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soaps-mohawk · 5 months ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

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“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left.

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident.

You keep waiting for that phone call.

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home.

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear.

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse.

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha.

You hate it.

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence.

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere.

Still...it smells fishy to you.

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent.

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast.

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like.

It makes you physically ill.

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments.

Some of those moments with Simon.

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side.

Your heat.

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot.

It makes you sick.

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again.

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid.

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough.

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out.

You can’t trust Simon to help you.

You’re not even sure he knows how to.

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death?

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list.

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy.

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him.

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently.

You can’t.

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control.

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges.

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other.

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax.

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks.

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think.

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says.

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has.

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment.

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again.

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.”

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike.

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine.

You’re afraid for a different reason now.

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle.

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega.

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again.

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?”

You nod. “Yeah. I am.”

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says.

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.”

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.”

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.”

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently.

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks.

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.”

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.”

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.”

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety.

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you.

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust.

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash.

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen.

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head.

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower.

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you.

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back.

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.”

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on.

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress.

Four weeks.

A month.

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better.

There’s been no contact.

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming.

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him.

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away.

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze.

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything.

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone.

You want your alpha.

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him.

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world.

You miss them so much it hurts.

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering.

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking.

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.”

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers.

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.”

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.”

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity.

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side.

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware.

You’re hungry.

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist.

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep.

“I’m hungry.” You whisper.

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.”

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out.

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp.

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge.

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning.

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.”

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.”

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone.

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag.

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.”

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no.

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says.

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.”

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time.

You’re going to have to do this alone.

Well...perhaps not.

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all.

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity.

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again.

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know.

What if he says yes?

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet.

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?”

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands.

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?”

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room.

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state.

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger.

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future.

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake.

“No.”

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful.

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over.

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else.

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face.

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself.

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin.

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger.

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones.

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.”

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this.

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under.

You want to remember his voice when you come back out.

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort.

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms.

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience.

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead.

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released.

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what.

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?”

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark.

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes.

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around.

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV.

“Not my favorite.” He admits.

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.”

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it.

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation.

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong.

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days.

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse.

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat.

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center.

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head.

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone.

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing.

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV.

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.”

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head.

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more.

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.”

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before.

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long.

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe.

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now.

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware.

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap.

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.”

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way.

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him.

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever.

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge.

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him.

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone.

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.”

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now.

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality.

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach.

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.”

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket.

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries.

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand.

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.”

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze.

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips.

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his.

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes.

She is smart. He’ll give her that.

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his.

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it.

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything.

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.”

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made.

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up.

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway.

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.”

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory.

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise.

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says.

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state.

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door.

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book.

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.”

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him.

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally.

He hates it.

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.”

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room.

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it.

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes.

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep.

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much.

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears.

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.”

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this.

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak.

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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twice-inamillion · 4 months ago

Text

The Company

New Assistant

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, creampie, whinging, rough sex, ass spanking, little aftercare, slave contract)

Chapter 17

3975 Words

(It’s time for a new assistant with Irene getting busy with her new girl group. Luckily she has a junior assistant in training that is due for a promotion. As her new boss it is required for you to welcome her and break her in.)

The office has been busy since returning from San Francisco. Multiple meetings with project managers, clients, partner companies, and personal meetings. You previously met with JYP and suggested a survival show with the trainees from his company. He mentioned it would give it a twist when it comes to the creation of a girl group.

At first, you were hesitant, but after much discussion about what it would look like, you decided to get on board. You even considered adding Mina as a contestant since you were confident in her skills.

The only thing remaining would be to inform the trainees about their participation in a survival show, so you and JYP decided to hold a meeting with all the trainees.

The meeting went as you suspected; the trainees were nervous about their participation. The younger trainees saw this as a way to prove themselves and increase their chances of debut, while the older ones voiced their disapproval.

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and especially Jihyo were angry at JYP for even suggesting the idea after their failed attempts at debut.

Jihyo cries from disappointment, with the other two comforting her, knowing how much they have worked for these past few years.

The meeting ends, leaving a sour taste in your mouth, not knowing how to react. You should have gone with your gut, but it's too late to change your mind, and only for the best outcome.

When you get back to your office, you discuss things with Jieun (IU) and understand the situation. Being closer to them, she has learned a few things and has learned how disappointed 3Mix would be with their recent failed attempt. They assumed that switching companies would have an easier path to debut, especially Jihyo, who has been in training for the longest time among the trainees in the company.

“I can’t back out.”

”I understand, sir, but try to be a bit understanding.”

”I’ll try.

The room is silent; you can feel the tension in the air and ask, “What’s next on the agenda?”

”You have a meeting with Irene to discuss about Miyeon.”

“When is that?

”Later today, it's your last meeting.”

”Thank you.”

———

You hear a knock, “Sir, it’s Irene.”

”Come in.”

”Thank you.” She stands in front of you with folders in her hands, waiting for you to look up at her.

“Take a seat.”

”Yes.”

”Let’s get to the point. How is she doing?”

”At the beginning, she had a bit of an adjustment to her new schedule. She asked a lot of questions but began to pick things up at a reasonable pace. I also made sure she continued her education and decided to pursue higher education.”

”That’s great. Seems like these few months have been good for her.”

”Yes, I tried not to give her so much at the beginning and slowly increased her workload. Now that I’m in my group, she makes my duties easier.”

”Do you think she can take over your duties once you get busier?”

”With the basic stuff, yes. I haven’t even her any sensitive information yet.”

”Let me ask you one thing. Do you think she can be trusted?”

”She hasn’t let me down. So yes, I think she can, but I can't promise she won’t make a mistake.”

”Jieun suggested a contract like the two of you have as assurance.”

Irene looks perplexed about Jieun's suggestion, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

”No, that’s a great idea. I should have mentioned it sooner.”

In reality, Miyeon has grown on Irene throughout their time together. Hearing about binding her into a contract like the one she is in saddens her as she knows that Miyeon’s freedom will be stripped.

“Here are her files, sir.”

You read over her report, the things she’s helped Irene with, and her newly gained skills as an assistant. You opened her health file and noticed that her birthday was recent, “Oh, she just turned eighteen. How nice.”

Irene clenches her fist, seeing your grin. She understands what you’re thinking and is disgusted by it.

”Yes, I bought her a birthday and a small dinner together.”

”That’s sweet.”

”Thank you, sir.”

You close her file and say, “Thank you for the report. I’ll have IU put together her new contract and set up a health check for Miyeon as soon as possible.”

”Is that really necessary?”

”I would have thought you would be happy. She’ll take over some of your duties unless you want her to?”

”No, I’m grateful,” but she just felt sorry for Miyeon.

”Okay, you can go now.”

Irene exits your office, defeated, and heads to meet her members in the training room.

——-

It’s been a few days since your meeting with Irene, and now Jieun and Irene are meeting with Miyeon.

She’s nervous about the meeting, hoping it's about her effort as a junior assistant.

She is greeted by Jieun and escorted to the conference room you use for private meetings.

“Irene unnie, good morning.”

”Good morning, Miyeon.”

They sit and discuss Miyeon’s position as a junior assistant. It’s most of what you and Irene talked about a few days ago, but now it comes to the main part. Irene mentions that she believes Miyeon can take on a larger role within the company. This makes Miyeon smile and happy about her efforts being looked at after her mistake a few months ago.

“Irene and I would like to consider you for the position of one of the CEO’s personal assistants.”

Miyeon looks surprised and at Irene sitting across from her, “Does that mean that I’ll be working in the same position as you, unnie?”

Irene replies, “Actually, I’ll be taking a small role since I am trying to focus on my group, but you’ll be working closely with Jieun.”

Jieun interrupts and asks, “What do you think? Would you be interested in the position?”

Miyeon immediately replies, “Yes, I’d love that. I want to prove myself to everyone here after my incident a few months back, so I would love to do my share.”

”Great, that’s the sprint,” says Jieun. “We figured you would accept, so I brought up a contract for the meeting. You know, just to make this official.”

”Yes, of course.”

She goes over the contract and covers the position as the CEO’s assistant, as well as some benefits.

”I talked to CEO-nim, and he said that you’ll be getting a biweekly salary and spending money.”

Miyeon looks at the contract and is surprised by the amount, “Oh my god, isn’t that too much?”

”He wants to make sure you’re comfortable.”

”Thank you so much.”

”Of course. Also, this section talks about you moving in with the CEO and assisting in his daily needs, like taking notes, setting up meetings, getting his dry cleaning, making sure he has his meals and other miscellaneous things.”

”Oh, I’ll be living with him?”

She looks at Irene, worried, and Irene responds, “We’ve all done it at one point, mainly at the beginning. Once you get out of your probationary period, you will have the ability to move out to your own apartment like we did.”

“Oh, I get my own apartment?”

“Irene says, “Yes, like the one we live in. The CEO provides it for us.”

”Okay, I’m excited.”

”Down below are some of the perks that come with the job.”

Miyeon looks at the list and is surprised by the amount of perks, each better than the previous one.”

”Where do I sign?”

Irene interrupts, “Wait, we also want to let you know that this job comes with sensitive information, so confidentiality is required.”

”Yes, I understand.”

”Are you sure? Would you like us to give you some time as you read over the contract to make sure that everything is okay?”

Jieun gives Irene a side eye, signaling to not step out of bounds.

She turns the numerous pages and skims over the large letters that talk about job expectations, payment, sickness, insurance, dental, memberships, education opportunities, a termination clause, and other issues that are in fine print.

“Where do I sign?”

Jieun points at the numerous blank spaces that require Miyeon’s signature. After signing about ten pages, she gets to the eleventh page and asks, “I have fully read and understood the content of this agreement. I sign this document entirely of my own accord without any enforcement and accept any consequences if the agreement is violated or broken.

Irene tries to get Miyeon’s attention, but Jieun stops her, allowing Miyeon to give her final signature and stamps her Dojang (family seal) as a signed agreement.

A tear falls from Irene, knowing that Miyeon has sealed her fate as your newest toy. “Unnie, are you crying?”

”Sorry, it's just that…”

”Irene is just happy for you, that's all.”

“Aww, thanks, unnie. I’ll make sure to make you proud.”

Irene feels like she’s about to cry and says, “Oh wow, look at the time. I have another commitment to get to. I’ll take my leave, but Jieun will continue with your onboarding.”

”Thanks again, unnie.”

Irene walks away and exits the room, leaving Jieun and Miyeon alone. Jieun asks Miyeon if she has any questions, and they continue to talk for a while. Most questions are about the role and about the chance to debut in the near future. Jieun replies that anything about her debut is up to the CEO, but she and Irene can answer questions about the job.

Jieun then takes out a folder with Miyeon’s name on the front, “I have your health file right here. It shows that all shots are up to date and have no signs of illness; they are practically healthy.”

”Yes, I take care of myself.”

”It shows.”

Miyeon giggles at the compliment when she hears Jieun ask, “Miyeon, are you still a virgin?”

”Ehh?”

Surprised by the question, she tries to calm herself before answering in a shaky voice, “Ye… yes, I am.”

”Just wondering. Since of your previous mistake.”

There’s a moment of silence, causing Miyeon to feel nervous, but Jieun changes the conversation, “I’ll submit the paperwork today, and your new badge should be ready for tomorrow. Also, begin packing, and I’ll send someone to pick up your items in the morning.

——

Miyeon has spent most of the night packing her belongings. She tried to talk to Irene but never got home. Waking up, she sees a message on her phone from Irene saying that she ended up crashing at her member’s dorm after practice and will see her later today.

Miyeon hears a ring and sees it’s the workers from the moving company. They help take her belongings to the CEO’s condo, where Jieun greets them. She escorts you to your room, which is much bigger than the one she was in previously.

After unpacking the necessities, Miyeon accompanies Jieun to her office, where she gets her new badge and a copy of her job requirements and daily and weekly assignments.

“It’s going to be most of the things you do now, but over time, you’ll be responsible for what’s on the bottom of the list.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Also, this is what a typical schedule for the CEO looks like. Meetings throughout the day, but his mornings and evenings are mostly free, and there are gaps throughout the day.”

Miyeon looks at the schedule and sees an asterisk for the morning and late evenings. “What are the asterisks for?”

“The CEO might need your help in the morning. For the evenings, it’s just helping him after a long day at work.”

“Oh, like a massage?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve done that before with my appa and eomma.”

“Nice. I’ll show you how it’s done since it’s your first time.”

“Thank you, Jieun unnie.”

“You can go home and unpack. Just meet me in my apartment around dinner. I want to go over some things with you.”

——

Miyeon meets Jieun at her apartment a few hours later. They both enjoy a simple dinner and talk about their personal life when she receives a notification that you arrived back at your condo.

“He’s back from his dinner. Let’s get ready and greet him.” She looks at Miyeon and says, “Come with me. I’ll give you some things to make sure you look presentable for today.”

They exit the elevator and head towards the large doors. Using their pin, they enter the room and hear the shower.

“Seems like he’s showering. Come with me.”

Miyeon follows Jieun to the service room and starts to get undressed. Surprised, Miyeon asks, “What are you doing, unnie?”

“Get undressed, rinse yourself, and put this on,” as Jieun hands her a two-piece bikini.

Jieun looks at Miyeon as she shows a lost expression, “Quickly before he gets out.”

“What are we doing?”

“Service.”

“Ehh?”

She helps Miyeon undress and pulls her to the shower. Miyeon tries to cover herself with her arm but is shocked by the cold water coming from the shower head. Miyeon’s mind goes wild, thinking of what type of service Jieun meant.

After rinsing, they quickly dry themselves and put on their bikini before coming out of the service room.

They see you swimming in your pool, going from one end to the other. Before reaching the sliding door, Jieun pulls Miyeon to the slide and whispers, “Make sure to do whatever he asks. He can be nice, but if you rub him the wrong way, he’ll make your life rough and even ruin your career.”

Miyeon nods nervously and follows Jieun, who slides the door open and walks towards the side of the pool. She waits until your head pops out of the water and waves at you.

“Good evening, sir. I see that you’re enjoying your swim.”

”After a busy day at work, I couldn’t help myself. It’s such a stress reliever.”

”That’s great to hear. I brought Miyeon with me today,” and waves at you to step forward.

”Good evening, sir,” and bows her head.

”I see that Jieun is teaching you properly.”

”Of course. May we join you?”

”Yes”, giving a satisfied smile.

Jieun walks towards the edge of the pool, grabs the rail, and walks into the pool.

You look at Miyeon, who is standing frozen, “Join us.” She nods and follows, walking slowly into the pool. She makes her way to where you two are and is surprised to see your hand on Jieun’s ass.

Jieun giggles and gets closer to you, letting you grip her cheeks, “Nice and firm like always.” Jieun blushes, “I try to work out since you like it so much.”

You look at Miyeon and extend your hand, “Come, don’t be afraid.” Miyeon hesitates but remembers what Jieun said earlier and extends her hand. “Wow, Miyeon, you look great in that bikini.”

”Thank you…” trying to hide her face by tilting down.

Suddenly she feels the touch of your hand on her ass and freezes. “Miyeon, you have such a soft butt.” There is no response, and Jieun speaks up, “I bet she’s happy about your compliment but is too shy to say anything. How about we spice things up a little?" and undoes her bra, letting it float to the top.

You let your hand off of Mieyon’s asscheek and grab Jieun’s waist, pulling her towards you. She wraps her legs around your waist, and you go in for a kiss on her neck. Jieun moans, feeling your lips kiss her neck to her collarbone.

Miyeon remains frozen, seeing you massage Jieun’s breast as you kiss her. She understands now what Jieun meant when she said “service” and realizes what her role as the CEO’s personal assistant meant.

Out of nowhere, Jieun says, “Did you know that Miyeon is a virgin?” Miyeon sees your attention and immediately goes towards her. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, her body was silky smooth as well.”

You put Jieun down, walk towards Mieyon, and say, “Come with me.”

”Where are we going?”

”To the bedroom, of course.”

She looks back at Jieun, who follows behind them. Miyeon asks in a trembling voice, “I don’t want my first time like this.”

Jieun replies, “Remember what I told you earlier. You belong to him now.”

You take Miyeon into the bedroom, drop your shorts, and toss them into the hamper. “Undress, I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Miyeon's body trembles at the idea that she’s going to lose her virginity in this manner. She assumed it would be with her boyfriend and a romantic setting, but instead, as your assistant.

You say sternly, “Strip, while I’m being nice.” Miyeon flinches and undoes her bra, dropping it on the floor before moving on to her bottom.

With her completely nude, you circle around and admire her body, small breasts, flat stomach, and pretty face. You get behind her, part her hair to the side, and kiss the side of her neck.

Miyeon closes her eyes, foreign to a male’s touch. She tells herself that she can do it; her dreams of becoming an idol are much bigger, and she is willing to sacrifice her body for a moment that will change her life.

You can see her shiver in fear, like a gazelle that’s about to be eaten by a lion. It turns you on, the feeling of having control of a female. You get closer to her, and she gets startled when you press your body against hers. She feels a thick, hot sensation touching her back and remains frozen.

You whisper in her ear, “I’m going to give you two choices; you can be in control of what happens to you, or I make the choices for you.”

She is at least thankful that she can decide on how she’ll lose her virginity. “I can do it myself.”

“Alright, tell me what you want me to do.”

Miyeon tries to come up with an idea quickly. She looks around and says, “Get on the bed and lay down.”

You agree, head to the large white bed, and lie in the middle of it. She walks and climbs on the bed, sitting next to you.

With no idea what to do, she climbs on your thighs and stares at your cock. It's the first time she's seen a cock, and she is lost on what to do. She turns around and looks at Jieun, who is standing in the corner. “Miyeon, grab it with your hand and stroke it like this. Here, you use this.” With the bottle of lube in her hand she opens it, pours some on your cock, coating it. She uses her right hand, stroking it awkwardly at first. As she continues, it starts to get bigger, which makes her use both hands.

“I don’t think it's going to fit inside of me.”

You respond, “You don’t know until you try,” giving her a smirk. She turns around once more and looks at Jieun, hoping for her to save her. Instead, Jieun replies, “Miyeon, you got this. Hwaiting!”

There’s no way around it; she has a future to think about, and giving her virginity is a small price to pay. That’s what she is trying to make herself believe. It’s the only way she’ll be able to accept what she is about to do.

Miyeon then grabs your cock and lifts herself off. She tries to align your cock to her entrance and is scared by how big it really is compared to her small entrance.

She lowers her body, pressing her lower lips against the mushroom tip of your cock, and stops. Miyeon looks at you with the look of someone who’s accepted her fate and control of her life to you and slowly drops her body.

You feel your tip spread her lower lips, pushing into her virgin hole. She groans, experiencing being stretched this much for the first time. She stops when she reaches her thin barrier and looks at you once more before giving her a hungry smile.

With her hands on your abs, she gives a hard drop; she gasps but immediately bites her lip. “Fuck, you’re so tight!”

There’s no response, only her body trembling as she’s trying to quickly adjust to the pressure. You place your hand on her arm, but she waves you off. She immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that I’m trying to get adjusted to your size.”

“Don’t worry, it’s expected.” You touch her arm once more, this time allowing you to embrace her.

“Want me to take over?”

She nods, “Yes.”

You place your hands around her small waist and lift her, pulling her out from her cunt. “Bend over and get on all fours.”

