#continue to hurt him every chance they get

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | vi

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.6K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, attacks on animals, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of mental health, only half proofread, use of crude language

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a/n: it hurt me to write this chapter 😭

You weren’t particularly close to your father. His life revolved around his work—the family business he hadn’t wanted but had accepted out of obligation when your uncles, San and Jongho’s fathers, stepped aside, unwilling to subject their sons to the challenges of running a conglomerate.

Sometimes you wished he had done the same too. 

He was often away, traveling to meet clients or locked in endless board meetings. He wasn’t the type of man to swoop in with comforting words or a warm embrace. Instead, he listened without interrupting, nodded without judgment, and spoke only when he felt it was necessary. Despite the distance between you, his steady presence had a way of making you feel oddly secure.

And maybe that was why, as you paced the length of your penthouse, you found yourself dialing his number. Mingi followed your every move, his small body glued to your side. He kept glancing up at you, occasionally tripping you with how close he was.

“Come on, pick up, pick up…” You muttered to yourself. Your pacing carried you in a loop—through the kitchen, into the dining room you barely used, and then into the living room. Then, you wandered back into the kitchen, your footsteps quickening with every unanswered ring.

“Y/N?”

Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you stopped pacing, planting yourself in the middle of the kitchen as Mingi bumped up against your ankles. 

“Dad!”

“Is everything alright?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the phone. How were you supposed to explain everything that had transpired the last few weeks without sounding unhinged? 

What were you even supposed to say? Hi, Dad. Quick question: Are you sure the woman you’re married to is actually my mother?

Your parents’ marriage had always seemed like a curious thing to you. It was a product of an arrangement. Yet, over the years, your father’s quiet gestures of affection seemed to keep your mother content, even happy.

Surely, he couldn’t have had an affair.

The idea felt absurd, but then again, you’d always felt like a stranger in your own home, an outsider looking in at a family that didn’t quite seem to know where you fit.

“I-I need to talk to you about something. I didn’t want to call mom because…you know how she gets.”

Your mother had a flair for theatrics, a tendency to turn even the smallest inconvenience into a grand production. If you’d called her instead, the situation would have escalated before you even finished explaining. 

“What’s going on?”

“I…” You faltered for a moment, running a hand through your hair before continuing your train of thought.

“There’s this woman who I think has been stalking me. A friend of mine was dogsitting Maro when she approached him at the park.” Your voice dropped slightly, recounting your conversation with Yeosang. 

“She recognized Maro…and referred to me as her daughter.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you took a moment to crouch down and stroke Mingi’s fur as he leaned into your side. 

“I don’t know who she is,” you admitted softly. “But…something about her felt wrong. And it’s been bothering me ever since.”

“Did she hurt you or Maro?”

“No, but she tried to abduct a little girl a few weeks ago. We stopped her and she fled.”

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said, his tone suddenly firm. 

You froze mid-step, his words rooting you in place. “Okay,” you said hesitantly, your voice small.

“I need you to stay put,” he continued. “Don’t do anything or go anywhere, especially not alone. I’m going to call the lawyers and have them review the court order and police files.”

“Court order?” you repeated, confusion rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Call either San or Jongho,” he said instead, his tone softening just enough to sound like a plea. 

“Let them know I’ve asked one of them to stay with you until we sort this out.”

“Dad, what court order?” you pressed, gripping the phone tighter as your heart raced. 

Mingi, sensing your distress, pawed at you insistently, his soft whines urging you to sit down. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your focus away from the ominous edge in your father’s voice.

“There was an incident when you were three. If she is who I think she is, she’s someone we dealt with a long time ago.”

“Who?”

“Your former nanny,” he admitted, his voice steady but grim. “She tried to take you,” he said bluntly. 

“At first, she seemed fine. Kind, attentive, everything you’d want for a child. But things started escalating. Your mother noticed something was off right after she lost her own daughter in an accident. She’d grown too attached to you. Too possessive. We let her go, but before we could take any legal action, she attempted to abduct you.”

“She tried to kidnap me?”

“She managed to evade security at first. It was like any other day. But by the time we realized what was happening, she was already on her way to the airport with you.” 

The room spun, and before you realized it, you had sunk to the floor. The color drained from your face as the weight of the revelation hit you. Mingi froze, his small body going still as he struggled to process the gravity of what he was hearing.  

He let out a soft whine, curling closer to you. He hadn’t fully understood your fears, the reasons behind your walls, the way panic sometimes overtook you without warning.

Now, as a dog, powerless to do anything but sit beside you, the weight of guilt felt almost unbearable.

“We caught her in time,” he continued quickly, his tone shifting, as if trying to calm you. 

“She didn’t make it far. Security intercepted her at the gate just as she was preparing to board a flight. We filed charges immediately and she was arrested.”

“But?” you scoffed. “Your money and influence couldn’t keep her behind bars?”

“We didn’t think she’d ever get out, Y/N. The charges were serious, and the evidence was solid. At the time, we were assured she’d be locked away for decades.” He hesitated, and for a moment, you thought you heard his voice waver. 

“You were so young. We didn’t want to burden you with something you wouldn’t even remember. We thought we could protect you from it all.”

“So much for power,” you muttered bitterly, rubbing your temples. “She seems to be escalating. She’s openly trying to kidnap children now. Who knows what else she’s capable of?”

Your father’s sigh was heavy. “Which is why you’re not to go anywhere alone, Y/N. Not until this is resolved.”

“Dad—”

“I’ll be increasing the security presence around the penthouse as well. And before you ask, yes, I'll be coordinating with Mingi’s family to ensure their resources are aligned with ours.”

The mention of your in-laws made your stomach twist. They were probably unaware of the situation, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. You could already imagine your mother-in-law spinning the story to her social circle about her damsel of a daughter-in-law and how her poor son was unable to save her. The thought of being the centerpiece of their gossip left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Make sure there’s a secure presence at the hospital too,” you said, cutting in before the conversation could linger on your in-laws. 

“She might try something there.”

Your father arched a brow. He knew you didn’t particularly like being married to Mingi—he wasn’t blind to the strain in your relationship. Truthfully, he regretted agreeing to the arrangement in the first place. He’d witnessed firsthand the coldness with which Mingi had treated you, most notably the way he’d rebuffed your birthday gathering that first year of marriage. It had been a bitter reminder that not all alliances were worth the price they came with.

But upon hearing your request, it made him realize that you had always been kinder, and more compassionate than those around him. While he had always seemed distant, caught up in his own world of business and power, moments like these reminded him that you had grown into someone he was proud of. Someone who cared, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

“Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “But I’m not going to live in fear forever. She doesn’t get to have that power over me.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be safe.”

The line disconnected and you set the phone down, your hand lingering on it for a moment before turning back to Mingi. You felt a surge of emotions–anger, frustration, fear, and a flicker of determination. 

But when you saw him sitting patiently on the floor, watching you intently with his big eyes, fluffy ears, and wrinkled nose, everything inside you softened. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in that moment, and your heart ached with affection. 

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it,” you squealed, the intensity of your emotions spilling out in a completely unexpected way. 

Without thinking, you scooped him into your arms, pressing your face against his soft fur as you swayed back and forth with him. Mingi melted into your embrace, his small body going limp as he relished your warmth. 

“I just want to squish you!” you exclaimed, giggling as you kissed him between the ears. 

Mingi let out a soft, rumbling growl, not out of annoyance but because he didn’t know how else to respond to the flood of emotions washing over him. If only you knew how deeply he wanted to protect you, not just as a dog, but as the man who had failed to see your worth for far too long.

“I should probably text the group chat,” you murmured, reaching for your phone while balancing Mingi securely in your other arm.

[Y/N]: My dad said I can have a sleepover

[Grumpy Bear]: fuck yeah

[Mountain Mayne]: Can Kira come too?”

[Y/N]: Only Kira, you stay home

⋆

Mingi found himself scowling, scooped up in San’s arms, as the four of you lounged in your living room, covered in mountains of blankets, pillows, and snacks. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in this situation, but he was definitely not thrilled when your cousins and San’s fiancée came crashing into the penthouse after you summoned them with a single text.

“Why isn’t the dog distribution system working for us?” San asked, holding Mingi out toward Kira like he was some kind of offering. Mingi shot him a glare, but the effect was somewhat lost given his tiny size and the way his fur poofed up around his face.

“Because we already have three cats at home,” she replied, chomping on a piece of cheese without looking up from her phone. San sighed dramatically, pulling Mingi back to cradle him like a baby. 

“Don’t worry, Maro, I'll save you from your owner and her evil husband.”

Mingi bristled, his fur puffing out even more. He barked indignantly, but it only made San laugh as he nuzzled Mingi’s fluffy face.

“Yeah, if the evil husband ever wakes up,” Jongho snorted from under his fortress of blankets. 

The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of Howl’s Moving Castle playing in the background. Mingi froze, his small body tensing in San’s arms. His ears flattened against his head as Jongho’s words echoed in his mind. 

Sure, he hadn’t been a perfect husband. He wasn’t even sure he’d been a good one. But…evil?

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” you replied, albeit with an edge to your tone. 

“What?” Jongho raised his hands defensively, his expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness. 

“It was a joke. I mean, come on, the guy cheated, publicly humiliated you… you can do so much better, Y/N.”

“I know a good divorce lawyer,” Kira added, waving her phone as if the solution to your problems was just a call away. 

The truth of their words clawed at Mingi, a painful reminder of everything he’d done wrong. He wanted to bark, to growl, to defend himself, but what could he even say? That they were wrong? They weren’t. Not completely.

You inhaled sharply, your lips pressing into a thin line as you plopped down next to San. He glanced at you, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on the small dog curled stiffly in his arms.

“I get it,” you said finally, your voice clipped as you reached out and gently plucked Maro out of your cousin’s arms. He went still in your hold, his small body tensing as he waited for what you’d say next.

“Mingi has his own problems, but right now, he doesn’t have anyone in his corner. I don’t know what will happen when he wakes up, but it’s not fair to say things like that when he’s not here.” You cradled him closer, your touch instinctively protective as if shielding him from their judgement. 

Jongho exhaled loudly, his earlier confidence deflating as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets. “Fair point,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. That was out of line.”

Mingi stayed silent, nestled in your arms, his mind racing. You could have left him at the hospital. You could have walked away, started over. Hell, maybe you should have. You could have even entertained the thought of dating Seonghwa, or Yeosang, or anyone else. Anyone but him.

But you hadn’t.

You spent countless nights in that hospital room, talking to him, even when he couldn’t say anything back. You stood up for him, even now, when he didn’t deserve it.

Mingi could picture it so clearly: someone else making you laugh, someone else holding your hand, someone else seeing the best parts of you. 

Maybe they were right, he thought bitterly. Maybe you really could do better. 

But even if that was true, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Not when there was still a sliver of hope that he might wake up, make amends, and find a way back to being the man you once believed he could be.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you announced, rising to your feet with an exaggerated stretch. “It’s way past bedtime.”

“I’ll stay here,” San declared. “In case your stalker tries anything.”

“Good for you, honey,” Kira patted his shoulder. “But I’m going into one of the guest rooms because that’s what sane people do.”

“You’ve got this covered,” Jongho muttered sleepily, dragging himself out of the blanket pile. He stretched with a loud yawn and shuffled toward his room without even waiting for a reply.

“We’re supposed to be in this together,” San grumbled, throwing a pillow halfheartedly at Jongho’s retreating figure. It missed by a wide margin, flopping harmlessly to the floor.

As you slipped into your room, the shift was immediate. The air turned quiet and soft, a reprieve from the playful chaos outside. You closed the door gently and set Mingi down on the bed, his fluffy body sinking into the plush comforter.

He sat perfectly still, watching you move around the room. You pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and fluffed the pillows before finally settling in.

Patting the space beside you, you called softly, “Time for bed.”

He padded over, his small paws making barely a sound as he climbed onto the blankets and curled up near your side. When he tucked his nose into the crook of your neck, you giggled.

“I love you. Night night, puppy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, Mingi stayed awake, tracing the gentle slope of your nose to the soft curve of your lips. It all seemed so fleeting, like everything could slip away in the blink of an eye. 

He sighed softly, rolling onto his back and then to his side again, unable to find a comfortable position. San’s snores rumbled faintly through the door, a reminder of the others nearby. But Mingi’s mind was too restless to relax.

His mind drifted to his last task: What did it mean to offer you happiness without expecting anything in return?

Isn’t it about giving you what you wanted? Protecting you, making you laugh, or ensuring you were never alone? But the more he thought about it, the more complicated it became.

How could he possibly give you that when so much of his past had been spent hurting you?

He remembered the times he’d chosen his own pride over your feelings, the cruel words he couldn’t take back, the moments he’d walked away when you needed him most. He had made you feel small, like you were the one who didn’t belong, the one who wasn’t good enough for him, all while he continued living his life while you were left to pick up the pieces of your own. 

“You’re home all the time, don’t you have any friends?”

Your response had been blunt, cold, almost dismissive. 

“No, they’re dead.”

That was all you said to him. No explanation, just a heavy finality that left him speechless. He didn’t know what it meant then, but now, looking back, it felt like a confession, a glimpse into a part of you that was buried beneath the walls you’d built to protect yourself after losing Hongjoong.  

Kim Hongjoong, the ghost of a man who had never left your heart. The man who had held a place there long before Mingi had even existed in your life. And in that moment, jealousy crept in. It was sharp, bitter, the thought of losing you to a ghost threatening to consume him.

He hated that Hongjoong would always carry that piece of your heart he couldn’t touch, a piece that belonged to someone who had once been your everything. Because in this moment, Mingi, more than anything, coveted that place in your heart. 

No matter how much he tried to remind himself that he was here, that he was now, it didn’t quell the sense of inadequacy growing within him. He couldn’t love you with the expectation of erasing your past or taking what wasn’t his to have.

If he was to prove himself, to earn his humanity, it couldn’t be about him. It had to come from a place of selflessness. He had to love you for who you were, even if it meant living in the shadow of a ghost. Even if it meant never being able to fully claim a place in your heart.

Even if it might mean accepting that some parts of you could never belong to him, no matter how much he wanted them to. And as painful as that truth was, Mingi knew it was the only way forward.

He nestled into your side, his fluffy form fitting snugly against you as he placed a paw against your nose. The steady rise and fall of your chest soothed him, reminding him that he was yours, even if it was only as Maro. 

“I’m so bored,” you groaned, hanging your head over the back of the couch dramatically. The ceiling wasn’t particularly interesting, but you were so desperate for stimulation that you started counting the corners of the crown molding.

Kira glanced over from the kitchen, her brow furrowing in concentration as she whisked a bowl of batter with a bit too much vigor. 

“You should try being useful. Come help me bake.”

“I’d rather be anywhere but here,” you muttered, sliding further down the couch until you were almost horizontal. “I’ve seen every corner of this penthouse.” 

“Drama queen,” she said lightly. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters. And besides, I thought you’d enjoy the time off.”

“Time off from what?”

“I don’t know? The hospital? The back and forth must be draining.”

You hummed in response, though that was all you could muster. Draining wasn’t quite the word for it. It was true the days spent at the hospital had a way of blurring together, but you didn’t mind staying there. In some strange way, it felt right.

At the hospital, you had a routine. You’d arrive in the evening, lay on the sofa and stare out into nothingness. Sometimes you’d read, talk to him about trivial things, or just sit quietly, the hum of the monitors filling the silence. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A way to show him that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t respond.

Because deep down, you knew he needed someone on his side.

It wasn’t easy to admit, even to yourself, but a part of you still held out hope for reconciliation. Not the fairytale kind, where everything magically resolved and all wounds were healed, but something quieter. A mutual understanding, perhaps. A moment where he’d open up, even just a little, and let you see the person behind all the walls he’d built.

