked up at Lao with uncertainty, the color of her cheeks turning redder than the fabric Liu Kang tied around his head.

Lao’s hand trailed up to her face, holding the side of her jaw with his pointer and middle finger while his thumb traced circles over her lower lip. Lao was looking directly into her eyes now.

“Just say the word and I will, (Y/n).” His tone was quieter and more serious than ever before.

(Y/n)’s mouth quivered. It felt like her brain had entirely blanked and she couldn’t find anything clever to respond with.

“I— I... I yield!” She cried, quickly pulling away in embarrassment.

(Y/n) ran up the stairs just as Liu Kang returned. She nodded to him in acknowledgment, but continued to rush off to her room.

Liu stopped and glanced from her retreating figure to his cousin who stood along in the court.

“So... who won?” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Kung Lao buried his face in his hands.

———

The next couple of days seemed incredibly off to everyone. (Y/n) went out of her way to avoid interacting with Kung Lao, and vice versa. Lao’s thoughts were just too jumbled for him to approach her, no matter how much he wanted a confirmation on whether she felt the same or not, and (Y/n) was having a difficult time making sense of Lao’s actions.

What would happen if they did like each other? Although at this point, neither of them were sure if “like” was the correct term to use. (Y/n) was certain up until then that Kung Lao had meant everything was a joke and simply took this one a little too far. The insults, the flirting, all of it had been a joke, right? That was their silent agreement. Lao would never do anything with the intention of... well... getting to (Y/n), per say. Their intentions with eachother had always been purely platonic.

But was that really the truth in (Y/n)’s case? Or had she been ignorant to her own feelings towards the boy all along? Is that why she couldn’t stand to look him in the eye now? What if she really was in—

“(Y/n)! Master wants me to accompany him somewhere, so I can’t make it tonight.” Liu called out as he jogged to catch up with the girl.

She blinked, “Oh, it’s alright Liu, we can reschedule for another night then.”

He stretched his arms over his head. “Why don’t you use the time to catch up with Kung Lao? It seems like you two hardly got to spend time together this week.”

(Y/n) blushed and began to shift her feet uncomformably, “Lao and I— we’re- I haven’t...” She sighed, “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to him any time soon.”

Liu frowned, “It isn’t my place to speak in the matter, and I’m not sure what went down between you two, but If Lao said something I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

The girl groaned and leaned her head back. “That’s what I’m afraid of...” She mumbled.

Liu placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, then placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you two will be back on track eventually. Remember: a little communication goes a long way.”

She nodded, “You’re right, I know. I’ll try to sort it out.”

___

Now, Kung Lao was completely crumbling over why (Y/n) had pushed him away. He believed that (Y/n) felt something for him, he was sure of it, and he’d been searching for an opportunity to pursue her for months. So when she jokingly asked if he would kiss her, how could he have resisted?

It was an impulsive decision, he admitted, but he was so sure she felt the same that he thought it didn’t matter. Maybe he should have been more forward and confessed his feelings for her in a different setting.

Buuuuut it was too late now. He blew it. And now she was avoiding him. He was a fool to assume such things about her.

Lao signed and threw himself done on his bed, sprawling his arms and legs out dramatically.

“Cousin? I’m heading out soon, I came to say goodbye—,” Liu’s voice faltered when he saw the state of his friend. He stifled a laugh. “Y’know, if you if this is effecting you so badly, why not just apologize and talk to her?”

Lao’s head shot up in alarm. “Oh no, how much did she tell you!?”

Liu laughed, “Little to nothing, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed the strange energy between you two lately.”

Lao groaned and sat up.

“Heed my advice, and stop moping around, Lao.” Liu patted the other young man’s shoulder before setting off to find their master.

___

A few hours passed and Kung Lao finally felt like he had the right words to explain how he felt to (Y/n). Yes, he’d spent hours cooped up in his room, scribbling his thoughts down on paper until he ultimately decided it was best to be direct. The poor girl was probably confused enough as it was.

It was settled then. He’d talk to her tomorrow after training and lessons, but right now it was probably best to focus on dinner.

He silently walked down the main hall and towards the kitchen. He was sheet he staff had already cleaned up dinner, and seeing as he wasn’t present to eat with the others, it was likely they didn’t bother to prepare him a plate.

Lao opened the door but froze in his tracks at the sight of (Y/n) standing in front of the counter, her shirt stained with the remnants of assorted ingredients. She staggered back at the sight of him in the door way. Lao’s eyes strayed to a small tray of egg rolls and a few other dishes.

“Kung Lao,” She breathed out.

He cleared his throat. “That seems a little excessive for a late night snack.”

“Oh this—,” (Y/n) glanced to the tray and back at him, “You weren’t at dinner, and I didn’t expect you to come to the kitchen... it was supposed to be a secret.”

“I see.” Kung Lao was silent for a moment. “Oh. OH— this is,” He gestured to the tray awkwardly, “for me...”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and nodded, glancing down at the floor. The two of them stood without a word for a moment, anxiety building up in their stomachs. Neither of them wanted to be the first to break the silence, and yet both of them had so much to say.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) mumbled at last. “I took our usual teasing too far last time, and I shouldn’t have avoided you—,”

“I wanted to kiss you.” Kung Lao blurted out. “I still do. And wanted you to want me to kiss you.”

“Kung Lao, the jokes we made were fun and all—,”

“Well, I’m not playing around anymore, (Y/n). This time it isn’t a joke.” The serious look he had on the other day had returned.

“So...,” (Y/n) began, barely a whisper, “what are you saying?”

Kung Lao exhaled heavily and furrowed his brows. “How can I be any more transparent right now!?” He growled, “I’m in love with you, (Y/n).”

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of both of their chests in that moment.

(Y/n) smiled and wasted no time to wrap her arms around Kung Lao’s neck and press her lips against his. He kissed back without hesitation and wrapped his arms around her body shamelessly. Kung Lao deepened the kiss, and their lips moved together feverently, as if this was something they’d both been yearing for for a while.

When they finally separated, (Y/n) rested her head in the crook of Lao’s neck, sighing happily.

“You know what? I think I just might be in love with you too, Lao.”

[useyernamesteven]

(Needed some goofy fluff to distract myself from the angst im writing so buckle up, its long. Based on that one post I cannot find so if anyone can help a homie out, much appreciated)

Raya/Namaari Accidental Marriage Proposal

Its not a far stretch to assume that the different tribes have different practices and rituals. And given the 500 year gap in communication its also easy enough to assume that the tribes don't know about each others differing customs.

For example: marriage proposals. In Tail its as cut-and-dry as asking. Talon people propose with rings and jade coin. When you propose in Spine you chop down a tree to show your commitment and strength.

The Fang propose with blades. Fang people love their knives, daggers, spears, and other pointy weapons, so if you want to ask someone to marry you, you do it with a blade.

I like to imagine it'd be because offering a blade to someone- who isn't family -is the equivalent of trusting your life to that person. I like to think the Fang value not only a person's strength and honour, but their ability to care and protect their people. So giving a blade to your chosen love is like saying, "I'm giving you this weapon because I trust you with my heart, literally and metaphorically".

But again, 500 year old divide means others have no clue what giving a knife to someone from Fang entails...

So maybe its been a few months or so after the Druun have been vanquished. Raya is still re-learning how to be a 'princess' while playing liaison between the tribes, with Sisu as her partner in crime. She likes it because she still gets to travel and she gets to see her new friends from the other tribes: Boun's business is booming, Noi has started talking, and Tong has become the new Chief of Spine.

Then there's Namaari.

Six years of playing cat-and-mouse together (or rather angry kitten and homeless puppy) can be hard to overcome. At first it was a struggle. And incredibly awkward. Namaari, too guilt ridden over what she'd done, and Raya, still angry and socially stunted, could barely hold a conversation together.

Eventually Raya, fed up with the weird awkward talk, dragged Namaari to Fang's training grounds and challenged her to a sparring match. And only when it was over, the both of them exhausted and laying on the ground, did they start talking, actually talking. About what happened with the gem, with Sisu, what they can't let go of, not yet, but what they hope they can move past one day.

It made things after easier because it was familiar ground for them, but it also opened up new paths too. Now in the months since they saved the world and having spent that time working together, Raya would like to consider Namaari a close friend.

Which is probably why she's so surprised when Namaari off-handedly mentions her birthday is next week. Namaari, who's less than thrilled about her mother's plans for a big celebration, doesn't even notice how much Raya's caught off guard. Namaari doesn't really care for her birthday, much less when her mother makes a big deal about it, but she still brushes her hair behind her ear when she asks Raya if she's going to attend.

Raya recovers, nudging Namaari saying that she's obviously going, and boasting about the amazing gift she's going to bring.

Which then leads to her dragging Sisu to Talon in search of the perfect gift (Sisu being the only 'person' she knows who can help being that she's a master gift giver... Sisu's words, not Raya's, but still). They run around Talon for ages, with Sisu practically buying everything in sight (with the Heart Palace Credit of course) but Raya can't find a single thing she thinks Namaari would actually like.

And then she spots a Fang vendor selling blades.

The woman is nice and she asks Raya if she's looking for something in particular. Raya says she wants to get a dagger for 'someone special' from Fang (not wanting to rack up the price if the woman knew who it was for, but also completely unaware to what she's just implied).

The vendor seems a little surprised but she easily walks Raya through picking out the perfect dagger for her 'someone special'. Raya ends up buying a pretty, yet functional dagger with a dragon engraved in the blade and an ornate box to keep it in. As Raya's leaving the woman gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "All the best for the both of you and I'm sure she'll say yes," which Raya can't really make sense of so she shrugs and leaves to go find Sisu and her mountain of trinkets.

So now its the party, and when Namaari said Virana was making a big deal about it, she really meant it. People from all the tribes are attending and Sisu's brought her brothers and sisters and there's music and food and fireworks...

And Namaari stands beside her mother in a beautiful dress that makes Raya's heart thud erratically (it's totally platonic). Her and her Ba walk up to them and start making small talk before her Ba and Virana break off to chat with other dignitaries, leaving Raya and Namaari together.

Raya likes how Namaari relaxes around her when its just them, despite the room full of people. They talk and banter and tease and laugh, but more than anything Raya just likes being with Namaari. And when Namaari mentions how much she hates formal wear, how dresses don't suit her, Raya makes it a game to see how many times she can mention how beautiful Namaari looks while they're talking, just because it makes Namaari flush and do the hair thing she does when she's shy. No other heart-related reason.

Its not until much later when Raya suddenly remembers the gift she brought and she runs off to fetch it. When she returns she hands Namaari the sleek box with a smile and a sheepish "Happy Birthday dep'la".

And Namaari's blushing and smiling as she takes the box, telling Raya she didn't have to as she opens the box-

And immediately slams it shut. Her face turns bright red and she whorls on Raya with wide eyes and a panicked, hissed "whatareyoudoing?!" And poor Raya's totally thrown, so sure she'd picked out the perfect gift. "You don't like it?" But Namaari shoves the box back into her hands, with another frenzied whisper "thatsnotit!"

Well now Raya's a little miffed because "You didn't even look at it" and before Namaari can stop her she's pulling the dagger from the box and offering it back to Namaari.

Meanwhile the room goes incredibly quiet as everyone from Fang suddenly notices what's happening between the princesses. Virana nearly spits out her drink. Everyone else carries on like normal, but a few people watch their new Fang friends with curious looks, completely out of the loop.

So now Raya's essentially down on one knee without realizing it, Namaari's about to have a heart attack, everyone from Fang is on the edge of their seat, and the dragons are having a rousing drinking contest with people from Spine.

So the party is going great.

Raya (oblivious to the world save for Namaari) is giving Namaari her strongest puppy dog eyes because she'd spent so long looking for the perfect gift dep'la, and "You're pretty special Namaari, special to me, and you deserve it."

Namaari, as red faced as she is, softens at Raya's admission, smiling a little to herself before she takes the dagger from Raya with a soft "it's lovely dep'la".

And suddenly the room's loud again as people from Fang start clapping and whistling. Everyone else is lost but soon they join in as well, despite having no clue as to what they're cheering for. Namaari's back to being flustered and she grabs Raya's hand and hauls her toward Virana and Benja. Raya, finally taking in the room around them, is confused as to why people are congratulating her and Namaari.

Virana has recovered by the time the two approach and if no one knew better it might've also appeared she was trying hard not to smile. Namaari hisses something to her mother Raya doesn't hear, and she shoots her Ba a questioning look. Benja looks a little pensive but he's got a quirk in his lips that Raya knows means mischief.

Virana gently pats her daughter's shoulder before turning to address the room, excusing the four of them. They turn to leave but not before Virana calls out to the crowd, "And it goes without saying you're all invited to the wedding as well," and then ushers her horrified daughter, her baffled betrothed, and Benja out the door.

Instantly Namaari's in hysterics, asking her mother why she'd say that when Raya obviously didn't know what she was doing. Virana, quite obviously playing ignorance, asks why Namaari accepted the blade if she knew what she was doing. And poor Namaari can only gape, red faced and no come back.

Raya has finally caught on to what she's done and yeah, okay now it all makes sense. The vendor, Namaari's (gay) panic, the congratulations... she just proposed to Namaari. She just proposed to Namaari. In front of most of Kumandra. Oh toi!

Benja, still smirking to himself, ruffles Raya's hair before turning to Namaari and Virana and saying, "To be fair... Namaari did propose first."

Marriage proposals in Heart are an exchange of necklaces. So when Namaari had given Raya the Sisu pendant back when they were kids, they'd essentially gotten engaged and since Raya kept it, they've technically been engaged for the past six years.

(Too) Long story short, Raya and Namaari get engaged, get married, fall in love, and live sapphically ever after.

End.

(Okay, I'm done. Back to angst.)

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

[falcqns]

I know that I'm boring and that you'll probably block me if I request something again, but you're the only one who always writes request, so thanks in advance. ❤💕 Well, I thought of this, Henry as my husband entered the bedroom where I'm in bed with Kal sleeping barely covered by a blanket in panties only because I started to sleep like this like Henry. It can be always smutty smut like you perfectly write it. ❤

Big Brat

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Smut! Fluff, bratty Henry (like big brat), use of sign language, slight angst at the end 

A/N: I would never block you love! I absolutely love getting requests! I’m sorry this took so long to get to, I just started my second semester of college, and I have way more classes, plus a baby and some other drama which I’ll probs rant about later lmao. I hope you enjoy!

Henry had been downstairs in his office, playing Cyberpunk for hours. Due to an injury on set, he couldn't film, so he was stuck at home. You had hung out with him for a few hours while he played, but eventually made your way upstairs when you became too tired.

“Text me when you’re done so I can help you up the stairs, kay?” You had asked. He agreed with a smile. His injury wasn’t too bad, but he still had trouble going up and down the stairs, and his pain got worse at night, so you made it your full time job to help him. 

However, you should have known he wouldn’t listen. While he was grateful for your help, when he glanced at the clock and saw that it read 2:13 am, he knew he wouldn't wake you. He wasn’t THAT injured. 

He saved the game, and turned off the computer before slowly limping his way out of his office. He glanced around the downstairs of his home, and didn't see Kal, so he knew that the big bear was upstairs with you. He took a deep breath before making the journey up the stairs. 

He walked into the room, and his breath caught in his throat. You were nestled under the covers, with Kal snoring beside you. You had pulled the majority of the blanket to your chest, and had your right arm and right leg thrown over top of it, cuddling it. His eyes made the journey from your face, down your body, and stopping when he noticed you weren't wearing any pants, only blue panties.

He let out a low groan, and quickly stripped out of his clothes, before sitting down on the bed in his boxers.

He pet Kal in between the ears, gently coaxing the Akita awake.

The bear let out a low growl before turning to look at his dad in annoyance, sending a chuckle through Henry’s chest. 

“Sorry, buddy, daddy’s gotta go to bed so you have to move,” He whispered, and watched in amusement as the dog grunted in annoyance, but complied, jumping off the bed and making his way to his own.

Kal jostled the bed as he jumped off, which woke you up. 

“Henry? Why didn't you text me?” You asked, and watched as he slowly laid his body down, gripping his injured leg and easing it up and onto the bed.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to disturb you,” He reasoned, as his head hit the pillow.

You sighed in annoyance, propping your arm up on your elbow, your head in your hand.

“You could have hurt yourself more,” 

Henry scoffed, and ran his fingers through your hair. “But I didn't,” He whispered, and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, your annoyance melting away the second his skin touched yours. “God, you look beautiful.” He mumbled into the kiss, his left hand running up your legs and coming to rest on top your panty covered hip.

You giggled whilst pulling away. 

“Hen, your doctor said no strenuous activity for a least two weeks while your leg heals,” You reminded him, a knowing smile on your face. His head fell back once more, before sighing. “You don’t want to have to tell Lauren that you can't film for even longer because you had sex with your wife and hurt your leg even more, do you?” 

He gave you a side eye look. “No.” You chuckled as he covered his bare chest with his arms, crossing them. “it’s not fair,” He complained.

You rolled your eyes, and laid down. “Sometimes life isn't, my dear.” All you got was a grunt in response.

You rolled over, laughing at your husbands childish antics. You threw the comforter over your body, and tossed some to him, choosing to ignore the way he pushed it off moments later, obviously deciding to be a brat about the whole situation. 

“I love you,” You said in a singsong voice.

“No, you don't.” He grunted, a sniffle following moments later. You flipped over and almost laughed in annoyance at what you saw. He had his arms crossed over his chest still, his eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance, and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Are you seriously crying because I won't fuck you?” 

He snapped his head to glare at you. “Yes,”

“Why?” You asked, exasperated at his attitude.

“Because, I walked in and saw my beautiful wife wearing the blue panties I bought for her while filming Mission, and she won't even let me sleep with her because I’ll ‘hurt myself’,” He said, putting the last two words in air quotes.

“First of all, you're being a brat, second of all, you will hurt yourself.”

He scoffed again before answering. “No, I won't!”    

You breathed out through your nose before continuing. “Hen, that’s exactly what you said about the stupid stunt! And guess what, you hurt yourself, which is why we’re in this stupid situation.”

He sighed, before rolling over, you following and rolling to the other side.

You felt him roll back a few minutes later and had to mentally prepare yourself for the sheer stupidity that was sure to spill from his mouth.

“You could ride me.”

You eyes flew open, and your body flipped to face him again. 

“What?”

“You heard me.” “Obviously I heard you, you dingus, but no, I am not doing that.” “Please?” He begged.

You laid down again, and closed your eyes. “I’ve said no. You haven't listened to a word I’ve said, argued about every little thing, and are refusing to stop being a brat and just go to sleep! Its almost 3 am,”

He sighed again, and you felt your patience running out. “But, baby-” He began to say before you lost it.

You sat up and threw the blankets off of you before tugging off the panties and tossing them on the floor. You pushed Henry on his back and climbed on him.

“Shut up.” You demanded, and he opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, your hand slapping to his mouth. “I said shut up. You’ve pissed me off, so I’m going to ride you until I cum, and then I’m going to bed. I don't give two shits wether or not you finish. Now. Shut. Up.”

His eyes widened, and his hands ran up your legs, before you slapped one of them.

“You don't get to talk, you don’t get to touch. You’re in trouble, this is your punishment.” He sighed in annoyance, but accepted his fate.

You fished him out of his underwear and to your surprise, he was rock hard. You pumped him a few times, and glared up at him when he let out a moan.

“I said no talking!”

He opened his mouth to speak, but decided not to, instead communicating through sign language.

‘Thats not talking.’ He signed. You mentally cursed yourself for helping him learn sign language when he saw you communicating with a child at work who was deaf.

“No sounds.” You growled. He rolled his eyes and brought his straight hand up from his neck to his chin and pointing at you.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you too,” You said, before guiding him inside you.

You didn't give him time to adjust being inside you, instead you immediately started bouncing on him, and letting out moans.

Henry had his eyes squeezed shut, and his lip was trapped in between his teeth in an attempt to silence his moans. His hands were balled up and gripping the bedsheets underneath him as well.

You chuckled at him and stopped bouncing to grind your hips against his.

“If you would have waited until tomorrow morning, I would have willingly rode you,” You growled out, the pleasure from riding him quickly growing in your lower belly. “But, no, you had to be a stubborn little shit and piss me off.”

Henry locked eyes with you, pleading you to let him touch you. 

“I said no.” You grunted, riding him even faster. You could feel your clit catching on his hip every once in a while, and it was slowly bringing you to the edge.

By the look on Henry’s face, he was close too, but you didn't care about his pleasure. He had been selfish, now it was your turn.

You bounced on him as fast as you could, your head thrown back, and your hands gripping your husbands large pecs.

“Fuck, even when I’m mad at you, you still make me feel so fucking good,” You cried out. You were teetering on the edge, so you reached your hand in between your legs and rubbed your clit quickly, which threw you over the edge.

You came on Henry, crying and rocking, the waves of pleasure that crashed down on you seemly never-ending. 

You felt him tense up just as you were coming down from your high, and immediately moved off of him. He stared at you in confusion as you grabbed your panties off the ground and slipping them on, before grabbing your phone and walking towards the door.

You turned back to look at him. “I’m still very mad at you, so I’m sleeping in the guest room. If you touch yourself, I will not sleep with you until you’ve finished filming.” You said, before walking out the door, letting it slam shut behind you.

Henry sighed in desperation, but let you go. He’d make it up to you tomorrow, but he was too tired to do anything tonight, even finish himself off.

He rolled on his side carefully, and cuddled your pillow into his chest. He drifted off to the thought of you, wishing you were sleeping next to him.

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

So this is a personal one for me to ask and if you're not comfortable with it don't mind it; how would the tmnt boys (seperate) react when the reader confesses that they're autistic after the boys got curious when she had some peculiar, behavior or stims. The reader would be stressed, because she has a crush on the tmnt boy in question and she didn't want them to find her weird or just stop interacting with her. When she's met with confusion instead, because the boys never heard of it, cue this weird conversation where reader tells them to the best of her ability what it is and the boys just keep asking questions. Also some general headcannons with it maybe?

