#i want them to have a devastating heart breaking story though

[vinestaff]

i havent seen anybody do this yet

[helen-with-an-a]

I Am An Adult pt 7

Hiiiii. I hope you enjoyed part 6. As I mentioned, this was originally one long-ass story, so please imagine you're reading it as a continuation if that makes sense. Once again, a massive shout out to @lyak12 for helping me out so much and hyping me up - forehead smooches for you. I think technically the final part of the official series, but I do have an epilogue idea that I want to write too, so it's not quite the end of the story (again inspired by @lyak12). This was tough to write emotionally, so just a little heads up.

I just want to say thank you so much for the love and support you guys have given me. It means a lot. Please let me know what you thought of it <3

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Barça Femeni x Reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: R faces the consequences of her actions

TW: This was emotional to write, so it might be a little emotional to read.

Word Count: 6k

The next few days were … interesting. It was clear to everyone that you and Alexia had spoken in some capacity. You were still avoiding conversation with most people, but the hostility between you and the captain had eased somewhat. You still partnered with the trainers and remained silent during breaks, but the ice was clearly thawing. It made people approach you more. Not outright, but you weren’t blocked from conversations. The side eyes and cold shoulders were no longer a signature part of training. The olive branches were slowly being offered out; a small praising smile or a water bottle passed your way. No one was brave enough to be your partner just yet, but that was fine. The only ones that weren’t fine were Lucy … and, by extension, Ona. You longed to talk to your best friend … if you were still allowed to call her that. But she remained solidly by Lucy’s side. You couldn’t blame her, though. You had made your bed, and now you had to lie in it.

It all came to a head during the final training session before you travelled to Zaragoza for the Cope de la Reina final. Jona had instructed everyone to work hard but to be aware of their own limits. Everyone had nodded solemnly; the last thing anyone wanted was an injury before a big match like that. Well … everyone, bar Lucy. It didn’t help that you played opposite positions; she was a right back and you a left winger. But so far, Jona had recognised the animosity between you, too, so you had been on the same team to avoid any confrontation … until now, anyway. To his defence, you seemed to both be over it. But, oh, how he was wrong.

Lucy’s anger had shifted from surface-level, emotional, visible rage to that deep, raw, pure wrath. She was aghast at how easily everyone was seemingly forgiving you. To her, you had disappeared on them, leaving chaos and devastation in your wake, returned and with a bat of your eyelids, everyone had forgotten the torment you had caused. Not her, though. Hell would freeze over before she could forget Ona’s heartbreak. Ona’s sobs were frequent in the reoccurring nightmare she had been having the past few days. She was getting little to no sleep, and with that, her ire towards you increased. You were the source of all her issues.

You had become accustomed to Lucy’s hard tackles and unnecessary shoves during training. It was inevitable, even with Jona and the other staff's interference, that you had faced Lucy a little. During rondos, she always managed to step on your feet a little or kick the back of your heel. If you were on the ground at some point during a training session, Lucy’s back was likely the first thing you saw when you looked up. It was starting to get to you a little. But what could you do? You had brought this upon yourself. Your heart sank when Jona called out the names. You were preparing to do a 15-minute 11 vs 11. Jona had pressed the notion that this was a chance to practice the skills and technical formations you had been practising all week. As you stood in your designated place, you inadvertently caught Lucy’s eye. She glowered at you, cracking her knuckles and rolling her shoulders. You were about to die. You knew it. The whistle went, and your team began your press forward. You could see your team's reluctance to pass you the ball; Lucy’s behaviour had not gone unnoticed. But eventually, you had to be included. It happened just outside the makeshift box. You had received a ball from Patri to make a cross for Mariona … or at least that was the plan.

Two sets of sharp studs crashed into your ankle, wiping your feet out from under you. The team watched in horror as you dropped. You landed heavily on your hip before your head hit the floor. You wanted to scream, but you wouldn’t give Lucy that satisfaction. You whacked the grass, biting back the pain. It wasn’t broken. You had snapped your collarbone once when you were still in youth age groups, and this wasn’t like that. But you had a feeling you wouldn’t play in the final. Everyone around you was frozen. Cata and Pina seemed locked in place, half wanting to help but the other, louder half telling them to stay exactly where they were. Marta and Caro looked shocked. Shocked that Lucy would do such a dangerous thing so close to two major finals. Alexia looked a mix of anger and sadness. Anger at Lucy for her behaviour; anger at you for not talking to her about it; sadness that once such good friends seemed to be enemies.

“Lucy. Ya terminaste por hoy. Vete a casa.” Jona’s voice was curt – sounding like the true manager he was. “Todos los demás, tomen un descanso para tomar agua.” No one moved. It was Ona who eventually stepped up.

“Amor, ir a ducharse,” she said softly, like you would to an angry child or wild animal.

“Why? So you can go check on her?” She said it with such contempt and disgust you reeled back, as much as you could, still on the ground anyway.

“I-” Ona began.

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Lucy stuck her hand up, stopping Ona from talking. “I don’t understand how you can forgive her so easily. What she did was vile. And you’re letting her off the hook like that.” She was shouting now. You couldn’t let Lucy’s anger be misplaced. You couldn’t be the cause of a rift … or potential end … of their relationship. You clambered to your feet, hopping slightly on your uninjured ankle.

“Stop it, Lucy.” Your voice was surprisingly firm. She turned on you. “Don’t shout at Ona when you want to scream at me.”

“You want me to scream at you?” she asked rhetorically. You lifted your gaze to meet hers. “Fine, I’ll scream at you,” she took a deep breath. “What you did was inexcusable. Sure, you got some shitty news. But you don’t get to disappear like that. You are childish and immature. You hurt the people around you, people you are supposed to be your best friends. You can't just run away every time things get tough. Do you think you're the only one with problems? We all have our issues, but we talk to our friends. We don’t leave them behind like they are dirt. What if something had happened to you? Did you even consider how we would feel? No, you didn’t. You were too wrapped up in your own self-pity to think about anyone else. That’s not what friends do. I didn’t sit up every night watching Ona cry herself to sleep because you were missing for everyone to forgive you in an instant. I didn’t watch Cata and Bruna and Jana go crazy driving around Barcelona trying to find you to let everyone forget about what you did. I didn’t watch Alexia phone around hospitals in the area with a description of you to excuse your behaviours as soon as you return. You were selfish and reckless, and you showed us exactly how little we mean to you. We worried ourselves sick, we tore ourselves apart trying to find you, and you didn’t give a damn. Don’t think for a second that you can waltz back into my life and everything will be fine. Actions have consequences, and you need to face yours.” You could tell she had more to say.

You blinked. You felt like you wanted to cry, but no tears were forthcoming. Each accusation struck like a hammer blow, chipping away at your defences. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your stomach churned with a sickening blend of regret and fear. You tried to hold her gaze, but the intensity of her anger made it feel like your very soul was being seared. Her words echoed in your mind, each one a painful reminder of the hurt you had caused. The mention of Ona crying herself to sleep, the frantic search efforts by Cata, Bruna, and Jana, and Alexia's desperate calls to hospitals—all painted a vivid picture of the chaos and suffering you had unleashed. If you hadn’t felt horrific before, you certainly did now. Your throat tightened, and your eyes stung with the threat of tears. You wanted to speak, apologise, and somehow make things right, but you just ... couldn’t. You felt small and insignificant, dwarfed by the level of your mistakes. The raw pain and disappointment in her voice cut through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Got nothing to say?” She asked, chuckling slightly. “You know what … I’m glad Barça isn’t offering you a renewal. You don’t deserve it.” The words cut like a knife, burnt like fire and stung like a thousand wasp stings.

“Enough, Lucia.” Alexia’s loud voice cut across.

“Whatever” Lucy scoffed turning on her heels and walking back towards the building.

No one moved, no one blinked, no one dared breathe.

“Did anyone else see that vein in her forehead? It was massive!” Vicky asked jovially, the tension breaking in an instant.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lucy that angry,” Mariona commented during the enforced water break. She had watched as you hobbled off to the medical room. You had refused help from anyone, and it was painful to watch you slowly trudge inside.

“I remember when we were at City and the doctors were telling her how truly fucked her knee was …” Keira reminisced sadly. “I had thought that was the angriest I would ever see her. She punched a wall in the gym; she was lucky she didn’t break her hand.” She shook her head at the memory. “But this … when Lucy sees the people she loves in pain … she’d burn the world down for them.”

“This is her burning the world down?” Patri asked.

“She’s definitely got the lighter ready, that’s for sure.”

“What happened after Lucy punched the wall?” Salma asked carefully. Keira chuckled, laughing at the memory.

“Gee put a frame around it and added a little label like they do in art galleries.” The whole group let out a tense laugh. Of course, Georgia would do that. “Alex says it’s still there too.”

Your initial assessment was right; you were ruled out from playing in the Copa final. You sighed but accepted the physio’s words with little fuss. You winced a little as they strapped it, grimacing at the movements. Lucy’s words echoed around your head, bouncing across your awareness as they played like a video in your mind’s eye. She had looked so angry … her eyes were filled with so much hurt. Hurt that you had caused. Of course, she thought you didn’t deserve a renewal. You didn’t deserve one. That was a fact of which you were sure.

“Tómatelo con calma durante unos días. Lo reevaluaremos después del partido.," the physio advised, giving your shoulder a final pat before standing up. You nodded absentmindedly, your thoughts far from the clinical room. You weren’t too upset about missing out on the final, to be honest. With all the extra … drama, issues, problems … everything, you didn’t think you should be playing anyway. You rolled your shoulders, hoping to ease some of the tension. Everything ached … not physically, although you were sure the extra time you had spent being sent to the floor was helping, but in a soul-weary, deep, painful way. A way that you weren’t quite sure how to fix. A way that you didn’t know if it could be fixed. You are childish and immature. You were childish. You were immature. God, you had spent so long wishing, wanting, demanding the team look at you like an adult, and this is what you do in return. This is how you repay them? Maybe they are better off without you next season. Your mind drifted back to that conversation with Lucy. Her voice, usually so warm and encouraging, had been cold and harsh. You felt a knot tightening in your chest, the weight of the past weeks pressing down hard. You knew she had every right to feel betrayed, to doubt you. The anger in Lucy’s green eyes haunted you. It was a mirror reflecting your own failures, not just as a player but as a person. You replayed every moment in your head, wishing you could go back and change things and make different choices. But you couldn’t. All you could do now was face the consequences.

And Ona, what about her? Your best friend. You tried not to imagine her face. Her warm brown eyes and wide smile were replaced by devastated, tear-filled expressions and anxious looks. God, what had you done? The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless ache that seemed to have no end. You could almost hear Ona’s voice; her playful teasing turned into something sharper, something pained. You had let her down. She had always been there for you, through the highs and lows, and now… now you had pushed her away too. The one time you truly, desperately, urgently needed her to help navigate this … you had disappeared. Like a ghost.

You weren’t sure how long you sat on the edge of the physio bed. Long enough for the team to have cleared out of the changing rooms, you think. You really should go shower. But you couldn’t move. Everything felt heavy. You were too tired to push yourself off the padded table, too weary to make the short walk back to the changing room, too fatigued to get into the car and drive home. A knock on the door pulled you from your spiral.

“Can I come in?” Ona. You looked up, reminding Ona of a meerkat on patrol. You smiled weakly, nodding and gesturing to the bed opposite. She didn’t take it, just shifting to stand on the other side of the door, ready to run if she needed to.

“Lo siento,” she murmured eventually. Why was she apologising? You were the one that needed to fix everything.

“You’re not the one who should be apologising,” you muttered dejectedly.

“I know, but Lucia is –”

“No, no, no, no,” you rushed out, cutting her off. “It’s me. I’m the one who should be apologising,” you corrected yourself. “I’m a horrible person. I am a truly awful person. I mean, who does that to their friends? Who disappears for days without telling them what was wrong?” You swallowed, taking a deep breath before surging on. “I need to apologise to you, Oni, uh, Ona … um,” you chuckled awkwardly. You cleared your throat. “I am so, truly, deeply, honestly sorry for what I did to you. I hate myself for it. God, now I’m crying again.” you said humorously, the joke falling flat as you wiped tears away. “I’m just so sorry. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you, to Lucy, to Alexia, to the team. I don’t even know if you want me to make it up to you or if I should just let you live your life without me. You’d probably be better off,” you rambled. “I hurt everyone around me, and I have no explanation for it. Nothing beyond that; I genuinely didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking; I was just so overwhelmed with it all, and being here in Barcelona made it so much worse, so I just left, and I didn’t look at my phone because it was easier not to. It wasn’t happening if I wasn’t looking at my phone. It’s no excuse, and I’m not trying to make one up, I promise. It was wrong, and I know that. I know I fucked up so badly, and I’ve probably ruined the best things to ever happen to me, and now you all hate me, and I’m so, so sorry,” you sobbed. You hadn’t even noticed Ona had moved closer to you, her own tears streaming down her face, until her arms wrapped around you. “No, no,” you pushed her off or attempted to at least. “I don’t deserve your comfort. I am a horrible person, I don’t deserve…” you couldn’t finish as another wave of sobs broke through.

“Shhhh,” she whispered softly, her arms tightening around you despite your weak protests. You tried to move away, but the softness of her shirt, the warmth of her body, and the kindness in her voice were too inviting. “What you did … disappearing like that,” she began, her words spoken into your sweaty hair. “Realmente dolió,” her voice cracked slightly; you tightened your arms around her waist in response. “Your actions were bad, yes. But you are not bad,” she said emphatically.

You took a shuddering breath, the truth in her words piercing through the haze of your self-loathing. “I’ve made such a mess of everything,” you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder. “I don’t know how to fix it.” Ona pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes.

“You start by forgiving yourself,” she said gently. “Because …” she paused momentarily, “I forgive you. Te perdono. Et perdono.” This set a new wave of tears bubbling up. It was painful and raw but cathartic, too.

You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t help it as you felt a glimmer of hope. It was fragile and tentative, but it was there, a tiny spark in the darkness. You clung to it, feeling Ona’s warmth and forgiveness surround you. The heaviness in your chest lightened just a fraction, enough to allow a breath of relief. Ona’s embrace tightened, and you let yourself sink into it, missing how her hugs had felt, the comfort she brought you just by being close. She pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your head. “I’m sorry,” you whispered into the fabric covering her stomach.

“I know you are,” she replied just as quietly.

Every moment of the next few days seemed to blend into the next with dizzying speed, and you found yourself caught between triumph and confusion. Winning the Copa de la Reina, preparing for the Champions League, and waiting for the international announcements - it was a lot of everyone to process. Yet amidst the frenzy, you were quietly trying to mend the fractures in your relationships. Conversations, laden with heartfelt apologies, unfolded with each member of the team. More tears were shed, but you slowly began the painstaking process of stitching what was broken. Even as you sat beside Mapí during the Copa final, her silence spoke volumes, a tangible reminder of the distance still to be bridged. The sparse conversation, a mere trickle compared to her usual torrent of words, served as a reminder of the work yet to be done but also of the hope that lingered in the spaces between.

Then came the chaos of the Champions League final, a rollercoaster of emotions that whisked you from uncertainty to jubilation in the span of ninety minutes. Initially resigned to the sidelines, your ankle injury deemed worthy of rest by Jona, fate intervened as Ona fell. In an instant, the plans shifted, and you found yourself thrust onto the pitch, the weight of the final moments heavy on your shoulders. Yet as the final whistle blew and the roar of triumph echoed around the stadium, any lingering doubts were drowned out by the sheer joy of victory. Despite the bittersweet knowledge that this might mark the end of your journey with the team, at that moment, you refused to let anything dim the radiance of your victory.

The only issue that remained was Lucy. Ona had been careful to keep you two apart, but with the Olympics fast approaching, you knew a conversation was in desperate need. You had booked it ages ago, just after the Nation League finals, when you found out Germany and Spain would be heading off to fill the European spots in the Olympics. At the time, you hadn’t questioned it when you booked a singular hotel room with two beds for the entire two weeks of the competition. At the time, the logistics seemed simple enough – a singular hotel room with two beds, a pragmatic arrangement for two good friends united at WAGs in supporting their respective partners. But now … now everything was different.

And then you were waiting for Lucy in the middle of the Barcelona airport. What should you say? What would she say? Was she still angry at you? Judging by Ona’s actions, she probably was, but you didn’t quite know how bad these two weeks would be. You had decided that if worse came to worse, you would fork out for a new hotel room. It would probably be eye-wateringly expensive and damn near impossible to do, but you would do it. You knew a few of the partners of the German national team fairly; maybe you could crash on their floor? No. You needed to fix this. If not for your sake, then for Ona’s. You could see how hard this was for her, keeping her girlfriend and her best friend away from each other whilst balancing the international commitments.

You needed a plan. Ask her how she is when she first arrives. Let her start the conversation. Buy her a coffee. Let her choose the window seat if she wants it. Pay for the taxi from the airport to the hotel. Ask her if you could talk properly. If she says yes, apologise again. Answer all her questions honestly and truthfully. Try not to cry. If she says no … find another hotel.

You had been so wrapped up in her thinking that you had missed her arrival. She looked tired, but not angry. At least you don’t think she looked angry.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Hi.” You smiled at her. She nodded once, silently gesturing to the check-in desk behind you.

It was the most painfully awkward 3 hours of your life. Every attempt at conversation felt stilted and forced. You were often met with nods and grunts instead of actual answers. She granted you a small half-smile as you presented her with a coffee from the nicer-but-more-expensive stand near the gates. All you could do was keep reminding yourself that you were doing this for Ona. You were here to support Ona, your best friend. And Lena. Sweet, kind, perfect Lena … Ona and Lena, Ona and Lena, Ona and Lena

The room was rather large, you were grateful to realise. The beds positioned far enough apart to provide some privacy for you both, as well as a small seating area. The small balcony outside offered a great view, the hum of the bustling city audible, even from high up in the hotel. You waited for her to choose a bed, hoovering anxiously by the door, your grip tight on your suitcase. Ok … show time.

“Um … Lucy?" you began, the butterflies in your chest increasing when she didn’t look up. “Can we talk? I need … I want to apologise to you properly and talk a little.” Nothing. No reaction. Not even a flicker. This was not a part of the plan. She was supposed to say yes or no. Not nothing.  “Right, um …” you wracked your brains, trying to think of what to do now. “Ok, um, if you don’t want to talk, that’s ok too. I’ll… um … I’ll just … I’ll just get out of your hair, then. Uhh, yeh.” Maybe you had come on too strong. Perhaps she needed to settle in for a bit first. You turned to go, your hand struggling to find the doorknob in your haste.

“Wait.” You froze. Every muscle locked as you waited for her to continue. “You’re right; we need to talk.” Turning back to face her, you looked at her properly for the first time in weeks. She looked so tired. The weight of everything was clearly etched into the lines of her face. Her green eyes were darker than normal, the set of her shoulders hunched slightly.

“Here? Or we could go get a coffee? My treat.” You managed a small, tentative smile, hoping it would ease some of the tension between you.

“A coffee sounds nice,” she gave a slow nod, picking up her purse and moving across the room.

The café was very typically French, no doubt redecorated somewhat for the influx of tourists, but the smell of freshly brewed coffees and warm croissants was too inviting to pass on.

“Bonjour,” Lucy smiled at the barista, her order flowing with ease in a torrent of French.

She stepped to the side, allowing you to add in your abysmal French, “un petit chocolat chaud, s'il vous plait,” handing over your card to pay for the drinks.

The seats were wide and comfortable, offering a quiet space for you to talk openly.

“I forgot you spoke French,” you fiddled with the napkin on the side of your saucer.

“Yeh, I didn’t want to lose it when I left Lyon. And it’s been helpful for learning Catalan too.” Lucy smiled weakly.

“How’s that going, by the way? Learning Catalan, I mean,” you started, attempting to break the ice a little

“Don’t. Don’t do that, Y/N. You wanted to talk, so talk.” She cut you off bluntly. Ok, she was still a little angry. That was fine, you could manage that, you think.

“Ok, um, well. I wanted to apologise.” You spoke slowly, thinking of exactly what to say before you said it. “Properly.” You took a steading breath. “I have no excuse, no explanation really, of why I did what I did. Why I disappeared. But … I am truly sorry. I know I hurt you, and Ona, and Alexia, the whole team, really. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you to watch Ona in that state.” You took a sip of your drink to help steady yourself. “I was selfish, and I didn’t think about the consequences of my actions. I was childish and immature; you were right.” You looked up to see Lucy’s eyes fixed on you, her expression unreadable but attentive. You took it as a sign to continue. “What I did was inexcusable, but I didn’t do it consciously. Lena said either I go to her, or she would come to me, and with the Pokal final coming, I couldn’t let her leave Germany, so I went to her. It all happened so fast, and when I got to Germany, everything was clearer, easier a little, I’m not really sure. But Barça and everything to do with Barcelona was just too much. I know that it might not make a difference, but I didn’t purposefully think about shutting everyone out and disappearing.” You took another sip. “I really am sorry for how I behaved. I completely understand if you don’t want to spend the next 2 weeks in a hotel room with me. I can find somewhere else if-”

“Stop it.” Her voice was quiet but commanding. Your mouth snapped shut, your nervous eyes drifting up to meet her gaze. “I appreciate your apology.” It wasn’t forgiveness, but she had at least acknowledged it.

“I really am sorry,” you cut in.

“Stop saying sorry.” You could tell it was an attempt at humour.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow in response, trying to come off unamused but failing. Your heart lightened a little at the small sliver of the normal Lucy returning.

“I’m not angry at you,” she began. “No, wait, that’s not quite true. I was incredibly angry at you,” she corrected herself. “When I see people I love and care about upset, I get angry, and you really hurt Ona. But … I was also annoyed at the team, including Ona ...” You looked up, confused. “They all forgave you so easily, so quickly. It was like they had forgotten how hard it was for all of us when we didn’t know where you were, if you were safe … if you were still alive. And then I got angry at myself for being angry with everyone and ...” She stopped, looking around at the café you were sitting in.

“Um … they didn’t.” you breathed. It was her turn to look confused. “They didn’t forgive me. I spoke to Alexia after the first training session … I was back for. She explicitly said she hadn’t forgiven me. I still don’t think she fully has,” you licked your lips. “Not that she has to,” you added quickly. “No one has to forgive me if they don’t want to. Um, I guess the others picked up on her changes in behaviour and were following her lead.” It sounded like a question. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why everyone had eased off on you so fast, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I … I didn’t know that.” Lucy muttered, either to you or to herself you weren’t sure.

“And Ona didn’t speak to me until after … that training session. God, I was a total mess. I am an ugly crier, and, bloody hell, was I sobbing,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I didn’t know that either …” she trailed off. The silence wasn’t awkward, not anymore. But there were definitely things still unsaid that lingered in the space between you. “That makes me look like a total arse,”

“No, it doesn’t,” you said gently. “You were hurt and angry. You had every right to react in that way. I was a total bitch.”

“So was I,” she said wryly. Lucy sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “It’s just … I didn’t realise how much I was holding onto. I'm sorry if I ... we ... made you feel like you couldn't come to us.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “But disappearing was wrong. And I don’t expect immediate forgiveness. I want to make that clear. I just want a chance to make things right, to show you that I’m here to stay. Well, not literally, anyway, but … I’m working on it. I’ve started making enquiries for a therapist. I’m really trying to get better at communication and stuff.” You nodded, pushing some hair behind your ear.

“Where are you going anyway? I haven’t seen an announcement or anything.” She took another sip of her coffee, a clear attempt at normalcy.

“Um … Bayern,” you bit your lip. “I think if Barça were to offer me an extension I would have taken it, but I’m excited to move. It’s a new challenge and stuff,”

“Hey, hey, I don’t need the media spiel. I get it. It also helps that a certain someone is also moving to Bayern?” she guessed.

“Well, that’s definitely a perk that other teams didn’t have.” You both let out a soft laugh.

“I really am sorry, Luce,” you said when the laughter died down.

"I know you are. And I am too. None of us were acting very grown up." She smiled at you. You grinned back at her. “Now then, have you got the schedule for Lena’s matches?” She asked, taking another sip and shuffling her chair closer to you, a clear change of subject, yet also a tentative step towards what your relationship used to be like.

Over the next 2 weeks. You truly rediscovered how much you loved football. With good food and good friends, it was easy to fall in love with the sport. The Olympics was special. The energy was electric, and it showed on the pitch. You watched as Lena dominated the field. You were fairly sure you had dribbled a little when she made her appearance with the Captain’s armband on. You were very grateful that the Spain match was later in the day, so you had attended this particular game alone.

“Schatz,” Lena shouted when friends and family were finally allowed over to see the players. “Come here,” she waved you over, holding a hand out for you and helping you over the barrier.

“You played so well, Liebe.” You congratulated her, a hand resting on her bicep as you kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Danke, Schatz. I have some people I want you to meet,” she said as she tucked you into her side, an arm thrown across your shoulders. “This is my mama,” she said proudly, presenting you to the woman in front of you.

“Um …” you blinked and swallowed. “Hallo?” you settled on, a shocked smile on your face.

And then the summer was over. The long, sun-drenched days had given way to cooler evenings, the warmth slowly seeping out of the air as autumn crept in. The vibrant hues of green began to fade, replaced by the rich, earthy tones of autumn. The laughter and chatter of tourists that had filled the streets grew quieter, the city settling back into its regular rhythm. Slowly, forgiveness was shown on all sides. After long talks well into the cool summer nights, an understanding was reached. The scars would probably always be there, but they were not just a faint white line, not raw and open.

“Look after her,” Ona whispered in Lena’s ear as they hugged. The pair stepped back to look at you in a tight embrace with Alexia.

“I will.” Lena promised.

As you held Alexia, you could feel the strength of her emotions mirrored in the tightness of her grip. “Mantenerte fuerte, cariño,” she murmured into your shoulder, her voice muffled. “We’ll see each other soon.”

You pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “I’ll miss you,” you said, your voice cracking a little. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Alexia nodded, blinking back tears. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.

“Prometo,” you assured her, giving her one last squeeze before letting go.

“Bye, kid.” Lucy said, stepping forward for her own hug.

“Bye, Luce,” you replied. “Look after Ona,” you whispered to her.

“Of course.” Her arms tightened fractionally before you let go. "Look after yourself too, yeh?" You nodded into her neck, laughing as she tried to ruffle your hair.

All three of them separated themselves slightly as you and Ona came face to face.

“I’m not going to cry,” you said defiantly, your voice already wavering.

“Me neither,” Ona echoed the sadness in your own. You pulled her forward, arms wrapping around her shoulders as you pressed a kiss to her hair. The embrace was long and tight, both of you reluctant to let go. You could feel the slight tremble in her body. You were sure you were shaking, too.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you whispered, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay composed. Ona pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I’ll miss you too,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But we’ll stay in touch ... every day.”

“Every day,” you promised her, pulling her into another tight hug. You held on for a few more precious moments before finally, reluctantly, letting go.

Lena approached you then, her expression soft but determined. “Ready?” she asked, holding a hand out for you to take.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m ready.” You placed your hand in hers, cementing the notion that you were doing this together.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said, trying to inject some lightness into your voice. “And when I am, it’ll be for the Champions League, and we’re going to crush you,” you jested.

Ona smiled, a tear finally escaping down her cheek. “Oh, please. We’re Barcelona,” she said.

“Yeh, we’ll we’re Bayern. Feel our wrath.” You stuck your tongue out, a similar tear rolling down your face. You paused, reluctant to turn away.

“Look at you.” Alexia smiled proudly. “Getting a new job. Moving to a new city. Moving in with your girlfriend. A proper adult now.”

“Not too adult, though. I still need you.”

I hope you enjoyed the story and the series as a whole. Please let me know what you though <3<3<3<3

[spacerockfloater]

Being a female viewer and hating Criston Cole is deranged.

I have to get this off my chest. The blind hatred that Criston is receiving from women is insane and I’m going to explain why.

For context, I am talking about Show Criston, not Book Criston. Comparing two standalone versions of a story is silly.