You knew he was hurting. You’d always known, even when he tried to mask it with anger or indifference. His actions, the coldness, the distance, the biting remarks, were all symptoms of something deeper.  

But there was another part of you, a quieter voice that you couldn’t ignore. The part that braced for no change at all. That prepared for the possibility that when, if, he woke up, he’d still be the same person he was before. That he’d still look at you like you were the problem, the obstacle, the thing standing in the way of his happiness.

That part of you longed for freedom.

You’d spent so much time tangled up in his chaos, in his pain, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to just...be.

Maybe, if and when he woke up, he’d be willing to part ways. And maybe that would be for the best.

“I ran out of eggs!”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented. “What?”

“Eggs!” she repeated, holding up the empty carton. “I can’t believe I forgot them. I’m halfway through making this cake, and now I have to stop everything to run to the store.”

“I’ll go with you!” you said quickly, standing up from the couch so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet.

Kira froze, narrowing her eyes at you. “You know you’re not supposed to leave.”

“And you’re supposed to be at the courthouse, but here you are, baking a cake for a man.”

“First of all, it’s called paid time off,” she replied, narrowing her eyes further. “Secondly, San’s stroke game is top tier.”

“Oh my God, stop!” you cut her off, throwing your hands up. 

“I do not want to hear about your sex life with my cousin. He used to eat mud as a kid.”

Kira rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Anyway,” she continued, “your dad would absolutely kill me. He gave strict orders to keep you here. And unlike you, I actually follow them.”

“Come on, Kira,” you pleaded. Your eyes landed on Maro, lounging nearby. You scooped him up in one swift motion, holding him up like a fluffy shield. 

“Even Maro thinks it’s a good idea!”

Mingi tilted his head, his dark eyes widening as he gave Kira his best impression of a sad, helpless puppy.

“Look at him. He’s begging you.”

Kira groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s a quick trip. Five minutes, tops,” you promised, your tone bordering on desperate. “I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay by your side the entire time!”

She sighed, clearly wavering. “Fine.”

The ding of the store’s bell announced your arrival, and the comforting smell of fried food from the deli counter made your stomach grumble. Kira grabbed a basket, striding purposefully toward the back where the eggs were stashed.

“Eggs,” she said firmly, shooting you a warning glance over her shoulder.

“Got it,” you replied, though your eyes immediately wandered to the chip aisle.

The small store was quiet, almost unnervingly still, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. As you followed Kira, your gaze flicked around the store—a habit you’d picked up recently without fully realizing it. Your shoulders tensed, the faint prickling sensation at the back of your neck making you feel exposed. It was probably nothing, you told yourself, trying to brush it off.

Kira tossed a carton of eggs into the basket and turned to you with a raised brow. “Anything else?”

Her voice startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before grabbing a bag of chips from a nearby rack and a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels from the next shelf over.

“Alright, ready!” you chirped. 

The cashier rang up your items without much fuss, and soon you were both on your way. But as the store door clicked shut behind you, that sense of discomfort returned. You glanced over your shoulder, your movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might draw unwanted attention.

Your eyes darted to the empty street ahead, scanning the familiar buildings and darkened windows. It looked deserted, but the nagging feeling told you otherwise.

“You okay?” Kira asked, noticing your hesitation.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, the word tumbling out a little too fast. You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. 

You told yourself it was nothing, a stray thought feeding your paranoia. But as you turned the corner toward your apartment, your worst fears materialized. A shadow detached itself from the side of a building ahead, stepping into the weak glow of the nearest streetlamp. Your stomach dropped, and your chest tightened when you noticed the glint of the knife in hand. 

“Y/N.”

Your stalker. Your former nanny. 

Kira froze beside you, her posture immediately tense. Her free hand twitched toward her phone, but her other gripped your arm tightly, as if anchoring you in place. You shook her off with a small, almost imperceptible gesture, your lips moving silently to form the words: Call San.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t argue. She stepped back, her movements careful as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

“Hey…mom,” you said, your voice trembling but just steady enough to hold its own. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but it was all you could think of to buy yourself time.

The woman’s head tilted, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Oh, my sweet Y/N,” she cooed, taking a step closer. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” she continued. “You’ve grown so much. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

The delusion in her voice sent ice down your spine. She didn’t just see you as a person. You were a possession—something she believed she owned.

“It’s been a while,” you said cautiously, keeping your tone light, though your hands trembled at your sides. 

“What…what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home!”

“Right…home,” you repeated, your stomach churning at the word. You took a step back, careful to keep your movements slow and nonthreatening. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk and catch up? I just ate, and walking helps with digestion. Did you know that?”

The woman blinked, her head tilting further to the side. For a moment, she seemed caught off guard by the suggestion.

“A walk?” she echoed, suspicion flickering across her face before fading into hesitant curiosity. “You want to spend time with me?”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “O-Of course! I mean, it’s been so long, right? We have so much to talk about.”

Behind you, Kira moved as quietly as possible, her phone pressed to her ear as she whispered into the receiver. The nanny walked ahead, still clutching the knife tightly in her hand as your figures disappeared into the darkness.

⋆

Mingi paced restlessly around the penthouse, his claws clicking softly against the floor. His tail flicked with agitation, and his ears twitched, straining to catch a sound that wasn’t there. Something felt wrong—deeply, inexplicably wrong. You were only supposed to be gone with Kira for five  minutes. 

But those five minutes had turned to an hour. 

The door to the penthouse slammed open, and Jongho burst inside, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His face was pale and his brow furrowed deeply as he listened to the voice on the other end.

“Yes, I’m here now,” he said hurriedly, his tone clipped and tense. Mingi froze mid-step, his ears flicking forward as Jongho’s words sank in. Looking for you? His heart dropped. Did something happen to you?

“I’ll stay here in case she comes back. Yes, San and Kira are out looking for her along with law enforcement.”

Mingi’s nose twitched, catching the faint remnants of Jongho’s scent. There was something else mingled with it—the sharp tang of fear. A shiver ran down his spine. Jongho wasn’t scared for himself; he was scared for you.

In his frenzy, Jongho forgot to shut the door completely. It clicked behind him, but the latch didn’t catch, leaving it slightly ajar as he retreated further into the penthouse. 

Mingi knew you were most definitely scared, but were relying on your wit to keep your abductor as distracted for as long as possible. But it could only go so far. You needed help. You needed him.

He darted after Jongho, letting out a short, sharp yip that made him turn with a frown.

“Maro?” Jongho’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Mingi barked again, more insistent this time. He jumped in place, then headbutted Jongho's leg with surprising force, urging him toward the hallway. When Jongho still didn’t move, Mingi let out a sharp yip, trotted to the door, and paused to bark over his shoulder. Come on, follow me!

Out in the hallway, Mingi’s incessant barking continued until Jongho relented, reaching out to push the call button for the elevator. 

Jongho stared down at the little dog, confusion etched across his face. “Why are you so interested in the elevator?” 

Mingi stayed silent in an attempt to get this timing right. Then, as soon as the doors began to close, he darted forward, squeezing inside at the last second. Jongho blinked, momentarily stunned, before the realization hit him.

“I just…got played by a dog.”

Outside, Mingi paused just long enough to pick up your scent on the breeze. Darting forward, Mingi weaved through the bustling crowd, his small frame slipping unnoticed between legs and around obstacles. His nose twitched, staying locked on the trail, as he took off into the night with the promise of finding you

“I’m coming,” he whispered under his breath, to keep himself moving. His legs burned, and his lungs ached, but he didn’t stop.

Your nanny stood a few feet away, as you guided her to a nearby park. Her body taut with a kind of unnatural stillness. Her expression was deceptively calm, but her eyes gleamed with something unhinged.

“How have you been? You’re married right? I see the ring on your finger.”

Your fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against the cool platinum of your wedding band. It felt heavier than usual under her scrutinizing gaze. “I am,” you replied, keeping your tone calm and steady despite the way your stomach churned.

“Almost three years now.”

“Three years? That’s wonderful. What’s your husband like? Oh, I’d love to meet him!”

“Unfortunately, he’s on a business trip overseas. B-But when he comes back, maybe we could have dinner.”

Her smile stretched impossibly wider, her eyes glinting with a strange light as she clasped her hands together. “Dinner? Oh, how wonderful! Just like old times!”

“Y-Yeah, just like old times. You, me, um, Mingi and…dad.”

“Dad?” she echoed, her voice hollow and strained. “Your father?”

The moment the word "Dad" left your lips, her expression darkened and her grip on the knife tightened, turning her knuckles white as the blade trembled in her hand.

“No! Not him! Not while he’s married to that bitch!” she spat venomously. 

“You know, his wife didn’t love you like I did! She didn’t raise you! She wasn’t there for you!”

Her face twisted with fury, her voice rising as she screamed. “She left you behind! Do you remember that? Do you? She didn’t care about you! She abandoned you—threw you away like trash! But me? I stayed. I cared. I’m your family!”

Mingi’s ears perked up at the sound of that voice. It was her—the same woman who had tried to abduct Yena weeks ago. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but he forced his down, shifting his focus to the sights and sounds around him. In the distance, he caught fragments of Kira’s raised voice, as she argued with the District Attorney.

“She should never have been released!” 

“Her delusions weren’t just untreated, they were escalating. And instead of following protocol, the facility discharged her prematurely without an appropriate plan in place.”

Mingi’s ears flicked toward the sound as Kira’s voice grew louder, her pace quickening.

“The ruling was explicit! The family was to be notified of any changes in her care plan. But no one was! And now she’s out here, putting Y/N in danger!”

The echoes of Kira’s tirade faded into the background as Mingi tuned everything else out, his focus narrowing to a single goal. Find you. Protect you.

She won’t hurt you. I won’t let her, he promised. 

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you searched for the right words to diffuse the situation. “You’re right,” you said gently, taking a slow step forward as your eyes stayed locked on the blade.

“I should’ve done more to stay in touch. You were important to me, and I didn’t show that the way I should have.”

Mingi crept closer, staying low and moving with careful precision. His small frame blended with the shadows cast by the trees, his paws silent against the ground. His ears were pinned back as he watched the stalker. For a split second, her grip on the knife faltered. Her expression softened, dimming into something more fragile, almost childlike.

But then her face contorted again. “You’re lying!” she screamed, taking a step toward you. 

“You don’t mean that! You’re just saying that to make me go away.” She took a step closer, the knife jerking with her erratic movements.

His nose twitched, catching the faint scent of your fear mingled with her unbridled rage. Her emotions were spiraling out of control, and with every step she took, the gap between you and danger grew smaller.

“I’m not,” you said firmly, taking a careful step backwards. 

“I mean it. You were there for me when I needed someone, and I want to be here for you now. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

She hesitated, the knife wavering slightly in her grip. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like your words might be getting through.

Mingi inched closer, his eyes tracking her trembling hand, and his body tensed, ready to spring.

“You’ll leave me again! Just like her!”

That was his cue. With a burst of speed, Mingi darted forward, his small body a blur of motion. His sharp teeth clamped down on her ankle, eliciting a startled cry. She stumbled, but her fury only intensified. She lashed out blindly, her hand sweeping through the air, the knife flashing dangerously.

“Maro!” you screamed. 

Without hesitation, you lunged forward, your heart pounding as you reached for her wrist. Your grip was firm, fueled by adrenaline and sheer determination as you kicked her back, sending her stumbling slightly. With a swift motion, you scooped Mingi into your arms, cradling him against your chest.

As she steadied herself, her arm swung wildly and you raised your arm to shield Mingi. The knife sliced through your forearm leaving streaks of blood, but you didn’t let go, tightened your hold on him as you focused on the woman in front of you.

“I’m sorry you lost your daughter,” you began, your tone water as you tried to bite back the pain radiating down your arm.  

“I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been carrying, or how much it’s changed you. I’m sure whatever happened broke you in ways no one can see. But trying to replace her won’t bring her back.”

You could see the tears threatening to spill over, but they did nothing to soften her. If anything, they seemed to fuel her anger. Her grip on the knife tightened as she took a shaky step toward you. Your heart pounded and Mingi whimpered softly, pressing his small body closer to yours, and you instinctively held him tighter, bracing yourself.

“Police! Drop your weapon!” 

“Y/N!” your dad’s voice rang out. You turned your head just enough to see him running toward you, San and Kira close behind, flanked by a group of police officers.

The stalker froze, her head snapping toward the source of the commotion. Her grip on the knife faltered, and for a split second, you thought she might comply. But then her face contorted with fury once more, and she tightened her hold, her body tensing as if preparing to lunge.

“Stay back!” she screamed, her voice shrill and panicked.

The officers fanned out, their weapons drawn, their voices calm but firm as they repeated their commands. “Drop the knife! Put it down now!”

Your dad reached you first, his hand gripping your shoulder as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Are you hurt?” he asked urgently, his sharp eyes taking in the blood streaking down your arm and the puppy trembling in your hold.

“She cut me,” you admitted, glancing at the blood streaking down your arm. “It’s not deep, but—” You shifted Mingi slightly in your hold, cradling him closer. 

Mingi let out a soft, sleepy sigh, his head resting heavily against your chest as your dad checked you over. His breaths came slower now, each one softer than the last. His little paws twitched as though he were trying to cling to you.

His mind wandered, a hazy string of thoughts pulling him along. He couldn’t wait to go home, to finally feel safe and warm. He imagined curling up in your lap, nuzzling into your arms while you stroked his fur. He thought about Hetmon and all the running around they’re going to do at the park.

Oh, and snacks, he thought sleepily. Lots of snacks. His little tail gave a faint twitch at the thought, but even that felt like too much effort now.

Just a nap, he thought. I’ll rest for a bit, then we’ll go home. We’ll be okay.

When Mingi woke, the air around him was...different. It wasn’t the plush sheets of your bed or the soft pillow he’d grown accustomed to sleeping on. Instead, he found himself in a small, cozy basket lined with a soft cushion, placed near a gently crackling fireplace. 

He blinked, his vision adjusting to the soft light streaming through the windows of a small cottage. The space was intimate, with wooden walls lined with shelves overflowing with books, plants, and stacks of parchment. The scent of tea and ink hung in the air, faint but familiar, tugging at something deep in Mingi’s memory.

The atmosphere was comforting, nostalgic even, though Mingi couldn’t quite place why. 

“Ah,” the man said, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You’re finally awake.”

Mingi’s ears perked up as he turned toward the sound. A man crouched next to him–his features were sharp but his expression was soft and kind. Mingi tilted his head, his ears twitching as he studied the man. He’d never met him before, but his scent was unmistakable. 

It was audacious and bold, much like the jazz notes he remembered sitting on the piano back at home. 

Kim Hongjoong?

<< v | vii >>

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[gotta-winwin]

𓆩🖤𓆪 ... falling in love through songs pt.1 - teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

💬 preview: you really wished someone would've told you that the rockstar you'd be photographing for on his tour was Hansol from school. Yes, that Hansol. Your ex-boyfriend Hansol.

tw/cw: rockstar!vernon x photographer!reader, second chance romance, exes to lovers, sworn enemies to lovers, forced proximity, a cheeky joshua, lots of banter full tw will be posted with the full fic

🪽fic rating/teaser rating: pg/16+

🪽tentative release date: jan 20

☁️ masterlist & a/n: here i am once again with a vernon fic, but this time to kick off our 500 followers event! this one is based on the song heart out by the 1975, one especially close to my own heart.

this is a part of my 500 followers event

“Hear me out.” Joshua spread his arms as if to hug the air in front of him. “The two of us, on tour, in a tour bus, a fat paycheck.” 

You pursued your lips, biting back a smile. His proposition had sounded tempting even over the phone, where he had offered you a photography job on the tour he was managing, a spot on the bus and front row seats to every show. 

“It’ll be fun!” He continued, driving the nail in further. “The guy I manage- he’s a chill dude, great rockstar. You’d get along great.” 