Okay so I'm actually really happy that you asked me this because I feel like ASD isn't portrayed a lot in any type of media. My ADD and ASD have a lot of overlap so I hope I can capture what you're asking of me!

Now let's get into it!

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to an autistic reader

Leonardo

he wasn't really sure what was happening the first time you reacted

one minute you were standing next to him doing dishes and the next you were attempting to claw your skin off like an angry cat

Leo tried not to look annoyed as he watched you rub your hands against your shirt until your flesh started to turn red

you looked like you were crying but he knew you weren't

but your face was starting to turn purple and your cheeks were puffy from the effort of holding your breath

"Y/N? You need to breathe."

You shot a glare at him, scathing eyes meeting his now very concerned expression

your own softened and you clutched your arms to your chest, heaving oxygen into your lungs until your face became a normal shade again

"Are you okay?"

The words were stuck in your throat and you weren't sure if you should nod or shake your head

so you gave him a half-hearted shrug

he frowned back at you but turned to finish the dishes on his own

when he questioned you about it later he couldn't help but be curious

"Well actually it's uh- it's kinda a sensory type of thing? There are certain textures that I can't stand touching do I avoid them but if I come into contact by accident my brain just kinda explodes and I shut down."

"How exactly does that work though?"

"I don't really understand it much but like- you know that feeling you get when you think there's a bug on you and there's not but it really really feels like it?"

He nodded

"Yeah, it feels like that. And anytime I touch something that triggers that reaction it takes FOREVER to get the feeling off my skin. That's why I usually wear gloves when I do dishes. Guess I just forgot to grab 'em today."

He was sympathetic

and god, you were so embarrassed

lucky for you, Leo's not an asshole

"Well thank you for explaining it to me, you really freaked me out earlier. I'll talk to April and see if we can keep a pair or two at the lair just in case you forget again."

Consider your heart melted

you couldn't even find the words to thank him and holy shit was your face red

"Hey y/n?"

"Yeah Leo?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me- us that you were autistic?"

Did you rip the band aid off now or make something up? Which would ,technically speaking, be less catastrophic in the long run?

"I uh- I really like you and I really didn't want you or the other's to look at me differently..."

wow, you liked him? miss ma'am you have saved this boy a world of anxiety and damn does he thank you for it

"Thanks for telling me... and y/n? I really like you to."

Awh fuck yeah, best possible execution of band aid-ripping-off ever

Donatello

Donnie wished he could act surprised when you finally told him

he really wanted to, it would've made you feel better for sure

but he sucked at lying and he didn't want to make you feel like he thought you were an idiot

because that was so far from the truth

after going through extensive research on Mikey's behalf when he suspected he had ADHD Donnie had stumbled across many different websites that discussed the symptoms and overlaps between both disorders

to make a long story short, Donnie knew that you had ASD and he was waiting for you to tell him

it would probably come off as rude if he brought it up in conversation right?

he didn't want to risk it

but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on you and your behaviors

he was a man of science, of course he was going to analyze you

not in a weird way or anything, just as a curious sort of precaution

but the longer you were involved in the turtle's lives the more noticeable your stims and meltdowns got, Donnie did his best to cover for you without making you suspicious of him

eventually he'd come up with something that he hoped would come across as a friendly gesture and wouldn't set you off or scare you away

it was game night at the lair and you, as always, were perched on the arm of the sofa, a large grin plastered on your face

inside your head was exploding but you were masking it pretty well if you do say so yourself

but Donnie was, well... donnie was donnie

so when he noticed you starting to rock a little more visibly he removed his attention from commentating the game and grabbed a pair of headphones from the side table

you were beyond confused when he passed them to you but your face revealed everything

"They're noise cancelling, try them on."

holy shit it was like putting your head underwater, everything was muffled

not in the way normal headphones did, you quite literally couldn't hear anything at all, just a calm amount of nothing

you nearly started crying when you realized that Donnie had figured you out on his own

but you'd never been more relieved about anything in your life

Raphael

he wouldn't admit that he was mesmerized by your presence

you practically radiated calm

his complete opposite

it was his favorite thing about you, because despite your quiet disposition and calming aura you weren't afraid to call him out or rebut any of his insults

this was not something you expected him to appreciate nor was it something you thought would make you catch feelings

but damn if you didn't

he'd been sitting in on yours and Donnie's little experiment for an hour or so now, watching you both exchange quiet whispers and inside jokes that you always seemed to lag on

then you slipped up

not bad, nothing detrimental to the project, just the same mistake that you'd already made ten times over

you might as well have exploded

"Y'N, you just have to move thi-"

"I KNOW DONATELLO. I FUCKING KNOW AND I JUST CAN'T DO THIS BULLSHIT!"

you set everything down gently enough to avoid breaking it before turning and storming out of the lab, waving your hands like they were on fire

Raph and Donnie exchanged a look that sent the larger red turtle following after you

when you calmed yourself down enough to talk you kept your gaze locked on the wall, explaining that you couldn't make eye contact when you were upset

he might not be the smartest brother, but Raph's no dummy, he put those pieces together pretty quickly after you told him that one small detail

he wasn't upset that you didn't tell him and you'd personally never been more relieved

your heart nearly splattered into the stratosphere when you finally gace him your own explanation

"yeah, I like ya too."

you grinned so wide you were sure your face would split open and your entire body rocked side to side with excitement

he thought that was pretty adorable too

And he did stick around to offer a bit of support when you apologized to Donnie for screaming at him

Michaelangelo

to be frank it probably shouldn't have taken so long for Mikey to realize that you were autistic

the similarities between your own personality and his ADHD were so in sight it was near painful

it was his turn to make dinner that night and you'd made sure that you came over early to help him set up, you knew how side-tracked he'd get and you were the poster child for solid routine

what more perfect matchup existed?

trick question, there isn't one

you were on one side of the counter cutting vegetables and he was on the other throwing said vegetables into the mixing pot

the music was at an ungodly level of loud so your only means of communication were screaming over it

"MIKEY."

"WHA?"

"YOU GOT THE-"

"YEAH."

"AND THE-"

"UH HUH."

"COOL, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-"

"TONGS? NO, THE SKEWERS. YEAH, THEY'RE IN THE OTHER DRAWER."

"THANKS."

the two of you went about your previous tasks, thinking nothing of the conversation that had just taken place

at least until you'd begun washing your knife and cutting board

that's when Casey walked in, looking both perturbed and annoyed at the same time

"Alright, which one of you knows telepathy?"

Mikey exchanged a glance with you and you returned it with a raised eyebrow

"The hell you mean brah?"

he looked at the both of you like you were the ones that had grown four extra heads before speaking again

"You literally just had a conversation with like five words and somehow just knew what the other meant? What's up with that?"

you glanced at Mikey again

"Holy shit, did we?"

"I mean, not really. You used your hands."

now all three of you were confused but it quickly became two when Casey shook his head in defeat and left the room

"You know I think he's right."

he blinked first and your staring contest ended

"But you used your hands-"

"I got autism Mikey, one does not simply not use their hands as forms of speech."

"You're-"

"Yep."

was the silence laughing at you? could it do that? it was kinda rude

"Huh, that actually makes sense, that's not mean is it?"

you shook your head no

"You're just me but fast."

Mikey agreed with that, pestered you with a few more questions, and went back about working, as did you, you saw no reason to address it further

but your cheeks burned red

"Yo- Y/N that actually explains why everyone else thinks we're a thing."

you didn't know if you could choke on air or not but you did it anyways

"Are we?"

he gave you his signature grin

"If we are then Raph owes April a hundred bucks."

you returned his smile

"Oh this oughta be good."

I'd like to preface this by apologizing for my near three week absence. Life got crazy and my writer's block hopped on a train, went through a school zone, killed seven pedestrians, and committed tax fraud before tumbling off a cliff never to be seen again.

But on the bright side- I got my SAT scores back and started some scholarship applications. Super happy with that. School's out in a few weeks so I'll be able to write more (hopefully).

Anyways, I hope I got this one down okay. I may have hyper analyzed the request so I might be a little off. But I really enjoyed doing this one and I hope you like it!

-Mars 🌠

[fanficshiddles]

Descent Into Madness, Chapter 1

Summary: Violet is new to the high rise, but mainly keeps herself to herself. Laing has noticed her a couple of times in passing, harmlessly flirting with her. But she turns down his advances. When the high rise descends into madness, he finds her being hauled around by some other guys, screaming and pleading at them to let her go. Laing rescues her and she thinks she’s safe with him. But he decides to have her all to himself instead, claiming protection for her.

Going to be a five parter! 

Warnings: Highly Dub-con, rape/non-con, loss of virginity, manipulation, forced orgasms, forced drug and alcohol use.

-

When Violet first arrived at the high rise, it was exciting yet quite daunting at the same time.

Violet liked to keep herself to herself, which was fine until she learned that everyone in the high rise enjoyed partying a lot of the time. But that was mainly on the floors above and below her, so she was able to keep out of it for the most part.

There was a really handsome man that had caught her attention once or twice. Doctor Robert Laing. He lived on the floor above her, he was very charming and always set her off guard slightly.

The first time she met him, was when he held the lift for her when she had some shopping from the grocery floor. The doors were about to shut but a long-fingered hand shot out and stopped it from closing, just in the nick of time.

‘Thank you!’ She said as she slipped inside, then was stunned momentarily at the beautiful man smiling down at her.

‘You’re very welcome, darling.’ Robert smiled pleasantly. ‘What floor?’

‘24th, please.’ She said as she snapped out of her daze and moved into the corner, giving herself a little more space between him as she placed her bags down.

‘Ah, you’re just below me.’ He grinned, pressing the two floors. Then he put his hand out towards her. ‘I’m Robert, Robert Laing.’

‘Nice to meet you, Robert. I’m Violet Simpson.’ She smiled and took his hand, he had a gentle hold but it felt firm at the same time. His hand practically engulfed hers.

‘How long have you lived here for?’ She asked when he released her hand.

‘Two months or so. I heard on the grapevine you just moved in a week ago. Are you liking your stay so far?’ He asked as he leaned back against the mirror.

She tried to ignore how good looking he was. The way his white shirt clung to his chest didn’t help and neither did the way his forearms were on show, his sleeves rolled up.

‘Uhm, good so far. I mainly moved here because it’s so handy having everything I need within the building. I’m not much of a people person, so not having to go out and about aside from work is ideal.’ She said sheepishly, looking down.

‘Ah, yes. And it is good not having to brave the harsh elements when you just need a pint of milk.’ Robert chuckled.

‘Sure is.’ She smiled, nodding in agreement.

She felt a little relieved when the lift stopped on her floor. While he seemed nice enough, there was something intimidating about Robert. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

‘Thanks again. It was nice meeting you, Robert.’ She gave him a sweet smile before exiting the lift.

‘The pleasure was all mine, darling.’ He smiled widely at her and waved just as the doors closed.

Violet had bumped into him a couple more times after the first meeting. One time she was just coming home from work and so was he. He held the door open for her and they rode up in the lift together again. That’s when she found out that he was a doctor.

-

It had been around a month since Violet had moved into the high rise, she knew tensions were rising slightly between the floors. Mainly between the upper and lower floors. She was somewhat in the middle, which she hoped was a good thing.

But she went for her weekly swim in the communal pool one Tuesday afternoon. It was usually at its quietest then, for some reason. So she always took advantage of that.

She had the pool to herself for a short while, making the most of it by getting in a good few lengths. But when she heard the door of the changing rooms opening, she felt her stomach drop. She had hoped to have it to herself for a while longer.

As she started swimming down towards the deep end, away from the changing rooms, she heard a familiar velvety voice come from the side.

‘Why hello, darling. Is there room for another?’ He teased, grinning from ear to ear.

Violet stopped at the deep end and glanced over, her heart skipped a beat slightly when she saw Robert. His black trunks left very little to the imagination. And he’d had a quick shower before coming through to the pool, his hair was wet and messy, he had droplets of water running down his chiselled chest…

She ran her hand down her face to stop herself from oogling him too much.

‘I won’t be much longer, so you’ll have the pool to yourself.’ She smiled sweetly at him and started swimming down towards the shallow end.

Robert smiled and slipped into the pool at the side. ‘No need, darling. I’d much rather enjoy your company.’ He purred and swam into rhythm next to her.

She blushed and tried to focus ahead of her. She wasn’t sure if he was naturally flirty with every woman or if he was genuinely flirting with her. Either way, it was getting difficult to ignore.

After doing a few lengths with Robert and making small, polite chat, she went to the steps and climbed out.

‘Leaving me so soon?’ Robert asked, sounding slightly hurt, but he had a smile on his face as he swam to the side and folded his arms over the edge, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes.

‘Yeah, I need to get dinner sorted.’ She said with a blush, trying to turn away to hide herself. Even though she was wearing a swimming suit, she still felt very self-conscious now she was out of the water.

‘Speaking of dinner.’ Robert said as he slowly swam down the pool, while Violet walked along the side towards the changing rooms, he kept in line with her. ‘Are you free on Friday night? I wanted to ask you out on a dinner date.’

Violet almost tripped over her own feet when he asked her. She looked down at him, mouth open in slight surprise. But then she got her brain to work again, eventually.

‘I… I’m flattered, Robert. Thank you. But I… I’m not really looking to date right now.’ She said quietly, nervously. ‘I’m still getting settled in here and finding my feet. I uhm, I really enjoyed your company while swimming though, thank you.’ She smiled and then headed through to the changing rooms.

Laing let out a groan as he floated onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

That girl was driving him insane. She was so shy and timid, always stealing small glances at him and by the look in her eyes and the flush that crept on her cheeks, she clearly fancied him. But why she turned down his advances, he had no idea.

But she was such a pretty little thing. Looked so innocent, he would love nothing more than to see her kneeling on front of him with her lovely lips wrapped around his cock. Then to have her whimpering and moaning underneath him as he thrust into her and made her body yield to him…

Robert cursed as he was hard just thinking about her. He quickly swam over to the edge of the pool and rested his head against the side as he slipped a hand down his boxers, squeezing himself.

He felt a bit perverse as he pushed his boxers down enough so he could stroke himself properly in a pool, but he couldn’t help himself. After seeing Violet in her swimming costume, he couldn’t think about anything else.

‘Oh fuck!’ He closed his eyes and grunted as he stroked himself faster, the water was making his movements more languid but it still felt good. He squeezed himself a bit harder, while wondering how tight she might be.

His stomach muscles tensed as he thrust into his hand, it didn’t take long for him to cum while thinking about his pretty little neighbour on the floor below. But his sperm was wasted as it was taken away in the water.

He wasn’t overly fussed in the end as he tucked himself away, knowing he wasn’t the first person to masturbate in the pool, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

After swimming under the water for a bit, he pulled himself out of the pool and headed for the changing rooms, needing a cool shower.

But he knew one thing for certain. He had to have that innocent little doe, one way or another.

[damnlance]

Number 3 for the klnace prompts please 🥺

Klangst Prompt #3:

“Can you please just.. hold me..?”

Summary: Lance has been having a hard time accepting his altean marks. Luckily, Keith arrives and is there to help him.

-

It’s been two years. two whole years since the war ended and the paladins made it back home to earth. two whole years since their lions took off in the middle of the night and never came back. and two whole years since Allura..

Since Allura died sacrificed herself to save the universe.

It would be an understatement to say that everyone came back home fine, because that was not the case. Coming back home meant bringing along nightmares that kept you up all night, unwanted, out-of-the-blue flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping out of your skin at any sound louder than a whisper, and much more. So, so much more.

For Lance, coming back home meant he could be with his family again, but leaving Allura behind was never part of the plan.

And Lance is reminded of her every single time he looks into the mirror.

It’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because at least he has a little part of her that he can see and touch and feel. But a curse because the part of her that he can see and touch and feel.. isn’t her.

He’s gotten used to his Altean markings since Allura gave them to him but even after two years, it’s still hard. Sometimes he goes an entire day without noticing them, forgetting they’re even there on his cheeks. But one tiny hint of emotion and boom.

They’re glowing.

Most of the time it's just a dim glow, a grayish light blue that’s only visible from his peripheral view. But on certain occasions, when he’s really up in his head and he can’t come down, they’re bright. They’re bright and buzzing and loud and blinding right there on his face for the entire world to see.

It’s rare, though.

And in the few times that it's happened, Lance always has the same feeling deep down in the trenches of his gut, with the same question burning in the back of his mind.

“Why me?”

For the longest time after the war, he shut everyone out. He hated being the center of attention, hated having all eyes on him, everyone looking at him like he was some fragile vase and if you said one thing that might trigger him, he’d break into a thousand pieces. He especially hated when his friends and family stopped looking him in the eyes when they spoke to him, their eyes glued to his markings which had them apologizing right after when he caught them, pushing him to continue with whatever he was saying.

It was too much..

He stopped going out in public or where there were people, and eventually locked himself in his room at all times. But he knew that that was a bad thing to do. Because it was just him all alone. Him and his markings. And that always made the thoughts in his mind and the feelings in the gut of his stomach come back to the surface of his health and spin him completely out of control.

Lance felt like he was on autopilot. He tried everything to cover his markings; hats, sunglasses, makeup, even stickers from his niece and nephew’s sticker books. It still did nothing to hide the fact that they were actually there.

And when times got drastic, he tried to take them off of his face. Literally.

When his family began to notice his distant behavior, they didn’t question it or push him to talk. They could never know what he went through in space, or how deeply he cared for Allura. But one family member in particular was really worried.

Veronica. She could read him like the back of her hand and when the other members of his family were too scared to confront the former Paladin, not knowing how he would react, Veronica stepped up to the plate.

She tried her best to be subtle and at first it worked. Her checking on him by helping him around the farm instead of being at work on the Atlas, tending to his every need when he asked, even guilt tripping him to going out to the store only to conveniently run into Hunk or Pidge or Shiro. And Lance knew all her little games of course, he just.. didn’t care.

So Veronica decided to call a distant friend.

That distant friend being the one person who knows Lance almost as well as she does.

The one and only Keith Kogane.

She called him in confidence and they talked a couple of times here and there. About the universe, his job with The Blade, and importantly, about Lance and his well-being. And it’s not like Veronica didn’t try to contact any of Lance’s other friends like Hunk, Pidge, or Shiro. She did. And he found out when they took him out for bowling and laser tag and he overheard them talking about it.

Yeah, let’s just say his marks were really glowing that night he confronted her about meddling in his life again.

But Keith was different. He was special. Veronica knew how strongly Lance felt about him and after a couple of different attempts to get Lance out of his room, or to talk about what was going on, she had no choice but to bring in the big guns.

Aka Keith.

It wasn’t easy, begging asking Keith to fly back to earth and take some time away from working with The Blade to comfort his sad friend who he hasn’t seen or talked to in months. But who else could get inside of Lance’s head like Keith?

So they made a plan. Keith would arrive back on Earth in two weeks on the Saturday before the McClain family dinner they have every Sunday night. And to make sure things wouldn't be too weird or staged, Veronica would also invite Hunk, Shiro and Curtis, and Pidge and Matt as well. It would be great for everyone to be together again anyway.

Saturday Evening.

The day was winding down to something calm and peaceful. Lance decided to get up and spend his day tending to the farm. He cleaned out the barn, fed the chickens, gathered some eggs, milked Kaltenecker and even gave her a nice bath. His family was gone, out for the day running errands, and the quiet wasn’t too loud or suffocating for once. It was surprisingly nice. After the chores were finished, Lance plucked some fresh juniberry flowers for the vase in his room and headed back up the hill to his home.

What he was expecting to see is maybe his family’s truck parked over by the big oak tree just outside his house.

But what he got instead, was a cruiser.

A galra cruiser.

And leaning against said galra cruiser with his arms crossed and a warm smile on his face is the one and only Keith Kogane.

Lance stops breathing as he stares at his old friend. He can’t believe Keith is even here right now, standing 50 feet away. Is this some kind of trick of the sunset? Lance rubs his eyes. Nope. It’s real. A small smile graces Lance’s lips as he takes a deep breath and makes his way over.

As he gets closer, Keith pushes himself off of the cruiser to meet Lance halfway. “Hey there, sharpshooter,” are the first words out of his mouth, his deep voice sending a chill down Lance’s spine.

“K-Keith,” Lance sputters, confusion and excitement pouring through his voice. They’re bodies meet together in a big, warm hug that has the hairs on Lance’s arms standing on end. Keith hugs him like he hasn’t seen him in a long time. And he hasn't. It’s been six and a half months since they last saw each other, or even spoke. Things with The Blade have been so busy that Keith rarely gets a chance to stop by to say hello or even stay a few nights. Of course, communication works both ways and Lance has spoken to him. He’s written Keith a letter for every other day. Yep. They’re all underneath his pillow in his room, ready to be opened and read by Keith eyes. That’s besides the point, he just can’t believe that Keith is HERE!

Lance pulls away, confusion still plastered on his face. Keith pats his shoulder and smiles that genuine, beautiful, once in a full moon smile that has Lance’s heart hammering inside his chest.

“Surprised?” Keith asks, folding his arms over his chest.

Lance reaches out and punches the half galran in his left pec, sending him stumbling back a bit. “Hell yeah I am, dude! W-what are you doing here!?”

“What,” Keith’s smile doesn’t falter as he shrugs. “Can’t a guy come back to earth to see his friends once in a while?”

Lance scoffs. “Uh, once in a while would be like every other week, not six and a half months!”

Keith’s eyes widen. “Shit, has it been that long??”

“Yeah, man.” Lance nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I would know.. been subconsciously counting down the days or.. w-whatever..” A light blush decorates his cheeks and ears as Keith continues to stare at him. Then, he smiles again and weakly punches Lance’s arm. Lance takes a good look at him; tall, muscular, visible stubble decorating his chin and upper lip, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that reaches his shoulder blades. He looks.. good.

“Why don’t we catch up then?” Keith asks with a softness in his voice that has Lance’s already hammering heart going haywire.

“S-sure thing.” Lance can barely meet Keith’s violet eyes as they begin their ascend up the hill to Lance’s home.

