#way more painful than i thought it would be. seeing them all together

[formulawolff]

xv. everlong - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.0k

warnings: age gap relationship, team principal x driver relationship, cursing, marijuana use, alcohol use, toto being down bad per usual, light angst, toto is not the best person for a minute, mentions of divorce/separation, some lighttttt smut (the heavy smut will be included in the next chapter! promise!) oral (f! receiving), some realllll sweet n tender shit, yadayadayada

a/n: this chapter is probably one of my top five favorites, if not favorite chapter of this series. although it would be pretty hard to top chapter xii., i really enjoyed writing this one! to set the mood for the chapter, i have a few song recs to listen to as you read! please try to listen to them in order, as they really set the tone/vibe of golden girl x toto! <3 also, a huge shoutout to the anon who inspired me to write about gg x toto smoking together!! :)

little hell - city and colour

alkaline - sleep token

one way (feat. t-pain) - 6lack, t-pain

everlong - foo fighters

skin - mac miller

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˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“toto, tell me. are you in love with her?” 

yes, susie. i am. 

she is a divine being, bringing me to my knees at the sight of her. she is the sun, a bright, radiant beacon of light and warmth. her touch alone makes me weak. my mind is consumed with thoughts of her every waking second. i’ve been apart from her for so long, i can barely hold it together right now. 

the team principal inhales sharply, letting out a shaky breath, “i – i can’t answer that.”

“you are, aren’t you?” susie’s expression is unreadable, “you’re in love with her. if this was just some fuck you wouldn’t be acting this way.”

there it was again.

that pang of jealousy deeply interwoven in her fiery retort. 

“susie,” toto begins, scrambling for formulate some sort of coherent response, “i don’t know what to say or how to respond in a manner that will make this any more–”

“no,” she holds up a hand, “you do not have to explain yourself to me any further. i know you love that girl. you wouldn’t have let her pull that little stunt if you didn’t.”

“it wasn’t just some little stunt–”

“exactly,” susie shakes her head, tears glistening in the light, “it wasn’t just some publicity stunt to you. i could tell that you enjoyed that kiss, toto. you were practically making out with her for fuck’s sake.”

“susie,” toto rises to his feet, “we made an agreement, remember? we wanted this. both of us.”

“but that doesn’t mean i have to act like it doesn’t tear me apart seeing you with someone new. someone younger than me. someone who is far more beautiful than i ever will be. someone who can bear more children for you. someone who will–”

“susie, stop. cut that shit out right now.” 

“why?” she demands, whipping her head towards the team principal, “why are you so stone cold as i’m falling apart in front of you? why does this not bother you?”

“because,” toto coughs, clearing his throat, “i don’t love you anymore. that’s why. all of those feelings, they’re long gone. when i look at you, i don’t feel love. you’re one of my good friends, one of my business partners, and the mother of my children. i feel respect, and a deeply rooted companionship. but i just don’t feel love. not even an inkling.”

her eyes narrow, “oh, so i was wrong. you’re not just in love. you’re in deep.”

“and i’m not going to stand here and play childish little games,” the team principal scoffs, “you’ve never acted this way before, and i am not sure why this girl is bothering you so badly when i’ve mentioned other women in the past.”

susie’s lower lip curls into a sneer, “did it ever occur to you that this bothers me so much because i know her? because we were friends at one point? she has a relationship with the academy, toto. i’ve met with her several times. we’ve spoken on a regular basis at one point. it just feels wrong.”

“well,” toto shrugs, “she’s going to be around for a while, susie. you may want to get used to seeing her face around here.”

“you’re fucking ridiculous,” susie snarls, raising a pointed finger at the team principal, “you’ve been a terrible father lately. you’ve been a horrid team principal. and the worst part, you’ve completely lost it. ten years ago, you would have never put your reputation on the line like this.” 

the team principal remained silent as his former wife gathered her composure, cursing under her breath as she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, nearly stomping out of the office. the department surrounding his space probably eavesdropped on the entire heated exchange, but he didn’t care. 

after monaco, it seemed like he had less and less fucks to give these days. 

licking his lower lip, toto almost crashes down into his chair, collapsing as a groan rumbles in his chest.

so much for her taking that news well. 

and if he happened to marry this girl?

oh god. 

susie would probably have a conniption. fuck, she would probably ransack his entire office, defacing each and every one of his items. shit, she would even probably try to find a way to get him fired somehow. 

well, he didn’t entirely blame her. it wasn’t like he kept her in the loop about his personal life or romantic relationships. although they had a pretty amicable relationship after their separation, the subject of new love was always like rubbing salt in a wound.

a wound that toto thought had healed. but apparently not. her explosive outburst in the office reaffirmed that. 

there was a pang in his chest, squeezing in his heart as he hunched over the desk, burying his head in his arms. 

oh, how he missed his golden girl.

god, wasn’t that fucked up. 

his ex-wife of nearly a decade just basically professed she still harbored romantic feelings for him, and here he was, fretting as he yearned over his new love. 

he needed to see her, oh so badly. 

but how? although they were only approximately forty miles apart, it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of miles between them. it was more than likely due to the nature of their current situation, but it left him aching for one singular thing. 

her touch. 

fuck, he craved her touch. the light drag of her nails against his skin as her fingertips traced along his toned back and shoulder blades. the wisp of her hair as she buried her head into his chest. the ghost of her mouth of his as their bodies intertwined together. 

her presence alone was enough to send him spiraling. 

it wasn’t like they were forced to go their separate ways between monaco and montreal. it was just suggested heavily by their pr teams that they do so, just so that williams and mercedes could launch their own personal investigations in regards to their relationship. 

and for the time being, it appeared that things were all cleared. they had broken no rules. they didn’t breach any contracts. well, not entirely. mercedes, williams, and the fia did not need to know about the hours the two of you spent discussing your decision to join toto at mercedes. 

besides, they did not need to know that you were naked, basking in the warmth of him, body tangled with his when you made that decision. 

the official contract talks would have to be scheduled here soon. 

after all, toto was running out of time. 

he needed that second driver. 

and he had you. it wasn’t entirely official quite yet, but he knew he had you. 

time to start making things official then, huh? 

not like he had to really, you already did that for him in monaco.

plucking his phone off his desk, the team principal starts to type out a lengthy text message, swallowing the lump in his throat as his thumb hovers over the send icon. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“what are you feeling for dinner over there, eeyore?”

alex’s voice snaps you out of your zombie-esque trance, your head swiveling as you glance over your shoulder, “i’ll just eat a little bit from whatever you make. i’m not really hungry.”

“oh come on,” alex rolls his eyes, yelling from across the kitchen, “you have to eat something! fuck our diets right now. what do you want? i’ll literally make anything for you. i am begging you to eat something.”

“it’s rare for alex to beg,” a giggle sounds from your right, light and airy, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea though, to eat a little something.”

exhaling, your gaze falls on lily as she sits beside you, perched in the plush chair, “i’m just not that hungry.”

“is it because of everything going on?” lily cocks her head, reaching for her wine glass, “i mean, i can’t imagine what it must be like to be you right now. you have to focus on your racing, your diet, keeping up on social media. yet, you also have to factor in your parents, your briefings, and your personal life. it must be a lot, considering what happened in monaco. by the way, what did your parents think? were they shocked? happy for you?”

“well,” your eyes drift over to the ledge of the balcony, taking in the way the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon, “they weren’t necessarily jumping for joy that i happened to fall for a fifty-two year old man. i think they’ll feel a lot better once they meet him. toto has this charm that has draws you in. i’m sure he would win them over in a heartbeat.”

“just like he did with you?” lily teases, leaning over to prod you playfully, “you know, you could have just told me and alex about him. we would’ve kept things private for you!”

“i know,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “but there was just so much risk involved with telling people about it. and i was scared of how you guys would have reacted, what you would have said, or if you would have told james or the fia or–”

“hey,” lily places a tender hand on your shoulder, “we don’t always choose who we fall in love with. we can choose how we act on those feelings, but that is just ultimately something for the universe to decide. you just happened to fall for a devastatingly handsome, recently divorced team principal.”

“i heard that!” alex calls, earning an eye roll from lily.

“i’m just trying to help her feel better! we both know that man is gorgeous!” 

“i miss that gorgeous man,” you bring your knees to your chest, resting your chin between them, “i know we didn’t have to spend the brief break apart, but our media teams advised us to. you have no idea how badly i’m fighting the urge to just tell him to take the next flight to–”

yet, before you can finish your sentence, your phone vibrates on the table, notifying you that you had a new text message.

eagerly, you snatch it up, eyes scanning over the screen. 

i miss you, beautiful girl. i’m not sure where you are, but i am taking the next flight to monaco as soon as i possibly can. i should be there by tonight. could we rendezvous at my place? if you need me to pay for your own ticket, i will. just let me know.

“what did he say?” lily peers over your shoulder. 

“he’s coming to monaco,” your heart skips a beat as the realization washes over you, “wait, i’m already here! he’ll be here tonight! he wants me to meet him at his place.”

“well,” lily’s eyes glimmer, a bright smile enveloping her features, “looks like you need to eat, take a shower, and get ready missy! alex, will you start your shower for me?”

“i already heard the entire thing,” the driver tuts as he strolls onto the balcony, two plates in hand, “eat first, and then i’ll start a shower for you. from the sound of it, it seems like you’ll have a long night ahead, so you need to eat up before you get your guts rearranged.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks at his comment, “i – oh my god. you don’t know that for sure.”

“i think i do,” a smug paints his lips as he sets the plate down beside you, “there’s a reason why you’ve been so glowy and bubbly these last few weeks. i know you’re not smoking or doing any drugs, so there’s only one other thing i can think of.”

“i cannot stand you,” you mumble, sheer embarrassment taking hold. 

“and that’s why you’re sitting down,” alex lets out a chuckle, “don’t worry buttercup, the teasing is only going to get worse from here on out.”

although you were more than grateful for alex allowing you to stay with him in monaco between the two races, it did have it pitfalls. and that was one of them. ever since you told him about toto, the teasing was relentless. it was never malicious, always lighthearted. how an older brother would pester his younger sister. which, you didn’t mind. 

ever since the meeting with williams, your emotions had been nothing but a tumultuous torrent of anxiety, regret, and well, terror. 

you were terrified that toto was going to choose preserving his career over your relationship. after all, you couldn’t blame him. he was one of mercedes’ spearheads, one of the most respected and dominant forces among the paddocks in his role as ceo and team principal. 

he was a father as well, with three children whom he loved dearly. he was perceived as a family man, who often toted jack on his shoulders or brought him along with to races. additionally, you couldn’t shake the one thing that had been gnawing away at you, completely tearing you apart. 

what did susie think of you? what did she think of your relationship? was she going to try and win toto back? did she still have feelings for him? 

if they happened to meet in the time you were apart, what did she say? how did he respond? was he guilty somehow? was he going to admit to you that after seeing her, some emotions resurfaced?

god, your head was your own personal little hell. 

and who knew if you were ever going to crawl out.

however, deep in your heart, you knew that you needed to see him. you needed to tell him the very thing that had been clawing at the depths of your very conscience. 

you loved him. 

and he needed to know. 

and by god, you were determined to tell him.

well, it looked like tonight would be your perfect opportunity. 

time to prepare for the worst.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“go on, take another hit.”

your fingers pinch the rolled paper, bringing it to your mouth. lashes fluttering, you inhale, the harshness of the contents flooding your lungs, burning your throat. once you were satisfied with  the intake, you purse your lips, smoke billowing out. 

“good girl,” he hums, fingers squeezing your thigh, “i missed you, you know that?”

the corners of your lips curl into a blissful grin, “and i missed you. so much. more than you’ll ever know.”

the lights of monaco glitter in the distance, casting a soft glow over the ocean as the waves lap the shore, foam encasing the gritty shore. hints of tangerine poke out from above the horizon, promising of the sun’s arrival. the scent of marijuana lingers in the air as toto taps the joint against the tray, his brows knit together with concentration. 

above you, stars gleam, dotting the indigo hue that swathed the sky. all around, the mediterranean sea stretched for miles, the lights from various boats and yachts blinking, a gentle reminder that you were not alone.

although, you were in your own little world, utterly enamored and allured by the man beside you. 

toto arrived to monaco around eleven-thirty p.m., not arriving to his luxurious property until about midnight. although it was well later than you expected, you were bright-eyed and bushy tailed, oh so ready to reunite with the team principal. 

even though it was well past the hours he was normally up and about, he offered to take you on his yacht, where the two of you could just spend some time alone together. 

of course, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

especially when he mentioned that he had picked up a “special treat for his special girl.”

that treat was a tin of five pre-rolled joints, neatly packed together. the papers encasing them were oh so cute, a light blue with little fluffy, white clouds. the tin itself was to die for, with snoopy as the red baron, a cartoon bubble to his right stating, “up, up, and away!” 

his plug was definitely a woman, but you didn’t mind one bit. after all, with packaging that cute? how could you be upset? toto informed you that the tin was yours to keep, and he was more than happy to keep it filled for you. you just had to say the word, and he would contact his connection. 

smoking was probably the last thing you should be doing between races, but it wasn’t like the fia was testing the drivers regularly. even though the testing was random, toto informed you that once he got the word of any potential tests, he would find a way to let you know. 

you guys had already bent the rules enough, so why not bend them a little bit more?

“hey,” his is low, so gentle it was barely audible, “can i tell you something?”

he’s situated between your legs, spreading your thighs apart as you sit on the sundeck, the cool surface sending a shiver down your spine as it meets with heated skin. 

“of course,” you murmur, a hand connecting with his cheek, “what is it?”

“well for one, i want to fuck the shit out of you right now,” his eyes are glossy, pupils dilated as they hone in on you, “but i need to tell you something first.”

there’s a slight stubble as it grazes the pad of your thumb, his plush lips parting ever so slightly, “what is it, toto?”

he’s lowered now, his mouth hovering above your pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts the only barrier between his lips and sweet, sweet, relief. the relief he had been desperate for these last few days, pacing back and forth in his office as he attempted to maintain his composure. to keep it together. 

but here you were now, looking oh so breathtaking as the moonlight cascaded down, illuminating your skin with a beautiful silvery hue. 

you were a goddess.

 a truly divine being. the one he wanted to worship every single second, every single day for the rest of his life. the one who brought him to knees. the one who made him so utterly weak. 

he was in far too deep now, deeply lost and consumed by you. 

and god, he never wanted to go back.

even if he wanted tried, he knew he couldn’t.

and now, there was only you in this moment. 

drawing him in, coaxing him to fall even deeper. 

“i love you.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN is no longer the governess to Harry's children, but she is his wife (part 2)

author's note: part two of governess!yn (who is still my lil angel baby I cannot lie!) this took slightly longer than anticipated to get to you but i hope you will be happy with the final result! pls let me know what you think, and if there's anything else you'd like to see of these two (i'm certainly not ready to let them go just yet!)

word count: 14.1k of confusion, a lack of communication, friends to lovers, a meddling modiste who we all love, smut, pregnancy.

WARNINGS: discussion of death during childbirth, struggles with infertility (you have been warned)

let me know what you think of edelweiss here! mwah <3

YEAR FIVE

YN’s life had changed in ways that she never could have expected when she became a wife.

YN had never had an example of what a good marriage looked like growing up, and whilst she had worked for couples in the past – nothing could prepare her for the reality. The fact that her life had changed drastically from zero to one hundred within a few days was something that nobody could have prepared her for. It had been a true shift in the motion of her life, and even though it pained her to say – she did not know whether or not this was a welcome addition to her life.

Their wedding day had been a year ago. It took place in early June, which seemed very apt to their relationship. The first time that YN had joined Harry and the children for meals had been in June, and the summer held a very special place in their friendship – relationship? In all honesty, she did not know whether or not their marriage at this point was one of convenience or one that truly meant that something was between them.

As YN did not have a mother to talk her through life as a married woman, she was thankful for the information that she had managed to retain on her own in her life. Miss Francis had sat her down the day before her wedding and attempted to explain what a wedding night included, but YN had put a stop to that conversation immediately and tried to continue to assure the older woman that she knew what was to happen.

Even though YN knew what was to occur on the wedding night, it did not necessarily mean that the act would occur on the said night.

Harry had never attempted to initiate anything of an intimate context between the two of them. The last and only time that they had ever kissed had been on their wedding day, a necessity to ensure that their marriage was fulfilled. Even once they had returned home, she had received no advancements from Harry at all – and had concluded pretty quickly that maybe he did not wish to share this with her. YN knew that this was not completely shocking, seeing as though she was Harry’s second wife, and he had already experienced this before.

There was also a part of her that knew that men had needs. She had come to this conclusion pretty quickly after the husband at the other house she worked at left every night without fail to meet with his mistress (or mistresses, as YN had no idea about the fine details) and yet she could state with full confidence that Harry had never done so. She knew this with such confidence because they spent every evening together (with a considerable amount of space between the two of them obviously) before they retired to bed.

YN would be lying if she said that she had hoped that her marriage to Harry would offer some clarification on what it was she was feeling. She had spent so long denying her wish for marriage, and she thought that once that wish had been fulfilled everything would be put into some sort of perspective for her. Instead, it had confused and worried her more than it had before. The overwhelming, thought-provoking idea that ran through her head most days was that Harry had married YN just to appease her, to be a good friend and that was it. It made her think that Harry (no matter how many times he verbally denied it to her) did not wish for this.

It was not as though Harry required an heir to his estate – he already had one. That normally looming requirement of marriage was gone for him. YN was three and thirty now, and that could offer little in security as to whether she could have children, and with that gone she could not understand why Harry wanted to marry her. If anything, the only reason a man in Harry’s standing would marry was to ease a loneliness he had.

At first, Noah and Honorah had been confused as to why YN was no longer their governess, and instead their mother. YN had assured both of the children immediately that she could never take away their mother from them, and if they wished to continue to call her Miss YN, they could do so without any worries at all. Noah, who stood at ten when they married had huffed and refused to speak to his father or YN for the first few weeks (something that was inherently a trait of Harry’s, but YN would never outwardly tell him that). Norah, however, had only been seven at the time and saw the whole spectacle as something so exciting and had welcomed the change with open arms. YN assumed that since she had never met her mother, YN had been the closest thing to one for her – and she assumed that would be something difficult for both Harry and Noah to accept.

Even though these questions of intimacy usually loomed in the back of YN’s mind most days, along with questions of how the children were faring with the change. But, thankfully, her ole had changed within the household, and she now had duties as Mrs Styles that often took her attention throughout most of the day. The most prevalent job that took up most of her time now involved the children, and more specifically – finding a new governess for them.

To the blind eye, the task on the surface seemed so simple – but in reality, it was not. In the past year, the children (predominantly Noah) had managed to run four governesses out of the door – with the longest of them lasting two and a half weeks.

That was how YN had found herself now – sitting in the drawing room with the fifth governess she had hired who had lasted all of three days.

“… I am sorry, Mrs Styles, but they are terrors. The little boy placed a frog not only on my chair but in every drawer of my desk! And the little girl, well, she listens to everything the boy says and responds to all of my questions by ribbiting like a frog! They are completely unteachable!” Miss Morris exclaims, and YN has to physically refrain herself from rolling her eyes.

“And yet I managed to do it for four years,” YN mumbled quietly whilst running her finger across her eyebrow.

Miss Morris leant forward slightly in her seat, turning her ear towards YN, “Sorry, what was that Mrs Styles?”