“What did you say his name was again?” You asked, looking over the contract he had given you one more time. 

“Vernon.” Joshua nudged your arm, pushing you to sign. “C’mon. It’ll be like the old days again, bandwagoning across the country in the name of making art.” He placed the last words in air quotations as he smiled. “And the paycheck doesn’t hurt.”

“Not at all.” It was a ridiculous amount of money. “When do we start?”

Clapping his hands, Joshua looked joyous to have you along. “First concert’s tomorrow, right here in New York. It starts at 8, but come earlier so you can meet the band first. I’ll introduce you to Vernon- oh, he’s going to be so psyched to see you.” 

As much as you loved his enthusiasm, the jitters of having such a high profile job was catching up to you, once again reminding you just how high the stakes were. You needed this job, for the money, for the recognition it’d give you - you needed it all. 

Flashing Joshua a bright smile, you nodded, looking more confident than you felt. “Great. I’ll go home, pack my things, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Alright, sunshine.” Joshua chuckled as you struggled to put your coat back on, your childhood nickname rolling off his tongue like second nature. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“This was not the fucking deal, Josh.” 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you stared, open-mouthed at the boy in front of you, decked out in silver chains, ripped jeans and sporting a backwards baseball cap. He all but screamed rockstar, yet you keep circling back to the fact that-

“Hansol?” 

-the fact that you knew him. Very well, in fact.

“Y/N?” 

He seemed just as astonished to see you, eyes darting suspiciously towards Joshua. “This, is my tour photographer?” 

“This?” You cried out indignantly, turning to Joshua as well. “Did it just not cross your mind to mention that your rockstar happened to be Hansol from school?” 

“Well-” Joshua put his hands up in defence, the large grin on his face betraying how much he was enjoying the moment. “Surprise?” 

“Joshua!” Both you and Vernon yelled out, anger escaping as the two of you contemplated whether or not throttling Joshua would be worth the consequences.

“I am not staying on a tour bus with her.” Vernon pointed an accusatory finger your way. “Especially not for four months. I’d rather throw myself off a cliff.” 

“I’d rather chop off my own finger and eat it.” You hissed back, equally disgusted at the idea of sharing your space with him. 

“Contract’s signed.” Joshua shrugged, his eyes dancing with mirth as he watched the two of you glare daggers at one another. “Jeez. It’s like the air in here could kill or something.”

“I do not want to breathe the same air as him.” You stabbed a finger at Vernon.

“I hope you choke on it and die.” He punctuated the last word with fervor. 

“Ditto.” 

Joshua let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m starting to regret this. Were you guys always this...stabby?” 

“Yes.” Chan poked his head out from the green room. “Ever since they broke up they’ve been literal bitches. Whatever happened to hey, Chan, we’ll still be friends! This won’t break the friend group apart!” He frowned, disapprovement evident on his face. Time still hadn’t erased the betrayal he had felt when the two of you broke up, killing their friend group with suffocating silence. 

“Whatever.” Vernon muttered, turning away, shoving his in-ears back into his ears. “Stay away from me.” 

“With the utmost pleasure.” 

[sickeddyville]

In Your Arms

Pair: zayne x reader

Prompt: you moved into a new city, but everything is a reminder of him

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Comfort

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: strong emotional scene, physical intimacy (slight making out), zayne's evol slightly getting out of hand.

Note: sorry yall (not srry) its still angst (hehe), but trust they will meet again🙂‍↕️. This is my first time posting stories, ty guys for reading it!! I hope u guys enjoyed this series 🩵🩵

Part 1 | Part 2

You stepped off the train, your heart still pounding in your chest as you adjusted to the steady atmosphere of the terminal. You had done what you thought was necessary. What you believed was the best for the both of you.

The bright lights of the terminal and the busy sounds of people moving around you felt like they were in a different world, one that didn't quite match what you were feeling. You had told yourself that you'd be free here, But every corner, every step forward only made you feel more distant from yourself.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You had hoped for peace, to breathe without thinking about what had happened—what you'd left behind. But there was no escape from reality. Zayne's name flashed on the screen, and with a shaky breath, you ignored it.

But it didn't stop. The messages kept coming, and the little pinging sound seemed to echo in your mind, gnawing at your thoughts like a constant reminder of him. He wasn't letting go.

♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡

It had been a week since I left, I had changed everything–my phone number, my socials– everything that could possibly lead Zayne back to me. I even talked to Tara, just in case he asks her about my whereabouts. I couldn't bear the thought of him finding me. It was better this way.

Winter had finally come and the streets are blanketed in snow and ice.

I stepped into the warm cafe, hoping the warmth of a hot chocolate might just be the one to distract me, even for a little while. As I browsed the menu, a young couple caught my attention. They stood a few feet away, their laughter soft and carefree.

"What do you think we should get?" the girl asked, her eyes scanning the display.

The guy leaned in, his gaze settling on the colorful tray of macarons. "The macarons look tasty," he said with a grin.

My chest tightened, the words striking a nerve I didn't expect. Zayne loves macarons, always eyeing them whenever we passed by a bakery. He'd get a box and insist we share, though he'd always end up eating most of them. I shook my head, forcing myself to move on.

As I stepped out of the cafe, I took a sip of my drink, but it did little to nothing in comforting me against the biting chill of the air.

Ahead of me, a little boy tugged on his mother's coat, his tiny voice cutting through the cold air.

"Mom, can I have a popsicle? Please?" His mother stopped in her tracks, turning to him with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "A popsicle? Are you serious? It's freezing out here!" she scolded.

The boy pouted, crossing his arms. "But I really want one," he muttered under his breath, "Not a chance," his mother replied firmly, taking his hand and pulling him along. "We'll get something warm when we're home."

I couldn't help the faint smile tugging at my lips, as I continued walking, the cold biting harder with every step. My thoughts swirled with the past I was desperately trying to leave behind, the memories I couldn't seem to shake. I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck, quickening my pace towards my apartment.

Macarons, Popsicle, Snow, Ice, Zayne— I froze mid-step, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But when I looked again, there he was. Standing by the gate of my small apartment, hands shoved in his coat pockets

My heart stopped, and panic surged through me like fire in my veins. He noticed me and I marched toward him, with each step heavy and cold.

"What are you doing here?" My voice shaking with frustration and something else-something I couldn't quite place.

"Shall we go inside?" he asked gently, like he hadn't just ruined everything I'd worked so hard to build over the past week.

I didn't want him here. Not now. I needed him to leave. So I repeated, "You're not supposed to be here."

He ignored my words completely, as if they didn't matter to him. He let himself in and held the gate for me. Knowing this is a battle I can't win, I lead the way in defeat.

I opened the door and let him in, the air between us growing thick. As he sank into the couch, I stood my ground, keeping my distance. My face remained unreadable, hiding any trace of emotion.

"Come back home with me" he said his voice gentle but firm.

Frustration bubbled up inside me. This wasn't supposed to be happening. "Leave," I said, trying to sound firm, but it cracked as I spoke, betraying the fear and pain I had been holding inside. "Please..."

He didn't even acknowledge what I said. His eyes were full of that familiar, unwavering determination, and he stood up and took another step closer. "Should I help you pack or...?"

"Zayne" I interrupted, my voice barely above a whisper, as I backed away, but he just closed the distance instantly, reaching out to touch my arm.

I shoved him with all my frustration going forward, "Why are you doing this to me?" He caught my wrists easily, pulling me against his chest.

"Why don't you listen to me?" I cried, trashing against him, yet his hands held firm and steady, as if my struggle meant nothing to him.

"Just. Leave. Me. Be!" Each word came with a punch, my fists colliding with his chest in desperate defiance. But his hold only tightened, encircling me with a grip that left me no room to escape.

I'm exhausted, my knees giving up, and the tears start streaming, hot and fast, burning down my cheeks. I stopped fighting. I was unable to hold it together anymore. It all came crashing down.

He held me tightly, not letting go, as if he was trying to keep me from breaking any further.

"I dont care about what has happened or what's about to come." "But I need you, Y/N. My life does not serve a single purpose without you in it." he whispered, his voice full of raw emotion. In that moment, all I could do was cry.

I didn't know how to say what was in my heart. I didn't know how to tell him that this was never about not wanting him, but about wanting him too much.

He held me gently but insistent, like he was grounding me, holding me together. And for a moment, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything could be okay.

"I'm not going anywhere," Zayne murmured softly, his breath warm against my hair. "No matter what you think, I'm not leaving, not without you."

I'm crying uncontrollably against him. I couldn't help it anymore. I realized that nothing had changed. We were still stuck in this tangled mess of fate, the curse looming over us, and the future uncertain.

Yet in that moment, in his arms, I felt as though I could hold onto him forever—as if it made the world pause, and I might never have to let him go.

♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡--♡

Zayne moved around the apartment like it was his home, adjusting things here and there as though trying to make it feel like it wasn't just a place I had escaped into. He was patient with me, never pushing for answers I wasn't ready to give.

He seemed to understand the space I needed, but I knew, deep down, he was waiting for me to speak, to finally say what was in my heart.

Later that night, as we sat together on the couch, the silence was finally broken. Zayne turned to me, his gaze soft yet serious, his voice low.

"We'll figure this out," Zayne added, his voice thick with emotion. "Together."

"If you're scared I'm going to run away again... I won't." I chuckled softly, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "Probably not anymore," I said, my attempt at humor faltering slightly as I added, "I mean, there's no point. You'll find me anyway."

Zayne didn't laugh. Instead, his expression softened, and he placed his hands gently over mine. "I'm serious, Y/N. No more games. Stay with me. Please." His voice was so sincere, so filled with emotion, that it broke something inside me.

I inched closer, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes searched mine, a quiet plea in them. Slowly, I cupped his face, my thumb brushing across his cheeks.

He leaned into my touch, his breath hitching. And then, as if the world around us had melted away, he closed the distance between us, his lips crashing against mine. As he suddenly shifted forward, making me lie back on the couch beneath him, his hands moved to the back of my head, cushioning it. His weight settled on top of me, his body pressing into mine.

I kissed him back, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer, trying to merge our bodies into one.

The kiss wasn't gentle–no, it was urgent, as though he couldn't wait any longer to feel me, to know I was still here, still with him. His lips were insistent, demanding, but there was softness too, a silent confession of the love he holds for me.

I weave my hands into his hair as I pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, and it felt like every part of me was drawn to him, as if this kiss was the only thing that could fill the empty space between us.

We pulled away for a second, our foreheads barely apart. Quickly, our lips found each other again– It was more than just a need, it was instinct; clinging to the connection that felt as vital as air we breath.

Suddenly, Zayne pulled away. We're both panting for air, and that's when I saw it–the snowflakes drifting softly around us. His evol...

"Zayne, are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft but urgent.

His eyes met mine, still flickering with an icy storm, but he shook his head slightly. "I'm fine," he said, his voice low and strained. "Did I hurt you?"

I frowned, I sat up, my hands gripping his shoulders tighter. "No, But your evol-"

"Don't worry," he said quickly, brushing off my concern as if it were nothing. "It'll be fine in a few moments"

I shifted closer, our knees brushing, I cupped his face and kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes, his breath uneven as he tried to steady himself. I gave his hands a gentle squeeze before standing and reaching for him. "Come on," I said softly, tugging him toward me. "Let's go to bed, Zayne. You need to rest."

As we lay down, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me close.

"Goodnight, Zayne," I murmured, my head resting against his chest, "Goodnight, my love" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

The snowflakes drifts slower and slower until they vanished entirely, dissolving into thin air like a fleeting memory. His body slowly warming up and his breath becoming steady.

As the night settled into quiet stillness, Zayne, always so aware, still held me close, his arms around me tight, as if fearing I would slip away if he let go. His grip was firm, yet tender, and it was the kind of hold that spoke of both reassurance and fear.

I lay there, my head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His breathing slowed, the tension in his body easing as he drifted off, but his arms remained securely wrapped around me, unwilling to let me go. It was almost as if, in his sleep, he was making sure that I was truly there and safe.

I tried to move, to adjust the pillow beneath me, but his hold only tightened. A quiet, soft murmur escaped his lips, something like a plea in whisper, but the words were too faint to make out. His body was warm against mine, and I felt the weight of the night settle around us, a heavy comfort I never wanted to leave.

I didn't protest, didn't try to pull away, knowing that his need for closeness–his silent need for security–was just as real as mine.

Slowly, sleep began to claim me as well, but before I fully surrendered, I pressed my hand gently over his, letting him know I was still there, still holding on.

In the quiet darkness, we found peace, bound together by something far stronger than any past, any curse, or any fear.

[brklynbxby]

Leo stood rooted to the spot, the weight of Aida’s words crashing into him like waves against a cliff. His jaw tightened, a muscle flickering beneath his skin, and his eyes, dark and stormy, burned with a raw mix of emotions—hurt, disbelief, frustration. He wanted to cling to the anger, to let the bitterness he’d carried for years rise up and shield him from the vulnerability threatening to crack through. But as her trembling voice wrapped around him, as her hands gripped his sleeve like it was the only thing anchoring her to the moment, that anger began to fray, unraveling thread by thread, no matter how tightly he held on. His lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came. Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her. The way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the way color bloomed high on her cheeks, and the way her chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath. She was close now, too close, and the heat radiating from her seemed to seep into his skin, setting him alight. He could see the tremor in her fingers where they clung to him, feel the electricity crackling in the scant space between them. The air was thick, charged with something dangerous and unspoken, a magnetic tension neither dared to break. 

"Do you have any idea what that did to me?" His voice was low and jagged, as if pulled from somewhere deep within him. "What it felt like to have you tear me down every chance you got? And now you’re standing here, telling me it was all because you couldn’t handle your feelings? That’s… that’s really fucking messed up, Aida." His head shook, his expression a mix of disbelief and something sharper, something vulnerable he couldn’t quite hide. "Really. Fucking. Messed. Up." He exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his dark, unruly hair, his fingers trembling at the edges. The same girl who had made him hate himself, question his worth, and doubt his place in the world was now standing here, saying she’d always felt the opposite. It was like the ground beneath him was shifting, and he didn’t know how to stop it. 

"Damn it, Aida..." His voice softened, rough around the edges but laced with something almost tender. He pushed off of the counter and started pacing up and down the kitchen. His eyes searched hers each time he faced her again, dark and intense, as though he was desperate to find the truth in her confession. "Why does it still feel like you’re the only one who gets under my skin? Like you’re still in my head after all these years, no matter how hard I try to forget you?" He broke off, a hollow laugh escaping him, tinged with frustration. "I fought a guy out there because I didn’t like the way he touched you, the way he talked to you. And for what? Why the hell should I care about any of that?" His voice cracked, and he ran a hand down his face as though trying to wipe away the feelings spilling over as he continued pacing. But the words kept coming, pouring out in a torrent he couldn’t control. "Why should I care about some guy who talks shit to you? Or touches you like that? Or the fact that you’re letting someone wear your ex’s clothes? Or who you patch up after a fight? Or who you say all this shit to?" He continued as though his exterior was pushing all of this out before he could really process that he did. He gave a damn about it all. And that's exactly why they were stood here right now. He swallowed hard and stopped pacing, his chest rising and falling as though the weight of everything was finally too much. He was now stood on the opposite side of the kitchen to her. The realisation hit him all at once, breaking down every wall he’d built to keep her out. She had pushed him into this version of himself, into the man he’d fought to become. Her brutal honesty, her merciless teasing—they had shaped him, forced him to find strength he hadn’t known he possessed. He hated her for it, but god, he was grateful, too. His gaze flicked to hers, and the tension between them reached a fever pitch, the air charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid. The fire in her eyes only fueled the one burning in him, and before he could think better of it, he moved.