They talk on the porch swing until the sun goes down and the bright stars in the sky come up. Keith tells Lance all about how he and The Blade are doing amazing at fulfilling their mission as a humanitarian relief organization and all the planets they’ve helped. Lance listens thoroughly as Keith goes on and on, something about the way Keith’s eyes shine as he talks about his adventures up in space with his mother and Kolivan. It’s almost enough to lull Lance to sleep but he wouldn’t dare miss a second of Keith’s stories. After a while, Lance offers Keith some sandwiches and a few beers, to which he happily accepts, and they eat together in a nice comfortable silence.

“So,” Keith says after a small sip of his beer, “Enough about me. What’s been going on with you?”

Lance picks at his half eaten sandwich and shrugs. “Nothing as amazing as what you’re doing, that’s for sure.”

“Ah, come on,” Keith nudges him gently, “Tell me all about what’s been going on around here? The juniberry’s are looking nice.” He gestures to the open field and Lance exhales a small chuckle.

“Thanks.. I mean, I’ve been.. a-alright..”

Keith studies his face with a slight frown but doesn’t move to say anything as he senses Lance isn’t finished.

“But..” Lance lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. A cool night breeze runs through his hair and he shivers a bit before turning his body to Keith.

“Yeah?” Keith answers, mirroring Lance’s body language.

“It’s been..” Lance stares at his sandwich, “Hard. Still.. like everywhere I look, I expect her to be there but.. she isn’t.. and I feel so..”

Keith watches as Lance sits there, looking down at his hands. He clenches them into fists and then..

He laughs.

A shaky, breathy laugh that has Keith confused as to what is funny.

Lance sniffs and then looks up to meet Keith’s eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m good, man.” He says instead. But the wavering in his voice says otherwise. Keith bites his bottom lip and tries to think of a way to say what he wants without it coming out as something that could push Lance away. Then he remembers all of the stuff Veronica told him about Lance’s health and mental state. Keith does a once over to really look at Lance this time, under the dim porch light. He looks like how Veronica says he might be feeling. Sad. Tired. Lonely. Although he does look good, the chores and things needed to be done around the farm toning up his physique, Keith finally sees the wear and tear the after effects of war has put him through. And it’s not much different than how Keith looks. Or Shiro. Or Hunk or Pidge and even Matt and Coran.

Keith ponders this for a while and then lets out a small breath. “Lance?” He says, voice soft and full of compassion.

Lance looks up and meets him, his hard gaze searching for something in Keith’s irises. Keith smiles shyly and reaches out to grab a hold of Lance’s slender hands. Lance looks down at their hands, studying their similarities and their differences. Keith’s got giant hands that are paler in comparison, but just as callous as Lance’s. They bring him a weird sense of comfort and as he looks up to meet Keith’s eyes once more, tears fill his own.

Panic rises in Keith’s features and he holds Lance’s hands tighter. “Hey, hey,” he says, “W-What's wrong??”

“Nothing, nothing,” Lance shakes his head, exhaling another laugh. “It’s just..” He sniffs, trying his hardest to blink away his tears. “You.”

“Me??” Keith shakes his head. “What did I-”

“You being here,” Lance cuts him off, looking up to stare into Keith’s eyes. “I’m really happy.. happiest I’ve been in a while.. I know that things got super busy and we have our own lives now, but I’m sorry that we kinda.. fell off. I’ve missed you. I do.. miss you.”

Keith’s pulse jumps as his ears eat Lance’s words, syllable by syllable. Those watery blue eyes are boring into Keith so hard, Keith feels like he could sink into them and would be totally okay with it. So he reaches forward and cups Lance’s cheek, moving closer to his face. He presses his forehead to Lance’s and very quietly breathes-

“I’ve missed you too, Lance,” He smiles, “So much. I think of you everyday and the one thing that keeps me going is you.”

“What, little ole’ me?” Lance says in a horrible southern accent that has the both of them giggling. Keith nods and rubs his thumb over Lance’s Altean mark.

“All of you,” Keith whispers, leaning forward to place a small, chaste kiss to Lance’s mark. It has Lance blushing like crazy and his Altean markings glowing bright between them. His emotions get the better of him and he lets his tears fall down his cheeks as he nuzzles his forehead against Keith’s, swallowing a sob threatening to pour out of his throat.

“Can you please just.. hold me..?” Lance asks, watery eyes locked with Keith’s.

And Keith damn near melts. “Of course.” He answers as Lance moves closer to his opened arms. He lays his head on Keith’s shoulder, slotting it perfectly in the junction of where Keith’s shoulder and neck meet, and sighs blissfully.

“I’m so tired.” He whispers.

“Sleep, Lance,” Keith whispers back, kissing his head. “Sleep.”

Lance nods, closing his eyes. “Guess this means you’re staying for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Don’t forget breakfast and lunch, too,” Keith says, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on Lance's temple. “If you’ll have me.”

“I would love that.” And when Lance finally drifts off to a peaceful sleep, his eyes catch sight of the light that bounces off of his cheeks. It’ll take a while but for tonight, he doesn’t mind the bright, buzzing, tingling feeling of his Altean markings. Not anymore.

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt!)

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

*

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the  world.  

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

*

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”  

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”  

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far  Chloe  went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.

[miracleonice87]

juliaswinterwriting challenge, pt. 2

1. “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” with Mathew Barzal

a/n: finally! my second of two submissions for @wondershawns winter writing challenge. 6.6K. also features Mat’s boyfriend Beau lol. 

summary: Mat has been falling for Beau’s cousin Genevieve since the day he met her. the main thing standing in his way? her. 

warnings: swearing. alcohol. a smattering of angst. mentions of sex (not explicit). a healthy dose of fluff.

_____

Mat couldn’t have heard his best friend correctly. Convinced of that, he shook his head and tried to snap himself out of his stupor.

“Wait, Beau… what?”

“Yeah, Genevieve’s moving in with me,” Beau repeated casually, slapping a puck into the back of the net. “Finally convinced her. She just broke up with that idiot and she’s gonna go to NYU.”

The guys were on the ice at the practice facility for the first time since arriving back in New York after a long summer. They were conducting an informal skate to get their feet under them again, but most of the time had been spent simply catching up with one another — shooting pucks, yes, but also shooting the breeze. Mat had enjoyed the laidback nature of the on-ice session thus far, but he felt an undeniable jolt of electricity in his every nerve when Beau said that name — the one that elicited a thousand different feelings all at once.

Genevieve.

The girl who shared her cousin Beau’s big blue eyes and endless charm, but had a sassy wit and tender heart all of her own. The girl who was more like his teammate’s sister than a more distant relative. The girl who Mat had fallen for the very first day he met her, when Beau invited him to his family home in Quebec for a visit, now three summers ago. The girl who he’d been hopelessly, helplessly entranced by ever since.

Suddenly, a rubber disc was flying at Mat’s feet, the product of Marty dishing him a pass from the opposite side of the zone, expecting Mat to tap it into the goal as they’d already done a dozen times that afternoon. Instead, Mat let it whiz past him, only giving the puck so much as a glance when it bounced off the half-wall.

“Barzy!” Marty yelled from the far boards with a surprised chuckle, smacking his blade on the ice repeatedly. “Fuckin’ pay attention, kid!”

“You hockey much?” Beau teased, furrowing his brows at his teammate’s blank expression. Beau thought to himself that it looked as though Mat had just seen a ghost. “What’s’a matter with you?”

Mat turned to see Marty, Beau, Ebs, and Anders all looking at him as if he were a creature from a different planet. He cleared his throat and hunched once more overtop his skates, gliding in a tight circle before he faced them again.

“Nothin’,” he said nonchalantly, with a sniff. He put his stick to the ice and readied himself, trying to push Beau’s revelation to the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand. “Let’s go again.”

“Wait,” Marty said, putting a gloved hand up to halt the skating men around him. “I forgot. Isn’t Barzy, like, in love with that girl?”

Beau slowly turned his head toward Mat, who swallowed hard, trying to will his cheeks not to redden. Anders and Ebs chuckled, hands resting atop the knobs of their sticks.

“Shut up, Marty,” Mat nearly pleaded, anxiously tapping his stick on the ice. “Just... let’s go again. Come on.”

_____

In the three years since they’d first met, the math broke down pretty simply: Genevieve had had a boyfriend for all of those three years, until a month ago; Mat had kissed her exactly once on the forehead after putting her drunk ass to bed during a weekend visit to Beau’s; and they had made exactly zero progress toward becoming what Mat had always wanted them to be. Together.

One more number was soon added to the equation, not long after she moved to the city — the number one. Sponsored by the number of times they’d now had sex.

Genevieve’s twenty-first birthday fell right after she started at NYU as a junior transfer, when the Isles boys had just started camp. After a night at the club celebrating her, in a vodka-induced haze, with Tito’s attention wrapped up in a pretty blonde, Mat and Genevieve snuck away from the group, into an Uber, and off to his apartment in Brooklyn.

Mat realized immediately that he’d never felt a high like the one he did when she was kissing him, and he chased it all night long. He lost himself in her in every way as they melded together between his sheets.

He truly thought that her birthday was going to be the start of something between them. Something real. More than just a childish crush, stolen glances, and timid, blushing stares.

Which is why his heart broke when he awoke the next morning, after their passionate night gave way to dawn and the effects of the alcohol had faded, to hear Genevieve speaking quietly on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I went home with someone... No, you don’t know him. Just a guy from class.”

Mat felt a tightness in his throat and tried to swallow it.

“Shut up, Anth,” Genevieve said with a lighthearted groan.

Shit. Of course it was Beau.

“Brunch? Uh... yeah. Yeah, I can do brunch. I just have to come back to your place and change first... No, no, I’ll just grab an Uber. Yes, I’m sure.”

She was leaving. She was trying to sneak out of his place, while he was presumably still asleep. Despite that, pathetic as he felt for it, he didn’t want her to go. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Genevieve ran a hand through her dark locks and blew out a long breath.

“Who was that?” Mat muttered in a sleepy voice, making Genevieve jump. Despite trying to ignore it, he couldn’t help but notice the way she pulled his sheets tighter around her naked body at the realization that he was, indeed, awake. His chest clenched at the sight. Genevieve cleared her throat, stalling, before answering.

“That was Anth,” she said, tossing her phone on the bed in front of her. Mat watched the way her bare spine hunched as she sighed and then looked at him over her freckled shoulder. It took everything in Mat not to lean over and pepper her soft skin with warm kisses.

“He wants to go to brunch. The three of us. He’s gonna text you and invite you. He doesn’t know I’m here...” she spoke, wringing her fingers.

“Okay,” Mat said quietly, sitting up on an elbow. “Well, I’ll drive you back to his place—“

“No, no. I’m just gonna order an Uber,” she said hastily, followed by another long sigh. He wrinkled his brow, confused.

“We can’t tell him, Mat,” Genevieve said sadly, tossing him a forlorn glance, her fingers pressing into her temple. “We just... I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart broke a bit right then. In his mind, they would admit the truth about last night to Beau this morning, he would chirp them about it endlessly but be happy that they were happy, and they would all live happily ever after.

Evidently, Genevieve had different plans.

“So I’m gonna go, and then you can meet us at the cafe. Okay?” she asked, turning to face him straight on, seemingly so that he saw as little of her nude form as possible, despite having seen all of it last night.

Mat nodded, swallowing again. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about the Uber. He was referencing something much more consequential than her ride home.

Genevieve pressed her lips together, looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. She nodded slowly.

“I just... I don’t think this is a good idea, Maty. I just got out of a relationship, and I don’t know how Anth would feel about...” She gestured between the two of them. Mat tried not to flinch, though he nearly did just that.

He nodded. Genevieve noted the pain in his eyes and averted her own to avoid being crushed by the knowledge that she had singlehandedly inflicted it upon him. Eventually, he found his voice again.

“Okay. Fine. I understand, I guess. I think you know how I feel about you, especially now, but it’s... it’s whatever you wanna do, G,” Mat said.

Genevieve blinked at him a few times, and for a fleeting moment as she opened her mouth, he thought she might change her mind.

His hopes crashed down in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably under the covers and requested, “Can you maybe just... look away while I get dressed?”

That time, Mat flinched.

_____

Mat couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw who was calling as he made his way home from the rink after practice on a snowy Monday nearly three months later, in early December. He pressed the green button on his dash display, said hello, and her fluttering voice filled his car.

“Mat… hi! Are you busy?”

Even if he were, Mat would’ve lied.

“No, no, not at all. What’s going on, G? How are you?” he asked as he switched lanes, fingers suddenly drumming on the steering wheel as nervous energy coursed through him.

Since the morning after they’d hooked up, the most they had communicated directly was texting half a dozen or so times, with Genevieve congratulating Mat on a good game or Mat asking if she knew where Beau was. Occasionally they’d bump into each other after a game, the ones she could actually make it to given her insane class schedule, or at the bar, and they’d both hug awkwardly and inevitably blush like schoolchildren. Mat missed her like hell, and he gently reminded her of that each time they touched base, but he respected her decision, even if he wasn’t fully convinced it was the right one.

Little did he know, Genevieve wasn’t fully convinced, either, but she willed herself to stand her ground, despite the sway he still held over her, without him even realizing it.

“I’m good. I’m good. Listen, um, I know this probably seems out of the blue, but… would you wanna meet up for coffee?” he heard her ask.

Mat’s brows shot up at her inquiry. He had long ago written off any chance at spending alone time with her and was caught off guard by her invitation.

“Sure,” Mat answered, though somewhat hesitantly. “I’d love to, you know that.”

She must have heard the surprise in his voice because she followed up with, “It’s just, I really miss you… and besides, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Mat couldn’t keep the smug expression from his face. “Oh yeah? Other than just how much you miss me?” he asked arrogantly. He could practically hear Genevieve roll her eyes as she huffed into the phone.

“Just shut up and come here, you egomaniac,” she giggled. “I’m at my usual spot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in fifteen. See you then. And, G?”

“Uh huh?”

A smile twitched at Mat’s lips as he replied.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, sincerity dripping from his words.

He heard the smile in her voice when she remarked, “I’m glad you answered. See you soon.”

_____

When Mat walked into the coffee shop minutes later, Genevieve was holed up at a corner table, notebooks and loose papers alike strung before her in a mass of organized chaos. She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip and squinted at her laptop screen through her thick, tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Mat had never seen her wearing glasses before. Though he didn’t even think such a feat was possible, he fell a little more in love with her and became a little more tortured by her right then and there.

He approached her slowly so as not to startle her. As he came nearer, she didn’t even look up, deep in concentration as she typed. When she finally glanced away from her screen and toward a notebook across the table from her, Mat playfully crouched into her line of vision, tilting his chin upward as he waited for her to spot him.

Eventually, her eyes met his and immediately glimmered. She flushed slightly, putting her hand to her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, god, Maty, how long have you been standing there?” Genevieve asked, an apology in her tone.

Mat smiled and tried not to dwell on the way his pulse quickened when his nickname fell from her lips. “Long enough to observe that you might need your glasses prescription changed. You’re not supposed to squint at your screen like that, G,” he warned, approaching her and scanning the multitude of documents before her. “What is all this?” he asked, letting his gaze drift back to hers.

“It’s for my event this weekend. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Genevieve responded tentatively. “But first, coffee,” she said, reaching for her wallet tucked inside her bookbag.

Mat reached for her hand, pushing it away and shaking his head.

“No, c’mon,” he insisted. “Let me. What can I get you?”

Genevieve looked at their touching fingers as he slowly pulled his away, then she gave him that killer half-grin of hers and breathed a sigh, giving into him since she knew trying to protest was useless.

“How ‘bout a peppermint tea? I think I’m overcaffeinated at this point anyway so I should probably take it easy on the coffee,” she admitted with a chuckle as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Mat nodded.

“Smart girl. Tea coming right up,” he promised with a squeeze of her shoulder. Genevieve thanked him and watched as he sauntered to the counter to stand in line.

His hair was longer, and she thought it made him look even more handsome, if that was even imaginable. He caught her ogling at him as he turned the corner to wait for his order, and she simply pursed her lips into a tight smirk and tried to refocus on her notes. He tried to refocus on anything but her. They both were clumsy in their attempts.

When he returned, he placed a large paper cup before her and she wrapped her hands around it with an appreciative hum.

“You’re the best,” Genevieve praised. He waved her off as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So why have I been summoned here, G?” Mat then asked, teasing in his question.

Genevieve bit at her full bottom lip and Mat tried to force his eyes not to linger there as she snapped her notebook shut and readjusted herself in her chair, clearing her throat.

“Okay, so you know I’m taking this event planning class this semester? It’s part of my major. And our final project is to plan a large-scale event,” she began, and he nodded as he sipped at his coffee, amused by her bubbly mannerisms as she spoke. “Well, so… a friend of mine in class kind of accidentally let slip that I’m Anthony’s cousin, and it turns out that the prof is friends with some Isles execs. She suggested that I plan a gala to benefit the team children’s foundation, and obviously since the professor fed me that idea, I couldn’t really say no. Especially since it’s 50 percent of my final grade, and obviously because it’s for such a great cause.” Mat nodded again, already seeing where this was going, but not exactly minding it.

“So since you guys don’t play this Saturday night, Anth had originally told me that he would go and kinda be the face of the team for me, but he backed out this morning,” Genevieve said, playing absentmindedly with her fingers in her lap. Mat was getting ready to take another swig when she added that last little tidbit, and he narrowed his eyes at her as he lowered his cup.

“What do you mean he backed out? What the hell else does he have to do?” Mat didn’t try to hide his annoyance — Beau had practically begged this poor girl to come and live with him and go to school in New York, and now he was jeopardizing her academic future?

“I don’t know,” Genevieve shrugged. “He said some girl he’s been talking to bought him tickets to the Nets game on Saturday night and he—“

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me...” Mat spat, then noticed the disappointment in her features, and immediately softened. “So, what can I do to help?” he asked, deciding that he would deal with the Beau issue later.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, and drew a deep breath as she summoned the courage to make her request.

“I was wondering if... if you’d go with me?” she eventually mumbled.

Mat was certain he had misheard, just like that day months ago on the ice. He licked his bottom lip quickly and sat back in his chair.

“Say again?” he deadpanned.

“I was wondering if you’d come with me,” Genevieve spoke, clearer and faster this time. “I know I don’t even deserve to ask you a favor like that, and you probably already have plans anyway, and I—“

“G, stop,” Mat interrupted dryly.

“It’s not like you’re my second choice or anything,” Genevieve continued, talking with her hands just like Beau did when he got flustered. “I wanted to ask you — really, I did. Trust me. It’s just… I was afraid Anth would be weird so—“

“G, stop,” Mat laughed, his voice firmer this time as his hand moved to rest on her knee. “I don’t need an explanation. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d be honored.”

Genevieve finally exhaled, throwing her hands over her face in sheer excitement and shaking her head back and forth.

“Ugh, Mathew Barzal, I could kiss you right now!” she exclaimed before she could pay a second thought to her words. She covered her mouth then, eyes bugging behind her glasses. Mat couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he quipped softly as he raised his coffee to his lips once more, smirking pompously at Genevieve as she breathed a laugh.

As she launched into the details of the event — what he should wear, what she would need from him, when he could pick her up — he found himself spacing. No detail she shared much mattered to him — not really. It didn’t affect his decision. No matter what this would cost him, literally or figuratively, he was all in.

All in on the gala, all in on Genevieve. All in.

She was letting him in, however little, and he planned to take full advantage of the opportunity. 

Mat insisted on giving Genevieve a ride to Beau’s apartment after they’d finished their drinks, convincing her that she needed to take a break from working and get a change of scenery. Surprisingly, she complied. He realized as she sat in his passenger seat just how much he had missed the way he felt in her presence. The world seemed to be in full color only when Genevieve was by his side.

Sadly, the drive was a short one, and soon Genevieve was hurriedly pulling her bookbag into her lap as Mat pulled over to the curb near the building’s entrance. Preparing for her to jump out of the car without giving him a second look, Mat was surprised when he felt her fingertips grasp his jaw. She placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, closer to his mouth than could be called chaste, and smoothed her thumb across the stubble on his chin.

“I really have to go, even though I don’t want to, but thanks a million, Maty,” Genevieve said, beaming at him as she pulled the straps of her bag onto her shoulders. “I can’t wait for this weekend. Bye.”

With that, she was scampering off, throwing him one last smile before disappearing through the doorway.

With a pursed exhale, Mat rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to talk himself down from the clusterfuck his brain had just launched into at her actions.

_____

The week dragged on for Mat. When Saturday finally arrived, he took far longer than usual to get ready, even FaceTiming his sister for her recommendations on the best tie and shoe combination to match his navy suit.

When Liana furrowed her eyebrows, curious why he cared so much about what he wore to what seemed to her to be a fairly routine team event, Mat knew what was coming and braced for it as she opened her mouth.

“Is this like a date or something—“

“Goodbye, Liana. Thank you,” Mat said curtly, cutting her off and quickly ending the call. Of course, it rang again immediately, but Mat chose to ignore it and tucked the device in his pocket as he gave himself one last glance in the mirror.

When the phone rang yet again, he huffed, prepared to answer and then immediately hang up on his dear, annoying baby sister, when he noticed it wasn’t Liana this time.

Stepping into his closet to choose an overcoat, he smiled and tapped the green button.

“Don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me now, G,” Mat said, half in jest, half in masked terror. “I just got dressed.”

To his dismay, Genevieve sounded panicked on the other end of the line.

“Uh, no, quite the opposite, actually,” she said nervously. “I’m kind of — okay, well, completely — freaking out over here, and I was wondering if you could maybe come over early and convince me not to call my professor and tell her I’m sick so I don’t have to see what a complete disaster this night turns out to be?”

Mat had pulled on a coat and flicked off the lights in his closet while she was talking, and he shifted the phone to his other ear to respond once she stopped rambling.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “I’m leaving now. Sit tight. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Mat heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Maty,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His smile widened — he was always happy to play the role of knight in shining armor, but it meant more to him to be able to play it for Genevieve. His chest puffed with each word of her gratitude.