“Nothing,” YN shook her head, offering a small smile to Miss Morris, “I do just have to remind you, Miss Morris, that they are children. They are not going to be easy to work with. Mr Styles has raised gorgeous, inquisitive and at times mischievous children – but they are no worse than any you may find with another family.”

Miss Morris shook her head, rather violently at that, “You are only saying such as they are your children – you see them through rose-tinted glasses. They are nothing but terrors, unteachable terrors!”

YN sighed before standing up, nodding at Miss Morris to do the same, “Very well then, Miss Morris. If you had not already claimed that you could not teach the children, you would lose your employment just by calling them terrors. You may have the night to arrange your leave, but you shall not interact with the children.”

Miss Morris opened her mouth as though she was to speak but YN shook her head.

“I would not say anything else if I were you,” YN spoke with a nod.

Miss Morris took one last look at YN, nodded, and turned to leave the room. It was not until YN knew that she was in the all-clear that she sighed and dropped back down on the settee again, exhaling a breath that she did not know she had been holding.

The list of once four failed governesses had now turned to five. Somewhere deep down YN knew this would be the case. It was not that she was necessarily full of herself, but more so that she knew she was the best of the best in terms of governesses. No matter who she presented in front of the children, and whether or not they were good governesses or not – they would never be able to help the children in the way that she did. That was the dilemma that YN found herself in day after day.

The sound of footsteps walking towards the room, and subsequently entering knocked YN right out of her daydream, or potentially it was a crisis – she would never know.

“I think Miss Morris just grunted at me,” Harry spoke, pointing back at the door with a confused look on his face.

YN sighed once more, running a hand across her face, “She can grunt all she wants, Harry! She is out of this house by morning.”

“Oh,” Harry sighed, dropping down on the settee across from her, “She quit?”

YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “And I fired her. She dared to call the children terrors. Terrors, Harry! I was a moment away from doing something so regrettable I probably would have been sent away!”

Harry laughed with a slight shake of his head, “I told you there was no use in trying to find a new governess.”

“The children still need to be taught, Harry,” YN pointed out, as though she was stating the obvious.

“And you can do it,” Harry shrugged, as though he was the one stating the most obvious thing in the world, “I know that is not necessarily the way that things are done, but when have we ever done things that way?”

A smile taunted on YN’s face, “You would not mind? Having a wife that does not follow the correct rules of society?”

Harry just laughed, “If I cared about the correct rules in society then you would not be my wife.”

YN finally smiled and nodded her head, “I will teach them – God knows that nobody will ever be as good as me.”

“That is certainly more like it,” Harry nodded his head and stood up, “I did have something to tell you before Miss Morris grunted at me. I am going out tonight, a friend of mine is back from a trip abroad. We are meeting at the tavern for a few drinks.”

“Oh,” YN’s heart pummelled to the pit of her stomach, “The tavern?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” YN assured quickly, trying her best to not make the twist in her stomach obvious to Harry, “I hope you have a lovely time.”

Harry nodded, the confused look returning to his features one last time before he offered her another smile and left the room. YN had seen the tavern but had never been inside. She had only ever seen it on her trips into the village. She also knew of its reputation, although she would not say that she wanted to. Those back rooms, and what they held were the thing that concerned her, she supposed.

More than anything, it turned her stomach so much she was unsure how she did not throw up. 

No matter how much she tried, YN could not sleep a wink.

The children had gone to bed hours ago, and surprisingly (to YN’s relief) without any stress. Her body, however, could not accept that relief due to how stressed she was currently feeling.

YN had tried counting sheep, and she had tried running through everything she had planned for tomorrow in her head, but she just could not shake the thoughts out of her head.

She could not shake the thoughts out of her head of everything that Harry was getting up to during his visit to the tavern.

Before, when YN knew that Harry was inside the four walls of this house and could therefore not be doing the things that YN was imagining in her head – there was no cause for her to worry. It was all fine before because she knew that whilst he was not being intimate with her, he was not with anyone else.

YN could not say that now because she did not know if it was true.

It was something that the two of them never spoke about – they never mentioned it. They both danced around the subject as though it was an open flame, neither one of them attempting to get closer to it. YN was truly regretting that now. At least if they had the conversation, if she had forced them to discuss this then she would have some peace of mind at least. Then again, she cannot imagine knowing he was doing such things would offer her any piece of mind.

After failing to succumb to sleep, YN had ended up wrapping herself in a blanket in Harry’s study, one of his books pressed firmly in her hand. She would say that she was reading it, but she had read the last sentence around twenty times and still not managed to finish it.

Then the door opened.

Harry’s head was lulled forward, his posture slightly hunched and his movements sporadic. He was drunk. Without even thinking about it, her eyes danced around his body attempting to see if there were any creases in his clothes that had not been there before he left. 

There was not, and for the first time that entire evening her heart slowed down to a normal pace.

“I saw the light,” He offered her a boyish grin, “I wondered who was sneaking around at this time – I should have known it was you.”

YN sighed in relief, dropping the book closed in her lap, “You are drunk.”

Harry nodded, not even trying to attempt to hide it. His body stumbled towards the other end of the settee from where she was. YN lifted her hand to her head when she watched him nearly fall off, but he caught himself thankfully before there was any need for her to intervene.

“Have I ever told you that you just might be the smartest person I have ever known?” He raised his eyebrow at her, a teasing look on his face.

YN gasped, immediately picking up the book in her lap to smack him on the shoulder with, “I should have known you were such a tease whilst drunk.”

Harry began to laugh, and no matter how much YN tried to resist it she could not help but join in. YN thought that she had seen all the sides to Harry, and yet there were ones that she was learning about every day.

“How was reuniting with your friend?” YN asked, watching as his head lulled back against the settee, dropping to the side slightly so that he was looking at her, “I suppose that is possibly a silly question given the state you are currently in.”

Harry nodded his head, “It was very enjoyable, although I suppose his constant discussion of beaches across the world did need to be taken hand in hand with a drink the further into the night we were.”

YN laughed, “I cannot ever imagine you not being interested in a conversation, Harry.”

He shook his head, leaning towards her slightly, “I was interested! The first time! It was just my luck that every time William had a drink it was as though his memory was wiped and he did not know he had already told me all of it before!”

YN did end up in a fit of laughter at his words. There was an ounce or so of further relief that she felt in that laugh, knowing that the stress she had found herself in was for no reason. It was nice to know that he had not withheld the truth from her – even though she was damning herself for even thinking that he would lie to her.

“It sounds as though you had quite the eventful night, then,” YN leant forward to place the book on the table in front of them before standing up, “Are you able to get yourself to your bedchamber, or are you staying here for the night?”

Harry grunted slightly, his head rolling to the side slightly to look out of the window behind him.

“What was that?” YN pressed, inching a step closer towards him, “You will have to use your words, Harry, I do not speak in grunt.”

“I do not wish to go to bed,” Harry mumbled with a shake of his head, “I do not wish to go to bed because the bed will be cold, and empty and you will be down the hall.”

YN’s lips parted slightly in shock. She knew that Harry was drunk, and therefore his inhibitions were lowered but there must have still been an aspect to it that was the truth. There was a slight part of her that was slightly annoyed by his words. She was annoyed that it had taken him a year into their marriage, on a night when he was drunk to say anything of this sort to her.

YN shook her head, “Harry, you must go to bed and sleep this off.”

“No, we do not have to go to bed,” He reached out to grab her hands, pulling her closer to him, “We can stay here, and we can talk, and you can sit next to me.”

“We cannot,” YN shook her head, unable to stop the pull he had on her, “We must sleep, otherwise we will not get anything done tomorrow.”

“That is fine, YN, we can have a day.” Harry nodded his head, “We could… we could just… we could be together tonight and tomorrow, and it would not matter.”

YN sighs, and she attempts to take a step backwards, but Harry instead wraps his arm around her waist. He rests his head against her stomach, and she can feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her nightgown. The feeling itself was like pinpricks across the expanse of her skin.

YN did not know what to do – she did not know what to think. Instead of trying to pull away from him (which was impossible due to how tightly he had wrapped himself around her), and against her better judgment – she gave in to him. This was the closest that they had physically been to each other since their wedding day, and she knew it was wrong but there was a part of her that did not want this to end just yet.

Instead of pulling away, her fingers found their way through his hair until they were resting in the curls at the nape of his neck.

He sighed against her stomach, causing heat to rush over her skin that she had never experienced in her life. If this is what she was missing out on, she was cursing herself for not forcing them to have a conversation. She supposed that Harry’s behaviour tonight had made it so they had no choice in the matter.

“Harry,” YN whispered, bringing her hands from the nape of his neck towards his cheeks so that she could pull his face away from her and look at him, “Let us go to bed.”

“No,” He shook his head again, “I told you; I do not want to.”

“Harry,” YN sighed, running her finger across the skin of his cheekbone, “You are not listening to me – let us go to bed.”

When YN woke up the next morning, everything felt different.

This was still her room. There were still her curtains hanging above the windows, her bed she was laid upon and still her books that rested upon every shelf in the room – but things were different.

YN often woke up when the light started to seep through the crack in her curtains, and today was no different. This time, however, she was not alone in doing so.

Her entire body felt warm. There was an excess of heat covering her from behind, an arm wrapped so tightly around her waist making it so even if she wanted to escape – there was no way in which she would be able to. Harry’s head pressed firmly into her neck, his steady breathing causing goosebumps to cover her entire body.

Last night, after Harry had finally registered the words that YN was saying – he had allowed her to direct him to her bedchamber. She had tried not to, but she had been unable to redirect her eyes when he had stripped off his jacket, shirt, and trousers before climbing into her bed. They did not talk, only looked at one another. They had settled into bed for the first time since their wedding day a year ago together, without a single conversation as to why between them. Harry had pulled YN’s body close to his, and they had fallen asleep – and that was it.  

YN knew that it was early in the morning, and Harry would probably need a few more hours or so to sleep off the remnants of last night – but there was no way that YN would manage to fall back asleep. YN tried to pull Harry’s arm off of her, but he grunted slightly, and his arm felt even tighter than it had done before.

YN sighed, unable to do anything but move slightly so that she was on her back and could face Harry. There was something so boyish about his features when he was asleep. It was as though all the stress of being an adult left him the second he was asleep, and YN felt a sort of privilege that she was able to witness him in this state.

It was this that caused YN to lift her hand and run her finger along the soft skin of his cheek – just in the way that she had done last night. Her body jumped slightly in his arms when his eyes opened. This was, in fact, the closest she had ever been to him – and the fact that she could see those green eyes of his looking so closely caused her stomach to somersault.

“It is too early,” He whispered hoarsely to her, “Go back to sleep.”

YN chuckled slightly, her fingers slipping back through his hair, “The children will be awake soon.”

“And we have a staff willing and ready to help with them,” He mumbled, dropping his head further into her neck, “Go back to sleep.”

YN lightly shook her head again, “Even if I tried, I highly doubt it would be possible. Even so, the children have missed out on so much learning these last few months – and I am excited to get them back into a classroom.”

“Another day is not going to harm them,” YN could feel Harry’s lips moving against her neck as he spoke, and then they closed, and he left the lightest of kisses on her skin.

“Harry…” YN whispered, her head pulling away from his slightly so that she could look into his eyes, “What are you doing?”

Harry sighed, his head lulling backwards so that he was laid on his back, just as she was. Whilst they needed to have this conversation, there was a part of her that wondered whether or not being laid in her bed, with Harry possibly having what YN would deem as a slightly delicate condition was the best place for this.

“I…” Harry sighed, lifting his hand to his forehead, “I do not know.”

YN’s breath caught slightly in her throat, “You do not know?”

“I do know, but I do not want to offend or upset you,” Harry sighs, turning his head so that he is looking at her again.

YN sighed, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Whatever it is, you must tell me, Harry. I am your wife; you can tell me anything.”

Harry lifted their joint hands to his lips so that he could place a kiss on the back of her hand, “I understand that when we married, we did so for ease. It was the best thing for us both at that time, and I understand that you may not feel the same but…”

His words stopped, and his eyes dropped down to her lips, lingering for just a moment before they bounced back up to her eyes.

“I may not feel the same how, Harry?”

Harry hesitated for a second, “That I feel as though my affections for you have grown.”

“Harry…” YN whispered, shaking her head lightly, “You cannot… You cannot say such words to me if you do not mean it…”

“I do,” Harry nodded, “I do mean it. I have meant it for a while now, but I never dared to say so. It seemed that all I needed was some liquid courage, and I could not stop myself.”

YN chuckled, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his, “You should not have been scared to speak your mind, Harry.”

“What?” He whispered.

“You should not have been scared to speak your mind because then you would have found out that I feel the same.”

Harry’s face broke out into a smile, and it was quickly after that YN’s followed. He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. It was then that her heart rate began to speed up – when his face started itching closer to hers. Just as she thought that Harry was going to place his lips against hers, the door to YN’s room burst open.

YN pulled her body away from Harry’s, lifting slightly to see Honorah bouncing towards them – still in her nightgown and having obviously just woken up.

“What is it, Norah?” YN smiled at the little girl, watching as she pulled herself up onto YN’s bed.

“I went to Papa’s room, but he was not there, so I came here to find you and I found Papa too!” The little girl smiled, crawling up the bed so that she could drop down between YN and Harry at the top.

“You found us,” Harry mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his little girl’s head as she cuddled up to him, “How did you sleep?”

Honorah nodded her head, “Very well. I dreamt of horses, and I have decided I quite like them.”

YN chuckled, “That sounds lovely, Norah. We shall have to take you to the stables at some point to visit the horses.”

“Really?” Her entire face broke out into a beaming smile, and she began to tell her father all about the horse in her dream.

As much as it had pained her to admit it before, this is exactly what YN had imagined mornings being married to Harry would be like. Lazing in bed with him, before being interrupted by the children and forcing them to begin their day sounding like complete and utter bliss. YN’s could not have been fuller than it was right now, but then she slowly realised that was not the case when the final part of the puzzle walked through the door.

“Good morning, Noah,” YN smiled, holding her hand out to the boy, “Norah was just telling us about her dream, do you wish to join us?”

The boy seemed to hesitate for a second before nodding, reaching out to grab YN’s hand and make his way onto the bed.

“Only for a little while, though,” He nodded with a shrug, “I am ready to break my fast.”

YN laughed, watching as Noah joined Harry and Norah in their conversation. To YN, it was at this moment that she truly felt as though she was a wife. That she was Harry’s wife.

YEAR SIX

Just as YN thought that one part of the puzzle that was her life had been laid to rest, another part reared its head to her.

YN wished for children.

Just as it was with the idea of marriage, in the past, she had been fine with pushing that thought out of her head and coming to terms with the fact that it was just not her fate. When she thought she was to spend her days as nothing more than a governess, the mere thought of children of her own was laughable.

Now that she was a wife, it was no longer laughable – and she wanted more.

YN knew how children were conceived, and she knew that with the amount that YN and Harry had been doing that act, there was a chance that she could be pregnant, and yet (just as it had been before) neither one spoke of it. YN was beginning to be infuriated by it.

“You know,” Harry spoke from the side of her as they lay in his bed, “To read a book, you have to look at the words on the page.”

YN had not even noticed that she had stopped reading the book she had in her hand and instead was staring above the words and at the rest of the room. YN sighed and closed the book, dropping it down with a slight thud on the bedside table next to her.

“I guess I am just not in the mood to read,” YN sighed, slipping down so that her head was on the pillow, and she could bring the covers up and over her body.

“That is not like you,” Harry turned to face her, a slight smirk settling over his features, “Are you in the mood for something else?”  

YN rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “Of course you would think that. No, Harry, I am just not in the mood to read.”  

“Since when can a book not capture your attention?” He reached over and placed a finger upon her cheek, lighting and tapping the skin so she would turn and face him, “Some may say I can read you like a book… what is wrong?”

YN turned upon her side, slipping her arm underneath her head as she stared at Harry, those eyes of his offering her an ounce of comfort at a time in which her mind was filled with different thoughts.

“Do you ever… do you ever think about having another child? With me?”

Harry went silent, his eyes squinting slightly before he turned away from YN. Her heart dropped and the comfort that had been there immediately disappeared the second that his eyes were not on her.

“I… I do not know,” Harry spoke after a second or so.

YN’s breath caught slightly, “You do not know?”

“I do not know,” Harry slightly tipped his head at her, “I have not ever thought about it.”

YN turned once more so that she was facing the ceiling, not wanting his face to be in her eyeline anymore. Whilst she had spent days, maybe even weeks or possibly months thinking upon this topic, imagining all of the possibilities of how this conversation would take place – she had never allowed herself to think upon this as one of them.

She supposed in part that was her fault – for allowing her thoughts to run away with her without any true evidence.

“I am sorry, I should not have brought the topic up,” YN spoke after a few minutes or so, before deciding that it was probably time to leave it altogether. She quickly pulled the covers off her, “I shall retire to my room tonight, I think.”  

“No,” Harry reached to grab her hand before she could stand up, “You do not have to do that.”

YN shook her head and pulled her hand out of his, “I just wish for a moment alone.”

YN stood up, reaching over for her gown to wrap around her body. She turned and saw Harry still lying in bed, this time with his hand over his face. It did not seem as though he was going to say anything, so she took that as her cue to leave the room.

Just as YN was about to reach for the door handle, Harry stopped her, “I cannot see you go through that.”

YN stopped her movements and turned to face him, “What?”

“I have witnessed first-hand what pregnancy can do to a woman,” Harry sat up, pulling the covers off his body, and moving towards the edge of the bed, “I cannot… I will not let you go through that.”

It all made sense to her now. The reason Harry had never even thought about it. She was ashamed of herself that she had not even thought of it. He had lost his first wife during childbirth, and he was afraid of the same for her.

“Harry…” YN took a step closer to him, watching as his slightly glassy eyes met hers.

“I know that you love the children, you truly do,” Harry spoke, “Are they not enough?”

YN was slightly taken aback by that question, and in turn, she ended up taking a step away from him, “I cannot believe you would say such a thing.”

Harry sighed, his head dropping forward slightly as he rested his hands upon his knees, “I am only saying what is the truth.”

“No, what you are saying is an excuse – what you are saying is nothing more than offensive,” YN shook her head, “I understand your worries, Harry, I truly do but what I cannot understand is you ever saying that Noah and Honorah are not enough for me!”

Harry sighed, his eyes failing to meet hers, “I apologise, YN, I should have never said such things.”

“No,” YN quickly retorted, “You should not have said such things, and yet you have! I only wished to discuss the topic with you Harry and I would never do a thing that you do not wish to do.”

Harry nodded, finally meeting her eyes again, “I understand, I apologise again.”

“We share the love of two beautiful children, Harry,” YN sighed, unable to comprehend why she was even having to explain the love she held for the children, “I apologise for wanting to just share our love in a child of our own.”

Harry gasped, and YN was shocked herself that those words had left her lips. Whilst YN had felt that feeling, love, for Harry for longer than she could put a timeline on – they had never said those words. If the conversation surrounding children had not caused animosity between the two of them, she worried if he did not return the favour that this certainly would. It was their cycle, one that no matter how much they attempted to change – YN feared they never would.

Harry did not say anything, and instead stood up and walked towards her. YN worried as to what it could be that he would say to her, or if he would indeed just walk past her altogether. Instead, he reached for her hands.

“Of course, I wish that we could share… share our love with a child but…” Harry shook his head, “I cannot lose you, YN. I love you too much. I need you too much. I fear, well, I would not be able to go on if anything were to happen to you.”

YN just sighed, taking a step forward to wrap her arms around his waist, her head falling upon his bare chest, “You will not lose me, Harry.”