With a growl of frustration and desire, Leo surged forward, his large, muscular arm snaking around her waist in one fluid motion. His forearm, strong and corded with sinew, pressed firmly against the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. The heat of his body enveloped hers as his free hand slid up, fingers threading into her hair at the nape of her neck, his grip firm but gentle, anchoring her to him. And then his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was a storm, wild and consuming, a heady mix of frustration, longing, and years of unspoken emotions finally unleashed. His lips were rough yet searching, demanding yet vulnerable, tasting of everything they had been too afraid to say. 

Aida’s eyes widened in disbelief as Leo spoke, the words sinking in like a heavy weight. You’re confused? She couldn’t believe it. After everything, he still didn’t know how she felt about him. She stood there, her heart thudding in her chest, feeling a mixture of disbelief and frustration. How could he not know? How had he not seen it back then, when she was so stupid, so naïve? She’d wanted him then, too—maybe even more than she wanted to admit, but instead, she’d taken the easy way out, hiding behind cruelty and teasing. She hated who she used to be. The guilt that followed her now felt like a weight she couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard she tried.

She inhaled sharply, pushing the thought of her teenage self aside. She wasn't that person anymore. She wanted to tell him that, wanted to explain, but the words tangled in her throat.

"I—" Her voice faltered before she steadied herself, forcing her gaze to meet his. “I didn’t know how to tell you back then. I couldn’t even admit it to myself." She bit her lip, a frustrated sigh escaping her as she stepped closer, the words tumbling out, each one heavier than the last. “I thought you were cute back then, Leo. I really did. I don’t know why I acted like I didn’t. You were this adorable nerd, with your big glasses and your shy smile, and I... I just couldn’t handle it. I didn’t know how to handle you—I was too busy trying to be someone I wasn’t. Trying to fit in. And now, I’m standing here, hearing you say that you dont think i want you, and I—I don’t know what to do with that."

Her breath quickened, the reality of what she was saying hitting her all at once. The guilt of how she’d treated him back then still gnawed at her, and she could feel her chest tighten with the weight of it.

She exhaled sharply, finally speaking the words that had been buried deep within her for so long. "And yes, of course, I wanted to clean you up after that fight. But it wasn’t just that, Leo. It wasn’t just about bandages and ice packs. It was about you. It’s about you being here, with me, right now. I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you. And I’m so sorry for the way I treated you, but I can’t keep pretending that it wasn’t always you I wanted to talk to. You’ve always been the one who got under my skin, even when I tried to push you away."

Her heart was racing now, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. "I’m not that person anymore, Leo. I haven’t been for years. I want to fix this, if you’ll let me. But I need you to understand—this isn’t about the past anymore. It’s about now. And I don’t want you to walk away." Aida took a step forward, her hands trembling as she reached for his sleeve, the touch tentative, but desperate. "I need you here, Leo. I always have."

[the-sunbee]

What is family?

For a long long time, Rae only knew his family a mother who was trapped in a land he never knew of. He found his purpose in trying to find and free her. She was his family through blood. He cared for her.

Then came along two little lab assistants who cared. They brought him food, made him take breaks and listened to him when he needed to be heard. They became his family through choice. He loved them.

Through horrid pain he found out that a woman, a goddess, who had tortured his friends and used them as tools, was his second mother. She was his family through blood. He loathed her.

He came to learn that he had a sibling somewhere, wandering the world. He found hope in that knowledge; hope that one day he could find his blood family. He held out hope.

And then he found them. Through the God of Creation, he found his brother. They ran into each others open and waiting arms, thanking the world that they finally found each other. They were his blood family. He loved them.

His brother also had a father - their family was split into two; one with the God of Creation and their mother; and one with the Goddess of the Mind and their mother. He chose the first one, hoping that they would choose him in return.

For a time, they seemed to.

His purpose shifted, wanting to free the man who claimed to be his father - not by blood, mind you, but by choice. He worked day and night, barely sleeping, through his own sickness and declining health, to find a away to free him. To free a man who claimed to be his father.

He had almost died to a sickness and a vengeful goddess to free the god, and yet when the plan had failed, the God had retaliated with a reset.

Eventually though, through hurting an another family, he saved the man who claimed to be his father. He reunited father and child in hopes that he would be chosen.

And yet, when things went wrong, when he had a moment of panic and hurt his brother once, he was cast out. He was chased out of the family who had claimed they chose him.

Instead, an another person rose. He found a connection with the Goddess of the Mind, his mother. At first, he loathed it.

But over time, as she learned to be more like a parent to him, his brother and supposed father's presence faded from his side.

And then he died. He died, giving his powers to a man who called him a bastard. He was brought back to life with his mother's final choice. She had chosen to love him, and in turn, he loved her.

But he lost her.

Instead he was left in a world with a man, who's words were so foul and wrong, who twisted every promise and good thing into a nightmare. Such a horrid nightmare that his mind shattered.

His family was the one who helped him. The nephews who, throughout the years, still chose him as a family every single day; the friends he cared and loved as did they; and his partners, who he found home within, all came to his rescue.

His brother and supposed father were nowhere near.

When he returned, when his mind pieced itself back together and he had more answers about their mother, his brother turned him away and called him a liar.

And instead his brother turned into a nightmare, molded by the God of Creation.

But he kept trying, kept finding ways to show his brother that he was still there. That he cared. That he loved them.

That all broke when his brother took a step too far. When his brother killed one of his nephews.

Icarus had fallen far before, but this was the final strike.

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.

[embbarnes]

Sugar Plums. | W.S

summary: The soldier has an attachment to you.

warnings: Suggestive 18+ MDNI & Fluff | Winter Soldier!Bucky | Brief mentions of PTSD | Brief talk of HYDRA | Heavy petting | Love biting/hickeys

a/n: This came to me randomly but thought it was cute and somewhat spicy. I added some fluff to balance it all out and tried to keep the sexy scenes sweet too. I see so many fics of him being super aggressive in bed and those are great, but for me I think he'd be a little more like this. Takes place after the events of CA:TWS. Contains roughly translated Russian, native speakers can correct me if anything was translated wrong. Ty. ;; wc: 5.5k

It was so awkward.

Everyone sat frozen in place, their eyes locked on the imposing figure of the Winter Soldier as he towered behind you, his piercing blue eyes methodically scanning the room and studying each occupant with an intensity that made them shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"Absolutely not!" Tony was the first to break the suffocating silence, his voice sharp and decisive as he beat Steve to speaking by a mere second. There was absolutely no way he would even consider allowing the fist of HYDRA to take up residence in his tower, treating him like he was nothing more than some lost stray that needed sheltering. "He's not staying here, no way in hell - this isn't a halfway house for reformed assassins."

"Tony, come on. HYDRA is gone, their control over him is broken," you reasoned desperately, your voice taking on a pleading tone as you gestured toward the silent figure behind you, "He's been surviving on his own for weeks, barely getting by. Just look at him...he's exhausted, malnourished, and clearly needs somewhere safe to stay and recover."

"Uh, how about no?" Tony fired back, staring at you like you had grown a second head...or like you had a towering sleeper soldier looming behind you.

Tony wasn't your favorite person in the world, but he was usually somewhat reasonable.

"There's absolutely no way that he's staying here. Have you completely lost your mind? What if he suddenly snaps or loses control and goes completely berserk, hm? What if one night those sleeper triggers buried in his brain suddenly activate and he systematically takes us out one by one in our sleep?" Tony added emphatically, his hands gesturing wildly in the air as he attempted to visualize the gruesome scenarios playing out in his mind.

"Your state-of-the-art security cameras can't give us a heads up before that happens?" You asked with dry sarcasm, your tone deliberately flat and unimpressed, clearly making a joke while you tried to find some kind of middle ground that would get the agitated, self-proclaimed playboy to calm down and think rationally.

"No chance in hell, sweet cheeks," he folded his arms and glared at you with sternness that etched across his features. "Too dangerous."

"He's staying, whether you like it or not," you replied in the same unwavering tone, standing your ground with resolute conviction. "He's hurt, weak, completely vulnerable. There's absolutely nothing he could possibly do in this state. He needs somewhere warm and safe to stay, especially since he's been struggling to survive out on the streets for weeks now. Besides, winter is coming fast and there’s no way he won’t get hypothermia or something." You added with concern, knowing full well that while the soldier hadn't been entirely helpless during his ordeal, he certainly hadn't managed to secure any kind of stable shelter.

His temporary refuges consisted only of cold spaces beneath bridges, dark corners tucked away in forgotten alleys, or the remains of abandoned buildings - not a single place where he could truly let his guard down or feel protected from the harsh elements. With winter's rapid approach and already light dustings of snow, the temperatures would only get more brutal as the nights went on.

You continued to argue with Tony, Steve butting in every so often, luckily siding with you, desperate to have his old friend somewhere safe. It was a long, frustrating argument that lasted much longer than need be.

Earlier that day, while you had been making your way down the frost-covered street of New York's downtown district, his eyes had caught sight of your familiar form. Something deep within him told him to follow you, a magnetic pull that he couldn't explain. He obeyed the instinct, trailing silently behind you all the way back to the tower. When you finally became aware of his presence, he was thoroughly drenched from the steadily falling snow, his cheeks and nose having turned a bright, rosy color from the biting cold as he tried to suppress his constant shivering.

The moment you made your sudden turn to approach him, he visibly startled, immediately taking a defensive step backward as his mind raced through all the possible scenarios and potential threats. His eyes darted across your face with obvious wariness as you fully turned to face him, his entire body subtly shifting its weight from foot to foot, muscles tensed and ready to bolt away.

"It's okay...you look cold..." You spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, trying not to startle him as you took in his disheveled appearance. The soldier, the one whose face had practically been plastered across every news channel, the same one Steve had spoken about with such raw emotion in his voice.

You remembered how Steve had mourned his best friend, utterly confused and devastated about why he had saved from the river, while Bucky fell to what should have been his death. Steve held onto that grief, that guilt, like a lifeline. He held onto it so desperately, clinging to the faintest hope that a sliver of Bucky was still somewhere deep inside the persona of the Winter Soldier.

Looking at him now, you couldn't see any trace of the man from Steve's stories - the soldier's eyes were too wild and wide, filled with fear and confusion.

But despite everything you'd heard, despite the destruction you'd witnessed on the news, despite the intense warnings from everyone in the tower, there was something about his presence that didn't trigger your fight or flight response.

He didn't make you feel unsafe.

He looked absolutely beat down, exhausted to his very core, his shoulders slumped in a way that made you wonder when he'd last had a moment's rest. You weren't even sure he could take you down if he tried in this state, though you knew his reputation suggested otherwise. He was shaking from the cold air as it blew in a stinging breeze, his metal arm gleaming dully in what little light remained, while the incoming winter storm brought with it a thick haze and countless tiny pinpricks of needle-like snowflakes that seemed to cut through the air.

"Come inside with me, I'll take care of you." You offered quietly, your voice gentle and reassuring as you extended your hand towards him. Your body language remained open and non-threatening, shoulders relaxed and posture deliberately casual to help put him at ease and to show him you felt no fear.

After a few silent moments where his piercing blue eyes studied you through the thick haze, he finally shifted his weight forward and took a step in your direction.

The water in the shower had set a steady steam in the bathroom, the mirror had fogged and the tiles sweat below your bare feet.

You could hear the gentle splashing of water against the bathtub as he cleaned himself. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm caught your attention, hopefully that thing was waterproof, but it must be, right?

After setting out a fresh towel and clean clothes for his use, you quietly excused yourself to provide him with privacy. The state of his current attire was awful, every piece was thoroughly saturated and carried an unmistakable stench that made you wrinkle your nose. The clothes were in such poor condition that you couldn't help but wonder if they had been scavenged from someone who no longer needed them.

You wouldn’t put it past the soldier to steal from a cadaver.

His shower routine was notably brief, years of conditioning taught him to minimize the time spent on his personal care. Upon finishing, he emerged from behind the curtain and efficiently dried himself with the provided towel. His gaze fell upon the fresh clothes you had thoughtfully placed by the sink, while his previous garments had been discreetly removed.

The soldier hesitated momentarily before donning the clean outfit. It wasn’t anything fancy, a pair of grey sweatpants emblazoned with the Avenger's logo along the side and a simple yet comfortable black tank top. When he finally emerged from the bathroom to face you, his body language betrayed his uncertainty as he stood there, not sure what to do now. Comfort was completely foreign to him, and care was a dream away.

"Tony finally gave in," you replied softly, your voice sounded in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. "He said you could stay here with us."

He remained motionless, his expression blank and unreadable as he stood there, offering neither response nor the slightest hint of acknowledgement to your words. You weren’t sure what to expect but that seemed pretty in character for him at the moment.

"You'll be staying in my quarters since no one else is comfortable having you in their space just yet...but don't worry too much about that," you reassured gently, though you could tell from his demeanor that others' opinions held little weight in his mind. "They'll come around after some time, I'm sure of it."

His gaze fixed upon you then, his brow creasing ever so slightly with an unspoken question as he began to move. Each step was deliberate and measured as he crossed the room, closing the distance between you until he stood directly in front of you, close enough that you could see the water droplets from his freshly washed hair beading at the ends and falling onto the fabric of your top, leaving dark spots where they landed.

"Everything's going to be fine," you said with gentle reassurance, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Why don't we head to the kitchen and get you something to eat? You must be hungry." You offered, hoping to bring some normalcy to the situation.

The soldier shadowed your every movement, following closely behind like a faithful companion who refused to stray from their master's side.

Upon entering the expansive kitchen, you immediately made your way to the industrial-sized refrigerator, searching through its contents for something suitable to offer him. The kitchen was perpetually stocked to the brim with an array of foods, snacks, and ingredients, practically anything one could imagine or desire. It was like having a private, fully-stocked grocery store.

Though with a the ravenous super soldier with enhanced metabolism, the mighty Asgardian god whose appetite matched his status, and Banner's surprisingly hulk-ish consumption…the team still depleted their food with an efficiency that would put a pack of famished wolves to shame.

"Hm...what should you have...do you want anything specific?" You turned over your shoulder to address him, but he maintained his characteristic silence. Unmoving, and completely stoic, like a statue carved from marble.

"Нет [No]," came his quiet response, the Russian word rolling off his tongue deeply. He remained perfectly still, observing with careful attention as you continued your search through the refrigerator's contents, trying to determine what would be most appropriate for him to eat. Your mind was working quickly, knowing you wanted to avoid anything too time-consuming to prepare. You wanted to get some food into him sooner rather than later.

"How about...I could make some soup real quick? Tomato and grilled cheese might be a safe option for you. Shouldn't upset your stomach too much if you haven’t been eating a lot, and it will warm you up if you're still feeling cold." You turned back toward him once more, studying his features carefully for any hint of reaction or preference to your suggestion, any subtle change in his expression.

But, he didn't provide even the slightest indication of his feelings.

You decided on tomato soup and a grilled cheese anyway, you figured it was best and immediately set to work in the kitchen.

Although you typically prided yourself on preparing meals completely from scratch, this particular circumstance called for something different. You assembled the sandwich, buttering the bread before placing it in a heated pan to get a golden-brown crust while keeping a watchful eye on the pot of soup simmering beside it, occasionally stirring for even heating.

Once everything reached the perfect temperature and consistency, you transferred the meal onto clean dishes, relieved it didn’t take too long. You presented him with the steaming bowl of soup and perfectly grilled sandwich, watching as the soldier deliberately took his place at the counter, his eyes fixed intently on the rising steam from the bowl before him.

You watched him, noting how his entire body remained unnaturally rigid and motionless, as though every muscle was locked in place and braced for something. His lips bore a slight sheen of moisture, like he had licked them at some point when you weren't watching. Yet despite his obvious hunger, he hadn't made even the slightest attempt to reach for the food. His eyes held intense longing and hesitation, briefly meeting yours before quickly darting away, as if making eye contact was somehow forbidden.