“You’re welcome, love,” he said before he realized the pet name that fell from his lips. But he couldn’t regret it, refused to even try, so he bid her goodbye for now and headed for the parking garage to ride away on his white stallion — er, Cadillac.

Ten minutes later — after navigating a route that should have taken at least fifteen — he was on her doorstep, the dozen red roses he had bought that morning in hand. Mat tried to act as though he wasn’t surprised to find her still in a set of Beau’s Isles sweats, donning her glasses, with her makeup half-finished and her hair not yet fixed. He glanced at the clock above her head that indicated only about forty minutes until they needed to leave the apartment, but decided to ignore that minor detail.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mat said charmingly, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you. For good luck.”

Genevieve’s lips turned up momentarily into a grin, then folded into a frown, and she looked as though she may burst into tears at any moment. Forcing his way in the door, Mat set the bouquet on the entry table and gathered her into his chest, resting a hand on the back of her head and rubbing small circles on her back with the other.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “What’s goin’ on, G? Talk to me, baby.” Oh, shit. Another pet name. He really had to stop doing that.

Genevieve seemed unaffected by the term, though, and drew a shaking breath before squeezing his waist tightly and stepping away.

“Everything! This event is gonna crash and burn and it’s all my fault,” she cried, flinging her hands skyward for dramatic effect.

“What do you mean?” Mat inquired. “And while we talk, why don’t we go to your room so you can keep getting ready?” he added, placing a gentle hand to her hip. Thankfully, she nodded, despite heaving a sigh. As he turned them down the hall, she let her swirling thoughts erupt.

“The caterer called an hour ago and said they didn’t put in an order big enough for tonight so they’re gonna have to supplement the food with basically whatever they can find,” Genevieve began as they entered her room, motioning for Mat to take a seat on her meticulously made bed, which felt far more intimate than he was prepared for, not that he was complaining. She sat on the vanity bench nearby and hurriedly applied eyeshadow to her lids, prattling all the while. As she spoke, Mat glanced down at the dress laid out on the foot of the bed on a hanger, and he swore he forgot his own name for a moment as he gaped at it blankly.

“And I specifically ordered peonies, not poppies. Like how the fuck does a florist mess that up! I just—“

“Wait, sorry to interrupt, but this is what you’re wearing?” Mat choked out, sliding the shiny fabric between his first two fingers and thumb. Genevieve nodded, hurriedly fastening on a pearl cluster earring smack dab in the midst of her blush and bronzer routine.

“Yeah, Anthony insisted on taking me shopping and made me buy the most expensive goddamn dress in the store for some reason,” she grumbled. Mat made a mental note to thank Beau profusely. “I told him I couldn’t accept it but — wait, why? You hate it, don’t you?”

Mat’s eyes bugged at her question before he swallowed hard, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, it’s just... you’re gonna look so unfair,” he chuckled. Genevieve gave him a disbelieving look.

“Hardly,” she disagreed, apparently not noticing how gone he was at the moment. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what I wear because it’s going to be an absolute shit show.”

She threw a fluffy brush into her makeup caddy with a clatter, and Mat approached where she sat fussing over herself anxiously in the mirror. She couldn’t help but notice the way her breath caught in her throat when his long fingers came to rest on her shoulders, stretching to her collarbone as he gazed at her intensely in their reflection. She felt herself relax under his touch.

“I know you’ve convinced yourself of that,” Mat began, his voice low, slow, sincere. “And that probably nothing I say will change your mind. But even if the food is wrong and the flowers are wrong and it doesn’t look exactly how you pictured it, it’s still gonna be a success. Because you made it happen. And you’re the most organized, most dedicated, hardest-working person I know,” he said as she finished applying her lipstick and sat up straight with a long, calming breath.

“And you’re the sweetest person I know,” she admitted airily. Mat beamed, squeezing her trap muscles. “Thank you,” she added, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips, their eyes never straying from one another’s in the mirror until she stood up to face him.

He threw her hair over her shoulders and gawked at the perfect placement of her makeup, however much she had rushed its application.

“Makeup,” Mat spoke, drawing a pretend v-shape in thin air. “Check. One thing at a time.”

She snickered a bit, her hands ghosting across his suit coat for a moment, enchanted, before she snapped back to the task at hand.

“Okay, I have to go curl my hair, and then get dressed. And then, I’m ready,” she promised as Mat nodded and slowly returned to his seat on her bed. As she pulled a pair of strappy heels from underneath the bedskirt, he smiled down at her so fondly, and she realized she wouldn’t mind having him sitting right here more often.

Certainly wouldn’t mind.

She tossed Mat a wink as she picked up the dress, too, and hustled into the bathroom, suddenly feeling much more confident than she had without his presence — his reassurance.

Fifteen minutes later, after chattering with Mat through the door while taming her hair, she pulled on the dress and smoothed her hands over the skirt of it, tugged on her heels, and pulled open the door.

Mat stopped abruptly in the middle of a story about razzing her cousin at practice and stood to his feet, neither moving an inch.

Finally, Genevieve sighed and motioned toward her attire.

“So?” she spoke simply. “Acceptable?”

Mat scoffed, literally scoffed, and repeated, “Acceptable?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and couldn’t help the boyish giggle he let out. “More than acceptable, G. You look... wow. Incredible. So incredible.”

Genevieve could admit to herself that she was pleased with his reaction — in fact, she couldn’t quite seem to detach her eyes from his face as his stare roamed her figure. She leaned against the doorpost and smirked.

“Remember what I said earlier this week? About how I could just kiss you right now?” she asked mischievously. He nodded slowly, eyes still studying the way her dress pulled tight in exactly the right places, then finding their way back to hers. “Kinda feeling that way again right now,” she added.

He exhaled sharply, standing up straighter, as she took a couple of paces toward him.

“Is that so?” he teased. She nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Mat hummed in anticipation as she came ever closer. “You sure about that?” he asked firmly, extending his arms with his palms out toward her, trying his damnedest to keep her at a distance.

She only nodded again, a gleam in her eye, and paused just a couple of feet from him, waiting for his approval.

“Take another step looking like that and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Mat warned, giving her one final out.

A small laugh passed through Genevieve’s nose, and she looked down at their feet as she daringly moved forward.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispered as she looked back to his face. Mat only quirked his brow in response.

“I think it’s time I focus less on pushing you away, and more on just…” Genevieve tenderly wrapped her arms around Mat’s neck. “Just finally letting things happen the way they’re supposed to,” she spoke.

Mat froze for a moment, then broke into an enormous grin. “Yeah?” he asked in awe.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded, driving him insane. He pressed her lower back into his body as she assured, “Yeah. This is what I want.”

Mat barely let her speak that last word before capturing her lips in a searing kiss — all the nerves and anxiety about avoiding this melting away in a heartbeat as she moaned softly into his mouth, eliciting a smile from him against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, G,” Mat whispered when he finally came up for air. “You know that?” Genevieve blushed and tried to hide her face in Mat’s chest, but with a roll of his eyes, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger and angled her face toward his own.

“No, none of that,” he said. “I’ve waited this long to be with you, G. Just let me look at you and tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Mat felt the warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them with the backs of his hands, losing himself in her criminally blue eyes.

“You are something else, Maty,” she said, letting her hands rest on his taut stomach as she leaned into him. “Now we really have to go, or we’re gonna be late.” With one last kiss pressed against his lips, Genevieve spun away from him, grabbed the pearl clutch from her bed, and tossed him a particularly wicked glance over her shoulder, laughing at his dumbfounded expression as she drifted out of the room.

And as he watched her walk away from him, hips swaying beneath the satin of her dress...

Mat knew he had no choice but to follow wherever she led.

_____

Whether she was aware of it or not, the girl knew how to command a room.

As Mat watched Genevieve engage the many high-profile sponsors and potential donors in the ballroom, he found himself thinking that he really didn’t even need to be here. She had this in the bag, and he was just arm candy for the night. And he realized he didn’t mind a bit.

Even so, he couldn’t help but swell with pride when she regularly turned away from conversations throughout the evening, searching the many faces in the crowd until she found his, her shoulders relaxing and her eyes flashing with affection when she finally did.

Finally, Mat sensed that the peace he had long ago found in her, she now felt in him. Nothing could ever make him happier than that.

Despite having different food and flowers than what Genevieve had planned, the event was a smashing success. She learned from her professor near the end of the gala that they had raised a quarter of a million dollars for the Islanders Children’s Foundation in this single night — a figure which made her nearly choke on her champagne and subsequently back Mat into a coat closet to reveal privately. Only he was more excited about the triumph than she, clutching excitedly at her sides as he pulled her to himself for a fiery kiss and gleefully congratulated her, both of them trying to stay as quiet as possible to remain undetected. When they regained their composure, they walked regally arm in arm back into the ballroom to say their thank you’s and goodbyes.

As they waited outside for the valet, Mat held Genevieve from behind, his arms encircling her waist under the grand stone archways of the old building. In her ear, he whispered her praises, pressing a kiss to her temple or jaw between each adjective as they awaited their ride.

“Smart. Beautiful. Capable. Stunning. Perfect. Worthy. Mine.”

That last one prompted her to spin in his arms, unashamed of who might see, and grasp his face for a firm kiss.

“Yours,” she whispered back dreamily.

_____

Soon they were back at her apartment building, rushing down the hall hand in hand, fully prepared to take advantage of Beau’s night on the town. Mat was mouthing hungrily at the back of Genevieve’s neck, from one side to the other, as she squealed and clumsily unlocked the door — a feat which took approximately five times as long as it normally did, considering the distraction hanging off of her, snaking its long arms around her torso as she finally tumbled through the doorway. Mat held onto her hips with a laugh to prevent her from falling on her face onto the tile beneath them, pulling her upward to resume their makeout until…

“Don’t you two look cute.”

Beau’s voice rang from the couch, startling both Mat and Genevieve as she pushed him away to create some distance between them. Mat cleared his throat as he unceremoniously gathered his footing beneath him. They both stood motionless in the entryway for several moments before Genevieve blinked at the basketball game playing on the television.

“Wait. What the hell, Anth… you’re watching the Nets game on TV? What happened to your date?” Genevieve asked as she took a few steps into the living room, tossing her clutch onto the couch so that she could put both hands on her hips and aim as much attitude as possible at her cousin.

“Yeah, I lied about that. The Nets are in Boston tonight, you geniuses,” Anthony informed them casually, taking the last swig from his beer bottle and placing it on the coffee table as he leaned forward.

“What do you mean, you lied? What the fuck, man?” Mat asked, incredulous.

“I did it on purpose!” Anthony bellowed, before the two gaped at him. “You two goons haven’t figured it out on your own by now, so I figured if I ditched, forced you into some alone time, bought G a pretty dress, maybe you’d see yourselves for what you really are. Hopelessly, disgustingly in love with each other. And apparently, it worked.”

Mat ran a hand slowly through his hair, tugging on his locks with a quiet laugh. Genevieve stood still, a hand suspended in mid-air, and whispered, “You planned this?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Of course I planned this,” he confirmed. “You really think I would just bail on you at the last minute for some girl? No! I knew you’d ask Mat, and I knew he would come to your rescue, and I knew you guys would have a great night together. Win, win, win.” Anthony rested his back against the couch once more, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his hands behind his head as he waggled his eyebrows. “I’m good, huh?” he remarked.

Mat took four quick strides toward his best friend and made a show of grabbing Anthony’s face and pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his forehead, which Anthony giggled over and wiped away, shaking his head.

“You’re my hero, man,” Mat spoke as he returned to Genevieve’s side and tucked her beneath his arm. Timidly, Genevieve asked Anthony, “You mean you’re not mad?”

Anthony’s big eyes grew even wider. “Mad?! My best friend and practically my sister are finally making each other happy. I’d be crazy to be mad! Or I’d be the Grinch. And I’m not the Grinch!” he assured as he pointed towards them.

Genevieve beamed, walking his way and placing a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm.

“Merci beaucoup,” she whispered when she pulled back from his face, only to see that he was smiling from ear to ear. He gave her a solemn nod. 

Genevieve extended a hand toward Mat which he accepted gladly, then she turned back to her cousin.

“Well, on that note, since your plan was such a success, and so was my event, Mat and I are gonna go celebrate,” she informed him with a grin. Anthony chuckled and lifted his beer bottle in their direction.

“Cheers to that,” he said. “I’ll just turn up the volume.”

Mat and Genevieve laughed and said goodnight before making their way down the hall. Mat couldn’t close the door fast enough before spinning her and pinning her against it as she smirked, her form melting into his as he kissed her fiercely. For several minutes they stayed there as one, with their parting lips and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Soon, Mat pulled back, both his hands holding Genevieve’s face as he searched her eyes.

“Promise me this is really what you want, G. Promise me you won’t push me away again,” he implored, his voice sounding needier than it ever had. Genevieve felt the stab at her gut upon remembering once more that she’d really almost fucked this up.

She sifted her fingers through his long, coal black hair of his and looked into his green-flecked eyes, which begged her for reassurance. Mat swallowed thickly as she cupped his strong jaw.

“I promise I won’t, Mathew,” she whispered. “I won’t. I can’t. I need you.”

With that, she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers and smothered his lips with her own. Mat tasted the sweet champagne on her skin and moaned.

“Mine,” he said again, gruffly this time, into her ear as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw.

“Yours,” she repeated breathlessly.

[sadclearance]

M!reader and hanta sero! toxic toxic manipulative reunion after breakup

how the #26 hero made headlines with his sex tape

pairing: hanta sero x male manipulative reader

summary: hanta sero and y/n meet again after their sex tape is leaked.

warning: sex tape (sero fucking you), manipulative and toxic behavior, implied/referenced past cheating, suicide attemptish, implied/referenced revenge porn

category: angst(?), fluff(?) idrk 

word count: 4300

"and then the fucking cashier asked to take a picture!" katsuki bakugo seethed. "i just wanted to get my damn groceries, but everyone's so damn nosy!"

"at least they asked?" mina ashido said, her voice pitched at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"don't even get me started on the fucking stalkers that don't ask," bakugo growled.

"i don't know how you can live like that," hanta sero laughed at bakugo's misery. "sounds terrible."

is this karma for being amused by bakugo's misfortunes?

the day immediately after, sero is scanning his items after getting everything he needs from the grocery store when the cashier stares at him with wide eyes, glancing between him and the phone in their hand.

"are you cellophane?"

is this what having fans feels like? it's kind of flattering but also annoying that he's being called his hero name during his off time.

"oh, yeah," sero responds with a light laugh, trying to stay polite.

he expects them to ask for a picture or maybe an autograph. what he doesn't expect is snickering.

he vaguely remembers how denki kaminari described being recognized in public for the first time. he was met with taunts from a group of students because a video of him short circuiting had just gone viral.

sero's quirk doesn't even have any drawbacks similar to short circuiting, so he can't think of a possible reason why his cashier would be laughing at him.

he ignores it and finishes checking out because he doesn't want to ask what's wrong with the other person.

when he gets back to his apartment complex, he checks his mail. there's a few bills and postcards from old friends.

the guy next to him bursts out laughing.

he closes his mailbox and gives him a questioning look. that just made it two people that have laughed at him in the past thirty minutes. what's going on?

"you're cellophane, right?"

"uh, yeah?" sero says, completely confused.

"just don't be too loud in this building," the guy says, apparently cracking himself up.

sero is still puzzled. he's been the perfect tenant. the loudest noise that's ever come from his apartment was the merciless explosions from bakugo directed toward kaminari after a particularly bad joke, but that happened two years ago. ever since then, the most that could be heard was maybe kaminari's laughter, but sero doubts that that was even that loud.

when he reaches his floor and opens the door of his apartment, he's greeted with his friends on the couch.

"oh, hey," sero says, shutting the front door with his foot and going toward the kitchen to start organizing his groceries. "i told you guys to start warning me before you come. do i have to start hiding my spare key?"

"we know what you're doing, sero," ashido frowns.

okay, something's up. the pink hero isn't using her normal teasing or upbeat tone, and the television isn't even on.

"what?" sero looks at her with the same expression he wore toward the guy who told him not to be too loud.

"you did this last time, bro," eijiro kirishima gives a disapproving look. "i thought we made it clear back then that we're here for you."

what is kirishima going on about? "last time"? well, sero knows what he's talking about because of the whole "here for you" part. of course he remembers. it was a prominent part of his life because it only happened once, during a time in his life he remembers too well.

see, sero is an easy-going guy. out of everybody in the group, he's probably the most stable.

i mean, ashido is a party animal that drags the group out to upbeat bars at least once a month even when she would do a hundred things she'd regret the next morning. it's not like they didn't like doing it, but she definitely needed supervision.

then, there's kaminari. he's an emotional mess, getting caught up in too many confusing flirty situations. each week, he would have a breakdown in the group chat. "so do you guys think me and x are really flirting? or is this like joke flirting?"

can't forget about kirishima. he's probably the second most stable, but he still has a lot of times where he needs reassurance and comfort.

last but definitely not least, bakugo--the emotionally constipated man who is only the tiniest bit better at communicating his emotions than he was in their first year together.

too long, didn't read: four out of five of the group needed someone to depend on at least once a month.

sero is the one person in their group that didn't necessarily need anybody. this isn't because he keeps shit to himself. he's just fortunate enough to not have any problems that aren't surface level. the most he has to deal with are minor inconveniences like running out of toilet paper, running into a villain on his off day, or getting puked on by ashido on a particularly wild night--nothing that emotionally tears him apart.

well, there was this one time about three years ago when he felt the worst that he ever had before. it was a terrible experience of heartbreak and self-hatred which is why he unfortunately remembers it so well. he kept it all to himself until his friends managed to eventually force it out of him, hence the "we're here for you".

but there is absolutely no reason for them to say "last time" as if it's happening again.

"what are you guys talking about? everyone's being so weird today."

"oh my god," kaminari's jaw falls. "do you seriously not know, or are you pretending like you're okay again?"

"not know what?" today is a day of questions, and he doesn't like it one bit.

"do you not check your fucking phone or something?" bakugo growls with annoyance and the slightest hint of shock. the slight gentleness of his volume gets sero incredibly worried.

"i haven't had time to. why? what's going on?"

the four look at each other, considering if they should enlighten sero on whatever it is.

when sero determines they're taking too long to decide, he takes out his phone from his pocket.

at first, he sees a bunch of text notifications from almost all of his old classmates and coworkers, all asking in various ways if he's okay.

he moves past them and searches up his hero name. what could be so bad that his friends expect him to go back to being as much of a concerning mess as he was the last time they spoke to him like this? he doubts that anything could make him as bad as he was after his breakup with his high school sweetheart.

oh... well, he can admit that seeing his name with a link from an adult video website being the top result and under "trending" doesn't make him feel that great, but he doesn't think that it's that bad.

"there's a video on pornhub with my name on it. is it like a really messed up cosplay of me or something?" sero asks, partially joking. "because if it is, i don't really care, guys. you don't have to worry about stuff like that. i know what it means to be known by the world, and that there are creeps out there that get off to--"

"shut the fuck up and watch the damn video," bakugo scowls.

"you want me to watch porn in front of you?" sero raises an eyebrow, slightly amused--a feeling that clearly isn't being reciprocated by any of the four that are staring at him.

"just watch it," kirishima sighs.

he clicks on it, even if he thinks it's a little weird that his friends want to watch him watch porn. maybe it's so bad that it's funny. he's expecting some weirdo to be wearing a poor version of his hero costume getting bukkaked or something weird like that.

all amusement leaves his body, and his confused smile drops.

it's not some weirdo wearing a knock off cellophane costume. he's greeted with a screen covered by him. wearing nothing.

it's not even the fact that his nude body is exposed on the internet to be shown to anybody and everybody that causes the pit in his stomach. it's because he recognizes the video. he knows what happens in it. he knows who's in it.

he doesn't stop watching as giggling from his phone fills the awkwardly silent room. soon enough, the nineteen year old sero in the video has a cock in his mouth, and his fingers are up the ass of the owner of said cock.

that's not even the worst part. the worst part is the next part, which is where sero from three years ago takes the camera, uses his quirk to tie his ex-love's wrists together, and fucks him while getting everything on camera, including a clear shot of his face.

he watches the entire thing, too frozen to do anything else.

in any other situation, his friends would be teasing the shit out of him. ashido would poke fun at how sero of all people made a sex tape, kaminari would make some stupid pun about how he made a sex tape, kirishima would try to be holding himself back from laughing at how sero used his quirk for such a purpose as tying his partner up for sex, and bakugo would probably call him something along the lines of "plain face cock-sucking bottom bitch", even though the next few scenes that follow show that he's clearly not the last part.

this isn't any other situation, though. this is a sex tape with the one person he fucked over so badly that he still stays up every night thinking about it--regretting it. sero thinks that the universe must think he's one big joke.

"sero?" kaminari asks when sero doesn't speak even after the video ends. it's an awkward situation, really, because as mentioned earlier, his friends just watched him watch himself suck a dick and then proceed to pound into the ass of their former classmate.

he's not nearly as mortified by that as he should be.

he's more mortified that this is trending on every single social platform, not even because he's a pro hero with the world currently looking at his naked body, but because he somehow managed to fuck up y/n's life more than he already had three years ago.

"i'm tired" is the excuse he decides on using as he walks toward his bedroom. "i'll talk to you guys later."

hesitantly, his friends show themselves out, which he's glad for because he really needs some time to process--and wallow--by himself.

sero lies in bed for a while, not sure what to do, before he finally pulls out his phone again and does something that only makes the pit of guilt in his stomach worsen.

DailyHero: Taping Hero: Cellophane and the Video That Everyone's Talking about

HeroWeekly: Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video

HeroTribune: Cellophane's Shocking Video

it isn't just hero media networks that are talking about it, though.

CelebrityGossip: Plain Hero Plain No More

since when is he a celebrity? he would find that funny if he wasn't so abashed by today's events.