“You do not know that,” He muttered against her hairline, “You cannot promise me that.”

“I know I cannot,” YN pulled away, looking up at those green eyes of his, “But… your fear, Harry, and whilst I am not diminishing it could also not be the case.”

Harry sighed, “I love you so much, YN.”

“Then, please,” YN rested her hand upon his cheek, “Think about it.”

Harry leaned down, placing the lightest of kisses upon her lips, “For you… I will.”

After quite a struggle, YN had just managed to get the children down and in bed, both of them deciding today was the day that they did not need a bedtime – and that they were both, in fact, too grown up for a bedtime.

Once she had finally managed to wrangle them into their beds, she wanted nothing more than to drop into bed with her husband and sleep the day off. The only problem was when she walked into their bedchamber – he was nowhere to be found.  She set off throughout the house, looking at all of the different spots she usually found him in. It was not until she spotted a light coming from underneath the door to his study that a small smile crossed her face.

The door was slightly ajar, almost as though he had left it slightly open in hopes that she would find him. She stepped into the room and saw him sitting at his desk, with his books open on the desk in front of him. She knew that he had to be busy to still be working.

Harry had his eyes down, resting his head against his hands. He seemed stressed. YN leaned against the door, a small smile crossing her lips as she watched him. 

“If you continue to furrow your eyebrows like that they will stay that way,” YN joked, watching as his eyes lifted to her.

YN watched as the furrow in his eyebrow ceased, and his chest emptied the air that he had been holding in. It was as though all of the stress in his body had dissipated the second that he saw him in the room. She had not seen him all day, and whilst she had missed him – it was evident just by the look on his face now that he had missed her too.

“Forever jesting,” Harry smiled, leaning back in his chair.

YN shrugged, “You married me for a reason.”

“That I did,” Harry sighed. He held his hands out, beckoning her to come closer to him. YN walked towards him, placing her hands in his and accepting his invitation to sit on his lap, “How are the children?”

YN groaned, dropping her head back slightly, “They have decided that they do not need a bedtime anymore. That they are old enough to go to bed whenever they decide it is time.”

Harry’s body shook with laughter slightly, “I fear the older Noah gets, the more difficult he will become.”

“It certainly seems that way,” YN smiled, her fingers threading through those curls at the nape of his neck, “Are you coming to bed anytime soon?”

Harry sighed, pursing his lips slightly, “I can certainly be persuaded to come to bed.”

YN rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Harry’s words, “I should have known that was going to be your motive.”

Harry’s hands found their place on YN’s waist, his thumb itching ever so closer to the swell of her breast, “I do not know what you mean.”

“You have that glint in your eyes,” YN noted, pulling back from him slightly, “The one you have when you are scheming something.”

“No schemes here,” Harry shook his head, holding his arms up in surrender, “It is just if I am not mistaken… the best time of the month.”

YN could not help the pull of her cheeks that his words caused. It was one thing that YN had noticed very quickly about Harry, even more so when their relationship had turned into what it is now – he remembered everything. Everything that YN told him that was of some sort of importance, he remembered. Even if it was not of much importance, just a tiny, small thing that YN had mentioned in passing, he remembered. It was probably one of the things that YN found the most endearing about Harry. 

When YN and Harry had their conversation about children, it had taken him a few weeks to come to terms with her request. She had left him to think about it and assured her that if anything were to happen, he would be prepared. He would make sure the greatest doctors were at their beck and call the second that anything seemed wrong, and he would ensure her safety at every point. With these in mind, he had decided to oblige her request.

But, when YN saw Harry’s smug expression there was a part of her that knew that at this point, he had no qualms with what she had asked.

“Well, then,” YN smiled, “Since it is the best time of the month, shall we retire upstairs?”

“I was thinking that the best course of action was to shut the door,” YN bit her lip, attempting to suppress her smile but it was no use. She immediately clambered off his lap to shut the door to the room that they were in.

When YN turned back around from the door, Harry had moved so that he was leaning against the front of his desk. For a moment, she just stared at him. She was unable to control the wave of desire that rushed over her body just at the sight of him. It was crazy to believe that just over a year ago they had not slept in each other’s bed and that these feelings had not yet reached the surface. Now, YN could not sleep without Harry beside her.

YN attempted to not think of the past, and instead, she was to focus on the future.

YN took light steps towards him, not stopping until she was in between his open legs. It was then that he almost pounced on her. With such rigour, he dropped his lips down to hers so that their faces all but smashed together, but YN did not mind. Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer to her if that was possible.

“YN,” Harry mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her waist until they rested in the small of her back.

It was not long before their hands were pulling the clothes off their bodies piece by piece. Harry was especially skilled at unlacing a corset, something that made their recent penchant for these activities all the easier to complete. There was something about the comfortability with their movements, the ease, that YN had both longed for and never thought would be a possibility. It was now that they knew the ins and outs of each other, they knew what made each other tick more than anyone else in this world.

Their movements quickened in their speed, and Harry’s body fell back slightly. YN ignored the sound of the items that had once lined Harry’s desk falling to the floor. YN would be lying if she said that this had not happened once or twice in this room and that they did not know the logistics of it. She would be lying even more so if she said that they did not know the logistics of most of the rooms in the house.

Harry’s lips slipped from hers and across her cheek, placing light kisses until they reached her neck. Harry was completely, and utterly obsessed with her neck. He always put the most kisses on the skin between her neck and her collarbone, when they were in bed that was where his head was always placed. The one that excited YN the most was always when they were in public, and Harry pushed her hair off her neck. His fingertips would always linger there, and the touch was always ever so light that it would set her skin alight.

It was always tough work to get him off her neck once he was there, but a tug on the curls at the nape of his neck was always enough to pull him off her and elicit the lightest of moans from his lips. His hands moved down and came to rest at the seam of her chemise, pushing the lace up ever so slightly so that his fingers could rest on the skin of her thighs. His fingertips scratched her skin lightly, causing her to moan into his mouth.

YN pulled away from him slightly so that she could help him unfasten his trousers and pull them swiftly down his legs.

“Eager?” He mumbled against her lips again, his hands pushing her chemise up until they were resting upon her waist.

YN shook her head, “Not eager, just fed up with your constant teasing.”

Harry did not reply. Instead, he picked her up and switched their positions. She landed on the desk with a slight thud, eliciting a moan from her lips. Harry wasted no time in slipping his fingers underneath the thin strap of her chemise, allowing it to fall from her shoulder and expose her chest to him. As the material fell, Harry purposefully slowed his movements so that the soft material rubbed against her pert nipples. To her, it was truly as though he knew her exact strings to pull.  

“You are teasing again,” YN mumbled, pulling away from him slightly in hopes that he would stop the teasing. She should have known better.

His hands grasped at her waist, his fingers setting her skin on fire. He pulled her towards the edge of the desk so that his lips could attach to her nipple. YN gasped, her back arching towards Harry’s body.

He pulled away, his chin resting on the exposed skin of her chest, “You knew what I was like when you married me.”

YN shook her head, wrapping her legs around his body to pull him closer to her, “Not in this capacity I did not.”

Harry laughed, placing a kiss on her skin once more before his lips caught her nipple again. His hands ran up the exposed skin of her thigh once more, pushing it all the way up to her waist until she was exposed to him. His eyes locked with hers again, the slight darkness in them causing a shiver to run across YN’s body and pool in the pit of her stomach.

His assault moved downwards until he was face to face with her. He gripped the skin of her thighs, pulling his legs upwards until they were resting upon his shoulders. She bit her lip in an attempt to conceal the illicit sounds that threatened to escape them. There was nothing that could have helped her when his head lurched forward, his mouth attaching to her immediately.

“God, Harry…” Her body fell backwards, her chest rising up and down at a record speed as he continued his movements.

The mix of continuous flicks of his tongue against her clit, mixed with the suction his lips provided brought her closer and closer to the edge within minutes. YN also wondered if there was a part to play in that in how much she had thought about this throughout the day. It was as though she had been shown something, and now her entire thoughts were consumed by it day by day.

With each second she could feel herself getting closer, and her hands found themselves attached to his hair. Her breathing quickened, and her chest rose and fell at an exasperated rate.

Then it stopped.

YN could not help the moan that passed her lips at the loss of contact, tears brimming against her waterline. She watched as Harry wasted no time in lifting his body back up to her, his lips dropping against hers once more.

“You are cruel,” She mumbled against his lips, feeling the smirk that crossed his features, “You are cruel, and you are mean.”

“I am not cruel and mean,” He responded, his hand moving between them to pull himself out. He gave his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with her, “That is just not the purpose of the best time of the month, is it?”

“It could be, but you…” YN’s words were interrupted by Harry pushing himself into her. YN gasped, her nails digging into the skin of his exposed back, “Oh, god!”

The first time that they had sex was the night of the morning they had been interrupted. YN knew that if it was not for the children, it would have probably happened then. They had spent the entire day exchanging what can only be called longing and intoxicating looks at one another. In part, it felt like both pleasure and torture. YN had been slightly nervous, she would not lie, but Harry had made her feel like the most beautiful woman on this earth. He had not rushed her, he had made her feel comfortable the entire time and most importantly, he had reassured her time and time again that they were doing this together. That this was them showing their affection for each other, in a way that two people could.

All of their sex was not like this. More often than not it was sloppy, and it was rushed, and it was in the five minutes spare they had within the day when nobody from the estate or the children wanted them. If it was not rushed, it was often very slow and sleepy – but in a different remark still sloppy.

“Oh, Harry,” YN’s hands ran down his back towards the curve of his bum, where she pressed her hands against the flesh in hopes of pushing him deeper into her.

Harry groaned against her lips, “This is what you wanted, yes? You were wanting me to fill you up?”

“It was,” YN responded, gasping when he hit that particular spot inside of her that caused her to tighten around him. His hips never stopped their assault on her, and she did not want him to. The second that he slipped his hand between their bodies to rub his thumb against her clit, she was right back to where she had been minutes prior.

Harry’s head dropped into the nape of her neck, resting there whilst he continued to move his hips faster and faster against hers. YN had tried her best to match his pace, but she could not. It was as though she could not control her body when she was with him. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would be the one to get her there.

YN’s entire body went rigid, her mouth parting as a string of moans mixed with calls of Harry’s name left her lips as she orgasmed, Harry’s following just after hers. Their chest, pressed close to one another, were heaving in sync, their breaths ragged but smiles still dancing across both of their lips.

Harry pulled out of her gently and helped her clean herself up, pulling her chemise back on so it was not revealing her in such a promiscuous way. YN laughed, accepting a kiss from Harry when he offered her a hand to help her off the table.

“Do you think it worked this time?” YN asked, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.

“We can hope,” Harry nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “But we will not be disheartened if it has not, yes?”

“Yes,” YN nodded, saying the words as though she was trying to convince herself that they were true.

“Let us go to bed,” Harry nodded, reaching his hand out for her.

YN laughed, “We must dress first, imagine if we are to pass any of the staff in this state!”

“They have seen much worse. Now…” Harry dropped down, wrapping his arm around her legs and hoisted her up into his arms, “Let us go to bed… we can tidy in the morning.”

YN just laughed, allowing him to carry her to their room.

YN had been sitting on a blanket in the garden with Noah and Norah when it happened.

When she awoke that morning, she had certainly felt strange. YN had attempted to ignore it, to push the feeling so far down that it would not affect her day. There were things in life that YN could face head-on, with no worries about the consequences. This was something that she could not do. This broke her heart.

YN had smiled at the maid that was in the garden with them, giving her a look to instruct her to look after the children whilst she rushed inside.

She had stripped herself of her ruined clothes as quickly as she could, ordered a bath to be drawn and sunk into the water without a second thought.

They had tried and tried to conceive a child, but it seemed that no matter their efforts (which were frequent) it did not seem to stick. It was heartbreaking every time that this happened, and yet she could not control anything that happened. YN knew that she was older, but she had heard of women having children even older than her before. She just did not understand why nothing seemed to stick for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Harry walked in with a smile on his face, “Miss Harding told me you were in here. It is not like you to have a midday bath.”

YN looked at Harry and at those kind eyes that were staring into hers, and she broke down. The sobs that left her lips were loud, and they shook her entire body. He immediately rushed over to her, kneeling by the tub so that he could wrap his arms around body, trying to soothe the sobs that were wracking through her body.

It was at that point that he noticed her discarded clothes, and the stain upon them told him everything that he needed to know.

“Oh, YN…” Harry’s lips skimmed the top of her head, the realisation and seeing her in such pain stabbed at his chest also, “I am so sorry.”

YN shook her head, leaning against his shoulder, “There is no need for you to apologise, Harry. It is not your fault… I just… I am finding it more and more difficult to deal with the disappointment time and time again.”

Harry sighed, his lips placing a light kiss on her hairline before he pulled away, “Move forward, slightly.”

YN nodded, bringing her legs closer to her chest, and moving forward slightly, She watched as Harry stripped from his clothes, dropping them on a pile by the end of the tub and allowed his body to slip into the water behind her. YN immediately relaxed into Harry’s arms, the feeling of his arms around her body offering the comfort that she needed at that time.

“I do not wish to offend you with this, my love, but…” YN dropped her head back on his shoulder, placing her hands upon his that sat on the soft skin of his thighs, “Do you think that we should stop our endeavours?”

YN pulled away to look at him, “You wish to stop having sex with me?”

“No!” Harry’s eyes immediately widened, “No, God no. I do not wish for that, at all. I just mean that… YN I cannot see you go through this month by month. I just thought that we could, stop putting such a pressure on our actions.”

YN let out a sigh of relief and dropped back down next to him, “Oh… I suppose you may be right.”

“I thought you should know by now that it is often not the case that I am not,” Harry jested from behind her, his nose nudging her cheek.

“I think you are mistaken by that,” YN retorted, shaking her head, “I am more often the one that is right, and you know it.”

“So I do,” Harry lifted his hand from the water to tap her cheek, turning her head so that their lips were inches away from each other, “I just think that if we possibly put a little less pressure on ourselves, then you would hurt less.”

As much as YN would hate to admit it again, Harry’s word did hold some truth. Whilst Harry had never put any sort of pressure upon her, she was unable to say that she did not do the same for herself. It was more often than not she found herself worrying if it was her that was the cause of the problems. Harry had two beautiful children already, and yet the only difference between then and now was YN – and that therefore meant that she had to be the problem which was occurring.

“I think that is the best course of action,” YN nodded, dropping her head forward so that her forehead rested against his.

It was not long before he leant forward and placed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, and light and the only word that YN could use to describe it was loving. It was as though no matter what mood YN found herself in or what was possibly going on in her head – the only thing that ever brought her out of such was him.

Harry’s hand lifted to rest against her cheek, resting against the soft skin and in part brushing all of the worry out of her body. It was a shock to her at what his touch did to her. She never, ever wanted it to end. She was the one to pull away first, placing her head against his shoulder again.

“We shall take the pressure off,” YN nodded, “And wait to see what happens.” “It will happen when the time is right,” Harry placed his head against hers, “And we should not worry ourselves until that time.”

YEAR SEVEN

From the last time that YN felt strange, this one was different.

The feeling itself was nothing that YN would say was significant – but it was there. She waited for the moment that her courses would come and prove to her that whatever she was feeling was just the prerequisite to that – and yet it never did.

YN tried not to worry herself, or to let her mind spiral but it was often difficult not to. It was as though there were some things that her mind just had to run free with. She did not tell Harry of her thoughts, as she did not want to worry him or to let him get his hopes up for something which could not be true just yet. That it could once again just be her mind playing tricks on her.

That was until, a month or so after her courses should have arrived that she started to feel waves of nausea race over her.

That was when her suspicions grew more into what she would deem to be facts. Her missed courses, the nausea, her constant state of fatigue and the fact that foods that she had once loved turned her stomach in ways that she could not express.

These feelings, which had been slight at first soon grew into something that she could not hide.

It was just a random Thursday that she had woken up and felt quite unwell, and whilst she had truly tried to get up and get herself ready for the day – she just could not.

The only way in which YN’s stomach did not churn uncontrollably was if she was laid down. That is how she found herself, on a lounger by the window in the drawing room. Her arm was covering her eyes, and she was focusing on nothing but her breathing – that was the only way in which to settle her stomach.

Even when she heard the door open, and Harry walked into the room – YN could not muster the energy to lift her arm and greet him. She could hear him talking to her, and yet her ears could not focus on the words that he was saying.

It was not until he dropped himself on the edge of the lounger she was laid on was it that she finally turned to greet him, but it was certainly not the greeting he was possibly expecting.

“Why do you smell like that?”

Harry chuckled, “Did you not hear me saying that I had just returned from my morning ride?”

“No,” YN shook her head, her features grimacing, “If I had, I would not be asking you why you smell like that.”  

“It is nice to know that you listen to me,” Harry jested, leaning forward to place either one of his arms around her body. He leant forward in hopes that she would return the favour, and yet she did not. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her.

“You… The smell…” YN placed her hand over her mouth, pushing Harry out of the way so that she could reach the chamber pot she had left at the side of her on the lounger.

Harry dropped down next to her, pulling her hair back from around her face. He was confused, and even more so when he reached out to wrap his arm around her body and she pushed him away once again.

“Do not come near me,” She held her hand out, instructing him to stay where he was, “You smell horrid.”

“Are you ill?” Harry ignored her orders, “Do I need to fetch a doctor?”

YN shook her head, leaning back against the lounger, “That is not necessary.”

“YN, you must tell me if you are ill,” YN sighed at his words, her annoyance growing by the second, “I cannot bear to see you in pain.”

YN raised her hand to cover her eyes once more, “I am not ill in the way that you think.”

“Then what is it?”

YN tried to swallow the feeling that was bubbling within her, but she could not, “Is there no way that you could change, or maybe even wash before we have this conversation?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “YN tell me what it is right now.”

YN sighed, turning to meet his eyes despite her stomach’s protests, “I have… evidence to believe that I am with child.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked upon her, “What?”

“Did you not hear me?” YN did not mean to snap, but she could not lie and say that her patience was not wearing thin with him, “I said that I believe I am with child.”

“I heard what you said, I just…” Then, his face broke out into a smile, “It is just that I am slightly in shock, but I cannot say not overjoyed by the news – and possibly a little apprehensive.”

Harry attempted to move closer to her, but she pushed him back once more.

“Harry, I wish nothing more than to hug you and kiss you right now to celebrate but I fear if you come any closer to me you might receive something else entirely.”

Harry finally understood what it was that she was saying to him. He stood up and immediately started to unbutton his coat and his shirt. He removed his suspenders, and his trousers came next until he was stood in nothing but his underwear in front of her.

“Would this suffice?” He held his arms open in front of her.

YN laughed, “You will have to come closer for me to make my decision.”

Harry laughed as he dropped back down beside her, wrapping his arms around his wife. He lifted her with such care and ease until she was upon his lap. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We are having a baby?” He smiled, immediately leaning forward to capture her lips with his, “I cannot quite believe it.”

“Well, I cannot say for certain, but I do think that it is highly likely,” YN nodded, accepting the light kisses he was giving her through her words.

Sighing, YN pursed her lips in an attempt to keep her feelings down. Without his clothes on was certainly much better, but the smell was still lingering around him, and going straight towards her stomach.  

“Harry, I am sorry, but you need to bathe,” YN pushed herself up and off his lap, “I cannot be around you until you do.”

“I thought you vowed to love me – smell and all?” He pouted, still making no movements to stand up.

YN shook her head, “That was before such a smell did this to me. Please, freshen up and then we can continue our conversation.”

Harry just nodded, pushing himself up until he was standing, “I shall wash straight away.”