I cannot wrap my head around the fact that so many women, who are the primary victims of utilitarian relationships, would ever come together and shit on Criston for enduring such a situation.

I’m sorry, but how many of you have been used by men? How many of you have been reduced to one night stands, situationships and placeholder wives? How many of you have been deemed “not good enough” to be an exclusive partner? I log into tiktok and I see NOTHING but stories of broken women who are just used for sex, money, care and whatnot by men, and then they are tossed away like worthless trash while said men continue their pursuit of the ideal woman. Being used by men just for sex and being denied the status of girlfriend, let alone wife, is probably one of the worst plagues women are experiencing in the western world because the MOMENT we were emancipated, men understood that they don’t owe us shit anymore and instead of treating us with respect, they decided to grab whatever they can and give nothing back. Do not tell me that there are women out there that are fine with this arrangement because the multiple “GWM while I tell you about the guy that was with me for 12 years and then married someone else” tell a different story, one of multiple women’s dignities being trampled by hungry men. My heart breaks for every woman (EVERY woman, cis, trans, EVERY woman) who has been called by a man she loves just for sex, for every woman whose man never wanted to be seen in public with her, for every woman who had to hear that her man is not ready for a relationship only to witness him getting engaged to another woman 2 weeks after. I hope you overcome this and become stronger and I am glad that we are finally supporting one another.

How can we then, the women who are helping other female victims rise up and speak out against this kind of abuse, push Criston down and tell him to suck it up and accept being Rhaenyra’s plaything? Have we no mercy? Are we so hungry for revenge against men that we’d want them to endure the same humiliation that we did, as if one fictional man’s suffering would bring us justice? Are we so jealous that Criston didn’t sit down and just take it like the rest of us, but instead spoke up and removed himself from that situation? Or are we so gullible that we accept what the screenwriters shove down our throats and unknowingly support the patriarchic view that if you’re being used by someone you should just accept it?

I can hear some of you arguing that “Oh, this is different because Rhaenyra is royalty!” as if being used and tossed by a powerful person somehow makes the situation any better? Would it be okay if a rich person wanted to constantly use you for sex while he keeps looking for a better woman to be by his side, just because he values his wealth and status more? Rhaenyra straight up sneered at the idea of a simple life with him. She straight up told him that HE is not worth as much as her crown. OUCH. Even though I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of being told you are not enough by your loved one, it was Rhaenyra’s right to choose what her priorities are, but WHY would he have to accept being her sidepiece? “These were different times”: does this make it any less devastating for the victim? And he was a victim because Rhaenyra still used Criston and misled him by constantly complaining about how she HATES her duties for YEARS and then luring him to break his oath. Do you think he would have still slept with her if he was aware that moments ago, Rhaenyra was begging on her knees to be fucked by Daemon and only turned to Criston because her first option was no longer available? Like, the man was contemplating having sex with her and resisted her for a good fucking while, so imagine how quickly he would have turned around and walked out that door if he had that information beforehand. You know why? Because he loved her. He loved her to the point that he broke his oath for her, the oath of a station he FOUGHT FOR IN A WAR. He shed blood and sweat and risked his life for the mere opportunity to gain that position. This was ALL he had, he came from NOTHING and he was still willing to toss it all away for Rhaenyra not once, but twice. It wasn’t just sex he wanted because we never see him have sex again after that. He became vulnerable and gave up everything that he was to be with Rhaenyra. He was willing to abandon his whole identity for her sake. Is this not what the ideal partner is? Ready to abandon everything for your shake? Everything he fought for, tooth and nail? Was he unreasonable in thinking that Rhaenyra was willing to do the same for him? Was he crazy to think that because he was ready to put everything he FOUGHT for aside for her shake, Rhaenyra would also put aside a duty she was handed and actively seem to hate for him too? Fuck no! After hearing her constant talk about how she hates her father, her duties, her refusal to wed other men, how she is trapped as a princess, how people have no idea how much it SUCKS being her, why would he not assume that she’d be willing to give it all up for him, as he’d do for her We never see Rhaenyra even TRY to be a ruler, just complain about it. Of course it would be a fucking shock to him hearing her say “Lol dude, I actually do kinda want this”.

Criston was actually the only person in the series that wanted Rhaenyra for her, not her money or crown. I’m not saying she had to follow him, it was her right to refuse him, but his willingness to lead a simple life with just her has got to mean something. And don’t give me that “he only wanted to redeem his honour by marrying her” crap, because first of all Criston nutted up and admitted everything to Alicent and was ready to face death without EVER blaming Rhaenyra for anything, and second of all, oh no, how dare a human being have ethical values and desire to live with dignity in society’s broad light rather than move in the shadows as the princess’s secret boytoy! Bad, bad Criston for feeling you have to atone for your sins. Maybe we as people have become so corrupt that we envy those who wish to walk a virtuous path in life. Or maybe y’all have become so fond of the unhinged unapologetic character trope because it feels “original” (even if it’s ridiculously overused nowadays) that you’ve actually forgotten what characters with good morals are. Like, picking your fave war criminal and rolling with them because you enjoy good drama, especially in a show that’s meant to provide entertainment, is one thing, but passionately stating that Criston had to submit to that humiliation is something else entirely.

Finally, let’s ditch the Criston being a misogynist bullshit because he had NO issue obeying Rhaenyra before their affair or Alicent. And he is ALWAYS true to himself and his values, because even after everything he endured, he did not use Alicent’s anger as an excuse to take revenge on Rhaenyra and harm her children. Criston never betrayed her, Rhaenyra used him and he walked away and he went towards the only person who seemed to spare him some sympathy and understand him and not condemn him for his crimes even if he hated himself, which is typical victim mentality. And don’t get me started on the Joffrey incident because y’all tore Cole to SHREDS for it. Joffrey had it fucking coming. You don’t go up to people’s faces, especially ones you don’t know, threaten them by telling them you know their secret, a secret that SHAMES them and burdens them to the point they’re ready to commit suicide, and all but directly call them a whore. What the fuck did he think was going to happen? They’d shake hands? Piss off. Let this be a lesson to anyone that doesn’t know how to keep their mouths shut and their noses out of other people’s business. Also, mocking his suicide attempt makes my stomach turn. Just take a moment to consider all the young women who just like him, reluctantly surrendered their virginities to men only to find out they were nothing but sex dolls in their eyes, all these girls whose trust led to their secret being spread and them getting ridiculed and slut shamed for it: how many girls have taken their own lives because they found living with such a burden unbearable?

For the love of everything you hold sacred, please wake up. The narrative that you can be used by someone powerful and you have to accept it because that’s the way things are is a man’s construct. Do not let them fool you.

[a-lexia11]

Is it weird that I want to know Leah's POV from Part 2? Like, what's going on in her head? What's with her reactions? Thank you for a beautiful fic, by the way. Keep on writing!

Ask and you shall receive.

In the original version of the story, I had included Leah’s POV, but I decided to remove it to concentrate more on the reader’s emotions and perspective.

But since you asked so kindly, here’s the version with only Leah’s point of view.

(Btw thank you for the compliments, I appreciate it🫶🫶)

Full of love (Leah’s POV)

Part 1

Leah Williamson x reader(past)

Alexia Putellas x reader

———————-

Ending things with Y/N was, without a doubt, one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made, but deep down, I knew it was necessary.

The love I once felt for her had faded, and I couldn’t ignore the growing unhappiness in our relationship any longer. It wasn’t fair to either of us to continue pretending.

Looking back, I have to admit that the way I handled it was far from right. I should have been honest with her sooner.

Instead, I distanced myself, ignoring her and, in doing so, only caused her more pain. When she told me she deserved better, she was absolutely right. She deserved so much more than the half-hearted efforts I was giving her.

Y/N was truly one of the kindest and most selfless people I’ve ever known. She had a way of making everyone around her feel loved and valued, and I was no exception.

Those five years we spent together weren’t just filled with good memories—they were some of the best years of my life. I was deeply in love with her, and she brought me so much happiness during that time.

But somewhere along the line, something changed. I don’t even know exactly when or why it happened, but I fell out of love with her.

It was one of the most painful realizations I've ever faced.

This was the woman I once dreamed of marrying, of building a life with. I imagined us having children together, growing old side by side. But as much as I wanted those things, I couldn’t force the feelings that just weren’t there anymore.

The break up was devastating, not just for her but for me as well. It felt like I was tearing apart everything we had built. Yet, in a way, it was also a relief.

It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders because I was finally being honest—with her and with myself.

I wasn’t living a lie anymore, and I wasn’t continuing to hurt her by pretending everything was okay.

So, while it was the hardest decision I've ever made, it was also the right one.

Y/N deserves to be with someone who loves her wholeheartedly, and even though it hurt to let go, I hope that by doing so, I’ve allowed her the chance to find that happiness again.

——

It’s been four months since Y/N and I broke up, and during that time, she has meticulously avoided me.

It’s as if she’s made it her mission to steer clear of any interaction, as if even the slightest chance of crossing paths is something she desperately wants to avoid.

Watching her like this has been incredibly painful for me. I can see the depth of her unhappiness, and it’s crushing to know that I’m the cause of it.

The once vibrant spark in her eyes has completely faded, leaving them dull and distant. It’s a stark contrast to the person she used to be, and I feel a deep sense of regret for what I’ve done.

Her attempts to appear happy around our teammates are painfully transparent. To others, her smile might seem genuine, but I know better. I can see through the façade she’s putting on.

There’s a heaviness in her expressions, and the joy that used to accompany her presence is now absent. It’s clear that she’s not truly happy, despite her best efforts to project otherwise.

It’s heart-wrenching to witness her struggle while knowing that I’m the reason for her suffering.

We were gathered in the meeting room, a place that usually buzzed with discussion and camaraderie.

Today, however, it was different. Jonas gave a subtle sign to Y/N, who stood up from her seat, her movements betraying her nervousness.

She walked over to stand next to him, her posture tense and her hands clasped tightly together.

When she finally spoke, her voice wavering. “I want to let you all know that I’ve decided to leave Arsenal and join Barcelona,” she announced, her words hanging heavily in the air.

The shock hit me like a physical blow. I couldn’t process the reality of her departure. The idea of Y/N leaving Arsenal—leaving me—was inconceivable.

My mind raced, but I found myself utterly speechless. The room fell into a stunned silence, the usual hum of conversations replaced by a heavy stillness as everyone absorbed the unexpected news.

I saw Y/N glance my way, and in that moment, she caught the full extent of my shock. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve, and it was clear she was aware of the impact her decision was having on me.

Beth began speaking to Y/N, but her words seemed distant and muffled as I struggled to process what was happening.

The noise of the room, the soft murmur of conversations, all faded into the background.

One by one, the other girls began to rise from their seats, moving toward Y/N to offer her hugs and words of support.

Their gestures were heartfelt, and they tried to provide comfort, but I remained rooted in my chair, unable to bring myself to join them.

I felt a profound sense of helplessness and disbelief, paralyzed by the gravity of the situation and the sudden void that Y/N’s departure represented.

“Leah,” I heard a soft voice, calling out for me

I looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and I rose from my seat, moving closer. “Y/N, you can’t just leave. Arsenal is your home, your family. We’re your family,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I know,” she murmured. “But you need to understand that I can’t heal here. Not with you here and the memories of us everywhere I turn. It feels like a huge part of me vanished when we broke up. Arsenal no longer feels like home; something has fundamentally changed. I’m not happy here anymore, and I need to address that. I can’t just stay and be miserable.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away, “Are you leaving because of me? We can still be close, even if we’re not together. I can still make you happy as a friend. You don’t have to leave.” I begged her desperately.

She gently took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Staying friends will only complicate things for me, Leah. I want you to know that I will always care about you, but this is something I have to do for myself. I need to find a way to move forward.”

I nodded slowly, my voice barely audible. “I understand. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It won’t be easy for me either,” Y/N admitted,“But I genuinely believe it’s the right choice.”

I remained standing in silence for what felt like an eternity, overwhelmed by a flood of memories and emotions.

My mind kept replaying the moments we had shared, the laughter and challenges, the bond we had built over time.

The realization that she was leaving for another country and joining a different club hit me hard. The weight of it all was crushing.

Finally, I broke the silence with a sigh. “When are you leaving?”

“End of the season,” she said quietly. “I want to make sure I finish things here properly, give it the closure it deserves.”

i just nodded sadly“Okay. I suppose… I’ll see you on the pitch.” I simply said and walked away.

Being around her was excruciating, knowing that she would soon be leaving. It was a constant reminder of the impending separation and the emotions I was struggling to keep in check.

I had to remind myself not to be selfish, even though it hurt to see her in pain.

Despite the fact that my feelings for her had changed and I no longer loved her in the way I once did, my care for her remained profound.

I wanted her to find happiness, even if that meant her leaving and starting anew.

Seeing her unhappy was unbearable, and if moving to another country and joining a new club was what she needed to feel fulfilled, then I had to accept that.

——

I saw Y/N again at her farewell party, but I made sure to keep my distance, avoiding her as much as possible.

I wasn’t keen on attending in the first place, but Lia had insisted, arguing that it would be disrespectful not to be there with the entire team.

From where I stood, I watched her quietly. Despite the sadness of the occasion, she appeared a bit more radiant tonight.

Maybe the anticipation of her new journey was lifting her spirits, providing a sense of excitement that was hard to miss.

As the evening wound down and people started to drift away, I felt a heavy weight in my chest. I refrained from hugging her, knowing that if I did, I would likely dissolve into tears.

Instead, I gave her a brief, gentle pat on the shoulder and offered a simple, “Good luck,” before turning and walking away.

It was a difficult moment, and I knew that this might be the last time I’d see her for a considerable period.

The reality of our separation felt almost unbearable, and I wanted to leave before my emotions got the better of me.

——

Today, I’m in Barcelona, visiting Keira after a long time apart. It’s great to reconnect with my best friend, and I’m looking forward to catching up.

However, being in Barcelona also means I’m bound to see Y/N, especially since Keira invited me to join her and some of the Barça team at a bar tonight.

The thought of seeing Y/N again brings a swirl of emotions.

When Y/N joined Barcelona, I asked Keira to give me updates on Y/N. I was hoping to hear that she was thriving and happy.

Keira, at one point, mentioned that Y/N had become close with Alexia Putellas, which made my heart skip a beat.

It stirred up feelings I hadn’t anticipated, a mix of curiosity and something deeper that I couldn't quite place.

When I arrived at the bar, I took a moment to scan the room, searching for Keira. That’s when I spotted Y/N, and I was struck by how beautiful she looked.

Barcelona seemed to have suited her well; she had a glow about her that I hadn’t seen in a while. Alexia was beside her, her arm resting comfortably around Y/N’s shoulders.

It was a familiar sight, one that reminded me of how I used to hold her similarly when we’d go out with our teammates.

As I made my way toward Y/N, my nerves were on edge. She noticed me, as did Alexia. I watched as Alexia leaned in, speaking softly to Y/N. I saw Y/N nodding, and then Alexia placed a tender kiss on Y/N’s forehead.

It was a gesture that resonated deeply with me, reminding me of the affectionate moments we had shared.

Seeing this intimate display stirred a mix of nostalgia and regret, leaving me to navigate the complex emotions swirling within me as I approached them.

“Y/N,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Leah,” she replied, her tone light. “How’s London?”

God,I missed the sound of her voice.

“It’s… London,” I said with a small smile,“How about you? Barcelona seems to suit you.”

“It really does” she admitted. “I love it here. The city, the team… everything.”

I glanced around, taking in the lively atmosphere. “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”

A brief silence fell between us, and the unspoken tension was palpable.

I could hardly believe that, after all these months, she was standing right in front of me. It felt like seeing her again for the first time.

“So… Alexia?” I asked tentatively but curiously,“You two seem close.”

Y/N glanced over at Alexia, who was chatting with Keira but I noticed that Alexia still kept an eye on Y/N, looking her way every once in a while. Y/N nodded. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

When those words came out of her mouth, I felt a slight tightening in my face, a physical reaction to the reality of the situation.

I had been prepared for this; Keira had given me a heads-up, but hearing it directly from Y/N made it all the more tangible and impactful.

I struggled to grasp why I was experiencing such intense emotions—jealousy and envy—despite my belief that my feelings for her had faded.

I had convinced myself that I was no longer in love with her, or at least that’s what I had tried to believe.

Yet, seeing her now, so vibrant and full of life, stirred something deep within me. Her smile, her laughter, the way she spoke—it all evoked memories of the Y/N I had once loved so deeply.

It was as if the past had resurfaced, and I was reminded of the affection and longing that still lay dormant inside me.

The realization hit hard: perhaps I hadn’t truly moved on; perhaps, on some level, I was still very much in love with her.

I forced a smile. “That’s… that’s great. I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “She’s… different. It feels right.”

I looked down, my fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

I’m genuinely glad that she’s found someone who makes her happy—Alexia clearly brings her joy.

However, I won’t pretend that I don’t wish I were still the one who could bring her that happiness.

“Um… how about you? Have you found someone?” She asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

“Um… not yet,” I responded quietly, almost in a whisper. “I’m trying to put myself out there again, but it’s been challenging.”

It’s been incredibly challenging for me because, with every date I’ve been on, I find myself constantly comparing the other girls to you. None of them have come close to matching the unique qualities that you have. Each time, I’m reminded of how special you are, and it makes me realize just how irreplaceable you are… you were in my life.

But you don’t need to know that.

Y/N nodded understandingly, and offered me a gentle smile “I’m confident you’ll find someone, Leah. You’re an incredible person, and anyone would be lucky to have you in their life,” she said encouragingly.

I genuinely valued her words, but they don’t reflect the truth. I don’t see myself as an incredible person.

Someone truly incredible wouldn’t have caused such deep hurt that someone had to leave the country, nor would they have given up on the love of their life.

As the conversation lulled, Alexia got closer to Y/N and gently touch her back, and send me a smile.

“Leah, it was really good to see you,” Y/N said. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here.”

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile. “It was good to see you too, Y/N.”

She gave me a small wave before turning back to Alexia, who immediately wrapped her arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close in a tender, intimate gesture.

From where I stood, I could see the way Y/N looked at Alexia—her eyes brimming with genuine love and affection, mirroring the way Alexia gazed at her. It was a beautiful and heartwarming sight to witness, and it was evident that Y/N truly deserved this kind of happiness.

Alexia was treating her with a tenderness and care that I had failed to provide, making Y/N's joy and contentment unmistakable.

As I observed them, a deep, lingering part of me acknowledged that I still harbored feelings for Y/N. It was a painful realization, compounded by the knowledge that I had hurt her profoundly. I had driven her away, and now she was finding solace and affection in someone else’s arms.

The finality of it all hit hard—I lost her forever. I couldn’t help but second-guess whether ending our relationship had been the right choice.

Seeing her so happy with someone else made me question whether I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

No, it’s not a question it’s a fact, I made the biggest mistake of my life.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Hello! I'm so happy I found your blog! I like your story, the way you write it! And it’s so easy for me to imagine my OC with your story, because our OCs are a little similar, only my character is something like a god/demon of death, a little more cold and his pets are snakes))

Sooooo... Sorry for taking a lot of time with my character 😅 the request for headcanons is haulian x reader and how will Xie Lian and Hua Cheng react if the reader feels like the third wheel in their trio and become a little bit distant because want to give them some space? (I have the idea in my head that the reader is basically like your OC, i like him soooooo much)

Sorry if it's not clear, English is not my native language. And if you don't like the idea, just ignore it))

Closing The Distance

Hua Cheng x M!Reader x Xie Liam

I'm so happy you like my writing and I love to hear about your OC so don't worry. I'm happy our OC's are so similar 🥰🖤

I like writing stories with my headcanons soooo bare with me, bear with me???

____________________________________

You've been distant. Well you've never reached out to people before this either, but you're more distant than usual.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng noticed immediately.

How you start declining things, how you just sit to the side, you don't talk much, You let them sleep alone, eat dinner alone.

You stop being near them. The kisses you give dwindle down to nothing and the words "I love you" have been reserved.

They haven't a clue why. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have tried to think of every reasonable possibility but don't know why

Why would you want to be alone when it's supposed to be the three of you together?

It gets to the point where they have to visit you instead of the other way around. Paradise Manor, and Puqi shrine is all of your homes but you don't show up to either one anymore.

You're hiding away at your own place and they just don't know what to do

It really breaks Xie Lian's heart because you've been by his side all these years why do you want to leave now?

Hua Cheng is equally devastated. He would do anything for you and Xie Lian but you're pulling away.

The two can only think that maybe you just don't love them anymore, maybe you're tired of them?

You would never do that though

Xie Lian doesn't like it and neither does Hua Cheng. They intend to get to the bottom of it because they love you.

They would try to give you space but when it seems to only make it worse they don't stop bothering you

That's what it seems like you need, to be bothered.

Xie Lian keeps asking, and caring for you

Hua Cheng gets insecure. He knows he's good that Xie Lian loves him but do you? You aren't disgusted by him are you? Contrary to popular belief ghost kings get insecure too

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

You are pathetic, at least you feel like you are. Hiding away like a bug under a rock. You don't know when it started and you couldn't control it when it got out of hand. It's nothing against Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, you love them dearly. But the problem you have feels like a problem you can't even bring up. You don't want to hurt them.

Would you hurt them more by bringing it up or staying hidden?

So you've been... Lying here. Bed rotting. If you can even call it that. You're actually just lying under a rock. Very literally. You're hanging out in a small cave. It's nothing you aren't used to you used to do it with Xie Lian all the time.

You could've gone to the heavens and hidden up there but you don't have friends. You have Feng Xin, and Mu Qing but you know they would snitch on you if it came to Xie Lian. So here you are under a rock. Overthinking.

You always overthink, it's why you left in the first place. You also felt selfish. It's hard to see Xie Lian and Hua Cheng together. You love them both, honest! But what do they even need you for? They look perfect without you, like they were made to just have each other. You felt like you were getting in the way, or like a third wheel.

You know they love you too but... It feels so difficult to be included. When Hua Cheng first showed up he immediately was able to take Xie Lian's side and help him with missions. Which was fine you guys needed the extra help anyways but then you learned their pasts. They're just so intertwined with each other

Hua Cheng built temples for Xie Lian, released 3,000 lanterns, built statues, fought in war, challenged 33 gods, cut out his eye, and died 3 times for him, and broke his shackles! What could you possibly add to the relationship. No one could care for Xie Lian better than Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian saved Hua Cheng when he was a child, and stayed with Wu Ming. Gave him a coral pearl, and red string. What have you done?

All the heavens talk about is Xie Lian and Hua Cheng. The ghost realm is the same. You were never a prominent figure so people forget you're even there. They don't even know you're their lover too.

So yes it's hard, and maybe it's selfish that you want to feel more included when they already spoil you when anything you could ask for. Which is why you're hiding in a small, dumb cave. You eventually fall asleep to the pitter, patter of rain.

When you wake up you aren't under a rock anymore. You're in bed. In red sheets, in a red room, red, red, red. You're at paradise manor. You wouldn't mind that if you weren't actively avoiding your lovers. You sit straight up in bed and before you can tumble out Xie Lian is at your bedside. He's frowning and has this worried look in his eyes that makes you feel guilty.

"Where have you been, y/n?" You look away and shrug. "In the cave you found me in" your lips wobble a little. You don't know what to say. What excuse could you use this time? You pick at a loose piece of thread on the blanket and notice that Hua Cheng isn't in the room with you two. ". . . Where's San Lang?"

"A-Lang" Xie Lian interrupts you and his hand finds yours "You've always called him A-Lang"

You want to crinkle under his piercing gaze. "Where's A-Lang?" You whisper glancing back at the blanket.

"Standing outside the room. Baobei why have you been avoiding us?" Xie Lian turns your gaze back to him.

"I-I just was dealing with my own issues" Your hands fist in the blankets and your eyes get watery just thinking about how selfish you've been.

Xie Lian's hand caresses your cheek, "Our issues. We can help you if you tell us."

You bite your lips and bring your hand up trying to wipe your tears before they get the chance to stream down your face. "It's selfish" you spit, venom covers your tongue. "It was a pathetic reason, really. I just was overthinking and I felt like. . . A third wheel. It's not a big deal though" You glare at the blanket. Your anger of course isn't directed at them but at yourself. Xie Lian knows this too.

"A third wheel, how come?" He runs his fingers through your hair. Him and Hua Cheng have tried everything to include you so how could one feel left out?

"It's my own fault, I just don't feel like I have anything to add. I've nothing to offer. I've done nothing compared to you two" You're completely useless like always.

Xie Lian's questioning is interrupted when the door slams open. You both jump when Hua Cheng storms in and grabs a hold of your face. He would never hurt you, you all know this. "Nothing to offer? Just who are you talking about right now?" He frowns at you with furrowed brows. "I don't think we're seeing the same person." He doesn't let you divert your gaze keeping you there.

Hua Cheng knows what you're feeling, your insecurities stemming all from feeling useless. He knows how it is. "You have everything to offer and even if you didn't we would love you anyways. You don't have to add anything y/n, you can just be" he frowns and sits on the bed.

"I think you're going blind in your other eye. I really don't have anything" you blink away tears. "This one offers so much and he doesn't even know, he's done so much for the two of us and doesn't remember. Right gege?" Hua Cheng looks at his other husband for approval and Xie Lian nods.

"This one is a heavenly official. You have to work hard to become a god in the upper court" Xie Lian adds. You scoff though. "That's not what I'm talking about, I-I haven't done anything for the two of you"

Hua Cheng wants to shake you in a jar. "You have though!" Now he's yelling and Hua Cheng doesn't yell only when it comes to the two of you. "Who's rayed by Xie Lian all these years protecting him when I was lost? You did! Who took care of Hong er when Gege's other servants wouldn't dare touch him? You did. Who gave a mongrel child their family heirloom because he had sympathy and was kind? You did!" Hua Cheng holds your face in his hands still.

"You work so hard, and have gone through so much just like the rest of us and yet you still worry about others still!"

"every night this one takes care of us and helps Gege make dinner. Every day this one protects us, every day this one thinks of us and gives his best for us!"

Hua Cheng gives endless reasons small to large. You're crying in his hands and Hua Cheng wipes them away for you.

"No one is allowed to insult my lovers, even if they're doing it themselves" Hua Cheng finishes and kisses your forehead. Xie Lian is smiling and he kisses your forehead too.

"Don't run from us anymore, you can tell us what you're thinking anytime. Me and San Lang have no problem giving you the reassurance you need" he hums and joins you two in bed. All three of you cuddle for the rest of the night and the two practically suffocate you, not allowing you to leave bed. But you love them and would gladly lie here tangled in their limbs.

____________________________________

I hope y'all like it! Also ignore my grammar mistakes guys I always have some. 🖤

[clerc16]

gorgeous lies

summary: is it a gorgeous lie, or is it just a dreadful truth?

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: a little angst, open ending i guess? cursing, mentions of a rocky relationship

Normally, you didn’t think about the concept of soulmates. It didn’t cross your mind. Until you met Charles; and that changed your whole perspective.

He was always there with you, for you; and you were always there for him. That’s just the way it was.

Relaxing days off were a necessity in your relationship. Calm days spent tangled between white, crisp bedsheets while small, sweet nothings were whispered and short stories were shared. Both of your lives seemed to stop once these days occurred - you were only thinking about each other while the world went on with their lives.

Honesty was very important, too. Both of your promises and words were always fulfilled. It was like an unspeakable vow; it was never really officiated but it was known.

Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

That’s what you thought, until the day you mistook Charles’ phone for yours. You tried unlocking it, but you realised that the Face ID didn’t recognise your face until it was too late.

“mate just tell her u should take a break. it’s better than to lead her on when u don’t even portray ur real feelings” read the text message. You didn’t even know who it was from - maybe Pierre, maybe Joris, maybe Arthur or Lorenzo - and frankly, you didn’t care.

You left as soon as you could. No explanation, no reasoning.

“my love, is everything ok? i’m here if u need me” Charles’ text said. You read it over so many times you memorised it. The fact he easily called you my love when he was unsure of his feelings. The way he easily made you believe him even when he didn’t believe himself.