RecreationalChronicle: How the Tape Hero is Making HeadLines

it makes him slightly amused to think of how that's another one of the stupid puns kaminari would make if the situation wasn't so sensitive.

he clicks on the hero weekly one, which just so happens to be the number one news outlet for hero news. sero's kind of surprised that they said anything about it. they were known for keeping things profession based, and the title of the article frankly sounds like any other drama website. he might be flattered by hero weekly deeming his amateur sex tape important enough to dedicate a whole article to it if he wasn't so plagued with guilt still.

Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video

Cellophane, real name Hanta Sero, is the 26th ranking hero in Japan today. This morning, an explicit video featuring him and another man was leaked onto the internet via an adult video website. The original source is unknown, but we can only assume that neither Cellophane or his featured partner was behind revealing this to the public eye.

From what we gather, this video was filmed roughly around or before the first assignment that brought Cellophane lots of recognition. By this time, he was nineteen years old and had graduated the prestigious U.A. Academy a year prior.

The identities in the video are very clear, as there are many clear shots of both participants' faces.

While the video itself is shocking to many, Cellophane's partner is what surprises us the most. Y/n L/n was a hero that graduated alongside Cellophane from U.A. Academy. He was famous for being so fresh out of high school, but after just one year of unbelievable success--around the same time the infamous video was recorded--he went completely off the grid. To this day, nobody has seen him since.

sero stops reading because he feels more shitty the more he reads. he knows what the article is talking about. y/n cut off almost everybody from u.a. after their breakup. his friends tried to assure him that it wasn't his fault, but it was an awful big coincidence that his abrupt disappearance happened the exact day of their breakup.

he wonders what y/n's up to nowadays. is he still in japan? is he still pursuing a heroic lifestyle? perhaps he's been doing what aizawa did. maybe he continues to fight crime, just minus the recognition and media time.

if y/n really is living a peaceful life right now, did sero just shatter that? the world had sort of forgotten he existed at all after a few months of his disappearance, so he probably would've gotten away with roaming the streets freely without being recognized. did sero just ruin that for him?

he needs to know. he needs to try to fix things, even if he knows he can't. he needs to... he needs to talk to him, even after all these years.

when sero asks kaminari to meet him alone, the electric hero's kind of nervous. last time, he was happy with the entirety of their friend group comforting him. why did he want some one-on-one time all of a sudden?

apparently, he was right to be nervous because what sero is asking of him is hard for him to do.

"hey," kaminari says with the best smile he can muster in his anxious state.

"hey," sero greets back, taking a sip of his hot coffee.

"thanks for buying," kaminari says, twirling the straw in his cup with his hand, the ice of the iced coffee moving and crashing together.

"no problem," sero nods.

"what's up?" kaminari asks, putting the tip of the straw that lays in between his fingers into his mouth to take a nice long taste of the sweet treat.

"i need to talk to y/n," sero says, looking down at the coffee between his two hands instead of up into kaminari's eyes.

"i--what?" kaminari asks, almost spitting out his drink.

"i know you still talk to him, and i know why you can't tell me how to find him, but--"

"sero," kaminari frowns at the frantic desperation in his friends voice. "it's not that i can't. i mean, i probably shouldn't, but... that's not why."

"then why?" sero's voice is pleading, but his eyes hold angry frustration.

"look, the thing is, i don't even talk to him that often," kaminari sighs. "we've talked maybe twice since you guys broke up. we're not the friends that we used to be before."

"i understand that there's boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, okay? believe me, i really do, but i really need a chance to talk to him again. if he tells me to go away, i swear i'll drop it. i'll leave him alone. please."

"i know, i know. i know you aren't a stalker ex. just..."

kaminari's lips tighten into a line, a habit he's picked up over the years whenever he's faced with any kind of decision--whether it be deciding what flavor of ice cream he should get, or, apparently, if he should let his best friend see the guy he broke the heart of.

"okay," kaminari hesitates.

"thank you! thank you thank you--"

"don't thank me yet," kaminari says with a weak shake of his head. "before you talk to him, i need you to know that he's not the same person you knew."

"i understand," sero nods. he doesn't expects his meeting with him to go well anyway. sure, he hopes it will, but he's mentally prepared himself for the worst outcome, which his brain has decided is for y/n to yell and start throwing things at him.

"i... i don't know how to put it, really, but the few times that we talked, he's sounded... weird. like creepy. i don't know, man," kaminari shudders at the thought, but sero's too caught up in his anxious excitement to really care.

"it's okay. i understand," sero repeats.

"if you're sure," kaminari pauses. "truth is, y/n wants to see you, too."

"really?" sero feels all too hopeful, and he can see the worry paint kaminari's face.

"i don't know if it's in a good way or not," kaminari says carefully. he doesn't want to hurt his friend, but he doesn't want to set him up for disappointment either.

"i'm not expecting anything," sero says, but his words aren't very convincing when there's a clear smile growing on his face.

"just be careful, bro." kaminari writes an address on a piece of paper.

"you don't have to worry about me," sero reassures with a smile.

as he wanders through the streets, he's shaky and nervous and scared and ecstatic and--just everything.

y/n wants to meet with him. the possibilities are endless, but at least he now knows he won't be turned away--at least not immediately.

he goes between riding in cabs to treading amongst the shadows on the street, changing whenever someone recognizes him from the trending news.

he endures long hours of stares and whispers, encouraging himself with the thought of being able to see y/n again soon, whether that be a good thing or not.

"fiftieth floor of paragon hotel..." sero mutters to himself as he presses on the cold metal button. lots of questions come to mind, like where will y/n be? he didn't get a room number with the address. how will y/n react? will he stay civil? will he give him a chance to explain himself? did he only want sero to come so he could vent out his anger and frustrations?

when the elevator doors open, he sees a single door.

he hesitantly turns the knob until he's hit with a cold breeze from the night air.

oh.

it's the roof.

his brain's new worst conclusion is that y/n's going to push him off, but he's more okay with that than he should be. he has a quirk that can save him even if that happens, and if anything, he thinks it'll help him feel a little less guilty about everything he's done to make y/n's life more shitty.

"y/n," he calls out softly when he sees y/n just standing there, looking up at the big white moon in the sky.

nothing's really changed. his appearance isn't much different from the last time they saw each other, and sero's still enamored by how the stars above could never compare to the bright light that is y/n.

but that's not something he should be thinking about right now. his head shouldn't be filled with hopeful thoughts.

the object of his love to this day turns around upon hearing his name.

"sero," he greets with a smile. "you made it."

"yeah. i did," sero hesitantly steps closer to y/n. "listen, y/n, i'm..."

fuck. why is that the only thing he can get out of his mouth? he has so much to say--he's been thinking about it every night for the past three years--every hour for the past few days. so why is his mind blank now of all times?

"how're things with... i can't even remember her name," y/n laughs a little, and sero frowns. he doesn't know why he's laughing about the mistake that's been haunting him forever, but he swallows down those feelings. people grieve differently, and if anybody had a right to how they react to that night, it's y/n.

"i'm sorry," sero finally manages out. "she... i haven't talked to her since then. she's not a part of my life."

a casual "weird" is y/n's only comment before he turns back to look at the moon.

"you know... you know she never meant anything, right? we were--"

"'we were drunk, and i was lonely, but that's not an excuse, but she meant nothing, and you're the only one i want'," y/n finishes for him.

sero's heart sinks. has he been playing that night over and over in his head, too? has it been hurting him all this time as well?

"i remember." y/n's smile is still there, albeit more grim, and it unsettles sero.

"yeah..." and sero doesn't know what else to say because apparently, after years of mulling it over in his head, he hasn't come up with anything better than his initial rambles of regret. though, he still has something else to apologize for-- "i'm sorry. i swear it wasn't me who leaked it. i deleted--or at least i thought i deleted my copy years ago. maybe i didn't do it right. i don't know. i can't imagine how hard this must be for you. god, i'm so sorry. i managed to ruin everything all over again a whole three--"

"sero," y/n interrupts, sitting on the low ledge, eyes still on the sky.

"yeah?" sero swallows thickly at how desperate he sounds. he hates how messy his words are--hates how they pour out sounding so slow and stupid.

"do you love me?" y/n asks.

"what?" sero completely blanks. did he hear him right?

"do you love me?" y/n repeats, fully turning his body to him.

"yes." he doesn't hesitate for even a second, even though he wonders why he's asking that question at such an inappropriate time, because he has no doubt in his mind that he loves y/n and has since the moment they met.

"i don't believe you," y/n smiles as he stands up on the platform.

"what are you doing?" sero asks obliviously.

"what i should have done all those years ago," y/n smiles big, and it scares sero a little. "if you really love me... then you would catch me."

sero barely has time to process what he said before y/n lets himself freefall backwards.

sero's brain hadn't even considered that this would be one of the possible outcomes.

"y/n!" sero screams as he runs toward the ledge. he panics as he watches y/n's body get smaller and smaller the more he falls. he rips off his civilian long sleeve, shoots out his tape to stick onto the floor, before throwing himself off to go after him.

he uses his free elbow to launch his tape at y/n, knowing his own body wouldn't be able to get to him fast enough.

he wants to let out a sigh of relief when he sees that y/n's dangling by the white line rather than falling, but he knows from past experience with hero work that they're not completely safe just yet.

pulling himself up with the clear film he had luckily had the brains to think of placing first, he makes it back onto the roof of the building, slowly pulling his other elbow to haul y/n's body up as well.

"are you fucking crazy?!" he raises his voice for the first time in a long time. he doesn't think he's ever felt this angry and frustrated and mortified in his entire life.

y/n doesn't bother unwrapping himself from the tape as he uses a hand to pull sero's face close, kissing him softly.

and sero can't help but melt, which is the opposite of what he should probably be doing. a simple kiss shouldn't be able to pacify him with a situation like this at hand, but it does.

"you love me," y/n smiles when he pulls away just enough to feel the harsh pants coming from sero--the result of both the terrifying moment he just had to experience and his reaction to kissing y/n again.

"i do," sero nods eagerly, and shit, those aren't the words that are supposed to leave his mouth right now. he's supposed to ask what the hell is wrong with y/n. he's supposed to ask why he would do that. he's supposed to curse and swear and--anything but act like it's all okay.

"you love me," y/n says again before pulling him in for another kiss.

when sero puts his arms around y/n's waist and pulls his body as close as possible to his, he feels the buzz of y/n's phone.

"do you--do you need to get that?" sero asks as he reluctantly pulls away, sounding like a whiny child.

"i'm sure it's nothing important," y/n says before throwing his phone off of the roof, and sero pulls him back hungrily, because as strange as that action was, sero can't bring himself to care when the love of his life is back in his arms after three long years.

[12:39am] reporter to y/n: i got myself a promotion! been an honor working with you. again, thank you so much for selling it to me.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

a/n;

i wrote part of this in may last year because i thought the title was funny then i didn't know how to end it but then i got this sero request so

not proofread but when is it ever

[falcqns]

Free Fall

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader (first person pov)

Chapter Summary: You have a talk with your family, and Henry has a surprise for you. 

Warnings: fluff, swearing, family angst, smut, lactation kink, bodily fluids

A/N: hope you enjoy :) I also wanted to just address something quick. I know some people are going to have questions about why I haven't added a specific description for Y/N or Lavender, and that is simply because I want everyone to feel included, and welcome to read my fics! As I am a (very) white woman myself, I wouldn’t want to write a POC character incorrectly, so I’ve opted to not include a description! 

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six |

chapter six

You were sat in Henry’s trailer with Lavender a few days later. You had finished filming for the day, but Henry hadn't. Normally, you would have gone home, but Henry had asked you to wait and come home with him, because he had a surprise for you.

Lavender and Henry were pretty much inseparable now, and you had no worries about them bonding.

You had decided to take the free time and call your family to tell them, since Henry had told his. 

You video chatted your mom first, who picked up right away.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” She said, sitting down on the couch with her phone in her hand.

“Hey, mom. I have some news,” You said, and glanced over at Lavender, who was laying on the bed with Kal next to her, asleep. “You remember Henry right?” 

Your mom nodded. “Yes, of course I do. He played Superman, how could I not.”

You laughed. “Okay well, him and I are together, and he has decided he wants to adopt Lavender.” You said.

You watched as your mom processed the information. “That’s amazing! Are you planning on telling her in the future that he’s not her father?” 

You shrugged at that. You wanted her to grow up safe and loved, and be spared the back and forth game you were put through with your mom and your absent father. But, at the same time, she deserved to know eventually.

“I don't want to, and neither does Henry. But if she asks us, we won't lie to her.” 

Your mom nodded. “Okay, good. Will you be home in time for dads family gathering next in two weeks?” She asked.

Now it was your turn to nod. “Yeah I will be. We don't leave for 3 weeks so I’ll be able to make it. I’m going to bring Henry, as well, I just haven't asked him.”

Your mom nodded. “Sounds good. I have to get ready for work, so I’ll let you go, but I’ll talk to you later tonight, alright?” She said, and you nodded.

“Yep, sounds good! Have fun at work!” You joked. Your mom rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha ha. Very funny. Okay, bye,” She said. 

“Bye,” You responded with a laugh.

Your mom hung up, and Henry walked through the trailer door not long after.

“Hello Mr Bad Guy,” You said, which made him laugh.

“Hey. How’s our children doing?” He asked, turning to look at where Lav and Kal were laying on the bed.

“Okay, last time I checked we only had ONE kid, Henry.” You said, looking at him quizzically. 

He turned to look at you with an amused look on his face. “I was talking about Kal.”

“He’s a dog, Henry.” You said, amusement present in my voice.

“He’s my blood!” Henry said, giving you a fake glare before he pulled you into a hug, which made you giggle against his chest.

He changed out of his August costume and into jeans and the blue tank top (you know which one). He gave Kal some head rubs, and checked on Lavender before joining you on the couch. He pulled you into his lap, and rested his hands on your hips. You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Are you busy in two-ish weeks?” You asked, hoping the answer was no.

“Only with you and our baby girl,” He said, that charming smile finding a home on his lips again.

You snorted at him, but continued. “Well, dads side of the family is having a get together and my mom wants us to come. I checked and its on a Sunday so we can fly in on Saturday and leave Monday?” 

Henry pulled you closer, and pressed a kiss to your neck. “Of course. Now, I think I hear our baby waking up, and if you remember, I have a surprise for you at home.” He said, moving you off of his lap so he can stand up. 

You smiled at him, but stood up and began packing up the trailer while Henry got Lavender ready to go home.

“What is this surprise,” You asked Henry, on the ride home. He glanced over at you, and his hand that rested on your left thigh squeezed tightly. 

“If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?” He said, as he pulled into his gated community. You just laughed at him.

He pulled into the garage, and you both hopped out. Henry grabbed Lavender, and you grabbed the bags and let Kal out, who followed his dad and little sister into the house.

When you walked in, Henry had gotten Lavender out, and was giving her lots of hugs and kisses, to which she was giggling and smiling. Henry noticed you were there, his eyes lit up, and he adjusted Lavender so she was sitting comfortably and safely in his right arm. He took your right hand in his left, and began to lead you to the stairs. 

“Time for the surprise my dear.” He said. You smiled and gladly followed.

The three of you stopped outside of one of the spare bedroom doors, and Henry opened it to reveal a beautiful light pink and light grey themed nursery. 

“Oh my gosh, Henry, did you do this?” You whispered, tears in your eyes.

He smiled, and nodded. “I figured she needed a more permanent place to sleep, rather than just a playpen in my room. This is what I did when you fell asleep the first night we all spent here together,” He explained, walking over to the crib, and laid Lavender down. “I ordered all of this stuff, and put it together when you were on set the day after. She loves it already,” He said, motioning to Lavender who was wiggling and making herself comfortable. “She sat with me the whole time I was putting it together,” Henry finished, reminding you of when he offered to watch her for the day when you had to be on set and he didn’t.

You took in the room around you. Henry had left the walls white, as well as the carpet. He had ordered a light grey crib, with a matching dresser and bookcase.  In the corner sat a light grey rocking chair with foot rest, and there was a fluffy rug on the carpet. 

“I was going to paint flowers on the wall, but then realized I can't paint for shit, so I thought maybe your little sister could come and paint them at some point. I also ordered a wooden sign with her name off of Etsy but it won't arrive for a few more weeks,” He said, wrapping an arm your waist. 

“I love it Henry,” You said, and pressed a kiss to his lips. You both glanced over at Lavender who had fallen fast asleep, and then back at each other. Henry grabbed your hand and pulled you across the hallway to his room. As you entered, you realized you were about to continue what you hadn’t the other day, since the both of you ended up falling asleep for the night.

The second the door to Henry’s room shut, he lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the bed. You giggled as he stood in front of you, and lifted his tank top over his head.

“I love that tank top, but I love what’s underneath much more,” You said, which made him chuckle, and kiss you. He pushed you until your head hit the pillows, and climbed on top of you. 

He deepend the kiss, and pressed his full body weight against you. His lips moved from your lips to your jaw, and then down your neck. They came to rest at the top of your t shirt. You suddenly felt very self conscious and gripped his wrist tightly.

He looked you in the eye. “Do you want me to continue?” 

You immediately nodded. “Desperately, I’m just nervous.” 

His eyebrows immediately wrinkled in concern. “Why baby? What’s wrong?” He asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes and gently rubbed his thumb against your jaw. 

You averted your eyes before continuing. “My body isn't the same as it was before I got pregnant. I have stretch marks on my stomach and legs, and I’ve honestly been scared to look down there because she ripped me to fuckin seeds when she came out,” 

Henry chuckled, but pressed a reassuring kiss to your cheeks.

“Baby, I love you, and I will love your body no matter what. You shouldn't be ashamed of what it looks like because it grew and delivered something so beautiful into our lives. And honestly,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes. “Stretch marks turn me on A LOT.” 

You hid your face behind your hands and giggled, but pulled him in for a kiss. 

“Can we have sex now before she wakes up?” You asked.

He smiled, and his hands traveled up from your waist, and under neath your shirt. He moaned into your neck when he felt your smooth skin,  which cause you to run your hands up his hairy chest and moan at the same time he did. 

“Of course, my angel.”

He slid down your body, and kissed every inch of new skin that appeared as he tortuously slowly slid your shirt up.

“H-Henry,” You moaned in pleasure with a hint of annoyance at his slow pace. 

He looked up from your stomach and chucked. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Stop teasing me,” You said.

He began to kiss your stomach again, at the same pace he had before. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about,” He said in between kisses.

You were finally tired of the all the teasing, and pulled him up. You made it appear like you were going to kiss him, but surprised him as you curled your leg around his, and flipped him on his back. You climbed on top, and crushed your mouth to his. You immediately felt him  grow harder underneath your hips, and ground you hips onto his.

He sighed into the kiss, and actually pulled your shirt off. He broke the kiss and looked up to your body sitting above him. 

“Looks like my combat training is paying off, my dear,” You said, smirking at him.

He didn't answer though, because his eyes were fixed on your bra. It was a pale green lacy nursing bralette, with clips where the cups met the straps, so you could unhook it. 

He noticed these clips, and his hand slid up to unclip it. Once the front fabric fell away, and your breast was exposed with lace running along the top and bottom for added support, he moaned.

“Th-that’s a cool feature,” He said, unable to tear his eyes off of your breast. “Do all your bra’s do this?”

You snorted. “No, silly. It’s a nursing bra. It allows for better access when I feed Lav.” His eyes snapped up to yours at the mention of her name.

“Don’t say our daughters name when we’re about to have sex,” He groaned, which made you laugh, and kiss him again.

He unhooked the other clip, and once the fabric fell away, he covered both your breasts and squeezed. 

You began grinding your hips again, when you heard him exclaim. 

“W-what?” You asked, before you noticed his hands, which had drops of breastmilk on them. You busted out laughing at the look of horror on his face.

“Henry, baby, it’s breast milk.” Immediately a look of relief came over his face, and he flipped you over. He buried his face in your neck once again.

“Thank god, I thought I hurt you,” He mumbled against your skin. “This isn’t going as smoothly as I had hoped it would.”

You didn't have a chance to laugh at his comment though, because he immediately started grinding his hips into yours. His hands wrapped around your back and he undid your bra, before tossing it on the floor. 

You moaned at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin as he trailed gently kisses down your chest, and to your stomach. He began to kiss every single stretch mark that had appeared on your body during your 9 months of pregnancy, while his hands paid attention to your breasts. 

“You are so beautiful, baby,” He whispered into your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“H-Henry,” You moaned.

You felt him chuckle against your skin once more, which sent even more shivers down your spine.

“I’ll stop teasing you,” He said, and he slid his hands down your torso to the top of your pants.

“Thank god,” You breathed out, causing Henry to swat you gently on the bum.

You lifted your hips, your eyes not leaving Henry’s face as he slid your pants down your legs, and ended up face to face with your matching panties.

He moaned, and tossed your pants on the floor with the rest of the clothes, before pressing a kiss to your centre. 

“Ahh,” You moaned out, as your hips arched into his face. His arm came up to your waist and pushed your hips right back down.

“Calm, baby.” He said. He sat up on his knees, and hooked his fingers into your panties, gently gliding them down your legs. 

Afraid of what his reaction to your centre would be, you squeezed your eyes shut. That was, until you felt a a tongue gliding up your folds, and a moan pulse into you. 

You opened your eyes and arched your back and moaned at the sight. 

Henry had begun to eat you out, his moans reverberating. His eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, and his left arm gripping your leg like you would float away from him if he let go.

Your hands flew down into his hair, and he removed his right arm from your waist, and brought his fingers down to circle your entrance, causing you to cry out again.

He removed his mouth for a moment, glancing up at you for consent.

“Do you want me to keep going baby?” He whispered, pure love and lust swimming in his eyes.

You nodded, but Henry protested. “No, baby, I need you to say yes,” He said in a sing song voice.

“Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill, if you stop, I will go all August Walker on your ass.” You groaned out through your clenched teeth.

He chucked, but attached his mouth right to your clit, while he gently slid a finger inside. 

The sensation of his finger moving inside you, coupled with his tongue brushing over your clit, had sent you barreling towards your high.

“H-Henry, please, I need you inside me,” You managed to cry out. He noticed how desperate you were, and immediately removed his mouth and fingers before sliding up your body once again.