“I need to leave this room,” YN shook her head, walking towards the door, “Can you open the windows before you leave to air it out?”

Harry laughed but did as his wife wished. His wife that was indeed carrying their child.

“I must say, it’s been too long since you have been in my shop, YN,” Miss Francis spoke, passing her friend who sat on the settee in her shop a cup of tea, “I might have to come and have words with that husband of yours to let you free every once in a while.”

YN chuckled, “You should have seen him this morning. I said that I needed to come and see you and he was readying himself to join us.”

Miss Francis gasped and shook her head, dropping down on the settee with her cup of tea in her hand also.

As much as YN hated to admit it – she had slightly neglected Miss Francis and her friendship since she was married. She, of course, saw her whenever she needed a dressmaking or something altered – but they both knew that was not good enough. Miss Francis had been there with her through thick and thin, and she hated that it had let it get this bad.  

“Well, if I was worried about whether or not he loved you – I’m certainly not worried about that now,” Miss Francis offered the younger girl a smile, but that dropped once she saw the expression on YN’s face, “What is that face for? Are you… is everything okay?”

YN offered Miss Francis a small smile and placed the cup down on the table in front of them. She turned and reached over to grab the older woman’s hand.

“I need to apologise to you, Miss Francis,” YN spoke, squeezing Miss Francis’ hand.

Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, placing her cup down, “Whatever for, my dear?”

YN sighed, “For getting married, and not coming to visit you as often. It was despicable of me, and I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

Miss Francis laughed with a shake of her head, “You do not need to apologise to me, silly girl. You were a newlywed; I am just your modiste – there is no reason to apologise for not coming to see me without a need for it.”

“No,” YN shook her head, “Miss Francis, you are not just a modiste to me. You are my friend I would say that you are my best friend. You encouraged me to marry, you held my hand the morning of my wedding. You gave me your family’s jewels to wear at the ball. And I… well I handled the changes in my life poorly when it came to you. I therefore need to apologise to you.”

When YN looked back up at Miss Francis, her heart broke at the sight of her watery eyes. She had never felt disappointment in herself like this before, and she was angry. She was angry at herself for abandoning this woman.

“YN,” Miss Francis shook her head, “All of that does not matter to me. I was happy just knowing that you were happy.”

“I am happy,” YN nodded, “And I promise you that I will never let it get to this again. I will come to see you as much as I can until… well…”

Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, reaching forward to pick up a biscuit, “Until what?”

YN pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back her smile, and yet she could not do it. This had been the real reason that YN had wanted to come and make amends for the guilt that she had been feeling. When she had finally come to terms with the fact that she was pregnant a few days ago, the first person (besides Harry) that she had wanted to tell was Miss Francis. She had wanted to tell her straight away, but it had taken her a few days for the nausea to not be so bad, and in fact for her to be able to get up and ready and even contemplate leaving the house. Harry had not left her alone these past few days, doing everything that he could to make her comfortable. That was why when she had felt fine this morning and had asked Harry to make sure the carriage was ready to take her into town – Harry had tried and tried to get her to allow him to come with her.

It had taken YN explaining to Harry the reason behind the visit, and how she needed to do this on her own for Harry to finally let her go without him. It was under the stipulation that she would go there and come straight back, and if she started to feel ill at any point she had to return immediately. YN, not wanting to upset him anymore nodded and accepted the stipulations with a light kiss to his lips. Any of the turning in her stomach that she felt today was more the nerves of the conversation she was going to have – rather than a cause of the baby.

“Let us just say that… life might be turned around once more in eight months.”

Miss Francis gasped, dropping the biscuit she had in her hand onto her lap and leaning over to wrap her arms around the younger woman. YN laughed, swaying with Miss Francis as they embraced.

“Oh, YN,” Miss Francis pulled away, the tears in her waterline now ones of joy, “I am so happy for you, darling.”

YN had her own tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Another part of this which she had not expected to experience as well as the nausea was the up and down of her emotions. Harry, who probably had prior knowledge of this, had taken her constant changes of mood like a champ thankfully. YN, however, was struggling slightly with the changes.

“I wanted to tell you,” YN nodded, “I needed to tell you. I need you to be with me throughout this.”

“Of course, I will, darling,” Miss Francis smiled, running her hand across YN’s cheek, “I will be here for anything that you need.”

“Thank you,” YN nodded.

It was then that Miss Francis sprung up into action, walking over to the trunk where YN had brought some of her dresses with her. YN knew better than to interrupt Miss Francis when she was working, so instead she stood up and allowed the older woman to boss her around the way she needed her to.

“I did wonder when you showed up with the trunk what was happening,” Miss Francis spoke pulling the dresses out, “I should have known.”

“It is just the ones that I think with a bit of altering should have some give,” YN nodded, allowing the older woman to hold the dress up to her body, “Harry said I should have some new ones made but I do not see the need.”

“You might have to, YN,” Miss Francis explains, “Depending on how much altering I can do to these dresses.”

“Well,” YN offers Miss Francis a smile, “You have never been one to turn down a challenge.”

“That I have not,” Miss Francis laughs, “Now, you have to tell me everything. How did you tell Mr Styles?

“It is not quite the story you imagine it to be, I am afraid,” Then the two women broke out into a fit of giggles and it was as though nothing had happened between them at all.

Nathaniel Styles entered the world a mere eight months later.

Eight months of what some might conclude as torture, but others may count as bliss. YN had realised that her pregnancy would be a mixture of the two. She possibly should have realised when the first few months of her pregnancy were torture that she was not necessarily going to have the easiest pregnancy. It had been easy to realise that this experience was beautiful, and YN would not have changed it for the world – it was also difficult for her.

It had also taken a toll on Harry. He had already been particularly attentive before her pregnancy, but it seemed as though it was even more so when she got pregnant. She should have known the way that he acted when she had first told him that she was pregnant and that he was going to be that way. If she thought that Harry was bad before, the closer they were to welcoming their bundle of joy into the world – the more that he would not leave her alone at all. He was there, always in the room with her and ready to be there if anything happened. YN, whilst she may not have said so during time, was thankful for him.

By the time that YN had realised she was in labour, there had been no time to do anything. If Harry had not devoted himself to being close to her at all times (especially during the latter part of the pregnancy) then she would have worried about him missing the birth.

It was slightly scary the speed at which her labour progressed, there was not even any time to call for a doctor, or even Harry’s mother or Miss Francis. She had to rely upon Harry and the maids that were at hand in the house.

Whilst Harry had tried his very hardest to not make it obvious that he was worried, YN knew him too well and knew that he was. The speed at which her labour was progressing was the thing that worried him more than anything. It was as though he had kept worrying about something going wrong, and yet nothing ever seemed to.

It was in the mid-afternoon when their baby boy made his way into the world, making their two other children siblings once more.

Harry had not put Nathaniel down since he had made his entrance into the world. One of the first things that caused YN to fall in love with Harry was the love and care that he had for his children, and now that they had one of their own – that had certainly not changed. YN had been resting in the bed, unable to take her eyes off her husband sitting on the lounger next to the window, with their baby boy placed on his chest. Nathaniel was sleeping soundly against his father’s chest, obviously finding the comfort he needed in the skin-to-skin contact.

There was not a single sound in the room apart from a babble from Nathaniel now and then, until there was a knock at the door. YN’s face broke into a smile when she saw Anne, Harry’s mother peering her head into the room.

Anne held a similar smile on her face, “Are you up for any visitors?”

“Of course, I am,” YN beamed, any ounce of fatigue immediately dissipating from her body. She watched as Noah and Norah walked into the room, both of them rushing around the bed and towards her.

“Is that him? My baby brother?” Noah pointed to the baby bundled against Harry’s chest, his face beaming out into a smile.

“It is,” YN smiled, her head dropping against her shoulder as she watched the two older children walk closer to their new sibling.

It was not often that YN would say that she saw the two of them nervous. They were such confident children; it was so out of character for them. There was nothing in this world that scared them, and yet for some reason, they both seemed that way about meeting their new brother. As the children inched closer to their father, YN felt the bed dip at the side of her. She smiled as she saw Anne sitting there, immediately reaching out to grab YN’s hand.

“How are you feeling?” Anne asked, pushing some of YN’s hair out of her face slightly.

YN smiled, accepting the woman’s comforting touch, “Tired, but I am well. It all seemed to happen very quickly.”

“Harry’s birth was just the same,” Anne smiled, “If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask.”

YN smiled, “Thank you.”

Both of the women’s attention immediately turned to Harry, who was instructing Noah on how best to sit to hold his brother in his arms. The eldest boy’s eyes were wide, and he was listening to every word from his father’s mouth as he spoke.

“Keep your arms together, just like that,” Noah nodded, watching as his father moved Nathaniel from his arms and placed him down in his sons. His face broke into a smile once the little boy was safe and secure in his arms.

“He’s so small,” Noah commented, his eyes wide as he looked up to YN for just a second until they dropped back down to his brother.

“Well,” Harry sighed, reaching over to run the back of his finger across the expanse of Nathaniel’s small cheek, “You both were once this small.”

“Really?” Norah’s eyes lit up, “But you always say that I am your big girl.”

Harry nodded, suppressing a chuckle slightly before he reached his arm out to wrap around his daughter’s body, pulling her into the side of him, “You are my big girl, but you were once my small girl too, but you will always be my baby.”

Norah smiled, accepting the kiss that Harry placed on her cheek. It was very quickly that (just as her brother’s) Norah’s attention was placed upon her little brother, who had interrupted his sleep once again to let out a small whine before falling straight back into a slumber.

“Look at that,” YN smiled, “He feels safe with his big brother.”

Noah smiled once more before it was replaced with one of concern when Nathaniel broke out into tears, his little face turning red and his eyebrows furrowing. Noah’s eyes widened, looking between Harry and YN with a panic-stricken face.

“It is okay, bud,” Harry chuckled slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as they met YN’s, “He must be hungry.”

YN and Anne both chuckled from their place on the bed, watching as Noah angled his arms towards Harry slightly so that he could take his brother off him.

“I think that is our cue to leave,” Anne smiled, squeezing YN’s hand one last before climbing off the bed, “I am sure that there’s some trouble that we can get up to.”

YN smiled, opening her arms wide so that both Noah and Norah could come and hug her and kiss her before they left. Norah had a pouting face as she came over to YN. The older woman attempted to wipe it off her face, but she could not.

“And what is with that face, Norah?” YN teased, running her finger across the girl’s cheek lightly.

She pouted one more time, “I did not get to hold Nathaniel.”

YN smiled, placing a kiss on the younger girl’s cheek, “Your time will come, Norah, I promise. But he’s small now and needs me to feed him but I promise that once he has a full stomach – you will be the first to hold him.”

Norah sighed but alas nodded her head, “I suppose I can live with that.”

“I suppose you can,” YN smiled, “Now go, I’m sure Nana has plenty of things planned for you in the meantime.”

The children both nodded, accepting their Nana’s outstretched hands and walked out of the room. Both Harry and YN watched as the door closed behind them, a smile passing between them as it did. YN pulled herself up slightly so that she was in a sitting position, and smiled as Harry dropped down next to her, passing her Nathaniel as he did.

YN smiled at Nathaniel, and even though his little face was still red and scrunched with tears, YN would not change it for the world. Harry helped in pulling her nightgown down of herself, the act itself being sort of difficult with little Nathaniel in her arms. She sighed slightly as Nathaniel attached to her nipple, her body falling into Harry’s embrace as he wrapped his arm around YN’s shoulder, her head dropping down to his.

It was as though the second that Nathaniel had latched on, his face relaxed and peace was restored throughout his body. His eyes were wide, never leaving his parents faces as he began to eat. It was a beautiful moment, a moment that YN would never forget.

Harry sighed, lifting his free hand up to run his finger across Nathaniel’s cheek again, “He’s got your nose.”

YN chuckled slightly, trying her hardest not to shake too much and disturb the little boy pressed against her chest, “He does… it is no wonder I had so much heartburn with all of that hair – that’s certainly taking after you.”

Harry is the one who chuckles this time, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of YN’s head, “I hope he has your eyes.”

YN shook her head, turning so that she was facing Harry, “I want him to have your eyes.”

Harry smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead against YN’s. Harry’s eyes were one of the first things that YN noticed about him, and they will always be one of her favourite things about him. People always say that home is not a house, and instead can be found in a person. That was more obvious to her when she met Harry, and even more so when she looked into those green eyes of his. Those eyes, especially when they looked at her made her feel more at home than anything in this world. They were her comfort, her love, and more importantly, her home.

“Are you sure that you want him to have my eyes?” Harry questioned, pulling away slightly to look at her, “Because we both know we will not be able to say no to him.”

YN laughs before shaking her head, “I have no trouble saying no to you.”

“That is true,” Harry nods, “I suppose it shall be me that struggles to say no. I will compromise with the next one having your eyes.”

YN chuckled, “The next one?”

“Of course,” Harry sighed, “If you would want that.”

After sharing a slight chuckle between the two of them, they both turned to look at their son, who was becoming drowsier by the second. They decided that now was probably the best time to burp and place him down for a nap. Harry placed a cloth over his shoulder and carefully removed Nathaniel out of YN’s arms again, picking him up and placing him upon his shoulder.

YN watched with a smile as Harry started to walk around the room, gently rubbing Nathaniel’s back in hopes that it would coax a burp out of him. There was something so beautiful about the sight in front of her The fact that seven years ago YN had thought that marriage was out of the picture for her, and here she was now with a husband she could not love any more than she did and three beautiful children.

It was not long before Nathaniel let out the perfect burp, and his eyes began to close once more. He, so far, was the perfect baby. YN could not be luckier, and she also could not be luckier with the man she was raising him with.

“That’s it, baby boy,” YN watched as Harry swaddled the baby with a blanket, dropping him down lightly in the bassinet at the side of the bed.

There was a sigh from Nathaniel, and then not a single peep from him. Harry sighed, dropping back down on the bed next to YN, pulling her closer to him so she was resting her head on his chest. YN sighed into his body, dropping her hand upon his chest.

“Thank you,” YN mumbled, lifting her hand so that she was looking at him, “For everything.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “Thank you.”

[saphronethaleph]

Storms and Urge

Padme Amidala opened her office door, and tried to show only the smile as her reaction to her junior partner, Representative Binks.

They’d been working together for two years, now, and it was… still an experience.

“Oh, heyo there Senator!” Jar Jar said, waving, and trying to hide something behind his back. “How has yousa been?”

“The Senate is… the same as always,” Padme replied. “What are you trying to hide, Jar Jar?”

Jar Jar looked surprised. “Yousa think mesa is tryin’ to hide something?”

“I could tell by your awkward pose,” Padme replied, with a smile. “And the way the thing you’re trying to hide is almost as big as you are.”

“Aww…” Jar Jar said, then sighed and turned around. “Mesa got yousa some new guard animals!”

Sure enough, the thing Jar Jar had been carrying was a pet carrier, containing two sleepy-looking canines which each looked like they weighed about twenty pounds.

“Theysa still little!” Jar Jar declared. “Mesa accompanied some gungs on a big journey to a planet with lotsa weird plants, theysa had plenty of metal in theirsa trunks. And some of these guys got hurt, an’ the big ones are bombad nasty! But the little ones seemed nice to mesa, and they didn’t have parents no more, and… mesa thought… it’d be nice?”

The gungan’s voice got more nervous with every word as he got to the end of his explanation, and Padme looked at the canines before turning back to Jar Jar.

He was doing better puppy eyes than the actual canines.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll try them out here in the office suite, but if they become too difficult to manage we’ll have to sort out another home for them.”

“Okey-dokey!” Jar Jar said, nodding firmly.

He followed her into the suite, putting down the carrier on the floor, then opened it and took out one of the canines.

Despite his words about the adults being nasty, this one certainly seemed more sleepy than anything, yawning and flicking a short tail before padding over to the nearest couch and inspecting it.

Then it jumped up onto the couch, turned around in a circle, and sat.

“It’s a good thing we have plenty of chairs,” Padme chuckled. “Do you know what they eat?”

“Theysa liked fish,” Jar Jar provided. “An’ Tarpals helped mesa train them in house!”

That took a moment for Padme to parse, and she offered her hand to the other canine to sniff.

It made a sort of buzzing noise, tail waving, and Padme frowned.

“...what’s up with their tails?” she asked. “That doesn’t look natural.”

“Mesa thinks… they got hurt in the fightin’?” Jar Jar said, uncertainly. “Mesa is not sure, though.”

“Well, we’ll see how they work out,” Padme declared. “I’m sure training some feral predators from an unknown world will be a nice respite from dealing with the Senate.”

Some hours later, Padme was most of the way through the data work, and one of the young canines was snoozing next to her chair.

She wasn’t really sure if they were just sleepy or actively nocturnal, and if the latter was true then there might be a more serious problem keeping them occupied. But Jar Jar had certainly seemed proud of himself, and if she was going to reject the little creatures she wanted to have a solid reason at the very least.

Then the canine next to her rolled upright, and began growling. A similar growl came from elsewhere in the office, and Padme frowned.

“Captain Typho?” she asked, reaching for her comlink. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing at the moment, Senator,” the captain of her security services replied. “The Chancellor’s just arriving for his meeting. I’ve cleared him already.”

The door to the office opened a moment later, and Chancellor Palpatine stepped through.

“Senator, I’m glad to-” he began, and both canines’ claws skittered against the floor of the office as they lunged. The sudden burst of speed completely caught Padme by surprise, while Jar Jar let out a yelp of pain that suggested he’d just been used as a launchpad.

“Stop!” Padme tried to order, even knowing there was no way the canines would respond to her voice instructions this early – knowing that only tone of voice could possibly stop them from attacking the Chancellor.

It didn’t.

One of them tried to bite Palpatine’s knees off, the other sprang towards his hand, and the Chancellor waved his arm to fling the one who’d attacked his hand against a window-

-Padme stared.

He’d done it without actually touching the canine? Was he a Jedi?

The second canine bounced off the window, rolled and pounced again, this time going for the Chancellor’s throat, and his hand dipped into his robes before bringing out a lightsaber. It flashed ruby-red as he swung it – only for the first canine to bite his wrist extremely hard, forcing the ‘saber to drop from suddenly-nerveless fingers.

“Get off me, you pests!” Palpatine shouted, his voice full of an anger Padme had never heard from him before, and lightning fizzed out to strike one of the canines. It actually endured being struck by lightning quite well, and a second afterwards the other one tore Palpatine’s throat out.

The Chancellor collapsed, looking quite surprised, and both canines abruptly stopped attacking and began wagging their tails.

Then, while Padme was still staring, the Chancellor exploded.

“...must have been a Sith,” Mace Windu said. “It’s the only explanation.”

He glanced at the pair of somewhat battered canines, trying extremely hard to escape from their carrier and savage him. “These little animals must react strongly to the Force.”

“Mesa had no idea!” Jar Jar said, trying extremely hard to hold on to the carrier. “Mesa did not mean for this to happen!”

“You exposed a Sith by accident?” Mace asked, sounding amused.

Padme was thinking hard.

“The other Sith, the one that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fought,” she said. “He was working with the Trade Federation, wasn’t he? During the Naboo crisis, he was on Tatooine and then he was blocking us…”

“I see the direction of your thoughts,” Mace replied. “If the whole Naboo crisis was caused by the Sith, then the goal may never have been about your planet at all. The goal may have been to raise Palpatine to the position of Chancellor, through sympathy for your planet’s plight.”

“Hesa very big-nasty,” Jar Jar summarized. “Mesa not sorry about what happened to himsa any more.”