The way you were so unbelievably attracted to him, like two opposite ends of a magnet, and all that just shattered.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days. And Charles’ phone never got a notification that you responded.

Naturally, he came over to your house after two very long days. When you saw him on your doorstep, you wanted to slam the door in his face. But you didn’t. Instead, you ‘invite’ him in.

“Are you here to lie to me again?” You stammer. His eyebrows furrow as his eyes look deep into yours.

“What?”

“Or are you here to tell me we should take a break?” You continue. His face contorts as he finally understands what you’re referring to.

“My love, it wasn’t what it looked like-” he begins, but you cut him off as you laugh.

“Don’t my love me right now. I’m not stupid. I’m not a child. Just... get it over with, Charles. Please, just go.” You respond, your voice cracking.

Hearing the evident pain in your voice as it cracked caused his heart to crack, too.

And without another word, he was gone. Forever? Possibly.

Days dragged on like years. Days were spent crying; out of sadness, out of guilt, out of regret. They blended into one another but each one of them stuck out, sharp as a pin.

The one day that stood out the most, though, was the final day of a devastating week. Friday.

A knock on your door caused you to groan as you forced yourself off the couch.

“Is this Ms... L/N?” The man at the door asked. You hummed shortly.

“I have a delivery for you,” he says with a small smile as he places a huge bouquet of your favourite flower on your front door. You thank him as you drag it inside.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was Charles.

Attached to the flowers was a note. You sighed as you opened it and began reading.

“Y/N,

I promise, none of this was a lie. Well, maybe some of it. But none of it was negative, I swear. It may seem like it was all a lie, but it wasn’t. Everytime I called you my love or told you I love you wasn’t a lie. None of it was. Please give me a chance to explain. I owe you an explanation, please let me do it.

I love you, I swear.

- Charles.”

You sigh once more as you fold up the note, the decision already clear in your mind.

thank you for reading! i hope this was worth it, please don’t be a ghost reader :)

[barracuda-shark-games]

Amis | he/him | 28 years old | bisexual

Notable traits: attentive, bold, gentle, sensitive, loyal, composed

Description

Handpicked from the Dawnguard (the Sunrise Palace’s elite guard) for his steadfastness and integrity, Amis has been assigned to the MC’s protection. He stands at 5’9 (175 cm) and has light brown skin, a stocky athletic build, hazel eyes, and wavy brown hair cut just below his ears. His home country of Korcome, famed for its vineyards, was voluntarily absorbed into the Dawn Empire as recently as 7 years ago. Since Korcome has no quarrel with Arevikland, it was decided that Korcomians would not be drafted into the Dawn Empire’s war with Arevikland. This detail also contributed to Amis’s assignment as the MC's personal bodyguard. Amis takes pride in his duties and has an optimistic outlook on life that some might consider naive. Don’t be fooled, however; Amis is very good at his job and when it becomes necessary, he is a force to be reckoned with.

Trivia

On romance: Of all the ROs, Amis is the most open and honest with his affections. This also puts him in a rather vulnerable position, and it means the consequences of a broken heart would be much more devastating for him…

Favorite food: Soup! Preferably in a bread bowl.

Song: ‘Nothing to be Scared Of’ by Kacey Musgraves

Come to me and drop your bags And I'll help you unpack them You're the only one I want to give my love There's nothing to be scared of

Excerpt

Under the cut for chapter 1 spoilers! Keep in mind that this is a rough draft and, therefore, may be subject to change before chapter 1 releases.

Finally, you think to yourself, some alone time. You take in your surroundings. It appears to be some sort of grand library. The room is large with the back wall mostly taken up by two-story arched windows that keep the place bathed in warm sunlight. The center of the room is occupied by a large, round marble desk laid out with an astrolabe, a globe, an adjustable magnifying tool, a simple golden scale next to a wooden lockbox, various quills and inkpots, and haphazard stacks of books and scrolls. The left and right sides of the room contain identical marble staircases that each lead to balconies housing more bookshelves and sitting areas.

As you scan the shelves on the lower level, you are startled by the sudden unmistakable sound of a vase wobbling and a whispered curse. You turn sharply towards the source and see your bodyguard adjusting a porcelain vase on its stand.

“Clumsy,” he admits with a sheepish grin, indicating himself.

You sigh. “How long have you been here?” you ask him.

He purses his lips in thought. “Hmm… how long have you been here?”

“About five minutes,” you answer.

“There’s your answer,” he says with a pleased smile that makes his hazel eyes sparkle. He folds his hands behind him and rocks back and forth on his feet.

When you let out a groan, his expression turns to a puzzled one. “Is something the matter, Your Grace?” he asks.

“You don’t have to call me that yet, you know,” you point out. “The wedding isn’t until tomorrow.”

He lets out a breezy laugh that echoes throughout the empty library. “I find it’s best to get into the habit now, actually,” he says. “I can be kind of forgetful and scatter-brained, after all.” He points to the vase as evidence.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that why they’ve appointed you to my protection? They figured they’d give the job to the least competent guardsman?”

His smile hardens into something more serious, though no less warm. “I can see how it might seem that way,” he admits. “But I can assure you, my clumsiness in some areas is, if anything, attributable to my focus on protecting you. I’ll let other people worry about the finer details.” He waves a gauntleted hand in a playful dismissal.

“Well, hopefully without breaking anything,” he then adds with a chuckle. But his gaze remains focused intently on you. You passively note that the lighting in this room makes his eyes appear almost golden.

[sesttalgi]

roses - song eunseok.

synopsis: this is based on jaehyuns recent song 'roses'. eunseok is the ex boyfriend of the reader and unfortunately the reader has moved on to someone new - sungchan. eunseok cant find it in him to move on so he is determined to get the reader back through a bouquet of roses.

pairings: eunseok x reader. / sungchan x reader.

genre: angsty / ex to lovers (?)

cw: angsty, cheating, smut etc.

word count: 3,2k.

~ this is my first fanfic! when i heard 'roses' i just had to write something! hope you enjoy. <3

it had been almost a year since your break up with eunseok. youve been focusing on your new relationship with sungchan, but the memories of your time with eunseok still occasionally flickered through your mind. lately though, you had been finding it easier to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present. you were happy with sungchan, and you didnt want to dwell on the past.

sungchan was everything you wanted in a boyfriend. he was attentive to your needs and he always had all the time in the world for you. he was quite the opposite from eunseok, who never really had time for you as he was always caught up with his academics. he tried though, anytime he was free he would spend his time with you but it wasnt enough. your ideal boyfriend always had time for you and unfortunately that wasnt eunseok. 

sungchan would always buy you your favorite flowers - roses. you have always loved roses and the colour red. these were things eunseok seemed to not take note of, so you thought. however, eunseok was well aware - or rather reminded due to your instagram stories where you would post the roses sungchan would get you.

eunseok found himself frequently checking your instagram. every time he saw the vibrant red colors of the roses and the smile on your face as you held them, feelings of jealousy and regret would wash over him. he now remembers how he had never bothered to take note of your favorite flowers or your love for the color red when you were together. 

eunseok thought he was a good boyfriend but he realized that he was far from it. he berated himself for not noticing these small details that could have made a difference in your relationship. but now the memories are hitting him differently. every time he sees the colour red he is coldly reminded of you. and seeing you with those roses that sungchan bought you had him feeling devastated. it killed him to know that someone else had been buying you roses. 

eunseok couldnt escape the reminders of you, no matter how hard he tried. every time he saw the color red, a flood of memories would wash over him, reminding him of the times you wore that red dress he loved so much or the red lipstick that you would wear - and the sight of roses, your favorite flowers, made his heart feel sore from pulling out the thorns - reopening the mended scars from your break up. the thought of you with someone else, receiving the love and attention he had failed to give, was unbearable.

as valentines day slowly approached, eunseok found himself increasingly restless. the thought of you spending the day with sungchan, receiving roses and other gifts filled him with a burning sense of jealousy. he knew he had no right to feel this way, but he couldnt help but wish he could make it up to you, to show you that he had remembered all those little details about you. so he planned to surprise you with a bouquet of roses as well as your other favorite things at your doorstep. 

eunseok spent the days leading up to valentines day meticulously planning his surprise for you. he carefully selected a bouquet of the most beautiful roses money could buy. he also picked out your favorite chocolates and a small plushie that you had once mentioned you wanted.

valentines day finally came around and you had nothing planned as sungchan had to unfortunately work that day. sungchan told you that he would make it up to you though so you werent worried. you spent your day snuggled up under your blankets because it was a gloomy and rainy day. very fitting for your lonesome self. you found yourself rewatching '10 things i hate about you' - your favorite romcom, remembering that it was one of the first movies you watched with your ex boyfriend, eunseok. 

as you settled into your cozy spot on the sofa, rewatching your favorite romcom, the doorbell suddenly rang - interrupting your movie. confused, you made your way to the door, wondering who could be visiting you on this rainy valentines day.

as you opened the door, your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a bouquet of roses, and a few other gifts, waiting at your doorstep. the person who prepared this surprise for you though wasnt your boyfriend but rather your ex boyfriend - eunseok. 

eunseok stood right before you, slightly wet from the rain, his hair stuck to his forehead. he stood there, a little sheepish, as he looked at you as he said "happy valentines day, y/n." you were surprised to see him, especially after not speaking to him for almost a year.

"eunseok... what is this?" you asked him, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. "why are you here out of the blue and with all these gifts on valentines day of all days?" you asked him.

eunseok looked at you apologetically, realizing the shock and confusion his unexpected appearance had caused. "i know its been a long time since we've spoken" he began, his voice soft and sincere. "but seeing its valentines day... i couldnt help but want to do something nice for you." he glanced down at the gifts he had brought, his expression laced with remorse. "i know i wasnt the best boyfriend back then" he continued. "but i wanted to make up for it now." 

you felt a mix of emotions swelling within you - shock, confusion, and a hint of sadness. you stared at him, the memories of your time together flooding back, but mixed with the knowledge that you had moved on to someone else.

"why are you doing this now?" you asked, your voice slightly trembling. "you know im with someone else" you said to him.

"yes i know youre with someone else. youre with sungchan. i tried forgetting about you but i just couldnt. i missed you so much, every single day. it killed me to know that you moved on with someone else while i couldnt stop thinking about you." eunseok declared to you.

you took in his words, your heart clenching at the mention of sungchan. the rain continued to pour down outside, continuing to leave eunseok looking like a drenched puppy. you couldnt help but feel sorry for him, seeing him in this state. 

"eunseok," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "you cant just show up after all this time, giving me gifts as if nothing has happened. we broke up, remember?"

eunseok took a step closer, "i know we broke up" he said, his eyes fixed on yours. "but do you even realize how much ive thought about you since then?" the rain outside seemed to get heavier, as if it were echoing the storm between the two of you.

"thinking about me doesnt change anything" you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay strong. "i had my reasons, eunseok. you never had time for me, you could never give me what i really wanted and walking away was me just putting myself first" you continued.

eunseok didnt back down, his gaze intense and unwavering. "maybe youre right" he admitted, his voice softer now, "but that doesnt mean i stopped caring. i never stopped caring, even when it hurt like hell seeing you move on to someone new." 

eunseok reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours, hesitant. "im not asking for everything to be perfect" he said "im just asking for a chance. a chance to make things right or at least to try." you looked at his hand, then back into his eyes and for a second, you saw the eunseok you fell in love with.

"i dont know" you said finally, your voice breaking. "i just don't know, eunseok."

he nodded, understanding the weight of your uncertainty. "im here" he said quietly, "for as long as you need to figure it out. i'll wait" 

eunseok glanced at the rain, still getting soaked. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were soaked through. he shivered slightly. 

you hesitated for a moment, torn between your feelings for sungchan - you knew he wouldnt like you being inside your apartment with your ex on valentines day but you couldnt let eunseok continue to get drenched by the rain.

finally, you sighed and stepped aside. "come in" you said softly, opening the door wider. "youre going to catch a cold out there."

eunseok hesitated, unsure whether to accept your offer, but then he stepped inside, dripping water onto the floor. he placed the roses and the other gifts on your coffee table. you closed the door behind him, the sound of the rain muffled now, creating an almost intimate silence between you two.

he stood there awkwardly, looking around as if the apartment had changed in his absence. it had, in small ways. a new plant in the corner, different photos of you and sungchan on the wall - subtle signs of your life moving forward without him. 

"here," you said, handing him a towel. "dry off before you make a mess" he took the towel, wiping his face and running it through his hair. "thanks," he mumbled, glancing at you as if searching for a sign of what might come next. 

he noticed that you were watching your favorite movie, "10 things i hate about you .. its still your favorite" he said. you glanced at the screen, where kat and patrick were in the middle of their witty banter. reminding you of your relationship with eunseok. a part of you wanted to smile at his remark, but you held back, unsure if this was a moment to share in nostalgia or to keep your distance. 

"it is" you admitted quietly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the edge of the coffee table. "some things dont change, i guess" 

eunseok looked at the tv, a wistful expression crossing his face. "we used to watch this together all the time" he said, his voice soft as if he were recalling a memory he wasnt sure he had the right to revisit. "i never really liked romcoms, but i made an exception for this one… for you."

you felt a dagger to your chest at his words, memories flooding back of nights spent on this very sofa, laughing and quoting lines, sharing popcorn and stolen kisses during the quiet moments. those were the good times, the times when everything felt easy and right between you.

"i remember" you replied, trying to keep your voice even. "but that was a long time ago, eunseok. things are different now." he nodded as if expecting your response but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "yeah, i know" he said, almost to himself. he sat down on the edge of the sofa, careful not to get it wet, his eyes fixed on the tv but not really watching. 

you knew in your heart that you still had strong feelings for eunseok. he was your first boyfriend, your first time, your first everything. despite moving on to someone else you knew that you would always have a soft spot for him. your relationship with sungchan was fairly new - three months. you too had struggled moving on from eunseok, it took a lot for you to open up to someone new and seeing eunseok right in front of you had you forgetting all about sungchan.

the tension between you and eunseok continued to grow, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. the rain continued to pour outside, adding to the intimate and intense atmosphere. you watched him sit there, looking different yet so familiar. 

"eunseok" you began but you couldnt seem to find the words.

he looked at you, his eyes searching for yours in that moment. he stood up and his gaze locked onto yours. he moved closer and closed the gap between you two.

his lips made their way to yours. he pulled away to make sure that you were okay and you nodded slightly. 

he continued to kiss you, filled with all the passion, the hurt and the longing that had built up over the time you had been apart. it wasnt gentle but rather desperate, a collision of emotions that neither of you could control.

his tongue flicked against your lips seeking entrance and as you parted them, he deepened the kiss. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldnt get enough of you. 

without breaking the kiss, eunseok guided you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the sofa. you sank down onto the cushions pulling him with you. his hands roamed your body, reacquainting themselves with every inch of your skin and you couldnt help but respond, your hands exploring him with the same urgency. 

he could feel the heat of your body and the way you trembled slightly under his touch. "eunseok" you whispered against his lips. he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes with intensity. "i need you" his voice murmured rough with emotion.

you kissed him again and he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a desperation that mirrored your own. 

as the intensity between you two kept growing, eunseoks hands travelled down your body, slipping under your shirt as he unclipped your bra with ease like he always did in the past. you shivered at the familiar sensation of his hands against your skin, memories of your past together flooding back.

you responded, lifting your arms to let him remove your shirt, exposing your bare skin to his gaze.

"youre still beautiful as ever"

he leaned down, his lips trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, worshipping every inch of you. 

his hands made their way to your shorts, gently slipping them off and he shifts your red panties feeling your wetness, eager for him to please you.

"you still wear the red panties that i love" he muttered.

he slipped two fingers into your slit before slowly starting to move them, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with ease. your breath hitched as he worked his fingers inside you, building a rhythm that made your body tremble with anticipation. 

"eunseok" you whispered, barely able to form any words as the pleasure began to overwhelm you. his name on your lips seemed to spur him on as his movements became more and more urgent. he added a third finger, stretching you in a way that felt almost too good. 

"look at you" he muttered, his voice laced with desire. "so responsive, just like before" 

his words sent a shiver down your spine. you were a moaning mess as your body arched into eunseoks touch as he continued to play your body like a well practiced instrument.

you were on edge, so close to release, when he suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping at the loss. before you could protest, he was sliding down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a fiery trail of kisses until he settled between your thighs.  

eunseok looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. "i wanna taste you" he said, his voice filled with eagerness.

he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste your arousal and you moaned at the sensation. 

his mouth worked wonders on you, his tongue moving in tandem with the fingers he reintroduced, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you couldnt hold back any longer, crying out his name as your climax washed over you in waves. 

he didnt stop until you were trembling, only then did he crawl back up your body, capturing your lips in a slow and deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

"i missed you" he whispered against your lips, his voice tender now, filled with emotion that mirrored your own.

as you lay on the sofa, the weight of everything that had just happened pressed down on you. the warmth of eunseoks body beside you was both comforting and unsettling. you couldnt deny that the connection between you was still there, strong and undeniable but at the same time, it felt like a step backward - like you were treading on old ground that had long been left behind.

eunseoks fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, his breath still slightly uneven. "i missed you" he whispered again, but this time there was a hint of something deeper in his voice - hope, maybe, or something even more desperate.

you closed your eyes, letting the words hang in the air between you. part of you wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in the familiarity of eunseoks touch and the memories of what you once had.

eunseoks arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if he feared you might disappear if he let go. 

"y/n" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "im sorry for everything - for not being the boyfriend you needed back then… for not showing you how much you meant to me."

you felt your heart ache at his words. you turned slightly in his arms, looking up into his eyes, which were filled with regret and a deep longing.

"im sorry too" you whispered, reaching up to gently touch his face. "i never really stopped loving you, eunseok. even when i tried to move on, a part of me was still holding onto what we had."

his eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the truth in your words. "do you think we can try again? start over?"

you hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. you thought of sungchan but in your heart, you knew where you truly belonged. sungchan was kind and attentive, everything you thought you wanted, but your connection with eunseok was something different - deeper, more complex, and undeniable.

"i want to" you finally said, your voice steady. "but we cant go back to what we were. we have to be better for each other this time."

eunseoks face lit up with a mixture of hope and relief. he leaned into you, capturing your lips in a slow and tender kiss, one that felt like a promise - a promise to do things right this time, to be the partner you deserved.

when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, breathing in the closeness between you. "we'll take it slow" you said softly. "but im willing to try if you are."

"im all in" he whispered, his voice full of determination. "i wont let you down again, y/n. i'll be here for you, always."

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

Bi-Yearly Book Catalogue (2024)

Every book I’ve read the past six months and what I thought, told as briefly as I can manage.

One Star Books:

Loveless by Alice Oseman

I understand that this book was helpful for a lot of people. It was the opposite of helpful for me.

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

My gripes with this can be whittled down into: this writer does not understand depression but really, really wants to cure it. Also, if you do decide to give this book a try, please mind the subject material. It really, really isn’t for everyone.

Two Star Books:

N/A

Three Star Books:

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

A simple book about an old man learning to want to live again. Where ‘The Midnight Library’ failed for me, this one succeeded. If you plan to read this one, be mindful of the content warnings. It also isn’t for everyone.

Lily and the Octopus by Steven Rowely

It’s about a dog who has cancer. I think that says it all. There were parts of this book I really liked and parts I really didn’t like. It lost me halfway through and I stopped caring about the stakes, which is really upsetting when the stakes are a dog. But the good parts are really, really good. Just be mindful of the premise going into it.

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune

I liked the character work, loved the world building and on a technical level the writing was well-done. My gripes have to do with the story’s internal contradictions and how the only character traits I can think of for the main character are “asexual” and “inventor,” neither of which are explored properly (emphasis on asexual here). I didn’t like that despite being 21, the main character was narratively treated like a child, often involving his sexuality. I had to google how old he was multiple times because I couldn’t believe he wasn’t in his mid-teens given how he reacted to the story and how the story treated him. Loved the writing on a technical level, though, and I do plan to read more from this author.

Four Star Books:

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

A COFFEE shop AU? In MY high fantasy? If you like DnD, low-stakes high-fantasy and fun character work, give this one a read. It’s very cozy.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

It’s a book about a nonbinary tea monk and a robot who lives in the mountains. Slow-paced with good vibes and great world building. I read it in an evening and came away from it feeling warm.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship breaks my heart again. This was incredibly well-written and appropriately devastating. I just wanted them to be happy.

Countdown to Countdown by Kong Xiao Tong (graphic novel)

I bought a physical copy of this because I’ve always loved the artist’s work and wanted to support, and I enjoyed it a LOT. Beautiful art, fantastic characters. I know not everyone can avoid a physical copy, but the webcomic is available to read for free online and I highly recommend giving it a try.

Our Dining Table by Ori Mita (manga)

Learning to enjoy mealtime with loved ones again after childhood trauma? Y’all. It’s a single-volume manga and it’s well worth your time.

Five Star Books:

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

This was the most devastating book I’ve ever read. If you are interested in reading it: find a list of content warnings first. I went in blind. It is hauntingly real and the author handled the material so, so well. I can’t recommend this book without that caveat. But it’s one of the best-written books I’ve read.

The Saturday Night Ghost Club by Craig Davidson

This book is about a man looking back on his life as a boy - the friends he made and the misadventurous ghost-hunts his uncle dragged them into. It’s just the right amount of campy with fun characters and a brilliant use of prose. If you’re a less experienced reader and want a book that is easily digestible while also being extraordinarily well-written, I’d recommend this book in a heartbeat, and it’s every bit as entertaining for more advanced readers.

What you are looking for is in the library by Aoyama Michiko

Five stories about five people, all in different stages of life, and their unique experiences with the same librarian and the same library. Individually, each character in each story has their unsatisfying lives changed in an unexpectedly simple way, thanks to the library. There’s nothing wild about this book, but it is wildly impactful. The library is for everyone!

Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson

Heroine travels the treacherous seas to save the man she loves. It’s a book about perspectives and joy and making unlikely friends, breaking curses through clever means and never, ever giving up. It has all the whimsy of a classic fairytale, yet not once could I predict how it was going to end. It’s fast-paced and hard to put down. The world is intriguing and the characters are wonderful.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

This book is utterly mind-bending and I loved it. Two time-travelers chase each other through reality on opposing sides of the Time War and gradually fall in love. It’s great. The biggest complaint I see leveled at this book comes from less experienced readers who struggle to follow the narrative - and I do agree, if you’re just getting into reading for fun this might be a book to save for later. But don’t let me stop you. I loved this book.

Conclusion:

Reading is great. Libraries are your friend. I always love book recommendations and I’m on GoodReads as BeyondTheClouds777, predictably. If any of y’all take a stab at these books (or have taken stabs in the past), I’d love to hear your thoughts! I’m back in my bookworm era and thriving.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 1

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, lots of stereotypical fall activities, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~6.5k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. this is part 1, the full fic is in 3 parts and the dates for the next 2 parts are at the bottom. also thank you to my bby indi for beta reading @wongyuseokie and creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the next 2 parts, send an ask or dm or just comment 💕

masterlist | next

Fall has never been Chan’s favorite season. The weather cools down, but it’s in this weird in-between. One day, it’s cold enough for heavy jackets, and the next it’s almost warm enough to wear shorts. It starts to get dark too early as the days get shorter, which makes it feel like there’s just less time in the day. Or, even worse, there are days when Chan leaves the apartment in the dark and returns in the dark. Everything feels like it’s dying with the leaves falling. It seems like it should be a season of thankfulness and friends and holidays, but it just ends up feeling like an ending in a bad way. He’s not cynical, he’s just not really sure he likes this time of year.

“I wish I had someone to do fall things with me,” you announce to nobody in particular. 

Okay, well maybe Chan needs to rethink this whole opinion on the season. Because here’s the other thing, he’s always been drawn to you. Sure, you’re his friend. It’s just, he’s always been closer to your brother, Jay. Always a little envious, too. You and Jay are friends as much as siblings, despite you being two years older. So much so that your friend group is somewhat merged. Chan knows that Jay has friends you don’t hang around with and that the same goes for you. It’s still nice, though. Seeing the two of you, he understands what it means to love family and also like them. 

Yet in all those years of friendship, Chan can still remember the moment when he started seeing you differently. You’d called Jay late one night, no text or anything, and Jay picked up right away because it was so unlike you. It was your first real breakup, a guy you met and started dating in college, the only time you and Jay had been really separated. Even if the separation was only a two hour drive. You were so devastated that Jay switched to a video call and convinced you to come home for the weekend. All Chan can remember is how much he wanted to protect you from ever feeling that way again. He knew you didn’t deserve the way that guy made you feel. Then, the new school year came around, and he and Jay were on campus with you. The draw has only gotten stronger since then.

“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for?” Jay asks. 

You roll your eyes affectionately. “He doesn’t really like the fall. Plus, he’s super busy with work projects. He doesn’t want to go pick apples or adventuring or any of that stuff.”

The way you play it off feels casual, like it doesn’t actually matter. Your eyes tell a different story. Chan’s heart breaks a little as he does everything he can to not show it. Jay, unfortunately for you, also notices.

“Is everything okay with…shit, what’s his name?” Jay asks. 

“Come on, Jay, they hard launched like 6 months ago, shouldn’t you know his name by now?” Lisa, ever the best friend to you, chimes in. 

“Ease up, Lisa,” you say, voice a little tired. “Things with Seungsik are fine, he’s just busy right now.” 

“Hey,” Jay starts.

“We can always do fall stuff with you,” Chan hears himself offer without even realizing he’s saying anything. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him.

“Bro, you hate fall shit,” Vernon scoffs.

“I do not,” Chan retorts.

“Since when? I had to twist your arm for Friendsgiving last year,” Jay counters. 

“That is true,” Lisa agrees.

“No you too,” Chan directs at Lisa.

“That’s really sweet, Channie,” you cut across the bickering. It takes everything in him to remain neutral at your compliment and the use of a nickname. “Maybe we can do some stuff as a group. I feel like Fall is the time for friends anyway.” 

There’s a smattering of agreement, names thrown out of other friends that aren’t there, lighthearted eye rolls at how into this season you are, and more than a glance or two in Chan’s direction. He does his best to ignore those. He doesn’t need to think about them right now. All he can really focus on is that he agreed to get up insanely early on Sunday morning so that you could take this train ride that you’ve wanted to do in the Fall to see all the trees changing colors. Especially since the colors are more vibrant this year. Which is fine. Chan doesn’t really mind being up early, but nobody else is committing to go. Not even your brother. The fact that you seem unbothered at it being just you and him makes Chan’s stomach flip. 

Chan is nervous when it comes time to leave for the train ride. You offered to pick him up since you were dragging him out of the warmth of his bed so early in the morning and even said he didn’t have to go through with it. Which meant you probably wouldn’t go through with it because the two other people that had tentatively agreed backed out the night before. Even over text, Chan could tell that you were disappointed at the thought of not going. And even he had to admit that he was curious about the draw of this particular activity. So off you went.

It only takes one day for Chan to start changing his opinion on the season. Or, one person. There’s something about the way your face lights up the second you’re on the train that takes him over as well. You’re more excited, still, that the train doesn’t seem that crowded, so the two of you will have your own little area to sit in without anyone else that close by. Sheepishly, you admit that the train runs multiple times a day, but this gives you the most time at the top of the mountain. Taking advantage of how rare it is to spend time alone with you, Chan asks you what exactly it is that you love about Fall. Maybe if he hears from someone who loves it, he’ll see it differently.

He watches as your face transforms. Your eyes get wide, and a genuine smile spreads across your face, gone just long enough to ask if he’s sure. All Chan can do is laugh because it’s so endearing. But he nods, and you’re like a kid at Christmas. You start with the leaves as the train pulls away from the station. There’s more to them than just changing color and falling to the ground, at least to you. Yes, they’re pretty, like shades of gold fluttering along with the wind and bringing good fortune. You liken it to growth in a way Chan never considered. Sure, the leaves are changing color and dying. It’s also about growth and release. Trees need to let go of their leaves so they can go into their next phase. So they can be ready to grow new leaves and new life in the spring. You don’t get that without the release in the Fall. 