As you slid your hands down his body, Henry whispered in your ear. “If we weren’t on such a time crunch, I would eat you out over and over again, and make you come on my tongue until you were begging me to stop.” He then brought your earlobe into his mouth and sucked while you rubbed your hand over his still clothed cock.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down to his knees, before he took over and kicked them off. He then pulled his underwear downwind your mouth dropped open at the sight of him.

“Jesus, Henry, is there any part of you that is regular sized?” You exclaimed, as he rubbed his hand up and down his cock, before spreading your legs again.

“Nope,” is all he could muster, as he rain his head through your folds before slowly pushing inside. 

You both moaned out. Henry dropped his forehead against yours, and looked you in the eyes lovingly.

“You okay?” He whispered. 

You nodded, your eyes tearing up from him finally being inside you after wanting it for so long.

“Perfect. You?” 

“Same,” Henry responded before moving his hips. 

Your hands immediately gripped his shoulders, and bucked your hips up to meet his. 

Henry gradually picked up speed to the point of slamming into you, and had dropped his head to your breasts. You knew what he was hoping for, and you granted his wish.

You brought a hand up to your breast, and squeezed gently, until some breast milk began to trickle out. Henry immediately groaned, and dropped his head to lick it up.

“Fuck, all of you is bloody delicious,” He groaned, as he ground his hips down onto yours.

You just moaned in response, unable to form any coherent words. 

Henry, noticing your state, snaked his right hand in between your legs and began to rub your clit in circles.

“Yeah, come on, baby, cum on my cock,” He groaned out, and your back arched involuntarily.

“I’m so f-fucking close,” You managed to say, before Henry started to rub faster.

“So am I, I wanna see you let go baby. You can do it,” He said.”You’ve done so well, I love you so so much baby,” He dropped his head to your ear. “Cum on my cock like the good girl I know you are.” 

Immediately, you were sent flying over the edge. Your back arched even more somehow, and you couldn't keep quiet. You basically screamed in his ear, but he didn't seem to mind. You drug your nails down his arms, hard enough to leave marks, but not so much to draw blood.

Henry followed you moments later, letting out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard, as he filled you up.

Soon after, Henry pulled out of you, and collapsed on the bed beside you before pulling you onto his chest.

“That-” You said. “Was amazing.” Henry nodded in response. “Best orgasm I’ve ever had.” 

Your head shot up. “Really?!” You exclaimed, but before you could answer, a cry rang out from Lavender’s room.

Henry moved you off his chest before grabbing his underwear from the floor. 

“That’s my cue,” He said, leaving you on the bed in a fit of giggles.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 4

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 11.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: canon typical violence, canon divergence, flashback of past character death (OCs), cannibalism, detailed gore, sexual innuendos, suggestion of rape, reference to past child death, torture (dismemberment), Negan being Negan, probably badly written Negan, mention of a broken ankle?

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah, like I warned last chapter, I got a little carried away with this chapter. Negan is so fucking hard to write, so warning you for that as well. I loved this chapter though. And, uh, a lot of trigger warnings. Enjoy!

(Y/N) sighed, looking into her bag. Her supplies were running dangerously low - only two cans and half a water bottle, not to mention the nonexistent ammo. She wouldn't be able to stay out here much longer. But paranoia crept into her, as it had done regularly since that night, and kept her in place. Trusting people was damn near impossible. Being in a group, in a community, a camp? It was terrifying. Unless she was truly desperate, and only then, would there be the smallest slither of a chance of it happening. Maybe she would be better just moving on. Staying alone. She was safer alone.

"Don't be stupid, woman, ya barely standin'." She could practically hear Daryl's voice in her ear, and her head snapped to the side just to check. But she was met with empty, open-air, and her heart sank a little bit, despite knowing he wasn't there. (Y/N) let out a huff, a mix of frustration and sadness, and looked back to the clearing in the bushes where she was watching Terminus. Goddamn it, even when he wasn't there, he was always right. She was going to get herself killed. There was a herd on the way, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a couple days right? Restock, sleep, and then get on the road again before the herd hit. They'd destroy that place anyway.

(Y/N) watched with hardened eyes as the fencing was pulled open, fixed on the men behind it. He had a smile on his face and open hands but his eyes gave him away. There was something menacing behind them. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what that was. Just a few days.

"Hello there! My name is Gareth, I'm kind of the leader around here. Welcome to Terminus," Gareth greeted, striding forward, much quicker than (Y/N) had liked. She stepped back in response, narrowing her eyes cautiously.

"(Y/N)," She responded after a long pause. Hell, the longer she spent alone, the more she was sounding like her husband. Gareth's eyes flittered to her dirty, bloodied face; to the gun, she held in a vice-like grip; to her furrowed eyebrows; to the way she swayed lightly in exhaustion.

"Well, we're glad to have you. Before you come in, though, I need you to put your weapons on the ground. All of them. Just so we have no surprises," He replied. (Y/N) glanced down to the gun, still with the safety off and hesitated. Gareth waited patiently, much to her odd annoyance. Eventually, she gave a small nod, watching as relief flooded his features. There was something off about him. What was he hiding? She didn't trust him. Not that that meant much anymore. Down the gun went, along with the knife from her belt, still covered in walker blood, and the small handgun she kept clipped to her bag. Gareth came towards her, slowly this time, like someone approaching a scared pet. "I'm just going to pat you down now. Just our policy."

Much to (Y/N)'s relief, he kept professional as he patted along her arms, down her torso and legs and back up again. He was giving her that fake gentle smile. That only made her stiffen and the leader was quick to back off when he was done. He was trying to earn her trust. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept asking why what was he up to? (Y/N) tried to shake the suspicion as she bent down to pick her weapons back up.

"C'mon in," Gareth gestured to the gate and despite her unease, she allowed him to take her through to a small courtyard. There were a few people, maybe ten or so. Some of them were sat down on tables and little booths that were dotted around, and two people were stood next to a barbecue, where there was a blonde woman stood behind cooking. The closer they got, the stronger the smell wafting through the air did, and it made her stomach twist in a knot. She knew that smell. Why did she know that smell? The lady shot (Y/N) a warm smile as she offered her a plate of whatever it was she was cooking. But she only stared at it, a look of scepticism and partial disgust and the Terminus people exchanged a glance. Finally, the lady shrugged and handed the plate to a guy who'd come to stand behind the survivor. "You really find it hard to trust people don't you?"

"I'll be here for a day or two. I just need to rest," (Y/N) cut in sharply, readjusting the bag on her back, leaving a hand on the strap for grounding. Gareth shook his head slightly and placed his hand on his hips.

"Right this way," He breathed, growing increasingly vexed with the newcomer's dismissal. This time, she was led to what looked like a canteen, made out of an old factory (maybe? It was hard to tell), and this time she let herself sit down on a bench that had been shoved against the wall. Her bag was placed on the floor between her feet, never letting it get too far. The three pictures and a random bobby pin that she had no idea how it got there, that were folded in her back pocket were stabbing into her ass through her jeans but she didn't move. If she was going to get stolen from again, she would happily lose everything as long as she could keep those three photos. Gareth disappeared into a back room and she let her gaze slide around the room. It was barren but looked like it had been untouched by the dead. A few minutes stretched by and her knee began to bounce nervously, before he returned, holding a can of sweetcorn, top already taken off, and a glass of water. He handed it to her, and hesitantly she took it. Hell, she was starving.

(Y/N) dug in a second later, ravenous, and it would long before the can was empty. The leader was babbling on about the community and rules and all that bullshit. By god, that man could talk. She'd zoned out by now, more focused on getting fed and hydrated. She took a gulp from the glass, nearly emptying, and putting on an expression that made it seem like she was listening. Slowly, however, his words started to fade in and out, muffling and blending together. Her head felt light, and she felt like she could barely hold herself up. She felt so damn heavy. Her body fell to the side, lying on the bench. Gareth knelt down in front of her. There it was. Through her dotted vision, she could see the dark grin on his face, and a shiver ran down her spine. He'd put something in her food and water. That motherfucker.

"What the hell did-" (Y/N) started. She could hardly recognise her own voice. It was slurred and quiet, but still filled with the anger she'd hoped for. Well, if she was gonna die, he wanted her to know she was pissed about it. Gareth just stared her down, and eventually, she surrendered to the black dots. For Fuck's sake.

The faint noise of hushed chatter made (Y/N) lift her head from the floor. Shit that was a mistake. She scrunched her eyes back shut, trying to relieve her pounding headache. Slowly, she let herself open her eyes again, only to be met by the same darkness, bar a slither of light coming from under, what she assumed to be, a door. Everything fucking hurt, but she still pushed herself up, shuffling until she met a wall, to get grounding. The room couldn't have been very big, a storeroom or something? Well, at the very least, she knew she could trust her instincts. She saw something suspicious in Gareth and the motherfucker had drugged her. Asshole. The next question was, why the fuck had he drugged her? As if the people outside could read her mind, the door slammed open, flooding the room in sunlight, which made (Y/N) shut her eyes. Fuck that headache was killing her. Whoever had opened the door gripped her arm, jerking her out of the room across the rough ground and tearing her skin slightly. That was gonna sting later. She moved to fight back but found her wrists tied by course rope. How hadn't she noticed that? Probably the headache, damn it. When her eyes adjusted, they raised to glare at the person. Gareth. Of fucking course.

"Hey asshole," She quipped, giving him a sarcastic smile and he smiled, though there was no kindness in it. She heard him mumble something about being a smart ass before he lifted a bit of cloth from around her neck (when had that gotten there? Stupid drug side effects) she was tugged to her feet and shoved forward. (Y/N) had no idea where she was going, but the faces of the Terminus people read glad and... hungry? They had plenty of food in that pantry, more than (Y/n) had seen in a long time, why would they be hungry?

It wasn't long before her surroundings became gloomy and darkened as Gareth took her into another old looking warehouse. The corridor opened up to a large room, with different kinds of tools littering the walls and various tools, along with a long trough in the centre of the room. Oh fuck, oh no. Oh no no no. She'd been hunting with Daryl and Merle enough times to know exactly what this fucking meant. She was NOT going out like this, no fucking way. And definitely not without a damn fight She squirmed in his grip, launching her leg backwards to try and kick him, but Gareth managed to jump back just in time. He twisted her arm slightly in return and she released a grunt of pain, but didn't let up, turning, bending, kicking, just moving as much as she possibly could, shouting out, trying to backpedal. Anything to get away from that trough. There were two guys in the corner, bouncing on their heels and shuffling, clearly waiting for Gareth to ask them to step in.

"Stop, fucking stop," Gareth growled in her ear, pushing her forward even more, despite her struggling. She was getting closer, and closer and closer and she was running out of options. This was gonna hurt like a bitch. Better than getting eaten. With a deep breath, she threw her head back, smashing into his nose. Shit, shit, shit she was right that fucking hurt. Instinctively, he let go, swearing violently and she made a mad dash for the door. The likelihood of her actually getting anywhere, especially with tied hands and goons around every corner but hell if they thought she was gonna just lay down and let them kill her, they were wrong. She raced back down the route Gareth had just taken her, and she soon heard three sets of footsteps behind her. She managed to get outside, back to the courtyard she'd been in hours (maybe? she didn't really know how long she was out) earlier, before one of the men who'd been in the slaughter room tackled her to the floor. Well, there went another layer of her skin on the ground. Ow. Over the slight ringing in her ears (Y/N) could hear slightly panicked muttering from the small crowd in the courtyard. Gareth came over seconds later, towering over her, and she grinned at him upon seeing his bloodied nose and the drips of blood on the collar of his shirt. He gripped her shirt harshly and pulled her up and hurriedly pushed her towards the small storeroom she'd been in minutes earlier.

"What? Don't have the balls to try and kill me again?" She asked through the gag, which Gareth pulled down before shoving her down to the floor. He stood in the doorway, glaring down at her with a wild look in his eye. He crouched in front of her, and despite the fear snaking into her, she kept his gaze, smirking slightly.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll kill you. But, you see, we have some newcomers, who we've yet to break the news of how things work here. We don't need you scaring them off. You can stay here for a few days, let things calm down and then..." He trailed off and ran a finger along her cheek. (Y/N) moved her head away, sneering at him.

"And what happens if your new people don't agree with the way you run things? I mean, eating people? You're not that different from the snarlers," She asked, her voice slightly hoarse, but still full of venom. There was that flash of amusement on his face and he leant forward, right in her face. She narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to smash her head into his nose again. That headache was still hammering behind her eyes and Jesus, it still hurt.

"If they don't agree, you can have some buddies joining you, and you can help the rest of us out," Okay that was just a weirdly cryptic way of saying they'd get eaten too. The leader was still too close for comfort, and she just looked at him, before spitting and narrowly missing his eyes. He snarled and stood up before slamming the door shut behind him and flooding the room with semi-darkness. Fantastic.

The only way (Y/N) was measuring time was the light underneath the door. It'd been around three days, and her arms had started cramping just hours after Gareth had shoved her back in that shithole. Thankfully, around halfway through day two, someone had come and untied her, only so she could eat, but her arms still felt tender. They fed her, and while most of it had expired, it was more than she'd eaten in weeks, and it made her the strongest she'd been in a while. The smell of her own vomit had made her nose numb, and honestly, she couldn't wait to get out even if it meant her becoming dinner. In the darkness and mostly silent room, she had nothing to do, other than getting lost in her thoughts. It was the only thing stopping her from going crazy.

"You're telling me that Merle got you this?" (Y/N) asked, about three years younger, looking back to an also younger Daryl. The pair were stepping through dead leaves, and moving past bushes. He looked over, moving his significantly shorter hair off his forehead.

"Ya really surprised by that?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows. He felt naked without his crossbow, but his girl was holding it tightly, he knew it was in good hands. She laughed quietly, as he led them to the makeshift target range he'd set up the day before.

"Don't really know why I'm surprised by it," She replied, moving slightly closer, and looking down at the crossbow. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement. (Y/N) had been begging her boyfriend for months to teach her to use the crossbow, or at the very least hunting. Not because she was actually particularly interested in it, but because it was such a big part of his and Merle's life. And when Daryl had learnt that, he damn near melted. Stupid, affectionate woman, she remembered him saying, despite the faint blush on his face. "Y'know my mom's been pestering me about getting you to teach her how to use this thing as soon as she found out you used a crossbow."

Daryl glanced over to her, his lips twitched upwards and shook his head. Her mom, Lily, was so sweet on him, and he wasn't quite sure why. However, it was clear that she hadn't been swayed by Merle yet. Couldn't exactly blame her though. His brother was an asshole at the best of times.

"She still movin' to South Carolina?" (Y/N) and Daryl kept walking, but he used a hand on her back to direct her more to the left. She nodded with a small grin but didn't say anything. They walked in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking before they reached their destination. There were various little targets, ranging between small empty bottles and bags full of rice or hay. Daryl took her into a small box on the floor made out of twigs so that there were bigger targets closer to her and smaller targets further away. He started explaining how to pull the string back to the latch, showing her and then letting her do it herself.

(Y/N) brought the crossbow up to rest near her shoulder, closing one eye to look down the arrow track as Daryl had instructed her.

"Merle ever show ya how to use a rifle?" Daryl inquired. He was stood right behind her, so her back was nearly pressed to his chest, and his head was hovering over her other shoulder.

"Would it be Merle if he hadn't?" (Y/N) shot back with a playful smirk and he just chuckled, reaching around and adjusting her grip on the crossbow. He placed his hands over hers, and he could already tell she'd be teasing him about it later, especially if she saw him blushing. Well, if she saw him, he could shoot back that she was blushing too. Win-win, he supposed

"Ya don't damn act like it. Y'ain't even holdin' it right," Daryl returned, but it was light and he wouldn't deny the grin on his face if she said anything. (Y/N) tightened her grip, finding comfort in his hands over hers, keeping her eye on the arrow track. "Now, ya gotta line up the bolt and the arrow track, and when ya think ya got it, ya pull the trigger."

(Y/N) couldn't deny how at home he seemed out there, in the wilderness, with his crossbow. He was content, as content as a Dixon could be at one time, and the way he hovered around her made her fight back a smile. The asshole was just adorable and he didn't realise it.

He watched as her eyebrows scrunched more in concentration, and he felt himself soften when she stuck her tongue out slightly. Fucking hell, she was gonna make his mean redneck facade crack. Not like it mattered, there wasn't anyone around.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) lined up the arrow track with one of the rice-filled bags closer to the box, and pulled the trigger. The bolt went flying out, and the string lurched forward, making her jump and Daryl let out a loud laugh at the movement. The bolt stabbed into the floor right beside the bag and she let out a huff.

"That's pretty good for a first try. I want ya to try and hit one of the bottles. Don't matter if ya miss," He said, short hair sticking to his forehead in the Georgia heat while he moved from behind her to go and retrieve the bolt. As he was getting the bolt, (Y/N) pulled the string back, so when he returned she slid the bolt along the arrow track. She stood back up, and Daryl returned to his place behind her. A few seconds later, the bolt whistled through the air, and once again narrowly missed the bottle. But she felt pride blooming in her chest. It was further away, after all! She turned to her boyfriend with an excited grin, happiness seeping from her and Daryl couldn't help but smile back at her.

They continued like this for a few hours, until (Y/N) arms started to hurt from holding the crossbow up, and they started heading back. She was trailing ahead of Daryl, back in that comfortable, and very frequent, silence. He had to admit, she was pretty damn good. Her aim wasn't bad and after some practice, she'd probably be as good as him. But the excitement she'd had even when she'd missed the targets, her grin every time she got a little bit closer, made his heart feel full. If he hadn't been certain before, he definitely was now. She was it for him. He was gonna marry her someday, even if it wasn't his thing. He was gonna be with her.

The ground-shaking below her feet and an ear-splitting explosion, as well as a faint flash of bright light under the door, knocked her to her side and pushed her from her reminiscing. What the fuck? Silence stretched for a minute before panic started, and footsteps raced past the door. (Y/N) pressed herself against the door, and a second bang went off, close enough to knock some debris into her door, and send it shooting open and slamming her back. She groaned, using the wall to stand up, but she shot behind the door when she heard the all too familiar noise of snarlers. A lone snarler stumbled past her door, and she banged her hand against the wall, just quiet enough for it to only lure the one. It paused and growled, turning into the room. (Y/N) slowly bent down and picked up the bit of debris from the floor, before stepping out and slamming the debris into the snarlers head before it had time to see her. There were more coming, the explosion would have lured them for miles and miles. She had to think fast, but with only the sharp bit of debris, that would definitely break soon, she didn't have many options. Fuck. She was gonna have to cut the snarler open. Great.

With a small shiver, and a pause much longer than she probably should have risked with the oncoming storm of snarlers, she lifted the snarlers ripped shirt and brought the debris down into its stomach. Resisting the urge to vomit (god she'd never get used to that smell), she pressed on until the debris snapped and she started pulling out guts. A disgusted noise escaped her as she started spreading the guts all over her body, along her arms and legs, and, unfortunately, her face too. (Y/N) couldn't resist a shudder as the smell got caught in her nose. Jesus, she couldn't wait to find a creek or a river already and wash this shit off. At least she could go out with the snarlers now, and maybe find a weapon, and maybe her stuff. Not that she had much worth saving. She had her pictures and right now, she was just grateful for that. After giving her lungs a much-needed breath of fresh air, she walked into the sunlight, squinting in the sun, at a snail-like pace. Blend in, please for the love of fuck, please blend in. (Y/N) turned a corner, and she couldn't stop herself from hesitated. Terminus was flooded. There was no fucking chance of her getting her stuff back. She had to get out. Gunshots were filling the air, doing nothing to deter the snarlers.

However, while the snarlers hadn't noticed her, someone from Terminus clearly had. A ginger woman surged forward towards her, knife in hand. Perfect. She immediately stretched her arm out to slash at her face, but (Y/N) managed to duck under her arm and grab it, but the woman twisted and pressed it forward. It inched closer and closer to her face, and a bit too close to her eye, and (Y/N) used the grip she had on her wrist to push it back. Apparently, their strengths were matched, since they didn't move for a second. She grunted lightly, before glancing down. While she was defending her face, this woman had left her legs undefended, and she smiled at her before kicking her knee, hard. The woman went down with a cry of pain, clutching her knee and allowing the knife to clatter to the floor and (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pick it up and stab it into the woman's temple. She let out a sigh, leaning on her thighs for a minute. Christ being locked in a tiny room for a few days and launching into the fight right after wasn't a good idea. The snarlers were getting closer, and (Y/N) plucked the gun from the woman's holster and walked forward, allowing herself to fall into the herd.

She was trying to follow the herd's direction while also looking for an exit. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots and screaming surrounding her, not to mention the groaning and growling of the snarlers, and it was getting harder and harder to decipher which direction any of it was coming from. Her eyes skimmed her surroundings. There had to be an exit somewhere. Right as she thought that, she noticed a gap in the fence, like someone, had torn through it and she started trying to move towards it, as much as she could without alerting the snarlers. Despite the loud noises surrounding her, one noise that was getting easier and easier to pick out were gunshots that were getting closer and closer and the herd getting shoved into two, like a twisted version of Moses splitting the sea. A group of maybe 12-14 people were sprinting through, moving too fast for her to really see them properly, shooting and slashing as they approached the fence. (Y/N) continued on in the herd, hoping she wouldn't get caught in their rampage. It wasn't until one of them got grabbed, a little boy, and was getting pulled forward by a snarler. Some cowboy looking guy froze in his tracks, probably his dad. But he wouldn't get there in time, she knew that. And she wasn't going to have another Anna. Not again. She rushed forward, raising her gun and shooting the snarler right between its eyes. The little boy stared up at her, fear and shock still present in his eyes and her eye softened, before the father came running up. The father pulled him away immediately and stared her down like she hadn't just saved his son's life. She narrowed her eyes and yelled "go!" and thankfully, they didn't hesitate in following her instructions. But now, the snarlers knew she wasn't one of them. She had to make a break for that gap. This would be fun.