She does as she’s told and places her body on top of the large pillow. She presses her face against it and closes her eyes and she feels you press your cock into her cunt.

“Hmph… hmm…”

She clenches the pillow, feeling your cock stretch her walls. She yelps when you hit the back of her womb, “Wait, wait, you’re breaking me!” You don’t respond and increase thrust inside her. She clenches her hands on the pillow as you use her body for relief. You want to make sure that her body gets used to your cock, especially her womb, since you’re its new owner.

“Does it feel better when I take over?”

There’s no response from Miyeon, so you raise your arm and give her a slight slap on her ass. She yelps and lifts her head, “Ow!”

You increase the pace of your thrust, your balls hitting her flesh, “Fuck, you’re going to be as great as my new toy.” Miyeon just continues to bite onto the pillow, listening to you talk about her position as your new toy.

Before long you’re about to cum and warn Mieyon on your orgasm nearing. “I’m going to cum.” Miyeon lifts her head, her mouth drooling, and pleads, “Please… outside… do it outside…” You scoff and say, “You’re in no position to throw out demands, I’ll cum wherever I want, and I always cum inside.”

Miyeon feels your cock throb and releases a large wave of cum, flooding her walls and womb. “No! So much inside!” Your cum floods her womb to the brim; she can feel her womb getting addicted to your cum and cock, knowing that there is no coming back after this.

Jieun leaves after the second round and is satisfied, knowing she did a good job for her master. You continue to fuck Miyeon, round after round, until she passes out, and even then fuck her until you get your fill.

Miyeon wakes late in the morning completely nude, and her lower body is completely sore. She tries to get up, but any pressure on her legs causes her to tremble and fall back onto the bed.

“Miyeon, it’s me, Irene.”

”Unnie, come in.”

Irene comes inside, sees the mess, and feels sorry for what Miyeon just went through. “How are you feeling?”

”Horrible, I lost my virginity, and my body is completely sore.”

”I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

”Jieun said it was necessary if I wanted the slightest chance to make it in the industry.”

There’s a silence, and Irene breaks the ice and says, “Here, take this.”

”What is it?

”A morning-after pill.”

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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago

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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I think I went too hard on this, but I also feel like it wasn't enough. I really wanted to play around with dialogue more. I was going to have the Bats hit Smalltown in this, but I think it would be best if the confrontation(s) had it's own chapter. Let me know what y'all think!

A/N: This is my longest writing yet. Just a heads up. Hope that's all good!

Warnings: Yandere themes, alluded murder, platonic bed sharing, OC usage.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The way the raindrops on the windshield seemed to chase each other didn't even registered to you as your heart continues to palpitate in your chest. Your hands shaking on the steering wheel as the numbers on the mile markers continued to change, and they weren't growing any steadier with each passing one. The way the excitement to gyrated inside your chest as the old truck continued on the patch-work road made you feel lightheaded. Not in a bad way, but in a way you could get addicted to.

It didn't stop the nausea curdling in your stomach, but you chalk that up to this being your first true act of rebellion. Even if you felt it was justified. It wasn't like they were going to chase after you, though. They had made their priorities clear. Clear as Gotham's smog filled skies. You weren't going to allow yourself to waste away in that manor filled with more secrets than people when there was a life outside of it that you had once been a part of.

It wasn't until you were certain a full day had past that the storm had finally dissipated, both over Gotham and over your mind. The trepidation in your belly at long last fading into a sense serenity. Even if it was only a fleeting thing. Water rarely stays still for long when the storm comes.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Back in Gotham the family had finally dragged their bone-weary selves back to the cave. Some collapsing in the nearest got. Some dragging themselves upstairs for their comfort of their bed. But, surprisingly, it's Damian that drags himself to your room. The past two days had worn him down and he just wanted his sibling, even if it meant disturbing them. Even if they were mad at him.

It doesn't register to him that your bed is empty. That some of your things are missing. He crawls under the covers and curls into the pillow like a temperamental cat. Resting his eyes temporarily he says. You're his sibling, you shouldn't mind. (He had heard you laughing on the phone about how your other little brother used to do this on occasion. He wants to know what that’s like)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

As everyone rest their heads back home, unaware that the worse was yet to come even after the lighting had passed, you start to turn down familiar roads. Roads you had memorized every bump of once. The roads that lead you towards a home you had missed and things you used to know.

There's a few new bumps and pot holes that you don't recognize, but you're too excited to see them as the warnings they were.

As you pull into the driveway of Nana and Grand Daddy's house, you can see Nana standing outside. Waving for you in front of the two-story bedroom house Daddy had designed and built for them years ago. The place was well cared for despite the creaky steps on the front porch that you had spent many hot summers on. Blowing snow across the yard to keep cool.

When you finally park the truck and hop out Nana's already rushing towards you with surprising speed for her old age. Already your arms are opening for her when she suddenly scoops you up and locks you in an tight embrace.

"I missed you." You mumble into her shoulder. Trying to fight back a few tears as the scent of her bitter perfume fills your nose.

"I missed you more. We all missed you more, sugarplum." You hear the gravel in her voice as she gives you one last squeeze. Holding you so tight that for a moment you feel you can't breath. But, before you need to gasp for air, she pulls back slightly. Her aged brown eyes looking you over appraisingly. "You sure ya' don't wanna rest up a bit? You look thin, sweetpea."

A soft noise escapes your lips in a puff.

"I'm sure. Still too wired from the drive." You reply as you wipe those few stray tears that somehow trickled down your cheeks. Your best efforts to keep them contained failing.

Everything around you feels different. It's home, but there's something about it that is different. The smells are the same, the sights are the same, even the sounds are the same. But, you chalk it up to the way the Gotham air still clings to your skin and the silence of the manor that has left your ears sensitive to the slightest shifts in change.

"I… I kinda feel bad about leaving how I did." Comes your immediate confession as she continues to hold you like you're made of soft gold.

Even if it seemed unnecessary to say, it felt nice just to blurt out how you were feeling to someone who actually listened. Besides, Nana had always made you tell her what was bothering you if there ever was something. It was a habit to tell her things by now.

"Leaving Gotham, I mean…. running away in the night without warning, Nana."

"Nonsense, baby." Already she's brushing your cheek and trying to soothe the worry and fear. Holding your face between her hands so all you can focus on is her.

"You ain't done not a thing wrong. They was being unreasonable. Besides, you can just call them later and tell them your alright." For a moment, you feel like she's lecturing you. Like she used to when you where little. About being safe and staying near her at all times when you went out into town with her. But, now you're grown and she still does it.

"Are you sure, Nana? Because I know You, and Momma, and Daddy used to get on to me about asking permission before doin' things-"

"Ah-ah," She irrupts your before you could finish, "This is one of those incidents where it's better to ask for forgiveness, I promise. Besides, I know you asked first. Not your fault they was being unreasonable. Not your fault at all, baby." Nana's voice going from stern to a soft coo as she starts to lead the way into the old house.

You take a breath of the place, smelling the seasonal candles that you usually had lit this time of year. Noting the slight changes in decor. Projects that Nana probably had Grand Daddy completing while you were gone. There's even more pictures on the walls. Some more of Momma and Daddy, and even more of you. Nana had even printed out the ones you had sent her on your phone while you where in Gotham.

It was nice she missed you so much that she made you the center piece of the picture gallery, but still it felt odd. You had been hoping to see more pictures of your brother, Jean Luke. To actually see what memories he had made without you. But, you don't comment. You just head towards the kitchen. Sitting in your usual spot at the counter to continue talking with her.

You can smell her cooking. Nana really wasn't the best cook, but she went all out making a few of your favorite dishes with as much effort as she could muster out of her bones.

"So, how's Lukie been doing?" You mean to start conversationally, but your tone drifts to sounding more concern when the reminder about the lack of pictures on the wall crosses your mind and the thought that maybe he actually hasn't been coping well since you’ve been gone pops into your head as well. "I know what he tells me. That he's doin' fine when we’re on the phone, but how is he actually doing, Nana?"

"He's doing better." She replies while checking the oven, a slight sigh in her voice. She caught your tone of concern. "Still misses your Momma and Daddy. Bless. But, he's doing better. He'll probably feel ever better now that your back." She gives you a grin before sliding you a cutting board and a knife.

Already you fall into step, peeling and chopping the things she hand you.

"I'm not actually back, back." You mention, biting your lip when you catch her freeze.

"What you mean, baby?" Her soft voice doesn't match her tense shoulders. The lines on her face growing taunt.

"Well, it's just I kinda feel bad about how I left things with Bruce and 'em. And, I still gotta finish high school." You start to explain. It is true. You had a whole day to try to think about your actions. Getting out of Gotham had helped you process your feelings about the place. You still didn't like Gotham, but you'd been told all your life that family was important. You just didn't know that the family that had told you that wanted you to put them before all others.

"Oh, baby, you won't be needing none of that. Besides this is where you belong. We need you here. Them city folks just don't understand you, baby." You're about to protest when she continues on just before your lips could part to speak.

"Besides, Tanner's really been missin' you. He about turned himself into a frog when Mae showed him a picture of you in that pretty little outfit she made for ya’. The boy about croaked." Nana gives you that meddlesome look you knew to well. The one she gave you when she spoke about her church friend's grandson's. The one that always made you bush.

It was a clever distraction, and not at all a lie. Nana had watched Tanner turn green with envy at the sight of you in that dress and with your date. And, he about sang when he heard about your date's death right after. The town all had to forcefully stop him from driving back to Gotham to just to comfort you.

"Nana, you're being silly again. He don't like me like that." You brush off the flush with practiced easy, giving her a stern look of your own.

"Things change, baby. You're grown now. Everything's gonna be different, but just the same." She muttered that last part so low you could hardly hear it. Just as your about to question that statement, she changes topic once more.

"Now, you wanna stay we me and your Grand Daddy tonight?" The question stunning you for a second. You hadn't even thought about where you were going to stay when you started your way back here. But, the longing creeps back into your chest once more.

"Actually, I want to stay at the old house. I- I miss my own bed." You once again find yourself confessing, though it goes much deeper than that. Nana likes it when you let her see even surface level things, usually she's able to draw the proper conclusions from them. However, this time Nana tenses for the briefest moment, but then relaxes almost instantly after. You nearly miss it.

"Of course, baby. Of course. Take Lukie with you. It'd do him some good and I'd hate for you to be alone all up in there. The loneliness might get to ya." She seemed to place a bit too much emphasis on bringing your brother with you. But, you weren't going to complain.

After all, "It already got to me, Nana. It already got to me." You whisper to yourself before letting Nana regale you with all the latest town gossip.

It's not long until you're making plans to help set up for your brother's and by extension your own birthday tomorrow. Happily chatting away until Grand Daddy and Jean-Luke walk in the door.

Instantly, receiving a soft kiss on the forehead from Grand Daddy along with a tight grip on your shoulders and a firm, "Missed you, sugarplum." Before he slowly lets you free to help Nana and quite speaking to her.

You turn to your brother, little Jean-Luc, and reach for him with the swiftness of a breeze. He seems to hesitate before returning your hug with an almost intense ferocity that strangely makes you think of your last hug with Dick. Like he doesn't want to let go. Like he's almost scared to let go.

You let him hold you a good long while, standing there in the kitchen. It should feel like a relief to hold him again. Yet, you have the sudden urge to carry him away. Something that makes the winds inside your chest tell you to flee. You mange to swallow it down, but not the tears. Those freely pour down your cheeks as you both whisper about how much you missed each other back and forth. You notice how oddly quite he is. It's easy to blame that on the grief you both still feel, but it's different.

Sitting at the table and enjoying the meal feels different. Everything is different. Including the way Jean-Luke grips your hand when you tell him your going to stay at the old house and how he can come if he wants.

You almost want to laugh at how fast he leaps into the front seat of the truck. The grin on his face the most genuine you've seen since you got here.

Driving up to the old house made you ache. A deep ache that you felt from you chest to your palms. The dirty from the buried grief you felt being disturbed. As you glanced at your little brother’s face, the one that looked so much like Momma’s, you could tell he felt it too. Which bothers you because he shouldn’t have had to bury his grief like you did yours.

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Back at the manor, in the short time it had been since Damian rested his head on your pillow. He noticed it was too still. You were always moving in the manor. Always breezing through the halls. Yet now things had gone still. Not just in your room, but through out the manor.

His green eyes had opened, and sharpened. You should be here resting with him. Where were you? He hadn't bothered to keep track of your belongings before, but some things felt out of place. After a brief scan of the room, he made his way towards the cave. His senses on high alert for you. Straining to overhear your usual chattering on the phone or your pattering feet on the carpeted halls.

But, there was nothing. Most everyone was asleep or dozing and the stillness bothered him. The cooling realization filled him with each step as he walked down into the cave.

Sitting at the computer, Bruce goes over the footage of the previous nights. The storm was suspicious, and the churning in his gut and the way his hair stood on end didn’t help those suspicions. But, when Damian had entered the cave, those suspicions went from whispers to screams.

"Damian, get everyone to the cave. Now."

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"Missing? What the hell do you mean missing?" Dick was the first to respond to the news, standing at attention and livid despite having recently been woken up by an anxious Damian. Well, as anxious as Damian would physically allow himself to be in front of anyone.

"Damian brought it to my attention and the truck is gone from the garage." Bruce replied. Normally, this would sound like his usual paranoia flaring, but no one questioned him this time. Just the grim look on his face and the way his shoulder's tensed let everyone know that this was a completely serious matter.

Exhaustion immediately melting form everyone as the mission suddenly shifted.

"Barbara, pull up the manor security cameras from the night first night of the storm."

She speedily rolled her chair over to the computer and started pulling up the footage. It was only because she had years to develop her self control that her fingers didn't shake as she typed on the keys.

I should have been watching them. I should have checked on them.

The footage begins to show the exact moment that their sweet sibling left their room with a large bag of their shoulder and a excited grin on their face.

Why are you smiling like that? Why are are you happy to be leaving them? Why are you leaving? Why are you leaving?

A million thoughts flash through each of their heads. All filled with variations of despair and worry. Those are quickly amplified when the camera video finally goes out due to the multiple lighting strikes that hit the manor and the generators.

"They left right when the manor's and cave's generator were hit." Tim jumps in into detective mode right away, not wanting to linger on the disparaging thoughts in his head. And, the budding anger in his chest for allowing this to happen. And, for you leaving them. Him.

"Why are their eyes glowing?" Duke points out, coming out of his head finally when his eyes catch the flicker of a glow on the screen. It was a blessing that the cameras were so state of the art.

"What?" That snaps everyone else out of their heads. All of them moving behind Barbara to see what he's talking about.

"Their eyes," He bends forward of the keys, lightly pressing his finger to where you face is on the high definition screen. "They're glowing."

"Babs…" Dick murmurs into her left ear, his eye's never leaving your frozen smiling face.

"On it." She nearly hisses right back. Fingers actually shaking this time as she zooms into your face and changes a few setting of the camera to see the light waves that were captured.

And, right there on the screen, was the hint illumination in those large eyes of yours.

"Holy shit, you're right." Stephanie is the first to speak. Stumbling back as she starts running a million different scenarios through her head. The other's following. Some still sitting enraged or worried about what this might possibly mean.

Possible hypothesises start being blurted out.

Mind Control?

Hypnosis?

Magic?

God, I hope not.

Aliens?

Even worse than the magic.

"Maybe someone from that town manipulated them?" Cassandra suddenly suggests, having silently watched the footage of you play over and over again. You looked excited, genuinely excited, and it broke her heart that you did. But, there was a part of her that was still hopeful. That maybe you left because you didn't know any better. Didn't realize how much they adored you. They'll fix that. They fix that as soon as they get you back.

"Was anything tampered with when that asshole dropped off the truck?" Jason grumbles while rubbing the bridge of his nose. Of course he is livid. You fucking left. Sure, he liked putting the fear of God into you and could even tell you were unhappy at times, but you're an idiot if you think it's safe out there. And, you need to come home. Fuck, he'll even apologize and make up for scaring you. Please, just come back.

"No." Tim knows this because he made sure to check. Bruce may not have wanted to touch the truck and forbid them from messing with it. But, that didn't stop Tim from snooping on you at the very least. He just wanted to pretend he was in your fondest memories. Only until he could help you make newer better ones.

"Maybe a drug? Some chemical compound?" Duke eventually suggest, praying it isn't so.

"We could run a test? Just to check." Already Barbara begins pulling up the programs necessary, while Tim sets up the lab equipment. Dick is already running up to your room to grab any strand of hair he can find that might have been left behind. And, maybe checking to see if they were all wrong and you really didn't leave them. Him.

"Run them all."

That draws everyone's attention back to Bruce. The man had been standing stoically in silence. Brooding in silence as his thoughts overwhelmed him.

You left him. You left because of him. This wasn't some disagreement on how he did things as Batman. This wasn't because you were trying to get back at him. You left him willing because of what he had done as your father. No one has ever willing left him like this before. Not his children. Not his parents. Not anyone he has ever allowed himself to actually care for. It makes him mad, but more than anything it makes him want to collapse in on himself. He won't. Obviously. But, he's going to bring you back home. He's going to fix his mistake while he has the chance and you will give him that chance.

"Bruce… That includes a DNA test."

"I said all of them."

"What?" It's Damian who finally speaks up. For the first time since he alerted the other's of your disappearance. "Why would you do that? It's unnecessary."

It's a betrayal, he thinks. Not on your part. You may be too soft and too kind and too fragile and too simple minded. But, he knows you’re his. He may have gotten over his obsession with the blood in his veins, but the blood in yours connects you to him in a way none of his other siblings can have. He doesn't even think to question it. Doesn't want to. And, for a moment, he feels utter betrayed by his sire for thinking to doubt it.

"Damian."

"NO. It is unnecessary." He doesn't glare, but the anger is plain on his face. How dare father question?

Regardless of what Damian wants, Bruce nods to Barbara and Tim when a downtrodden Dick reenters the cave with a hairbrush in hand. You really were gone.

"Do it."

"Father-"

"Damian. They are our family, regardless of the results."

Bruce will love you regardless. He did a DNA test all those years ago. He knows your his, but he needs to make sure your still his. That something didn't change you or take you from him.

For Damian it's a tense minute. He knows you'll be family. No matter the results. But, he wants to share something with you that only an exclusive few people on this Earth or in this life ever will.

"Fine."

After that, it's silence for the next forty-three minutes. The programs running on the BatComputer dinging softly as each one is completed. Barbara's fingers rub together as she watches each one.

Tim doesn't bother looking, too anxious to sit around and wait. Already, he is on a spare computer looking into God knows what. Whatever it is, the rest of them can tell it's about you. Just by seeing the way his pupils are blown wide and darting about his screen.

Dick stands tense. Normally he would move about. Pace or do something. But, it seems wrong right now. The discomfort in the stillness is nothing compared to his current distress at knowing you're gone.

Stephanie debates internally on ripping the spare computer away from Tim. Wanting to see what he's found on you. Wondering if he knows if you're alright or not. Wondering if he's just watching looped footage of you and not sharing.

Duke is thinking. Really, he's contemplating what's happening. This is going to spiral into something. He feels it. He might not be the most experienced or most trained, but he knows something is changing. And, for once, he's not scared of the idea. Mostly because he knows by the end of this you will be back home. They won't allow you to stay lost.

"DNA test shows their a match to you, Bruce. And, we compared them to your old test of them too. Still a match."