You like the way things taste fresher, too. The way apples feel crisper because it’s when they were meant to be enjoyed. The way vanilla and cinnamon just warm your soul with everything they’re baked into. You love the comfort, like a warm blanket, of just being able to bake so many things. When Chan points out that you bake all year around, you get that playful smile again. You agree and disagree at the same time. You can bake all year round, but certain things were just meant for when the weather starts to get colder. 

Most of all, you really just feel like it’s a positive change. Of learning to let go of all the things that are holding you back. Of cutting out those parts of life that feel dead or stagnant. Of starting the process to allow new things to grow. Chan doesn’t mention that maybe you’re not as good at that part as you want to think. He can tell you want to be, but he wonders if you realize there’s someone in your life who really isn’t adding anything to it anymore. He doesn’t mention Seungsik and neither do you. 

When you get to the top and step off the train, Chan gasps at the sight. He’s never really stopped to appreciate nature like this and it’s overwhelming in the best way. It makes him feel kind of small, except it’s not a bad feeling, and he’s really glad that you suggested taking the early train because it means the top of the mountain isn’t crowded. He’s so busy taking in the clear views that go on for miles that he doesn’t even notice the way your face lights up watching his reaction. He can’t possibly know how full your heart is at him being so present. 

“This is beautiful,” he whispers. It seems like a crime to disrupt the peace.

“Yeah, it is,” you agree. There’s something in the way you say it that makes Chan look over at you. By the time he looks, though, your eyes are on the horizon as well. 

“Have you done this before? I don’t feel like I remember Jay talking about it at all,” Chan asks, still watching you.

You stiffen for a second in a way that’s entirely at odds with the mention of your brother. Or maybe your mind is a million miles away. That’s another thing that Chan’s always found so interesting about you. There’s a brightness and a lightness about you, but there’s also a sense of mystery. LIke there are parts of yourself that you always hold back. Like you want to appear to be entirely open, even though you’re not. Like there are secret parts that only your closest relationships get to know.

“Jay wouldn’t have,” you finally answer with a smile. “Our grandparents brought me when we were both still little. But Jay wasn’t interested, so he stayed with our parents. I’ve wanted to do it again as an adult, but you know, life happens.” 

“Anyone who cares about you would want to see this,” Chan admits as he looks out at the views again. 

It’s too honest, and Chan knows it, but there’s just something about this kind of environment that makes him want to admit things he shouldn’t. Or wouldn’t, normally. There’s something like anonymity surrounded by this much nature. It reminds you just how small people are in comparison. He’s also thankful that you seem to be agreeing that you can say those unspoken things here. That is, until he feels your hand on his arm, turning him to look at you.

“Thank you, Chan,” you say with more sincerity than he’s ever heard in all the time he’s known you. “I care about you, too.” 

“I, um,” Chan starts and clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”

“We’ve never hung out like this, just the two of us,” you say, still watching him.

“No, we haven’t,” Chan agrees because it’s all he can do to hold onto his rapidly slipping composure.

“I was…okay, this is gonna sound dumb, but I was a little nervous. That’s why I tried to give you an out,” you say. Your voice is soft and you look down at your feet. Like it’s too much to admit while looking at Chan and when it’s so quiet all around you.

“I almost took it,” Chan tells you.

“Why didn’t you? Weren’t you worried?” you wonder.

Chan shrugs to buy himself a second. “Because it was important to you. I figured it was better to roll the dice and risk it being a little awkward so you didn’t miss out.”

You turn away, but Chan catches the look on your face anyway. Catches the way you take a steadying breath. Can’t miss the way you try to hide as you wipe away a tear. The last thing he wanted to do was make you upset. And even though his heart is racing, he pulls you into a hug. He’s not sure what else to do except whisper sorries against your hair.

“No, no, no,” you finally say. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I made you cry,” Chan disagrees.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just so insanely sweet that I was overwhelmed for a minute,” you tell him. 

“Guess it was awkward after all,” Chan says. It’s a little self-deprecating. 

“No, it wasn’t,” you assure him. “This is so much more than I could have asked for. I’m just, I guess I’m not really used to people doing things like this for me.”

Chan is thankful he’s not holding you anymore because there’s no way to hide the way his heart tries to beat out of his chest. All he can do is smile and hope that you can’t read his thoughts because they’re a weird mix. His heart is full that you’re so appreciative of something that seems so small. Sure, life is short, and there are only so many days. But it’s also too short to pass up on opportunities to see something different like this. To actually stop and experience the world around you instead of just rushing to the next day. His heart also breaks at the idea of you not being used to people doing things like this for you. Because it seems so small. It doesn’t seem like some huge thing to do. Chan and Jay have been friends for more than 10 years, so he’s known you for a long time. He knows that you don’t have the best taste in partners. Still, though. He can’t imagine something so small being so impactful to you.

The two of you mostly stick close together, or at least within eyesight of each other. There’s so much to see at the top of the mountain. Little signs seem to ring around the edges, telling people what they’re looking at or giving a history. Each one makes Chan appreciate the views even more. Every once in a while, he also catches you watching him and smiling, like you’re still checking that he’s enjoying himself. He can’t say that, of course, he’s enjoying himself, he’s with you, but he tries to smile back every time. 

Eventually, you suggest having lunch at the restaurant next to the little station where the train stops. He’s been so busy taking in his surroundings that he doesn’t even realize that he’s hungry. Right on queue, his stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and you laugh it off. Once you’re sitting down, you can’t seem to settle on one thing for lunch. Without thinking, Chan suggests that you just share a few different things so you can try what you want. Who knows when you’ll be back up here again? Although you seem hesitant at first, a little reassurance from Chan goes a long way. That and him insisting he’ll be happy with whatever you order. 

It’s truly an entirely perfect day, one neither of you really wants to end, even if you won’t admit it to the other. But you have to take the train down eventually and come back to reality.

“Sorry I have to take this,” you say with a frown at your phone. 

Chan thinks it says Seungsik, which makes him frown, too. It takes a real effort for him not to follow you out of the room with his eyes. Not that Jay, Seokmin, or Jiyeon would notice. They’re currently locked in a Mario Kart battle, with Jiyeon winning yet again. Chan risks a glance in your direction and makes a snap decision. 

“Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?” Chan asks.

“Yeah, something to drink,” Seokmin says.

“Is losing making you thirsty?” Jiyeon teases. 

“You can’t win forever, Ji,” Jay shoots back. “Come on, Seok, we can work together on this.” 

“That’s cheating,” Jiyeon giggles. 

Chan ignores the banter to go to the kitchen. Ostensibly, he’s actually planning to get drinks for the group in the living room. Realistically, he’s curious about what’s making you frown and if you’re okay. From his spot in the kitchen, he can hear your voice drifting through the door of Jay’s bedroom. It’s hard to focus on getting drinks.

“I understand that your work is important, but,” you start, working to stay quiet despite the annoyance in your voice.

Maybe this was a bad idea because he wishes he could hear the other side. Or at least know for sure that it was Seungsik. 

“Yes, I’m aware that you think it’s just a stupid Fall tradition,” you huff. “No, baby, I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter. It’s the weekend, though.”

Well, at least he knows that it’s Seungsik. Not that it makes it any better.

“That’s not fair, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t want you to work hard or try to get that promotion. You know how much I support you. It’s just I want to matter too,” you say, and Chan’s heart fully breaks at the heartbreak in your voice.

What is wrong with this man that he can’t take a second away from work to spend time with one of the most beautiful people in the world? 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You’re always working or networking and…” you trail off. “No, I do get that networking is part of the job, and you’re up for a promotion…Wow, yes, I do get how hard your job is. But do you get that you keep making promises to me and breaking them?”

There’s a bite to your voice that’s entirely foreign to Chan. It’s also at complete odds with the undercurrent of defeat. There are two sides warring during this conversation, and Chan doesn’t really recognize either of them. 

“It’s not just some stupid fall tradition,” you say. It’s without any bite now. You’re defeated. “It’s…yeah, I get it. You think it’s dumb. It’s fine, I understand you won’t be coming.” 

It feels like the conversation is probably ending, so Chan turns his back away from the bedroom to focus on drinks. All he can do is hope that nothing about his posture gives him away. But he can’t help listening anyway, and he hears you ending the phone call before shuffling towards the kitchen all the same.

“Oh,” you nearly gasp. 

As casually as he can manage, Chan turns around towards your voice with a bag of chips in one hand. That plan goes out the window when he sees you rubbing your eyes. All he wants is to be able to protect you from the world. Because you deserve better. Not that he thinks he’s better. He just knows you deserve more than this. More than being unhappy every time he sees you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks. He meant to ask if you wanted anything to drink, yet couldn’t ignore your frown.

“How long have you been in here?” you ask. 

Chan shrugs. “Not long, just came to get them some drinks and figured I’d grab chips. Do you want anything?” 

“That’s a loaded question,” you say under your breath. 

“You okay?” Chan asks again. He knows you’re not, but he doesn’t really want to admit that he was listening to your side of the conversation. 

“Can I…ugh, this is so weird, but can I just have a hug?” Your eyes are a little wide and a whole lot vulnerable. 

It’s silly, but he would give you anything if it meant that you wouldn’t look broken. No, that’s the wrong word. There’s nothing wrong with being a little broken. It’s just that he wishes Seungsik wasn’t letting you down time after time. Chan sets down the chips and opens his arms without a word. There’s relief on your face as you step forward and wrap your arms around his middle. Your head rests on his shoulder and he feels the moment that your body releases the tension. Feels the moment when your breathing relaxes to match his own. When you step away, your eyes at least look a little happier.

“It’s never weird to ask for a hug from a friend,” Chan tells you. 

You laugh at that, a real laugh, and for a second, Chan wonders why. “You seem to be getting a lot of my emotional side lately.”

Chan just shrugs again. “I’m happy to see whatever side you wanna show me.”

Just then, Jay comes into the kitchen, grumbling about losing another game. He doesn’t even look at Chan or you before going to grab the drinks on the counter. It’s probably the perfect timing so that Chan doesn’t say anything else that’s too honest.

“I thought you were leaving,” Jay says to you. 

“Wow, trying to get rid of me already?” you ask without any of the normal teasing Jay is used to.

“Of course not. I just thought you were going apple picking with Seungsik,” Jay answers. 

It’s then that he seems to really look at you and realizes something is wrong. He looks like he’s about to take back his words when you open your mouth. “No, he’s too busy with something for work. So I’ll probably just stick around here.” 

Chan looks at your brother and hopes he picks up the same wavelength. It seems he does because he sighs in resignation. But it’s a mark of how concerned he is that he doesn’t mention Seungsik being a dick for this. “Why don’t we go with you?” 

“What?” you ask.

“Hey,” Jay calls into the living room. “Who wants to go apple picking?” 

“I’m in, beating you and Seokmin is getting boring,” Jiyeon answers. 

“You haven’t won every one,” Seokmin whines. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you say softly to your brother.

“Oh, are we going with you?” Jiyeon asks. “I’m in. Can I call Vernon and drag him along?”

“We should ask Lisa if she wants to come too. She loves that stuff,” Seokmin suggests. “I haven’t actually gone apple picking in forever.” 

“It’s a lost cause,” Chan tells you, “we’re all going apple picking now.” 

“Fine,” you pretend to sigh, “but can I ride with you? Jay’s a shitty driver.” 

“I resent that,” Jay scoffs. 

It takes a little time to let everyone know where to meet, but Jay manages to wrangle the group well enough so that they all make it to the orchard. True to your word, you ride with Chan. Jay and Jiyeon go to pick up Vernon, and Seokmin goes to pick up Lisa and Mina. Once everyone is there and the bags are bought, groups start to wander off in different directions to look for the best apples. Because, of course, Jiyeon has turned this into a competition and is convinced she can make the best apple pie. Chan knew by the sparkle in your eye that you weren’t going to just settle for that one. 

“You’re on,” you say and shake on it. 

“Well, this is interesting,” Jay notes. 

“Come on, Jay, you’re on my team,” Jiyeon says and grabs his arm.

“Uh, hello, that’s my brother,” you argue. 

“Yeah, and he’s tall, better for reaching the perfect apple,” Jiyeon says with a shrug. “Snooze, you lose.”

“If you’re that worried about the perfect apples up high, I’ve already won,” you reason before turning to Chan. “Come on, Chan, you’re with me.” 

He doesn’t even hesitate for a minute, which would probably be a little embarrassing if he wasn’t actually looking forward to the afternoon. It seems you have a plan, and all he really has to do is follow along. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been alone with you, either. Any awkwardness left with the train ride. 

There’s more to picking apples than just picking the first ones you see, as Chan quickly finds out. You consult the little flyer about which ones are in season and start talking about which types of apples make the best pies. Which are the best for tarts. Which are the best for a bunch of desserts that he’s never heard of. It goes way over his head when you’re talking about the different flavors of apples and which goes best with cinnamon and nutmeg and all the flavors that remind you of the Fall. He’s always known that you loved to bake, but there's something different about seeing it in action like this. And you’re not even actually cooking. 

Despite your insistence about the height of apples, you do come across some trees where the lower ones all look bad, even by Chan’s standards. When there’s a ladder around, he offers to climb up it so that you can have the perfect apple. It seems to make you smile every time. The system works pretty well until you come to a tree with the perfect apples and no ladder in sight. In hindsight, it’ll definitely seem stupid. That he helps you fixate on something so small as the perfect apple. Yet, at the moment, it makes perfect sense.

“Here, climb on my shoulders,” Chan offers and bends down.

“No, it’s really okay,” you say, waving him off.

“If you want the apples, then let’s get you the apples,” Chan insists.

“I’m too heavy,” you protest.

“You’re not,” Chan promises. 

“You’re not going to drop me, are you?” you worry.

“Never,” Chan assures you. 

He stays crouched down to allow you to climb onto his shoulders. Once you hook your legs around his back and he grabs your knees, he stands up, very thankful that he’s never skipped leg day. What he’s not counting on, or prepared for, is your surprise. Because in that surprise,  your thighs squeeze either side of his face. He’s sure it’s an involuntary action. He’s sure you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Yet it makes him swallow hard all the same. As soon as he steadies himself (mentally, that is, because physically he’s fine), he steps towards the tree. On his shoulders, you’re easily tall enough to reach the apples you wanted in the first place. 

“Thank you,” you say softly when he lets you back down.

“No problem,” Chan says, ignoring the slight dryness in his throat.

Apparently, taking the perfect pictures in the orchard is just as important as picking the apples. Chan does roll his eyes about that a little bit but agrees to be your photographer anyway. It’s the same thing all over again. Your face lights up at having someone to do all these things with and he’s putty in your hands. It’s impossible to say no. There’s a moment where he can tell that you’re a little upset that your boyfriend isn’t there to take pictures with you. Obviously, part of the whole thing should involve him in your perfect world. Yet he’s not the one that’s here. Instead, Chan offers to take a picture of the two of you and then take some with your other friends when you meet back up. 

The group also has to decide just how to judge this baking contest. The only rules that you and Jiyeon agree to is that it has to be something baked and it has to use the apples. Beyond that, it’s up to whoever wants to participate just what they make. It’s not usually Seokmin’s thing, but he offers to help Mina bake and, since neither of them are that good, you and Jiyeon allow it. 

“Why don’t we get together next weekend and do something else?” Vernon suggests. 

“Like what?” Jay asks.

“Pumpkin carving!” you shout out.

“You know what? That actually sounds fun, and we haven’t done it in years,” Jay says.

“Yeah, we always used to have the best pumpkins as kids,” you agree.

“They were pretty cool,” Chan agrees. 

“So pumpkins and whatever baked apple thing to see who wins?” Vernon asks.

Everyone agrees, and Chan can’t help but look to you. Anything you might have been feeling over your boyfriend missing yet another Fall activity that matters to you is forgotten. Or you’re doing a very good job at hiding it. All your face shows is happiness. It’s kind of infectious. 

It doesn’t get much more stereotypically Fall than going to the pumpkin patch and taking pictures. Really, it’s pretty cliche. Yet, you seem unfazed by the entire prospect. You’re layered up, just like everyone else, to fight off the crispness of the air. Unlike everyone else, your face lights up when you pull up to the orchard, a different one than where you picked the apples. There are rows upon rows of pumpkins, all waiting to go to the perfect homes. You’re out of the car and off to walk through the rows before anyone else, and you don’t seem to have a care in the world. 

There’s an art, Chan learns, to picking the best pumpkin. It all depends on what exactly someone wants to carve. Too small, and it feels crowded, too big and the face gets swallowed. Unless you make everything bigger, which is always an option. That gets a chuckle out of Vernon and a smack to his arm from Lisa. Lisa, always entirely honest, is really just in it for the pictures and then for whatever baked goods they get to taste test later. She’s happy to carve a pumpkin too, but she wants to use a stencil. And fully admits that she’ll probably get bored halfway through. 

Almost unconsciously, or maybe by habit at this point, Chan finds himself wandering through the rows with you. Every now and then, you pause to consider a pumpkin before moving on. There’s so much concentration on the task, and he can’t help but to wonder if you’re just excited or if you’re also avoiding thinking about other things. 

“What are you looking for?” Chan finally asks. 

You turn and regard him for a second, evidently deciding that he’s just curious rather than judgmental. “Okay, don’t think it’s lame…”

“Why would I?” he asks honestly.

“I sort of have a couple ideas for what I want to carve,” you admit. “Do you, is it okay if I show you?”

“Yeah, of course,” comes Chan’s immediate reply. 

There’s that smile again, the one that lights up your whole face like this is the best day that you can imagine.  You pull your phone out of your pocket and open your photos. It’s hard to miss that all the recent images are from the things you’ve done as a group or screenshots or things saved from random searches. There aren’t any recent ones, as you quickly scroll, with you and Seungsik. His attention is pulled back to the task at hand when you show him a couple of different carving ideas you have. 

“Which one do you like best?” you ask after showing him several. 

“It’s hard to pick. Honestly, I think you should get a couple of pumpkins,” Chan answers. 

That actually seems to make you happier as you pluck one from nearby that’s apparently perfect for at least one of your ideas. Chan offers to hold it for you as the two of you carry on in finding just the right pumpkins. It’s interesting, especially having picked apples with you, that you spend so much more care in this. You explain that some of the pumpkins don’t have the best sides so they don’t look as good when you carve them. They’re good for displaying as is or good to back with, but you want the prettiest pumpkins if you’re carving something.

Well, he can’t really argue with that. 

Once you’re all back at his and Jay’s apartment, everyone splits off in different directions. You and Jiyeon immediately go to bring out your apple desserts. Chan’s a little surprised, still, that Seokmin and Mina actually made something together. But it all looks good, and he’s kind of hungry. Lisa, who suggested ordering actual food, manages to get the bags inside with Vernon’s help. The two of them get to work setting all the food out on the counter for people to start getting plates. Chan starts pulling out plates and glasses for everyone. Jay clears off their little dining table, which isn’t big enough for everyone, as well as the coffee table. It’s not like this is anything formal anyway. 

Even though you and Jiyeon want to start with the desserts, Mina manages to convince you to have actual food first. Then, as everyone is carving, they can start trying whatever looks best to them. You reluctantly agree from your spot on the floor. There’s plenty of space to sit on the couch, but instead, you sit on the floor, right next to Chan’s legs, occasionally brushing against him as you move. It’s a little harder for him to watch you without being so obvious and just as hard to ignore your presence. There’s a vibrance to you again, like everything in your world is right. Like nothing could possibly be missing. It doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t mention Seungsik; don’t seem to be missing him during this activity. It’s not like apple picking where he bailed. He was never part of these plans. Maybe that’s the key, or maybe you’re realizing that doing all of this with friends can be just as fun. Whatever the reason, Chan wants you to keep smiling like this. 

After protesting, sitting on the floor to eat, Chan has to agree that sitting on the floor to carve pumpkins makes the most sense. It’s easier when you’re not bending over to the coffee table level. It also gives him more space. Like Lisa, he’s using a stencil that he printed out. He wants it to be perfect, and he’s not sure he could do it freehand. 

“Okay, I want dessert. Who’s going to tell me what’s what?” Vernon announces.

You’re up before anyone can say anything to grab your desserts. Plural. “Okay, so I made two…”

“Which is cheating,” Jiyeon interjects.

“Is not,” you reply and stick your tongue out at her. You open each container. “These are just apple fritters and these are salted caramel apple bars.”

“Tell me you did not make caramel from scratch, too,” Jiyeon whines. 

“It’s so easy, of course I did,” you retort. 

“Ugh, of course,” Jiyeon groans. “Anyway, I made apple-pomegranate cobbler.”

“Which looks amazing,” you compliment, causing Jiyeon to beam. 

“And since we knew these two would go totally over the top, we just made plain old apple pie,” Mina says. 

“Hey, we worked hard, don’t undersell it,” Seokmin points out.

“I’m sure it’s great, Seok,” Lisa says to pacify him. 

“I’m going to eat it all,” Vernon announces.

He goes to get a plate and, true to his word, puts some of everything on it. You carry on carving and wave off Chan’s offer to get you something. It’s hard not to play favorites, but he also doesn’t want some of everything. At least not yet. So he grabs one of the salted caramel apple bars that you made and some of Jiyeon’s dessert. Things get quiet again as everyone is either enjoying the dessert or focusing on their pumpkins. 

Despite Vernon taking a break to eat as much dessert as he could stomach, he does get back to working on his pumpkin and it’s annoying how good it looks. He went in without a plan and his pumpkin is one of the best. Chan thinks his could probably be a lot better, but he’s also happy with it. As predicted, Lisa abandoned hers halfway through and has been picking music to play ever since. It’s kind of nice, though, to have her doing that. It makes the whole afternoon into the evening pass by in the best way. 

Chan should probably think of new words, but this is another one of those days that just feels like the best of the season. Everyone is together and happy. Nobody is fighting, unless it’s you and Jiyeon playfully arguing when your apple bars win as the best dessert. It’s fine to be in your feelings, and Chan meant it when he said he would be happy with whatever side you wanted to show him. It’s also important to have the lighter days. The easy days. The ones that make weathering the storm a little more manageable. It’s clear there’s definitely still a storm, and he’s thankful for the little breaks like this. 

However, as it turns to night, everyone starts to filter out of the apartment. Seokmin, Mina, and Lisa want to go out to the bar and ask if anyone else wants to come. Jiyeon and Vernon already planned to go out to dinner. They’re still in that phase where they want to act like they’re not dating, even though they definitely are, and everyone is happy for them. Jay’s been talking to someone off some dating app that he wants to go hang out with. That just leaves you and Chan.

“I’m actually kinda tired, so I think I might just stay in,” Chan tells Seokmin when he asks again if either of you wants to come to the bar with them.

“I don’t really feel like going out,” you admit before looking at Chan. “Do you mind if I stay here with you?”

“Course not,” Chan answers, ignoring the look he knows Jay is giving the two of you. Your brother’s never really been good at being subtle. 

“Lame, but I get it,” Lisa says with a shrug.  Everyone but Jay filters out for their plans and he disappears into his bedroom to get ready. Chan gets up to start cleaning up and putting everything away. 

“You don’t need to help. You’re a guest,” Chan tells you when you join in on the cleaning.

“Wow, a guest? And here I thought we were friends,” you scoff. 

Chan shakes his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“I figure if I help then I can rope you into watching a movie with me,” you answer.

“Fine,” Chan says, pretending to be put out.

Truthfully, he’s going to agree to whatever you want to do. You could say that you wanted to learn a new language and Chan would probably at least give it a try. Down horrifically bad. Yet, he’s too caught up in thinking about hanging out with you again that he doesn’t see the way you look over at him every few minutes. Misses the way your gaze softens at how much care he uses in moving the pumpkins. Misses the way your eyes rake over him as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize things are starting to shift for you as well. 

Instead, the two of you finish cleaning up mostly in silence and are settling onto the couch by the time Jay reemerges. Convenient timing given that he doesn’t have to even make up an excuse about why he can’t help. You’re quick to call him on it and he’s just as quick to brush it off as he runs out the door. It leaves you and Chan on your own for the night. So you pick the place for take away and Chan picks the first movie. Just like that, you settle in for the night. 

part 2 coming on dec. 3rd, part 3 coming on dec. 6th. let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged 💕

[dysfunctionalupsidedown]

An Analysis Of "STurn": My Turn

Hello, everyone! This is my first real post/analysis of anything Stranger Things related, so please keep that in mind while reading. I'm sure there are quite a few analyses about this playlist already (I'm definitely late to the party,) but I still wanted to add my two cents.

Feel free to let me know if any information I've provided is incorrect. My main source is Genius.com, which isn't at all the most reliable; even still, it'll help to give a clearer picture of each track's meaning and how the general public (which includes Finn) interprets them. I'm attempting to go by what I think Finn's intentions were.

Also, don't forget that this analysis was done under the assumption that the "STurn" playlist is a somewhat play-by-play outline of how specifically Mike Wheeler's S5 arcs might happen. The playlist could be entirely unrelated to ST5. It could be related to all the characters and arcs in ST5. It could be out of order, or based on vibes -- We really have no way of knowing until the full season comes out.

Finally, I tried my best to keep the analysis somewhat objective and reasonable, and I hope I've at least partly succeeded. This is all in good fun, in the end. Now that I've finished housekeeping, please enjoy my thoughts and feel free to chime in with your ideas in the comments! I'm always open to changing my perspective.

1. Ballad of the Texas King

Let's begin! This song starts with the lyrics, "No one saw / Nothing at all, no law was there to fight / All dressed down / Walkin' out in the California night". I believe this is a more surface-level vibe-setting song, considering where Mike ended in S4. It may also imply that the start of S5 begins where S4 left off. A lot of car imagery is also present throughout, which was a big part of Mike's S4 journey.

There are ideas of being separated as well, with lyrics like "My heart won't beat / 'Til we meet again together". This may allude to Mike's feelings towards the end of S4, having been separated from Hawkins/his family.

2. What You're Doing - Remastered 2009

Genius.com claims this song was written about Paul McCartney's then-rocky relationship at the time. The lyrics make this very clear, so there's really no alternate angle from which I can read. Let me know in the comments if you interpreted it differently.

In specific, the lyrics "You got me running / And there's no fun in it / Why should it be so much to ask of you / What you're doing to me?", "Please stop your lying / You got me crying, girl", and "I've been waiting here for you / Wondering what you're gonna do / And should you need a love that's true / It's me" really intrigue me. This could refer to Mike's relationship.

The song suggests that the partner may be withdrawing in multiple ways, with the singer grieving over it and attempting to prove their love. El may be starting to distance herself, and Mike could be struggling with it. At the end of S4, El was understandably focused on her failure, to the point where she hadn't really spoken to Mike in the days following it.

I don't think it would be surprising if everything was too much and she ends up pushing herself away from him. I wouldn't say it's implying a break-up, but maybe distancing issues.

3. After The Earthquake

Again, it's pretty surface-level in the beginning. There was a devastating earthquake in-universe, which supports the theory that "STurn" connects to ST5 in some way. The song tells a story, though, and I recommend looking up it's inspiration.

Despite the choice seeming surface-level at first, After The Earthquake may be implying more for Mike in ST5. Genius.com's contributors interpret the song's narrative as, "[Molly Rankin applying the] concept of post-catastrophe clarity to a couple that got into a major disagreement before one of them falls into a coma from a car crash... In a metaphorical sense, [the song] could describe a more mild situation in which Rankin must put their conflict on hold because something more important turns up." I don't think it's too far-fetched to say that Finn picked up on this. The idea of a disagreeing couple and coma is also prevalent in ST, but like I said in the beginning, I'm going to try to connect these songs to Mike Wheeler specifically.

Although this may be me reading too deeply into it, the metaphorical meaning of the track pairs pretty well with the implications of What You're Doing. It also fits in well narratively, considering that more important things are happening aside from the drama -- the earthquake being one of them. Mike could be putting all of his current issues (internal-conflict-related, relationship, or otherwise) on hold for the moment. He continues to struggle with suppressing his problems later on in the playlist, as well.