(Y/N) felt dead on her feet. She'd been walking for days, and while she was sure it was gonna kill her eventually, every day she was closer and closer to Washington. Maybe another one or two days and she'd be there. Her supplies were running short again, not that she'd found many after Terminus. Most places had been picked clean by now. There had to be something in Washington. There had to be. And while the realist part of her knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, another part of her was really hoping that Daryl would have made his way North, and be there, with his weird attachment to his crossbow, and his much too short hair, and following behind her louder than life brother-in-law, and the fiddling of his wedding band whenever he was nervous, or angry, or even just lost in thought. She hadn't really let herself think about him much since the world had gone to shit, apart from in Terminus, and it made her heart hurt. He could be dead. He could have died months ago and she was just holding out false hope. Merle could be dead.

That only reminded her of why she hadn't let herself think of her family much. (Y/N) shook her head and focused on the woods surrounding her. There was a map tucked into the side of the worn backpack she'd found two nights ago, and there were a knife and a gun strapped around her waist. Like the rest of her resources, she was running low on bullets. Maybe ten or eleven bullets left. Knife work had become common practice unless she'd gotten caught in a tight spot, which thankfully hadn't been often. But with each day and the lack of supplies, she was getting weak again, and she knew if there was nothing in Washington, she would probably die. And it was fucking terrifying. She was just thanking whatever god, or lack of, was up there that her husband had taught her to track and to navigate the woods.

Nightfall was nearing, and (Y/N) had managed to find the ruins of an old gas station. If there'd been more choice, she would have found somewhere else. It was too similar to where she'd stayed with her group near the beginning. With Kai, her mom, Andrew... But there was nowhere else, and it was safe enough, so it would have to do. It beat sleeping in a tree again. Seriously, sleeping in trees was going to destroy her back. After clearing the gas station, and trying to barricade the doors as much as possible, she opened the latch of the room, closing it behind her, and climbed onto the roof. She placed her bag down on the roof, and hesitantly lay down, using her bag as a pillow, keeping her knife and gun close. Nowadays, as it had been further proved by Terminus, it wasn't just the dead she had to worry about. After a lot of tossing, turning, rumbling of her stomach and worrying, her body finally shut down, and she let herself sleep.

Dawn was barely breaking when she was woken by the sound of brakes squealing. Fuck. People weren't something that reassured her. Not anymore By instinct, the sleep was shaken from her body and the grogginess was non-existent as she crawled back to the latch, panic starting to rise in her chest.

"You're sure it was here you saw someone from Hilltop? Boss is coming to check it out himself," An unfamiliar, and much too loud considering how many walkers were around. The door of their vehicle was slammed shut.

" I saw 'em last night. Just the one, killed a couple dead fucks and barricaded the doors. Looked tired, sick, think they ran away from Hilltop or something," Another voice replied. Oh fuck. This guy had seen her. He had to know where she was. She was gonna have to have a mad dash for freedom. Carefully, she opened the latch, making sure to drop into a crouch when she got back into the store and tiptoed towards the backroom where the least barricaded door was, only made of a relatively flimsy. metal shelf Last night, she'd been too exhausted to barricade it properly, which now she looked back was unbelievably stupid, however it was also potentially saving her life now. The two voices continued as they got closer to the storefront, and (Y/N) used the little strength she had to push the barricade out of the way and opened the door. However in her rush to escape, she hadn't noticed the bit of broken metal jutting out of the shelf, so as she pushed her body against it, it torn through the side of her leg. Red seeped down her leg, making a small pool on the floor quickly. (Y/N), you fucking idiot.

"Fuck!" She whispered. Fucking hell that hurt! She moved to try and apply pressure but the sound of glass smashing in the front of the store made her freeze. She didn't have time to stop, she had to get out of here, even if it killed her. Something about the way these people talked alone felt off. Honestly, she wasn't sure if it wasn't just her paranoia at this point, but after Terminus and that night at the camp, she wouldn't risk it. Just as she limped outside, she heard another squeal and she could only assume another vehicle had pulled up. Her bag, her body, everything felt heavy as she stumbled forward and back into the woods. She wasn't getting far, but if she could get just far enough that she could hide, maybe she'd be okay. Knowing her luck, it wasn't damn likely. (Y/N) couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the blood trail she had to be leaving behind. She managed to get a fair distance before the pain searing up her leg stopped her, and she hid inside a bush. She didn't have any other options. She heard swearing and shouting, and some snarlers getting taken down and eventually, two men came barging out the partially open back door. One of them was holding a rifle, up and ready to shoot and the other one had a revolver. Both of them looked like the perfect example of someone who could ruin (Y/N)'s day.

They were looking around, still on guard, and it was clear they were looking for snarlers until she saw a new guy on the roof where she'd been just minutes ago and called down that she wasn't there. Well hell, they were definitely looking for her now. One hand was clutching her leg, desperately trying to stop the bleeding as much as possible so she didn't bleed out, while the other gripped her gun tightly, ready to fight if she had to. She had to bite her lip to stop her from crying out as she applied more and more pressure. It wasn't deep enough to have hit a vein, and she knew if she'd hit an artery she would already be dead and eating these fuckers, but it was deep enough to not stop bleeding with a little bit of pressure. Upon hearing that (Y/N) wasn't on the roof they cursed, and pressed further on and unluckily, nearer to her bush. Rifle guy whispered to revolver guy and revolver guy went back around the building towards where she assumed the vehicles were. Maybe he was going for the boss? She watched carefully, before letting her gaze fall back to her leg, applying more pressure and she was starting to taste something metallic in her mouth as well as she bit her lip harder. Apparently, that split second was all it took for the rifle guy to creep forward right in front of her bush. It made her think that they'd known where she was all along.

There was the end of a rifle right in her face when she looked up and she couldn't stop the alarm from spilling into her eyes as they met his. This guy had a smirk on his face, looking very accomplished. The living didn't want to give him a fucking break, did they? Knowing her chances against a rifle were disadvantaged, she stood up slowly from her hiding, wincing as she put a little pressure on her leg. The barrel followed her as she rose, even as she stumbled slightly on her injured leg. The pair stared at each other in a moment of tense silence, and she tried her hardest not to let her internal panic spread to the outside, and (Y/N) scowled at him, eyes sharp and narrowed. What she was about to do was the dumbest plan she'd ever had, but with a fucked up leg and nothing to patch her up, none of her options was looking particularly great. So, she quickly raised her gun and fired, so soon he only just reacted. The bullet skimmed his head, tearing a bit of skin from the side of it, and he tackled her, his rifle falling out of either of their reach, but not before catching her face and leaving a nick on her forehead. A cry, borderline scream, escaped her as his knee fell onto her wound, but she gritted her teeth and stretched to his belt where a knife was protruding. He pulled back, but she'd just managed to grab it and turned them around so she was straddling him awkwardly, her injured leg at an angle to avoid any pressure.

(Y/N) raised the knife to stab it down into his head, seeing an angry but smug expression on his face. She couldn't help but wonder how the fuck someone in his situation could be smug, but her question was answered by the clicking of four or five, as far as she could tell, guns.

"I'd drop that if I were you," Rifle guy smirked from underneath her, and she glared but reluctantly released the knife and let it drop. He shoved her off and she let out a grunt of pain. Shit that leg was going to get infected. Her gaze raised to look at the semi-circle of men around her, along with one woman, with dark-haired and bleached tips pulled into a bun and a deadly look in her eyes. The rifle guy stood up and picked up his rifle and joined his people. A slight glimmer in the corner of her eye in the dawn sun made her look up, and there he stood in dead centre. He clutched a barbed wire wrapped bat, a glove on the hand holding it, and she had to admire his weapon. It was pretty damn cool. Baseball bat guy was wearing a white shirt, super impractical for the apocalypse she couldn't stop herself thinking, with a leather jacket on top. His hair was dark, but greying along the sides and in his scruff. And he was grinning, and while there was no malice in it, it didn't make her feel at ease by any means. If anything, it made her squirm more. His eyes raked down her body and suddenly she felt small. He was a predator, and she was the prey. Oh fuck. He whistled, almost akin to that of a wolf whistle.

"God damn lady! If that didn't make my pants tight I don't, know what will! Adam, you should be ashamed. She nearly killed you, and she was fucking injured!" Baseball guy grinned, stepping forward swinging the bat slightly. (Y/N) didn't say a word, just glared at him and she saw entertainment dancing behind his eyes. He crouched in front of her. She was starting to get really sick of egotistical men who had a little bit of power over her crouching in front of her. Fucking condescending assholes. His eyes dragged down to her wound, and he pressed two fingers to it, making her hiss.

"Go to hell," She growled, leaning towards his face. If only to prove she wasn't intimidated despite the terror in her lungs. He let out a loud laugh. But unlike the murderers at camp or Gareth, it wasn't fake or dark. It was a genuine laugh. Somehow that worried her more.

"Is that any way to talk to your saviour?" He asked with a cockiness that made her skin crawl. Her glare deepened, and he removed his hand from her wound. He wiped his bloody hand on his jeans, before using it to grip her chin. She had to resist the urge to pull her face away. This guy was more dangerous than the other asshole men she'd met. He was calm but dangerous. Like a landmine that hasn't yet gone off. One wrong move and he'd explode. After a second her eyebrows raised in question. "If I hadn't come, you would have killed Adam, not that I could blame you," He leant forward to her ear whispering the next part "He's made moves on some of my wives before. You'd be doing me a favour. However, my loyal crew here would have had to kill you. But I sent my crew and stopped you, so you get to live. You should thank me."

With that last sentence, she was suddenly back nearly two years in front of a dim campfire, with Andrew and her mom at her side. Kai's body, wide-eyed and still bleeding, was slumped in front of her, her mom's throat was slashed and she was gurgling, trying her hardest to cry out. Andrew was beside her, the ghost of a triumphant grin on his face and a bullet between his eyes.

"Really you should be thanking us."

Baseball guy was watching her with a wide grin, as she came back to reality. She was trembling, and tears were building in the corner of her eyes. God damn it.

"Should have a stony as shit lady like you had met some fucked up people. The way I see it, you're in my debt," He heaved himself up with a deep sigh, still holding the barbed wire bat, which he placed beneath her chin, the spikes cutting and pricking her skin lightly. He clicked his tongue and his eyebrows flashed up quickly. "Hell, woman, you gotta stop giving me that look. Makes me wanna take you back home and fuck you six ways to Sunday."

It took every fibre in her body to stop her from shuddering, and she already knew that when the adrenaline ran out she would be having some form of breakdown. That would be fun

"But, we can discuss that later," He said with a wink "As I was saying, you're in my debt, and you have two ways to pay it off."

"Which are?" She ground out, pressing harder on her wound. Oh, she was definitely going to pass out from blood loss soon. She was already starting to feel woozy.

"See fellas! This is what I mean when I say I want direct! Goddamn, I can tell you are gonna fit right in!" (Y/N)'s unamused look made Baseball guy laugh heartily before continuing on "You can either join us, work for me, we break you down and you become my soldier. Maybe if I'm lucky I can convince you to become a lovely wife for me," He shot her a wink and words of rejection were already building on her tongue "Or, we kill you. Right here and now and leave you for the dead fucks."

Well. She probably should have seen that coming. Men like him wanted few things, and they usually fell along the same lines. From the way he spoke, while he was brash, vulgar and clearly larger than life, he seemed to have a vague, fucked up, set of morals. While he'd talked about fucking her, he'd never suggested forcing it upon her. But she could never be too careful. (Y/N) knew if she tried to run, she wouldn't get anywhere and they'd kill her anyway. Maybe if she went with them, they would patch her up, she'd work there for a while and make an escape. Maybe this guy was just an asshole and his community wasn't bad. From the look of his crew, not likely. Once again, she had limited options. She was getting sick of being in these situations. Baseball guy was watching her, glee in his eyes. However, he was growing impatient, and she could tell when he pushed the barbed wire slightly more into her chin, tearing into her skin, that she knew she had to give him an answer. (Y/N) wasn't stupid enough to deny she was scared. If she wasn't full of so much adrenaline, she would probably be paralysed by it. But she looked up at him, as much as she could with the barbed wire pricking her chin and met his eyes.

"I'll join you."

Being in that room felt too much like Terminus. If it hadn't been for the stitches in her leg, her brain could have tricked her into thinking she was there. It was silent, more so than Terminus. At Terminus, she could at least hear people in the courtyard and walking past the door. She could keep track of time through the sunlight under the door. Here, there was nothing. No light. No noise. Nothing. She didn't know how long she'd been there. They fed her, and at least here the food wasn't expired and once in a while (once a day maybe?) some guy in a scientist coat came in to check and change her bandages. The doctor had told her that Baseball guy was called Negan, but everyone was Negan, which made no fucking sense but she was sure it would in time, and they were in 'The Sanctuary'. Narcissistic bastard. (Y/N) had a strong suspicion that he wasn't supposed to be telling her by the hushed voice he used, but she didn't reject the information. It was the most someone had talked to her in days (hours? Who fucking knew anymore). There had been six doctors visits, so maybe six days if she was right about the time frame, until they pulled her out.

Danica was still storming ahead, but Ben had fallen back to walk beside (Y/N) and Lily, who had an arm around her daughter as she worked through the shock.

"Thank you for saving our asses back there," (Y/N) mumbled quietly and Ben looked to her with a small smile. He shrugged, and turned back to his sister, keeping a careful eye on her. She was pissed, and she got reckless when she was pissed.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe you can save my ass in the future as payback," He quipped lightly, and a small giggle escaped Lily. They were deep in the woods by now, and the dim flashlights Danica and Ben were holding were the only things stopping them from being completely blind. (Y/N) smiled at him. He seemed sweet, unlike his bitchy companion.

"Maybe," She responded faintly. Milky white eyes kept flashing in front of her, guts spilling from a stomach and she shook her head viciously to remove the image. Ben's face suddenly fell, and his eyebrows furrowed as he began running towards Danica. Lily and (Y/N) followed soon after as soon as they saw Danica holding someone at gunpoint. There were four of them, one of them stood in front, wearing a military-style uniform, holding a gun and a military-grade backpack on their back. Two of them stood in front of a little girl, no older than 6 or 7. One of them had short ginger hair with thick eyebrows, looking stony and glaring at Danica. The other kept his hand hovering near the ginger guy and the other hand in front of the kid. He had long, shoulder-length green hair that was starting to fade. (Y/N) rushed to Danica's side, narrowing her eyes at the strangers.

"Hey, hey, hey, look we don't want no trouble. Just wanna get down ta Georgia," The military one said, attempting to defuse the situation, placing the gun down on the floor.

"We have a kid for fuck's sake," The ginger one snapped and (Y/N) looked to Danica. When she didn't move to put the gun away, she put a hand on her arm to get her to lower it. Danica glared daggers at her but hesitantly lowered the gun. The little kid was looking scared, but she had these big green eyes. (Y/N) was never one for kids, she and Daryl had had that discussion before, but she was cute, and she could see herself getting attached to her.

"Hey, alright, it's okay. We just had a tough time, we're all a little on edge. I'm (Y/N) Dixon, this is my mom, Lily, and these two are Danica and Ben," (Y/N) introduced trying to give them a reassuring smile. The tension in the green-haired guy's shoulders deflated slightly and the little girl moved forward a little.

"I'm Kai Thompson," The military one smiled, picking their gun back up and shoving it in their holster. "This is Andrew and Oliver Stewart, and their daughter Anna."

Lily crouched down in front of Anna giving her a little grin, as she moved from behind her dads. She extended a hand to the little girl who took it reluctantly. Her dads were watching carefully, still not trusting her entirely.

"Heya Anna, I'm Lily," She said softly, shaking her hand gently. (Y/N) folded her arms slowly, giving the group a once over, and she noticed how Ben kept his hand over his knife.

"Where y'all headed?" Kai asked, and (Y/N) could pick out that strong Georgia drawl anywhere. It only made her think of Daryl and Merle, out in the middle of nowhere, possibly dead by now. She had to get home.

"Down to Georgia, you?" Ben replied, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) could feel eyes burning into the back of her head and it didn't take a genius to figure out it was Danica.

"Us too. Meant to be a safe zone in Atlanta," Kai answered, finally dragging their eyes away from Danica. There was a look of budding trust in their eyes, and (Y/N) could tell that they were going to keep each other safe.

When the door creaked open, (Y/N) squinted at the artificial light that flooded the room. Oh, this was way too much like Terminus. A deep chuckle made it abundantly clear about who was standing in the doorway, despite her current lack of sight. As her eyes adapted, she saw him extending a hand to her to help her up.

"C'mon gorgeous, think you've spent enough time in this shithole. Much too disgusting for a lady like you," Negan smirked, and she glared back at him but took his hand. He helped her to her feet, catching her as she toppled slightly on her bad leg. She could tell he was resisting the urge to make a shitty joke about 'falling for him' and she was glad he didn't say it. If he had, she probably would have hit him and sealed her fate as dead.

"Where are we going?" (Y/N)'s throat felt like acid, as she limped beside him. He was leading her back through the corridors deep in the Sanctuary and upstairs, which took her much longer than she'd hoped. Despite how long it took her, Negan didn't lose his patience this and with him still clutching that damn bat, that she'd learnt he called Lucille, she had to be grateful. He was even helping her when he could. However, after being alone for so long, she hated herself for relying on someone else, especially someone like him.

"You've got a big test, beautiful. Gotta make sure you belong here. And I really hope you do, because I wanna pound into you at least once even if you won't marry me," Negan grinned and part of her wished she were still in that cage. Sure, she was convinced she was going crazy in there, but at least she was away from his uncouth comments.

"Not interested," (Y/N) shot back, almost immediately, narrowing her eyes. That only made Negan laugh again, helping her up a small set of stairs.

"Well, that's a damn shame. Never say never though, princess. I'm sure I can convince you," Did he ever stop talking? She knew he was trying to get under her skin, and unfortunately, he was succeeding.

"You've got other wives, fuck them instead," She snapped, sarcastically. Shit, her smart mouth was going to get her killed someday. Pick your damn battles (Y/N).

"Just cause I've got wives doesn't mean I can't mess around some, right darling?" He returned. That cocky grin didn't fall from his face, but there was danger hiding in his eyes. Stop pushing, stop pushing.

"Clearly we have different definitions of marriage," With her response, Negan's eyes darted to her ring finger and he chuckled humourlessly when he saw the silver band. Well, she had just shown her hand. Good fucking job.

"Married, huh? What a shame. Always the hottest ones that are taken. He still out there?" He asked, voice light with glee but she looked away, glaring and biting her tongue. To (Y/N)'s relief, he dropped the subject as they reached a huge room, once again looking a bit too similar to the empty warehouses of Terminus.

Negan removed his hand from hers and moved her to be leant against the metal railing. Below them most if not all of the Saviours were gathered, looking scared and confused, and there was a guy tied to a chair in the dead centre of the group. (Y/N) managed to pick out a small huddle of women, all wearing strappy black dresses and tall heels. His wives. The thought made her squeamish as she looked at the discomfort on their faces. All of a sudden, he slammed Lucille on the metal railing beside her, making her jump out of her skin. He placed a hand on her back, but she limped to the side, just out of his reach. She didn't want his filthy hands on her. Everyone's heads shot up, and they fell to one knew. What kind of cult-level shit was this?

"As all of you know, when we save someone new, when we get a new recruit... they have to prove their loyalty. You know what's about to happen, and you know it isn't going to be pretty. But we got a rule breaker in our midst and a new recruit, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" Negan started down the stairs just beside where (Y/N) was positioned, and she watched him cautiously. "Now, I wish I could let this slide, I wish I could ignore the rules, but this man here betrayed us. Our little AJ here decided he didn't want to spy on our friends at the Kingdom anymore and made a runner! Now, you all know that one of the things I can't stand is a traitor. We're all we have in this shitty world and we can't be turning our backs on one another! Why can't I ignore our little rule-breaker here?"

"The rules keep us alive!" Seriously, this had to be a cult. (Y/N) didn't know how much longer she could stay here. They were all fucking insane.

"That's right! We survive, we save others, we bring civilisation! Rules keep us alive," The guy in the chair, AJ, eyes were darting around, filled to the brim with terror. "And we need to show that to our newest member! So, it's time to punish our dear AJ, and time for our newest member to prove her loyalty. Arat, hand me the saw."

The woman (Y/N) had seen at the gas station the other day strutted over, handing Negan a sharp saw, with the hint of a smirk on her mouth. God, what was wrong with the people here? (Y/N) felt her blood run cold as Negan took the saw and stepped towards AJ, who was starting to panic, wriggling in his bonds. Negan looked up to her, and he stifled a laugh at how tense she was. Without any other words, Negan pulled AJ's sleeve up, and rest the saw on his arm. He wasn't. He couldn't. But she was wrong. Negan brought the saw down, slicing it into the guy's arm. AJ let out a blood-curdling scream, and (Y/N) felt her blood run cold. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel panic sinking into her lungs. There was red everywhere, dripping down his arm, onto the floor, staining Negan's shirt, his scruff, his jacket. He just kept screaming and screaming and screaming. She couldn't breathe. The sickening noise of bones snapping and seperating, of flesh tearing filled the air. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Eventually, the guy passed out, just as Negan yanked his dismembered arm off. (Y/N) was frozen in spot. What the fuck, what the fuck. He looked at her again grinning and used AJ's arm to wave at her. (Y/N) managed to drag her eyes away and looked around the room. The saviour's faces were all blank, no one showing any emotion apart from Negan's wives, who were crying in horror.

"Doc, take him away, fix him up. Fellas, bring it in!" The doctor who had been checking (Y/N)'s leg started untying AJ and quickly whisked him away on a stretcher that had been placed to one side. There was an all too familiar noise of a snarler behind her, and (Y/N)'s head snapped to look at the doorway Negan had to lead her through earlier, and there stood two saviours leading a snarler on a weird adapted leash. It was reaching out, teeth-gnashing, and she tried to scurry back, but her stupid leg decided she had moved too quickly. She tripped and started to fall back but was stopped by Negan once again. She hadn't heard him come back upstairs, but to be fair she was more focused on the snarler. He wrapped an arm around her waist while she tried to move away, and she thrashed slightly. She had no fucking weapon, what the fuck was he doing? She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe.