"What's wrong?" You asked with growing concern etched across your features, "You're hungry aren't you? I can tell you haven't eaten in a while. Especially not anything warm, at least. I know it can be hard out there, all by yourself…"

His response came in the form of an almost imperceptible nod, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the bowl and sandwich before him, as though they were the most important and most dangerous objects in the room.

"So why aren't you eating? The food's getting cold, it won’t be as good if it cools too much."

"Я не могу совершить действие без приказа. [I cannot perform an action without an order]," the soldier responded in barely more than a whisper, his voice carrying the weight of years of conditioning.

You stood there, completely lost in the language barrier between you. Your limited knowledge of Russian extended only to the most basic words - 'да' and 'нет' - leaving you clueless by his response and worried about the implications of his behavior.

You didn't want to wake Natasha, even though she would certainly understand what he was saying in Russian, but disturbing her sleep for something as simple as a quick translation seemed unnecessary and might put her in a bad mood. Instead, an idea popped into your head that would avoid an angry widow. You reached for your phone and placed it on the smooth counter surface, navigating to a translator app before looking up at him again. "Can you repeat that?"

The soldier's eyes flickered briefly to the phone screen, taking in the sight of the translation app with what seemed like recognition, before his gaze deliberately returned to the untouched food laid out before him. "I cannot perform an action without an order," he stated in perfect, albeit mechanical English this time.

You blinked in surprise, thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden switch to English when he had been persistently speaking Russian up until this point. "Okay...well...eat then, you can eat freely here, you don't need an order to do that." You slowly tucked your phone away into your pocket as his right hand gradually lifted from where it had been resting in his lap, reaching out to pick up the sandwich.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but he wolfed down his food within a minute, that sandwich was gone within maybe three bites. The soup swallowed just as fast.

God, he was starving, and the realization made your heart ache.

"Better?" You asked gently, to which he only nodded, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth.

This became routine, the soldier stuck by your side like a duckling imprinting on its mother.

He followed you diligently around every corner of the tower, his protective instincts activated as he positioned himself like an ever-vigilant guardian. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, noting how others would cast uncertain and sometimes suspicious glances in his direction.

These looks made him increasingly self-conscious and anxious, as though he were some exotic creature put on display at a zoo for others to gawk at. But in your presence, he seemed a bit more at ease. He genuinely liked being around you.

Gradually, the rigid tension that had defined his existence began to melt away, and he started allowing more intimate gestures of care. He let you gently brush his unruly hair into place, carefully wash his face with warm water, or trim his growing stubble for him.

He accepted these tender ministrations without the slightest resistance or complaint, though a nagging worry lingered in your mind that his compliance stemmed from years of conditioning to submit to others' wishes. Each time you worried about that, you’d see a genuine warmth and contentment in his gaze rather than submission, showing you that he truly found comfort and pleasure in your gentle touch.

It was evening, the room reflected the warm glow of festive holiday lights emanating from a miniature Christmas tree nestled in the corner. The soldier found himself transfixed by the small decorated tree, his eyes lingering on each twinkling light as their vibrant colors danced and shimmered. The sterile, monotonous walls he had grown accustomed to during his confinement were nothing compared to the colorful lights. The gentle play of red, green, and gold seemed to awaken something long dormant within him, he almost wanted to plant himself in front of the tree and just stare at it.

Tony may have allowed his stay, but that didn’t mean there weren’t restrictions. He was stern about where and when the soldier could go anywhere with you, and he demanded that he not leave your room afterhours. It wasn’t hard to follow, the solider showed reluctance to leave your room at all, having been so accustomed to being kept in one room. You didn’t push him, but you felt bad for him because he was missing how the tower had been decorated for the holidays. So, you got a smaller tree for the bedroom to provide some kind of festive look for him to take in.

You emerged from the bathroom, wisps of steam following in your wake, your damp hair leaving little droplets on your shoulders as you continued to towel it dry with scrunches. He remained motionless on the edge of your bed, his attention immediately shifting as he turned and blinked up at your approaching figure.

His icy eyes traced a deliberate path across your form, which was barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the hem teasingly brushing against your mid-thigh with each movement. "I am beat," you sighed heavily, your voice carrying the weight of the day's festivities. The marathon of holiday activities had clearly taken its toll, leaving you thoroughly drained. The tower often held an array of things to do because Tony loved to show off what he could afford, and it wasn’t like anyone else would object.

He observed with rapt attention as you made your way onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, releasing a deep exhale that seemed to melt away the day's tension. His unwavering gaze remained fixed on the rhythmic, hypnotic motion of your chest rising and falling with each breath.

You felt the bed shift beneath you as he moved, his weight causing the mattress to dip and creak softly. He crawled over to where you lay, his arms positioning themselves on either side of your body, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered open to find him hovering directly above you, his presence overwhelming in its proximity. This was something new…he had always maintained somewhat of a distance before, never daring to position himself so intimately over top of you.

"Я скомпрометирован. [I'm compromised]," the soldier spoke in a hushed tone, his voice carrying that distinctive gravelly pitch that made you feel tingly. The tension between you had become damned near impossible to ignore. What had started as a subtle pull had grown into an overwhelming force of attraction that seemed to draw you both together like magnets.

Still, you forced yourself to hold back, maintaining that last thread of restraint. You had no way of knowing the depth of his emotional capacity, if he was even capable of genuine feelings, or wanted to experience them at all after everything he endured.

"Soldat...?" The whispered word escaped your lips as you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his muscles tensed as he remained suspended above you, perfectly still. "You know I don't understand-"

"I am compromised," he repeated, switching to English this time. His voice had dropped even lower, carrying an edge of frustration that vibrated through the minimal space between your bodies.

"Comprom..." You sat up slowly on your elbows and shook your head in confusion, your brow furrowed as you tried to process his words. That’s what you’d say about a machine or computer, not a man. "What are you talking about?" Your eyes wandered downward, suddenly drawn to an unmistakable tent in his fitted briefs that became obvious from your new viewing angle, causing you to freeze in place as your breath caught in your throat.

So, he could feel things.

"Oh..." You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you remained frozen in place, your cheeks growing warm. "I think I understand now...you're feeling a bit pent up, aren't you?"

His metal arm whirred softly, the sophisticated machinery humming as he moved to adjust his hand placement. "Да. [Yes]," he responded in a low voice, his gleaming titanium fingertips delicately ghosted across the bare skin of your thigh, just barely grazing beneath the hem of your thin sleep shirt. Goosebumps erupted along your body in response to the contact, the cool metal sudden against your flushed skin.

"Мне не нравится делиться вашим вниманием. [I don't like sharing your attention]," he muttered with an undertone of possession, his lips curling into a slight frown as he gradually leaned closer to you. His silken hair delicately tickled your face as he slowly lowered himself, the tips of your noses barely grazing against each other in an intimate gesture. His lips parted ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head down, warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.

You swallowed reflexively, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his warm, steady breath caress your sensitive skin, sending a visible shudder of growing excitement through your body.

He continued his gentle exploration, encouraged by your acceptance and the absence of any resistance. He pressed a trail of soft, purposeful kisses along the curve of your jaw, each one more intimate than the last, before gradually working his way down to your neck. His lips carefully followed the rhythmic flutter of your pulse beneath your skin, his tongue peeking out shyly to touch against you.

"Ah-" You voiced softly, feeling him settle on a particularly sensitive spot, right against the delicate side of your neck. It was nestled perfectly between the graceful junction where your neck connected to your collarbone, the skin there warm and inviting, holding a faint trace of blood flow from the intricate network of smaller veins positioned just beneath the surface.

He kissed many times with increasing intensity, clearly finding this spot ideal for his attentions. The soft, tentative pecks gradually became more passionate, open-mouthed kisses as each one was placed. His tongue began gently pressing against your skin with each lingering kiss, the pressure slowly growing in need. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth when he finally latched on, your eyes widening in surprise as the soldier's strong arms held you a little tighter.

Soldat began to suckle a mark, his ministrations gentle and teasing at first, but quickly growing in force and intensity as his skilled tongue swirled expertly around the trapped skin between his lips and teeth. The sensation drew a breathy moan from deep within you, making your entire body feel as though it were engulfed in flames of desire. Though you were completely helpless beneath the assassin, you had absolutely no intention or desire to push him away.

This felt too damned good.

Without thinking, your leg came up and hooked around his hips, drawing him closer until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat between you grew and you felt his painful erection trapped in his briefs, straining against the fabric as his arousal was staining them. Soldat exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening possessively, but he did not let go.

His suckling grew increasingly intense, the sensitive skin tingling and starting to sting and burn with each passing moment. Still, he didn't release the bruised skin just yet.

Instead, he just bit down harder, ensuring the mark he left would last for days. You moaned loudly, your fingers gently tangling in his thick hair as your pleasured sounds encouraged his attention. He became more attentive when your little sounds of pleasure turned into sharp, quiet hisses - clearly indicating that the sensation had crossed from pleasure into discomfort, silently telling him to ease off.

When he did finally relent, he pulled back to admire his handiwork, looking down at the deep purple mark blooming on your neck. His breath came in heavy pants through his parted lips as he stayed quiet, watching intently as you struggled to catch your own breath too. The sight of you beneath him, disheveled and vulnerable, with flushed skin and labored breathing, was enough to draw him right back in.

He dipped back down with renewed hunger, his metal hand slowly threading through your hair before gently fisting it at the base of your skull, though his careful control ensured it wasn’t painful, just firm. He tugged just enough to guide your movement, encouraging you to expose more of your neck to his hungry gaze.

"E-easy..." You whispered, a note of anxious anticipation in your voice. You wanted more, god you wanted more, but his sudden change of behavior was a bit surprising for you.

"Понял. [Understood]," he whispered against your skin, pressing a soft kiss of reassurance to your jaw before returning his attention to your neck. Those soft kisses began again, trailing along your skin, but his restraint didn't last long as he quickly sought a new canvas for another mark. He latched onto a spot just a little bit higher on your neck, alternating between sucking and carefully controlled bites to gradually darken and bruise the sensitive flesh.

You felt bite after delicious bite, hickey after possessive hickey.

He marked the tender flesh of your neck in several deep, purple marks that bloomed like violent flowers across your skin...each one throbbing with a sweet ache when he pulled away. His tongue always swirled over the mark with care to soothe the sting of it, making you arch into his touch as you fell into a complete daze.

"S-Soldat," you muttered breathlessly, cheeks flushed crimson and eyelids heavy with desire. Your pupils matched his own - completely blown with hunger and desperate need. Those bermuda swirls meeting yours as he continued a torturously slow trail of hot kisses down your chest, nipping your collarbone with just enough pressure to make you gasp before following the gentle dip of your sternum.

He paused deliberately, pulling up so he could lift the thin sleep shirt over you and expose more of your bare chest to his hungry gaze, giving him better access for his heated kisses and teasing nips. Once your top was discarded somewhere on the floor, his hands gently but firmly held your sides, trailing up with reverent touches until settling against your ribcage. His larger hands completely encompassed your torso, making you feel small but protected.

The soldier was absolutely transfixed at the sight of your breasts, eyeing the soft mounds and peaked nipples as they hardened in the cool air, growing increasingly sensitive and rosy with your mounting arousal. It was like he was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, the fucking Winter Soldier, the most dangerous assassin in history, stopped dead in his tracks at the mere sight of your bare breasts.

You felt in charge now.

"What is it? Do you like them?" you purred softly to the soldier, your body swaying in a deliberately teasing motion that made them gently move. His eyes remained fixed, drinking in the sight before him as his lips parted ever so slightly. Slowly, his head tilted down again, surrendering to the moment. He let his face nestle against your chest, his lips trailing a constellation of unhurried kisses across your skin.

He began to nip and suckle the tender skin of your breasts, his mouth working to create deep, purple love bites on that delicate flesh. The bruising blossomed easily beneath his ministrations, almost like they were eager to show themselves.

His lips would find a promising spot, then he would begin lapping at the skin with gentle strokes of his tongue until he felt you squirming. The soldier took the sensitized flesh carefully between his teeth, rolling the captured skin while his talented muscle swirled and sucked.

Your chest displayed his passionate handiwork when he finally drew back to admire his creation. The plum-colored bruises created an intimate pattern across your skin, their rich hues made even more striking by the soft glow of the holiday lights that danced through the room, highlighting each carefully placed love bite until they seemed to shimmer like twilight stars against your flesh.

"Soldat...I think you covered enough surface area," you breathed, feeling overwhelmed by the intense throbbing that radiated from each mark he'd left. The sensation pulsed in waves across your skin, making it difficult to focus. Your neck was thoroughly covered in the passionate marks, and now your chest bore an equally impressive collection.

The soldier gazed down at you with intensely, his eyes taking in each little sugar plum bruise that decorated your skin like a masterpiece. Though they were scattered without any deliberate pattern, the overall effect clearly pleased him. You lay there looking thoroughly affected by his attention, hair mussed and breathing uneven, cheeks beautifully darkened with a dust of blush, just from his careful application of bites alone. The sight of you in such a state, marked so thoroughly, brought deep set satisfaction in his gut.

"Моя теперь. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own. The almost-kiss was delicate, just the faintest brush of contact that sent electricity dancing through your nerves. He almost seemed nervous to close that final distance, his confidence faltering despite the passionate trail of marks he had already left scattered across your skin.

He drew back slightly, seemingly snapping out of a trance, and you could see the vulnerability written plainly across his features as that nervousness flickered in his eyes. Shifting his weight, he settled back onto the bed, his right hand finding your knee and tracing gentle, soothing circles there with his thumb. The tender gesture matched his hushed voice as he spoke, "Я не хочу идти дальше. [I don't want to go any further]," the words carrying both certainty and a hint of apology.

Your brow furrowed deeply as you struggled to understand what he was trying to stay, the confusion evident in the slight crease between your eyebrows and the questioning tilt of your head. You really needed to study Russian. "Do you not want to continue?" you asked slowly and carefully, focusing more on interpreting the subtle nuances in his tone rather than trying to parse the exact words he was using.

His facial expression held hesitance and uncertainty, the slight downturn of his lips and the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet yours telling you what you needed to know. Body language was his primary mode of genuine communication, and you had become very good at reading these silent signals he unconsciously broadcast.

"It's okay, we can stop," you replied with a reassuring tone, making sure to keep your voice soft to help dissipate any lingering tension he might be feeling. "Let's just lay here, okay? We can cuddle without any kind of pressure to do anything else, if you want." You offered with a warm smile, wanting him to feel that his comfort and boundaries were completely respected and that there was no expectation or obligation to continue.

This was a lot of good progress with him, you typically just cuddled or he kept to his side of the bed but he had shown you a lot of sweet affection tonight, and you loved it, it meant he was growing more confident in himself and your relationship. The evidence of his passionate yet tender attention remained visible in the form of gentle, plum-colored marks that decorated your neck and chest as you lay beside him, watching as his silent form trembled slightly beneath the heavy warmth of the thick blankets that enveloped you both.

You opened your arms, offering him a warmer space, and he quickly scooted forward, tucking himself against you. Prone to being cold, he liked being under many layers of blankets, so you made sure to provide plenty for him to not only feel warm but secure. Plus...having you to hold him always helped.

Without the worry of being a soldier, he could rest easy like this.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

[fallenhanari]

Throuples are always the answer (only half-joking honestly lol)

Rio always has it a bit rough in any route outside his own, being so devoted to and in love with Emma in every timeline. But he really is the type of guy to wish for her happiness however that manifests and to just want to continue being in her life as a friend and confidant. It's not like he's still with her just hoping that one day she gives him a chance even prior to the routes (though of course he's happy when things work out that way), he just cares about her and supports her regardless. His love for her isn't bound only to the romantic, even if his over the top fawning could give that impression.