Damian nearly beams, but manages to hide his relief under a smug smile.

"I told you, father."

"I didn't doubt." And, it is true. He never doubted you were his. But, he is still searching for an explanation.

"No drugs. No anything in their system that would register, but-" Barbara stops when she notices the screen. The anomaly on it. The one test that triggered. A question being possibly answered from the result and a million more arising if true.

"Oh."

"What is it?" Jason breaks the silence that's once again gone over everyone. The sense of unease bubbling through them all.

"I ran their DNA through all the usual test, and there was one single positive one."

"Which one?"

"Meta gene. And…"

Oh.

"It's active."

"Son of a bitch."

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As your brother and you start getting settled in for the night in the old house, airing out the stale air, pretending the dusting isn't there, you wonder around a bit. Similar to how you would back at the manor. Only this time there's no historical paintings on the wall. Just pictures of your own history laid out before you.

You'd never been more grateful for all the photos taken by you mother. All the times she would chase you down with a brush or comb in hand yelling at you, "You need to make sure you have nice hair for the picture. Or, the one's with terrible hair will be the one's that forever."

"But, what if I want them to last forever?" Your voice had been young and cheeky then.

"What if I just want them to last a little bit longer?" Now that voice was older and much more solemn.

Quickly, you shake the thought from your head. Setting your bag back in your old room for the night. A quick glance at the old space shows that someone's been in it recently. Probably your old friend Mae, judging by the amount of clothes spilling from your closet and dresser. She was always stuffing things in here for you. It makes you smile fondly to know that she missed you despite your phone calls early every day.

As you walk back down the hall, you find Jean-Luc standing outside your parent's old room.

"You wanna come with me to see them?"

"Yeah." The word soft, full of unshed grief as you both walk out to the back. There's an old live oak with Spanish moss out there, and two dead people that were loved and buried underneath it.

"Daddy always liked it when you made it rain when it was sunny out." Lukie whispers, recalling all the times you won the water-gun fights.

You remember the summer showers. The snowy Christmases. The way you used to blow the pollen away. The hurricanes you tamed. The tornadoes you saved the town from . The memories make causing the rain difficult. But, when you walk through the slightly overgrown grass towards the two stones the tears fall easy while the rain falls hard.

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"I pulled up all the weather patterns for that region and the theory is starting to look more factual by the second." Tim's already taken the helm, old weather radar scans on the screen. Files on Smalltown and it's people pulled up for display.

And, an entire screen dedicated to you. You. You. YoU. yOU. YOU? YOU

"So, it's confirmed they caused the storm. But, why?" It's Stephanie that asks while pacing back and forth next to the all of gear. Her worry and disbelief illuminated by the display lights.

"Princess was probably pissed." Jason says while cleaning his guns. The parts neatly laid out on the table while he shines and greases each piece. Twice. Thrice. Over and Over.

"But, why?" Dick is finally in motion, tapping his foot as impatiently. He knows they need all the information and a plan before they can get you back. But, the wait is straining him.

Barbara gives him a single look in reply. One that they've all shared often enough to know the meaning of.

"They hid it pretty well." Duke mushes. Strangely enough he's happy with this information. Everyone else in this family is technically a normal person, just with maxed out skill stats and trauma. Now, you two can both be normal childhood bros and meta buddies together.

"Cass, did you suspect anything?"

"I didn't ask." Which translates to, she knew, but didn't want to say anything that would drive you away. Seems kind of pointless now that you're gone, though.

The bitter silence reigns once more, before Tim speaks up.

"Incoming. The Asshole is getting a call from Nana." A few clicks and they're listening to the sound of your old childhood crush and your dearest Nana speak. The topic? You.

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That night you curled up with Jean-Luc in your parents old bed. Like you both used to when nightmares made cowards. You had to dig the old bedding out of the storage. The scent of the detergent Momma used to use faint on them. But, the two of you burrowed underneath the duvet like you were trying to hide from the world.

"How you feelin'?" You whisper to him, the room only illuminated by the stars in the window and the faint bathroom light.

"It's weird without Momma and Daddy. Everythin' is weird now and scary." He mutters in reply. He practically plants himself into your side.

"I know. I feel that way about it too."

"No, I mean… here. In town it's weird. Eveybody be actin' weird since you left." There's something in the way his voice shakes that makes you think he's not making this up

"What do you mean about everyone actin' weird, hun? I thought you were spendin' time with everyone. Nana said you were hanging out with Mae and Tanner. I know Mae is odd, but-"

"Nana's being weird too. And, Grand Daddy. She don't let me do nothin' fun at all these days. Says everything's to dangerous, and if somethin' happened to me you'd be upset." The child interrupts, sounding remarkably like his age with his complaints. But the low sound of his voice sounds less like mutterings and more like a cautious whisper.

"Well, that's cause Nana loves you. She don't want nothin' to happen to you, baby." You try to reassure him, as you've always done.

"But, she's always going on and on about you. She's almost as bad as Tanner." The way he says that name makes you pause. Tanner's been mention quiet a lot since you've been back. And, you've only been back for a couple of hours.

"Tanner's gone on about me?" You try to sound bashful, try to sound like its a compliment. But, the blush doesn't come.

"Yeah." Lukie practically roots himself into your chest where your heart is beginning to pound. "Always going on about you and the future and ranting about Gotham. He… he's kinda scary. I saw him and Grand Daddy a few months ago dragging something into the swamp. It looked… it looked about as long as a gator, but it wasn't a gator. It had clothes on."

"Baby, what do you think it was?" You somehow keep your voice steady as your arms wrap around him. Clinging to him and shielding him.

"I don't think I wanna remember. I just want everything to go back to normal."

After that, you let the wind outside the house howl. The way it blows through the trees with your fear keeps you up. Eventually you force the rain once again. Trying to lull Lukie-boy and yourself to sleep. For a brief moment, a flicker of a thought before you drift off into an uneasy slumber you think...

Should I have stayed?

And, your not certain if your talking about here or Gotham.

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A/N: I'd say there's about two more parts of this left, then we'll be really focusing on Pregnant!Reader for a bit. Got a blurb list in the works for it and a few ideas. And, I really really really need to clean out my ask box. Oops.

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Taglist

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury @lilyalone @addie-r-u-ok @space1crow @imaginarydreams @dhanyasri @rosalietodd013 @rissareader @rando2509 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @interobanginyourmom @heyitsaloy @myanyan-me @animegoddess15 @resident-cryptid @schaarfyx @skwunkler @erikasurfer @enchantingarcadecreation @redkarmakai i @be3b0o @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @ratchetprime211 @labryel l @kawaii-cakes @linaisadream @vanessa-boo @m0063576 @oooof-ifellforyou @minkyungseokie @theseustimes @the-ruler-of-death @blueberry19000 @ghostdoodlen @victxria024 @nebulousmoon3990 @bad4amficideas

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #smalltown!reader

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kirain · 7 months ago

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Sigh....Galemancers really love to move the goal post when it comes to the grooming accusations huh? You found out Gale was a fully grown MAN when Mystra slept with him so now you have to say, "Well then he was emotionally groomed and the power dynamic is too vast." Mystra is a neutral good goddess because she's Midnight, who was a neutral good human. She hates that her magic has to be used for good and evil. Ao makes her share it evenly but she'd rather not. She would never do anything to hurt Gale. The writers of the game even confirmed she's not a groomer. People like you also downplay the point of Gale's entire story arc, which is he should've listened to Mystra! The whole point of his personal quest is he needs to learn to humble himself and listen to his goddess! He has no one to blame for his downfall but himself.

There's no "post" to move, anon. The game and lore give us all the context we need. Grooming doesn't only apply to children, and people have proven right and left that Mystra is terrible at relationships. She's petty and abusive when she isn't obeyed by her partners, and that's been the case with all of her iterations. Even the narrator describes her as a "jealous goddess" when you visit her shrine. Plus, your information is wrong on many accounts; the most pertinent being that the Mystra of BG3/5E isn't technically Midnight. Cyric and Shar killed her, reducing her to her godly essence (lore-wise that means she died). The current Mystra is an amalgamation of the vestiges of Mystryl, Mystra, and Midnight, as told in the novel Elminster Enraged.

Now, this is about to get complicated, as it always does with Mystra, so from here on out I'll be referring to Mystra #1 as Mystryl, Mystra #2 as Mystra #2, Mystra #3 as Midnight, and Mystra #4 as 5E Mystra. Alright, let's get started.

Elminster had to reform the fallen goddess by giving her fragments of all three iterations of Mystra. Since all three iterations are combined, our current 5E Mystra embodies the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. There's even a conversation with The Simbul (one of the Seven Sisters and a Chosen of Mystra) where the newly reformed 5E Mystra speaks of Elminster as her "longest lover". This puzzles The Simbul because that was something of the old Mystra (Mystra #2), not Midnight. The new 5E Mystra replies that she has become a combination of the memories of Mystryl, Mystra #2, and Midnight. This is all in chapter 25-30 of Elminster Enraged. I know it's confusing, but in short: 5E Mystra is not Midnight anymore, and the leading mind is clearly that of Mystra #2, hence her extremely poor judgement—a recurring theme with her character.

Mystryl and Mystra #2 were originally lawful neutral. The alignment changed to neutral good when Midnight took up the mantle, because Midnight herself was a neutral good person. But now it seems 5E Mystra is true neutral, because you are right, anon; Ao won't allow her to do whatever she wants. Midnight tried and was forbidden. 5E Mystra absolutely does not have the same level of humanity or kindness as Midnight, and that may be because Mystryl had no human consciousness and Mystra #2 was a mess.

Regardless of her alignment, she must embody her domain by Ao's decree, which means she needs to spread magic across all Realmspace. Since she has to maintain the balance, she approaches good, neutral, and evil mages with potential opportunities. This isn't a criticism (that's just how godhood works), but rather proof that Mystra is absolutely capable of good and bad. I don't want to hear any more of this "she's a precious little bean and Gale's victim" nonsense. Even if she wants to be, she's not. As Kikitakite said in their post, she's done some fucked up things.

Whether or not the writers intended to make Mystra a groomer, that's exactly what they did. Sometimes writers don't realise they've written an abusive character until they're criticised. Take writer of The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks, for example. He didn't realise he'd written Noah to be an abusive piece of shit until Ryan Gosling pointed it out himself. Gosling has gone on record many times to say he hates Noah, and experts have labeled him an unrealistic and emotionally abusive/manipulative character. The same can be said for Stephenie Meyer, who wrote some of the most celebrated toxic relationships in recent media—with a dash of borderline pedophilia on the side. Therapists have weighed in extensively to tell people that Bella and Edward's relationship isn't healthy and shouldn't be emulated in real life. Indeed, perhaps the best thing to come out of the entire franchise is Robert Pattinson's hatred of Edward and the series as a whole. Jacob's actor, Taylor Lautner, even argued with Meyer's on set because of how weird the "imprinting" segment was and he didn't want to come off as predatory. Meyer argued it was "romantic". 😕

Even if you don't agree Gale was groomed, Mystra is flagrantly responsible for his insecurities and she never should've put her hands on him. The power dynamic is too vast, and even god Gale (conceited as he is) realises it by the end. He only stays in a relationship with Tav if they allow him to ascend them alongside him as his equal. He recognises that anything else would be unhealthy and unacceptable. Also, I researched high and low regarding your claim, but none of the devs have dispelled the idea that Mystra is a groomer. In fact, the most I could find was one dev simply saying, "To Gale it was love, but he didn't know any better." If anything, that only confirms he was confused and didn't know what to do. Their "relationship" was a stunningly horrible idea from the start and that's not on Gale, it's on the literal cosmic being who initiated it.

Moreover, Gale was very likely 17 when Mystra revealed herself to him. This perfectly fits into the 5E Forgotten Realms timeline. If so, no, he absolutely wasn't a grown man. He was a teenager. Mystra may not have slept with him until he was in his 20's, but that still makes it a disgusting teacher-turned-lover situation. Gale even tells us he was "young" when she took him into her fold, and he was only eight years old when Elminster started their lessons. Remember, Elminster is Mystra's biggest apologist. He would've taught Gale to revere her, which means there was almost never a point in his life when Mystra wasn't the main focus. You can tell by the way he speaks about her in Act 1. He's in awe, he's excited, he's proud she chose him. That does something to a child. Something irreversible. If anything, Elminster is complicit in what happened. I've said this before, but he couldn't even be bothered to visit Gale himself. He sent a simulacrum.

As for your accusation that I'm "downplaying" Gale's story arc—you're damn right I am, because the writers made me! Most D&D players I know aren't very happy with how Mystra is portrayed in the game, and that's probably because even they know she isn't presented in a very flattering light. If you really think about it, it's obvious what the writers were going for, but they failed. For example, you said Gale should've listened to Mystra, right? Well, in Act 1 he admits his ambition was his undoing, blames himself for his downfall, and by Act 2 he's literally ready to off himself for her. In fact, he's the only one who sees her ultimatum as justified. Every other companion says she's being cruel and unreasonable. If Gale actually blows himself up at the end of Act 2, the results are catastrophic. The brain is destroyed, yes, but the tadpoles, free of the Absolute's control, complete their transformation and infect/enslave the entire Sword Coast. Anon. She. Is. Stupid. Even the Narrator is like, "You wanna ... you wanna try that again?"

The entirety of Act 2 is Gale learning he shouldn't listen to Mystra. And then she has the audacity to lecture him in Act 3? If he'd listened, it would've been the end of everything. Maybe if Mystra was as infallible as she pretends to be, she would've put her three brains together and came up with a better, less vindictive plan. Because make no mistake, she wanted Gale to blow up in Act 2, which is ridiculous. I know this is an uncomfortable topic for some people, but gods aren't perfect, especially in fiction. They're flawed. They're selfish. Some of them are straight up assholes. The real irony of Gale's arc isn't that he has no one to blame but himself, it's that Mystra should blame herself. At no point does she even consider if she's being unreasonable or unfair. There's no self reflection whatsoever. And the writers expect me to think Gale's full of himself? I wonder where he got it.

Probably from his teacher. ✋🎤

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 mystra #mystra #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #elminster #bg3 tav #lore #twilight

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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 3 months ago

Text

𝚄𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚑𝚊 𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 - 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Aquarium|Enclosure; ft tail, teeth + claws, claiming|mating(heavy mentions of future claiming), knotting, kind of insinuation of Size Kink??, cunnilingus, bit of pervy!Sasuke, breeding, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 7,648

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes Human/non-human romance/sex, minimal use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Merman Sasuke Merman Sasuke Merman Sasuke Merman- get ready for some Sasuke fish dick(with a knot 😏),,, HOLY FUCK Y’all it took me over 3 weeks to finish this fucking chapter. Longest chapter thus far and probably the longest chapter in this whole damn book- My brain is fried. Istg I’m gonna be recovering from this one for d a y s.

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

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Sasuke swam to the edge of his tank and rested his arms on the edge, resting his chin on his crossed forearms, staring at his caretaker through the open separations of his shelter and the next one over. She always wore simple clothes overtop of her swimsuit which consisted of a skirt and a translucent long-sleeved crop top. She cycled through swimsuits, sometimes wearing one that showed off her midriff. Sometimes one that covered everything up to a high neck. Occasionally she would wear one that dipped deliciously low into her cleavage. Then, on special days she’d even wear a 2 piece.

Today she wore a new one. It was a new two-piece with a simple high hip bikini bottom. It had a tie-back wrap cross-style top with two straps that crisscrossed over her ribs and tied together in the back that showed off the centre underside of her breasts. As she bent down to grab the bucket of food for his neighbors, the Aquatic Water Serpents, he saw how tightly her swimsuit clung to her body.

More specifically, he saw how tightly it clung to her cunt and ass as her skirt lifted up enough it was entirely on display. He bit his lip at the sight and he felt his cock stirring in its sheath. He waited patiently, though. He’s her last stop for the day so he always gets to spend the most time with her.

He could wait. She was on her second to last stop anyhow. She scritched under the serpent’s chin and smiled at the youngling before heading off.

“Be good for Iruka, little one!” She cheerfully called back to all the hatchlings and closed the separation before heading to the one that led to the last Silvertip Shark Mer. The rest of his kind had been either poached or fallen victim to his elder brother who had been sent into a cannibalistic frenzy before he regained his sanity long enough to see what he had done and sacrificed himself to the poachers who stayed circling their cove.

The Search and Rescue facility he was currently residing in, Konoha, had found him as a pup and had taken him in. Apparently, they searched for another of his species, hoping to find a female, but couldn’t find even a sign of them. He didn’t mind, not in the slightest. So long as he could appreciate the beauty of his caretaker day after day, he was certainly happy. Of course, he would love to do more than just look at her, but he could wait. Luckily, though, it seemed he didn’t have to wait much longer from the conversation he’d overheard the night before.

The Research team that was tasked with replenishing extant species, particularly ones that they could not find viable mates, like Sasuke, had seemingly made a discovery.

‘We found something groundbreaking, Ma’am! It means that we can replenish the Silvertip Mers’ Species without needing a female Silvertip.’

‘Well, what are you waiting for, Shizune?! What did you find?’

‘It seems because Mers share nearly 50% of their DNA with humans, they can breed with Humans. Though that means it’s about a 50/50 chance if the offspring comes out as a Human or a Mer, though it seems it would be like any other Parent-to-Child Genetic Trait, one child could come out as Human but the next could be a Mer, it just depends on which DNA prevails.’

‘That’s perfect, Shizune. Now we just need to find a viable candidate. If the Silvertip mating process is anything like our other Shark Mer species, we should present multiple candidates and see if he takes a liking to any of them.’

‘Yes, Ma’am! I’ll start compiling a list right away!’

He smirked at the memory and swam to meet Y/n, his Minnow as he had donned her, at the edge of his tank. She pulled the separation closed for the evening as she entered.

“Good afternoon, Sasuke. How are you feeling today?” Y/n had her wonderful smile as she always did when she greeted him. Sasuke always liked to think that it was different from the smiles she would give to the other Mers she took care of.

“Spectacular now that you’re here,” He smirked up at her as she giggled at his flirting.

“Well, I am very happy to see you, too. I’m always glad that you’re my last stop of the day.” She smiled kindly at him and as much as he didn’t want to fully admit it, it made his heart skip a beat.

“Well, have you heard the news?” He had to stop himself from jumping on her that very moment as he spoke.

“Oh? What news, pray tell?”

“Seems they found a way to repopulate my species even though they couldn’t find a female.” A huge grin split across her face at the news and set the bucket of feed down beside her.

“Sasuke! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!!” She called, leaning down and hugging him around his shoulders.

“Believe me, not as happy as I am…” He smirked as he slid his hands around her frame to return the hug, though he made sure to place his hands down low enough to finger at the edges of her bikini bottom’s leg seams. She pulled back from the hug but his arms only shifted to stay resting around her hips. His fingers still lightly toyed with the seams and he was only spurred on by how she didn’t seem to mind.

“So, how are they gonna do it? Artificial Womb? Another species of Shark that’s compatible?” She questioned happily, innocently.

“They figured out that I can mate with and breed a human. So they’re finding me a suitable mate. It’s still a 50/50 chance, like most other kinds of genes, if it’ll be a Mer or a Human. At least that’s what they think. They don’t exactly have a bunch of research to go off of to see whose genes might be stronger. Yet, at least.” He chuckled at his implications that made her blush. “I imagine they’ll have plenty of research by the end of this, though, since as of right now, it’s my job to repopulate my whole species.” Even with his hope and excitement to finally have the opportunity to breed and possibly even claim the caretaker that he’d been watching and yearning for since day one, he let out a rueful chuckle at the reason he even had this responsibility in the first place.