4. Promises I've Made

This song is about mourning a lost or ex-lover. The opening lyrics, "Ever since you have gone, the days don't seem so bright / And I wish I could forget you but I can't / Ever since you have gone, I haven't felt quite right / And I promised I'd forget all that you meant" address this quite directly.

At this point, it's possible that Mike has either been broken up with or the pair have gone their separate ways for some reason. It wouldn't be too crazy to say something like that will occur and he'll grieve it, keeping in mind that one of Mike's main fears is losing El. I just don't know why they'd continue to make it the subject of conflict in S5 (unless it hasn't been fully resolved yet.)

Physical distance between the two also makes sense when considering that Mike is, supposedly, teaming up with other characters next season. Personally, I'm leaning slightly more towards a break-up because of what the previous songs have set up, but, ultimately, it's up to interpretation. It's possible they've just been physically distanced while in a bad spot.

5. Angst In My Pants

This song is about a person attempting to be someone they're not, suppressing who they really are, and it ultimately leading to dissatisfaction. The lyrics, "You can dress nautical / Learn to tie knots / Take lots of Dramamine / Out on your yacht" describe a faux lifestyle one lives that only serves to hurt them in the end: The idea of putting on a self-harming persona. This could be what Mike is going through in S5, and his teased wardrobe change from S4 supports this.

The lyrics, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go away / It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" and, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go 'way / Give it a hundred years / It won't go 'way" are particularly fascinating and can have multiple interpretations.

For one, it could be Mike trying to hide his real personality following Eddie's death and the collective panic by acting out a more "normal" and "idealized" life -- painfully repressing his true self in the process. This is supported by the lyrics I first discussed. Hiding and embracing differences is a theme in Stranger Things, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is where they take Mike in S5.

Another interpretation involves the previous lyrics, as well as, "But when you think you made it disappear / It comes again, 'Hello, I'm here'". This sounds more like someone trying and failing to suppress a thought. Coupled with "It's just a passing phase", it appears to be a feeling or belief instead of someone's true personality, although I do believe that's a big part of it, too.

Whatever it may be, Mike is definitely struggling with something at this point. He's pushing it down, hiding it, and hoping "..it doesn't show" and that "It'll go away".

6. The Better Side - Audiotree Live Version

Half way through! This one gave me more of a challenge because there aren't any written lyrics to analyze. From what I can gather, the track is about a person yearning for someone who is a better fit(?) The lyrics that best support this interpretation are, "You're on the better side / You're always the better one for me" and "Don't make me do the falling when I'm drinking of you". Again, if you have any alternate interpretations, please let me know. I'd like to take all ideas into account.

The final lyrics are interesting, "And you're all that I need / I'm not gonna miss you anymore". This can be read as the narrator longing to accept a person into their life and bring them closer. I'm especially interested in the final line because it implies there was something to miss, as if an emotional rift or gap was there.

Mike has come to a realization about something, as shown in Angst In My Pants, and it might partly be about a new thought he's trying to push down, "It'll go away". It's possible the "thought" is about newly developing feelings he isn't ready to accept(?) I don't want to say for certain, though. Nonetheless, it seems like he recognizes this person's importance and "better fit" for him, despite trying to repress it. A fairly surface-level read, but it's the only conclusion I'm able to come to.

Alternatively, it might be about El. The distance apart could be what gets him to solidify how he feels about her. However, Angst In My Pants and multiple songs establishing a separation precede The Better Side. The track is about a better option, as well. Those facts alone make me think of this interpretation as unlikely, so it's not one I personally hold.

7. Don't Ask Me to Explain

Don't Ask Me to Explain is about two people who are afraid to confess their true feelings to one another, so instead they hide them; with one of the two seemingly more uncertain. It's also, from what I've researched, supposedly about two people of the same gender. There's a possibility that this is irrelevant to the track's purpose in the playlist, but I kept it in mind considering the other songs and my personal interpretation. It's also important to note that these "true feelings" could be about a multitude of things.

The lyrics, "How will I ever know you enough to love you / If you're hiding who you are?", "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?", and, "Besides, I don't want to be the one who's coming out first / I'd really like to but I'm just too shy" support this reading.

I interpreted the last line, "It's so easy to laugh to myself / And pretend that I could love you but I can't" in two different ways. Either it's the narrator doubting their feelings for someone else, or it's the narrator recognizing that they can't let themselves embrace their love for someone, for one reason or another.

As for Mike, his progression makes the most sense to me in the following interpretation. There are multiple and, again, please let me know your ideas in the comments. I narrowed it down to just the one so I don't start nit-picking.

Mike went from a realization, "It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" (Angst In My Pants) to a sort of acceptance, "You're always the better one for me" (The Better Side) to struggling to admit it out loud, "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?"

An LGBTQ+ or "new love interest" interpretation is what I'm able to gather from this. It could describe Mike falling for 'someone' and not knowing how to be open about it due to fear and doubt; with the other person feeling the same way. It may be a surface-level reading, and I'm sure there are several other ways to interpret the track, but that's what I've been able to conclude thus far.

8. What Do You Want Me To Do?

This one might be the most difficult for me to figure out, but I'm going to try.

The song and the lyrics, "You walked out, took your chance / You turned your back on our romance / You said you found somebody new / You said the change'd do you good" and "You never even gave me a thought / You figured that would be all right / I nevеr had a chance to persuade you / You nеver let me put up a fight" remind me a lot of What You're Doing.

One way to look at it is that it might have the same purpose as What You're Doing -- adding a sort of angsty frustration vibe. I don't know if it would be used to set up a "come crawling back" moment because I don't think that would make sense (especially in Stranger Things), but it's a random possibility I'm throwing out there.

Alternatively, the 'person' that Mike has feelings for could have rejected him for someone else(?) Again, I don't think this would make much narrative sense in Stranger Things, but we don't know what the next season's going to look like.

I'm personally reading it as the former because there are other songs in the playlist used to set the tone. Keeping What You're Doing and Promises I've Made in mind, an additional break-up song is on theme. There's still the possibility of another conflict, though. If anyone else has different thoughts on what the song could be implying, I'd appreciate the input.

9. Substitute - Live

This track is about an idealized version of someone being put in place of their true self. The narrator describes a scenario in which their partner sees a version of them, "I'm a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look bloody young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah", that is unrealistic and put on, as seen in the lyrics "Substitute your lies for fact / I see right through your plastic mac / I look all white, but my dad was black / My fine-looking suit is really made out of sack" The couple also seem to be having issues with this, or in general, that they're not addressing, "It's a genuine problem, you won't try / To work it out at all, just pass it by, pass it by"

The concept of a guise applies well to Mike, as referenced in Angst In My Pants. A recurring theme of hiding oneself really makes me think Mike is going to completely abandon his interests for a different lifestyle. I believe Finn has also mentioned that Mike wants to be as "normal" as possible, so I can't wait to see where they take that idea. It could also be him realizing how he's been acting, and admitting that this "romanticized" version isn't true to him. I have hope that Mike will eventually learn to embrace his differences and what he enjoys.

While this part is a bit nit-picky, I feel it's fun to mention that the song was inspired by a lyric in The Tracks of My Tears by Smokey Robinson; the lyric being, "Although she may be cute / She's just a substitute". The line following this (which is also referenced in Substitute's Genius.com entry) is, "Because you're the permanent one". Funnily enough, these lyrics also fit into the narrative the playlist is laying out. They remind me a lot of what The Better Side represents.

Out of context, the lines from The Tracks of My Tears may imply that someone is either using another person as a substitute for an ex, or that someone is realizing they've been using their previous partner as a substitute for someone better. Both routes have the potential to happen in ST5. Although, I don't know if the idea of a literal substitute fits with what The Who was going for. The Tracks of My Tears is also not on "STurn", so take this part as a fun fact with a grain of salt on the side.

At the end of the day, we don't know Finn's motivation for adding Substitute, so this is what we'll have to go off of for now. I feel as though the former interpretation, a less literal "substitute," holds the most merit considering the theme of personas.

10. The Rebel Kind

Like The Better Side, I couldn't find any lyrics, so I'm doing it by ear. Though, I'm happy to say that this song is about a desire to embrace differences and rebellion. "We'll be free to run with the rebel kind" and "It's not easy, but I don't mind / I just want to run with the rebel kind" establish that. The track appears to tie into Mike's insecurity struggles throughout the playlist.

The lyric "They call us the rebel kind" hints to the panic brewing at the end of S4. Mike might start to embrace and stand behind his true self at whatever point this is in the season. The line following, "But they don't understand / The things a man must do to prove that he's a man", can be taken in different ways depending on how the lyrics are read.

It could be the narrator's struggle to keep up with societal norms before finally giving in to their truth instead of trying to conform, read as "they call us rebels but don't get how hard it is to for us to keep up." On the other hand, it could be the narrator commenting on how society doesn't understand people like them, and, by embracing their true self, it proves more about who they are than conforming ever would; read as, "you think we're the rebellious ones, but you don't understand that we're more self-secure and strong than you'll ever be."

I can see both of these interpretations working for Mike and his connection to the Party. The progression of insecurity in Angst In My Pants and potential realization of this guise in Substitute is wrapped up by Mike's self-acceptance here. I really hope this is how it plays out in S5.

11. Block Rockin' Beats

There's not much to analyze because this track has one repeated line of lyrics, but it's definitely here to set a tone. The song may have a similar vibe-setting purpose as What Do You Want Me To Do? and Ballad of the Texas King. That's just my theory, though. (A ST5 theoryyy!)

Perhaps this is a climax of sorts where the cast fight the "big bad." The music's tone is intense and sort of aggressive. It's definitely a fun addition to the playlist, whatever the song's purpose in it may be.

12. Just What I Needed

Finally, we have Just What I Needed. I read this song in two different ways.

The first way I interpreted it was as a love song about the narrator not caring about who this person is, and realizing they need them in spite of it all. The lyrics, "It's not the perfume that you wear / It's not the ribbons in your hair / And I don't mind you comin' here / And wastin' all my time", "Cause when you're standin' oh so near / I kinda lose my mind, yeah", and "I needed someone to bleed / Yeah, yeah, so bleed me" support this.

The second possible reading is that the narrator realizes they were/are in a codependent relationship and they still love the person. The lyrics, "I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to feed / I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to bleed" and "I don't mind you hangin' out / And talkin' in your sleep / It doesn't matter where you've been / As long as it was deep, yeah", could be read as more of a "you're what I needed at the time, but I still love you and want you in my life." With this reading, it's unclear whether or not the love is romantic or platonic. Maybe I'm looking too far into it, but this is what some Genius.com contributors brought up, and it would feel wrong to not include this understanding of the song.

I'm just assuming, since The Rebel Kind seemed to tie up Mike's self-security problem, that this track is supposed to imply a resolution with his romantic issues. Under that impression, there are a few ways we can look at it.

It could be an acceptance for who he has feelings for. He went from mourning a loss in Promises I've Made, noticing something and hoping it goes away in Angst In My Pants, potentially coming to terms with the fact that this person is his "better" choice in The Better Side, wanting to admit a truth but feeling doubtful in Don't Ask Me to Explain, comprehending that he's able to embrace his authentic self in The Rebel Kind, to now admitting, possibly out loud, that this person was "just what [he] needed". That could be far-fetched, but it's just what I picked up on throughout the playlist.

However, it may also pertain to his self-identity struggle that's hinted at throughout (can you tell that I love this part of Mike?) while also tying into his romance issues. He went through a difficult separation with someone in What You're Doing and Promises I've Made, put on a persona and suppressed his true self in Angst In My Pants, realized he couldn't keep it going and needed to address it in Substitute, embraced himself in The Rebel Kind, and now recognizes that the relationship may have been codependent and holding him back from fully dropping the facade: "I guess you're just what I needed" -- in the moment. I don't know if that's too in-depth of a read, but it's a possibility.

While not relevant to the playlist in it's context, it's fun to bring up the fact that Just What I Needed was apparently also the final track listed on the 'official' "Will's Castle Byers Classics" playlist created by Spotify. It's not available anymore, so I can't really say it as a fact. Although, recreations of the playlist have been made long before "STurn" was a thing, and the song was added as the last track as far back as 2018. I suppose that's proof enough that it was at least on the playlist.

Finn listing it as the final track may be a reference to "Will's Castle Byers Classics", but it's also likely that there's no association. That's why I gave the song an equal amount of analysis instead of writing it off as a reference. As to how canon those playlists are, I don't think it particularly matters. It's true that Finn could've seen Just What I Needed in the Will playlist and put it on "STurn", thinking of it as a fun easter egg. There could or could not be implications for that and I'd be remiss to ignore it. I don't know if this rings true for any of the other songs on "STurn" as well -- if they're connected to any other character playlists. Feel free to let me know if they are!

TL;DR

This was really hefty post, and I apologize for that, so here's a summary/recap of what I think S5 may have in store for Mike Wheeler.

Summary:

The season likely starts off at the end of S4, with us seeing Mike react to everything that's happened in Hawkins and reuniting with his family. Tension or unresolved conflicts may be arising in his relationship(s) as well, but he puts it aside to focus on the more important tasks at hand. Either his relationship is put aside with this, or there's an eventual separation that occurs, and he mourns it. After, he tries to maintain normalcy and puts on a guise to appease others. During this time, he may start to have a realization about something that he attempts to repress. He eventually comes to terms with it, though, recognizing that there's someone (maybe something?) better for him. He wants to admit to these true feelings, but he'll struggle with hiding, doubting, and fearing them; thinking he can't allow himself to fully love this person or, at least, admit to whatever feelings or "truth" he possesses. Mike will most likely continue to struggle with mixed feelings and hiding his true personality after this, eventually admitting to not being fully authentic. He'll then accept his true self for what it is. This will lead into a climax, where the main conflict of the show will be resolved. Finally, he'll accept and admit his true feelings, realizing that all he needed to do in the end was be entirely honest with (and about) himself.

In Conclusion

I really want this to be where they take Mike in ST5. It would be such a satisfying thing to watch, especially with how he's acted the past two seasons. I think he deserves to have a self-love/acceptance arc because the show has made it clear he's insecure and inauthentic.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts and interpretations in the comments, as well as if there's anything you think I should add/fix. I'd love to hear what others have to say about "STurn" and it's connections to ST :)!

[fandomwritingbit]

Too good to be true

william afton x (fem) police reader

synopsis: A two part series about William destroying your life.

It's your first homicide case as a detective, a young child murdered with no tangible leads and you're eager to bring the evil bastard to justice. It's a lot of pressure though, and to much weight on your shoulders leads to questionable decision making.

warnings: child murder, smut, swearing, drinking, domestic arguing/marital problems. just generally mature themes.

A/n: As always this isn't steeped in fnaf lore, just purely from my silly little brain. I'm so glad to finally have this out and be back on here to obsess over men. Hope you like it Xx

“It’s okay, take your time.”

The social worker smiled kindly, hoping that the pleasant expression would hide how her heart was breaking at the words leaving this child’s mouth. It’s harrowing to hear, the topic of death should never be exposed to kids this young, at least not in the cruel fashion it had been mere hours ago. “We can take a break if you want, get a snack?” 

The little lad shakes his head, at only seven years old he knows it’s better to get the story over with. Never before had so many adults been so interested in what he has to say, this is serious. Even if he doesn’t understand what happened, he does understand the finality of it. The scary, definitive nature of what’s happened. He’ll never see his friend again. “Can I have some juice?” The boy asks quietly, his voice the epitome of innocence. It makes the social worker’s eyes sting. The lead officer smiles wryly. 

“Sure you can, Josh. Shall I go?” The lady switches her attention from the child to the pair of cops sitting across from them. 

“No, I’ll go.” You interject, not wanting you and your superior left alone with the weight of this child’s emotions. He hasn’t cried, but you can see the tears brimming beneath his surface. You look Josh in the face and try to speak as kindly as his companion, “Do you like orange?”

He just nods. 

…

The room was heavy in silence during your brief absence, you were only gone a couple of minutes, the vast majority of the time spent in thought over the canteen sink. You were promoted to detective only a year ago and so far the cases you’ve been assigned were of little intensity, drunken brawling, verbal domestics, thefts and robberies. And now a child was dead, murdered, and it has utterly devastated the community. But as upsetting as it is, this is an opportunity for career growth, even if you already feel out of your depth. 

The crime scene was brutal, the child laid in the outside storage of a restaurant, face down, multiple stab wounds. Blood smeared on the ground that your splatter analyst said horrifyingly suggests that the child dragged themselves closer to the door, only stopping when they no longer had the strength to continue. No murder weapon. There are no obvious suspects, every man and his dog within a 2 mile radius was pulled in for questioning. But the lack of witnesses and the hole in the chain fence leading to the area was a hindrance. The only lead you have is Josh because, unfortunately, he found the body. 

You bring the child his drink, handing it to him before sitting down next to the lead officer, mentally steeling yourself for questioning.

“So, Josh.” Your colleague begins, talking to children doesn’t come naturally to him, but you see him trying. “I asked you, what time did you last see the vict- Mary?” He corrects himself, but all three of you know what he was going to say. 

 “I’m not sure.” He answers in a tiny voice. 

He goes to ask again, sitting forward, but you stop him, cutting in to ask the boy in a different way. “I know you all sang happy birthday to the birthday boy at around half twelve. Did Mary get a slice of cake?” The social worker puts her hand on the little lad’s shoulder, whilst he thinks. 

After a moment, he says, “No. Auntie Carol asked if she wanted one but she wasn’t there.” 

“Okay, thank you.” You smile, before turning to the other officer, talking quietly, “Coroner said T.O.D was between 12:00 and 13:00.” 

He agrees, “So it’s looking closer to twelve.” 

~

There was a group of people waiting outside to be questioned, parents, staff, everyone who may have a shred of information and your precinct was struggling to manage it. The deceased’s parents have already been spoken to and ruled out, and so, in the main interview room another detective set about tackling the restaurant’s staff. 

“Mr Afton, we just have a few more questions to go over.” The middle-aged policeman lifts his gaze from his documents to look at the restaurant owner over the top of his glasses. He sees the businessman nod in response. There’s nothing to implicate this fella, no motive, no evidence, but he has a previous so caution was to be taken. 

With the question ready on his tongue, the officer sits back in the chair. “How often do people go out to the outside storage?”

He meets the man’s eyes, it’s not the first time he’s been under police scrutiny, probably won’t be the last, but the gravity of this investigation is severe. Not wanting to play any games he just divulges what the cop wants to know. “Frequently, we keep ingredients out there, and other supplies, people are always in and out.” 

“Even though it’s a fire escape?” There’s doubt in his face. 

William Afton reveals a small smile then, he can’t quite figure out what the copper is getting at, “Yeah, there’s a cinder block out there to keep it open. I disconnected the alarm a long time ago.”  

The policeman writes that down, it may go over the interviewee’s head but it’s an important question. The killer had to access the area somehow. And either they knew of the fire door and its cinder block or the gap in the fence. A crime of opportunity, from someone who knows the area well, that’s the takeaway. 

Looking up from the sheet, the DI asks another question, “And I understand that you and your partner are more handsoff with the day to day, but were you there at the party?”

“I oversaw arrival and seating.” Afton halts but the detective says nothing, it’s clearly unsatisfactory. “... There were two more kids than discussed, it caused some tension. I left Henry to deal with things.” He elaborates dryly, the tone indicates boredom but that’s to be expected after having waited hours for this conversation. 

“Tension?” The officer asks curiously, his eyebrows raised in a most provoking way.

William remembers to keep himself professional, maybe he could have worded that better. He tries again, “Well, it wasn’t ideal. Waiters had to set extra places and find more chairs. It was a fuss.” 

That seems to resonate better with the detective because he nods, some understanding written in his expression, Afton has to stifle the satisfaction that gives him. 

The copper consults his papers again before deciding he’s gotten enough, he stands, taking his glasses off and letting them hang on the chain around his neck. “Right, I’ll let you get back home. We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch.” 

With a tight-lipped smile, William follows suit, pushing the chair back and standing. An old impulse to stick his hands out for the cuffs being greatly fought, it was a different time, different station, different crime, but the same old William.

He shakes the detective’s hand, the standing difference of the two is almost comical but neither of them show any signs of amusement. He’s led out the cold interrogation room into the life of the precinct corridor, there’s a lot going on, a mix of uniformed and non officers and some of his staff still awaiting questioning. 

But before the policeman can get away, William let’s some curiosity free of its constraints. “Have you spoken to Henry yet?” The man meets his eyes, no longer as stoic as he was during the interview, the burden of inquisition must be a heavy one. 

“No. I’ll be handling staff enquiries. Your partner should be in later on. 4 o’clock I think.” William nods, and the officer now no longer concerned with him, heads off down the hallway. He should do the same, he’ll have to sign out, he remembers that from last time too. 

As he’s walking back towards reception, a door opens in front of him, a flash of cream walls and a green sofa, before a woman exists holding the hand of a small child that he recognises. He stands aside to let them pass, watching a male officer leave, followed by a female one: you. 

You hear the social worker's voice grow quieter as they leave you to lock the door, your keys jangling as you turn the stiff lock. Your mind is so engrossed in theories, you’re wanting to talk to DI Donnelly about the staff profiling and see if anything has come up in the way of a suspect. You’re so engrossed that you don’t think to look behind you before moving. 

The very moment you step out you collide with the hardness of a human body much bigger than yours. You stumble from the surprise of it, and large hands catch your waist to stop you tripping. It’s a very intimate way to touch someone and you gasp from the suddenness.

“Ay watch it, lady cop.” The bloke says, when you turn to see who you’ve just accosted, you see an older man with perhaps the most handsome crooked grin you’ve ever seen. 

Choosing to ignore the casual sexism of that you go for a, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

Cos you weren’t looking, he thinks to himself but doesn’t say anything aloud, you do look sorry and you’re cute. For a rozzer.  

“You’re alright.” He excuses you, raising his eyebrows. 

The only other thing exchanged was a mutual nod of regard before the man walked away towards the exit, leaving you to wonder what role he must play in all of this. 

~

William drives home without the radio, lost in a deep track of convoluted thought. He’ll reach out to Henry later, see if anything’s changed. He doesn't think it will, despite the taskforce on this case he thinks it’ll go cold pretty fast. Children capture the news interest every now and then but once the media has no evidence or case progress to get its hooks into, the case is dead in the water. Unless the parents have the money to keep pushing it.

He pulls outside his house, turning the engine off but not leaving immediately. He’s about to step into the circus here, no doubt his wife has been waiting in bated breath, anxious for any news. He sighs, he probably should have drove around a bit longer knowing she was holding her breath, maybe he’d have got lucky. 

He drags his feet on the mat before stepping inside, he hasn’t been outside today but it’s force of habit at this point, then he chucks his jacket towards the hook and closes the door. Sighing again, he sits on the second step to take his shoes off, already on edge at how quiet this fucking house is. She emerges as he reaches for the other shoe, arms folded over her chest like she’s already disapproving of something. 

“So? What happened?” Clara’s tone is brisk and strained thin. It sounds like she’s been crying, though he can’t imagine why when it’s him that has to face the bobbies. 

He scoffs, “They asked me some questions.” Everything about him is closed right now, and if she knew him at all she’d leave it for a while. 

“And?” She’s pissing him off, she’s too prickly to talk to like this. She’s worried, wants to know what’s going to happen, what is happening, but it’s not his responsibility to console her like some fretful little kid. 

“I answered them.” She scowls, how can he be like this, so indifferent? Like nothing’s happening, making her feel like she’s overreacting or going mad, maybe both. 

“For fuck’s sake, Will.” Her voice cracks with frustration and she pauses a second to regain herself. Immediately losing it once she begins speaking, “Do they know who did it? Do they have someone in custody? Will, when are they going to take the fucking body out of your restaurant?!”

He laughs a little then and stands from the stairs, “Why would I know that? The police will be taking care of that, or the coroners, I don’t fucking know.”

“Don’t know, or don’t care?” There’s tears streaming down his wife’s face and he can’t cope. 

“Does it matter?” He looks particularly harsh right now, a sharpness in his gaze and tone that’s like a razor and again her face twists in disgust. 

William rubs the bridge of his nose, allowing his eyes to close for a moment of respite from the headache only Clara can claw out of him. With a deep breath he bends down and picks up his shoes, moving then to pick up his coat from the floor where it landed. He’s not staying, not with her wound tight as a wire-trap and not in a good way. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet now, trying her hand at reasoning. He’s past that though. 

“Going out, I can’t deal with you now.” He doesn’t even put the shoes back on, just carries them out with him, shutting the door heavily behind him. Leaving her to her. 

~

It’s about to hit 8pm before you leave the station, it's been a long day but you hardly noticed what with how busy you’ve been. Your questioning didn't end with Josh, and even after talking to four other witnesses, you had your paperwork to do, then discussion with your colleagues. Everyone on the case has their own theories but at this point that’s all they are: theories. Nothing concrete and no real inclination into what to press next.

You change before leaving, knowing that you’re too restless to just go home, you need to be alone with your thoughts over a cold drink. So you get in your car picturing the hotel only a few minutes from your flat, the business-y one with the nice bar and the clientele that will leave you alone. That’s your ticket for that cold drink. 

Music plays as you drive there, a CD you’ve made compiling your favourite tunes, it should help take your mind off the horrors you’ve seen today but it doesn’t. You can pull yourself away from the crime scene, that poor child in the centre of it, nor the distant look in young Josh’s eyes. No matter how much you enjoy the song playing, it's just not enough to distract you. 

You park easy enough, a weekday night means that the car park isn’t completely full so you manage to get close to the entrance. Which you’re glad of when the moment your car door opens specks of rain tap your skin. Looks like the weather’s about as miserable as you feel. 

The hotel bar is all dark furniture and yellow lights, a soft, warm and dark oasis and you feel relief to step inside. It’s a swish bar, not the kind of place to get a pint, even if that’s what you’re craving, it’s a nice glass with a hefty price bar. And so as you approach the bartender you’re thinking of what you want.

There’s only a few stools at the bar, seven or eight at a glance, and they’re mostly full. A gap between two gentlemen both very focused on their drinks, but you don’t want to get chatted up right now, especially from either side. At the otherside there’s two empty ones but one has a jacket laid over it and a drink on the counter. But needs must. 

You sit, taking your coat off and laying it over your legs, smiling politely at the bartender. 

…

“There you are.” The barman reappears in front of you, setting your drink down on the counter, “That’ll be £3.30, please.” 

You scoff a little at that, mentally complaining about how the world’s gone mad with these prices, but you obediently reach into your bag for your wallet, a five pound note soon between your fingers. 

“Thank you.” Your hand is raised for your change, you’ll tip later, at this point you don’t know how many drinks you’ll be having. 

As the barman is digging around the till for your change the occupier of the seat beside you returns, neglecting to pick up his jacket in favour of sitting on it. You blank the man, receiving your change with a “Cheers,” for the bloke. 

You sip the drink through the little straw, it’s nice to be fair and just what you need after today. You’re ready to forget about it, but you’re becoming increasingly aware of the figure next to you looking at you, and any kind of scrutiny is too much right now. So you turn to it, and you recognise the man immediately. 

The man you’d bumped into earlier, who you’d since found out a lot about from his interviewer.

“Well, if it isn’t the lady copper. What are the chances of that?” There’s a casualness to his tone and posture that suggests he’s perhaps nearing the point of one drink too many. That’s what prevents your usual curt response of ‘just copper is fine’.

You don't smile, don't show any signs of the polite mannerisms he’d expect, just look at him objectively and he can tell you’re analysing the shit out of him. “Oh I remember you.” You start plainly, wanting to get back to the solitude you came here for. “By which I mean, I have since found out who you are.” It’s designed to be standoffish, encourage him to keep to himself, and play to what you learned about the man from his record: he shouldn’t like the police. 