All that said, of course deep down Silvio being her chosen is going to hurt in a distinctively different way than the other guys. And we see it in how he handles/reacts to Silvio vs, say, any of the Rhodolite princes toward the end of Silvio's route (like being more aggressive and protective, sniping at Silvio's weak spots, snarking, etc). But (and I'm gonna caveat here that I've only played Silvio's dramatic route so I don't have a full/all endings picture) Rio also gains a lot of perspective on his rocky relationship with Silvio and Silvio's own struggles and vulnerabilities that he'd kept hidden. It's not like that flips his perspective entirely, but imo you see him soften/pull back in a way he hadn't before. And to me that leads in well to how he wants to be present in both their lives later, and I don't think he's secretly all that miserable about it either.

And of course, when we get into fanon, I love the idea of all three of them together. Silvio's an ass, but he was also devoted to finding out what happened to Rio the entire time he was missing. Rio has years worth of recently unearthed issues to work through regarding Silvio, but he also learned so much he never knew about him so quickly. Both of them have a host of ingrained traumas from Silvio's mother's actions that pushed them in ways that weren't fully their fault, especially as children. Emma cares deeply for both of them and they her in return, and she probably has a very vested interest in seeing them get along to some degree in the future. If that eventually takes a turn to a situation where they're all together, then I think everyone wins even more lmao.

having a crisis…. do y’all think there could ever be a world where Emma/Silvio get together that ends up with Rio still being happy? bc I can’t 😭 like imagine your brother who takes everything from you steals the girl you’ve loved for ages after he treats her like a dick for two weeks. like omfg. I would die on spot. idk how Rio finds it in himself to be okay in any world where they are together. the angst must be unbearable. he deserves to be the happiest puppy in the entire universe, and that’s not debatable.

lesser so, but even opposite in Rio’s route we see that Silvio actually has a liking to Emma bc his fav thing about her is that she’s sassy/saucy; she’s still unlike any women he’s come across, which intrigues him and makes him want to compete with Rio more. bc he’s a tsundere asshole. they’re both my favorite boys but I can’t fathom a happy ending for all 3 of them at once and it’s killing me inside

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[yanderenightmare]

TW: slight nsfw, omegaverse

gn reader

The big, strong Alpha who is super needy and clingy with his omega mate. Utterly infatuated by you—ecstatic you finally agreed to be his. Every day is a new honeymoon, wrapping you in his big arms and lifting you off your feet, squishing you tender. Telling you you’re gorgeous, nearly getting teary-eyed when gushing over how cute and bite-sized you are, even when you’ve got sleepy eyes and bedhead, wearing what you slept in—his oversized shirt.

He just can’t handle how baby you are.

Your mating mark has only just healed—the skin thin and tender, scarring nicely into a perfect print of teeth that are unmistakably his. And still, he wants to mark you anew every single day.

You’re trying to read. Lying on the couch with a book perched atop the mass of your giant Alpha boyfriend, who has you draped under him like a thick blanket. Your chin rests on the meaty muscle of his shoulder, peaking over the blade and his broad back to the book you struggle to hold open, arms only barely reaching around his waist in the position—it’s a little straining, but it’s the best you could ask for as you have no chance telling him to get off without him looking up at you, big puppy dogs eyes on the verge of tears.

His face rests in the grove of your neck, licking and sucking the healed bite he’d left there a couple of months ago. Grazing it with his teeth, he gives it a few lingering nibbles that cause a slight sting.

“Hey, you,” you warn, like an owner calling the name of their pet when they’re doing something they know they’re not supposed to. His movement stills, teeth resting in half a bite. “The doctor said to leave it alone.”

He hums and goes back to sucking again, only tenderly kissing it.

You continue reading, but it becomes impossible as his back raises. The link of your arms breaks, not long enough to sustain the stretch, and your book pays the price, lost in the struggle and falling to a close on the floor.

You sigh with a blank stare at the ceiling above, thinking—this is hopeless.

Meanwhile, he continues unbothered, mouthing along your artery up to your ear. You shy away from the tickle, and he moves on to your cheek.

“Hey—”

He eats the protest from your lips, replacing it with his tongue. You don’t push him away—it would only make him whine, so you indulge him. He growls softly as you open your mouth for him.

His hands squeeze your waist impatiently, slipping beneath the band of your boxer shorts and immediately grabbing both handfuls of your ass—lifting you and slotting himself between your thighs. The bulge is enough to make you moan.

“Geez…” you mumble once your lips part, speaking thickly with breaths “It’s like a never-ending rut with you.”

His voice is even worse off. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” A continuous whimper laces each syllable, all but feeding you the words, unable to keep his lips off you. “I need you so bad it hurts.”

Beneath the whining, there’s a rumble in his chest. You feel it as you put your hands on his chest, a low running growl pushed down and kept there as he does all in his power to hold back.

You cup his big jaw with both your hands, looking at his miserable face with a sigh, “What am I supposed to do with you?” You look him square in the eye with strictness. His hands all but quake, giving you the silent look of pleading, begging for your mercy.

You end up sighing again, this time in defeat. 

“Okay, big boy. Fine. Once more before bed. But you better go easy—I wanna be able to walk tomorrow—”

He kisses your pout and moves downwards, smearing sloppy pecks down your chest, chanting, “Thank you, thank you—”  and pulling your shorts with him as he goes.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, stupid soft Bakugou ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji, Geto, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Bokuto, Miya twins, Kageyama, Kuro ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ AOT – Eren, Armin ♡ DS – Zenitsu, Tanjiro

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[cold-kitty]

Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.

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

Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that

Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.

Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.

Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.

Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.

Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!

Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.

Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.

Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.

Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!

Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...

Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.

Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...

Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.

Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.

Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.

Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.

Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!

Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.

Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...

Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.

Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.

Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.

Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.

(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)

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

Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?

~🐈‍⬛

[hughesxmaes]

Watching the other cry in his arms, weeping for a man who was supposed to be dead, yet was alive and holding the Flame Alchemist, his best friend, the one he fell deeply for, it hurt to watch. All Maes could do was continue to console him, continue to rub his back as he held him close.

He knows that this was something hard to believe, that he was here and alive and not dead. His life was spared at a cost, Roy’s cost. He was being used to make sure Roy didn’t do anything about it.

They didn’t know that Roy would still be trying to stop them. They thought this would be enough considering what lengths Roy had went through to avenge his best friend.

Maes kept his arms around him letting him cry it out for however long he needed. Ten minutes.. or was it twenty? He wasn’t counting, but he was still in the same spot, rubbing his back, assuring him in soft murmurs that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Finally when the other had calmed enough to finally speak to him, Maes listened and hung to every word learning that his feelings were definitely returned, but kept in the dark from it.

He could understand why Roy held back, even back then Maes didn’t realize his own feelings either and it would have only caused issues, but knowing how he feels now that they are both older and after everything that’s happened.

He could understand that Roy was scared to lose him, having thought he had died the first time around, but only got lucky that the homunculi missed and hit his side instead of his heart this time.

Hearing that Gracia and Elicia were both crying at the funeral that wasn’t supposed to happen broke his heart and he knew that they would always be sad and miss him, and of course he’d miss them too, he knew it was just too dangerous to come forward to them about still being here. Not to mention it would only just confuse them and upset them that this was hidden.

He leans his head against Roy’s and just holds him. He knows that Roy is still dealing with the grief of him dying so all he can do is be there for him and assure him. He sees the anger that he felt from when he lost him he sees all the grief that the man has to deal with in his dark eyes that stare back into his hazel ones.

“I know you’re afraid, Roy. I get it, but I’ll do whatever I can to stay alive. I know you’ll protect me, I’m right here. I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere.” He is going to do everything he can to stay alive for Roy’s sake. He has a chance to, so he won’t even try to fight against them unless he has to.

“There’s a lot that we don’t know, but I’m sure we will find out soon enough.” He squeezes him softly. “I want to stay by your side, always. I want to be with you and nobody else. I’ll make a promise to you to stay alive. I refuse to die after everything.” He couldn’t dare die after seeing what this man has said and done in front of him just now. “I love you so much, Roy.” He watches as the other hides his face once more. “I’m yours.”

He couldn’t get air into his lungs. He fell into the sea, and, as if he was always meant to drown, he couldn’t hope to get out. 

Why, though? He thought he was safe this time. He was careful. The sun did not melt his wings like he previously thought. Nay, the wax remained intact.

Simple: he looked down, and he didn’t look back up. He wasn’t sure he could.

The fabric of Maes’ shirt was almost enough to silence Roy’s cries. Even though he wanted to, he did not completely smother his face into Maes’ shoulder. Idly, he wondered if perhaps that would stop him from nearly hyperventilating in front of the man he loved. If he could just breathe, and manage to get a few, rational words out, then everything would make sense. This? Bawling like an infant who only wanted to be held in a warm embrace? Ridiculous. Obscene. Deplorable. 

This was not the man Maes said he loved. Fire incarnate, he was supposed to be a welcoming hearth for his man to sit next to on a cold day, a torch to light his way, or a wildfire that took down forests if left untamed. What Maes held in his arms were mere embers, soaked from the sea as he could not stop himself from weeping. Pathetic. 

Five minutes passed, and he hardly slowed his pace. The tears couldn’t stop. He couldn’t move from his spot. His hands continued gripping Maes with all the strength he could muster while his body quaked. 

Another five minutes passed. His breathing began to calm as his body stilled. Calloused hands relaxed their grip, but did not let go. 

Several minutes, or close to an eternity, later, a quiet voice broke the silence.

“I loved you since we were at the academy,” Roy murmured as he spoke more to the floor, his head bowed, “I knew it then. When you said you joined the military to protect the woman you loved, I wanted to tell you that you already did. She was me.” Roy offered the floor a weak smile for a brief few seconds before his frown returned. “But, I couldn’t risk it. Not with our country as it is, and not with the anti-frat laws. I wasn’t about to damage your career like that. So, you got married and had a daughter while I kept up my reputation, and I worked on attaining the Presidency.”

The hands gripping Maes trembled. With a sharp inhale of air, his breathing stuttered. He just stopped crying. Starting again would be absurd. Everything was fine. Maes was alive and right in front of him. Couldn't he see that? Why did he keep quaking like this?

“But… then you died, Maes. When I was in East City.” Why did his voice break? He made this report before. He had to before he transferred. Moreover, Maes knew what happened. It happened to him. “I don't remember what happened after the phone call. The Lieutenant took me home, and I woke up there the next morning. I don't remember if I even changed that morning before I left for Central.” Roy forced himself to pause and breathe, his hands moving to his sides. 

“I went to your funeral. I listened to Gracia and Elicia cry–she asked why they were burying you, and none of us could console her. I saw the phone booth. I listened as Major Armstrong said he couldn't tell me who killed you.” As he spoke, his hands clenched into fists. “And, after all of that, I promised I would find your killer and bring them to Hell myself. What I did to Lust is nothing compared to the funeral pyre I plan to make for the one who took you from me.”

At last, obsidian dared to look into hazel. Alive and on fire, the blaze in Roy moved with his quick breaths. The water on his face, an element said to make the Flame useless, glistened in the soft lighting of his living room. With one deep inhale, and then another, the fire began to calm. Several deep breaths later, a solemn voice, barely above a whisper, left the embers standing in front of Maes.

“I told a ghost I loved him. Without him, I was lost. How would I go anywhere without mi Estrella Polar? I said all this to an empty grave, not once thinking it was empty. That you were alive, Maes.” He tried to smile, but such an attempt was in vain. His lips quivered with the rest of him—as if he hadn’t fully dried from being underwater. 

“I never stopped loving you. Not once, even when I told myself I should. And now… you're saying everything I dreamed of hearing. You want to be mine when I’ve wanted nothing more since we were cadets. But…” Again, his clenched hands trembled as his gaze moved to the floor. “How do I know you won’t be taken from me again? I couldn’t protect you before. If I go through with these plans–to overthrow the Homunculi and Senior Staff—what will stop them from taking you? I can’t–I can’t lose you again.”He bowed his head as tears cascaded down his cheeks, the sea claiming him once more. Perhaps water truly did make him useless.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,723 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad, from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. You want answers. 

“I want to know why you decided to leave, why you went on that mission and left me when you knew things were not right.” 

John shifts on his feet behind you, the wood floor creaking just slightly. He’s silent for a long moment, so long you almost think he’s walked away. 

“I was too trusting. I got caught up in the mindset of a soldier and chose to trust my superiors when I knew I shouldn’t have. I wanted to send you somewhere else, to stay with Kate, but things didn’t work fast enough to make that possible. I shouldn’t have just left you there, even with Johnny and Simon. It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. At least he knows he made a mistake. At least he thought up other plans, but that doesn’t excuse the fact he did nothing and just left you there so easily. 

Another question burns at the forefront of your mind. You think back to that conversation with Dr. Keller just a few days ago. You want to trust her, you know you can trust her. She’s given you no reason not to. She wouldn’t lie, even if the rest of your pack did. 

“You really didn’t leave me with Graves?” The words slip out before you can stop them, spilling forth from your lips, revealing part of those inner thoughts that have plagued you for the last few hours. 

“I would never have left you with him.” John says, the floorboards creaking as he takes a couple steps forward. “As soon as we found out we turned around and went to Kate’s safehouse. She was already looking for you. We did everything in our power to find you as quickly as we possibly could.” 

The tears start sliding down your cheeks as you sit there, taking in his words. They’re spoken with such conviction and match what Dr. Keller had told you. Some deep, dark part of your brain wants to think it’s all a lie that they’ve conjured to try and make you feel better about everything, to try and jumpstart the healing process. Yet, at the same time you want to believe they are telling the truth. 

Your other option is to trust Phil and what he said to you. For all you know, everything he said was a lie. Some sick justification to torture you as some kind of revenge towards your pack. Maybe it was all about revenge. 

Who can you trust more? Phil, or your alpha. 

Maybe if you had just held on a little bit longer. Maybe if you hadn’t believed Phil’s lie, you could have saved yourself the terror of letting your omega take over. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to take that risk and corrupt yourself with blood-stained hands. From what you can remember and have managed to weasel out of Dr. Keller, they were right behind you. A few more minutes and maybe none of it would have had to happen. 

Maybe you did do the right thing in the end. Phil might have ordered his men to kill you as soon as they arrived. Maybe they would have done it as soon as Simon and Johnny entered the room. Saving yourself might have been your only option. 

Those men would have killed you or worse. You did what you had to do. 

You’re shaking. The tears are cascading down your cheeks, warmed by the heat of the fire. You’re crying, your breaths nearly hyperventilating as you sob quietly. 

“Talk to me.” John says as he kneels down beside you. 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“She scares me, my omega.” Your inhale stutters. “She’s angry. She won’t settle. I’m scared I’m going to lose control and she’ll come out again.” 

“You’re not going to lose control.” John says. Despite the heat of the fire you’re not much warmer, a cold chill shooting through your veins. “If it were to happen, we’re right here. We’ll get you through it.” 

You stare into the flickering flames, your breaths slowly coming back down to normal. John sits there, as still as a tree. You don’t want him so close to you, yet you can’t deny how comforting his presence is. For the first time in a while you don’t feel quite so out of control.

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. You’re not quite sure how that makes you feel. 

You don’t remember falling asleep after your little talk last night. You’re not sure how that moment of vulnerability makes you feel either. There was a time when you wouldn’t have thought twice about going to your alpha with such concerns and tumultuous feelings. There was a time when you would have sought him out for the comfort and stability you need right now. 

Things are different, though. Things have changed. 

You run a hand over your face, thinking back to the groggy conversation with Simon this morning. You’re not quite sure it even happened, or if you dreamed it. There’s two blankets on you, however, and you distinctly remember feeling the second one being draped over you. 

It’s a touching gesture from the specter in your life. Once again he’s been reduced to a shadow, a figure lingering only because he has to. The distance that had once been so close to closing has widened into an impossibly wide canyon. You’re not sure it’ll ever fully close again. Too much has transpired in such a short amount of time between the two of you. He’ll never forgive himself, and you’ll never be brave enough to force it again. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face again. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of trauma and their decisions ache in your chest, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You’re half tempted to go back to sleep, but you’re too awake now, and the light streaming in the doorway is making it hard. It was done on purpose, left that way to prevent you from falling asleep again. 