[soscarlett1twas]

I. Son of Leviathan

↳ A supernatural wakes up in an unknown environment. ↳ 1.5k words ↳ Okay so. This was the prologue chapter for a longfic I've since abandoned, or rather, transformed into something else. Still, I like it, and I think it gives a good taste for what's coming in the future. Content warnings: Death, mentions of abuse (being kept in a cage, being "owned", etc), allusion to self-harm scars.

They were drowning. 

Sweat and humidity created the water, stifling their breath and felt like waves on their skin - the sounds of everything became nothing - and they sank.

They were drowning. 

They never stopped sinking. They only kept falling, deeper and deeper, never quite hitting the ground below them. 

They were drowning. 

For a second, they could swear they heard the muffled cry of… someone. Some kind of warm feeling touched them. It held them. And they rolled into it, the world becoming less and less defined as they took a singular breath.

And they were gone. 

–

All at once, they came crashing up to breathe. 

Harsh light cut into the darkness, hoisting them out of the sleep that had kept them down. It was unbelievably bright - but for someone who had spent the last year in a cage, a candle would make them wince. They rolled, groaned, and eventually, went still. 

They were on a bed, though at first, they mistook it for a table. Pain shot through their back into their spine, muscles clenching at the stiff mattress. They rolled their shoulders, biting their lip as they did so. It wasn’t the first time they’d been on something of the sort. But they had hoped it would never happen again. 

The thought awoke a memory - one of running, pumping blood, freedom. Even if it was through a forest lush with thorns and poison, it was the first time they had breathed in fresh air in a year. Maybe longer. 

Those were their last memories before blacking out. Pure, unfiltered happiness. The thoughts stuck to them like bramble on skin, stinging their heart, clawing themselves into them. They must’ve been caught - how else would they be back like this? Helpless and hurt. Seems like they’d always be this way.

Shifting their hand to their thigh (because yes, their hands weren’t bound, something that wouldn’t surprise them until a little later) to feel the damage, they meet the soft firmness of gauze. Soaked through, evidenced by their red-stained fingertips, but still wrapped. The fabric sent a shock through them, alleviating focus from their back and to the material. Their sellers, despite condoning any action that would “damage the goods,” never took the care to do such a thing. 

Where were they?

They sat up, ever so slowly, surveying every inch of this room. It was certainly some type of medical ward. The sanitary materials and bleak walls were clear enough signs. But what wasn’t there shocked them more. Acting out in the way they did, having the audacity to try and escape? That earned more than enough pain from their owner. Yet there were no torture materials like the ones their scars remembered. Nothing but actual medicinal supplies. 

Gazing around the room, bumps ran cold on their skin. Somewhere new meant something they didn’t know. If anything, being owned in such a way meant there were routines, plans and typical scenarios, expectations. Something new meant new territory. They couldn’t plan what’s next. They couldn’t brace for impact. 

Their hands shifted to either side of them, positioned to help them hoist themself off of the bed. It was here they realized they weren’t tied together - but it only added to the already quickening pace of their heart. They hesitated as they began to move their waist, then decided to stiffen their elbows to gain more leverage. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

They froze. Ice veins began to pound in their ears, blocking out whatever the person said next. 

A figure began to shift in the corner, off of a chair that had been obstructed by their neck. Through their peripheral vision, they could see a masculine figure stand, stride over to their side, and tentatively help them lay back down. 

Tenderness was a weapon. It always has been. Many wounds had been laid into their flesh, either preceded by or ending with soft touches - warmth that can only exist between two people becoming the fire that chars them. Which made it all the more pathetic when they began crying, salty tears scraping their face. 

The devil - for there was no other way to describe someone that profited from this business - ran a cloth over the tears. “It’s alright. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not here to hurt you.” The voice whispered sweet nothings. They couldn’t hear over their heartbeat. 

“Get away- get away-!” They sobbed out, desperate to go back to the forest and its bramble. The man walked back, hands up, and stood in clear sight. 

He let them cry. And when they were spent, he waited until their breathing steadied. To them, it seemed to take forever and no time at all. For him, it was roughly twenty minutes. 

Their throat was scrapped dry, so thick with misery that it felt as if they were choking on blood. They tried to swallow but they had no spit, so deprived of water that they couldn’t even do that. 

Then the man placed a glass of water on the bedside table. He backed up again, never taking his eyes off of them, watching their every move. 

It could be poison. It could be something worse. But if the drink would open the doors to death, or at least unconsciousness, they would welcome it with open arms. Fragile hands reached out for the glass, and when it was in their grasp, they nearly split it all as they lifted it to their lips. 

For the second time in mere moments, they felt as if they were choking. But this time, the water battled the desert-throat, giving the smallest, most human of reliefs. It was a feeling of satisfaction so bear you might think it impossible from a basic need of life. But for someone who had been denied their own humanity, it was an action that swept through their whole body. And soon, with water dripping from their chin and spilling down their shirt, it gave way to a sigh of relief that threw them back on the surprisingly comfortable pillow. 

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He repeated, whispering. “I promise.” 

They turned their head back down, looking him dead in the eyes. They didn’t say a word. 

“I know you don’t believe me. I wouldn’t.” 

Still silent. 

Beats passed. Both just looked at eachother, waiting for the next move. In the golden light that streamed through the window, his eyes seemed to glow yellow. A haunting effect. It reminded them of another man, one with true snake eyes. The one that spared them naught another glance after skimming their cage, and settled to speak to another prize. A prize he bought, and by the very end of their exchange in the menagerie, had resolved to call them “pet,” him their new master. Could this be the same man? 

No. The man with money also had pearly hair and a tilt on his lips that made him look like he was constantly smirking. This one had a frown so tight that it seemed to crack them and dyed black hair. Though, his roots had begun to grow back dusty brown. 

He pulled back from the light, leaning in his chair and into the shadows of the hospice. His eyes stopped the charade, becoming a deep amber in the lowlight. “I’m a mythic - or supernatural, whatever you prefer - too, you know.” He said it without a confessionary tone.

They stopped thinking. Whatever was going on, whoever the hell this was, it wasn’t something they wanted to think or talk about. 

He stood and walked over to them, lifting the chair and placing it at the side of their bed. He sat. “People told me there was an escape from a trafficking ring near here. That’s how I found you.” 

“What people?” They asked, voice hoarse. 

Without a word, he turned his wrist to reveal a tattoo. Only the top half of it was visible, blocked by his sleeves, but two sharp triangles protruded with a beady circle adjacent to them. The head of a raven. They did not recognize the symbol: Many people with tattoos had visited their cell, but none had a bird. They shook their head. 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“It means I’m your friend.” His gaze softened. “People like us are being sold and bartered for. I was, at one point, too. By the very same ring that had its hands on you. But the Raven’s took me in, and everyday I work to bring more of us into the fold. Into safety.” 

So this was a gang scheme. “I don’t want to be a part of your ‘fold’.” 

“I’m not promising you violence.” A layer of conviction entered his voice. “God knows we’ve all seen enough of it. And you don’t need to join the Raven’s for that security, that was my own choice. You should be able to make your own.”  

He outstretched his hand. Pale ropes of scar wrapped them: Some, straight on the wrist, were more faded. “When you’re healed, you can run. In fact, you probably should.” A humorless laugh followed the sentence. “But before then, I’m here to take care of you.” 

For a moment, they just stared. Then slipped their hand into his. “Okay.” It was a quiet response. 

“Thank you.” He gave a grave smile. “You know, I don’t think you told me your name.” 

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 31

Summary: After being defeated in the war by Rick, Negan is forced to deal with the repercussions of his decisions in life.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Rick, Michonne, Siddiq, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Thoughts of Suicide, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/144090733

Notes: I'm really doing my best to just finish this story. There are a handful of chapters left. By the views I can tell people still give this story a gander so thank you for that! Pre-Warning in this chapter and the next, Negan has a lot of suicidal thoughts like he does in season 9 of TWD. I want to give that as a pre-warning just in case it might trigger some people. (Gif Credit: @jdmorganz)

It was hard to comprehend at first. Pain filled Negan’s body. A burning heat that increasingly grew more painful centered at Negan’s throat. When he first woke up, he didn’t understand what was going on. It took a while before things started to come to for him. Everything hurt. Everything. And that wasn’t an understatement. But nothing compared to the pain in his throat and the faintness that he felt. It was keeping himself awake long enough to understand what had happened.

Once he became more aware of things, more than anything he wanted to touch his throat. Quickly he caught on that he was handcuffed to the bed which only made things even more infuriating for him. His hand hurt like hell, his throat had him in incredible pain. It took a while for the scenes that happened at the hill with Rick and the others to flood his memory. Having time to think about what happened, Negan was genuinely surprised to be waking up at all.

One of the last things he remembered was all the blood. He was covered in it. His expectations while bleeding out after Rick cut his throat was that he would be gone. Dead. After escaping death this whole time, Negan expected to finally meet his end. Yet, here he was. Handcuffed to a small bed in what looked like a storage room.

It was hard to hear the muffled voices outside of the room. It sounded like a lot was happening, but he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. Right now. Negan considered this to be a huge mistake. How was he still alive? Part of him wished that he died. There was a pressure in his head that was almost unbearable matching the pain that he felt with his throat and his hand. It was unbelievable that after getting his jugular slashed that he would still be coherent and alive.

Sleep would have been the thing that would have been best for him, but he couldn’t sleep. No, all he could think about was where he went wrong. Not just now, but at multiple stages of his life. He was doing the one thing he told Y/N not to do in the past and that was think of the what ifs.

Now that he was Rick’s prisoner in Alexandria, it left him thinking about his children and where they were. Would he ever see them again? Would he be able to apologize?

By the time that Rick and Michonne came to explain things to him, he couldn’t hide the burning that he felt in his eyes. He wanted to hold it together in front of them, but the tears were there and it wouldn’t be hard for them to see.  Hearing Rick talk about Carl had Negan thinking about his children. He had lost the war. Fucked up the one chance he had to make things right and do the one thing that Y/N begged of him before she died. With the focus being on what his place would be in Alexandria, Negan couldn’t help but think about the last time that he saw Evie.

Instead of being the father that he should have been, Negan broke his daughter’s heart. He said things that his angry mind conjured up. Things the old version of himself would have kicked his ass for. Evie had always been the thing that was the most important to him, but somewhere he got lost along the way. And Nathan needed him so bad right now with his developmental skills. Without him, Negan knew that his children would be lost. And that was all his fault.

Negan heard everything Rick and Michonne were saying to him. It made him feel guiltier hearing that he would never have a chance to be near his children again. As they were about to leave, Negan lifted his head. Michonne had quieted him during their lecture by pressing her hand to his hurt throat and the pain still ached from the pressure she put on it. His raspy tone called out to them, “Wait.”

“We have nothing else to say to you,” Michonne scoffed with Negan tugging at his wrists that were still handcuffed to the bed.

“You…” Negan began having a hard time speaking with the way it tugged and pulled at the flesh on his throat. It felt like it was tearing at the wound that was stitched and he shook his head. “You need to do something.”

“Wait,” Rick urged Michonne to stop before she walked out of the room, his head tipping to the side in curiosity. “We don’t have to do anything. Especially for you.”

“You talk about wanting change. Wanting to be better than me,” Negan whispered, hoping that would help in talking, but it didn’t. It took him longer to speak, his voice breaking and uneven when he tried to appeal to Rick and Michonne. “Back at The Sanctuary I have two children. They’re young. They’re mine. They can’t stay there. Please bring them here.”

“Oh, come on,” Rick snickered, rolling his eyes when Negan tried to pull himself up, but he couldn’t. A wince fell from his throat when he tried to plead with his enemy. “I’m supposed to believe you of all people have children? What kind of move is this Negan? What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan. I have a son and a daughter. My daughter is ten, almost eleven,” Negan grunted wondering how much he had left in him since his voice was going even worse. “My son just turned three. If you go there, you will know they are mine. Evie and Nathan.”

“Why are we even listening to him?” Michonne pressed her hand in over the center of Rick’s chest, but he was standing still in the room, his blue eyes fixated on Negan. “Rick?”

“There is no trick, Rick. Please just bring them here. They’re innocent in all of this,” Negan pleaded with the man who had almost killed him. “You talk about Carl wanting something more. You want to make an example out of me, okay. But don’t let my children suffer. They have no one. Their mom is dead. They are all alone.”

“And whose fault is that?” Rick snarled back drawing Negan to let out a whimper with the fear that Rick would do nothing.

“Please tell me you’re not falling for this,” Michonne grabbed a tighter hold of Rick’s wrist trying to pull him from Negan, but Rick wasn’t budging. “Rick.”

“Michonne, please. What do I gain from saying this?” Negan begged, the sensation of a single tear sliding down the side of his face. “As parents, you have to understand where I’m coming from. Please. Just go there. They were left with their nanny. They have dark hair, my eyes, my dimples…”

“And then what?” Michonne wondered, stepping forward to stare down at Negan when he let out a shuddering exhale. There were tears over his face now and it seemed like Michonne didn’t know how to respond with Rick stepping in beside her. “What do you expect Negan?”

“Just bring them here. They will be safer here with you than they will be with those at The Sanctuary. They’re just kids,” Negan tried to appeal to their goodness that they were just preaching about to him. “Do whatever you want to me, but please…”

“We’ll think about it,” Michonne answered, her fingers hooking with Rick’s leading him toward the door.

“Please,” Negan called out, his voice broken more than ever with his head lifting up from the bed. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Siddiq hushed Negan, placing his hand over the center of Negan’s chest after moving forward from where he was at the corner of the room watching.

“I don’t care,” Negan huffed, his eyebrows furrowing seeing that something in Michonne’s eyes changed with her staring out at him. “Their mother was good. They take after her. Not me. Please don’t let them suffer.”

“Come on,” Rick spoke up after a long moment of silence getting Michonne to finally look away from Negan. It surprised Negan when they up and left the room without an answer.

“Rick!” Negan’s screamed out, his head dropping back angrily when he didn’t get a confirmation from either one of them that they would help his children. Screaming was not smart. It hurt like hell.

Fear flooded his veins with the idea of the unknown with what would happen to them. The last time he spoke to Evie they fought. And he in no way convinced her that he loved her. It was quite the opposite. Right now, he could only imagine how scared they were. And he didn’t know how people at The Sanctuary would be responding right now. It was no secret that most everyone knew that they were his kids. He hoped that no one hurt them.

He just wished that maybe, maybe he would get the chance to see them again. Regardless of how much Rick hated him. Deep down, he was certain when he appealed to Rick that he would help, but now he didn’t know. Now he was scared and that was a feeling that was growing more and more within him every day.

----

The sound of water dripping near the corner of the room they had Negan’s cell in was heard. It had him dropping his head back further in frustration since it was driving him crazy hearing it. After they made sure he was going to live, they brought him down to this cell to keep him here. This was where he would remain for the rest of his life. It was dark. The windows were boarded up with only a small amount of light entering the room. They put him in a uniform of sorts to make an example out of him. This wasn’t a life of luxury. This was a weak cot, a bedpan and four empty walls. A room where Negan was left to nothing but his own thoughts and visions.

Hearing the sound of movement, Negan pulled his arm from over his eyes to see the outline of what he assumed to be his vision of Y/N moving in front of the bars. His vision was blurred and he let out an irritated breath. Closing his eyes shut tightly, he threw his arm back over his eyes and scoffed.

“You really won out here, didn’t you Negan? You did things your way and look where it got you,” Y/N’s voice began almost in a whisper. Exhaling loudly, Negan felt tension in his body and he didn’t know how to respond. So he didn’t. “I asked one thing of you before I died and you couldn’t even give me that. If you would have done what I asked of you, you wouldn’t be here right now. You and the children would be on the farm. But no. You had to prove that your dick was bigger than Rick’s.”

Bickering back with this part of his brain didn’t make sense to Negan, so he just stayed quiet and heard her let out a disappointed breath, “And now we’re both stuck here.”

Turning his head slightly hurt when he saw her moving over toward the other end of the cell to take a seat and drop down herself, “Now we’re gonna be stuck together here for the rest of your life. And I thought The Sanctuary was bad.”

Dropping his arms down at his sides, Negan felt like the room was spinning around him. At The Sanctuary he could pretend that this wasn’t real. That this was something that was nagging at him, but here all he had was himself. Nothing to distract his mind. No one to focus on. The only thing he had was this cot and his vision of the woman that he loved that died.

A wince fell from his throat when he heard the sound of the squeaking of the door to the room that led to his cell open. The light filtered into his cell and he blocked his eyes. It immediately gave him a headache. It was the first sign of bright lights that he had actually seen since they put him down here. It flooded into the room when the sound of feet walking on the hard floor drew him to lift his head.

It took a minute for his sight to finally come to enough for him to see that it was Rick standing before him. Trying to pull himself up, Negan lacked the energy that it took. His strength was gone. The adrenaline must have kept him going at first, but it hurt more now than it did when he actually got hurt.

Forcing himself to get up into a seated position, Negan could barely lift his head when Rick hooked his fingers around the bars that locked Negan in his cell. Silence surrounded them. Negan didn’t have a smart remark. He couldn’t goad the man on or mock him. Rick bested him and he knew it. And by the expression on Rick’s face, he knew that Rick knew it too and he was cherishing this moment.

“You getting used to your new home?” Rick’s southern drawl had Negan rolling his eyes and dropping his head down. Great. He was coming just to gloat. “Have you come to terms with the set up yet.”

“Sure,” Negan’s voice was rasp, his forehead aching when he reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It’s the four seasons. I should have switched to something like this before because I’m just loving being here.”

“Again with the sarcastic attitude,” Rick shook his head and Negan could see the judging look that was there just through the small amount of light that was filtering into the cell through the cracks from his window. “You’ll never change, will you?”

“Why don’t you tell me Rick,” Negan threw his hands up, his head slouching forward when he looked to his bare fee that were settled against the cool, cement ground.

“How’s your throat?” Rick questioned and it had Negan tipping his head back. The bandaging was still there. Siddiq still made sure to make it to his cell every day to check on his wounds.

“Do you care?” Negan grumbled back, the lines in his forehead growing. That question had Rick snickering before he shook his head. “Then don’t pretend to care.”

“I just need to make sure that you are healing so you can be around for a very long time,” Rick explained, his fingers curling around the bars again to squeeze them tightly. “I can’t have you getting sick and passing away on us. That would go against everything that we are trying to prove here.”

“Right. You’re real humanitarian Rick,” Negan snorted, his right eyebrow arching as he looked around at his cell. “Throwing me in a place that resembles a dungeon. How very renaissance of you.”

“You deserve worse,” Rick sneered and it had Negan rolling his eyes. Was this what his life was going to be like from here on out? Rick coming down here to throw it in his face that he lost and his life was now going to be miserable.

Pushing his body back against the cot, Negan braced his back against the hard wall and shook his head, “Are you just here to gloat Rick? Because if that’s all you’re doing, I have things to do. I’m a very busy man.”

“That’s so funny Negan, but no. I want you to do something for me Negan,” Rick released the bars, backstepping in the dark room as he nodded over toward the window that was in Negan’s cell. “Go to the window. I want you to look outside for me.”

“How? The windows are boarded up,” Negan pointed out, throwing his hand up toward the area that Rick was gesturing to.

“I know there are cracks in there Negan. People have seen you looking through them,” Rick responded with a grunt. It had Negan wincing when he worked to get himself into a standing position. Once he got to his feet, Negan dragged them against the ground and had to brace himself to step up on the cot. “Come on Negan, we ain’t got all day.”