The— rather oblivious— subject of his affections sent him a small, sad smile to soothe him and immediately her kindness brought him back. It reminded him why he liked her in the first place— other than her magnificent body that was practically on display for him day after day in her little swimsuits. He returned a cocky smile and leaned closer to her, his form leaned in enough that she was forced to open her legs to let him settle between them. She still didn’t seem to see anything off about the position even when Sasuke took a deep breath through his nose. He could smell her cunt so close to him and he felt the supple skin of her ass where his fingers dipped under her swimsuit.

He decided to be bold and flexed his fingers to gently knead at the flesh, wiggling his fingers deeper into her suit. Subconsciously, she moved her thighs to try and close around him, just a bit, but it was enough to spur him on.

“I have an idea of a good mate candidate, though. In fact, I’d rather like it to be her. Even if she’s not on the list, I might even request her.” He spoke with a sultry tone, lids hanging low as he let his gaze slide over her form, taking in the swell of her tits in the tight-fitting swim top, up her neck, lingering on the empty canvas of her shoulders and neck, lingering for only a moment on her lips, before meeting her eyes once again.

He was instantly taken aback by the look in her eyes. She tried to hide it but her eyes had always been unwittingly expressive. Especially to Sasuke, he could tell how she was feeling with but a glance even as she did her best to disguise it with a contrasting expression. Even with the happy smile she had on, her eyes shone with a quiet disappointment. Just moments before, before he let his gaze wander over her body, she was truly happy for him and the situation. Happy that he could rebuild his species and bring it back from the brink of extinction.

“What’s wrong, Minnow?” He asked gently, delicately rubbing his thumb over the space where her hips met her ass.

“What? Nothing! Don’t worry!” She tried to smile reassuringly but her eyes still gave her away.

“Minnow, don’t lie to me. You know that I know when you don’t tell me the truth.” His voice turned just the slightest bit stern, just to encourage her to tell the truth. And it worked, her fake smile dropped and she bit her lip nervously with a defeated sigh, averting her gaze to the edge of his tank that still had tooth-shaped dents from when he first arrived as a scared pup, nervous around humans.

“I… I dunno.. I guess I’m kinda.. I dunno, something about you liking someone…” She trailed off and muttered something under her breath that even he couldn’t catch with his impeccable hearing.

“What was that?” He leaned in, head slightly turned to bring his frilled ear closer to her.

“Someone… Someone else…” She muttered again, this time just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That I like someone else? What do you mean, Minnow?” He had immediately put it together and figured out what she meant. Elation filled his entire being at the revelation that she liked him, too. But he absolutely could not pass up a chance to tease her. It was immediately rewarding when her face flushed with heat and her facial muscles tensed in a way that indicated just how embarrassed she was.

“I-I.. Well.. I mean… It’s just that… Uhm…” She stuttered out, not able to get a single coherent sentence out. If he hadn’t absolutely loved teasing her and flustering her beyond belief, Sasuke would have been pained by the awkward sight. Taking mercy on her when it started to seem like she’d rather be anywhere but there, he put a stop to her sputtering by pushing forward and silencing her with his lips on hers.

She was stunned and frozen, eyes wide and calculating. He pulled back and looked at her with an amused smirk, a brow quirked as if silently asking ‘Do you get it now?’ She remained frozen for a moment, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“I-I… What? But… what about who you li-?” He cut her off with a flick to the forehead and a scoff whilst she yelped at the sudden feeling.

“Dummy. I was talking about you.” Sasuke said with an eye roll, still quite amused at her oblivion. Her eyes widened with the revelation and lit up with joy. Before he could tease her again, she launched forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a deep kiss as she was too stunned to return the first one. With the sudden movement, Sasuke was forced to pull his hands away from her ass to stabilize them before she fell into his tank with the force that she shot forward. He wrapped a strong arm around her middle and grabbed onto the edge of the platform to hold them in place.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm and hummed against her lips as he hoisted her back onto the edge where she was sat. Eventually, she had to pull away for air but kept her arms around him and their foreheads nearly rested against each other.

“So… What do you say, Minnow?” He asked with a husky purr in his voice. Her eyes were glued to his lips, a haze around her mind after a kiss like that.

“Wha..?” He smirked teasingly at her and lifted his hand from around her to lightly grip her chin. Forcing her to look at him, she finally seemed to return to the moment, though she still looked vaguely confused.

“About the scientists’ little discovery?” He reminded her, his Minnow’s eyes lit up with recognition before her cheeks flushed with searing heat.

“I- uhm.. I really.. really like the sound of it…” Her blush somehow increased as her voice trailed off, though he heard her just fine. His sharp teeth peak out when he grins wolfishly at her.

“Well, then. Since I’ve already decided who I want my partner to be, might as well get started, right?” His words were husky with veiled excitement and sent a shiver down her spine, but she still managed to nod bashfully. She quickly glanced back at the separation to make sure it was closed before she carefully scooted towards the edge, making sure that she wouldn’t fall in. Willingly and consciously, she opened her legs even more, a clear invitation. Happy with her compliance, he hoisted himself up and slotted where his fleshy upper half met his scaly tail against her hips with his face just an inch or two above hers.

Without wasting a second, he dipped down to capture her lips again as he ground his genital slit against her awaiting, though clothed, sex. Shifting his weight onto one hand, he moved his other to the hem of her swimsuit bottoms just next to her wet pussy. His clawed fingers teased at the edge, never quite dipping in. He positioned his hand to fan his four fingers over the top of the inside of her thigh, his thumb at the hem. The tip of his finger, careful of his claw, lightly traced the sensitive skin just under it, teasing her even more. She whined into his mouth and just as he began the motion to give in and slide his thumb under the fabric and reach her weeping little cunt, the separation loudly slid open, announcing the arrival of someone else.

The two pulled apart in a panic, though the damage was already done. Whoever had walked in had caught them, though even if they hadn’t, the flushed faces and the way her thighs clamped together like a steel trap would have given them away.

“Well!” Tsunade declared with a single loud clap of her hands. “That makes things easier!” She approached the edge of the pool, pointedly ignoring that she had almost caught the two in the middle of his fingers buried in her cunt had she walked in even a minute later. “Sasuke, I have news for you. We found a way that you can-” She began, about to go on a long-winded speech about their discovery.

“Save my species. Yea. You and your assistant aren’t exactly the most quiet, y’know.” Sasuke cut her off and grumbled, clearly less than pleased that he had been interrupted. Tsunade looked surprised for only a moment before her mind caught up with the events. Sasuke knew about the discovery— that he could breed a human— and he had clearly chosen his future mate and he was ready to get started with the whole process. Perfect.

“Well! In that case, it would be in the best interest of the Research Team to watch you in the act, to help with future cases like this one, and to learn more about your species.” She explained, not leaving room for debate. Great. First, they got interrupted, now they have to wait for those Science Nerds to show up, and they’ll have an audience. Well, That last one Sasuke didn’t mind as much. He could show off that his little Minnow was his. They could watch as he bred her good and full, stuffing her with his cum and plugging her up with his knot to make sure that it took. To make sure that she’d be full with his offspring.

To his— and his Minnow’s— pleasure, it didn’t take too long for the rest of the Research Team to show up. At first, it made her flustered and shy but she was quickly distracted when Sasuke pulled himself back up between her thighs, level with her face.

“Don’t worry about them, ‘kay? Just focus on me. Focus on how I’m gonna breed you full…” His husky voice growled, nosing at the underside of her jaw. He nipped lightly at the skin there and reveled in the tremor it sent through her, even moreso the sweet gasped little moan she rewarded him with.

She nodded and turned her head towards him to recapture his lips. With a pleased rumble, he intertwined their tongues and nipped at her bottom lip with his sharp teeth. His Minnow hummed into the kiss and wrapped her legs around his hips. Gladly, he began grinding against her and appreciated the slickness that was dampening her swimsuit bottoms and soaking through onto his genital slit. They felt the eyes of the Research Team but chose to focus on each other instead. At least, she did. Sasuke kept an acute awareness of them watching them, watching him take what he wanted, what he had been wanting for months.

He reveled in her little moans that he captured with his lips, muffling her even more with his tongue invading further into her mouth. He shifted his weight onto one arm again and quickly moved back to the position he had been in when Tsunade walked in. His fingers toyed at the edge of her swimsuit then switched directions to rub his fingertips over the growing wet spot on the fabric, coating his fingers and claws in her slickness. He hummed against her neck and nibbled the skin to leave a mark on her skin. Gods, he wanted to mark her so badly. Wanted to claim her and make her his forever after but he supposed that would have to wait until after he bred her full.

That was a very efficient claim in its own right. Her moans flowed freely into the air as she tossed her head back and gave him more space to mark up and lave over with his long, rough tongue. He couldn’t wait anymore, he decided, and shifted his hand to the edge of her bottoms again, deftly wiggling under the seam and reaching her bare cunt. She let out a squeak at the sudden, though very much not unwelcome, intrusion, his fingers directly stimulating the sensitive skin.

“Sa-Sasuke…” She whimpered, suddenly aware of how empty she felt, her wet hole spasming around nothing.

“My good little Minnow…” He hummed and pressed kisses down the column of her throat until he reached the top of her translucent coverup. He quietly growled at the layer of separation and reluctantly pulled his hand away from her dripping cunt to rip through the thin material with his claws, eliciting a gasp from his girl. He didn’t pay attention to the little pout she sent him, though he did silently appreciate it, making a mental note to make her do it again.

Quickly enough, he hesitated for only a moment about tearing her bathing suit since it made her tits look so pretty. He compromised with himself to tug at the crisscross straps showing off her cleavage first, watching the way it shifted her breasts and made them jiggle when he released it. He tugged the fabric down over her tit slightly and shifted his hold to cup her breast and manually pull it out the rest of the way, seeing the way her nipple stiffened in the cold air. Only then, after appreciating the sight and locking it in place in his memory, did he hook his clawed finger into the strap once again and snapped it easily enough, letting it unravel until it hung loosely around her neck, the bottom half falling to the ground behind her back with her coverup top.

“Sasuke!” She yelped, “I could have just untied it you know!” She huffed, making him chuckle at her.

“But where’s the fun in that, Minnow?” He teased, cutting off any more complaints by dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth, swirling his long tongue around the hardened bud.

“Should we prompt him to get to the actual mating? Or-” A member of the Research Team spoke up, sounding flustered at just watching the foreplay.

“No. Let it happen naturally, we would only rush the process if it was detrimental to getting it done as quickly as possible. That would be more likely with a female specimen since most species’ females have only a short fertile period. Males are usually constantly fertile unless they lose potency with old age, but with Sasuke, we clearly don’t have to worry about that. Leave him be.” Shizune reprimanded him, cutting him off sharply and trying to keep her voice down to prevent disturbing Sasuke.

He appreciated the thought but couldn’t resist the eye roll at their discussion, talking like he wasn’t even actually there. He must have accidentally released an unconscious growl because his sweet little Minnow reached her arms up to hold him, tangling her fingers into his hair, encouraging him to switch his attention fully on her again. He sent a grateful look up to her and pressed a soft kiss to her breast before he lowered himself further into the water, moving his hands to hold both of her thighs.

At first, she was confused until he pushed her skirt further up to her hips and tugged at the waistband of her suit bottoms, generously offering her to not rip them to shreds. She let out a breathy chuckle and leaned back on her hands to lift her hips for him. Before he pulled them off, he pressed a kiss to her clothed core, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine. She whimpered when he pulled away, taking her bottoms with her, exposing her dripping cunt to the cold evening air.

He smirked at her reaction and didn’t give her time to readjust before he dove in and shoved his face between her thighs. He lapped at her cunt hungrily and sucked headily on her clit. Immediately, the sensations had her squirming and whining, her hands buried in his hair, unsure if she wanted to push him closer or tug him away from the immense pleasure almost immediately overwhelming her senses. Sasuke hummed appreciatively at the taste of his little Minnow. She really lived up to her name with the way he was devouring her. The slurping sounds resounded all around the shelter around his pool and filled the ears of his good little Minnow, Tsunade, Shizune, and the rest of the Research Team. Most of them shifted in their seats, unsure if they were aroused or envious. A mix of both, they decided.

Letting up on the suction on her clit, he dipped his head down to wiggle his tongue into her, squirming against all the sensitive spots in her cunt. He replaced the stimulation on her clit with his thumb, pressing on it and rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensations overwhelming her cunt before she could even adjust to the temperature had cries of pleasure soaring out of her throat into the air. When his tongue shifted in just the right way, in just the right spots and his thumb teasing her clit with just the right pressure, she couldn’t hold back the scream of ecstasy or the sharp tug of his long hair as she creamed around his tongue, her juices flowing into his mouth as he kept up his movements. He moaned against her and happily swallowed her liquid pleasure.

He kept lapping at her cunt until she was practically sobbing and pulling at his hair to escape the overstimulation. Granting her mercy, he finally pulled away and pressed an apologetic kiss to her inner thigh, though she could tell he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. She panted to regain her breath from the way her powerful orgasm pulled the air from her lungs. In a soothing motion, Sasuke gently pulled himself up and pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat, stroking over her thigh until she could breathe regularly again. Then, with a deep kiss full of tongue and teeth and passion, he slotted his hips against hers with his member free.

The slick appendage wiggled in the cool evening air in search of warmth to bury itself in. She hummed into his mouth when the narrowed tip stroked over her glistening pussy lips. She was still sensitive from the orgasm he’d wrenched from her but the want to be filled up overpowered the overwhelm of it. Sasuke smirked against her lips and separated their kiss with a trail down to her jaw, then to her neck, then to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The empty plot of skin was so tantalizing and his teeth ached with the want- the need to sink his teeth into her and fully claim her. Mark her as his.

That’ll have to wait, he reminded himself. Now’s not the time to focus on that. Now is the time to breed her greedy little pussy. Fill her up with pups and keep on filling her up, over and over again. She’s a good little girl, so eager for being knotted and bred. She’ll be an even better little mate, he encouraged himself in his mind to wait just a little longer. Just a bit longer and she’d be his good little mate. First, he had to thoroughly breed her tight little cunt. With that thought in mind, he pushed forward, pressing his length closer to her entrance. His long, slimy tongue laved over her skin as he nibbled and sucked on the skin to leave little marks that would satisfy his urge to claim her for now.

“Fu-u-uck, Sasuke..!” She called, circling her hips to try and coax his cock into her. When it didn’t work at first, she wrapped her legs around his form and pulled him closer, her one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other working with his to hold them steadily on the edge to not fall in. His other hand still kneaded at her thigh and precisely dug his thumb into the flesh to coax it more open to her pretty little pussy.

“Don’t worry, Minnow, I’ve got you.” He muttered against her flesh before he pulled back to rest his forehead against her shoulder to look down at where they would soon be connected. Looking past her tantalizing tits, he watched as his member squirmed against her, sliding through her folds in search of her greedy hole. Finally, it caught on the edge of the convulsing muscles and immediately began slithering in. The Research Team all jolted to lean forward when she sharply inhaled a gasp. The guy from before seemed the most interested. He was leaned forward the most and his gaze was heavy. The way he stared so intently made a fire burn in Sasuke. It was a mix of jealousy and pride, though it was more cockiness than pride, really.

It infuriated him that someone would look that intently at his mate, especially when she was so vulnerable. So exposed. His instincts yelled at him to cover her whole body with his own, even pull her into the water away from prying eyes but logic, thankfully, won out knowing that it would be dangerous as his little Minnow, despite her nickname couldn’t breathe underwater. Yet, he reminded himself, once she was good and full with his pups and claimed, her body would undergo changes to properly care for the pups for the chances that it was a mer. The cockiness reinforced his reasoning, as well. The cockiness that cried out in pride that she was his mate. That the bastard could look all he wanted but his good little Minnow was his to touch. His to hold. His to pleasure and enjoy.

Nonetheless, the mer lowly growled from where his head rested on his little mate’s shoulder, side-eyeing a glare at the man with a cocky smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth. The hand around his shoulders slid up to his hair and gently carded through it, soothing him back to the moment where he was about to fuck her senseless. Almost immediately, a low rumbling emanated from his chest, it was almost like a purr. With a shocked giggle bubbling from his Minnow’s throat, Sasuke quickly diverted her thoughts to her throbbing core once again when he quickly canted his hips into hers.

The gasp she let out was rewarding and had him rumbling deeply in satisfaction. He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there for a moment to let her adjust. He knew he was larger than most human males— a fact that filled him with pride— and that his phallus was greatly different from them, shape, texture, and mobility-wise. His cock squirmed inside her, satisfied with the heat, and moved in search of her pleasure spots. His instincts led him to wanting to pleasure his partner just as much, if not more, than the pleasure he received. His instincts knew that if his partner orgasmed it heightened the chances of his seed taking. As if he needed any help. His species’ seed was very potent and his thick, firm knot would keep his mate plugged up to ensure that none of his seed leaked and lessened the chances of impregnation, even if only by a fraction. With the stream of sharp, almost surprised moans and gasps coming from his mate, he could tell his phallus was doing its job.

“F-fuck- Sasuke- Sasuke, please~!” She whined, burying her hand firmly in his locks, though not tugging. Her incoherent plea was enough for him to comply and rest enough weight on the hand planted on the firm round behind her to easily use his other hand, wrapped around her hip with a tight grip, to move his hips back. The water rippled behind him and splashed quickly up against the corner wall of his pool and hitting the backs of her thighs and the top of his tail as he snapped his hips forward again. He did this a few more times, slowly pulling out until only his wriggling tip stayed inside her wet heat and thrusting his hips forward quickly and powerfully. He tried to keep up the teasing pace but he couldn’t take it anymore.

He needed to breed her. Breed her tight little pussy. Fill her up with cum and make her belly swell with his young. With surprising speed, he set a bruising pace and filled her clenching walls with his wriggling cock over and over again. He could hear the Research Team mumbling amongst themselves, comparing notes or some shit that he couldn’t bring himself to care about but the noise itself was enough to ignite his possessiveness. The hand planted on the ground clenched and scratched at the cement. His sharp claws dug into the hard surface and scraped deep lines into it, taking the rubble with it. His other hand gripped tighter and ended up ripping her skirt where it rested around her hips. He paid little mind to it— as did his good girl— and simply kept up with his pace, though he vaguely recognized that the material was essentially unsalvageable with tearing it so much whilst it was bunched up the way it was. With a growl and a fire lit in his eyes, he smashed his lips against his Minnow’s and claimed her mouth all over again. His tongue delved deep enough to almost choke her. She didn’t gag but her throat lightly convulsed against the foreign feeling before he pulled the appendage back. He only wanted it to be pleasurable for her. No discomfort.

His hips kept up the heavy pace as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. Pulling back from her lips, a thick strand of saliva kept them connected before he leaned back in and licked it away from her kiss-swollen bottom lip. As if on pure instinct, he immediately shifted to her neck and left bites and hickeys on the side he hadn’t yet marked up. All the while, he never relented on his pace, water splashing around him and creating small waves into the rest of the vast water at his back. His member continued to squirm inside her, aiming for each and every one of her pleasure spots and slipping easily into all the nooks and crannies of her inner velvety walls.