"See, if you're going to be one of us, you can't be afraid to get your hands dirty, and do every little task I ask of you," Negan announced, handing AJ's arm to her. "Feed it to the dead fuck."

"You alright, princess? You look pale," Negan asked. He'd moved her to what looked like a meeting room after she'd...

(Y/N) didn't say a word. She still hadn't fully comprehended what just happened and she was just staring at the floor, silently. She couldn't reply. Even if she wanted to. Red everywhere, flesh tearing, bones cracking and creaking. Negan walked over to where she sat, placing Lucille on the table right in front of her, before he placed his hands on her shoulders, to which she'd flinched much to his satisfaction, and leant down next to her ear.

"Okay, better question. Who are you?" He whispered, and she squirmed at the feeling of his breath on her neck.

"I'm Negan."

"Hey Spencer, are Aaron and Eric back yet?" (Y/N) questioned, jogging over to the gate. They should have been back two days ago, but the storm must have stopped them and she couldn't deny how worried she'd been. Deanna had let her into Alexandria about two weeks ago, just after Negan had sent her on her task. She shouldn't be getting attached. She knew that. And she knew it would make it all hurt later, but despite how weak everyone in this place, and how little they knew of the struggles outside the walls, they were the first trustworthy people she'd met since Kai and the others. Spencer let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

"If they'd been back, do you think you wouldn't be the first to know?" He snapped, and she raised her eyebrows, daring him to keep pushing. She'd beaten his ass twice before, she would happily do it again. The way he and his brother dealt with runs was ridiculous, and they'd fought over it on more than one occasion. Deanna had nearly kicked her out the second time it got ugly.

In the short time she'd been there, she'd found herself growing close to Aaron and Eric. When she arrived, Deanna could sense something was suspicious about her. As much as the woman irritated her, (Y/N) couldn't deny her sharp wit. She'd put her in with Aaron and Eric after the latter had offered, in some weird hope that they would stop her from getting into trouble. (Y/N) had to hand it to her, apart from a few odd occasions, the couple had been keeping her out of fights, especially when she first joined the community. After so long out there, she was always on guard, and while she didn't think she'd be able to ever get rid of that, she felt safer here. From the snarlers at the very least.

After Nicholas walked over to take his shift on guard duty, Spencer shoved past her. That guy had serious issues. With a small sigh, (Y/N) turned around and walked back into her neighbourhood. She had to get back to her job. Even though she'd hated the idea of working again, of pretending that the world hadn't gone to hell, after a few days, she had started falling into a routine. Since she had much more experience out there than anyone in the whole of Alexandria (not even Eric or Aaron really had any idea what it was like despite being out there so often), she went on runs with Spencer, Nicholas and Aidan, though she knew there was something slightly fishy going on there. Half the time Aidan and Nicholas would wander off somewhere and leave her with Spencer. Spencer only came on runs sometimes, but he would share looks with the other men before they left. Part of her had been tempted to go with them, but she got an awful feeling that prying would do her little good. Especially if they started prying into her business because of it. That would get them killed. And probably her too.

Every week, she had to meet someone from The Sanctuary with information about Alexandria. He needed to know whether it was worth making a deal with them. At first, it had been every two days, and Negan had come himself, to ensure she didn't try anything. But after a few days, he started sending random Saviours, most of which she'd never seen before and extended the time between. She hated them. Every inch of her soul hated herself for ever accepting Negan's offer. She should have died that morning. That would have been better than living with the constant crawling guilt every time anyone showed her any kindness. Or the nightmares of AJ and that snarler that would haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Part of her was tempted to run away, but she knew they'd find her. Negan wouldn't let her go, now he had her unless she was very lucky. But as she'd learnt the past few years, she definitely wasn't.

When she wasn't on runs, she was helping run Alexandria, not that Deanna ever realised it. (Y/N) had learnt that suggesting was more effective than demanding. If she made it sound like it was Deanna's idea, it was more likely to get through to her. That was the only reason some of her ideas had even gotten put into place, like putting locks on houses of the elderly to lock at night in case they passed and turned in their sleep.

"(Y/N)!" A familiar voice sounded and (Y/N) turned around to see Enid jogging over. The teen was known to be extremely antisocial, and according to one of Jessie's sons, Ron, it had taken her nearly three weeks to say anything when she first joined. But for some reason, she'd gotten attached to (Y/N), and she stuck by her as much as she could. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew how much the post-apocalyptic world outside the walls sucked. Enid came to walk beside her as she started heading back to the house she shared with Aaron and Eric. God, she had to stop getting attached. They would hate her later.

"You doing okay, kiddo? I thought Pete was meant to be teaching you and Denise some medical crap?" (Y/N) questioned, shoving her hands in her pockets. Enid shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"He was, but he only wanted to teach Denise because I'm 'just a kid'" She grumbled, using sarcastic air quotations that made (Y/N) chortle. Enid gave a small smile, one that only (Y/N) really got to see.

"Well, kid, you already know how I feel about that man," The two continued walking, exchanging repetitive conversation about the pantry, Pete, Enid bitched about Ron and Sam before they reached her house. They stepped inside and collapsed onto the couch.

"Hey, I was wondering, next time you're on a run, could you try and grab some more comics? I've nearly read all mine, and Sam keeps stealing them," Enid asked, bashfully and (Y/N) smiled. The kid played adult more often than not, and it was nice seeing her actually acting like a child.

"Of course, Enid, I'll see what I can find," She answered, and Enid went to thank her when Denise came crashing through the front door, making the pair jump to their feet. Shit, walkers? An attack?

"They're back and Eric is in the infirmary, c'mon!" Denise dashed off again, and (Y/N) was hot on her heels, sprinting to the infirmary. What the hell did that idiot do now? How bad was he injured? When they reached the infirmary, (Y/N) didn't pause for even a second, and went barreling to Eric's side. Pete was hovering near his feet, but she couldn't help but notice how deathly pale her friend was.

"What did you do, you dumbass?" She demanded, but Eric could hear the pure relief in her voice, and he smiled back at her, despite the small glare on her face.

"Just took a page out of your book," He teased, but let out a groan as Pete started setting his ankle, which she was starting to guess was broken.

"Be careful, asshole," She hissed, and Pete sent her a deathly glare. Eric put a hand over hers, to reassure her. She knew it wasn't Pete's fault, but she was still winding down from the worry.

After about half an hour, Eric was moved home, with the help of Denise, Enid and (Y/N), and she hadn't moved from his side, except to get him anything he needed. Enid had left to give them some space. According to Eric, Aaron had found a new group of about 14 people, and at some point, they'd split up and half of them had found and saved him from getting eaten by snarlers. She made a mental note to thank them later. Aaron had gone with the group for their interviews. Yeah, she remembered hers. Even then she'd found Deanna pretentious. Eric was the one who noticed Aaron walking back to the house, and he laughed when (Y/N) sprinted out of the house to nearly tackle him in a hug. Aaron had to step back a few steps so he didn't fall over, and he was more than a little surprised. She didn't show affection very often, but he supposed he'd probably scared her by being out for so long. Over his shoulder, she couldn't help but notice some kid in a sheriffs hat with his dad. Hell, he looked a lot like that kid from Terminus. But she was probably imagining it.

"You can't just stay in here until my ankle heals, you need to leave, do your job, actually talk to people. Besides, Denise is bringing my crutches later," Eric stated, folding his arms. Aaron was stood behind him from where he sat on the couch, and they were ganging up on her.

"When you first got here, we didn't stay here every day while you had that gash in your leg," Aaron agreed, and (Y/N) started messing with her ring absently, narrowing her eyes.

"You barely knew me then. It's been two weeks and I know you better now," She shot back, starting to pace slightly.

"Okay, look. If you go out for at least an hour, you can come back and check on me. I can survive for an hour, as long as I have a book or something," Eric tried to reason, and (Y/N) paused, holding his gaze. Fuck, they weren't going to let this go until she went outside. It was two against one, and she wasn't going to win this one.

"Alright, fine. One hour, but then I'm coming right back," She snapped grumpily, and the men both grinned. "But let it be known, I'm not happy about this."

"Oh, believe me, we know," Aaron laughed, before kissing Eric's cheek and heading out the door. (Y/N) went to walk out but Eric caught her arm.

"I'll be fine, (Y/N). I promise," He stated and she sighed, leaning down to give him a brief hug before nodding and waking out the door after Aaron. He was stood out front, talking to a large group. Must be the new group, since she knew all the faces here by now. The kid (Y/N) had seen yesterday raised his arm, waving at her with a kind smile, and she waved back, beaming. Then it dropped and she froze, as her eyes caught with some in the small crowd. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She had to be hallucinating. This couldn't be real

"Daryl?" She heard someone say, but it sounded like her. She couldn't move. This was it. She'd lost her mind, she'd gone crazy. She felt her eyes building with tears, as the breeze blew her hair into her face.

His crossbow, the one he'd taught her how to use so many years ago now, fell to the ground with a clatter, and suddenly he was moving, running, closer and closer until he stopped right in front of her. Her eyes darted all over his body. This felt so real. Could it be real? There was a moment of dead silence between them, where she couldn't hear the confused muttering of the group behind her. Where she couldn't see the wide grin on Aaron's face as he put the pieces together. Then suddenly, Daryl launched forward, yanking her into him so tightly she thought she felt her ribs creak.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. She wasn't crazy. He was there, he was right fucking there, holding her so tightly, a hand on the back of her head keeping her locked against him. Her fingers stabbed into the back of his vest, and she was whispering against his neck without even realising it.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're here," Over and over. She could feel him trembling and tears dripping onto her neck but she didn't care. Her Daryl was alive. Her husband was alive.

"Holy shit," Daryl choked out, and she felt like she could have cried. She never thought she'd hear that gruff, southern drawl again. She let out a teary laugh and she pulled back just enough so she could see him properly. Her hands drifted from his back to hold his cheeks, thumbs running over his cheeks, still laced with dirt and grime.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I'm going to kill you, Dixon," She said with a smile before she tugged him forward into a rough kiss. His hands shifted to her hips and he held on so tightly. Like she would disappear if he let go for even a second. Behind them, she could hear Aaron's voice, filled with glee, and the voice of a woman in a similar tone. Confused voices, borderline shouting, and the sound of footsteps running over. But none of it mattered.

He was alive.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

(Some of the tags didn’t work last chapter for some reason I’m sorry!)

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 2

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m also looking for a beta reader or two for this story, if you’re interested in that! Just shoot me a message or leave a comment and I’ll get in touch!

Word Count: 2455

Warnings: None

Posted: 12 Dec 2020

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Eventually YN fell asleep, but she couldn’t remember when. When she woke up, however, she was laying down, with the wolf’s massive head resting on her stomach. Absently, she strokes the soft fur around his ears, sighing and curling into the blanket. She can’t help but love the feeling of it between her fingers, smiling to herself as she thinks semi-clearly about the events of the night for the first time. 

YN is completely shocked by the events thinking about them now. This giant wolf not only understands her, but he talks back. He was comfortable in her home, the doors were big enough to take him in easily, and he was oddly sweet, in making her finish the chicken. And to top it all off, he was severely injured! Taking a quick glance at the bandages, YN has a passing wonder as to how much healing the wolf had done overnight. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf lets out a short growl, and YN jumps. The massive head lifts, looking her in the eye, her hand still tangled in the fur behind his ears. It seems like forever that the two stare at each other, eyes locked, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. 

He breaks the intense eye contact, turning his great head and yawning before standing. YN watches in awe as the wolf stretches, careful of his injury, before he turns back to look at her expectantly. 

‘Eat?’ 

The voice, low and clear and much less pained, startles the girl into motion. 

“Yes of course, let me make you some meat. How’s beef sound? I’ve still got a lot of that in the fridge.” YN stands, quickly clearing the blankets and pillow from the ground. Hearing no clear objections, YN heads into the kitchen, ready to prepare enough food to feed an army. 

She doesn’t pay too much attention to where the wolf is or what he is doing, but she can feel his eyes following her from one place to the other, and she can feel the draft from the door that he had nudged open. Quietly, she explains what she’s doing to the wolf, wanting him to be comfortable. 

She couldn’t have explained why she felt the need to tell the wolf everything she was doing, but for some reason she felt that it was important that this wolf trusted her. 

It is because of this that YN is in the middle of explaining why she prefers to use one seasoning brand over the other when the wolf lets out an ear-shatteringly loud howl. She flinches so hard she almost spills the cooking meat, hands flying to cover her sensitive ears as she whips around to find where the wolf is and what he’s doing. 

The great wolf, his beautiful black coat shining in the morning light, is standing just outside her back door, eyes gliding over the trees as he lets out another howl, his face turning up to the sky. He looks like he is waiting for a response, and YN can tell that he got one when his head snaps sharply to the left of the small path YN loved to take. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf turns around, padding back into the house and partially shutting the door behind him. He leaves enough room that he could stick his nose or paw into the crack and open it if he needed to, giving himself an out. YN lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the wolf returns to lazily lying in a patch of sun in the kitchen, his attention fully on YN and her movements while she makes the food. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the wolf to leave just yet. 

                                                           ~~~

The rest of the morning and the afternoon go well, with no hitches or startles. YN quickly falls into the habit of telling the wolf all the things she’s doing, not wanting him to be startled by anything she’s doing, and the wolf just watches her, not reacting much to what she does, and instead occasionally bumping his head into her hand for a light scratch behind the ears. 

When YN changed his bandage after they ate, she was shocked to see how much he had healed. While the wound was still clearly very tender, it looked like it had been healing for weeks or months instead of just a few hours. YN shook it off, deciding that it was just some strange ability this even stranger wolf had. It had been shown to her clearly before this point that he was special in more ways than one, so why not have accelerated healing? 

After the bandages were changed, and YN told the wolf just how well he was healing, the pair went back into the living area. YN took a seat on the lovely leather couch her uncle had left her, taking her usual seat and telling the wolf that he could come up if he wanted and was able. With a small noise that YN couldn’t place, the wolf clambered onto the sofa, laying his great head in her lap again. 

Without a second thought, YN turns on the TV and absently begins to stroke the fur around the wolf’s ears, relaxing at the repetitive motion and mindless noise. Together, they sit like that for a few hours, both of them resting and healing and mulling over the events that had happened to both of them. 

                                                             ~~~

There they stayed, for a long while, both half asleep and mulling over the events of the past 24 hours. YN was slowly coming to terms with everything that had been happening around her, with all of the weird things this strange, inky wolf could do. Absently, she wondered what else the wolf could do, and if the fanciful bedtime stories her uncle used to tell her were actually true. 

The wolf seemed to be resting peacefully, seemingly completely unaware of the turmoil swirling around in YN’s head. The wolf was just waiting, wondering when the rest of his pack would get there, and what the determination about YN would be. He knew that, despite his growing fondness for the strange human, if the rest of the pack didn’t share his liking for her, he would be forced to do things he would rather not do. 

When the door bursts open, YN might as well have jumped completely out of her skin. When before there was relative silence and peace, the room now had an unknown number of bodies snarling and pawing around. YN was understandably terrified, not having any idea as to what was going on or how that would affect her. 

The black wolf that she had been sharing her home with for the past day rose to his feet, eyeing up the other wolves that had entered the room. YN could feel the tension as the black wolf snarled, snapping as the other wolves did the same. All she could think about were the sharp, gleaming teeth and huge bodies around her in a way that was almost suffocating. 

Fear was rolling off the girl in waves, to the point that the wolves all were put on edge, looking for a threat deserving of that great amount of terror. 

It takes a couple minutes, but eventually all the bodies in the room calm down. YN gets off the couch and heads towards the kitchen, giving herself the illusion of an escape that puts her mind at ease. At this point, she is able to see that a  beautiful grey wolf and two light brown wolves have joined the black wolf she had opened her home to. 

Her living area is filled with the sounds of the wolves “talking” to each other, which YN decides not to break until there is a reason to. 

‘Who are you?’

Once again, the voice is directly in YN’s head, but this time it isn’t the black wolf. It seems to be coming from the grey wolf, but YN couldn’t be sure of that. 

“I’m YN, I moved in a few months ago. My uncle left me the house when he passed.” She answers simply, eyes flitting between the new wolves as “her” wolf comes to stand beside her. There seems to be some sort of silent communication going on between them that YN isn’t privy to, though she feels that it’s important for some reason she can’t place her finger on. 

‘Niece? Good.’ 

The same voice is in her head, and the fierce look in the eyes of the wolves fades into a softer, more general one. YN is confused by the statement, and the actions, remaining on edge, awkwardly shifting on her feet. 

“So, uh, do you guys want some of the beef I made earlier? I don’t know how far you guys have gone or have yet to go but food’s always a good idea, right?” YN can feel her ears burning with an unknown embarrassment, as she looks between all of the wolves before her. 

One of the light brown wolves yelps and heads towards YN, who puts her hands up on instinct, fear rising in her chest that she was going to be the one on the menu. Instead of attacking her through, the massive animal licks her palms, yelping some more as the word ‘eat’ is exclaimed into her mind. 

Letting out a little giggle and petting the massive head before her, YN is put more at ease, smiling as she turns and walks into the kitchen properly. 

“Well, I’m not quite sure how I’ll do this, because I only have one of these big bowls and there are four of you here, but I’ll figure it out.” YN muses to herself, again telling the wolves everything she’s doing so they don’t think she’s up to something, completely unaware of the fact that each and every one of the wolves in her home can read every one of her thoughts with complete and utter ease. 

“Oh! I have a baking sheet! I can just put it on there and you guys can share, yeah?” YN asks, dropping to her knees to rustle through a cabinet and find the baking sheet in question. Hearing no complaints, YN prepares the meat for the wolves, placing it carefully on the floor, holding onto one corner so it wouldn’t slide around on them. The two brown wolves quickly move to take tentative bites, the more playful of the two occasionally tossing his head over towards YN to receive a few scratches before returning to his eating. 

Once they finish, YN takes and dutifully cleans all the dishes she had made that day, ears straining to make sure she wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but yet trusting them enough to turn her back to them. She sings softly as she works, playful kid songs that she used to sing with her grandparents as she did her chores, inadvertently playing those loving memories for the wolves in her room as she does so. 

By the time she has finished with her chores, she turns to find the black wolf asleep directly behind her in a nice patch of sun, the grey wolf is carefully watching her actions from the corner of the room, and the two brown wolves laying further away, also having found nice patches of sun to lay in. YN smiles to herself, finding the sight of the wolves lounging in her space oddly sweet, before stepping over the black wolf, crouching down beside the great beast, giving him a few soft pets to partially rouse him, waiting for his eyes to open before letting him know that she would be checking his wounds and changing his bandages. 

She could feel the shift in tone as the great wolf let out a bit of a whine as the bandages come off, the others perking up a bit to watch what YN was doing, immediately ready to jump to his defense if she were to try to hurt the wounded wolf any more. 

Weary of the eyes on her, YN sets about making sure that she has everything she needs to clean the wound and change the bandages with as little pain to the wolf as possible. 

“Alright wolf, this is the part that stings, I’m so sorry.” She mutters under her breath as she does what has to be done, impressed by the amount of healing that’s been done already. 

“At this rate, you’ll be good to go by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” YN sighs, taking the old bandages and throwing them out, before turning towards the wolves again. 

Checking the time, YN shakes her head and explains to the wolves that she is going to go to the study and write, as that’s what she usually does during this time, and that they are welcome to come with her if they want to. Turning on her heel, she heads towards the study on the second floor, fully expecting the wolves to either leave, or to just stay where they were. She really did have work to get done, regardless of the strange wolves that seemed way too comfortable in her space. Deadlines were deadlines, and she really didn’t want to have to crunch out a crap chapter for her editor, regardless of everything going on around her. 

What YN didn’t expect was for the black wolf to follow right behind her, limping slightly as he goes, but following nonetheless. Or for the two brown wolves to half-bark at each other, following behind their inky counterpart much more playfully, bumping into each other in a way that YN would have said must have been painful. Or for the grey wolf to follow behind them, much more somber than the duo in front of him, moving smoothly and surprisingly silently through the house.

“You do know there’s no sun to lay in, the study is the innermost room. Please don’t mess anything up, if you can help it, the study is my private place, really.” YN speaks much softer than she had been, causing the wolves to pay more attention to her words than before, feeling the importance of them. 

She opens the door, smiling to herself at the sight of the beautiful old books, the scattered journals, the overstuffed-and-ancient chairs, the slightly dusty paintings on the walls from artists YN couldn’t hope to know, the soft lighting, everything. It was comforting, but packed full of memories, some of which were still too painful and fresh to think of. 

YN heads over to the giant desk, opening her laptop and settling into the seat. She was aware of the four pairs of eyes that followed her movements, and she similarly followed theirs as they each found areas to curl up in. The grey wolf stayed by the door, facing it as if to make sure nobody tried to come in. The two brown wolves circled around the room a bit, before settling down by the overstuffed couch against one of the walls, both of them moving around periodically. Something in the back of YN’s mind told her that they were young, restless in a way that gave away their age.

It was the black wolf, however, that captured most of YN’s attention. He decided to place himself directly behind the huge desk chair, similarly positioned to the grey wolf, in the way that he seemed to be there for some sort of protection. She thought it was strange, the way these giant wolves were being so gentle, so protective. 

They settle in like that, with YN quickly getting immersed in the chapter she needed to finish, words flowing out of her in a way that made her feel almost buzzed. She loved that feeling- the feeling of creating, of making something out of nothing and breathing life into something so dead as a piece of paper or a computer screen. 

The whole scene was peaceful, in her opinion. She felt protected, she had ideas flowing out of her, and despite the fact the desk and it’s accompanying chair were both way too big for her and a little uncomfortable, she absolutely adored the study and all it had to offer. For whatever reason, it felt to her like home- the wolves in her space, the ideas, the old-artsy style of the room, all of it.