You let out a huff as you maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed. You try to blink the drowsiness away, no matter how much your brain is trying to chase the last lingering threads of sleep quickly receding. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers, repeating what he told you in the room. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, the lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for late fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny and Kyle down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

NEXT ->

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[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sorry For My Actions, All That I Projected (NSFW)

Synopsis: An argument ensues between you and your husband making you pull away from him when you were only trying to lift his spirits. You give him space just as he requested, but he was soon asking for forgiveness and thinking of the best possible way to make it up to you

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The door slammed once again to your shared house with your husband, indicating his frustrations as you were sitting in the living room watching the highlights from the most recent game that he played in. This had been the running theme for what was now three weeks in a row. The lights had been turned down low as you anxiously awaited his return and you already knew that he wasn’t going to be in the best mood. You hadn't been feeling very well and told him earlier that day that you would probably watch the game from home. He nodded his head when you told him as he kissed you goodbye and went on his way.

“Babe…” You started to say once you finally spotted him in the foyer as you sat up and looked in that direction, but he immediately cut you off.

“Not now.” Joe quickly said as he threw his bag to the side of him and let out a sigh.

“I just…”

“Y/N, I can’t right now, okay? I need a minute.”

“Um, okay.” You quietly answered as you went back to looking at the television and quickly decided to change the channel so Joe didn’t have to hear people possibly questioning his abilities. As far as you were concerned, he was the best quarterback ever in the history of the NFL and didn't care what anyone else said about it.

Joe then picked his bag up off the floor before heading upstairs as you continued to sit there and think of ways that you could possibly lift his spirits. He didn't get like this often, but not having a win for three straight weeks after working your ass off in order to get to this point, there was reason for him to be upset. He had confided in you before the season started and this was one of his biggest fears.

But the game that was just played honestly wasn't his fault. He played amazing and you could tell he was frustrated by the actions of some of his teammates. The blame could be put on the defense, but it was well known that it didn't matter. Because of him being the quarterback, the blame would be put on him.

It was now reaching twelve at night and you started making your way upstairs so that you could check on Joe. You found him in your shared bedroom watching the anchors on ESPN practically picking him apart at every chance they got while very few were defending him. You simply tried to take the remote away from him, but he held onto it tighter.

“Baby, this isn’t helping. You don't need to be watching this.”

“I'm fine.”

“No you aren't. You are nowhere near fine, and that's okay. You're frustrated and pissed off and for good reason. I get that.”

“I said I was fine, now can we drop it?”

“I'm just trying to help. I see my husband is upset and I'm trying to make it better.” You told him as you attempted to brush your hand through his hair, but he moved away from you.

The gesture definitely hurt your feelings but you did your best not to let it show.

“I'm going to sleep.” He simply told you as he turned the television off and got under the comforter.

You sighed before making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your nighttime skin care routine. Most nights Joe would do it with you, but you figured that he would rather not participate tonight and that you were better off not asking him.

While washing the face mask off, a few tears couldn't help but to slip out. The start of the season had been extremely hard on him and it seemed as if nothing good so far had come out of it. You tried not to let it get to you that he was being distant, but all in all it did. You knew he had to focus and having less distractions was important and by now you honestly should be used to it.

Once you were finished and changed into your pajamas, you climbed in bed next to him and could tell that he was still awake from his breathing since it hadn't slowed and debated on whether you should say anything to him.

“Babe?” You softly said and Joe turned around to face you.

“Hmm?”

“Still proud of you.”

It was now Monday night and excitement was evident as you were making dinner and planned to tell Joe after the two of you had eaten about the little one that was now growing in your belly. You hadn't been feeling well for the past two weeks and finally got a doctor's appointment earlier that day leaving Joe at home to sulk and also go to practice which he just recently got back from. After your appointment, you had stopped at the store and got a Bengals onesie along with a tiny football since you also found out that the baby was a boy. The two of you had been trying for a while and it seemed as if when you were about to give up that it finally happened.

Joe had taken up residence at the table once you told him that dinner was ready. You could tell that he was still in a mood, but it didn’t seem as bad as it was the day before and was hoping that hearing the news would turn his bad mood around. You were trying your best to give him space, but also be supportive at the same time. You understood that he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders at the moment.

“Babe, I made your favorite. I was hoping that this would help you feel better.” You told him as you kissed his cheek and he sighed before answering you as you set the plate in front of him before walking back over to the stove to make a plate for yourself.

“Y/N, you seriously don't know how to take a hint do you?”

“What? Joseph, what are you even talking about?”

“You have been all up under me for the past twenty four hours when I want to be left the fuck alone. What is it that you aren't getting?”

Hearing this, you turned around to look at him and noticed that he pushed his plate of food in the middle of the table, indicating that he in fact did not want it.

“Are you serious right now?” You asked, looking at your husband in disbelief.

As many games as he had lost in the past and the injuries he had gone through along with the surgeries, he had never blown up at you and you were not understanding what his issue was. Yes, he was frustrated but the last thing he needed to do was take it out on his wife.

“You act like you need to be under me every waking moment of every day and follow me around like some little lost ass puppy when I lose a game. I already have a mother and don't need another one. Last time I checked, you were my wife.”

“I'm only trying to help and want for you to feel better. I understand that you’re frustrated, but this is not the way we go about things and you know that.” You told him as you were trying to do your best to even your breathing. Because it was only a matter of time before you started to yell at him. You didn't want to do that, but he honestly deserved it because of how he was speaking to you.

“Well I guess this is news to you that you're not helping. None of this is fucking helping. What would help is my wife giving me space when I ask for it.”

That was the last straw and you knew that it was necessary for you to walk away when you looked down at your watch to see that it alerted you about a high heart rate.

“Hmm, noted.” Was all you said before walking out of the kitchen and leaving Joe there with his thoughts.

Tears couldn't help but make their way down your cheeks as you walked down to where your mini library was and you angrily wiped them away. It was a gift from Joe last Valentine's day and that was your place of peace when you wanted to get away from everything. A lot of times when Joe couldn't find you, he knew that more than likely that is where you would be and would always cuddle with you while he also grabbed a book to read or he always loved when you read to him.

Curling up in the corner with your pillow, you placed your phone next to you and opened your book at the place where you left off earlier. If he wanted to be left alone, you didn't have any problem with it. But you knew for a fact that he would come crawling back sooner or later asking for forgiveness.

And you weren't sure if he deserved it.

Regret filled Joe instantly when he saw you walk away from him. He debated on if he should go after you, but he knew better. He would give you time and give you your space to cool off. He got up and began putting all the food away so that it could be eaten tomorrow because he simply didn't have an appetite.

He could admit that the last thing that he ever wanted to do was take something out on you, but he did. He knew that you were only trying to help and the blame couldn't be placed on anything except for him being an asshole who clearly didn't deserve you.

The thoughts were running through his mind as he was going through his ideas of what he could possibly do for you in order to receive your forgiveness for how he had acted, but he was coming up short.

He would simply sleep on it tonight and hoped that things would be better in the morning and that you two could talk and be able to get on the same page.

Waking up, Joe reached for you since you were never one to get up early unless absolutely necessary and instantly frowned when he noticed that you weren't next to him and probably weren't for the entire night when he saw that your side of the bed was completely untouched. He got up and immediately went on the hunt to look for you and found you in the kitchen sipping what looked like tea and reading your book.

Joe cautiously approached you before saying anything, anticipating that you were immediately going to shut him down.

“Babe, can we talk?” He quietly asked and you glanced up at him before putting your attention back onto your book.

“For what?” You replied and Joe muttered a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“I need to apologize for how I've been acting towards you. You didn't deserve that when you were only trying to be supportive and help me.” He told you as he came and sat across from you. He wanted to grab your hand, but decided against it since you were holding your book and more than likely you would pull back from him.

“I don't want to talk to you right now.”

“Okay… I get it. But um, later?” Joe wasn't surprised at all by your answer and knew that he deserved it.

“No, I'm busy.”

“With?”

You simply placed your bookmark to keep your place in your book before looking up at your husband and folding your hands as you leaned on the kitchen table.

“When that becomes your concern, I'll let you know. And I have things that I have to do. So, therefore this conversation is now over.”

“Baby….”

“No. Immediately no. You do not get to do that. You were an asshole to me and quite frankly, I don't have to put up with it. So like I said, I don't want to talk to you. Matter of fact, I don't even want to be in the same house as you so I'm leaving.” You replied as you got up from the table, put your cup in the sink and walked out of the kitchen leaving Joe sitting at the table just like you did last night.

It was now Friday afternoon and once again Joe was blowing up your phone and had been for the past three days. You had decided to stay with your best friend Jazmine for the time being to let Joe think about what he did. Besides, he did tell you that he wanted his space, so he got what he asked for. You were sitting on her bed while the two of you were watching The Nightmare Before Christmas which happened to be one of your favorite Halloween movies that Joe would watch with you every year. You could feel her eyes on you as she saw you looking down at your phone.

Husband- Baby, can we please talk? I told you that I was sorry. I understand why you're mad but it's been three days since you've been home.

You- You pissed me off so much so don't be surprised if you don't see me until the playoffs and even then you’d be lucky if that even happens. You asked for space, so that's what I'm giving you. Get off my phone Joseph.

Husband- What can I do to make this up to you? I miss you.

You- Oh, now you miss me? Give me my space. Oh my, doesn't that sound familiar? Goodnight.

Husband- Babe, it's only 1 in the afternoon

You- And? I said goodnight Joseph Lee Burrow.

Jazmine glanced over at you before looking back towards the movie on the screen and sighed.

“He still doesn't know? Does he?” She asked inquiring if he knew about the pregnancy.

“No, simply because I was going to tell him that same night that he decided to have a temper tantrum.”

“Well maybe….” She started to say and you eyed her.

“Maybe what?”

“You need to tell him and the two of you need to make up and make up soon. I am not taking up for him in any way, shape, or form, but he has apologized multiple times and quite frankly, I am tired of him also blowing up my phone to check on you.”

“I'll text him the sonogram picture.” You told her as you shrugged and went to your phone gallery.

“NO Y/N! That is not what I meant.”

“And throw the mini football I got at his throat. It won't hurt, it's soft.”

“Okay, I sense that you're still angry, but you need to calm down and stop being petty.”

“You're taking his side.”

“No I'm not! I'm just saying that man loves you and will do absolutely anything for you. He messed up big time, but wants to make it up to you. It is literally only a matter of time before he shows up on my doorstep.”

“You have a ring camera so you can see him. You don't have to open the door.”

“We are finishing this movie and then you are going home to talk to your husband.”

“You're kicking me out? WOOOOOWWWW.” You exclaimed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You have a literal mansion to go to! Yes, I'm kicking you out.”

“Will you at least feed me first?”

“You're getting McDonald's and that's it.”

“I'll make sure it takes me three hours to eat it.”

Jazmine simply rolled her eyes in response.

It was now around four in the afternoon when you were finally pulling into the driveway of your house. Sighing, you grabbed your bag from the passenger and made your way inside. You went through the garage and then through the kitchen in order to make your way upstairs in the hopes of Joe not seeing you. You still didn't feel ready to talk to him. As you made your way upstairs into your bedroom, you were surprised to see Joe sitting there scrolling on his phone and sighed. When he heard your footsteps, he immediately stood up and walked over to you.

“Only reason I'm here is because Jazmine kicked me out. I am still extremely pissed off at you.”

“I know because I told her to.”

You did a double take and looked at your husband in disbelief.

“I was desperate and wanted you here so we could talk. Besides, she told me you kept eating all of her snacks.”

Rolling your eyes, you dumped your clothes into the hamper and set your overnight bag in the bottom of the walk-In closet with Joe following behind you. You reached up behind a pair of your shoes on the second shelf and got the Bengals onesie along with the mini football and handed it to Joe who looked confused.

“Uh? Who is this for?”

“You. Even though I should throw the football at your head for how you talked to me.”

“I… wait… you're pregnant?”

“Yes and you would have found out on Monday if you weren't busy being an asshole. I was so excited to tell you, but that quickly went out the window.”

“Babe…. I… I'm sorry. I promise that it will never happen again. You were only trying to help me and I took that for granted. And I also ruined this.” He said as he held up the onesie to examine it.

“Hmm.”

“I bought you some peonies. They're downstairs in the kitchen.” He quietly told you as he played with the football you had handed him.

“I'll look at them later. The baby is a boy and I hope you teach him how and how not to speak to his significant other so he can learn from your mistakes.”

It was still awkward between the two of you after you had come back home from being with Jazmine for a few days. Now that he knew about the little life inside of you, It seemed like every waking moment he was asking you if you were okay and getting you anything that you might need and bringing it to you. You could admit that it was nice and he was trying to do his best in order to make it up to you.

Since you had somewhat finally got your nausea under control, you decided that you would go to the game this week and see him play but made sure to have meds and ginger ale on stand by. It was an away game as they were playing the Carolina Panthers and Jazmine quickly volunteered to go with you. She told you that she wanted to keep you company, but deep down you knew it was because of her huge crush that she had on Ja'Marr even though she would probably never admit it.

The two of you had just gotten situated in your suite because you knew for a fact that if Joe caught you in the stands with regular fans that he would have a fit. An incident occurred last season before his wrist injury which included so called ‘fans’ harassing you. He knew how much you liked being near the action, but from that point on, in order to not compromise your safety, you always needed to be in a suite for his peace of mind.

“Oh! There's your man!” Jazmine said as she nudged you, but rolled your eyes.

“You only noticed because of who he's standing next to.”

“I… don’t ever know what you mean bestie.” She replied as she was heavily eyeing Ja'Marr.

“Sure, sure. I need to get you two to go on a date so that we can all be put out of this misery.”

“He's cute!”

“And single, so shoot your shot.” You told her as you felt a wave of nausea come over you and quickly grabbed your ginger ale taking a sip.

“Tell his bestie a.k.a. your husband to put in a good word for me.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“I literally can't wait for the double dates.”

It was nearing the end of the game and it looked like for the first time this season that the Bengals would actually have a win which you knew Joe would finally be excited about.

“You know what you should do?” Jazmine asked as she turned to look at you.

“What?”

“He already doesn't know you're here so surprise him in his hotel room. You know where he's staying so….”

“And he always leaves a key for me at the front desk just in case I decide to come to an away game.”

“See? Perfect. Yall need to have make up sex because both of you are still acting awkward around each other when you've seen each other naked and his private parts have been in your mouth and yours in his which is still so weird to me.”

“Jazmine….”

“Like I remember the first time you told me you deep throated him.”

“Jazmine….”

“Had him seeing stars and shit.”

“Jazmine….”

“Just saying. You need to get dicked down. And his first win of the season? Oh girl the paint on the walls needs to be peeling by the time yall get finished.”

“JAZMINE!” You called her name for the fourth time before you busted out laughing.

“What!? What'd I say!? You know it's true. He might end up putting another one in you.”

“Don't you wish that on me!”

“That man is about to turn you every way but loose. You always said you wanted a lot so don't switch it up now. I'm actually surprised yall don't have ten kids already.” She said as she held her hands up in defense.

You rolled your eyes before laughing at her and unlocked your phone to go to your text messages. You read where Joe had sent you which hotel that they were staying at and saw that it wasn't very far from the actual stadium. If you didn't want to hit the stadium traffic, you decided that you should leave now to give yourself enough time.

“What's that look for?” Jazmine asked as she saw the wheels in your head turning.

“I'm about to head to the hotel. That way it'll be easier for me to maneuver because everyone else is still watching the game.”

“Well don't let me stop you. Go and spend time with your man. Just lay on the bed with nothing on. I'll text you when my flight is about to take off.”