Her voice trembled as she cried out in pleasure and shifted her hips to meet his thrusts, subsequently forcing his cock deeper inside her. The pointed tip was forced all the way to her cervix. The wriggling pointed head met her cervix directly, immediately beginning a venture to enter the deepest part of her. Sasuke and Y/n both let out groans of pleasure at the feeling, hers more a surprised noise quickly transformed into a drawn-out whine of bliss while his was one of pure ecstasy at the feeling of claiming his Minnow so deeply. So deep inside her that no one would ever be able to claim her as he had. Not that anyone else would ever get the opportunity to try. No, she was his mate. And he would ensure that her body knew that by thoroughly breeding her over and over again. She would not be without pup for long, breeding her to her heart’s content.

Without much reprieve, Sasuke returned to his brutal pace, jackhammering his hips into hers as he buried his face in her neck. His claws dug heavily into the pavement, cracking it even more with his strength and his other hand kept a bruising grip on her hip, not that she minded the marks it would leave behind. His marks. Her walls fluttered around his cock as he mercilessly pounded into her. Her moans echoed around the walls and went higher in pitch when the cord in her belly was pulled taut again.

“Sasuke- Fuck- Please!” She whined and bucked her hips. The Research Team, from their positions leaning forward to see the pair better, could see his muscles contracting and his hands gripped tighter— though he remained aware and careful with his hold on her flesh. They could tell he was rapidly approaching his climax and they were all on the edge of their seats— literally and figuratively— to see it. His thrusts slowly became sloppier and his grunts and growls became more frequent, his nips at her neck did, too.

What the scientists couldn’t see and his little Minnow hadn’t noticed was the swelling bulge at the base of his wriggling cock. It was stiffer than the rest of his member and steadily grew in size and mass. As his thrusts gained more reckless force and speed it began to catch on the edge of her hole. That made her notice. When she felt the bulging knot catch on her hole a louder moan ripped from her throat. The wide eyes of the Research Team snapped to her and watched her come undone. Her back arched, her toes curled, her nails dug into his shoulder and scratched angsty red lines into the skin, her mouth hung open in a silent scream as she gushed around his member. The convulsing and contracting of her walls around him had Sasuke closer to his own end.

His knot swelled to full size and with a final rough thrust, it pressed hard against her gushing little cunt before it popped inside her. Another wave of ecstasy rushed through her and sent her into another wave of orgasm before her last one even finished. A loud, high-pitched cry escaped into the room and practically vibrated the walls. Her orgasm’s ecstasy lasted for what felt like forever as his white hot seed shot into her. His narrow tip had wiggled past her cervix and sent his cum directly into her womb. His potent seed filled her up and filled her lower belly with delicious warmth that kept her in a state of blissed-out pleasure. She shivered in her fucked out haze as Sasuke filled her up with spurt after spurt of spunk.

“You did so good, Minnow. My good girl, took my cum so fuckin’ well. Gonna be such a good momma.” He purred in her ear, licking the spot just under it.

“Is it done? Did he do it?” The guy spoke lowly to the rest of the Research Team and Y/n and Sasuke barely resisted the urge to roll their eyes.

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say yes.” Tsunade said sarcastically. Sasuke licked at the bites and dark hickeys on his Minnow’s neck and shoulder to soothe any aches and to help the deeper ones heal faster. His member pulsated inside her as he recovered from his powerful orgasm. He had touched himself before to the thought of her but he never could have anticipated just how good she felt around him. He felt like he was in Heaven with her so tightly wrapped around him. Her heat clenching around his cock so snugly.

In the afterglow of their orgasms, Sasuke felt his arm getting tired from holding himself up and his tail aching from exhaustion from thrusting inside his little mate while keeping himself from falling back into the pool. Carefully, he maneuvered her in his hold to gently pull her into the water with him, though making sure they didn’t go under. Her grip on him tightened and her other arm shot to wrap around his shoulders making him chuckle. The deep sound sent a shiver down her spine and a blush to her cheeks as well as a vibration through her body from where their chests were pressed together. As an afterthought, Sasuke quickly discarded the ruined fabric of her skirt to the edge of the tank before he continued on with his movements with her.

“Don’t worry, Minnow.” He cooed to her as he moved to float on the water with her on his chest, slightly swishing his tail to keep them afloat. “I won’t let you fall in. Promise.” He nosed at her temple and pressed a kiss there.

“How do you feel?” Tsunade asked, addressing his little Mate.

“Full. Warm.” She spoke dazedly, snuggling into his chest comfortably.

“Good. From the looks of it, you should be pregnant in no time. We’ll monitor your progress and stats to make sure everything is all good and we’ll set up on-site lodgings for you. Let us know as soon as you find out when you’re pregnant. Since we observed this time, we technically don’t have to observe more of the breeding and mating but if it didn’t take this time, I’d like to observe your next session just to see if there are any differences, if that's okay with you. And, I’d like to ask, is there anything that we didn’t see that happened?” Tsunade inquired, eyes flicking between the couple and her notepad.

“Well.. Right now, we’re stuck.” Sasuke’s little Mate spoke softly, almost unsure.

“‘Stuck’? What do you mean?” Shizune asked, incredibly intrigued.

“I knotted her. We’re tied together until it goes down.” Sasuke spoke up, his voice slightly annoyed like he wanted this to be over and to have time alone with his good little Minnow.

“So you’re species has a knot! Interesting!” She spoke excitedly and quickly scribbled it down in her notepad. Sasuke huffed and nuzzled into his Mate’s hair and inhaled her scent. Her scent, enhanced by the vigorous physical activity and it sent a fuzzy pleasurable haze to his brain that had his chest rumbling with a purr.

“Well, I don’t believe there’s anything else we need to observe, so let’s all head out and leave the couple be. And yes, that means everyone.” Tsunade spoke, adding sharply at the end as her harsh gaze landed on the guy that had been far too invested with the view. Sasuke, glad that the woman had realized their want for privacy, let out a small, quiet sigh of relief and watched them all file out. He glared and bared his teeth at the guy who insisted on leaving last and walked slowly to glance back at them. When he saw the Mer’s expression, he quickly filed out with the others. The raven-haired Mer stroked over his Mate’s bare back and soothed her hip where his grip had surely planted bruises.

“Gonna be such a good momma to our pups. Such a good mate. So so good.” He cooed at her and planted kisses on her face before landing on her lips. It was sweet compared to the rough, lustful, and debauched kisses from not long ago. His cock remained buried inside her with his knot plugging her up to keep his hot cum, his potent seed inside, to make sure she was properly and thoroughly bred. She hummed happily against his lips and relaxed against him as he slowly guided them to the small island trainers coaxed him onto during shows where they could simply rest.

Once they were settled, it didn’t take long for them to drift off, pleasurable heat warming them both and lulling them into a comfortable state. His knot remained full whilst they drifted and stayed as such for a while after they fell asleep. His member easily slipped out of her and back into his sheath once his knot softened enough. They stayed comfortably cuddled together until morning when the sound of the separation sliding open echoed in the otherwise silent area. In walked Shizune with a towel, clothes, and a kind smile as she approached the edge of the pool.

“Good morning. I know your clothes were, unfortunately, damaged,” she sent a teasing look at Sasuke who blushed and looked away with a small ‘hmph’, “so I thought I’d bring you a change of clothes. I’d also like to give you a small physical check-up after last night to make sure everything is all good and dandy. Afterwards, I have breakfast inside for you.” The kind woman spoke gently with a soft gaze.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Shizune! I really appreciate it.” Y/n smiled at her and looked back at Sasuke to silently communicate if it was okay for her to leave for a bit. He wasn’t quite pleased with it but he knew it was more than reasonable. To show his understanding he leaned up and captured her lips sweetly as his hands softly ran over the skin of her back and sides. Carefully, she lifted herself off of him, slightly wincing at the soreness in her hips and between her thighs. Instantly, he moved and held onto her firmly as he maneuvered them both further into the water to swim her back to the edge. Kissing him in silent thanks, she climbed out and accepted the towel with a smile at Shizune.

“See you in a bit, Minnow,” Sasuke said, he rested his chin on his crossed arm on the edge and looked up at her, admiring the view of her naked body. He was so used to staring at her in her cute little swimsuits and just imagining what she would look like without the coverage and actually seeing it was so much better than anything he could have imagined. The planes and curves of her body were so enticing that he knew he would never get tired of seeing her bare like that. Seeing her stomach as she dropped the towel to put on the clothes Shizune brought, he couldn’t wait to see it swell his child, to have physical evidence that she’s his.

“See you soon, love.” She cooed back at him as she pulled the shirt over her head after she buttoned the skirt closed. His whole face perked up at the nickname and he couldn’t stop the purr that erupted from his chest. Chuckling, she kneeled down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before she stood to leave.

Exiting the shelter, she saw that the separation to the Aquatic Water Serpents was open while the morning crew did their rounds and fed the Mers, and performed check-ups if necessary. The younglings were occupied with the feeders and if any of them needed check-ups while Iruka was freely resting in the tank. When he saw her and Shizune passing by he quickly made his way to the edge to get to them.

“Hey.” He got their attention with a hiss, though remained quiet enough to not attract the attention of the younglings, “You’re lucky the younglings were already asleep down in the cove with how loud you were being.” He hissed out with a slight glare with no real heat behind it. Instantly, her face erupted with heat as her eyes widened in mortification. With a shrill whine of embarrassment, she buried her face in her hand with a muffled apology to the serpent. With Sasuke’s separation left open for the morning crew, he heard Iruka’s words and smirked. He was suddenly smug like he had never been before. A cockiness filled his chest as he reveled in the knowledge that he had made his Mate feel so good that she was loud enough to be heard through the walls. Instantly, he made the decision to ensure that he always made her feel that good.

He’d have her screaming his name every time.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

#cw exhibitionism #cw public sex #tw exhibitionism #tw public sex #merman x reader #merfolk #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #uchiha sasuke x reader #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto smut #naruto shippuden smut #fem!reader #afab reader #spiderlily spells

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month ago

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Chapter 16: I Thought I Was In Love Before

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), IMPLIED SEX, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Heavy Petting? Making Out, Nudity, Illusions to Sex, A little bit of self-deprecating thought. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read🪴: "I've Been Waiting For You" by ABBA

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A/N: This chapter is really just a whole lot of fluff and a bit of cheeky spice, that I couldn't help but write. I figured the two of them really needed just a chapter where someone wasn't being tortured, someone almost died, someone was hurt, or them fighting lol. ENJOY!

There were more flowers in your entire apartment than in New York City on Valentine's Day, and you were sure that come morning there would be more flowers in here than what grew on the East Coast in the middle of spring.

Roses exploded from the bush in the corner splashing pinks and coral petals onto the floor, Lily of the valley dipped from outstretched stalks, honeysuckle, lavender, and lilac smiled from the pots on top of your dresser, and the gardenia on your bedside table filled the room with the sweet-smelling aroma. Even the pothos vines that trailed along your walls were brighter and greener, creeping along to secure your curtains while the Jasmine vines that crept up the wall behind your bed shed the white blooms over where Ben and you were laying.

You were sure that you had Jasmine smashed against your skin and threaded in your hair, but you weren't complaining. There was nothing to complain about, not if every time Ben took you to bed was anything like what had happened over the past four hours.

The number of men you'd slept with was in no way extensive, you could count it on one hand, which meant you weren't drawing from a wide range of experiences, not to mention that it had been probably over a year since you'd slept with someone, but Ben easily blew them out of the water.

Usually after you were with someone, you'd compare them to Newton, only because it was the longest relationship that you'd had and really the only guy you'd ever loved. When you'd finally slept with Newton, you'd thought that because you loved each other the sex was supposed to be good… but each time you were disappointed.

You could remember every awkward fumble of Newton's hands on your chest, every slobbery kiss, every time he said that he was "too tired" to return the favor, and every single time you felt unsatisfied while he turned over happy and drifted off while you tried to think of a way to muster up the courage to tell him that you wanted to try something new or at least tell him that you weren't happy.

Not being happy with Newton seemed to be a recurring theme and you didn’t know why you’d stayed with him as long as you did. Perhaps it was because you thought that it was true love, just as Ben stayed with Countess because he thought that was what love was like.

Turns out the two of you had just been waiting to find each other, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Nothing about the way Ben touched you was awkward or hesitant, it was confident, practiced, and just rough enough to give you a glimpse of how strong he really was. The way he kissed you was all consuming, as if he wanted to drink you in, swallow you whole until there was nothing left of you, as if he couldn't help himself but crash into you.

And Ben refused to let you touch him, until after he'd made you fall apart more times than you could count, whimpering, gasping, and screaming his name into the warm air of your bedroom with your hands tangled in his dark hair.

Not to mention you'd never get tired of the moans and breathy groans of your name on his lips. It made you feel powerful seeing Ben that way and hearing him say your name like that. Knowing that you were able to do that to him, to make him feel good the same way that he made you feel like you'd transcended to another plane of human existence. And you didn't think that you'd be able to stop anytime soon.

It was enough to make you regret making him wait for as long as you did. Maybe a part of you thought Ben was all talk, that there was no way that he was as good as he said he was, but you didn't expect Ben to know exactly what you needed as if he could see inside your head. And even though Ben said he wasn't gentle and didn't think that he could "make love" to you, what he just did for four hours came close.

Because he had unmade you, destroyed you, and then the shattered remains that pieced back together after he took you apart cell by cell was filled with so much love and ecstasy that you didn’t know where it all came from.

You'd never felt this way about anyone else in your entire life. Just as Ben thought he'd loved Countess, you thought that you loved Newton, but the way you felt about Ben was nothing compared to how you felt about your ex.

You weren't sure if you'd ever feel this way about anyone else ever. At the back of your mind the realization that you could potentially live as long as Ben did was hovering there and the truth was that you could see yourself spending all that time with Ben. You could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. He was the only one you wanted and you hated how long it took you to admit it to yourself.

But there was a little twinge of something deep down that worried you Ben couldn't commit 100%, and then Ben would do something uncharacteristically soft and it would make you believe whole heartedly that he could.

And even if Ben couldn’t say that he loved you the traditional way, you knew he did. You saw it in the way he held you, saw it in the way he brought you coffee, saw it in the way he walked with you to and from work, and you saw it in the way he cared for you.

There weren't any casualties tonight, except the shower curtain and the rod. The shower had been a good idea in theory to cool off and clean up, until you grabbed the shower curtain and ripped the rod from the wall when Ben twisted his hips in a way that made you see stars.

You suppose that you had instigated it, after you laughed at Ben's inability to fit in your shower, and Ben took it as a challenge, but your plants had been spared.

And you were happy that your headboard had survived, it was antique, and you loved it, but there were a set of divots in the drywall behind the bed that made you hope that Mike wasn’t home and had witnessed what had caused them.

Though you had a sneaking suspicion that Ben had done that on purpose. It wasn't a secret to you how possessive and jealous Ben was, especially not after the way you'd seen him act around Jake. It was a trait that you'd never found attractive until you met him.

But there was something about the Ben’s jealousy and his almost primal need to claim you in every way he knew how that made you want him even more.

You hear Ben mutter your name faintly, breaking through your internal monologue.

You weren't up for moving now, your heart was thunderous against your rib cage, your limbs felt like jelly, and there was a layer of sweat coating your skin. You were laying on your back in your bed where the two of you had ended up, staring up at the ceiling in your bedroom trying to catch your breath, with the sheets and blankets tangled and thrown haphazardly off the sides at your feet.

And despite everything you thought about Ben, you never expected him to want to be close after sex, but he was laying on his side beside you, looking at you with a worried expression. His hand probes along your right wrist to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You breathe because you can't seem to form words at the moment.

"You doing okay there Petals?" Ben looks smug, but you can hear worry slip into his voice.

It made you smile to yourself, because as rough and prickly as Ben's outer exterior was, you knew how much he cared about you even if he was unwilling to admit it aloud.

You take in a deep breath to find your voice and calm your heart. “Are you asking if you broke me with your dick? Or if you killed me with the almost Olympic level sex?”

Ben chuckles, propping himself up so he could stare down at you, his dark hair is falling forward over his forehead, and he's studying you with his green eyes.

He looks handsome. Ben always did, but here in bed with you, he looked normal, happy, and content. After the shower, his hair no longer had all the product that had been in it for the event at Vought, and after how many times you'd run your fingers through it, it was more tousled and scrunched than usual, but you loved it. He looked more like him again, not like the man that Vought had dressed up for the event. He looked like the man you'd fallen in love with.

You wondered if Ben noticed and liked that you looked more like you now, well, you as if you'd run ten miles. You were sure that your hair was a mess tangled and matted against the pillows, your cheeks flushed, and covered in sweat.

How the fuck can he look so good after doing that for four hours? Its unfair. I probably look like I've spent the past four hours trapped in a tornado while Ben looks like he's ready for a photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

"Because I never wanted to go to the Olympics, but I wouldn't mind going with you every once and a while." You cough out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Only once in a while?" Ben smirks. "Because you sounded like you'd be okay going every night not to mention it sure looks like you wouldn't mind going." He gestures to the blooms strewn around the room, before pulling one of the small, white fragrant flowers from your hair.

"Shut up."

Ben only laughs at you, flicking the flower away . "We can go whenever you want." He trails his fingertips against your cheek, brushing back some of the hair that was stuck to the flushed skin. “But you're okay? Sometimes I lose control-.”

“Some women like that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rolls his eyes at you and the hand that pushed your hair away cups your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben's voice is soft and serious, his brilliant green eyes searching your face and then trailing down your naked body to look for injuries that you don't have.

Sure, you were a little bit sore, but it was a good sore, something that you wouldn't mind feeling all the time. The kind of sore that was satisfying to wake up to.

“Well when we first met-“ You begin to say, remembering when Ben had you by the throat and was preparing to rip you in half when he changed his mind and threw you across the room the day Homelander went on ice.

It was an odd first meeting and given how much Ben and you argued it seemed fitting that the two of you met how all great loves should, mid-fight.

You’d always wondered why Ben didn’t just kill you when he had the chance. It would have been one less headache for him to face that day. You remember looking into his eyes and seeing the anger and rage within, feeling just a feeling a shiver of fear skate down your spine when you realized it might be the last thing you ever do. It was honestly the only time that you'd ever been afraid of him. Pushing Annie out of the way had been worth it, knowing that you saved your best friend's life made your sacrifice worth it, but Ben hadn't killed you.

Ben swallows your next words, his lips moving fervently against your mouth, rough, with just a tickle of his beard against your cheeks. Honestly, your lips were already swollen and a little bruised, not to mention you had beard burn in a few places, but you weren't complaining and like hell you were going to stop doing something that felt so good.

“Don’t fucking bring that up again. I hate that I hurt you.” Ben winces when he admits it, but his hand gently traces the gentle curve of your throat, a frown gracing his perfect lips as if he can imagine the bruised handprint you had for weeks later.

You'd caught him looking at the mark sometimes whenever you were on mission in those weeks together, but despite how the two of you had met, you weren't afraid of Ben. Sure, he had tried to kill you, but you'd done the same thing, so you'd figured the two of you were even. Plus, Ben annoyed you more than he scared you, and you didn't believe for one second that Ben would hurt you on purpose.

Ben might have been rough, but you didn't believe that he would ever find pleasure in hurting you or that he would beat you into submission if you pissed him off.

“It’s our history Ben.” You smile raising your hand to push his hair back, brushing your thumb over his cheek in a gesture that makes his lean subconsciously into your touch. “You can’t change it."