“Sorry. I’d move faster, but someone drained a fuck load of my blood not long ago and I haven’t quite got the energy back,” Negan snarled back, bracing his hands against the wall when he pushed up onto his tip toes to look through the cracks that were there. “I can’t see shit.”

“Give it time,” Rick muttered and it had Negan tensing up. It took a while before his eyes finally adjusted and he was able to see through the cracks that Michonne was standing with Gabriel. A loud exhale fell from Negan’s parted lips when he saw that the two of them were talking with Evie and Nathan. Both his children were there in Alexandria and he could feel a rush flood throughout his veins. Evie had the dog stuffed animal that Y/N had gotten for her the day she got hurt under one arm along with her Flounder. Her other hand was holding onto Nathan who looked utterly confused.

Misery ate away at him when he thought about the outcome with his children. By the lack of response from Michonne and Rick, Negan thought the future of his children would be nothing but a fear and nightmare that he would have to live with forever. “Good. You see them.”

“Evie,” Negan called out, his voice barely loud enough for even him to hear. What the hell was he thinking? She was never going to hear him. Tugging at the bars that were on Negan’s window, Negan grunted out before hitting the boards that were there.

“I didn’t believe you at first. I let the idea linger before Michonne and I let it bother us enough. Maybe you were being honest,” Rick folded his arms out in front of his chest while Negan continued to watch his children through the small cracks. “You weren’t kidding when you said that they looked like you. One look into their eyes and I instantly knew. And I felt sorry for them.”

Dropping his head, Negan felt a lump growing in his throat the longer that Rick talked, “Having you as their father? It doesn’t get much worse than that, does it? And to look so much like you? They will have to carry that with them for the rest of their lives. Always having that reminder of their father. Then again, the little one has a chance.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Negan’s eyes closed knowing that they should have been with him. He should have just left when they couldn’t find Y/N originally. He should have started a new life for them at the farm.

“We’ll have someone take care of them. They’ll be fed, be provided a home, given an education,” Rick went off talking about the things that Negan’s children would have while living at Alexandria. “We won’t tell the others that they are yours, but I’m sure it will be easy to see. Like you said, you can tell they are yours. But we won’t let anyone hurt them. It’s more than you deserve, but at the end of the day? You’re right. They are innocent in all of this and they don’t deserve to be left for dead because of their father’s monstrous behavior.”

“What did you tell them?” Negan wondered, his head looking to the side seeing Rick now leaning back against the wall. There was a smug expression over Rick’s features when he smirked.

“The truth. I don’t want them growing up with a lie,” Rick informed Negan with a tip of his head. “I told them what you did. Why you’re here. Why they are here. How they are never going to see you again. Surprisingly, they didn’t fight it. They just listened, did what they were told.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan turned his attention back to his children and he felt tears burning at his eyes seeing the way they looked. Nathan was clinging to Evie and he looked scared. Lost. Evie was pale, her eyes red. She looked sad. Miserable. Heart broken. And he knew that was his fault.

“A few people told us about them. Their story,” Rick continued, his sigh loud when he shook his head. “Tragic really.”

“You know nothing,” Negan suggested, not wanting to take his eyes off of them so he could keep the image of them in his head.

“Quite the contrary. I reckon you’d be surprised with how quickly people talk when they are given the chance. Now I know a lot of it is probably rumors and what not, but I got the general idea,” Rick dropped his arms, waving his hands about when he tried to gather what he wanted to say. “Losing both of their parents in such a short amount of time is gonna be hard for them and I understand that. We’ll do our best to make them feel comfortable.”

Frowning, Negan felt the heat of his tears sliding down his face and slammed his eyes shut. He wished more than anything he could change what happened. Do what he should have done instead of letting his ego get the best of him.

“We grabbed some of their things from The Sanctuary,” Rick started with the sound of paper unfolding and it had Negan looking over his shoulder. Once the light shined on the paper enough, Negan could see that it was the drawing that Evie had done of him and Nathan together. “The girl is talented, isn’t she?”

Rick moved forward and held out the paper toward Negan. Stumbling down from the cot, Negan reached out to grab it, but Rick pulled it away from him before he could. Trying to move forward, Negan outstretched his hand past the bars doing his best to grab the drawing that Evie had done.

“Please, can I have that?” Negan begged of Rick, giving up when he realized that Rick was just teasing him with the idea of it. It was incredibly cruel, but Negan figured this is what Rick thought he deserved.

“No,” Rick shook his head, turning the paper to get a look at it. “I had no idea that you were living this second life all along.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know,” Negan countered, wincing when he tried to snatch the drawing from Rick again, but Rick pulled it back just holding it out of reach. “Please. I’m begging you.”

“I don’t care,” Rick retorted with his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching. “You can beg all you want, but this isn’t your cubicle at work Negan. This is your jail cell. I’m not here to help make things more comfortable for you. What you have right now is what you are going to have from here on out. Nothing more.”

“Please let me talk to them,” Negan pled with Rick hearing the laugh that followed. It broke him knowing that this was being used as a tactic to break him down more. “Just let me see them one last time. I need to talk to them.”

“No, you don’t,” Rick responded, emphasis being added to each word. “The only thing you get is the satisfaction of knowing that they are okay and they are going to be taken care of. You don’t need anything else,” Rick folded the drawing back up and shoved it into his back pocket. “Hell, Michonne didn’t even think I should tell you that I brought them here, but as a father I did the one thing that I knew was right.”

“I understand what you are doing, but please…” Negan whimpered, his throat tensing up when he curled his fingers around the bars that were before him. “The last conversation that I had with Evie was a fight. I said some awful things. I just want to let her know that I love her.”

“And you didn’t do that the last time you talked to her?” Rick wondered leaving Negan’s bottom lip trembling when he requested of Rick to see his children. “That’s a shame.”

“Just let me talk to her. You can stand right here. I won’t do anything. If anything I will stress the importance of listening to you,” Negan’s voice was going with how much he was talking. Rick’s eyes narrowed, his face twitching with Negan going off. “I should be able to explain things to her. Just talk to her before…”

“No,” Rick shook his head once more, not even allowing Negan to continue. “I told you, you are going to sit here and suffer for the things that you have done.”

“Rick,” Negan spoke up again in the hopes that he would have the heart to listen, but Rick started walking toward the door to leave. “If you won’t let me talk to her, please just tell her that I didn’t mean what I said. That I’m sorry. That I love her and she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

It took a lot to get all of that out leaving Negan lifting his hand to caress at his throat. Rick stopped in the doorway, his head shifting from side to side before he backed up and moved toward the cell again. Rick’s eyes gazed over Negan before he shook his head.

“No,” Rick declared, his voice stern with Negan slouching against the bars.

“Please don’t let the last conversation with my daughter be the thing that eats away at her for the rest of her life,” Negan almost whined while pleading with Rick. He was crying, but Rick’s expression wasn’t breaking. “I was stressed and upset…”

“Whose fault is that?” Rick stressed again stepping closer so that the only thing that was separating the two of them was the bars. “You should be dead right now. If you died, it would have been the last discussion you had with your daughter. Everything you said to her. You meant. So no. I won’t bring your children in here. No, I won’t feed some bullshit story to your daughter that you don’t mean.”

A sob fell from Negan’s throat. His body stumbling back when he dropped down onto the cot. It shook beneath him like it would break, but it somehow stayed together while Negan broke down where he was seated.

“Your daughter deserves to know the real you. The monster that you are. And she shouldn’t grow up with any other thoughts than that,” Rick continued, shattering Negan to the core that this was how his daughter was going to remember him. “She deserves to know the truth. Her father is a horrible person. And you’re the only reason it’s gonna be left that way. I hope you live with that.”

Burying his head in his hands, Negan couldn’t help but cry with Rick grunting to himself before leaving. Tugging at his hair, Negan felt miserable. Maybe he should have been dead in that moment. It would have only made sense after everything he did. He was alone and he had fucked up, so entirely bad.

-----

God only knows how long Negan sat there. The only thing he could truly do for himself in that cell was decide if he wanted his cot at the left corner of the wall, against the middle or at the right side. Otherwise, every other decision was made for him. He just sat in that dark cell to himself without anything to make his time go by. Everything ached. They never let him out to exercise. Someone would come down with a bucket of water every so often for him to get a bath when they thought he would start to stink too much. His hair and his beard grew super long and he’d grown much thinner. Lucky for him though, someone had come down recently and cut his hair for him. The person liked him so much that they ended up cutting chunks out of his hair and cutting into his head. They blamed him of course for acting up instead of it being what it really was which was two people holding him down while the person giving him his haircut did whatever the hell they wanted. But Rick would never believe in the darkness in his people so of course he believed that it was Negan throwing a fit that got him this way.

Adjusting his positioning on the cot, Negan pushed himself further into the corner of the room and dropped his head down. His thumbs spun in slow circles in his lap when he heard the sounds of footsteps.

Lifting his head, behind his long eyelashes fluttering Negan saw Y/N sitting down at the bottom of his cot, “You’ve been quiet lately. I thought you finally left me.”

She said nothing, just tipped her head back and closed her eyes, “Are you gonna stop talking to me too? That prick Rick is the only person who even bothers to talk to me anymore.”

There was a time where he couldn’t get whatever this vision of Y/N for him was to shut up. Now, she barely talked to him. When they first got here she tore into him about their children. After what he thought was almost two years, he could barely get her to talk. And he missed it. He missed people talking to him.

“Hey, you know what I was thinking about?” Negan spoke up, his raspy voice weak when he gave her a faint smile. “Do you remember when we first got together? How the two of us would go outside together late at night. Cuddle up next to the bonfire I put out and just watch the stars together?”

Silence followed drawing Negan’s smile to fade and he cleared his throat, “Those are some of my favorite memories. Just having you in my arms. Everything in the world felt like it would be okay then. No stress. No fucking issues. Just the two of us, together. Happy.”

Still she didn’t respond and it had Negan letting out a long exhale, “It reminds me of when we went to Disney together. On the last night we were there I just remember sitting out on the deck watching the fireworks with Evie in my arms.”

Lifting his hands up in the air, Negan made a gesture to show how small she was and it made him smile, “Just having her falling asleep in my arms…” Negan reached up to place his fingers over the area of his chest where his locket used to rest. A hurt sound escaped his lips when it wasn’t there. “They took my bracelet and my locket when they put me in here…”

A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips when he thought about Evie, “I wish I had it so I could still see our daughter. I try to get glances through the window, but I don’t know what I’m seeing sometimes.”

Sitting up on the bed, Negan slid forward, reaching out in attempts to try to touch Y/N but his fingers went through his vision of her and he huffed, “I wish you would say something. Even if it was you telling me off. Please.”

There was nothing in return. Cussing out, Negan lowered his head and felt his heart aching, “Please. Just say something.”

There was a sense of sadness rushing through his veins and he didn’t know what else to do other than to beg. So that’s what he did. More than anything he wished that he could go back to the days where his vision of her would lecture him about what he did. Yet his image of her in his head just looked sad and remained quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Negan whimpered feeling the warmth of his tears burning at his eyes. “I should have listened to you. I should have gone to the farm. I promised you that I would go and I didn’t. I made so many promises to you, Lucille and the children…I ruined it. I hurt all of you and it’s completely my fault.”

An annoying squeaking sound filled the air followed by the blinding light that would often come when someone opened the door to the room that held his cell. Shakily lifting his hand up to block the light, Negan winced and heard footsteps entering his room. Looking beside him on the bed, his vision of Y/N was gone and he frowned. Trying to wipe at his face to hide that he was upset, Negan pulled back into his position at the corner of the room to hide himself.

“Who were you talking to?” Rick’s voice stammered as he got closer to the bars. Remaining silent, Negan wasn’t going to give Rick the justification in speaking to him. “I’m talking to you.”

Keeping quiet, Negan swallowed down hard and Rick grabbed the chair that was at the corner of the room to bring it to the bars to sit in front of it, “I heard you talking when I walked by. Were you talking to yourself?”

Keeping his head turned toward the wall, Negan didn’t want to let Rick see that he had gotten emotional so he tried to count to himself. Most of the time Rick would come down here just to ramble about all the good that he was doing. That’s when Negan would have to go back to putting on a show. Pretending that he was perfectly fine, when realistically? He wasn’t. Rick didn’t talk to him about his children. Other than the first day, Nathan and Evie weren’t a topic of discussion. So honestly? He didn’t give a fuck. The only nice thing about Rick was that he spoke to him. No one else did. But he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“I see you didn’t eat your breakfast again,” Rick scoffed, nudging the tray that was before Negan’s cell with his foot. “You’re gonna have to eat at some point Negan. If we need to have people hold you down in order to shove food down your throat, then we will do it.”

Scoffing, Negan dropped his head down and realized that his body was still shaking. Well, Rick wasn’t wrong about that. The people here would have no problems if it came to doing with him what they wanted.

“What’s gonna make you eat?” Rick wondered with a huff, but Negan still remained quiet. “Come on Negan, the man with the biggest mouth I’ve ever known suddenly goes mute? I don’t buy it. Why don’t you tell me what it’s gonna take to make you eat.”

“You won’t,” Negan finally spoke, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he pulled his knees in closer to his body. Meeting Rick’s stare had Negan’s dry lips parting, his heart skipping in his chest when he felt an ounce of hope. “My kids.”

A crack of a smile tugged at Rick’s lips, his head dropping down when he chuckled at Negan’s response, “Please.”

“No,” Rick refused reaching up to drag his fingers across the side of his face. “Your children are doing perfectly fine without you. The last thing they need is you worming yourself back into their lives.”

“Please. I don’t even know if they are okay. It’s been two years since I’ve seen them,” Negan stressed hating to beg Rick for something like this, but he knew how he was feeling. And that was hopeless. All he could think about over the last two years was all the mistakes he made with Lucille, Y/N and the children. So there was nothing keeping him going. “Ten minutes.”

“No,” Rick firmly answered, the lines in his forehead growing when he got more relaxed in the chair that he was sitting in. “They are living with someone and they are doing just fine.”

“Tell me about them?” Negan shakily pushed up from the cot he was on, dragging his bare feet across the concrete of his cell. Curling his long fingers around the cell bars, he shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh. “Please.”

“You don’t care,” Rick grunted and it had Negan dropping his head down. Rick was contemplating what he should do before he dramatically bobbed his head about. “Your daughter is book smart. She’s miles ahead of other children her age. And she’s still drawing. She’s very talented. Always drawing you and who I assume to be her mother.”

“She still draws me?” Negan was surprised to hear that especially since their last discussion together was so awful. Rick nodded his head and Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered. That was the first thing that showed any source of happiness from Negan since Rick started coming down here. “Does she seem okay?”

“She’s quiet if that’s what you’re asking,” Rick alerted Negan with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “She sticks to herself, but she’s very polite. And your little one is a very sweet boy. Tries to get everyone to play catch with him. He’s not very good at it, but he tries. I saw your daughter playing alone with a soccer ball one day. Really talented kid, but she doesn’t really play with the others.”

“Is Nathan talking more?” Negan inquired noticing that Rick was uncomfortable talking about his children, but he was trying to get as much information as he could. “He had trouble talking when we were together. I was trying to work with him to get him talking more, I just…”

“He talks,” Rick held his hands up in the air to get Negan to stop before he could keep going. “He talks a lot. Stutters a bit through his words, but he talks. I think Evie works with him. She takes really good care of him. She’s very protective of him.”

“She always was,” Negan commented, dropping his hands down at his sides with Rick pointing down at the tray that was there. “What?”

“I answered your questions. Now eat something,” Rick ordered with Negan’s jaw clenching in frustration. There was anger between the both of them. It wasn’t something that they agreed on. This was next to nothing in terms of what Rick was doing for him. “I did something for you. Now do something for me.”

Glaring at Rick, Negan lowered down to grab the piece of toast that was on his plate. Bringing it up to his lips, Negan took a bite of the stale tasting bread as he dropped back down on the cot. There was a silence between them with Rick rolling his eyes when Negan just held the remainder of the bread in his hand.

“Eat the whole thing Negan,” Rick demanded of Negan, wiping his hands off on his pants before going to leave. Once he got to the door, Negan called out to him and Rick turned on his heel. “What Negan? I’ve got things to do.”

“I’ll eat the whole thing if you do something else for me,” Negan suggested, nodding toward the tray of food that was before him on the ground.

“God, what is it now with you?” Rick back stepped, resting his hands on his hips when he gave Negan his attention again.

“When I came here, you took off a locket I was wearing and a bracelet…” Negan declared, lifting his hand shakily to place it over the center of his chest. “The locket was something that Evie gave me when she was little. I promised her I would never take it off. I have a few wedding rings on that necklace too. You get me that locket and that bracelet? I’ll eat everything you give me.”

Looking at the tray of food and back to Negan, Rick shook his head and snickered, “No.”

“Why?” Negan snapped, his voice growing angry as he pulled himself to the edge of the cot. “It’s just a fucking locket, a couple of rings and a bracelet. Why can’t I have that?”

“You’re resourceful Negan. Who knows what you would do with those. Maybe wear it down by rubbing it on the wall until you get it sharp and try to escape,” Rick tossed his hands up in the air hearing Negan let out a defeated breath. “I refuse to give you something that can be used as a weapon.”

“Please,” Negan’s voice was broken, his body tremoring with Rick denying him the one thing he actually wanted if he couldn’t physically see his children. “I promise, I just want to put it back where it belongs. The locket is from Evie and it’s designed like a compass. You can go look yourself. Inside is a photo of the two of us when she was born. The other side is a photo of us together for a Christmas photo. On the back is her initials and…and the words daddy’s little dream come true. That’s what I always called her. And the bracelet? If you look at Evie she has a matching one. I bought her, her mother and I matching bracelets. They are just beads with two charms. It has her mother’s initials on it and hers on mine. On hers, it’s her mother’s and mine.”

“A promise from you doesn’t mean shit to me Negan,” Rick replied back, pushing his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. It had Negan’s face going pale and he realized where this whole thing was headed. “You can say whatever you want, but you aren’t going to convince me that you are going to be a good boy if I get you those two things.”

“Please,” Negan put emphasis on his words hoping that he could somehow change Rick’s mind. Still, Rick shook his head and Negan let out an enraged sound. With a growl, Negan threw the piece of toast that he still had in his hand across the room. It just missed Rick before hitting the wall. Heading over to the cot, Negan laid back on it and covered his eyes with his arm.

The sound of the door closing was heard and he assumed that meant that Rick left. His heart was hammering inside of his chest when he heard the sound of the chair being pulled closer to the cell again.

“Why don’t you tell me about their mother Negan,” Rick’s voice spoke up drawing Negan to tense up from where he was laid out on the cot. “Where is their mother? Is she the woman that you talked about with Gabriel? Your wife?”

Staying silent, Negan’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. He just felt chills flood his body with Rick trying to get him to talk about Y/N.

“Was she their mother?” Rick tried to get the information out of Negan, his voice growing louder when Negan refused to respond. “See, I was doing the math with how old your son is and something isn’t adding up. With what you told Gabriel, you wouldn’t have been able to have Nathan. Women don’t have babies when they are going through chemotherapy.”

“That’s incorrect,” Negan snarled, his arm lifting from his face with his eyes glaring out at Rick. When Lucille was diagnosed with cancer he researched to see if it would be possible for them to have children since he knew how much Lucille actually wanted a child. “Your ignorance is fucking showing. Pick up a fucking book Rick. There are certain restrictions, but instead of educating you maybe you should fucking find someone to teach you.”