It doesn’t work though, the glasses of whiskey he's had tonight make the very blunt and sober way you’re talking to him more than amusing. And it shows on his face, “Ah someone’s been through some files.” The ways he’s grinning irks you, but if this was any other day in any other place you’d be swivelling yourself around to talk properly to the attractive man beside you. “Bumped into me and had to find out more, I get it.” 

Your expression remains stern, he must be drunk as a lord or at least confident as one to say that. “I recognised your… photograph; the man who walked into me and called me ‘lady cop’.” He owns the restaurant the victim was murdered in, he’s a key figure in this case, you shouldn’t really be talking to him at all, let alone in a bar. But your drink was expensive and you’re not going to fucking leave it. “William Afton.” You say his name offhandedly, no feeling on it, but he still likes how pretty it sounds off your tongue. 

“You can say mugshot, darling, I’m aware I have one.” He snickers at the look on your face, you were trying to preserve him some dignity in your wording, so much for that. The bloke sticks out his hand for you, “Just William will do it.” 

You take his hand before your mind can overcome your manners, introducing yourself as, “DC L/n.” He has a firm handshake, much more respectable than the bitten down nails on his larger than most hands. Then again, he’s a larger than most fella, sat next to you now his feet are completely rested on the floor, whereas yours are tucked neatly on the bar of the stool. 

He chuckles at the formality, fucking Detective Constable, you really aren’t budging off your high horse, are you? Normally he’d give up on someone being this clearly closed off with him, but not tonight. He’s starved of the chatter and drink has alway made him want to make new friends, especially when they're as cute and grumpy as you. You need cheering up, and he needs the challenge.

“We’re not at the station now, love. What’s your name?” He watches the frown on your face grow that little bit stronger and has to hide the smirk on his face behind the rim of his drink. 

“It’s definitely not ‘love’.” Your voice is firm and you let the silence that follows it sit for a few seconds. But then you consider who you’re doing this for. It’s not yourself, you don’t want to be rude to anyone, let alone a tipsy person who probably doesn't know how annoying he’s being. You’re not doing it for work, there’s no boss here to remind you of your conduct, there’s been no suggestion of his involvement, even with the previous convictions. So why not take your mind off things with some meaningless conversation?

You sigh, then tell him your first name.  

“So… is this your regular?” You ask the cliche question in some effort to force yourself into normality, thinking about any other way to ask him if he comes here often, hoping he won't catch on to how his answer might impact if you come back here again. 

His eyes narrow at the change in your manner, but he goes along with it, “No. No, I’m just taking a break from domestic bliss.” The words are sarcastic enough that you gather their meaning easily, unhappy at home, coming out to get away from it, it’s fair enough. You nod, mentally clocking the silver band on his left hand and chiding yourself instantly. That’s not the kind of distraction you came here for. 

“And what has you here?” He can take a guess, a long, bloody day at work, sufficient to make most people thirsty, but curiosity nips at him, he wants to know how senior you are, what your role in the whole shitshow is. More than that he wants to know what’s come of the police’s incessant questioning, and what ammo they have.

An incredulous laugh leaves you, “Just the joy of work, you know. A lot of difficult things to think about- I already know I’ll never sleep tonight.” You’re only half joking, even with a few more g&ts you don’t see yourself getting any rest. 

You sip your drink, realising all of a sudden that you’re not far from needing another. And as you pull the glass away the man beside you says, “Oh, I could help you with that.” 

Turning to him straight away, you’re practically scowling. What a thing to fucking say. 

At your disdainful expression he adds, through a wicked smirk, “Night nurse- you know the little bottle? That usually sorts me out.” All his suggestiveness dropped, and now you look silly for overreacting. 

“Aren’t you funny.” Despite the palpable sarcasm on the words you are smiling, just a little, you can’t help it, your facade draining faster than your gin. You swirl the liquid around, thinking over your words before you say them, you know better than the harmlessness of this, even if you wish you didn’t. “You’re being awfully chummy with me and I’m not sure why. I can’t and won’t tell you about the case.” 

You try to hold back the sharp edge of those words but even said nicely they’re cutting. 

It doesn't faze him though, and he leans a little closer like he’s jokingly telling you a secret. “I’m half-cut, lovely. I’d be chummy with anyone sat here, especially if they need cheering up as much as you do.”

You let your expression soften a bit, there’s a relief from what he said that there shouldn’t be. “Based on your file, I’d have thought you’d sooner switch seats than sit next to me.” You smirk as you speak, teasing but it’s based in truth. 

“Oh calm down.” He’s shaking his head at you, “I’ve nowt against the police, it’s only a job. Until today I hadn’t seen the inside of a police station for going on 20 years. It sounds like you’re the one with prejudices.” He’s openly mocking you now, and you can see why, but he can say what he likes, it doesn’t change what you read. 

The officer’s scrawl was plain to see: ‘Fucking filth’ he said to PC Markham, right before headbutting him, adding assault of an officer to his other charges. 

“You don’t think people can change then?” He asks, more seriously than anything else he’s said tonight. 

You think about it, going over both sides of the argument in your head whilst he waits expectantly. You arrive at, “I think… If they want it enough, then yeah.”  

He shrugs then, back to wearing a striking grin, “Well, don’t worry then. I’m good at getting what I want.”

Yeah, I’ll bet you are, you think, trying to hide the thought from your face. Opting to only say, “You’re insufferable.” under your breath.

“No, just drunk. I think I need a water.” There’s a new self-deprecation to his tone and it amuses you. WIlliam glances at your empty glass and already knows you’ll be having another. He likes this back and forth, it’s good fun, much more entertaining than the chat he’d be having at home right now. 

He leans forward a bit to catch the bartender's attention, “Will you get us another one of these and a water, thanks mate.” He slides your glass forward for the man to see and he nods, going about the order. 

“Oh, you were serious.” You say, partially to yourself, it’s hard to tell with this man. That’s probably the trouble.

He sits back, “Yeah, I’ll have to keep myself sharp if you’re sitting with me, sweetheart.” 

You grin, yeah there’s the fucking trouble. 

~

You don’t know how another drink turned into three. And how three turned into you watching him get a hotel room, his elbows on the desk as he talks to the receptionist. And how that turned into keys in his pocket, the two of you getting in a lift. And then your hands pulling on his shirt to get him close enough you can kiss him, his tall frame pressing you against the wall of the lift. 

You don’t think about how stupid this is as you’re doing it, you’re too distracted by the heat of him and the all encompassing way his tongue is in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, knuckles taunt with his shirt fabric balled up in them. You’re not drunk, you know what you’re doing. The alcohol isn’t affecting your judgement, it’s only making your blood warm and helping stoke the heat flickering in your core.

He doesn’t hesitate in touching you, neither of you worried about discovery, hands on your hips soon sliding low and squeezing your arse. You gasp a little as his touch brings you to your tippy-toes. The kiss is broken and has your lips tracing down his jaw, on his neck then shamelessly sucking his earlobe. You can feel how much he likes that digging into your stomach and your body rings with want. 

His hands are under your shirt before the lift stops, doors opening to reveal a man waiting, a suitcase by his side. You push the man off you, struggling not to laugh, especially when a quick glance reveals that William is. Hot in the face, you right yourself as the man drags his case into the small space, your skirt pulled back down and shirt buttoned back up.

“Uh we’re still going up, mate.” William says, snickering. 

“Only one floor.” The man responds bluntly, clearly not wanting any interaction with the two degenerates he’s just uncovered. 

You share a look with William, that has you pressing your lips together to stifle laughter. He looks very dishevelled, you hand’t noticed quite how hard you’d been going at him, his shirt is creased and his hair is a fucking mess. God knows what you look like. 

It seems to take a long time to go up one floor, but the very second the doors open you and William are quick to leave. 

“What a nice chap.” He sniggers and you can finally laugh away some of that embarrassment, how stupid the both of you are, but nothing to be done now. The only compromise you can make now is to keep your hands to yourself until you’re in a more private setting, but that’s easier said than done when your core is tight with need. 

Following his form, you try to take mental note of how to get out of here, so many beige corridors to wind around before you’re standing in front of the room this near stranger has purchased. You watch him put the key in the lock and for just a moment you listen to your mind. It’s not a good idea, it’s unprofessional, inappropriate and a host of other things but you’re warm between your legs and the want to continue what was interrupted outweighs reason. 

He lets you inside before him and you turn to catch his eyes low on your body, making you grin unwillingly. It’s a nice room, as swanky as the bar downstairs, long flowy curtains shrouding huge windows and a load more pillows on the bed than necessary. 

William looks around the room more pragmatically, he wants another drink and there’s got to be something in here, a fancy place like this always has opportunity to spend more money. There’s an odd cabinet a good distance from the foot of the bed, and when he opens it lo and behold an incognito fridge. “You want another drink?” 

You look over to William on his knees looking at what you quickly realise is a minibar, curiosity brings you closer and the prices make you wince. You don’t know how this man has it in him to drink, you’re tipsy enough just standing there. “You trying to impress me or something?” You say laughing, “Surely the room was pricey enough.”

He shrugs and gets to his feet. A black labelled bottle placed on the counter, he can’t decide what he wants to indulge in first because you are looking very tempting.  You see a look of mischief pass over his face before he says, “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound… which you absolutely are, love.” He delivers that with the smarmiest smirk you’ve ever seen, and a disbelieving laugh escapes you, it’s needlessly full-on but embarrassingly it does work in making heat between your legs flicker back bright. 

Still somewhat taken aback you just say, “...You’re shameless.” 

It just makes him chuckle, as the evenings gone on you’ve only gotten easier to fluster. “Oh and you’re so prim and proper?” That’s clearly amused him because his tone is dripping with sarcasm. You maintain your eye contact with the man, trying to curb excitement in your blood, you’re aware he’s gotten much closer to you and the prospect is delicious. “I don’t think so, no with how you accosted me in that lift, there for anyone to see.” 

He doesn’t need to add ‘And someone did see,’ because that grimy feeling has again caught up with you, you look away then, trying not to think about how disgusted that man looked earlier. It sucks because your usual level-headedness has shagged off and you seem to be making a lot of questionable decisions. 

You’re speaking before the embarrassed thoughts are coherent, “Well, I- That’s not something I’d… normally…” You trail off because of the clear enjoyment on his face.

“Come on, are you a police officer or a fucking nun?” He teases, “Looking so ashamed. You do know what we’ve come up here to do, right?” 

The mockery gives you a hit of bravery, and you shrug, “Yeah. I’m just waiting for you to stop talking.” You give the last words heavy exasperation and watch that achingly handsome grin slowly spread on his face. 

He listens to you. 

It’s criminal how eagerly you’re pulling at his clothes, struggling with buttons as dexterity is lost in your fingers to the way your body is reacting to his. There’s little elegance, only your tongue back in his mouth as your shirt is taken off, then your body pulled away from the wall behind you to let him unhook your bra. It’s quick but you still resent how long it’s taking to get what you want. 

He’s playing with your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh before tugging your hardened nipple between his fingers, it pulls a gasp from you. You’re giggling a little as his action makes it harder to concentrate on what you’re doing. You finally manage to pull the shirt from him, leaving it to crumple on the floor. His body feels good against yours, firm and hot, hair on his chest that you rake your fingers through, leading all the way down to his belt. 

His touch is everywhere on you except where you want it most, taking in your curves and again grabbing a handful of your behind. You’re restless, rubbing your legs together for a fraction of the friction your core is demanding, all this fleeting touch is mounting into impatience. William notices and you feel the movement of his hands up to your waistband, where they skirt teasingly around. 

You moan some encouragement into his mouth, tilting your hips for better access. But he pulls away from you, smirking to himself. “Take your skirt off for me, love. I’ve tried but for the life of me I can’t find the zip.” 

Despite your impatience, you can’t help but laugh, clearly pride had kept him silent for a fair while. “Here then.” You say through your amusement, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushing him lightly, guiding him a pace and a half back until he gets the hint to sit on the bed. 

From there he watches you half dressed as far as your waist as you catch hold of the zip on the side of your pencil skirt and pull it down. You step out of it, leaving your shoes under the fabric, a smug expression on your face. He looks good sitting there and a guilty thought flickers through your head at how lucky his wife is. 

That thought is cut short when he says, “Come here.” Not giving you much choice when he catches your wrist and manoeuvres you himself, your panties still on but the wet patch on them somehow more revealing than you imagine being fully nude will be. 

“Damn.” He grins, leaving you standing before him, his hand tracing the waistband of your knickers before sliding between your legs. You let him, spreading your stance for his access. He follows the shape of your pussy over the material, watching how it clings to your heat. Soon after he slides under the fabric and toys with the abundance of slick waiting there.

You moan at the static sensation buzzing in your core, it’s exactly what you wanted but still a lot and you have to steady yourself on his shoulders. He finds your clit and begins to draw patterns over the nerves that soon have your legs weak. He brings your end into your sights before altering the movement, and the whiplash is near devastating. He snickers when a disapproving frown rests on your face, adjusting his position to press his fingers inside you, willing to give you what you want. Fucking his fingers in and out of you he keeps up with the stimulation on your clit, the pace only quickening when your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your peak rises fast and you fall over it, walls fluttering tight around his digits as your climax washes over you, pulling some desperate noise out of you. 

Before your legs are even steady again, you’re desperate for more. So you push him back on the bed, bending down to tackle his belt buckle. The bulge in his trousers is practically taunting you and you’re eager to feel more and think less. 

WIlliam’s voice pulls you from your inept action. “Demanding, aren’t we?” He mocks. 

You look at him as levelly as you can, your pupils big from your fading pleasure. You know the answer before you speak, “Do you want me to stop?” 

He doesn’t say anything, only reaches down to help you take off the belt, pulling the trousers down and holding you steady so he can lean and shove them off. You take hold of his hardness, now only hidden by his underwear, revelling in the soft grunt that leaves him. He’s deliciously thick in your hands and drunk on it you straddle him, now palming him between your legs. Only now do you think about the condoms in your handbag, knowing you should pull away from him and retrieve them. But that rationale is drowned out by your cunt drooling, begging for immediate stimulation. 

Your touch isn’t enough for him, he just wants to feel your warmth wrapped snug around him, so he acts, flicking your hands aside to free his dick. He sits against your stomach, thick and long and almost instantly you’re sliding your slick along him, pussy twitching in anticipation.

His hand on your hip moves you back so he can line himself up with your hole, no more play, no more teasing. He guides you down, a small gasp leaving you as he presses inside. It’s more than you thought and your walls burn with the stretch of taking him; you still yourself for a moment, thighs hovering just above his whilst you try to get used to the fullness of accommodating him. Your respite is cut short when he starts to thrust up into you, sniggering at the surprised moan that escapes you and how your body is almost trying to run away from him. He holds you still, lost in the perfect way your cunt is swallowing him. Soon you’re taking him properly, riding him deep with stuttering breath, pathetic noises leaving you when his cock pressed against the spot inside you that makes you crumble. You’re so focused on your imminent pleasure sparking into life sharpish, you nearly miss the change in the man below you. 

“Fuck- that’s it.” He groans, his hands roaming your body. You’re doing the majority of the work, bouncing on him so fucking perfectly and grinding your bundle of nerves against him. Your fluttering walls are telling but he’s hanging onto his edge by a thread, just enough sense about him to help speed up your climax. 

You jolt when he suddenly begins rubbing your clit, his hand splayed on your abdomen. It’s a lot and you’re holding on to him tighter and tighter, fingernails digging harder and harder into his shoulders until you’re falling into the waves of bliss. Your back arches as you come, each pulse of your climax making you shiver. Your cunt squeezes around him tight and just like that he’s gone. He thrusts into you a few more times, pushing his release deep inside you,  the pace inconsistent as he rides it out. 

Both of you still, and you listen to his quickened breath as your pussy still flutters around him, you’re all over goosebumps but you hardly notice, too focused on the warmth trickling around him and settling between your legs. 

~

You don’t stop there. You get next to no sleep, spending the rest of the night clutching the headboard, then with your face buried in the dishevelled sheets. Later with your leg hooked over the hips of this man, dirty words dripping from your lips pushing him to give you more. Hours spent having easily some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Until the two of you have no more to give. 

It’s still dark, but a look at your watch tells you the day’s not far from arriving and so, you move. Taking yourself from the disordered bed and into the cool of the room. Your clothes are strewn all over and you begin to gather them one by one, aware you’re under the scrutiny of the man you’re leaving behind. 

You’re halfway through putting them back on when William decides he should probably do the same. You watch from the corner of your eye as he stands up unashamedly naked and even after you’ve had your share you still appreciate the sight, which you then realise he was probably doing to you before getting up.  

He moves to pick up his underwear, wincing through his teeth at the action, making you turn towards him with pinched brows. You see him raise his arm up and run his hand along his shoulders, his expression difficult to read. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask with uncertainty, a part of you thinking that there’s no way he’s as sore as you are, you feel like you’ve spent hours on the bucking broncos. 

“Wait-” He sounds confused but when he turns to walk over to a mirror on the wall your eyes go wide with understanding. You’ve left your mark on him alright: long scratches on his shoulders and back, each bringing back a memory of the night’s activity. 

When he sees, his instant reaction is to laugh but fucking hell, it’s pretty bad. How the hell hadn’t he noticed? 

You have a hand over your mouth, partially in shock, partially to hide the incredulous laughter begging to be shown. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your giggling to yourself, “I didn’t-”

“That is…” He cuts you off unintentionally, chuckling in disbelief as he looks from the mirror to you, then back again, “unambiguous… What the fuck am I supposed to tell my wife?” 

You snort. “I don’t know. Shit. I didn’t think I… did that.” You hadn’t even thought about it, about how all traces of you on this man are liable to destroy a marriage, though to be fair, you’re not often a homewrecker. 

“Well, it was definitely you, sweetheart. Shit.” You’re lucky that he’s found this amusing and not gone the other way, but his marriage is dead on the rocks anyway, if Clara showed any interest in taking his shirt off he’d be looking around for a hidden camera.

…

You and William part ways soon after, part of you wanting to see him again, the rest knowing that that’s probably not a good idea. But the morning seems to be running away with itself and you don’t have time to think about it, it’s already nearly 7am and you've got to be at the station by 9. 

That doesn’t stop you from reliving the night over and over during your commute though.

As good a time as you’ve had you can’t shake the feeling that it was perhaps too good to be true.

If you made it to the end, thank you sm, you guys reading my stuff is my motivation to keep being excessively horny x

[behindthesoul]

Shang Tsung request. This is an idea I did in a MK roleplay. Reader is Kitana and Mileenas younger sister. She accompanies Mileena everytime she gets a Serum from Tsung. Kinda a forbidden love story since he is only doing that to gain the empress favor c: You can make it either fluff or angst at the end

Forgotten Child - Ch. 1

Shang Tsung x Reader

Masterlist || Next Part

Characters - Shang Tsung, you, Sindel, Mileena

Summary - As Sindel’s forgotten child, no one noticed how the snake wrapped his way around your heart.

Word Count - 1150

Warnings - gender neutral, implied smut, no one cares about reader, everyone’s probably OOC, Shang doesn’t know if he loves you or not.

A/N - my friend you do not know what you have created

It was tough being Sindel’s youngest child. A majority of the spotlight was on the eldest, Mileena. After all, she’s heir to the throne. A smaller light was shone on your other sister, Kitana, by her supporters who felt she was more deserving of the throne than Mileena. But you? You were forced to find comfort in your sisters’ shadows. Each time you tried to claw your way out and carve your own path, your royal duties forced you back in.

To the realm of Outworld, you were Sindel’s other child. Not important to anyone.

To Shang Tsung, you were everything. He first laid eyes on you when he snuck his way into the palace grounds. Words could not describe just how ethereal you looked. He overheard you talking to a few servants; your voice was meek, a stark contrast to the confident voices your family possessed. Shang needed more of it, so he introduced himself.

It was a perfect idea - not only could he gain the empress’ trust by managing Mileena’s Tarkat, he could also gain the trust of her child by courting them. Shang lied as easily as he breathed. He knew it wouldn’t be difficult to make you fall in love.

And you did. You attended every one of Mileena’s serum sessions. Her Tarkat diagnosis was devastating to your entire family, you saw how it destroyed the bodies of its victims; you couldn’t bear to see her suffer under the same fate. Though, you couldn’t lie and say you attended these sessions only to support her. Each week you saw Shang, you grew more and more fond of him.

You and Mileena walk the hallway to Shang Tsung’s laboratory, hand in hand. Her hand is clammy and it makes you want to pull away. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. Mileena never tried to put a brave face on for you, you know how terrified she is at the idea of succumbing to this illness.

“Princess,” Shang says, as he hears the two of you approach. “Not a minute too soon. Please, lay down and we will start.”

You walk Mileena over to the table and help her lay down. You brush stray hair from her face in another attempt to comfort her. The focus on Mileena is interrupted by Shang.

“I would appreciate an extra hand…” he trails off, and you rush over to him before he gets another chance to speak, missing how Mileena’s eyebrow quirks in curiosity. As soon as he sees you’re out of her sight, Shang wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you in for a quick kiss.

“My, how I’ve missed you.”

You stifle a laugh, as to not alert Mileena. “We were together last night, do you not remember?” You take a quick glance around the laboratory, but you’re interrupted by your lover taking your chin in his hand, making you look at him.

“A moment’s break from your gaze is an eternity past,” he hums. Shang walks toward Mileena, serum in hand. You notice how you didn’t even help him at all.

It really was no surprise when the two of you became official. But you were caught off guard when your mother found out.

“You asked to see me, mother?’ You ask, immediately feeling the tension when you walk into her bedroom. Sindel’s eyes pierce into your body, but your body protects itself by averting her gaze.

“I have eyes, you know.”

“Excuse me? I don’t understand.” Your chest tightens, not knowing where she’s getting at.

“Your relationship with the sorcerer. I don’t know why you thought it wise to court him.” She sees that you are about to speak, so she continues before you get the chance. “You doom your sister to death by distracting Shang Tsung. You will end your relationship immediately.”

You shake your head, slightly angry. “I am a distraction to no one! My courtship does not put my sister in harm’s way. Should it, I’d strike Shang Tsung down where he stands.”

Sindel walks closer to you while crossing her arms. “This is not a conversation open to argument. You will listen to your Empress, and you will not risk your sister’s life.” You want to roll your eyes at her, but you restrain yourself. It would only make this conversation worse for you.

“Mother, can’t you see that I am happy? Just once I wish you’d think about my happiness and not Mileena’s! My life is important too.”

“But your life is not the one of Outworld’s future leader. You will put her needs first.”

You can feel your heart breaking with her response. Tears start to fall as you walk out of her room. Sindel calls after you, but you don’t stop moving. Your legs unconsciously carry you to the place that comforts you the most: the palace gardens.

To your surprise, Shang Tsung is there. It’s as if he was waiting for you. He looks over at you as he hears your footsteps, and he makes his way over to you. He sees the sad look on your face and offers you his hand. The two of you slowly walk around the garden. It’s dark; the night brings a chill, drying the tears that stain your face. Shang is silent, but his hand holding yours says everything you need to hear. You look into his soft eyes, he wants to speak, but he holds back and allows you to make the first move.

“Not once in my life have I truly felt my mother’s love for me,” you choke out. “Not once have I been her priority.”

Your hands shake and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out its chest. “Does my age mean I am irrelevant?” You sob harder as Shang pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tight. He frowns in anger.

“You, more than anyone, deserve to have the realms bow at your feet,” he mutters. “Not many are wise enough to admire and worship your beauty. Trust that I am here, darling, and that I know your worth.”

You look at him, eyes puffy and shoulders slumped - still beautiful in his eyes. Your feelings for him almost hurt, and you pray he cares for you just as much. Unable to find the right words, you kiss him. It’s not enough, he needs to know how much you burn for him.

So you kiss him again, noting how he softly sighs as your hand travels up his thigh. He pulls away and unties your robes; he admires the shine of your skin.

“I love you, more than anything,” you announce, “more than anyone.” You giggle when he smirks at your words. That’s all he needed to hear.

You’re so drunk in love that you ignore how he’s never told you he loved you, too.

[acourtofthought]

@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:

And the last paragraph really stood out to me.

Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.

But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).

One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.

So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.

Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.

That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.

But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.

We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.

We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.

We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.

We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.

If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.

The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.

If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?

If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?

[naughtyneganjdm]

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 14

Summary: The aftermath of the fight at the Greene farm and Y/N denying Negan's proposal takes place.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/134560708

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, etc.

Notes: I'm sorry this wasn't up yesterday. I got tired and I passed out. It was a rough day. Thanks to everyone that still kept with the story. I appreciate each and every single one of you!

Twenty-four hours ago, Y/N was in the arms of the man that she loved. She was happy. She felt safe. Even though she was in pain, she felt loved and cherished. In Negan’s arms she felt more comfortable than she ever had in her life. Now? She was miserable.

This was not how Y/N thought she would be spending Christmas Eve. Alone in her apartment. Depressed and sad. Last night she was hopeful. Tonight she was miserable. Sitting in a chair in front of one of her windows that overlooked the city had her feeling more alone than she had in a very long time. Outside the snow was heavy and she felt like it fit her emotions right now. It was a vast difference from how she felt last night. Even though her father broke her, in Negan’s arms she felt far from alone.

Looking to the bottle of Cognac she had in her hand made her let out a long sigh. She probably looked ridiculous sitting in the dark alone. Having the lights off just fit her mood better. There was a darkness settling inside of her heart after what she had done today. Turning Negan down after his beautiful proposal was terrible. Did she want to marry Negan? Of course she did. Negan was everything she could have asked for and more. He was gorgeous and he made her happy. A lot of people were never that lucky to find someone that made them feel so incredibly loved and joyous. Even in the worst of times, Negan was always good at making her feel good. Yet being at her family’s home made her realize that she didn’t think she deserved all of that. After years of trying to break away from the person that her family made her believe she was, she realized that it never left her to begin with.

Turning Negan down was the hardest thing she ever had done in her life. Technically they were already engaged before but telling him no made it clear that it wasn’t real to begin with. And she hated that. She hated hurting Negan because seeing him cry like he was when she left was one of the most devastating things she had ever felt in her life. What she had done was just her trying to do the right thing. Allowing him to eventually find happiness with someone better than her is what she wanted for him.

Lifting the bottle up again, she knew that it was the same one that she had shared with Negan at the Christmas party. She hadn’t drank any of it yet, but she felt like it was in her future. Getting drunk to numb the pain was beginning to sound like the only way out of her feelings and emotions right now. Sitting alone, drunk in her woes sounded much better than being sober. Of course the fact that she shared it with Negan previously had her mind lingering back to him and it hurt. Negan was an incredible man that deserved an incredible woman. Not someone like her. No matter how much she loved him, she knew it was for the best to let him go.

Observing the buildings surrounding her, she imagined that so many families were together. Getting ready to go to sleep to prepare for their big holiday. Christmas was often about joy and family. Yet here she was all alone to herself and heart broken. Right now she just wished the world would swallow her whole.

Since she had left the farm her cell phone had been off. After everything she put up with, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. Especially if it was someone from her family. Even though she loved Annette, Beth and a few others, she just knew that she couldn’t handle talking to them. So much happened that just made her feel like the worst person on the planet and it was for the best to just shut the rest of the world out.

Even thinking about everything that happened had her mind lingering to Glenn. If Glenn was really as upset about things as he claimed to be, he would have come home back to the apartment. He would have found a way. Yet, here she was. Alone. There were no doubts that Glenn was still at her family’s home likely starting a life with Maggie. Why wouldn’t he be? Love was mentioned several times there so it was clear he was in love with her older sister.

It wasn’t so much that he was in love with Maggie that upset her. It was the lack of remorse for it. There was no jealousy or really anger from it. To be fair, she never really loved Glenn. Glenn was not the man that she wanted to spend forever with. He was her friend. Probably her best friend. So, even his actions based on that alone were upsetting. Maybe he tried to call her? Maybe he didn’t. Regardless, the things he also said and did weren’t that of someone who truly cared for her either. So much time was wasted with her worrying about hurting Glenn’s feelings. Yet, the moment he found something better, Glenn eagerly jumped ship and didn’t care.