He frowns with a sigh, the green of his eyes lightening in the light from your bedside table lamp.

"Why didn't you kill me that day?" You whisper. "You didn't know me-"

Ben's expression turns to something that almost looks like shame for a moment, before it hardens. "You didn't belong there."

"Where?"

"In all that shit. I could see it in your eyes. I-" His jaw tightens. "I'd never seen someone like you before."

"Like me? Is this when you go back to insulting me again?" You snort.

"No. I-" He bites back his next words. "I've met other supes before, the ones that you said act like gods, the ones like my bastard son but you were-.” Ben huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don't fucking know you were just different, and I didn't want to-" Ben looks conflicted as if he can't find what to say.

Although you usually found Ben’s awkwardness in conversations when they got too personal cute, a part of you broke for him. You wondered if he’d been like that his whole life. If Ben had lived in a world, where he couldn’t open to anyone without an internal monologue from an unseen entity telling him that he was being a “pussy.” You remembered what your grandmother said about Ben’s father, and it only made your heart break more for him.

You made a promise to yourself right then and there that even if it took decades you were going to make Ben comfortable telling you what he was really feeling and thinking. You wanted Ben to know that it didn't make him weak to express emotion that way, that you thought it didn't make him less of a man to talk to you.

Your hand slips from his cheek trailing to curve around the back of his head, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him, pouring as much emotion as you can into it. "It's okay." You murmur against his lips with a small smile. "I understand."

"You do?" He looks surprised.

"Yes.” You nod, trailing your fingertips in his hair. “No one else has ever said that to me or cared to notice. I think I wanted to be a part of that world because of Annie, to be closer to her, but I don’t belong in it. Even after everything that happened with Elijah and Darren-”

“No, you don’t.” Ben doesn’t say it cruelly or with disdain or in a way to belittle you, instead he says it with a sigh, his hand finding your hip, trailing his thumb over the curve of your pelvis. "I want better for you than this."

"This?"

"You working for Butcher, working fifty jobs, coming back to this shitty apartment-"

You lock your arms around the back of his neck with a laugh. "We talked about this, I like our apartment."

Ben's entire body freezes where he's laying next to you, the thumb that was circling your pelvis coming to a halt. "You said our."

"Yes I did." You smile up at him, seeing the way his green eyes have brightened with the word. "The shitty apartment is half yours now."

"What a dream come true." Ben rolls his eyes. "At least at Vought it would have been quieter-"

"I think that Mike's screeching adds to the ambiance." You joke, loving the way his hair falls between your fingers and how Ben seems to lean into your touch before he can stop himself, that he reacts that way to you touching him just as you react to him touching him. But your smile turns sympathetic. "Poor Mike. I'm going to have to get him some noise canceling headphones-"

Ben's eyes darken to an emerald. "Let him listen, maybe he'll learn something. Plus, I did warn him my girl was kinda loud."

"Is that what I am?"

"Yes." Ben smirks. "Fucking finally."

You roll your eyes. "The way we started might have been rocky, but I like where we ended up."

“I do too, but I wish we had ended up here sooner.” His smile turns more into a smirk. Ben's hand grips your waist possessively, sliding you further across the bed towards him so he's leaning over you. “Told you it would be good. We could’ve been doing this since the day we met sweetheart.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“That I’ve never had.” Ben hesitates, something flashing through his eyes so quickly that you can't place it. “But you’re okay?” It comes out quiet, and you watch his gaze drop again to your body to check for injuries.

“No.” Ben’s eyes widen at your answer, before you smile and bring his face back down to yours, the words a breath upon your lips. “I’m better than okay, I’m with you.”

The look on his face breaks you, it's so honest, so unlike the usual hardened façade he wore that it made it difficult to breathe. It reminds you of the way your father looked at your mother whenever he'd get home from work, or when the two of them would sway back and forth in the kitchen to an ABBA song, and when he looked at her like she was his entire world and nothing else mattered.

You never thought that you'd want to see Ben look at you like that or that he would ever look at you that way, but now his green eyes are bright and happy, meeting yours and it made you feel so warm that you were sure you would just melt off the bed and into a puddle.

It was what you had imagined when you thought about falling in love with someone else, the past four hours had been exactly that too. It was the romance that you wanted, the one that you tried to use to block off Ben’s countless attempts to try and sleep with you.

And you couldn't have been happier.

"Are you okay?" Your smile turns more into a smirk. "No broken hip or anything? Because at your age I'd think that it's a hazard. Didn't think an old man could do any of that without serious injury."

Ben's gaze turns murderous, something dark shining in his eyes that makes your throat tighten. "You're gonna regret that Petals."

"Oh, am I?" You tangle your fingers in his dark locks, your smirk growing. It brought you joy to make him so angry, to annoy him as much as he annoys you.

"Yes." He growls into your mouth pinning you to the bed, his body caging you in against the tangled sheets and blankets. Ben's eyes are glinting darkly in the light and makes you lose all feeling in your legs. "You are."

A little while later, Ben traces your lips softly with his thumb as you try to catch your breath. You were honestly beginning to fade in an out of sleep, and there was a pleasant ache along your limbs that made you smile with every drag of his fingertips against your skin.

“Petals?”

“Yes Gramps?”

"Don't call me that."

"I think it's cute." You sigh. "I like how out of touch you are with everything. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable." He huffs.

"Yes, you are Gramps."

Ben rolls his eyes, but then laughs under his breath as if he thinks it's ridiculous to try and stop you.

Good, he's learning.

“Will you say it again?” He whispers.

“Gramps?” You joke.

“No.” Ben sighs heavily and jostles your exhausted body to make you stop, but it only makes you laugh at him.

“Say what?”

“What you said before.”

“Ben, I can’t really remember where I am right now so I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.”

“When we were at Vought.”

You press your lips together in concentration trying to understand what he means. You'd said quite a few things to him tonight, things that you'd moaned while gripping his shoulders so tight that you would have left bruises on anyone else, and you try to think of what specifically he could be talking about.

What does he mean- Oh.

“I love you.” You say it without hesitation, without looking away from his gaze, and without regret. You didn’t hate yourself for falling in love with him and you didn’t want to deny yourself of him anymore. Not when he was holding you close with a softness that Ben had said he was anything but, not when Ben took the time to care about what you liked, and not when Ben seemed truly happy for the first time since he’d been out of Russia.

Ben leans down to kiss you, but this time it’s not rough, it’s not him in a frenzy taking what he wants, it’s gentle and turns hungry the longer his lips are against yours, his hands roaming places along your body that make you sigh and reach up grip his shoulders as an uncontrollable moan slips from your mouth.

If it was always going to be like this you were sure that you’d become insatiable, but you were never going to admit that to Ben. As if you needed to stroke his monumental ego.

Plus, you had a feeling that Ben already knew that.

“Do you believe me?” You murmur against his lips, shuffling your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking up at him with a gentle smile.

“Yes.” Ben whispers. “Because I know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“I wouldn’t ever do that to you Ben. I want you to know that. And I wouldn't manipulate you into being something you're not-"

“I know.” He traces the soft angles of your face with his rough fingertips, sending goosebumps over your skin. “You’re nothing like her.”

He didn’t have to say Countess’s name for you to know who he’s talking about. The last thing you wanted was for Ben to believe that you were telling him you loved him to manipulate him to do something or become something he wasn’t.

“I hope not.”

“It’s what I like about you.” Ben continues. “You’re soft."

"Soft?" You raise an eyebrow trying to figure out if it was an insult.

He nods. "All the other supes I meet act like they have something to prove, but you-" Ben sighs. "You're different. You're kinder, even when you shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be?” You ask mildly confused.

“I-“ Ben hesitates as if what he’s about to say is difficult for him. “What you said that night at the fundraiser is true, I’m not this man. I’m not-“ His expression turns dark for a moment and you realize that Ben was about to say Jake’s name. Ben's jaw tightens and you can see how difficult it is for him to say what comes next. "But fuck Petals you make me want to be that man. I don't think anyone else ever has."

You could feel your eyes beginning to water with the emotion that swelled in your chest. You'd never heard Ben admit something like that, never heard him say that he wanted to be better for you.

“Ben, look at me.” You whisper cupping his cheeks to raise his gaze from your chin. “I don’t want Jake. I want you. I know what kind of man you are. I trust you-“

“But you shouldn't-“ Ben presses and it reminds you of the same thing he said to you before he took you to your bedroom.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed people, tortured others,-“

"I've killed people too-"

"Not for the same reasons. You killed them because they were going to hurt you."

You gently push his hair back from his face. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” He's frowning, eyebrows furrowed together, and you kiss away the frown on his perfect lips.

“I know you. I know about the things you’ve done. I’ve seen the darkest parts and I love you anyway. All the little pieces of who you are make you… you. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t have them."

“But-“

“No buts.” You squish his cheek and Ben gives you an annoyed look that only makes you snort. He was going to need to get used to your antics if he was going to survive living with you. “Everything you’ve done, the choices you made, the things that have happened to you, shaped the man I fell in love with and brought you to me. No one is perfect Ben. Everyone is flawed, it’s what makes us human. But sometimes the flaws are the best part. So please don’t hide who you are from me, because you think you have to. You’re not going to scare me away.”

“How can you say that when I’m so different than you?”

“Because you’re forgetting all the important parts I love about you.”

“Which are?”

“Well now it kinda feels like you’re fishing for compliments Gramps.” You joke and this time the ends of Ben’s mouth quirk up in a half smile. “You protect me, you take care of me, you always listen when I’m talking and you actually remember some of the things I say, you pay attention to what I like, you try to make me laugh with your disgusting sense of humor-“

“You know you like it Petals.” Ben smirks.

“And you annoy me.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Doesn’t seem to be a good thing. Annoying you.”

“It is.” You giggle. “Because no one else annoys me quite like you do.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Ben says, but it's not hostile, he says it with love, almost as if he can't believe how lucky he is.

“I love you too Ben.” You pull his face down to yours, cupping his cheeks with your hands and feeling the beard scratch and scrape against your palms.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He murmurs, trailing his kisses down to your jaw.

“Pretty much everyone you’ve met is from another century so-“

Ben raises his head to glare at you. “You annoy me too.”

“And you see it as a good thing right?” You tap him on the nose.

“Fuck no.”

The bed shakes with your laughter, Ben is still leaning over you, his right hand pushed into the sheets next to your head, his body resting comfortably beside you. You could feel how warm he was, the weight of his body like a warm blanket, and you knew that you could get used to this. You wanted this life with Ben so badly it burned through your body like wildfire. It made your heart ache, just as it used to when you thought about having a romance like your parents, your grandparents, and Annie and Hughie. When you’d think about finding the person who seemed perfect for you in every way.

Funny, given that Ben seemed to be the opposite of you, but that was why the two of you fit so well together.

“You never listen to me, you always argue, you always find something I’ve done to complain about-“ Ben continues.

“Are you going back to insulting me? Because it wasn't exactly fun for me earlier when you yelled at me."

“Give me a fucking minute.”

You wait.

His voice shifts to something a little gruffer almost confused. “You don’t ask me for anything.”

It was probably the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything, you thought he was going to say that you’re always covered in dirt.

"What?"

“Countess she always-“ Ben frowns. “She was always asking me for shit. Jewelry, clothes, a new car. I always got what she asked because I thought that’s what you do for someone you care about, but you always fight me whenever I try to buy something for you. I don't understand you."

"You've said that before-"

"I know, but it's true. I've never fucking understood you." He smiles when he says it.

"That's okay, you have time to figure it out."

Ben hesitates, his hand tracing your arm. "I guess you do too."

The comment is paired with another rare soft smile, the kind of smile that you wanted to make him have every day for the rest of your life, and you understood why he was smiling like that. Because Ben was allowing himself to be comforted by the idea that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing you, that he wouldn't have to be alone and that you would be with him for as long as he was alive.

Something inside ripped open and you felt your eyes begin to water with the weight of his words, because Ben was saying that he wanted to be with you as long as you wanted to be with him.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I guess I do."

You contemplate for a minute what he said about Countess asking him for things. "Honestly, I do like gifts, but I like gifts that mean something." You sit up, gently pushing him off you, so you can gesture to the bookshelf standing proudly on the other side of your bedroom, the one that Ben bought you at IKEA. "Like the bookshelf."

"I bought you a diamond necklace and you liked the bookshelf more?" Ben sighs incredulous.

"Yeah." You laugh. "I've needed a bookshelf for ages, but I never was able to afford one. Do you have any idea how long I've had piles of books? Years. And-" You shrug your shoulders, gently taking Ben's hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the hardened ridges and rough patches. You couldn't go long without touching him, you were realizing that about yourself and now that you were finally allowing yourself to touch him you weren’t sure when you would be able to stop. "I've also always thought that spending time with someone else is more special than big extravagant gifts."

"Really?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"Because I think there's something wonderful about just existing with someone, of inhabiting the same space and doing nothing at all. Of sinking into someone and just being there." You could feel your cheeks flushing. "When we watch a movie or when we sit and read together or when you walk with me to the plant shop, I like things like that. Spending time together without expectations or a sense of urgency. Taking the time out of your day to be with someone else. And it doesn't have to be sex either-"

"Are you saying that you didn't like the sex?" Ben raises an eyebrow. "Because you certainly sounded like you-"

"No! I-" Your cheeks flush. "I liked the sex."

"Thought so." Ben smirks.

"You're insufferable." You roll your eyes at him, considering what to say next. "I know that it's a little different than the girls you've met in the past, and I know that it might seem a little strange, but you didn't have to take me to Vought to impress me or win my love or something."

Ben looks confused.

"I mean, if you'd shown up on my grandmother's doorstep with a giant box of greasy Chinese food, a cheap bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers I would have been equally happy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm." You continue to trace your fingers over the palm of Ben's hand, loving the way it feels in yours. "You've got some big hands there mister."

"There isn't anything small about me Sweetheart, you know that. Got to see firsthand" Ben teases sitting up and leaning towards you with a smirk that makes you roll your eyes. He takes your free hand in his left brushing his thumb over the palm. "Yours are kinda small."

"Sorry sasquatch, we can't all have meat hooks."

"I like it." He murmurs.

"That you've got meat hooks for hands?"

"No, I like how small your hands are." He smiles crookedly at you in a way that makes your breath catch.

"Why?"

"Just take the compliment Petals."

"Well, no one has ever complimented my hands before so…"

"I'm sure that I can give a compliment to every part of your sexy body.”

"If you're about to start talking about my ass again, Ben I swear I'm going to lock you in a tree."

“Songs should be written about it. I’m just stating the obvious.”

You shake your head at him and continue to stroke your thumb over his palm while Ben does the same thing. He was being surprisingly gentle, holding your hand as if it was a fragile bird that could fly away at any moment.

“Why do you like my hands?”

Ben is quiet for a moment. “I don't know I kind of like how delicate they are, and I like how you always seem to have some dirt on them-“ Ben smooths his thumb over your palm. “I like how small they look in mine.” He mutters more to himself than to you.

“Ben?” You whisper.

He glances up, an ashamed look on his face. “Yeah?”

“I like how they look in yours too.”

“Really?”

You nod before you look back down at his hands with red cheeks. “I like how big yours are because they feel solid, strong, but also just a little bit gentle.” You could feel yourself blushing all over again. “When we first met, I didn’t think you could be, but you are.”

Ben scoffs.

“Stop.” You look up at him. “You don’t have to pretend right now, it’s just you and me.” You whisper, squeezing his hand encouragingly. "I know that you think that you have to be this tough, no feelings, jerk or playboy or toxic masculinity poster boy, but you don’t. Not around me. I love you and you opening up to me more is not going to make me stop or think less of you. You can tell me how you feel without me judging you."

The look in Ben’s eyes softens for a moment.

“I like the way you are when you’re around me.” You continue in a whisper. “You always seem softer and a bit happier.”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately, instead he continues to let you stroke along his hands. “I-um-I” He clears his throat. “I like who I am around you too.”

Your cheeks warm with his confession.

Ben clears his throat still looking down at your hand watching the gentle movement of your thumb against his skin. "Look, I-" He pauses. "I wasn't just trying to impress you."

"When?"

"At Vought."

"Then why-"

"I don't want you to worry about any of this shit anymore."

"What shit?"

"Paying rent, buying groceries that aren't name brand, walking because you can't afford a car-" Ben sighs. "Fuck, the day we went to IKEA, and you looked at the price of that couch, I hated how you looked and-"

"Ben it's okay. I budget things and it works out. I'm used to it-"

"But I'm not. It's not okay." His hand tightens in yours. "And I don't want you to worry about any of it."

"But-"

"No 'buts' Petals. "

"I don't want you to pay for everything all the time!" You shout.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your money-"

"Not anymore. You're my girl and that means you're not going to worry about any of it as long as I'm here."

"Do you think you're going to stay a long time?" You say it hesitantly, the part of you deep down that worried Ben couldn't be in an exclusive relationship rearing its ugly head all over again.

"As long as you want me here." The determination in Ben's eyes makes your heart stutter a beat, but there was just a little bit of something behind his gaze, something that looked like vulnerability, but it vanishes in the heat of his gaze.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm always going to want you here. It's too quiet without you."

“Then I’ll stay.”

Ben pushes you back against the bed, fitting his body over yours like a warm weighted blanket designed especially for you, kissing you with so much enthusiasm you're not sure that you remember how to breathe. You didn't understand how it could be like this, how you could feel this way about him especially after he annoyed you so much.

But just as he reaches down to grab your thighs to pull them up around his hips, your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

Oh, holy fuck that is so embarrassing.

Ben hesitates and looks at you, your cheeks burning a bright red. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um-" You clear your throat. "I mean I drank some of my latte earlier but-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"I should have known." Ben sighs and extracts himself from the embrace of your thighs, getting up from the bed, and muttering something under his breath that you can't understand. “You always do this.”

"Wait, where are you going?" You ask him as you sit up.

"I'm going to find my fucking phone and order a pizza." He says, running his hand through his hair almost a little angry.

“It’s okay you don’t have to do that-“

“Yes, I do. I mean, fuck Petals, why don’t you ever remember to eat?” Ben grouses.

“Because I have a lot on my mind! A few things happened today, and I was upset because you weren't in the apartment when I got home and-"

Ben leans across the bed to kiss you, securing his large hand at the back of your head. "I'm sorry that you were upset. I swear that I'm going to make it up to you."

"Ben I’m pretty sure that you’ve spent the last four hours making it up to me-“

"Not long enough." He winks in a way that makes your throat tighten. "But let me find my phone.”

"Okay." You reach for his shirt on the floor prepared to help him find it, but Ben's hand comes down to your wrist to stop you. “Let me help.”

"Don't bother getting dressed Petals. This’ll only take a minute." He says with a wide smirk. "And I'm not done with you yet."

You're not sure how you ended up on the couch naked and eating pizza, but somehow that's exactly what happens. When the pizza guy had been buzzed up, Ben had answered the door only wearing a pair of his boxers, his chest still sweaty and his hair tugged in two different directions, but Ben couldn't have cared less.

Honestly, you'd had to stop him from answering the door naked. The guy had no sense of shame, but you figured that someone who had founded Herogasm and spent at least seventy five percent of his week bed-hopping, had probably lost his sense of shame years ago.

Bean and Rex were now sharing the dog bed in the corner, a surprising turn of events, but you hoped that it meant the two of them had sorted out whatever sibling problems they were having.

Ben's arm was thrown over your shoulders, pulling you further into him while you ate a slice of pizza with your head leaning against his arm.