“So their mother was your wife that passed away from cancer?” Rick pushed, surprise flooding his features with how angry Negan got at him. Narrowing his eyes, Negan dropped his head back down and scoffed. “No, I don’t think she is.”

“Congratulations Rick,” Negan threw his hand up in the air and huffed. “Their mother is of no business to yours.”

“Where is she Negan?” Rick asked again, but this time Negan wasn’t even going to give him anything. He stayed quiet and Rick threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s see if I got this right. Their nanny at The Sanctuary gave us a little rundown when we picked them up. I wonder how much of it is actually right,” Rick sat forward on the chair with Negan turning his head to stare out at Rick. “Their mother was someone from your past. Someone who was apparently head over heels in love with you, but you were married to your wife you told Gabriel about. You told him that you cheated. So this is the woman that you cheated with?”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan felt his fists clenching at his sides knowing that Rick was pulling together a story from bits and pieces of what people at The Sanctuary must have told him, “There is a big age gap between the two of them. Evie and Nathan. Eight years? What did you do for eight years to keep this woman wrapped around your finger?”

Licking at his lips, Negan didn’t know where Rick was headed with this discussion so he stayed silent, “According to the nanny, your family just showed up one day. No one thought you had a family. Hell, most people didn’t know that you had a wife before all this. Just those woman that you kept in that room. Apparently you became someone they didn’t know when your family showed up at The Sanctuary. They said you were very dedicated to your daughter. It was like you were a family man. It pissed off a lot of your Saviors. You were barely around because you were with them. You even got married to their mother, but one day the two of you went away. But she didn’t come back. Only you did. Evidently some people said you went crazy. That you started seeing things and talking to yourself. What did you do to her Negan? Did you kill her?”

“Fuck you,” Negan spat, sitting up on the cot with his eyes narrowing out at Rick. His fists clenched at his sides with Rick expecting some kind of answer out of him.

“Did she step out of line? They told me that their mother was very strong willed. Put you in your place instead of bending the knee to you,” Rick explained, his jaw clenching when he dropped his hands in his lap. “Did she say the wrong thing and you killed her? What you did screwed with your head so much that you made up this story about leaving her in a town after she was bit? I guess you had your Saviors looking for her for weeks and nothing? So what did you do with her Negan? How’d you kill her?”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve,” Negan snarled, a fire burning deep within him with Rick’s blue eyes staring out at him. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I don’t? Then why don’t you tell me what happened Negan,” Rick offered up, throwing his hands up waiting for some kind of answer. “Because if what you said was true, how come they never found her body? What’d you do to your children’s mother?”

“Is that what you’re selling? That I killed their mother?” Negan huffed out, his whole body tensing up with the fury that was building inside of him. Standing up from the cot that he was on, Negan approached the bars and Rick stood up. “You’re an asshole. If you aren’t going to get me those things, then get the fuck out of here Rick.”

“Let’s talk about those rings you are so desperate for Negan,” Rick waved his hand about in the air, almost mocking him with his tone. “I’m assuming it’s from your wife that died from cancer and it belonged to your children’s mother? Which one will you mourn over? Or is one of them a trophy that you kept so that way you…”

“One more fucking word,” Negan warned Rick who was clearly trying to bait Negan and was pleased when he did so. “The rings belonged to both women and it has my wedding rings on them too. You know what it’s like to love two women in your life, don’t you Rick? So how dare you judge me like I’m some piece of shit. I just want my daughter’s fucking locket, my rings and the bracelet. Don’t turn it into something that it’s not.”

“What’s with you suddenly caring about your children?” Rick sounded curious, but Negan was attempting to hold it together since Rick had already baited him enough as it was. “I’m not falling for it Negan. If you cared about your children, you wouldn’t be stuck in this position. You would have been thinking about them instead of being here. You would have put them first.”

“Like you did with Carl?” Negan spat back, the anger from the discussion causing him to say the first thing that came to him. A moment later Negan felt his body being yanked forward, his head hitting the bars with how firmly Rick pulled him. Hissing out, Negan felt Rick draw him back and pull him forward again making him slam into the bars. With the lack of strength, Negan’s body gave out only being held up by the grasp that Rick had on the blue button down they had put on Negan.  A line of blood was sliding down the side of Negan’s face from a wound that was over his eyebrow. Shakily lifting his hands, Negan grasped onto Rick’s wrist and feigned a smile. “You can dish it, but can’t take it back?”

Grunting, Negan’s body hit the ground hard after Rick released him. After pacing, Rick headed for the door and stopped when Negan tried to pull himself up, but failed, “You’re a miserable piece of shit Negan. And that’s never gonna change.”

The sound of the door slamming was heard, Negan lifted his head and in the shadows saw something different than he was used to. Even though his vision was blurred, Negan tried to pull himself up, but the strength was gone.

“Lucille?” Negan called out, his hands reaching for the bars letting out a hiss with how hard he was trying to get up and how hard he was failing. When he finally got to his knees, the vision of her that he saw was gone and he let out a whimper. “No, no. Please don’t leave me. Lucille.”

With a cry, Negan looked over his shoulder and saw the sheet that was on his cot. Tugging it from his bed, he pulled it off and hooked it around his hands testing the strength of it. After everything? There was no point in living anymore. And if this was how things were going to go, there was only one way out. Seeing Lucille after all these years only confirmed that for him.

----

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FELLOW TRAVELERS + Last looks

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 01 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: phone sex, mutual masturbation (f! and m!), JOI (m! receiving), Choso's first orgasm, praise kink (but in the softest way possible), friends to lovers, soft-smut word count: 1.9K MDNI | 18+

virgin!Choso who met you shortly after he met Yuji. He was wary of most people, but he thought your eyes were kind and pretty, and your voice was soothing and soft as you introduced yourself to him. He blushed when you asked him what his name was and he told you, still a little nervous. And then you smiled up at him, so sweet and bright, and told him yours and he swore it became his new favorite word.

virgin!Choso who started spending more time with you, because you made him feel safe. He was used to violence, used to being treated like a weapon by the people who had claimed to be his “allies.” But everything felt different with you. You helped teach him about the world, helped him to understand himself. You were patient and gentle, warm sunlight on the cold, barren existence that had been his life for so many years prior.

virgin!Choso who liked hearing you laugh more than anything. Sometimes he would make you laugh on accident, sometimes on purpose, but he didn’t really care either way. He liked watching the way your eyes creased at the corners, sometimes the tip of your nose. He liked when he made you laugh really hard too, when little tears would roll down your cheeks and the sounds of your giggles would be cut off by your panting. He made you laugh really hard today when he so innocently asked about something he had heard Yuji say to Megumi:

“Yuji was talking about something called ‘sloppy toppy’… Do you know where you get that from?”

You swore you were going to die of asphyxiation from the way your body convulsed and curled in on itself. Choso didn’t understand what was so funny, but he smiled as you wiped tears from your eyes.

virgin!Choso whose eyebrows knitted together intensely when you told him what “sloppy toppy” meant. He understood the basics of sex (as in he knew that it was how humans reproduced), but he had never experienced the desire for it or feelings of lust. But this new vocabulary word had introduced so many questions he had never considered before; how sex could just be for pleasure, how many different ways you could have it, what it felt like... The blush on your cheeks darkened as his questions turned more intimate, letting his genuine curiosity guide him.

“The first and most important thing about having sex is that you feel safe with the person you’re having it with,” you explained to him after a while of answering his questions.

“Safe like how I feel with you?” Choso asked you softly, looking into your eyes with his deep purple ones. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your cheeks blushing pink. You nodded softly, but gently changed the subject.

virgin!Choso who couldn’t help but go home that night and think about everything you had taught him. He thought of your pretty eyes as you explained everything to him in your soothing voice. He thought of the way your soft lips looked when you smiled or how they glistened when you wet them with your tongue. He laid in bed and felt an unfamiliar pressure in his pants, almost as if he was in pain. He shifted around, trying to get the feeling to go away but it felt like all he could focus on was his dick. He lifted up the waistband of his sweatpants to look at himself, seeing his cock resting stiffly against his stomach, swelling up as fluid leaked from the tip of it. He groaned low in his throat, suddenly wishing you were there with him in his room. He wanted you to be there to help him; to explain in your soft, sweet voice what was happening to him, why his cock was so hard and why it was dripping so much.

virgin!Choso who called you because he just couldn’t take it anymore and he didn’t know what to do.

“Choso? Everything okay?” You asked him in your sweet voice, slightly concerned because it was almost 1:00 AM at this point and he usually didn't call you this late.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he held the phone up to his ear with one hand, the other pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his throbbing cock. He groaned at the feeling of the fabric brushing against his sensitive balls as he shifted them down.

“It’s so hard right now and it keeps leaking… I don’t know what to do,” Choso’s deep voice whined over the phone.

“It’s-? Ohhh…” You felt your breath catch in your throat as his words sank in, sitting up in your bed as you heard his needy tone. You bit into your lip, feeling a steady ache between your thighs building at the sound of his voice alone. You took a deep breath as you collected yourself the best you could.

“Umm, well… Sometimes the best way to make it go away is to make yourself cum,” you explained softly, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and arousal at the same time. Choso was your friend, and he was calling you so innocently about his problem, he probably didn’t even realize how erotic it was.

virgin!Choso who did in fact realize how erotic it was when hearing your soft voice on the other end of the line made his cock twitch.

“I don’t know how…” Choso groaned softly in response to your suggestion, watching the fluid leak from the tip of his aching cock and drip onto the bottom of his stomach.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the sound of his voice, simultaneously tensing your thighs together as your own need grew rapidly. You bit your lip as your next response bounced around in your head for a few moments before you answered.

“I could… Tell you how… If you want,” you offered softly, your voice like a sweet whisper in Choso’s ear. Choso nodded quickly as his hand gripped onto his phone a little harder.

“Please,” he said softly, and it took everything in your power to not moan at how hot his husky voice sounded when he was so desperate for you.

virgin!Choso whose phone was now on speaker as you guided him through how to touch himself. He wrapped his large palm around his girth, groaning in pleasure as you told him to use the leaky fluid from his tip to slide his hand down his length. He listened obediently, his breath shaky as he followed the rhythm of your voice, telling him to slide his hand down… up… down… up… down… up…

He couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your voice controlled his every movement, feeling his hips twitching, jerking up into his hand instinctively. The sounds were so erotic: his whimpers through the phone; the soft, wet sounds you could hear coming from the movement of his palm over his skin. You were trying so hard not to touch yourself, your thighs squeezing together impossibly tight as you bit into your lip to suppress the urge to moan back in response to his whiny breaths.

“Squeeze your fist a little tighter when you get to your tip, Choso… Does that feel good?” You asked him, your own breathing getting a little heavy from trying to remain composed.

“Yes… Yes… Feels so good,” Choso whimpered as he fisted his cock on the other end of the line. You let out a soft moan of your own. You didn’t even remember moving your pillow, but there it was, in between your legs as you humped your aching, panty-clad pussy into it.

virgin!Choso who heard your soft moan and he almost came on the spot, his breath stuttering as he heard your angelic voice sound so lewd.

“D-do that again… Please,” he begged softly, increasing the pace of his hand as his hips thrusted up into the tight grip of his fist. His head was tilted back into his pillow, eyes almost closed, his lids so heavy from pleasure. You could envision all of it now as your own eyes squeezed shut, grinding into your pillow a little harder so the seam of the casing rubbed against your swollen clit. You heard the wet sounds of his fist sliding up and down his shaft and you moaned a little louder as you rubbed your clit into the pillow.

Choso whimpered as he heard your moans through the phone. He could feel a coiling pleasure building in his lower body quickly now, every thrust into his fist making him feel even more desperate. The sounds he was making were breathy and frantic as he braced against the dizzying pressure of the newfound sensations. His body was acting on pure instinct, pushing himself rapidly towards an unknown edge.

He whimpered your name out and you knew he was close. Your own arousal only increased as you imagined it was him you were humping so desperately as he whined beneath you. Your fingers slipped into your panties, sliding into your soaking hole as you rocked against them, moaning loudly as you felt your own climax building.

“K-keep stroking your cock for me, Cho… Want you to cum nice and hard for me, okay?” Your voice was breathless and punctuated by your own soft moans as you heard Choso groaning and whimpering in agreement as he loudly fucked into his fist. His back arched as he thrusted his swollen cock up into his palm, wishing it were your hand, your mouth, or the space between your thighs that he now realized he was longing to see.

virgin!Choso who sobbed your name out as he came into his fist, fucking up into his hand as ropes of his warm cum shot out of his swollen cock and fell back onto his hand, his abdomen, his thighs... His balls were so heavy—his thick cock twitching with every spurt that released from his slit—and his hips jerked up as he painted his body with his seed. He whimpered as it kept coming, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as he panted and moaned loudly. You could hear him whine louder from the other end of the phone, as you brought yourself closer and closer to your own climax.

“So good, Choso… You did so good,” you praised him breathlessly, your own body leaning forward as you moaned into the phone. You rolled your hips furiously into the pillow, bolstered by his desperate whimpers as you came around your fingers. You whined for him now too, riding out your own high as Choso’s breathing slowly returned to normal on the other side of the phone.

virgin!Choso who broke the silence first.

“Did you… Did you cum too?” He asked breathlessly, plump lips parted slightly as he stared up at his ceiling, eyes still half-lidded as he came down from the high of his first orgasm.

You swallowed as your body relaxed into your bed, pillow still trapped between your thighs.

“Um yeah, I did,” you laughed a little nervously. The reality of what just occurred between the two of you was sinking in now that you both had climaxed. There was some silence on both ends as you both breathed heavily.

“Good,” Choso said softly, smiling up at his ceiling. “Maybe next time… We could do it together?”

virgin!Choso who would not be a virgin for much longer after that night!

PSA: thank you so much for reading <3

[obaex]

(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[goodbird1]

My firecracker

Alastor x fem reader

Word count: 634

Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.

Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.

“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”

Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.

“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.

“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.

“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.

Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.

“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”

“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.

“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.

“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.

“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”

“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”

“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”

Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.

“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.

“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.

“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.

“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”

“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.

“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”

“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”

“And what would that be?”

“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”

Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[yandere-romanticaa]

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

[rkvriki]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love

hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !

make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3 word count: 1.9k a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing

you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it

anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails

as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?

no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”

you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.”  oh! who would’ve guessed!

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”

you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one

let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[dr-felitas]

you could have anyone you want - aventurine

synopsis: sometimes you can't help but wonder why aventurine chose you, out of all people, as his lover. 

pairing: aventurine x reader | fluff with vv light angst, hurt/comfort, mention of habits such as peeling of skin and biting your nails | wc: 674 ; drabble

a/n: i feel like this is a bit choppy, sorry in advance </3

“aventurine, why’d you choose me as your lover?” 

you glance over to where aventurine currently is. his right arm is loosely draped over the back of the velvety arm chair as he swipes through his inbox, archiving old mails and then tending to the newly received ones before shooting you a look of concern. 

“how’d you think of that now?” he laughs quietly and the corners of his mouth slightly quirk up at your question. did he not make it obvious enough, that you’re the only one for him? the thought makes him flinch, if there is one thing aventurine would never want it’s you feeling unworthy.

“and.” he hesitates. his breath is slightly ragged, as he starts to pick at the skin of his digits on his left hand - a habit he does when he’s nervous. the loose skin bothers him, he wants to rip it off fiercely. it hurts, but what hurts more, is seeing you anxious - it makes his heart ache.

he gulps before reluctantly elaborating. “is it bothering you?” his words are draped in utter solicitude and his eyebrows are furrowed as he bites the insides of his lips firmly while studying your face for any signs of uncertainty. “like profoundly bothering you?” he asks softly.

the insides of his lips are bleeding and he can feel the bitter taste of iron seeping into his mouth. the thin layer of skin above his finely trimmed nails is gone, he peeled it off. he no longer needs to bite his nails though, neither when he was nervous or in times of need, when he was starving. it’s impolite and viewed as disgusting. (he can still remember the earthy and foul taste of dirt that was covered beneath the nail beds - somewhat nostalgic; somewhat awful.) 

but does it really matter when it comes to you? (has any pain ever mattered when it came to you?” - no.”)

“no, it's just curiosity.” you lie through gritted teeth as you try to maintain a somewhat felicitous expression, forcing an awkward smile that falters at the corner of your mouth, onto your face.

“there’s nothing that i detest more than lying. you know that.” he reminds you bitterly. (lies are unfulfilled promises, vows that weren’t ever kept, empty words.) he gets up to where you’re at, comfortably lying your back against the headboard and softly stroking one of the critters the two of you recently adopted. the small critter only purrs in response to your tender touches, nestling against your body as you continue to pet it.

the mattress slightly dips as aventurine sets his hand, followed by his body, down. “please, tell me what’s wrong.” he pleads as he holds out his hand, placing it near your hand, not going further than touching your fingertips. (he’ll let you decide if you want to hold onto his hand - if you give him permission to touch your delicate body.)

don't lie to me, please.

“aventurine it’s just that.” your voice slightly breaks. “it’s just that i don’t feel worthy of being your love - worthy of your love and adoration, in general.” you admit in a hushed tone as you slowly snake your hand towards his, intertwining the two of them. instantly, almost by habit aventurine quickly laces your fingers together, tightly entwining your hand with his.  

“what makes you think that?” belittling or invalidating your feelings is the least he’d want to do, so he carefully squeezed your hand, not once or twice but thrice. it’s become a small pattern the both of you do when the other is nervous, telling them that they’re here. it’s a sign of reassurance.

“you could have anyone you want.” your admission is no louder than a whisper and aventurine needs to make sure that he’s not hearing the wrong things. 

him being able to have his way with anyone he’d want? isn’t it quite the contrary? you’re everything aventurine isn’t, everything he admires in a person - everything he’d wish to be.

“that's funny. i’ve always thought the same about you.” 

azul azul AZUL!!!! @azullumi something dedicated to (y)our lovely honey blonde uhm guy!! yeah... haha... ANYWAY. in the past month you've helped me a lot in my writing but also like mental/developing journey as a teenager. the words you tell me, the experiences you recall (like you being in the hospital - LIKE WHAT), the warm vibe you give off - they make me feel at ease, they make me feel seen and understood, they make me smile. i think i often tell you (in those notes) the same things, but they're utmost important for me to mention because i just want you to know how special you're to me and not just your words. you, yourself are very special to me. i'm very very fond of you, just so you know. i often think to myself "oh azul would like this." "azul would laugh so hard at this." etc. but i also often think about you and your words, i get so happy when i see your messages popping up on my screen i try to answer them asap because who knows when you'll be gone?!??! (NOT IN A DEAD KIND OF SENSE BUT OMFG MAKE UR DISCORD STATUS ON, STOP BEING ON INVISIBLE.) i often recall your words and the advice you give me, it makes me smile but another thing that also makes me smile is your smile. i'm pretty sure i've already told you this once but your smile is so bright, so bright it rivals the rays of sunshine that light upon us. perhaps you're my sun, my blessing that came along the way and makes the cold and hard days easier for me. melting the snow that hid me from the many things unbeknownst to me and revealing yourself to me. just you. whom else do i need? /j/lh. i love you a lot user azullumi <3

© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

[utterlyazriel]

love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight)

sorry if ur seeing this twice !! i am a finicky gal and was tooo sad it didn't appear in the tags so forgive me for the repost <3 it's good ol' hurt/comfort

It's unnerving.

To know something is somehow... wrong and yet, not be able to put your finger on it. Something being off.

There had been something off since your return from the Illyrian Mountains. Like a scar you hadn't ever remembered getting, like a lump in your bed that hadn't been there before.