With everything going on, she had no doubt that Negan had called her. It shattered her to know that because he was trying his best. But she couldn’t face Negan or talk to him right now. It would just hurt too much. For both of them.

A soft knocking sound was heard. Originally, she thought it was just movement from another apartment until it repeated. That was definitely a knock at her door. Gazing back over her shoulder, Y/N let out a grunt. Maybe with the lights off, the person would take the hint that she wasn’t home and leave. At least she hoped they would. She wasn’t in a very talkative mood. But there it was again. Another knock. This time it was louder and determined for her to hear it. Slouching down further in the chair, she felt a lump developing in her throat. Answering that door was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Hello?” a familiar voice called out and amongst the silence. It made her heart skip a beat. Clutching tightly to the neck of the bottle, she sat forward in the chair and sighed. She knew that voice. Setting the bottle down next to the chair on the ground, she bit at her bottom lip and determined her next move. “I know you’re in there Y/N. I asked the doorman if you were here and he told me that you were. He’s the one that let me up here. So please open the door.”

“Fuck,” she scoffed hating that she was even debating not answering the door. Once the next knock was heard, she slowly stood from her seat. This was a case where she couldn’t not answer the door. Heading over toward the door, she was sluggish in the way that she moved. Depression had taken its toll on her. Probably her crying too. It had brought forth an exhaustion and weakness into her that she couldn’t describe. If she would have known what was good for her, she would have been in bed right now trying to sleep it off, but she wasn’t.  

“I hear you moving around in there, so please…just open the door,” the voice begged once more from the other side. Was she really making that much noise? Flicking the lights on, she heard another knock and shook her head.

“I’m coming,” she assured them with a sigh, finally getting to the door. Undoing the lock, she pulled the door open. Being met by the familiar set of hazel eyes had her clutching onto the knob and the doorframe at the same time releasing a long exhale deep from within her. “Beau? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to talk to you,” Beau pulled the hood of his jacket down, his cheeks a rose color from the snowstorm that he had obviously been in. Tugging at the hat he was wearing, Beau shoved it into the pocket of his jacket. Slicking his hair back, Beau tried to straighten his dark hair that had gotten messed. Shifting on his feet, Beau seemed nervous at first before pushing his hands into his pockets. “Thank you for opening the door. I was wondering if you were going to ignore me.”

“I’d never ignore you,” she whispered, reaching out to brush her fingers in over Beau’s cheek to feel the coolness of his rosy cheeks against her touch. It had Beau’s long eyelashes coming to a close and she sighed. Brushing her fingers through Beau’s dark hair, she stepped out in the hallway to see that Beau was alone. “Is your father here?”

Upon her question, Beau’s hazel eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat uneasily, “About that…”

“Beau?” she tipped her head to the side realizing that he was avoiding the question.

“We were at home in the apartment, watching movies…” Beau began, throwing his hands up in the air when he spoke. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I got Erin to distract him. I told him I was going to go grab something from the kitchen and…I snuck out.”

“Beau! Your father must be worried sick about you,” she commented, grasping tightly to the doorknob. Mirroring his father’s expressions, Beau tipped his head from side to side and let out a long sigh.

“Not really,” Beau’s face scrunched up, his lips parting when he contemplated what she said. A dramatic expression flooded his young features, his eyebrows bouncing up. “Okay, that’s a lie. He was furious with me for taking off.”

“I can imagine,” she noted, folding her arms in front of her chest, resting her shoulder against the doorframe. “It’s hard to believe that he wouldn’t demand you to come home.”

“Listen, he called. A lot. He wanted to know where I was, but I wouldn’t tell him,” Beau explained to her, his words coming out almost in a whisper like he was afraid to admit this all to her. “I just told him that I was safe and that I would be home soon.”

Giving Beau a worried glance, she reached out to place her hand in over his shoulder. Stepping aside, she held her hand up in the air motioning Negan’s son into her apartment. Moving slowly, Beau stepped inside with her closing the door behind them. Leading him toward the kitchen, she placed her hand in over his shoulder motioning him toward the table. Pulling out a seat for him, she got Beau to sit down and he stared up at her with his big, hazel eyes.

“You’re freezing,” she commented, brushing her fingers in over the side of his face again. Shaking her head, she moved over toward the cupboard to pull out a mug. Setting it down on the counter, she went over to another part of the kitchen. Grabbing some items for hot chocolate, she immediately started to make him something warm. Glancing back at Beau, she noticed that his eyes were hooked on her watching her every movement. “I assume you are okay with hot chocolate?”

“Of course,” Beau whispered, placing his hands on top of the table.

“Do you want anything in your hot chocolate? Marshmallows? Whipped Cream? Peppermint? Sprinkles?” she asked, bracing her hand on the counter while she put together the hot chocolate for him in a pot on the stove. A smirk tugged at Beau’s features and he shrugged his shoulders. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Beau shook his head, rubbing his hands together in attempts to get some warmth into them. “Surprise me.”

“Sure thing,” she went back into her cupboards to grab something else. “Why would you run away on your dad like that?”

“You have to ask?” Beau muttered, his eyes narrowing when she looked back at him. “He’s miserable Y/N. He’s doing his best to be there for us, as he always does, but I’m not stupid. We all go get a ring together for you and he comes home looking heart broken. It doesn’t take much for me to realize what happened.”

Hearing that drew a breath from her throat and she clutched tightly to the mug that she had grabbed for Beau, “I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you,” Beau corrected himself with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders when he adjusted in the chair that he was in. “I knew that if I told him what I was doing, he wouldn’t let me go. He’d tell me to leave you alone. But I just…I couldn’t do that.”

“How did you even know where I lived?” she wondered, pouring the hot chocolate into the mug. Grabbing some whipped cream from the fridge, she put some on top before topping it off with chocolate sprinkles. Setting it down on the table before Beau had a small smile tugging at his lips when he looked to it. “I put some peppermint extract into it to make it more…Christmas like?”

“Thank you,” Beau accepted the mug, pulling it in closer to him on the table. Lifting it carefully, he took a small sip of the hot liquid. Lowering it made Y/N smirk when the whipped cream covered his top lip from his first sip. Grabbing a napkin for him, she slid it across the top of the table while she lowered down in the seat before him at the table. Cleaning his face off, Beau let out a hesitant laugh before stroking his fingers over the mug she gave him. “I found your address online. You can find pretty much anything on the internet if you know how to look.”

“Touché,” she agreed with him knowing that he was right. Beau took another cautious sip of the hot chocolate, getting comfortable in his seat. Once Beau set his mug down, he felt her hand sliding in over his and he lowered his stare. “You’re still freezing.”

“I’ll be okay,” Beau assured her hearing the worry in her voice. “I’ve got the hot chocolate to warm me up. I’ll just hold onto the cup.”

“You shouldn’t have come out here in the storm Beau,” she pointed out, feeling Beau’s fingers hooking with hers. “Is your father’s place even close to here?”

“Not really,” Beau was honest with her, thinking about how long it took him to get here. By the expression over her face, Beau knew that she was upset with his answer. “I had to do it Y/N. I needed to talk to you and it couldn’t wait.”

“How did you get here Beau?” she inquired, brushing his dark hair back behind his ear. Bringing the mug to his lips, Beau took a long sip of the hot chocolate that she made for him. It was obvious that he was trying to avoid the question. “Beau?”

“It’s complicated,” Beau whispered when he lowered the mug back down. There was an innocence in his eyes when he looked back to her.  

“You sound so much like your father,” she acknowledged, leaning back in her chair. An ache grew at the center of her chest thinking about how she had Negan’s son sitting with her in her apartment when he should have been home with his family.

“I got dad to talk to me about what happened with you Y/N. I know that you told him no when it came to marrying him,” Beau conceded to what he knew and it made her let out a saddened sound. “And I don’t understand why. You told my dad yes originally. The two of you were already engaged. I know you want to be with my dad. So why tell him no this time? Especially since you might be pregnant.”

“I’m not pregnant Beau,” she interrupted Beau’s thoughts noticing that he seemed confused by it. “Your dad and I really only were trying for two days.”

“That’s still two days,” Beau reminded her with a huff, “You don’t know if you are pregnant or not. But regardless, it’s still not answering my question. You said yes to marrying my dad. So much so that you two planned to have a baby together. So why suddenly have those emotions changed Y/N?”

“Because things have changed since that day Beau. That time in the woods wasn’t exactly official,” she thought of the first thing she could. But god. That sounded awful when she thought about it. A lump was growing in her throat the more she thought about it. With Beau’s hazel eyes on her, she didn’t exactly know what to say. “It’s adult stuff.”

“Come on,” Beau scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing showing that he hated that response. “I’m thirteen years old. I’m not a baby. I think I understand things more than most adults do.”

Beau reached or his mug to wrap his fingers back around it to warm himself up, “Don’t do that to me. You’ve always been honest with me. Don’t stop now.”

Hearing that took her breath away and she nodded, “Because I think your father deserves better than me. You saw what happened with my family when we were at the farm. It’s because of me everything happened. I can only imagine that the same thing will happen to your family if I’m in it. And I don’t want that to happen to your family. Sometimes if you love something, you have to let it go.”

“No, I don’t think that’s true,” Beau countered, his young features scrunching up after her answer. It surprised her that he was willing to shut her down that fast. “Anyone with eyes could see that all the drama came from your family. You were just doing your best in a situation that you were destined to fail at because the people you were fighting to get the love from were never willing to give it.”

Yeah, that last sentence was incredibly deep for a thirteen-year-old boy, but he wasn’t wrong, “Do you know what gaslighting is Y/N? because your family is a perfect example of it.”

“I…I know what gaslighting is, Beau,” she responded back with a frown, brushing her fingers over her forehead knowing that it was something that Negan had said a few times.

“Then how can you not see that is what your family did to you?” Beau pushed, sliding his chair in closer to her at the table. “I understand why you are feeling the way you do. It’s hard to have the person that is meant to love you treating you the way your father does. Abuse effects everyone differently and I’m trying to understand that, but you have to know that you are not the problem. You were never the problem. Deep down, you know that.”

Lowering her head, Y/N swallowed down hard and Beau leaned forward, “I think it scares you to be happy because you have no idea what it feels like. For the first time in your life, you knew what it was like to be happy with my dad. To not feel alone and I think that scared you because you have always been alone. You got used to it. You let the loneliness become part of you and you got scared. You let that voice inside of your head become your father. You let it tell you all the awful things that he did growing up and you decided to believe it. But that voice? It’s not real. You have to shut it out because you are not your father. You will never be him.”

Tears burned at her eyes hearing Negan’s thirteen-year-old getting emotional the more that he spoke to her, “How old are you again? Because you sure as hell don’t sound thirteen.”

“I had to grow up fast Y/N,” Beau explained, his raspy voice hitching with his eyes burning. “You think you’re a bad person. You think you don’t deserve happiness, but what was the first thing you did when I got here? You took me into your kitchen, sat me down and got me a hot chocolate to warm me up. Your first thought was to take care of me. It’s the most…mom coded thing that someone could do.”

“Beau,” she half smiled that he was going to bat for her, much like he always did since she met him. “I did what was right. Anybody would do the same thing.”

“No. No they wouldn’t,” Beau denied that thought, sliding his hand across the table to place it over hers in a supportive grasp. “Other than my dad, there is only one person in this world that would do what you just did for me and that was my mom.”

After talking about Lucille, Beau’s lips parted and he let out a tiny whimper that he clearly didn’t want to when his mom came to his mind, “I’ve experienced a lot of this world Y/N and I’ve never found someone I’ve connected with like I have you. We’re so much alike. You and I.”

“Beau, we’re so vastly different too,” she confessed and he let out a hesitant breath. Beau was so much purer than she ever thought she was.

“Yeah, because I was given a chance you never were,” Beau retorted with a frown recalling everything he knew about her family. “I’m a positive example of how things can be when people are depressed because I had a support system. I have a support system. Something you never did.”

It was amazing how a teenager understood her life so much more than most people did. A long exhale fell from her throat with Beau’s fingers curling tighter around hers, “If someone would have loved you the way you were meant to be loved when you were my age, you wouldn’t have had to feel this way. Why won’t you allow yourself the chance to finally be loved that way?”  

“Beau, I appreciate what you are doing here, but we need to call your dad. Do you have any idea what time it is?” she tried to avoid this whole thing, looking back over her shoulder to see the time. Getting up from the table, she reached for her phone that was plugged in on the counter. “We need to get you home.”

“I love you,” Beau stammered, pushing the seat back when he let out a whimpering sound. It made Y/N turn on her heel to stare out at him and he shrugged. “Not in the way that my dad loves you. That would be creepy. I love you in the way that…someone loves a mom. Or a potential mom. It wasn’t just my dad that fell in love with you. Because I love you too. And I think you feel the same way about me. Which is why it doesn’t make sense why you are doing this to yourself. Why you’re doing this to us.”

“Beau,” she frowned hearing him start to cry. Moving forward, she lowered down before him and knelt on her knees. Reaching out, she stroked her fingers in over the side of his face attempting to comfort him. “Of course I love you. How couldn’t I love you? You are the most amazing young man I’ve ever known.”

Hearing his cries continue, Y/N lifted up and felt his arms wrapping around her tightly to hug her. Hushing him, she stroked her fingers through his dark hair and felt her heart breaking, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. That is the one thing I wanted to avoid more than anything.”

“And you thought by taking the one person I’ve connected with the most since my mom passed away would be the way to do that?” Beau’s bottom lip tremored when he pulled back enough to stare out at her. “You didn’t just have my dad falling in love with you Y/N. I did too. And I don’t think it’s fair that you are letting your family take us away from you and you away from us. Because all of us are miserable Y/N.”

It broke her heart to hear that. What she was doing she thought was best for Negan and his family, but hearing how broken Beau was over everything hurt.

“I know you think you don’t belong with my dad…with us,” Beau started with a broken breath, “But I’m certain that my mother sent you to be with us. That you were meant to find my dad because…she knew that me and my dad…we were both broken. That we both needed someone like you in our lives.”

Motioning her to wait, Beau took out his wallet and stood from the table. Pulling out the drawing that Y/N had done for Beau had a breath catching in her throat seeing that he had kept it. When they talked in the past, he told her that he carried two notes with him always. One from his mother and another from his father. Seeing that she was added to the notes took her breath away. Grabbing one of those other notes from his wallet, Beau unfolded it, put it down on the table and pointed between both of them.

“To Beau, your heart shines brighter than the sun. Never stop being you because you are one in a million. You’re a shining star in the night sky,” Beau read what she had written to him with the drawing when they had spent time together that first time. Pointing to the note that was a little more withered, Beau shook his head and let out a whimpering breath. “My sweet Beau, your heart shines brighter than the sun. Never let that leave you because you are one in a million. You’re my shining star and never stop shining.”

Beau’s hand dropped at his side, the tears sliding down his face harder after he read both things to her. A shuddering breath fell from her throat after hearing Beau compare both things. Dramatically Beau pointed between both her drawing and the note from his mother, “If that’s not a fucking sign, I don’t know what is.”

Wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, Beau stared out at Y/N and bit down on his bottom lip, “I know you’re not her. I know that. I’m smart enough to know that. I’m old enough to not be that stupid, but I think my mom is out there somewhere. Maybe she’s one of the stars out in there in the sky. I think she saw that I was broken. That dad was broken. And I think she found you and she brought us together. Even if it was in a way that you consider wrong, it happened for a reason. You were meant to find my dad. You were meant to find me.”

Shakily reaching her hand out, Y/N hooked her fingers with Beau’s and he instinctively grasped a tight hold of them, “I saw my mom die, Y/N. She died in my father’s arms holding onto my hand,” Beau thought back on the hardest moment of his life. “My father has always been the strongest man I’ve ever known. But that day? I watched him break down. I’ve never seen him cry like that. And he wouldn’t let go of her. It took a long time before he was finally willing to let her go,” Beau was sobbing and she didn’t know what she could do to make everything better other than to listen. “That night I watched the light in him disappear. My dad was broken hearted and there was no fixing it. It was gone. And it was gone from me too. But I tried to hide it the best I could. My mother asked me to watch over him before she died, so I did. I held it in. And I never saw that light return to him, until I saw him with you. Something I never thought I would see again with my father, I saw when he was with you.”

Not crying was impossible when Y/N looked down at the ground, “And you did it for me too. I felt like I finally had a mother again. That’s how I knew my mom had to have a hand in this. She knew you were hurting and you needed us just as much as we needed you,” Beau insisted, placing his other hand over Y/N’s too. “So if you love me, if you love my dad…how could you possibly think this is the best option Y/N? I don’t care what your family has told you. I don’t care what that voice in your head tells you because it’s wrong. We love you. And we both need you. So much.”

Instead of responding, Y/N moved forward to wrap Beau up in her arms feeling his tears soaking her shirt the longer than she held onto him, “I do love you Beau, very much. But I don’t know how your father would feel after I told him no to his proposal. I can only imagine how much pain I’ve put him through.”

“He’s head over heels in love with you,” Beau tipped his head back, allowing her to brush away his tears while she stared down at him. “The pain of not having you in his life is worse than you telling him no. I’m not trying to guilt you into doing what I want Y/N, I just need you to see how important you are. How important you are to my dad. How important you are to me.”

“I know baby,” she hushed him hating that he thought she may have even considered that. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“You do want to be with my dad, right?” Beau confirmed, drawing her to lean back and let out a shuddering breath. “Because you told him yes when he asked you to marry him the first time. I still think you want to marry him. I still think you love him and you want to be with him.”

“Of course I do, Beau,” she was truthful with her answer. Negan was everything she wanted and more. She just hadn’t felt like she was good enough for him. “I love your father more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I told you, the only place I’ve ever felt like I’ve belonged is with you and your dad.”

“Then come home with me. Tell him how you feel,” Beau suggested, shaking his head and squeezing her hands in his tighter. “I know that he will be accepting of everything because he loves you. I love you. Please?”

Right when she was about to answer, she heard the sound of a knock and Beau did his best to reach up to wipe at his face to get the tears away, “Beau?”

“There’s something else,” Beau announced motioning her to wait. A sudden rush of nervousness flooded his body and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. “I really hope you don’t get mad at me for this. You see, dad was really distracted today. Even though he was doing his best, I was able to get away to my room for a while and I called someone. I got them to come pick me up and they are the person that brought me here. They couldn’t find a parking spot, so I just hopped out when we got here and left them to find a spot to park. I wanted to talk to you first. Alone.”

Tipping her head to the side, Y/N watched Beau moving away from her and heading for the door to pull it open. There was a sinking feeling in her gut when she saw Hershel moving toward the entrance of the kitchen. Beau closed the door and moved around Hershel to return to Y/N. Lowering her head, she didn’t know how to respond to her father being there.

Hershel looked between the both of them, sliding his hands into his pockets. It was obvious that both Beau and Y/N had been crying and he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I take it I missed something big?” Hershel concluded as Beau moved in beside Y/N. Grabbing a hold of Y/N’s hand, Hershel knew that Beau was incredibly protective of his middle daughter. With a nod, Beau stood his ground almost declaring in his body language that he was there to protect her. After a minute, Y/N lifted her head, her eyes locking with her father’s. It seemed like Hershel wanted to say something, but he stopped. Pointing over toward Beau, Hershel cleared his throat and sighed loudly. “This young man loves you a lot. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” she spoke softly, standing up from the chair that she was in. Wrapping her arm around Beau’s shoulders, she pulled him in closer to her and gave him a tight squeeze. “And I love him too.”

“Good,” Hershel uttered, giving a firm nod. “It’s good that the both of you have each other.”

They stood silent for a moment. Hershel was motionless, his eyes dropping to the ground when he shifted slightly before them. Taking in a long, shallow breath Hershel nodded toward the living room that he saw in the distance, “Do you think that we can sit and talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” she didn’t know how to respond to things when Hershel moved from her kitchen into her living room. Beau grabbed his letters from the table that he had pulled out so he could put them back into his wallet. Leading Y/N toward the living room, Beau looked up at Y/N with tears still in his eyes. “Just hear him out. If he upsets you, I’ll kick him out myself.”

“Okay,” she faintly smiled, brushing her fingers through Beau’s hair and moving over toward the couch with Beau. Taking a seat, she realized that Beau sat close to her making sure to show her that he was still going to be her support system no matter what. That was never anything she questioned. Beau was always there for her and that was never going to change.

“This is a really nice view,” Hershel spoke, heading over toward the large window that looked over the city. With a nervous nod, Y/N wondered what her father was really doing there anyways. “You did really good for yourself Y/N.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, still having a hard time looking at Hershel. The only reason she wasn’t losing it was because of Beau. Obviously, this was something that was meaningful to Beau, so she was going to hear her father out for that reason alone. “What are you doing here Hershel?”

“Well, I was at home. There was a big family meeting going down when this young man called me,” Hershel explained pointing over to Beau who looked to Y/N with his big eyes. “He asked me not to talk and to listen to him. So I listened for once in my life. I listened to everything he had to say. It was a long conversation with some back and forth. We hung up. I spent some time alone in the kitchen and it didn’t take long for me to think about what he said. I called him back, I drove out here to the city and I picked him up. We drove here together, he took off while I parked and that’s pretty much it.”

“Not to be rude,” she started, her head tipping from side to side, “that just explains the steps of how you got here. Not why you’re here Hershel.”

Hershel’s expression showed that he was surprised that she called him out on that point, but it was true. Sure, it was a good lead up, but there had to be more of a reason why he was there.  

“I owe you some explanations,” Hershel began, heading over toward the seat that was across from Beau and Y/N. In his body language, it showed that he was uncomfortable and it was strange to see from her father. Usually, Hershel didn’t care about anything, but to see him uneasy was not a sight that she was used to. “And I’m going to do my best giving them to you,” Hershel tried to gather himself, hooking his fingers together. “I think you know some of this, but it’s important to things. When I was younger, my father was very abusive. I hated him. He was an alcoholic and it ruined our family. The second I could get away, I did. My father was a cold man. Always mocked me for having a love for animals, but I didn’t care. When I was gone, I became a veterinarian because it’s what I wanted. And hell I did it just to spite him. Kind of like you with your art.”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed out, she knew this information. It was something she had only heard somewhat about, but it was something more so directed at Maggie. Hershel always let Maggie know that the reason he stopped drinking was for her.

“You and I were a lot alike when we were younger,” Hershel informed her, giving a shrug knowing that she would probably hate hearing that. “Only when we were younger though. We both had our fathers that were unbearable and we desperately wanted to get away. Prove to them that we could be what we wanted without judgement.”

It hurt being compared to her father, but he wasn’t wrong. From what he talked about when it came to his father, their pasts did sound very similar. Especially with them wanting to do what they loved and escaping so they could.

“When my father was dying on his death bed, I came back to that farm. I saw what he became and I vowed to never be like him,” Hershel thought back on his past, his words coming out shaken because he was visibly trying to hold himself together. “I had become an alcoholic in that time away from him. It was the best way I could deal with all the pain I felt because of him growing up. Hell, it was kind of in my blood to become an alcoholic. The day I saw him on his deathbed is the day that I vowed to stop drinking because I never wanted to be like him. Especially after I found out about Maggie. I didn’t want to have my family growing up the way that I did.”

A tremoring breath fell from her lips when she dropped her head down. That sounded very familiar to her, but from her own point of view and it hurt hearing that come from Hershel’s own mouth considering everything that Hershel put her through.  

“I thought I had the perfect life. I was married to Josephine, we had Maggie and everything felt right in the world until she got sick. When she got sick, it was the hardest thing I had ever had to experience in my life,” Hershel recalled back on his life, his eyes lifting to Y/N’s to show that he was emotional. “I had this little girl that I had to take care of and I knew that her mother was dying. And when she did? It broke me.”

Even though these were things that they knew growing up in their family, they were never things they really touched on. Hershel wasn’t always open with his emotions. In fact, he was rather cold when it came to him opening up. When it came to loving Maggie and Beth, he was mostly warm to them, but never when it came to getting deep about feelings.  

“I never thought I would fall in love again. And because of that, I fell. I was so close to drinking again because I remembered what it was like when I was younger. I remembered how it helped to ease the pain that I had when I thought about my past with my father,” Hershel declared, holding his hands out as if drawing together his thoughts from the past. “It was a while after Josephine had passed. I wasn’t doing good. I was a single father. Maggie was sad. I was failing in all the areas that I should have been thriving with, but it was hard. It was really hard. So one night, I went to a bar. Maggie was in bed and I left her alone. I should have never done that, but your sister was a deep sleeper when she was younger. I knew I’d be fine until morning…”

Hershel took a moment to stop and catch himself. Lowering his hand, Hershel rubbed it against his knee and raised his gaze. Both Beau and Y/N were listening to him intently. Neither one broke from him and it was strange that both of them were actually giving him a chance to explain things after everything that they had been through.

“That night was the night I met your mother,” Hershel explained to Y/N seeing her posture change once he finally mentioned her mother to her. “I hadn’t been to a bar in a very long time. So everyone there was a stranger for me. I was deep in my sorrows and I had gone to the bar. I took a seat and almost immediately I had spotted your mother. People were drawn to her. She was standing by this jukebox. There was a light on her and like I said, she was hard to miss. With her smile and her energy. Even the way the room was lit, it was like it almost brought the attention directly to her. But of course she was surrounded by other people. People were always drawn to your mother.”

Noticing that Y/N seemed to tense up, Beau squeezed his fingers around hers and gave her a small nudge. This was everything that she wanted and more growing up, it was just hard hearing it for the first time.

“I was about to drink. The bartender put it right in front of me and when I was about to take my first sip, someone fell right on top of me,” Hershel chuckled, shaking his head while deep in recollection of his memories. “The drink spilled all over me and the person who fell on me was your mother. You see, your mother was wearing a new dress that day and she tripped over it. Even though it was her that fell, she ripped me a new one for spilling that drink all over the both of us. She was a spitfire.”

There was something that changed in Hershel’s features when he sighed loudly and reached up to rub at the back of his neck, “We bickered back and forth. But God, she was so beautiful just standing there lecturing me. I thought she was my guardian angel. A sign sent from God to show me that I wasn’t supposed to have that drink. I tried telling her that, but she didn’t want to listen to me. I guess she was on a date that was going horrible at the time and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. I followed her out of that bar like a lost puppy, just trying to get her to listen to me.”

“And she fell for it?” she wondered watching the smile tug at Hershel’s lips.

“Nope, she told me to screw off,” Hershel declared with another laugh, his face having a light shade of pink flooding into it. “Before she did that, I told her everything. I told her about my past, why I was there and how I thought she was my guardian angel. Of course doing that meant I told her about my alcoholism and she wanted nothing to do with me. Why would she? I had a lot of baggage in my life and someone like her didn’t need all of that. I thought I would never see her again after that night. Maybe she was just put there to stop me from having that drink. So I went home back to Maggie and made sure to make a promise to myself that I would never drink again. I even threw away the clothes so Maggie wouldn’t be able to smell that.”

There was a silence between them when Hershel looked down at the ground again, “At that time I was very careful with your sister. See, Maggie was like Beau. She lost her mother too. She was younger than Beau, but it did something to her. So I was always protective of her,” Hershel claimed, lifting his gaze to both Beau and Y/N. “After Josephine died, Maggie just wasn’t…right. I think we all know that your sister is, I don’t know the word. A bit reckless maybe?”

“Hershel,” Beau muttered his name trying to get him to focus on what he wanted him to talk about since it seemed like Hershel was getting distracted.

“I’m getting there son,” Hershel assured Beau with a frown, holding his hands up to motion him to wait. While they agreed that losing her mother was hard for Maggie and they understood him being protective of her, it was getting away from the point he was really there for. “I took your sister to a fair that was in town one night. While we were there, we ran into your mother again. She was there with her godson and she was so good to your sister. I was smitten with her almost immediately. I knew when I saw her interacting with Maggie that I had to have her, so I asked her out on a date. She reluctantly agreed, but she was cautious. I think the only reason she said yes to me was that she fell in love with Maggie and liked the way that I was with her.”