Getting to the hotel and getting the key to his room wasn't a problem and you were waiting patiently for him to get there as you were laying down on the bed and scrolling through your phone.

You then noticed that you didn't have a lot of battery left and stood up to get your charger out of your bag when you heard the door open.

Joe walked in and was surprised to see his wife in front of him and instantly smiled.

“I didn't realize that I was going to have a special guest.” He said as he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I decided at the last minute to come and Jazmine volunteered to come with me.” You told him as you stepped back to stare up at him.

“Congratulations by the way. I'm very proud of you. Even though I was proud of you before.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him.

“Thank you. I think because you’re here is why we probably won.”

“I don't know about that. You give me too much credit.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as the two of you simply stared at each other before Joe was the first one to break the silence.

“I hate fighting with you and I'm sorry. The entire thing is my fault and you were just trying to help. Are you still mad at me?”

“How many times are you going to apologize? It happened, we moved on from it. And no. It takes too much energy for me to be mad at you.”

“But I still feel like shit. I can't believe that I talked to my own wife like that. I see why you wanted to throw the football at my head. You had a good reason.” Joe muttered and you stifled a laugh.

“You can make it up to me now, though ” You told him as you let go of him and reached behind you to undo the clasp on your bra.

“How and what are you doing?”

Instead of you answering him with words, you simply pulled your bra out from underneath your shirt and threw it onto the floor after you had taken it off without taking off your shirt.

Joe simply bit his lip before he reached down to kiss you as he backed you up until the back of your legs hit the bed. He gently laid you down and told you to move until you got to the top.

“Move up higher for me.”

Once you did and got settled, Joe was playing with the bottom of your shirt which happened to be his jersey before pulling it up over your head leaving your top half bare in front of him.

Soft kisses were placed all along your body starting from your collar bone and working all the way down until he got to your shorts quickly unbuttoning them. You lifted your hips so that he could pull them away from your body along with your panties and spread your legs wide as he placed kisses along each thigh.

“You're so beautiful, baby. You know that?”

“Hmm, I think that you've told me once or twice before. But I always love hearing you say it.”

“And I'll never get tired of saying it.”

As he held onto your thighs, you instantly felt his mouth on you and a quiet moan couldn't help but to escape your lips.

“Shh. Stay quiet for me, baby. The last thing I want is to hear Ja'Marr complaining that you were too loud because his room is next to mine. I won't hear the end of it.”

“You shouldn't make me feel so good then. And it's not like he hasn't heard us before.” You replied as Joe immediately scoffed.

“Like that's ever going to happen. Keep those legs spread for me or I'll do it for you. You’re already so wet and I've barely done anything.” Joe quietly said as he was running his fingers along your folds making you buck your hips forward.

“I think my wife is growing impatient and she better behave herself because if she doesn't I'll edge her all night. You know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you right back.”

“Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I don't.”

—

“Oh shiiit.” You blurted out as Joe was pounding into you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you so that your noses were touching.

He quickly took advantage of the opportunity and brought you into a kiss before placing your legs on top of his shoulders.

You had lost count of how many times you had hit your peak that night and was surprised that Joe still had so much energy. Seeing as it was now close to two in the morning. You guess you can blame it on the high from winning the game.

Without warning he slipped out of you making you whimper before he moved down to be face to face with your core once more and began to eat you out again which felt like the millionth time this evening.

“Mmm, baby. Right there, stay right there.” You gasped as he began moving his tongue in and out making you squirm.

Joe could tell you were close as he held you down in place and began to suck on your clit.

“Fuck! Babe, I can’t take it.”

“Yes you can. Give me one more.” Joe answered you as he went back to sucking on your clit.

Your back arched off of the bed as no sounds were coming out of your mouth and knew that it was only a matter of time before you came all over his face, as you've done so many times already. Sure enough you felt it building up and tried to push Joe away from you, but he just held onto you tighter.

“I know your ass is not trying to run away from me. I thought you were my good girl. Good girls don't do that.”

Your response to Joe was you squirming all over his face.

“And there it is. I knew you had one more in you.” Joe told you as he placed small kisses all along your thighs. You didn't even bother responding as you were trying to regulate your breathing and Joe crawled back up your body to kiss you before laying his head on your chest.

“Do you forgive me now?” He asked as he nipped at your breasts before taking one in his mouth and lightly sucking.

“Yes, but I had already forgiven you. This was just a plus. But promise me that nothing like that will ever happen again no matter what the circumstances are. We communicate better than that.”

“Promise.”

The two of you laid in silence for a few minutes with your arms wrapped around each other when Joe's phone went off. He reached over to grab it while still holding onto you and unlocked his screen to see that it was a text from Ja'Marr.

Ja'Marr- are yall done yet? Because I have YET to go to sleep. I knew she was mad at you, but got damn.

“See? Baby, I told you that you were too loud.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Love Me Again

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

Exes to lovers - this was requested so I hope you like it!!

To be completely honest, Lando doesn't even know what happened that night one year ago. He knows very well that he drank too much, got drunk like never before and that the next day he lost you.

You came to his apartment and found a hair band in the bathroom that wasn't yours. Lando knew whose hair tie it was, but he tried to hide it from you and convince you that it was yours. Of course with that, he only made things worse. The fact that he decided to lie about it hurt you even more.

You threatened to leave him immediately if he didn't tell you what happened the night before and who spent the night in his apartment. It didn't take long for Lando to break down and tearfully tell you that one of his girl friends spent the night at his place after going out. The morning after, he barely remembered anything, but he could have sworn that he hadn't even kissed her, let alone slept with her.

His only fault was that he brought her with him to the apartment and let her sleep there, but even that was more than enough for you to break your heart into a thousand pieces.

You knew which female friend it was. You never even liked her and even though Lando always told you that you had no reason to be jealous, it annoyed you that she was throwing herself at him every chance she got when the two of you were together.

She was too close to him for your liking and then when you heard that she was the one who slept over at his place that night when he was dead drunk, it was over for you.

Lando cried, despaired, begged you to forgive him for months, trying to convince you that for him there was only you, but you couldn't get over your pride and forgive him. In the end, you even believed him that maybe there really wasn't anything between the two of them, but the trust was broken between the two of you and it couldn't be fixed anymore.

Since you two were together for two and a half years before you broke up, you were very close to his family. They adored you and considered you a member of the family. They couldn't believe that you broke up, even they begged you to forgive him, but even though you decided not to, you still remained on good terms with them and continued to hang out from time to time.

And just like that you found yourself on a huge luxury yacht celebrating Mila's third (idk how old is she??) birthday together with Lando and his family. It was a three-day celebration in the small circle of family and for the sake of that you decided to remain calm and behave normally around Lando.

It wasn't easy for you to be so close to him yet so far away. It was even worse for him, but he enjoyed having you around. Of course he tried in every way to reach you, approach you, talk to you, he did everything just to get your attention. From time to time he would succeed, you would find it funny how he tried everything, so you would give in and engage into a conversation with him.

On the last night, everyone went to bed pretty early because they were exhausted from celebrating, swimming and sunbathing for the past three days, but you weren't so exhausted, so you decided to stay in the lounge area of ​​the yacht and be with yourself for a while. The sky was beautiful, full of shining stars and the feeling was so peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment, but not for long because you were soon startled by none other than Lando's voice.

"You decided to sleep under the sky tonight?" He asked making himself comfortable on the sofa next to you.

"No, I was just enjoying looking at it."

"With your eyes closed?" He mocked.

"What else do you want other than to disturb my peace?" You roll your eyes sitting up from the lying position.

"I was very hot, so I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come here to the pool to cool off" He says looking at the pool in front of you.

"It's like" You take a look at your phone to check the time. "Almost 1 a.m. and you're going to get in the pool now?"

"Yeah, wanna join me?" He smirks.

"No, thank you." You laugh rolling your eyes at him again.

He gets up from the sofa and begins to remove his shorts, leaving only his boxers on. You were a little embarrassed and you didn't expect him to start undressing in front of you, so you cleared your throat and looked away.

"C'mon, it's nothing you haven't seen before, y/n" He mocks seeing how flushed your cheeks got.

"I'm going to my room, you have fun" You say getting up and fixing your oversized t-shirt that served as your night gown.

"No, come on, stay, keep me company." He pleaded before stepping into the pool. "Please?"

It didn't take long for him to persuade you to stay, because you secretly wanted to, you just didn't want to admit it so you sat down on the edge of the pool dipping your feet into the water as you watched him slowly threw himself in. Diving under the water he swam closer to you.

"You enjoying yourself?" You ask paddling your feet.

"It would be even better if you jumped in with me" He says placing his hands on the edge on either side of you.

"Not a chance" You resist pushing him a little with your feet. He chuckles biting his lip and taking your foot in his hand pulling you to himself a little.

"Lando, don't you dare" You warn him when you feel yourself slide down a little.

"You're not wearing any shorts?" He asks tilting his head to the side to peek under your t-shirt. You gasp quickly closing your legs and pulling your shirt down.

"You're so inappropriate, get away from me" You push his chest with your feet pushing him away from yourself only for to swim back to you again.

"Did you have any fun these past three days?" He asked curiously.

"I did, I have always enjoyed spending time with your family. It was good to see everyone again."

"Even me?"

You stop and sigh softly at his question not wanting to look him in the eye. it still hurts, stings. You'd be lying if you said you weren't glad to see him. You still love him after all, but you're still not sure if you want to forgive him.

"I'd rather not answer that"

He can't hide the hurt look in his eyes after your statement, but he also doesn't want to push you away from him by bringing certain topics up again.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I had a talk with Mila today and she told me that I am all you talk about. She says it's getting too much even for her to listen to you" Lando being Lando, of course, turns everything into a joke just to lighten the mood. You can't help but burst out laughing at the nonsense that he was saying just to say something.

"There we go, that's the laugh I wanted to hear" You blush at his caring words hiding your face in your shoulder. He takes a risk and places his hands over your knees slowly pulling them apart to stand between them and you surprise both of you when you let him.

"Lando.." You sigh hesitantly when he slowly puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Please, let me" Before you could even ask him let you what?, he pulled you down into the pool with him. You gasped and your skin crawled as the slightly cold water soaked your t-shirt making it clung to your body.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You were breathing rapidly trying to grab the edge to get out, but Lando pulled you by your waist closer to his body.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay"

"You're completely crazy" Your mouth complains, but your body responds differently to his touch especially when he moves one of his hands from your hip to your leg making them wrap around his torso.

"That's better" He says quietly glancing at your lips. You have to admit you feel a little uncomfortable, especially with his lips less than two centimeters away from yours. You haven't been this physically close to each other in over a year and you've almost forgotten what it feels like to feel his skin on yours. "It's just me" He whispers and it somehow calms you down when you remember that it's Lando, your Lando.

"Lando, you can't do this.." You say, but wrap your arms around his neck hiding your gaze in the crook of his neck. Your gesture encourages him so he hugs you tighter and gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Baby, I miss you so much" Your heart trembles at his choice of words. "I'm losing my mind without you" His voice breaks when you look at him and he moves your hair out of your face. Your fingers make gentle circular motions over the back of his head as you press your foreheads together.

"I swear only hope that one day you'll love me again keeps me sane" He continues.

"I've never even stopped" You quietly confess.

Even if he tried, he couldn't describe the feeling of hearing that from your mouth. He felt as if he had come alive again after such a long time.

He couldn't hold back anymore, everything in him was dying to feel you, to kiss you so he crashed his lips against yours and kissed you the way you kiss a person you love more than your life, but haven't been able to touch in more than a year.

You didn't even think about resisting anymore, you gave in and kissed him back with the same force. He walked with your legs still wrapped around him to the edge of the pool pressing against you with your back against it. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt exploring your body again after so long enjoying the sound of your moans.

"Please..please tell me that no one..has touched you..no one but me" His voice was quivering as he tried to get the question out to which he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to.

Lando was your first. First in everything basically. And he was so proud of it. He loved your innocence and the fact that no one had ever made you feel the way he did. You were all his and that's why he had a particularly strong protective feeling towards you. And he probably would lose his mind if he heard that someone else had touched something that only belonged to him.

"No one but you" You panted making him go feral.

His hands went under your butt gripping it before his fingertips moved your panties aside. He grinded his crotch into yours nibbling at the skin of your neck.

"Lan.." You moaned wanting more, but hating to ask for it. Luckily he knows your body like the back of his hand and knows what you need very well so he slipped his middle finger inside of you. One was soon replaced by two making you throw your head back giving him full access to bite and suck on your neck.

"Fuck.." He hissed as the aching feeling in his cock kicked in desperately needing to be touched. "Baby, I need to feel you or else I'm going to explode" He grunts.

"Let's get out of the pool, yeah? We can't fuck in here"

He lifted you up from the water sitting you onto the edge before getting out of the pool himself. You took off your wet shirt leaving yourself only in soaked panties and a bra. He looked you in from head to toe before pulling you to him and laying you down on the sofa hovering over you.

As he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung off you looked down at him with a slight concern in your gaze and he noticed it.

"What, baby? Is everything okay?" He asked leaning down to kiss you caressing your cheek.

"Yeah, it's just..it's been a while.." His gaze softened and he smiled pressing a kiss to your forehead to calm you down.

"We'll take it slow, okay?" He assured you. He pulled down your bra taking your tits out and attaching his lips around your nipples and with every passing second of him doing so you were getting wetter and wetter. He then took his cock in his hand rubbing his tip over your pussy up and down a few times hissing at the sensation.

He stopped at the center and felt you getting nervous as your breathing quickened. "It's alright, baby, I know you want this, I can feel how wet you are. I'll go slow, I promise."

He slowly pushed the tip in planting kisses along your jawline to distract you from the pain. He pushed a little further and you squeezed your eyes whimpering and holding your hands against his chest.

"It hurts Lan, it's too big.." You cried out trying to close your legs so he put his hand on your cheek gently caressing it. It took everything in him not to cum right away at you complimenting his length.

"Shh, I know, baby, but you have to let me in okay? We'll make it fit, yeah? Like we always used to" He cooed you pushing your legs further apart. "Just a little bit more and it's fully in. You can take it, love, I know you can."

Little by little and he pushed all of himself in staying still until you felt comfortable enough for him to move. "That's it, just like that, baby, always such a good girl for me" He was so impatient to fuck you, to cum all over or inside you it didn't matter to him, but he decided to take his time with you because he wanted you to feel good above everything else.

Once the pain was replaced by the feeling of pleasure, he started thrusting in deep and fast stretching you out in the way only he knew how. When you felt confident enough you wrapped your legs around his torso to push him even deeper.

"Does it feel good?" He asked and you nodded. "This reminds me so much of that time I fucked you on the couch in my parent's house."

"Ohh, Lando” You moaned.

"Where anybody could've walked in on us and see me pounding you from behind. Fuck, you have no idea how much this turns me on.." He groaned.

"I missed all of you, missed fucking you, feeling you squeeze my cock, playing with your pussy, oh" His words were coming out as broken sobs struggling to last as long as possible. "I feel you clenching are you almost there, love?"

"So close"

"Yeah? You're drenching my cock baby. You're so tight, fuck, I'm gonna cum in seconds."

"Ohh..yes yes, ahh"

"Oh shit baby.." Once he saw you slide you hand down to your clit and start playing with it, he lost it. His body shuddered, his cock twitched inside you and he came undone. He kept moving slowly until both of you rode out your orgasms.

When both of you came to your senses he started hugging you and kissing you as if you were going to run away every second. You leaned your head to the side and watched him smiling.

"So..does this mean you're mine again?" He asks tracing his fingertips over your collarbones.

"It does not, but" You emphasize. "If you try a bit harder maybe you can change my mind"

"Understood. Let's get you cleaned up for round two then"

"Lando, that's not what I meant…”