You had returned to the Night Court only the night before, far later than expected. It had been near twilight, yourself kept late in the war-camps dealing with the unpleasant likes of Lord Devlon. All you wanted to do was to crawl into your waiting bed.

But your bed wasn't empty.

The perfect shape of your mate, tucked beneath the blankets, is one you could recognize in the dark. Even then, you had felt the strange difference — a tickle along the nape of your neck, enough to make you shiver.

Drained of your energy, you carelessly ignore it. Chalk it up to the bad feeling you got every time you went back to those gods forsaken war-camps.

Beyond their terrible ways and nearly tyrannical leaders, your own mate's history there was enough to make you want to burn it to the ground. To scorch and salt the Earth so nothing could grow there for a hundred years as proof of the pain.

So, feeling weary, you crawl into your bed. Your eyes find Azriel sleeping beside you, silent as always, and you trace the delicate features of his face in the dark. Even in his sleep, his shadows, lazy and slow, greet you as a slumber begins to wash over you. The lull of dreams comes quick.

As does morning. But come morning, Azriel isn't there.

Not the most unexpected thing; there were early morning trainings frequently enough. However, Azriel loathed each time you were sent to monitor over those war-camps. He bristled silently each time you left and rejoiced in that quiet, tender way he did best when you came back home to him. A mission in Illyria usually guaranteed a morning in bed with your lover.

Today, the sheets are cold.

You frown as you push yourself up, the sheets pooling at your waist. Faintly, at the back of your neck, you feel it once again. The tickle. Frown deepening, you reached your hand up to scratch at the back of your neck absentmindedly. Your eyes fall on the door.

Like a mystical tug, you feel compelled to search for the Shadowsinger — slipping out of bed silently, the tiled floor is warm from the morning sun beneath your feet. You pull the door open an inch, wondering just where your mate has ambled off to this morning.

As you step through the door, drawn by your mysterious compulsion, you don't turn back to check behind you.

And even if you had, your eyes would glaze over the large Illyrian, still bundled up in your sheets, turning over in his sleep.

—

You find Azriel out on the balcony, not in training as you had suspected.

He's facing out towards the city, his hands braced on the marble, his strong wings held proudly behind him. Interestingly, his shadows have forgone him this morning. Not one of them is in sight. You sidle up to him, feeling more yourself already just seeing him.

"Abandoning me in bed this morning?" You begin, playfully. You reach out to loop a hand through his arm. "I thought you had promised me—"

Your words come to an abrupt halt as Azriel shifts before you can touch him, his arm pulled out of reach.

In fact, as he notices your presence and turns to you, he takes an entire step backward. His handsome face screws up, a frown set on his brow.

"Don't." He says severely.

Your chest pangs with hurt. Your eyebrows crowd together in your confusion, concern beginning to melt into your blood.

"Az?" You say tentatively. You want to step closer to him, to cradle his face in your hands like you do whenever he has that crushed expression on — but a greater part of you fears he may retreat from you again.

"Don't call me that." He say, voice lower. His head dips, turned away from you to hide his face. Your concern swells, a thousand alarms ringing inside your mind. The back of your neck tickles again.

"Azriel," You try again desperately, fighting to keep your voice even. "What happened? What's going on?"

Confusion paints every thought in your mind as it whirls and searches, hunting desperately for the cause of your mate's sudden iciness. Was it something you had done? Was it taking another mission to a place you knew he so despised you going to?

The Fae before you doesn't say a word.

"Azriel," His name comes out a plea, unable to help yourself. It only scratches deeper into your soul when he maneuvers again, quicker than you, purposefully evading your touch.

"Stop." He instructs, the word nearly a growl. His voice is alike to the bark he uses for talking down to unruly war-camp Lords. It's nothing like the soft, sweet tone you're so accustomed to. It makes his words sting even more. "Your touch disgusts me."

You reel back at his words, a sharp inhale shooting to your lungs. What? You could feel your mouth opening and closing, no words coming to fruition. Behind your eyes, you can feel the itch beginning. You will your tears away, confusion still the dominant emotion swirling inside.

"I—" You stammer. "I don't understand."

Azriel snorts, unamused. He crosses his arms across his broad chest, looking more intimidating than usual as he draws to his full height. He keeps his eyes on the ground but the expression on his face looks... bored.

"I've had a revelation."

Another ache resounds through your chest. Why is he being so cryptic? Since when... had disgust been something Azriel had ever associated with you? You shiver at the prickle that rolls down your neck. It's as though you had gone to bed and your mate had been switched in the night.

"Az, you're scaring—"

"Stop calling me that." He snarls, interrupting you. You jolt in surprise, your feet taking a step back. With the way he's leering over you, a hint of anger —anger you've never seen directed at you before— creeping into his face, something akin to fear grows within you.

Azriel is stronger than you and far more deadly. A fact that usually provides comfort, for the first time, only grows your unease.

"Don't you want to hear my revelation?" He asks, his growl barely reined in. He smiles down at you but it's not soft in the way you know. It's cruel.

You take a step back. Something is wrong— terribly, entirely and utterly wrong with the love of your life. Panic begins to bubble up, like waters rising in a sinking ship.

You need to find someone else. You need Cassian, need Rhys, need anyone else here to help because you are the worst person to help. Every word he says cuts deep to bone. You can feel your heart bleeding within your chest.

It has to be a trick.

That was all you could think. Your mind was stumbling over the sentence over and over, almost delirious in how it clung to the thought tightly. It must, it must —you hoped it was. Begged it to be.

You take another step back, ready to dash through the house and call for help — but Azriel takes another step toward you. Your fear spikes, looking up his snarled face, the power within him radiating off in waves.

"I came to realise that I don't—"

"—y/n?"

A voice cuts in. There's someone else on the balcony with you. Thank the Mother, you think to yourself, whipping around to find Cassian in the doorway. He's got a furrow in his brown, concern written all over his expression.

"Cassian," You breath his name in a sigh of relief. You step back again, hyper aware of how Azriel seems to take the exact same amount of steps as you, following you to the door. Your panic flares away, your breaths coming fast and short.

"Cassian, thank gods—" You begin.

"What's happening?" He interrupts urgently. His eyes are on you alone, never flickering across to Azriel out on the balcony. "Why are you— did you have another nightmare?"

"Nightmare?" You repeat, eyes wide as you stare at him in concerned bewilderment.

You're about to point out the very large intimidating Male staring you both down when Azriel speaks again.

"I said," He drawls out the word and your head snaps back to look at him. You fail to notice that Cassian doesn't even turn at all.

"I've had a revelation, my dear."

It all sounds so terribly sarcastic, such a far cry from your stoic, sincere mate. You cringe, already feeling how his next words will be made cut you down.

"I don't want you anymore."

"—what can you see?—" Cassian's voice speaks from beside you, fuzzy and out of focus. You stare at Azriel, your heart beginning to hum and fizzle, a thousand fissures breaking upon the surface.

An anguish so deep in your bones rattles through your body — and across the House of Wind, your real mate wakes up with a gasp at the feel of it.

"What?" You croak, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel.

You can feel Cassian's hands on your shoulder, shaking you, but you can't— you won't look away. Something deep within you compels you to watch him break your heart and shred your soul. The back of your neck singes with heat.

"—What is it you're seeing?!—" Cassian's voice dips in and out. His hand sweeps your hair back, looking for any ailments causing this. He finds it in an instant. "Holy Cauldron, your neck. Oh, that's so not good. Rhys!"

He bellows for the Highlord right as Azriel, the real Azriel, bursts in through the door — following the taut agonizing pain in his chest, that connects you two together. His eyes snag on you and Cassian, out on the balcony, and his brother turns to him but you do not.

"Azriel," Cassian warns. "It's a Vesania Sigil."

Azriel pays him no heed, even as the words echo through him with a darkened dread. His stomach turns, bile threatening.

A Vesania Sigil— his knees nearly threaten to buckle beneath him.

A Vesania Sigil is a sinister curse, placed on people to drive them to the brink of insanity, minds scrambled to exhaustion.

In all the times Azriel has seen them in his long lifetime... they have all been on dead Fae, driven to the point of taking their own life. His shadows burst into a frenzied storm.

Your eyes are fixed somewhere out of the balcony, a glaze to them that tells Azriel you're seeing something different than he can. Softly, as gently as he can, he strides out and Cassian steps back to let him. Azriel steps down onto the balcony beside you, slowly, delicately reaching out to touch you.

You startle, head snapping around to see who's touched you. Except when you drag your gaze up and meet his face, you flinch hard. Azriel feels misery twist deep into his heart, some buried fear within him coming true before his eyes.

You take a step back, stumbling as you do. Then your head turns back out to the balcony—then back to him, back and forth.

"W—What?" You stammer out.

It takes Azriel only one second to realise why, and to feel the agony as he does; you're seeing double.

When you had said he's everything to you, you had truly meant it. He is both your greatest love and... your greatest fear.

Azriel can feel Rhys' arrival somewhere behind him, can even hear Cassian's concerned voice filling him in but his entire focus is locked onto you. You've stumbled back again, falling painfully on your backside, barely catching yourself on your hands but something— someone on the balcony keeps frightening you.

Something in Azriel screams; how can he fight an enemy he cannot see or touch?

He's on his knees before you in an instant. You're beginning to tremble, silent tears on your cheeks and Azriel's heart wails as you look upon him with a face for a fear. He can't tell what you're seeing but he just needs you to see him.

"My love," He says, voice quiet as to not spook you. You whimper at his words and something shrivels up inside Azriel's chest. He continues, noting how your eyes flick rapidly between his face and something over his shoulder. You shuffle back, too hesitant to trust him.

"My love, my moon," He murmurs, gently reaching out for you. His shadows zip forward, soothing along your skin. You flinch back again but Azriel holds strong, nudging forward until he's touching your skin.

You wince and screw your eyes closed and Azriel can feel the fear, the tormented pain that pours down the bond. He can see it now, this close, the seal that's burning against the skin of your neck. A fiercely protectiveness anger burns in his gut and he vows to tear apart whoever did this to you, limb by limb.

"I don't know what you can see," He say, soft as he can. He lifts his other hand and cradles the other side of your face. Your eyes peek open. "But it's not true. None of it."

Your lips are quivering, lashes sparkling with how they catch your tears. Azriel feels sick to his stomach again; he could do a thousand battles with countless weapons but this is something he's entirely powerless against.

"Azriel," Rhys speaks up from behind, voice cautious. Azriel ignores him, his thumbs stroking softly over your face.

"It's not real." He says with more urgency. Your eyes dart over his shoulder again and a whimper slips out your throat, your body tensing. Real, raw pain scratches it's way down the bond.

"Azriel, I can get it off her." Rhys voice again. "You just need to keep her still."

Azriel nods, but doesn't turn, doesn't take his eyes off you for a single moment. His heart squeezes and cracks, a thousand shards littered through his ribcage when you finally speak. Your glassy eyes have lost a little of their glaze, fixed on your mate in front of you with a desperate plea.

"He—" You begin, sucking in a harsh breath. Your breathing is too fast, your heartbeat too. "It- it fucking—it looks just like you."

"It's not." Azriel assures in an instant. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours, trying to be the picture of calm for you even as his heart warbles in agony at your pain. "It's not me."

Your eyes shift over his shoulder again and Azriel moves this time, blocking your view. "Don't. Keep your eyes on me. Look at me."

Silently, Rhys kneels at your side, his violet eyes blazing where they’re fixed on your neck. Undoubtedly, this was not such a personal attack but something to harm the inner circle. As darkness begins to swirl from Rhys' fingers, orbiting the sigil, you begin crying again, fresh tears spilling down your chests as little gasps wrack your frame.

"It—" You gasp, suddenly focusing desperately on Azriel now that you know who's who. "It— gods, it sounds so much like you."

"It might, but it isn't me." Azriel promises. He aches when your hands suddenly shoot up, eyes screwed shut as you clamp your hands down over your ears — like whatever you could hear was causing you physical pain. Rhys mutters something under his breath, his hands still working.

"Eyes on me.” Azriel urges, knowing you can hear him. You whimper and pitch forward, forehead bowing to your knees. His hands fall away as your head begins to give tiny shakes, side to side. His shadows swarm your shoulders, unsure how to help.

“Don’t—“ For the first time, Azriel’s voice falters with a wobble. He tries not to think of the countless warriors who have fallen beneath a sigil this strong and mentally roars at Rhys to move faster. “Listen to me, my love. Listen, listen to my voice, please.”

Your breathes are ragged, staggering inhales as you press your head between your knees. You entire body shakes and Azriel dares to steal a glimpse at the back of your neck — the intricate rune imprinted on your skin shimmering black as it slowly seals.

"Keep," Rhys grits out, his concentration still focused on his power. "her still."

Azriel's hands dart out, already apologising at how he has to force your head out of hiding. You gasp and sob, pulling back to resist but Azriel holds tight, his hands holding your face as tenderly as he can.

He pushes forward, crowding in, until his forehead rests against yours. He summons everything he can within himself, every ounce of devotion he holds for you and send its down the thread in his chest til everything burns white hot.

"Look at me, my love. Show me your eyes. Listen to my voice." Once the silent stoic type, Azriel lets everything that comes to mind fall out his mouth.

Your eyes crease open, flush with tears, and you shudder against him but Azriel feels it. The push back. The press of your skin against his, trying to get closer, trying to get to safety. Rhys curses for a moment, his dark magic still swirling and Azriel resists every urge to howl at him to hurry.

"Tellmetellmetellmetellme," You chant in a whisper, half delirious. You're flicking between his hazel eyes, your hands still half over your ears, body still wracked with quivers.

Tell me. Azriel's soul feels marred at the reveal of what is taunting you and he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks, drawing your attention to him.

"I love you," He says, voice sounding close to wrecked. "I love you and you're mine. I'm yours and you're mine."

You shudder violently, eyes crushing closed, right as Rhys pulls away with an exhausted sigh. It's gone. Azriel hears Rhys' voice in his mind but it's not even needed — not with the way you suddenly slump forward into him, like a puppet with its strings cut.

"It's okay, it's gone," Azriel murmurs lowly, gathering you up in his arms as much as he can. He can feel your body shaking against him, sobs still forcing their way up your throat. His wings wrap around you, an inky cocoon of safety, sealing you off from the world.

"It's gone," He repeats, his arms circling around you. He can feel the pitter-patter of your rabbiting heart, feel the remains of fear that hang around your system. Every cell in his body yearns at this injustice, the fabric of the mating bond sending his protectiveness into overdrive. But more than the urge to hunt and maim whoever harmed you is the overwhelming need to make sure you're safe.

"You're safe now, I swear. It wasn't real." His assurances continue softly, his body instinctively beginning a slow rock to soothe you. You sobs slow to cries, your hands twisted tightly into his sleep-shirt. "I love you. I love you."

By the time your breathing evens out and your hiccuping cries slow, it's some time later. Your face has been buried in Azriel's chest and when you finally dig it out, Azriel's heart disintegrates once more at your blotty skin, your tired eyes.

You don't even have to ask.

"Vesania Sigil." He says quietly, hazel eyes burning into your face.

You can feel his writhing worry through the bond, like a caged tiger, fiery hot and licking at your heels. You give a little sniffle. Open your mouth to speak and find not one word in your throat.

Azriel's moving deftly before you can think, his strong arm looping beneath your knees to scoop up you against his chest. You let yourself be coddled, thankful to the way he curls himself around you entirely, wings hiding your view — only a flash on the ceiling to be seen. You're not sure you can face the others just yet.

The door your bedroom opens as he nears and Azriel kneels on the edge of the bed, his strong thighs maneuvering you both up til he's rested up against the headboard. Pure exhaustion like nothing you've felt before creeps up from within you.

Yet even so, you feel your heart twinge. It's been chafed raw today. Your hands slither and squirm, til they're wrapped tight around Azriel's middle and he hums protectively, his wing draping over you like a blanket.

For a moment, there is only weary, tired silence.

"Tell me?" You ask in a whisper, your voice so, so small. Azriel aches at the pain in your voice, sending every assurance down the golden thread between you.

"You're mine," He says, voice hushed and yet doused in his love.

"I'm yours." You echo, voice a little stronger than before. He can feel the way you tug on the bond, as if checking its still secure— still unbreakable. "And you're mine?"

Azriel folds himself even closer and tugs back on the bond strongly. His scarred hand glides up to bury itself in your hair, massaging slow and sweet. His nose nuzzles in against your hairline, his lips pressing a kiss wherever they find skin.

"And I'm yours." He agrees.

[ameliathornromance]

“What happened to you?!”

Your Orc Boyfriend sat by the tribe healer. Gashes that started at his forehead and go across his face. Blood dripped down and onto his chest, which was bruised and transitioning into a purple hue in certain areas.

You went to rush over, to cup his face, examine him from head to toe, but the healer held a hand out to you. “I know it looks serious,” he said, “but they’re surface level.”

As you opened your mouth to protest, your Orc Boyfriend grunted, “I’ll be fine, love.” He gave you a pained smile. Even as his face oozed with blood, he still tried to reassure you. “I’ll come see you in a minute.”

He loved this about you. Everything was so different now that you were around. Before you and your Orc got together, when Orcs returned injured, they were told to endure it from their others. No sympathy given. Healers would provide Orcs with a pack of ice in a leather sack and send them on their way.

It started when one day, your Orc came back to camp with a bloody nose. You had instantly run over, "Oh my God, are you okay?!" Everyone had stared, startled by your reaction. But when you started tending to your partner's wounds, the camp seemed to follow your lead.

Orcs were now afforded more luxuries than before, being fed soup if they were immobilised temporarily or being washed by someone they were close to when they couldn't reach certain areas.

But your Orc Boyfriend, always did his best to come back intact. Despite the sweetness of your concern, he couldn't bear witnessing your distress over his injuries. 

This time, he was too careless. 

At that sight of your reluctant scowl, your Orc Boyfriend’s heart ached. He wished he had been more careful.

But you turned away and went back to your shared tent. 

He came in later, his face lined with stitches and his chest wrapped up with cloth. Your Orc groaned as he laid in bed beside you, scrunching his face up in pain. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked him over. “What happened?” Your voice was muted, small.

“Highway men.” He said.

They had jumped him while he was trying to find his hunting party. Your Orc had got separated when he’d tried to go after a stag. He emerged out onto a popular path taken by humans, looking around for his prey.

But a second was all it took for the humans to attack him.

The men were more vicious that most humans he’d fought, with weapons imbued with some kind of magical properties. One human delivered such a powerful blow to his chest that he thought his ribs had broken.

Your Orc got out by the skin of his tusks, and that was only thanks to another Orc finding him and helping him beat the snot out of the Highwaymen. 

You bit your lip at that and cast a look down at his chest. It had turned black now.

“It’ll heal.” He assured you. “It’ll take more than a few humans to kill me. Don’t worry.” Your Orc shifted and pulled something out from his belt pocket. “Here, for you.”

You gasped. Clutched between your Orc’s meaty green fingers was a small, golden band. A red ruby sat on top of the gold, catching in the dim candlelight. “We took their plunders, this was among it… And I thought of you.”

At your hesitation, your Orc offered it, “I promise I’ll be more careful when I go out in the next few weeks. See this as a pledge of that.” 

Biting your lip, you sighed. Your eyes traced the stitches on his face. You wanted to run your fingers across them, hoping that your touch could heal them. 

Taking the ring, you kissed the ruby. “You promise?” holding the ring to his lips.

Your Orc smiled and kissed it. “I swear on my life.”