Maggie was young, so it was likely that she never remembered much about her mother, but God Y/N wished that she would have. It would have been nice hearing things about her mother from Maggie because it sounded like Maggie actually had gotten to experience love, real love from her mother. If even for a short time.

“We went on our first date and I proclaimed my love for her at the end of the night. I asked her to marry me almost immediately. It was there. That special thing that I had with Josephine. I felt it. I know she did too, but she knew about my past. I was honest with her from the start and no matter how many times I asked her to marry me, she wouldn’t,” Hershel continued on with his story, biting at his bottom lip when he paused to think things out. “But it didn’t stop us from being together. She fought it, but you can’t stop real love. Can you?”

A tiny smirk tugged at Y/N’s lips hearing him say that as he continued, “Eventually she got pregnant with you and she was scared. She had lost her parents a long time ago and she didn’t have a lot of family, but I promised I would take care of her. That I loved her and I would always take care of her,” Hershel’s eyes started to tear over and, in that moment, she could actually sense the pain in her father’s tone. “God she was so excited to have you. Always writing down names in books that she wanted if you were a boy or girl. And when she went into labor, she finally agreed to marrying me. I was so happy. I felt like the luckiest man alive. I was in love with someone perfect. She really was perfect. I had a beautiful daughter and a beautiful new baby girl. I couldn’t have been happier.”

This story was not the one that she was used to. It was completely different and hearing it for the first time had chills running down her spine. Goosebumps covered her arms and she didn’t know if she should say something or just keep listening.

“We brought you home and everything was perfect up until you were about nine months old,” Hershel’s voice got raspier, his body becoming stiffer when the worst part of his memories returned to him. “Your mother started feeling run down. She never sat still that woman. Always on the run, always helping other people. I just thought she wasn’t getting enough sleep. And then she went to the doctors…”

It was then she heard the hurt sound escape Hershel’s throat and he lowered his head down, “your mother was sick. With the same…exact…thing that kill Maggie’s mother. There was nothing that could be done. We couldn’t stop it from happening. How does that happen? Two women in a row getting sick from the same thing? It didn’t make sense. I wanted to believe that a miracle would happen because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I found love again and she was going…she was going to leave me. Just like Josephine.”

Leaning back on the couch, Y/N felt her throat tightening hearing what it was that finally did kill her mother in the end.

“This time it was fast. Not like Josephine. At least with Maggie, she got time to be with her mother. The sickness, it took your mother so fast. She was one of the strongest people I knew and she was always going, but it took her so fast. You were so young. The last thing she made me do was promise to take care of you,” Hershel thought back on Y/N’s mother showing that he was truly shaken up by the idea of losing her. “You don’t understand. I loved her, so much. I fell so hard. I thought I had found two soulmates in my life. And then the world took her away from me. I was broken. So broken,” Hershel tried to explain, pulling himself to the edge of the seat so he could look more directly at Y/N. “Even though I said I never would, I started drinking again.”

A sense of shock flooded her veins. Hershel always insisted that he stayed away from alcohol once he learned about Maggie, but to hear that he had lost his way in the time after her mother passed away had really shaken her up.

“I had two little girls at home waiting for me. The thought of her destroyed me. It broke me in two. I realized that the problem had to be me. I was poison. How could the two women that I fell in love with die of the same exact thing?” Hershel emphasized his words, tears sliding down his face when the two women he lost were remembered. And he wasn’t wrong. That was incredibly bad luck. “Then I started thinking, if I would have never approached your mother, maybe she would be still alive. Maybe she would still be here if she didn’t get with me.”

Beau’s arm hooked tighter around Y/N’s when he could see that she was getting more upset listening to her father talk about her mother. Looking to Beau, she felt her throat tensing up and Beau laid his head on her shoulder.

“I was drowning and no one was there to take care of my babies. I had a friend tell me it was time to wake up, so I had to do the one thing that would keep me alive for the two of you. And that was erase the memory of her. It was the only thing I thought I could do to help carry on. I tried setting everything on fire that reminded me of her, but I couldn’t do it. I loved her too much. Instead, I went up to the attic and I put those things there for years. Even if I wrote her off, she was still there in the back of my mind,” Hershel pointed toward Beau since he was the one that found the things that Y/N had approached Hershel about. It wasn’t the best excuse, but it made sense in how closed off from emotions her father was. Seeing her father crying was new for her. It was rare and it was a sight she never thought she would see. Especially when it came to her mother. “It was the only way to keep myself from falling again. I was so afraid of getting too close to someone because of how they always ended up sick. Annette I just got lucky with. When I was failing, she was there to pick up the pieces and take care of you girls. She’s put up with my shit for so long.”

Tears still lingered in her eyes when Hershel frowned, “I know I’ve not been a good father to you. You look so much like her Y/N. It hurts looking at you because I’m reminded all the time of the love that I lost. The woman that saved me…the woman that died because of me.”

“You didn’t make her sick,” Y/N interrupted her father knowing that if she died from the same thing that Josephine died from, there was nothing that he could have done to cause it. “That was just really bad, unfortunate luck, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it though? How does that happen?” Hershel looked to Y/N for an answer, her lips parting, but she had nothing more to say. Hell, if it was her in his position, she would have thought the same thing. That it was her fault. She just knew that she would have never taken it out on her child like Hershel did. “I thought I would lose you girls. I thought I would lose Annette. I know I’m poison. I’m no good. I wanted to so desperately be what my father wasn’t and I was so blind because my pain drew me to become just like him in many ways for you. I always knew you were going to leave me. You were so much like your mother. So independent. And it just made me cold. You looked like her, you acted like her and I just couldn’t handle it. That’s no excuse. I know it’s not, but I was so afraid that you were going to leave me that I broke myself off from you. It was wrong. I know that. I just did what I thought was the best way to keep myself from being my father and it’s not what I should have done. I should have let your mother live on through me and you. Instead, I erased her because I was scared. Scared that I would break down and leave you girls with nothing. So I made the wrong choice. It was very wrong, but you saw those photos.”

“I did,” she looked to the booklet that was sitting on the table in the distance and she agreed with him, she did look like her mother. Hershel was crying and Y/N was doing her best to be strong even though everything hurt to hear. “Thank you for telling me.”

“If there is such a thing as an afterlife, your mother is going to kick my ass when I finally meet my end,” Hershel proclaimed with a frown, reaching to wipe at his face. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me Y/N. After this long, I should have been able to man up and be honest with you. I just convinced myself that if I allowed myself the time to grieve, I would become what I was so scared of being all over again. Just to make the pain stop. Because every time I think of your mother, I feel that pain…”

Hershel raised his hand up to place it over the center of his chest, his bottom lip quivering showing that he was emotional in the moment, “So I let you believe the lies I told. I even wanted to believe them myself so I didn’t have to face that pain again. It’s no excuse, but I am so very sorry. I know you won’t believe me, but I do love you. I just didn’t want what happened to your mother to happen to you. When we fought and you left…when you never came back, I just shut down that part of me like I did your mother. Instead of facing my feelings and taking on the pain, I was so cold to everything. I was just afraid of being hurt, so when the idea of pain reoccurred, I just tried to erase everything. And it was the wrong decision. I wish I could go back and change it, but I can’t. You were the last bit I had left of your mother and I lost you. This time it was completely my own fault.”

“Dad,” she breathed out watching when he stood up and moved before her. Hershel lowered down, reaching out to shakily cup her face in his hands. A loud exhale fell from her throat because she was not used to this kind of affection from the man knelt down before her.

“Your mother would be very proud of the person that you became. You’re none of the things that I’ve said. I’m just a mean old man that is angry that you left me and never looked back. I just never realized it was all my fault that it happened,” Hershel declared, his own words coming out shaken while he spoke to her. “I am so sorry. I know the mistake is mine and mine alone. I’m proud of who you are and what you have done. I should have been there every step of the way encouraging you and helping you instead of shutting down like I did.”

At this point, she was a mess when Hershel moved in to wrap his arms around her to hug her. It was the first time in her life she had ever heard him say something like that to her and she knew it was a big deal because of everything that happened, “I don’t want you gone from my life. I want you in my life because you are my daughter and I should have been showing you the love you deserved your whole life. I am so sorry that I didn’t.”

Forgiving him would be hard because of all the pain she went through her whole life, but this was a start. She just needed to know that he really meant it.

Pulling back, Hershel brushed her hair behind her ear and frowned, “Then this boy calls me and tells me that you turned his father down to a marriage proposal because you are torturing yourself over me,” Hershel recalled what had happened with Beau during their conversation, “If there is one thing I can tell you honey, it’s not to let that happen. I may not like Negan’s approach, but the things he said to me that day when he was upset with me in the attic, it’s exactly what I would want a man to say if he loved my daughter. That Negan loves you and if you learned anything from what I told you today, it’s that you can’t waste a minute if you truly love someone. Your mother was so scared about marrying me that we never did it and I regret every minute of it. I lost the woman I loved twice, don’t give up real love. Not when it’s there right in front of you.”

Looking to Beau, Y/N could see that his eyes were still damp from the crying that they had done and he was emotional with her being upset as well.

“What I’ve seen from both this boy and Negan is real love. You don’t always get that in life,” Hershel suggested with a shake of his head. “So please don’t make a mistake that will leave you broken hearted because of the words of this miserable old man that has done nothing but make mistakes his whole life. If you love that man, really love him, don’t let happiness slip through your fingers. Because if you mean what you said, that he’s the only person that makes you feel like you belong, then that’s the man that is for you. That’s who you are supposed to be with.”

A tense laugh fell from her throat. That took a lot out of Hershel. She was sure of that since Hershel and Negan had butted heads more than a few times. But with Hershel even telling her not to let that slip through her fingers, she knew that it was a big deal.

With a nod, Y/N looked between both Beau and Hershel before letting out a shuddering breath, “Are you willing to give us a ride?”

“Of course I am,” Hershel leaned forward to press a loving kiss against Y/N’s temple. Once he stepped back, both Beau and Y/N stood to their feet, but he motioned them to stop before they could get ready to leave. “Although, you’re going to have to wait a minute because I have no idea where I parked and I need to find the car first.”

“We’ll help you,” she responded, hooking her fingers with Beau so she could lead him toward the kitchen to grab her things.

As they were all about to head out, Y/N called out to Hershel and he stopped to look back at her. Heading over to him, she wrapped her arms around him to give him a hug. At first, he didn’t know how to respond, but after a moment he wrapped his arms around her. It was a firm hug, one that she had needed to have for a very long time from her father.

“Thank you for telling me what you did. If you really mean what you say, I’d like to spend more time with you and learn more about my mother,” she admitted with Hershel squeezing his arms around her tighter. "Because from what you say about her, I think she’d want me to forgive you and I’m willing to. As long as you put in the work too.”

“I will,” Hershel assured her, leaning back enough to stroke his fingers in over the side of her face. “I promise.”

----

Shifting uneasily on the couch, Negan looked to his watch to see the time. When Beau assured him that he would be coming home, Negan thought immediately. So the fact that it was taking this long for Beau to return was really making Negan panic. Beau had sent him multiple texts assuring Negan he was safe, but it was scaring the hell out of Negan. They had been watching Christmas movies when Beau had taken off and he still was with Erin. Well, Erin had fallen asleep in his lap while they stayed up waiting for Beau. There was no way that he would go to bed until his son was safely home.

Letting out a long sigh, Negan slid his hand into his pocket to pull out the jewelry box that was still there. Pushing it open with his thumb, Negan stared out at the ring and felt his chest aching at the sight of it. Earlier he thought he would have been spending his Christmas Eve with his children and Y/N. After she turned him down, it broke his heart, but he was doing his best to still show up for his children for Christmas since they were really what Christmas was about anyways.

Hearing the sound of the elevator ding, Negan turned his head back to look for Beau. When Beau didn’t walk into the room, he let out a small grunt. Adjusting Erin carefully, Negan moved his daughter so that she was sleeping comfortable on the couch. Cautiously getting up, Negan moved quietly to make sure that she stayed asleep before heading for the hallway that led to the elevator.

When he was met with an empty hallway, Negan’s head tipped to the side and he dropped his arms down at his side. The sound the elevator made was that it did when someone was returning to the level his apartment was on.

“Beau?” Negan called out to his son, worried when there was no response on the other side. Sighing loudly, Negan assumed that it was probably because Beau was moving slow, worried about his father getting upset with him. “You don’t have to hide Beau. I’m not mad at you, I’m just relieved that you are home. I promise. So why don’t you just come give me a hug and we can all go to bed. We can talk about whatever you did in the morning after we open gifts.”

A loud exhale fell from Negan’s throat when Y/N stepped out into the hallway and he felt his heart skip a beat, “Well shit. I was about to ask you not to go hard on him, but you have to go being the good father again. Don’t you?”

Speechless, Negan didn’t know what to say when she stepped forward in the hallway. Undoubtedly, the first thing he wanted to do was go up to her and wrap his arms around her, but after everything, he didn’t even know if that would be appropriate. “Beau was with you?”

“He was,” she answered with a frown, holding her hand out. Stepping forward, Beau accepted her hand and moved in beside her. There was a rosy color to Beau’s cheeks and he almost looked worried with how his father would respond to everything. “Beau showed up at my apartment and we had a good talk. Where he opened my eyes up to a lot of things. A lot of important things.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in curiosity when Beau rest his head in against her shoulder. Whatever their conversation was, it had no doubt an effect on the bond between his son and Y/N. “What kinds of things did you realize?”

“That I’m head over heels in love with you, him and Erin,” she explained stammering through her words, bringing Beau’s hand up to press a kiss over the back of his hand. Giving Beau a wink, she released his hand and stepped closer to Negan. The expression over Negan’s face was everything that she needed to see. Hearing that she still loved him drew him to let out a shuddering breath of relief. “Beau made me realize that it didn’t matter what someone said to me or what that voice inside my head tells me because it’s wrong.”

“He’s right,” Negan responded with a weak smile. “You are so much better than you really give yourself credit for.”

“And it’s because of the two of you that I see it,” she was close enough to Negan to draw him to let out a tremoring exhale. “Beau also made me realize that there was something in this world that brought us together. We were meant to find one another and be together.”

“Yeah?” Negan’s voice was broken, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he felt his eyes burning over.

“Yeah,” she answered, stepping before Negan who was frozen where he was standing. Lowering his head, Negan saw the back of her hand pressing in against his and he bit down on his bottom lip. “I’m so sorry I did what I did with running away. Your son is right about me. I got scared. I’ve never felt happiness like I do when I’m with you and your children. I was afraid that I would lose you or make life worse for you so I pushed you away. But you are the first person in this world that makes me feel like I’m not alone Negan. Like I’m actually special and I don’t want to lose that.”

Holding her hand out, she saw Negan look down at it, his lips parting and his bottom lip tremoring, “I want to be with you and your family Negan. I love you. I love everything about you. I love your smile. I love your personality, even when you are pissing people off. I love how good of a father you are. I love how much you love me. I just love you…”

“I love you too,” Negan whispered, accepting her hand, squeezing it firmly in his. Sweeping his thumb over the back of her hand, he could see that his son was watching on with awe in his eyes.

“You’re not wrong Negan, being separated from you hurts and I don’t think I would survive without you,” she repeated some of the things he had said to her in the past drawing a tiny smile from him. Lowering down onto one knee had a confused expression flooding in over Negan’s features. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the ring pop that Negan had given her that night on the trail. A muted laugh fell from his throat when he saw it. “I’ve wasted enough of my life on things Negan. I need you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The love from both you and your son saved me when I didn’t even realize that I needed saving. I’ve never felt more alive than I do when I’m with all of you. So would you do me the honors of being my husband? Will you marry me Negan?”

“What do you think?” Negan scoffed, watching her smile when he nodded his head about. “Yes. Fucking of course I will.”

Sliding the ring pop up his finger as best as she could, they both laughed when it got stuck about a third of the way up. Pulling her up to him, Negan wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in against his chest. Bringing their lips together, Negan drew out the kiss and hummed against her lips before they separated.

“You stole my move,” Negan lifted his hand to stare out at the ring pop that she had proposed to him with.  

“It was a good one,” she responded, nuzzling her nose in against his. Slipping his hand down, Negan managed to grab the jewelry box from his pocket. Opening it up, he grabbed the engagement ring he had bought for her and raised her left hand up. Sliding it down her finger, Negan stared down at it for a minute before lowering his head to press a kiss over the back of her hand. “I’m sorry for saying no earlier. I just wasn’t thinking with a clear mind. But now I know. I love you so much and I can’t be without you.”

Instead of responding, Negan brought her into another loving hug that had him nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck, “you don’t have to apologize to me Y/N. I love you and I was going to wait for you as long as I had to because I knew that we were meant to be together. I love you so fucking much and I would have never given up.”

“I know,” she pulled back enough to stroke over the side of his face in a tender sweep. “Are you going to be okay with the fact that I’m the one that asked you to marry me?”

“Well, technically I asked first, well, twice, but…” Negan teased with a wrinkle of his nose, stealing another quick kiss from her. “I’m okay with telling people that you were the one to propose. Whatever makes you the happiest, makes me the happiest.”

The sound of something knocking over was heard and it drew Negan to lift his head to see Beau standing at the edge of the kitchen. Giving a half wave, Beau smiled uneasily before shifting on his feet.   

“So I owe this to my son?” Negan wondered, squeezing his arms tighter around Y/N who eagerly accepted the gesture.

“You do,” she acknowledged that this was all because of Beau that she was here right now.

“Come here,” Negan ordered, wiggling his finger out at Beau who gave a big smile. Nodding, Beau moved forward swiftly, eager to accept the group hug from the both of them. “Thank you, buddy. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you.”  

“He always knows what to say,” Y/N informed Negan with a weak smile, pulling back enough so that she could press her hand in over the side of Beau’s face. “I’ve never met someone with a bigger heart than Beau.”

“My beautiful, sweet boy,” Negan brushed his fingers through Beau’s hair noticing that Beau’s eyes were tearing over. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” Beau whispered dropping his head down to cuddle it in over Negan’s shoulder. “I just want all of us to be happy. And I knew that the only way for all of us to be happy…was to be together.”

Taking that moment to cherish the two in his arms, Negan closed his eyes and squeezed them close. Even though this didn’t turn out exactly the way that he thought it would, this was the best outcome that he could have wished for after everything that occurred. They were together and that’s what counted most.  

“How in the world did you get all the way out to her house?” Negan blurt out, pulling back and interrogating his son, surprised that Beau was able to pull off what he did. “I know you hate the subway and you wouldn’t get into a cab…”  

Someone cleared their throat making Negan lift his head to see that Hershel was in his hallway with his hands behind his back alerting Negan that it was him that Beau was with, “Well shit. You don’t have a shotgun with you. Do you?”

“Oh, no,” Hershel pulled his hands forward to show that they were empty. “And no more shotguns. Unless you plan to break her heart. Then, I might have to reconsider on the shotguns. I am sorry for that.”

“I don’t plan on breaking her heart,” Negan snickered, leaning down to nuzzle his nose in against the side of Y/N’s neck. “So I think we’re going to be good Hersh.”

“I may have called him and talked to him while Erin had you distracted. I convinced him to come down here to talk to Y/N so she could finally know about her mother,” Beau educated his father on what happened and what he missed. Surprised, Negan looked to Y/N who simply gave him a nod. “They are willing to work on things together.”

“Really?” Negan was surprised to hear that considering everything that happened.

“Really,” she informed Negan with a loud swallow. “We will talk about things tonight.”

“Are we all better now?” Erin’s tired voice was heard and they looked to see that she was standing in the doorway of the kitchen staring out at them with her big, tired, green eyes. Her polar bear stuffed animal was under her arm and she looked like she was ready to pass out. Waving Erin forward, Negan picked her up in his free arm pulling her in close so they could all be together.  

“Much better,” Negan peppered kisses against the side of Erin’s face.  

“Well, then…what are we still doing up?” Erin asked, pointing back toward the Christmas tree. “If we don’t go to sleep Santa won’t come. You know that.”

“You know what? She’s right,” Negan agreed with Erin, looking beyond them to Hershel. “I have a guest room Hersh. What do you say? You can stay with us until morning and then you can leave in the morning after Santa has come. I think with all the snow it would be a good idea for you to stay here for the night.”

“Are you sure?” Hershel confirmed and Negan gave him a slow nod.

“We’ll set you up in a minute,” Negan assured him, lowering in to press his forehead against Y/N’s. Having both of his children and Y/N in his arms was everything to him. Especially now after everything they had been through. “This is the best Christmas gift I could have ever asked for. With you, Erin and Beau. I couldn’t picture anything better than being with the things I love the most in this world.”

“I’m sorry the present came a little late,” Y/N hummed against his lips, stealing another quick kiss from them.

“Better late than never,” he whispered with a smile, nuzzling his nose in against hers. “I have a whole life to look forward to with you and I don’t plan on wasting a single second of it.”  

----

ONE YEAR LATER

“Is dinner almost ready babe?” Y/N called out from where she was before the Christmas tree with Beau and Erin putting the presents under the tree. Looking to her watch, she stole another quick glance at the time before sighing. “I think Maggie said she would be here with Glenn and little Hershel in less than a half hour. My parents and the others will be a little bit later.”

“Almost,” Negan called out from the kitchen getting her attention back on him to see that he was standing in the doorway with their three-month-old son in his arms. “Felix and I are doing our best to get everything done, but daddy needed to take a break to feed him because he got hungry.”

“Aren’t we all?” Erin questioned with a small laugh, gazing upon the presents that were before her. “I’m glad everyone is coming here this year just for dinner. Last year was nice, but home is so much more comfortable than being at the farm all that time.”  

“You’re not wrong and we’re lucky they are going home after dinner,” Beau piped in with a tiny snicker getting up from the floor. Heading over toward Negan, Beau grabbed Felix and held him closely to his chest. “Unlike last year where we had to spend days with everyone, at the end of tonight we get to kick all of them out of our apartment.”

“What are you trying to say?” Y/N smirked drawing Beau’s eyebrows to bounce up before he chuckled and started humming something to his little brother who was cooing out.  

“I’m saying I think we’re all going to be happier when it’s just us at the end of the night together on Christmas,” Beau answered as he made a silly face down at Felix who was staring up at him behind heavy eyelids. “I know you are getting close to your family again, but it’s still nice to have them leave. We have Christmas Eve with your family, they leave and then Christmas is for us. I think that will be nice. Don’t you?”

“I think Christmas alone with all of us will be wonderful,” she agreed with Beau, letting out an amused sound before pressing a kiss to his temple.

“He’s not wrong you know, it’s nice getting people to leave at the end of the day,” Negan commented when they all headed into the kitchen. Negan helped Erin into her seat where she stole one of the sugar cookies that they all had made together earlier. “I like when it’s just all of us together.”

“That’s my favorite too,” Y/N hummed, stepping forward to draw her finger down over the center of Negan’s chest. Tipping up on her toes, she brought their lips together which had Beau letting out an overwhelmed sound.

“We’ll be quick,” Negan promised his son with a wrinkle of his nose, hooking his arms loosely around Y/N’s hips. “It’s interesting how I predicted our future almost a year ago. Married with a young baby…”

“Anyone could have predicted the baby with how the two of you are,” Beau reminded them moving forward to hand Felix to Negan again carefully. Once he had Felix in his arms again, Negan headed over toward where Erin was sitting so that she could see her little brother. “I have to get the food out of the oven.”

“Hey,” Y/N called out motioning both Erin and Beau in so they could all do a group hug. “I love you all so much. I hope you know that.”

“And we love you too,” Negan hummed, pressing a lingering kiss over her cheek, enjoying the way that their little family still continued to love one another. “And we always will.”

----

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[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

OMG CAN YOU PLEASE DO DARYL AS A PARENT FIGURE???!!!?!! 😭😭😭

I HAVEN'T SEEN ANY LIKE THAT 😭

A/N: thank you so much for the idea!!! I hope this is okay!!! I was tempted to go full out and have him be an actual dad, but this’ll do for now. If you’d all like an actual story where Daryl’s a dad of the reader then please do lmk!! Also there are other Daryl father figure stories on my page so feel free to have a scroll!!<3

Synopsis: reader lost her family at the beginning of the apocalypse, she finally breaks and Daryl is there to comfort her.

Female! Reader x father figure! Daryl.

You were upset. Clearly. Like a ticking time bomb. You were staring down at the ground, the group had gone through a hell of a lot of shit to get to this point and the pain of losing people and seeing such blood shed welcomed in a new emotion for you. Pure agony. Agony that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The last time you felt it was when your family had been killed and turned into walkers. And losing all parental figures in one night was devastating.

“You good?” A voice came from the side and you glanced up seeing Daryl resting his shoulder against a tree crossbow hung over his other shoulder as he stared at you worriedly “I’m fine.” You murmured looking away from him, hearing him make a slight laughing sound as if he didn’t believe you “talk to me y/n…” he wasn’t one to ever push but he saw you were struggling. You remained quiet for a while just staring before you slowly looked at him before standing up “I lost my family… to the dead at the beginning of this shit show. They were ripped from me in an instant… sure my family wasn’t perfect but they all loved me and I loved them.” Daryl’s face contorted with sadness as he stared at you sadly. Oh how he wished he had a supportive family… he only really had Merle and the man was toxic as hell.

“I- I- seeing everything today it just brought back all the memories. Hearing my parents scream for mercy… seeing their blood… seeing how the dead ripped their faces off.” Tears were now streaming down your cheeks without you even realising as you let out a shaky breath. Daryl slowly got closer to you “I wanted to save them. I hated that I couldn’t save them… I- I- I needed to save them and it fucking kills me that I can’t go back and rescue them.. I should’ve done more… I- I needed to do more they needed me and I just stood there too scared and then I ran off and—“ your sobbing suddenly grew louder as then and there you broke in front of Daryl. He was the type you could trust. You wouldn’t of opened up like this to anyone else, maybe Rick, but Daryl was like a father to you. At the worst of times he kept you stable.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly “easy y/n.” He soothed holding you close to his chest. He rubbed up and down your back delicately “blaming yourself doesn’t get you anywhere.” He blamed himself over a lot of things so he understood but he knew it wouldn’t help anything. “Not your fault.” He spoke to you quietly as you sobbed into his chest, his grip on you was light at first before eventually he secured his grip on you tightening it as he pulled you impossibly closer “it’s okay…” You couldn’t focus though, only crying more as your hands weakly pushed against his chest, angry at yourself as weak cries continued leaving your lips Daryl keeping a protective hold on you, your hands continued hitting at his chest and he only held you closer to him “easy… breathe…” he soothed as softly as he could.

He dropped his free arm down momentarily so he could drop his crossbow down onto the floor before he pulled you closer to him again holding you tight “I miss my dad…. I miss my dad… I miss him so much.” Daryl’s heart broke for you and he held you closer, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head, his hand soon coming up to caress against the back of your head. “It’s okay.. it’s all going to be okay.. I’m here for you.” He didn’t dare let you go. You continued crying about missing your dad and he didn’t let go, he just held you, and as your sobbing eventually calmed down he pulled back slightly only to see you now clawing at his shirt to keep him there and he knew you needed him so he leaned in closer to you again.

“Your family would be so proud of you for how far you’ve come.” He murmured to you gently. “For killing people?” You murmured with a soft cry. “No.” He pulled back resting his hands against your shoulders “for surviving. We’ve all got to just survive somehow. Right? And you did just that…” he smiled warmly and you sniffled, before his hand came up to wipe against your cheek getting rid of the tears that lingered against your skin. “Look up.” He nodded up and you slowly glanced up at the dark night sky, twinkling stars shining down on you both. Daryl wasn’t the sentimental type to believe stars were lost loved ones but he could pretend for you… “they’re shining down on you always… proud and happy. Supporting you.” A small smile broke out on your face and you leaned into him, holding onto him tightly, “yeah…. Thank you… love you.” You murmured quietly without even thinking and he leaned down kissing your forehead. “Love you too sunshine.”