I could get used to this.

You exhale a happy sigh and cuddle further into him. Ben wasn't a cuddler, but he was allowing you to cuddle against his arm. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, eating his own slice while taking sips of a glass of whiskey that he was sharing with you.

Sharing was a relative turn because the one time he gave you a sip, you'd sputtered it all out and almost coughed up a lung while Ben patted you on the back as hard as he dared, laughing all the while at you.

And predictably when Ben and you were done, he pulled you onto his lap, and the only thing you could think of was how wonderful you felt. Being with Ben made you feel vibrant and alive in the best way. He made you feel beautiful and made you feel as if Ben understood you more than anyone else ever had. That he saw through what everyone else called weird or unusual and loved you anyway. It was all you wanted for so long, a man who saw every part of you that others sneered at and fell head over heels.

Ben deepens the kiss, groaning into your mouth as his hands tighten on your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but you don't care. Everything about him felt right, the scruff of his beard scratching against your flushed cheeks, the smell of his shampoo (really yours) floating through the air with every breath you took of him, the soft pillow of his lips urgent as if he wanted to drink you in breath by breath and never come up for air, the rough trail of his calloused hands over your soft skin, and the hardness of his body molding around yours in the best way as you sat on top of him. You didn't feel self-conscious or uncomfortable, you couldn't, not when each time Ben touched you with a reverence as if wanted to savor you, to run his hands over every inch and discover new places that no one had ever been, and make you feel things that no one ever has or ever will.

You're so absorbed in Ben that you don't hear the jingle of keys in the lock of your front door, but you do hear the startled scream.

"What the fuck!" Annie screams as she enters the living room.

"Holy shit! Annie what the fuck are you doing here!?" You screech, diving off Ben and ripping the crocheted blanket off the back of the couch to cover yourself.

Annie had seen you naked before, what she hadn't seen was Ben naked or Ben and you having sex.

Oh, will the nightmare never end?

"I was just coming to find you! I was worried!" She shouts, her hand covering her eyes, but it was too late. You knew that she'd seen everything. And you mean EVERYTHING.

Well, it can't get any worse.

"Hey Annie did you find her and- OH HOLY FUCK!" Hughie exclaims as he enters the apartment behind Annie and immediately slaps his hand over his eyes so loud you can hear the sharp slap of his hand against his face. "I didn’t see anything!"

"Can someone shut the door before Mike comes in here and 'doesn't see anything either!'" You snap, clutching the crocheted blanket tighter against your chest. It was doing little to cover you, due to the wide spaces in between the granny squares, but it was the only thing big enough to cover all of you.

Because that's exactly what this situation needed, my neighbor coming in and getting everything on his Christmas list when he sees me naked on my couch.

"Why try to hide it baby?" Ben shrugs, leaning back against the couch not bothering to cover himself. "I want everyone to see what they can't have." He winks.

You smack him in the face with one of the couch pillows before shoving it into his lap. "You're not helping Ben." You wave a hand and a vine hanging on the back of your door shuts it with a slam.

"What?" Ben leans towards you with a salacious grin. "My girl is fucking gorgeous, should be the star of every wet dream-"

"Ben, I swear I will tie you up and-"

"But we already did that Petals." He grins. "I wouldn't mind doing it again-"

The wave of heat that travels through your body has nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Please do not finish that sentence." Annie interrupts, her hand still covering her eyes. "I'm already scarred for life."

"Join the club." Hughie mutters.

"You wouldn't have been scarred for life if you had just fucking knocked!" You shout at your friend. "Why are you here?"

"I was worried when you ran to the elevators and Ashley finally let me leave that ridiculous party! I tried to call you and you didn't answer, I went up to Ben's apartment and you weren't there, I called your grandmother and she said that she hadn't heard from you, so I figured you were here!"

"You called Di?" Ben asks.

"I was desperate!" Annie sighs. "I wanted to make sure she was okay-"

"Uh-huh well, you can see that she's fine and we were in the middle of something. Unless the two of you want to get another eyeful of my girl's perfect ass, you should clear out-"

"Ben!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"Absolutely, Annie let's go-" Hughie begins to say stepping backward with his hand over his eyes. He gropes through the air blindly trying to find her, but he comes up empty.

"Wait!" Annie removes her hand from her face, giving Ben a once over and not bothering to hide what she was doing.

"What do you have to wait for?" Hughie asks still reaching out for Annie with his eyes closed.

"Annie for fucks sake-" You groan, but Ben seemed to like all the attention.

She gives you a thumbs up. "I want details tomorrow."

It was more of a high five moment and you both knew it, but you weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

"ANNIE!" You huff face blushing an even brighter red. By now you were sure that you were as red as the strawberries that were hanging on the plant on your kitchen table.

"Bye babe!" Annie says cheerfully, pulling Hughie out the door behind her and slamming it.

"I'm going to kill her." You mutter under your breath, but Ben laughs.

"You're going to talk me up right baby?" Ben purrs wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him again. His lips fall to your ear, biting your earlobe before he murmurs. "Tell her all about how good I was?"

"Keep talking and I'm going to tell her that I had to fake it for four hours." You threaten.

It was an empty threat, like hell you were ever going to forget what Ben had done to you. And of course, you were going to tell Annie everything tomorrow over coffee or maybe over wine.

Definitely wine. I’m going to need to get a little bit drunk to cope with the thought that Hughie just saw me naked.

"Aww don't be like that Petals. We both know that you didn't fake anything."

“That you know.”

Ben’s gaze turns dark. “Oh really?” His grip on your waist tightens and he starts to pull the crocheted blanket away from your chest.

“Wait.” You say before you get distracted.

“What?” Ben pulls back. "What's wrong?"

"Annie called my grandmother, which means that she may have tried to call me." You look around the room for where your phone could be. It's between the couch cushions behind you and when you look at the screen you see that your grandmother had tried to call you twice, just as you suspected.

"So?"

"She called me. She must be so worried." You push the call button.

Your grandmother answers on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey Gran, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was-"

"You don't have to explain. I know that you must have been preoccupied." The way she says preoccupied makes your entire body flush bright red.

Oh, sweet baby peony, please tell me that my grandmother didn't watch Ben and me having sex.

"Please tell me that you didn't-" You begin to croak.

"I didn't mean to." She breezes, and she doesn't sound ashamed. "But then Annie called, and I was worried about where you were so I looked ahead a bit and-“

"Oh, for the love of lemon cream pie." You groan, curling up into a ball because that seems the right thing to do after you've found out that your grandmother had a front row seat to see what Ben and you over the past four hours.

The couch shakes beneath you, and you realize that Ben is laughing. You raise your head to glare at him.

"Looks like the cats out of the bag Petals." He croons.

"I will kill you." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Sweet Pea, I was alive when Ben went to yearly herogasms, there really isn't anything I haven't seen." You hear your grandmother say.

"That doesn't matter." You groan, pulling the crochet blanket over your head in shame. "This is mortifying."

"Petals it's okay." Ben rubs your back, but it's not helping. "I did some of my best work, and you really did some-“

"Please do not finish that sentence."

"Honey, I didn't see too much." Your grandmother soothes. "But I am happy you called, because I want to speak to Ben for a moment."

You hold up the phone from underneath the crocheted blanket, remaining inside your cocoon of shame.

I'm never going to be able to look her in the eyes every again. Holy fuck why me? Why me!? I’d rather Mike walk in here while Ben and I were fooling around on the couch.

"Di, what's wrong?" You hear Ben say into the phone, but you don’t come out of your cave.

"What's wrong?" Your grandmother asks calmly. "Oh, let me think for a second… You're a complete MOTHER FUCKING IDIOT!" Your grandmother shouts it so loudly that you could hear it vibrating through the room.

You peel back the crocheted blanket on your head to look up at Ben who seems just as surprised at your grandmother's insult.

"Wait a minute, what did I-"

"No! No talking!" She shouts. "I couldn't have been any clearer, could I? Maybe if I'd hit you over the head with a frying pan it would have cleaned out your ears! Or given your brain a good shake."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?! I told you what you needed to do. I told you that you needed to come here and what did you fucking do? You broke my granddaughter's heart and went right back to Stan Fucking Edgar!"

Ben's eyes shift to yours and you swear you can see a flicker of regret spark behind his gaze. It makes you reach out and take his free hand, squeezing it to ground him here with you. You knew that Ben felt bad about leaving you like that, you heard it in his voice when he talked to you back at Vought, had seen the regret in his eyes when he told you that he ‘should have been there.’

"That's not-" Ben says half-heartedly, his gaze still on you.

"No! It's exactly what happened."

"Stop anticipating what I'm going to fucking say!" Ben snaps.

"And you stop interrupting me!" Your grandmother shouts back.

"But-"

"Benjamin, you better not fuck this up, because if you do, I will fuck you up." The threat hangs heavy in the air. "Now put my granddaughter back on the phone."

Ben huffs something under his breath and hands you back the phone, fuming. You give his hand another apologetic squeeze.

It was embarrassing enough that your grandmother had seen Ben and you having sex, but now you were mortified that she had yelled at him. You understood that they were friends, but Ben was still your boyfriend.

"Gran you shouldn't talk to him like that." You say into the phone, leaning into Ben's bare shoulder to show him that you weren’t angry with him. "He's apologized and it's okay-"

"It most certainly is not okay." Your grandmother says. "And somebody's got to talk to him like that, so it might as well be me."

"But Gran-"

"No buts sweet pea." She interrupts. "Now I know the two of you are busy today, but I would like you to come out here next week."

"Next week?"

"Yes. It's the annual town fall festival and I've got about a million things to bake, and I could really use the help." Your grandmother states. "Plus, Annie's mother is driving me up the wall about it and it would be nice to have someone here to make sure that I don't kill her."

"Oh okay." You frown and the thought of leaving Ben. The two of you had just finally worked it all out and now you were going to have to go back to Illinois. But you couldn't leave your grandmother high and dry. She needed you there and you loved your grandmother. "Well, I guess Ben can take care of Bean and Rex-

"I want to go." Ben interrupts you.

"Really?" You look at him surprised. "It's not something that you'd-"

"I want to go." He says firmly and this time it's Ben that squeezes your hand.

It made you smile, because you could see that Ben wanted to spend time with you even at something that he'd probably hate every second of.

Fuck, I love him so much.

"Okay. We'll be there." You reply to your grandmother, but you don't look away from Ben.

He's got that soft smile on his face, the one that you want to make him have every second for the rest of your life. You were sure that the same smile was mirrored on your own.

"Perfect. Now get back to doing whatever it was that you were doing, and don't forget to call me when you figure out what day you're going to start driving over."

"Drive? Wouldn't we fly?"

"Nope. For some reason you convince Ben that a road trip will be fun." She says knowingly and you realize that she's seen the future again. “Something about experiencing America in the 21st century.” You can imagine her waving her hand around as if she can’t quite understand.

"That's going to take some getting used to." You groan and wonder how much she had seen of your life. "Gran?"

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome." You could hear the smile in your grandmother's voice.

She didn’t need you to explain what you meant, she knew that you were talking about last week when she comforted you and tried her darndest to tell you that Ben and you were meant to be together. She had always been so patient with you, and you knew that she loved you just as you loved her. Going home was never a chore or something you dreaded. It was something that filled you with warmth, something that made you feel like you belonged, and the home was filled with the love your grandmother infused through the air with her thoughtful actions and kind words.

"I love you." You smile.

"I love you too sweetie. I'll see you next week."

You sit there in the silence for a moment, lowering the phone from your ear, before you look up at Ben.

"You okay Petals?" Ben drags the crocheted blanket away from your body, before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Yeah. I am." You smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to secure him against you. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything." His hands settle comfortably on your hips, but Ben doesn’t look away from your face.

"That you won’t leave like that again." This time you reach down and pull his right hand up to your chest, directly over your heart so he can feel the gentle beat through his skin.

'Like-"

"Go all radio silent and take all your stuff and just vanish into thin air." You clarify. "I didn't like that. It scared me and I-"

Ben's other hand cups your cheek, pulling your face to his before you can finish your sentence. You can feel how sorry he is, how much he wants to make it up to you. You know deep down that Ben didn’t mean to do that to you, that he only did it because he was trying to push you away, but that didn't make it any less okay.

"I promise." He says into your mouth before nipping at your sore bottom lip and easing the pain with a sweep of his tongue against the soft flesh. "I won't leave like that again."

"Good." But instead of kissing him again, this time you press your forehead into his shoulder with a soft sigh, cuddling into him.

"Tired?" Ben's hand begins to circle at the base of your spine.

"Mhmm. You wore me out old man."

"I thought you were faking it."

"I wasn't faking all of it." You press a kiss into the shadow of his jaw, holding on to him. You wondered if Ben was okay with how clingy you were but given his hand placement you didn't think that it bothered him.

"Thought so." Ben chuckles. "Petals?"

"Hmm?" You hum into his skin, tightening your arms around his neck. He was wonderful and warm in the best way, like the perfect heating pad. Not to mention the way his muscles tensed around your body made goosebumps flicker over your arms. You could feel a wave of happiness and contentment crashing over your head, the longer you cuddled into him.

"Will you promise me something?" He mutters into the top of your head.

"Of course."

He’s quiet for a few moments. "That you won't leave either." Ben whispers it so quietly that you're not sure that you heard him correctly.

You pull back just a few inches to look him in the eye. He looks a little ashamed, and you can practically see the internal self-deprecating monologue inside his head, his face scrunching up in disgust. He opens his mouth, probably to take it back-

Your lips meet his, gentle, unyielding, pouring every emotion you have into it, your hands finding the strands of hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. You wanted Ben to understand that you would never judge him for that, that he could be vulnerable around you without consequence. And you wanted him to believe how much you loved him and how much he meant to you.

Ben moans into your mouth, pulling you tighter against his chest, your body molding against his in the best way, in the way that Ben only could. His hands were everywhere, trailing warmth in their wake, making the tiredness that you had felt minutes ago fade as you began to burn beneath his calloused palms.

He tasted good, he smelled good, and he felt so damn good that it made you feel like you were catching fire one cell at a time, burning until there was nothing left but stardust.

"I promise Ben." You whisper against his mouth before he swallows the words whole. "I promise that I'll never leave as long as you want me here."

He hesitates, hands stilling on your hips. An odd look crosses his face.

"Ben? What's wrong?" You cup his cheeks, worried about him.

"I-" He swallows, but looks frustrated with himself.

"It's okay." You whisper, brushing your lips against his, understanding exactly what it is that he's trying to say. "You don’t have to say it. I know. I love you too.”

And you did know. You knew that it was difficult for him to admit something like that, but you didn’t care. You knew that Ben loved you as much as you loved him, and that was enough for you.

You settle back down against his chest, holding him close to you.

“Come on Petals, let’s go to bed.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes?” You whisper into his throat, nuzzling into his warmth.

Ben’s hand gently trails along your back, holding you steadily on top of him. “Yeah. We can do that.”

And you wondered if Ben liked this as much as you did, if there was a piece of Ben that longed for the quiet moments you loved so much, and the quiet moments when it was just the two of you and no one else.

You feel him press a kiss to your hairline, and it’s enough to send you off into the sweet relief of sleep, swallowed and enveloped in Ben’s warm embrace.

A/N: Just a lovely bit of fluff and a little spice 😉. I really needed to just write a soft Ben and a reader enjoying their time together. 😊 There will be one more chapter that is a little bit of a time jump, but I think it will wrap up the series wonderfully! But don't worry, it won't be the last time I write for this reader and Ben. I have a mini-series planned and a few one-shots planned!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know!

Taglist:

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purple-babygirl · 9 months ago

Text

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!”

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

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a-b-riddle · 8 months ago

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An announcement about Can't Stop Thinking About...

Good news, bad news, okay-ish news about CSTA.

Good: I have outlines from part 7-12 outlined! Dialogue and plot are all mapped out until part 12. Part 12 is going to be the longest chapter. like 4,000+ words so far.

Bad news: part 12 is the last part.... That's where the story ends. There isn't really anything I can think of after that that I plan on doing in the series

Okay-ish news: I will be adding in some drabbles like explicit smut scenes, earlier parts of their relationship, how they met, etc.

Thank you to everyone who started following because of this story. I hope to have the story wrapped up by this weekend. If not, at least the next few chapters posted.

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sierrale8ne · 29 days ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THIRTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings this one is pretty sad ngl, some internal realizations, angst

kalena speakss 🪽! don’t jump me i swear things are happier next chapter lmao

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

I’m happy.

The phrase plays over and over in my head like a mantra, like I'm trying to convince myself more than I am everyone else.

Music blares loudly at the Sparks gala, some fancy art museum that was all done up to make our coach and our GM look good, and to make the hundreds of rich donors in the building give money to the organization.

It’s working though, apparently a new practice facility is on the way.

It’s my first Gala, which means Brit dressed me in a fancy pinstriped suit: white button up, black tie. My hair, freshly dyed, falls straight over my shoulders. Some silver chains layered on my neck, studs in my ears.

I look good.

And in a room full of women, I should be taking advantage of the opportunity. But I’m not even sure I want to with the way Maraye is all I can think about.

I think it’s been, scratch that, it's literally been the longest five days of my life. I’ve sent so many texts that my thumbs are swollen, and checked my phone at all hours of the night that my eyes were burning.

She runs through my head during all hours of the day. And if I had a chance to talk to her just once I think everything would be fine.

So you can imagine how quick my neutral expression just flips when I see her. Maraye, in a beautiful floor length navy gown. Her hair done up in a side part, a golden cuff tracing her ear. The tattoo that trails down her neck to her shoulder is even more visible by the way her hair drapes over her shoulder.

I knew she was here, her attendance being part of the reason I dressed up and made my way here. She was all I needed to see. Not all the investors that wanted to talk to the number one pick, or anyone else who wanted me to be Paige Bueckers the basketball player.

I needed to see her. The one who made me feel like I was just me.

"Either y'all say something to each other or move on, P." Cameron snickers as she watches my attempt to just go through the motions. "You have all these girls here and you’re not paying ‘em any mind."

Raye had just finished up a conversation with Coach Roberts. Which makes the smallest change to my expression because there she was, smiling and laughing with my head coach and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re talking about me. If just a little bit of that bright smile of hers is at the mention of my name.

"Better watch out, that girl over there with her mouth watering." Dearica jokes as she points to whoever the hell is making her way over to Raye with her hand on Raye’s arm.

A blonde. Hair shorter than mine and she herself is probably shorter than me too.

I can’t even see her face, but I bet she’s smiling, telling her some corny joke because it makes Raye giggle, and now I’m angry. There’s no way it could be that funny.

I feel wrong. Out of place in a room where, in the least cocky sounding way possible, I literally commanded attention.

But none of it matters, because I stand here, letting my teammates ridicule me over something they know nothing about, while wanting to insert myself into whatever she and Maraye were discussing.

Even more than that, me and her had our own private matters to discuss. There were too many words left unsaid to bring to the surface.

I couldn’t let it all go to waste without talking to her. That’s it. I let it go for five days, but any longer and I was sure that there’d be no more fixing it.

“Okay, I was just kidding but— oh my God you have feelings for her.” Cameron chuckles, and from the corner of my eye I see her jaw drop a little.

“Cam, just shut up for a second.”

I think about when I went to dinner with Nika, and the most important thing that sets in my head while I’m shamelessly staring is when she asked if there was anything holding me back.

Then, I said yes. That the thing was holding me back from Raye was my career.

But now, I feel like an idiot because the real thing holding me back was myself. My shitty relationship skills and my very obvious commitment issues when it came to having feelings for someone.

In what felt like milliseconds, my feet were moving faster than my brain and I was almost in reach of her when my eyes connected with Raye’s.

I can’t read her face. If she’s still hurt or if she wants to find a way to hit me with a car. It’s just blank. Which in my opinion is ten times worse than her giving me a reaction. There is none.

I do, however, pick up on this; the pure amusement when a girl approached me.

I remember her. Tanned skin and curls that framed her face. One of the few girls I’ve had a one night stand with after getting drafted.

"Paige, hey!” She grins, her hand resting on my forearm.

I couldn't help but look past her to see Raye’s response. It was clear that she didn't look pleased, turning away to listen to whatever was being said by other blondie.

I had to make a decision and it was literally my future vs. my very embarrassing past. I just know that letting this conversation continue for even a second longer, was a second that would make Raye hate me more than I think she already does.

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me." I mutter without another thought, not even taking a second look at the woman in front of me, choosing to continue my path to her.

Raye looks at me shocked. Her eyes went wider and her serious expression faltered just slightly.

I don’t even speak, just inserting myself in the space between the fellow blonde and the woman I hoped to take home tonight. Which might be just a bit forward, but I decided then that I didn’t even care.

"Buckets, good to see you!" The blonde greets me, a smile on her face as she senses nothing ill behind my appearance and shakes my hand.

My eyes don’t even look down to her for more than a second, physically stuck to the beauty in front of me.

"Mind if I cut in and speak to Maraye real quick?"

Raye raises her brow before placing her empty glass down. A cup of what I assume had to be a lemon drop.

Her hand presses to that girl's shoulder, smiling much to my irritation. But luckily she ends the conversation there, hopefully keeping it that way for the rest of the night.

Then she’s walking off in front of me, and my legs are moving all too fast to catch up to her. I end up following her out the gala hall and down the hallway, past some stairs, and then she stops. Turing on her Jimmy Choo heels to look at me with her arms crossed.

When I was laying in bed or sitting on my couch, the words I needed to say came easy. Having her stand in front of me though, makes it so much fucking harder.

“You don’t get to do this.”

“Ra—”

“Breaking up my conversation? What, Paige. What could you possibly have to say to me right now?” She asks me.

It’s a good question. I don’t know what I should tell her. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, not with her. I know better than to even try it again.

“Raye, we just need to talk. That’s it. It’s been five days.”

“And I don’t think that’s long enough! I spent seven days thinking about you and you spent seven days avoiding telling me the truth.” She bites. “I’m not ready. Let me be ready.”

And just as fast as I got her alone, she’s pushing off her heels and walking past me, so quick that I don’t even get the chance to reach for her. To hold her back and tell her everything that I’m feeling.

That— the inability to speak to the only person that I really want to be around— that hurts more than anything else I think I’ve ever felt in my life.

So I lied. I’m not happy.

I’m very fucking miserable.

—

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s hard to explain the feeling.

When I was in her house— Paige trying her hardest to keep me there, within reach— my mind was racing. When we stood face to face at the gala the other night and Paige was looking at me with all the hurt so obvious in her eyes, my heart almost stopped completely.

But now that it’s been over a week since I found out, I think the closest thing to describe all this is numb. I’m numb to it all.

Every time something comes along that reminds me of her— a pretty blonde on the tv, a tweet about the sparks, anything fucking purple— I don’t get upset nor do I cry, I just sit there. Like I'm doing now.

Cassie sits soundly next to me on the couch, I’ve decided that I really needed some older sister love tonight. My head rests on her shoulder, a plate of banana pudding in my lap that reminds me too much of Paige and the first night I really got to know her.

It’s all too emotional. The way Cassie runs her hands through my hair or rubs my shoulder without asking questions. Add on the romance movie on the screen.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, 10 Things I Hate About You plays on my TV, and watching Kat Stratford read her poem makes the tears flow from my eyes nearly as hard as they did last week.

“Ra—no, don’t cry! It’s okay.” Cassie immediately attempts to comfort me, but my eyes aren’t even glued to the screen anymore.

They stare up at the ceiling, as if looking at the white expanse would stop them from falling.

It doesn’t.

It just gives me the perfect background to picture me and her. All of the late night FaceTimes. I can see the screen of my Mac, or my phone, and I can see her in the center of it. I can hear that laugh, loud and so uniquely Paige.

All the late night drives, the chipotle runs, the waffle house breakfasts. Everything I’ve ever done with her just consumes me.

Cassie’s palm spreads over my check, attempting to wipe what’s left of the streaks on my face. It’s almost second nature to her, taking care of me.

“Okay I wasn’t gonna mention Paige, but now you’re crying over a movie we’ve seen thousands of times.” She starts tugging me into her and rubbing my back gently. “Talk to me Chuchi.” She pouts and I laugh at the nickname I probably haven’t heard since I was like 12 years old.

I’ve done a good job at keeping this whole Paige thing under wraps. Nobody knew what was going on between us anyway, and I don’t think we really knew what was going on either until it was being stripped away.

But it was stupid of me to think my sister wouldn’t pick up on the signs. I used to find every excuse to bring Paige up in conversation, and now I haven’t talked about her for a week.

“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” I ask. “Cause if it is, I swear I’m never getting involved with another woman again.” I sniff, wiping my eyes languidly.

“If it does, that just means you really like her.” Cassie explains. It’s so soft. Like saying anything else, anything real, would break me apart into a million pieces. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

I do. So, I do.

I tell her everything, she’s my sister of course. I leave out nothing, telling her everything I felt when Paige first tumbled into us at the game. To the dinner party, which makes me cry some more over the banana pudding.

Each memory replays in my head like a vivid movie scene. The way Paige kissed me: always skillful but still a bit hesitant like she was trying to learn me, learn my tells and what makes me smile. And as I speak I can still feel her lips and her hands, smell her cologne so vividly that I swear it’s probably lingering on my hoodie right now.

I can so clearly recall everything that went down in her apartment. How fucking happy I was behind that door and how my smile only grew when she opened it and I got to see her again. After days of yearning for her.

After days of wanting her and thinking of her and needing her.

How she touched me that day. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about how Julian and I were done. But she still touched me so intimately. Like she already knew.

Her hands on my thighs and mine playing with that blonde hair on the nape of her neck. Blue eyes staring into mine like she’d die if she looked away.

Paige had that way of making you think you were the only person in the world. The only person she wanted or cared for, just by looking into your eyes.

And I fell victim to it.

I remember every single word she said to me that day. I also remember every single word I said to her.

Which doesn’t really help when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not in the wrong. That walking out was a good decision.

The way her voice raised when she got defensive, telling me I didn’t “get to be upset”. Then the way it immediately contrasted when she apologized. That subtle crack of her voice replayed in my mind over and over like a skipping record.

I’ve only ever been cheated on once in my life. I was young, in high school, in a relationship that lasted a few years.

And that one hurt. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.

It did make for some good music.

But this. This whatever with Paige feels ten times worse.

I swear I can feel each pulse and throb of my heart in my chest. Each mention of her name causes a few stray, dramatic tears to pool at my waterline.

By the time I finish telling Cassie everything, my nose is already puffy and reddened. I think I’ve stopped crying now, but I'm not sure because my cheeks are still wet. Tissues pile in my lap and some new romance movie plays on the screen.

I didn’t know how much I was holding back until now. Until it was all laid out in front of me and my sister.

“You gotta talk to her, Raye.” She shrugs. I know I do. But thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.

I look at her wearily. My tongue is poking at the corner of my lips as I think. “I dunno if I’m ready yet, Cas.” I mumble, my voice low. Almost embarrassed.

“I know.” She comforts, running her finger over my knee. “But maybe hearing her out is gonna make things clearer for you. Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.”

I let that sink in. Replaying her words in my head until they stick.

Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.

—

July 2025 — Seattle, Washington

The ball passed through the net consistently. Swish after swish as if I had a point to make or something to prove.

And I do.

I’ve been playing like shit these last couple games before all-star. I blame it on Maraye and my inability to get her out of my head.

So instead of getting sleep, and quite possibly dreaming about her and those perfect eyes, I’m on the court at our hotel, putting up shot after shot until the sound of the nylon and the leather becoming one just meshes in my brain like music.

Music. Yet another thing that reminds me of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It’s Rickea. Her voice is easy to spot even with my back turned.

“I’m getting shots up Kea.”

“Well I can see that. It’s two in the morning, P.”

I chase after my rebound once again before looking at her lazily. Completely decked out in Sparks gear, similarly to myself.

I think my silence in this whole matter is part of the reason why I’m struggling so badly. But I don’t know who to talk to. Azzi and Nika would take it upon themselves to fix it. Cam would call me an idiot, which I’ve accepted at this point but still it isn’t what I need.

Kea already told me my head would be served on a silver platter for making a mess.

So I keep it all to myself.

Basketball was my therapy. I’d get in the gyms and shoot till someone was coming in and telling me to go home. Then, everything would be fine.

Except now it’s not fine. Because I get up, go to the gym, and the entire time I’m shooting, I just think about Raye.

“Ion know what to do, Kea.” I shrug, my voice sounding so different than what I’m used to hearing. It’s not certain, actually the complete opposite.

I take another shot. The second it leaves my hands, I know it’s off. The rim clunks loudly at my miss, and that alone is enough to break me down from the inside out.

“Paige.”

“I need to get her back.” I sniff, not even registering the single tear that immediately trails down my cheek. “Help me get her back, Kea.”

Rickea is walking over to me in an instant, stepping in front of me to stop me from grabbing another ball and letting this cycle consume me for another couple hours. She looks at me with something I can’t quite grasp. Like sympathy, but at the same time her eyes are stern like she’s pissed at me.

I deserve that. She told me she’d kill me if I hurt Raye. And I did, bad.

“Paige. Jus’ breathe, aight? Breathe and listen to me for a second.” She says, hands splayed on my shoulders in an attempt to ground me.

This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with any of my teammates, let alone Rickea. Usually it’s dumb jokes, and making fun of each other, prying a bit too hard into each of our personal lives. But I nod anyway, taking a shaking breath and wiping my face.

“I’m not gonna tell you how much you fucked up. You already know that.” She starts. “You’re so used to being in control that when you’re not, you start spiraling. Just breathe. Give her time.”

She’s right. I’m usually in control of everything. My career, my family, Maraye. And now that she’s taking control of us, causing that distance, I don’t know what to do.

“This shit fuckin’ hurts, Kea.” I groan, turning around to walk over to the bench. “I know I made a mistake but damn, it’s eating me alive.”

She racks up the balls for me before taking a seat next to me. I probably stink, all the sweat from my late night workout. But still Rickea wraps an arm around me, much different than any of the hugs we’ve had before. Like she doesn’t care about anything else but comforting me.

“You see where she’s coming from tho, right?” She asks me. “If Raye doesn’t wanna talk it’s prolly because she doesn’t wanna hurt you more. I know her well enough to know that mouth is reckless.” She jokes, and it brings a smile to my face because it’s true.

“So instead, she got me payin’ for my mistake by feeling the absence of her in my life.”

“Exactly!” Kea nods as if this is some astute observation. “Well, I dunno if that’s a good thing. But hold onto some hope, Five. She likes you. She doesn’t have to tell me that for me to see it.”

Surprisingly the words do soothe me a bit. If I’m feeling like shit over my own decision, I can only imagine how she’s feeling. With all the shit she got going on work wise, to have me pile more shit on top of it must be terrible.

“Just wait it out a little longer. I like you both together more than I like you apart, okay?”

I nod, holding on to those words tight.

Even though I’m missing her. I just have to wait it out. Whenever she’s ready.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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whimsyfinny · 3 months ago

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He’s a Winchester

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, anxious Dean, anxious Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2683

MDNI 18+

A/N: another slightly shorter chapter (sorry). Idk why but I rewrote this chapter so many times to try and get it right, so fingers crossed it’s not awful. But the encounter finally happens! Not long now until we get to see Dean doing dad things, and tbh, I’m living for it. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you all

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Spilling the truth took a lot less time than I'd anticipated, so after a quick update texted to Kat and the much needed coffees, Dean and I decided to head over to the track. Dean himself was feeling every emotion under the sun. He expressed a constant string of heartfelt apologies for nearly the whole walk from Jolenes’ Café back to where we'd parked, despite me constantly reminding him that he has nothing to apologise for. He's here now, and that's what matters. The phrases ‘I have a son,’ and ‘I’m a dad’ seemed to intertwine with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ like a mantra, to the point where I had to stop him in his tracks and refocus his attention before his head got lost in the clouds.

“I get it, Dean. This is so much to absorb right now, and I can't imagine what is going on in that crazy brain of yours. You don't have to come with me right now, we can meet tomorrow if you want-”

“No, absolutely not. I've been absent for too long and I'll be damned if I waste another minute,” he nervously wiped his hands over his face as we approached my truck. I couldn't help but smile. “I mean, what if he doesn't like me?”

I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping my mouth, earning a raised eyebrow from the man who was working himself into an anxious sweat.

“Dean, trust me, he's going to want to be your best friend. Especially when he knows that’s your car,” I nodded my head to the impala a few spaces away, recalling Levi's excitement when he saw it in town yesterday.

“Really?”

“Really. Plus…” I hesitated, unsure what emotion my next statement was going to stir within Dean, “he's been bullied for not having a dad around, and I think he'll be grateful for that to stop.”

Deans’ brows furrowed as he leant on the side of my truck, dropping his head and muttering a few curses.

“He's been bullied because I've not been there?” He looked up with a pained pinch in his brow. I sighed.

“Yes but trust me, your boy gives as good as he gets,” I smiled a little, bringing Dean some reassurance. I could tell the words ‘your boy’ had an effect on him. “Look,” I reached out to rub his shoulder affectionately, to which he responded with a warm hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “We need to get going to pick him up. Why don't you come in my truck with me?” He paused for a moment, thinking, gathering his thoughts before standing up straight and nodding. “Great,” I grinned at him, a few nervous butterflies fluttering in my own stomach now. I reached for his hand again, giving it another squeeze, “let's get going then.”

Dean had insisted on driving, mainly for his own sanity and I’d happily obliged, remembering what a terrible passenger he was. After a couple of painstaking minutes of him readjusting my seat, we pulled away and headed down to the track.

The drive was about twenty minutes, and most of that was spent in a comfortable conversation about Levi. Dean wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. His hobbies, his favourite movie, his favourite cereal, his least favourite cereal, his grades, his favourite subject… the list went on. Before we knew it, we were turning down a dirt road and pulling into a large gravel car park. As we pulled up and hopped out, the buzz of dirt bikes and loud chatter filled the air, along with the intense smell of petrol. Dean walked around to my side, looking around and taking it all in.

“Levi does this? He can ride a dirt bike?” he asked, an impressed tone to his voice. Dean had forgone the leather jacket and as I glanced at him, I couldn't help but trail my gaze over his biceps and the way the grey fabric of his t-shirt stretched around the large muscles. I looked away quickly before he caught me. Now was not the time to let my eyes or thoughts wander.

“Yeah, he's really into it, and he's good too; he has a few trophies at home. To be honest, he loves anything with wheels and an engine,” I grinned, meeting Deans’ eyes with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Really?”

“You know, he's a lot like you - even though you've never met. It's kinda crazy,” I started heading down to the gathering point, knowing that Levi would be coming off the track soon. Dean was hot on my heels. “He even looks like you.”

“Poor kid.”

I smacked him on the arm playfully as Dean chuckled.

“You're handsome and you know it, so shut your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Just as we were approaching the gathering point I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking through the crowd I saw Kat trotting up to us in her poorly chosen footwear, Toby nowhere in sight. She pulled me into a hug with a smirk already growing on her lips, and as she pulled back she turned to study the tall man at my side.

“Hmm… you are even finer than your photograph.”

“Kat!”

She ignored me.

“I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I feel like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. You know, since our son's are besties,” she stuck out her hand and grasped Deans, giving it a firm shake and dropping it before he'd even uttered a word. She turned back to me, her smirk still on her lips.

“Since Levi is coming home with you today - much to Toby's disappointment - how would you feel about him sleeping over tomorrow?”

“Yeah totally, he'd love that,” I grinned at her, forever grateful.

“Great! I'll pick him up tomorrow,” she beamed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before turning on her heels and heading back into the crowd of parents. We'd normally wait for the boys to emerge together, but I know her, and she didn't want to step on Deans’ toes. This was a big deal, and in her eyes, she was the outsider here.

“What was that?” Dean looked at me, slightly stunned with a quizzical brow.

“That,” I gestured to Kat's disappearing figure, “is Kat. She's my best friend, and to be honest I don't think I'd have made it this far without her.”

“Kat. Got it,” he seemed to make a mental note of who she was, catching on quickly that she was an important person in my life. In Levi's life. I grinned at him, perhaps a little nervously before grasping his hand and pulling him with me in the same direction Kat had left.

“Come on, he’ll be out soon, let's wait for him.”

Dean flashed the smallest smile whilst taking a deep breath. He looked down at our hands and I noticed his palms were a little sweaty. He gripped tighter, hanging to me like I was a lifeline as I pulled him through the crowd. His silence spoke volumes of his nerves, so I stopped at the edge of the gaggle of parents, fearing that he would soon find this all too much.

For the whole five minutes that we waited, Dean didn't let go of me.

It didn't take long for the whirring of tiny engines to draw closer and closer before finally stopping, shortly followed by the chatter of smaller, childlike voices. Kids began to filter through the crowd, and it wasn’t long before a familiar outline pushing a small, black dirt bike headed our way. Suddenly Dean pulled his hand away from mine and raked his fingers frantically through his hair, pacing in a small circle.

“Shit…shit- what do I say to him? How do I talk to him? He's gonna hate me-”

“Hey hey hey, calm down, everything is fine! Trust me, Dean, Levi is not going to hate you,” I reached to rub a hand over the back of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex with every deep breath he took.

“I've done a lot of terrifying shit in my life but this really takes the cake,” he dragged a large hand over his paleing face.

“He's an eight year old boy, baby. Trust me, you've got this.”

He sighed before stopping in his tracks, his gaze catching mine with a twitch of his lip.

“It's been a hot minute since you've called me that, sweetheart,” he stepped closer, reaching to touch the small of my back with tender fingertips.

It took a moment for realisation to dawn, and when it did I felt heat bloom across my cheeks.

“I-I'm sorry- it just slipped out- I didn't mean-”

“(Y/n) it's ok! I don't mind,” he chuckled slightly, his nerves seeming to dissipate. The playful glint had returned to his eye for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with something calmer, more serene. His grin lessened, but the warmth in his features remained. “I don't mind.”

I looked up at him, my heart and stomach feeling warm and light as we seemed to acknowledge our own familiarity between each other. It wasn't just Levi that connected us, and I seemed to forget that Dean and I used to be in a relationship. We were more than just a one night stand - we were intimate on multiple levels.

“Hey mom!”

The bubble around Dean and I popped as Levi had crept up on us, crash helmet still equipped and his bike to his side. I felt Dean tense beside me, the air around him practically sizzling with anticipation.

“Hey there, trouble! You had a good afternoon?” I stepped up to Levi and patted his helmet. He nodded vigorously.

“Great! You can tell me all about it in the car,” I paused and glanced at Dean, frozen in place and not taking his eyes off Levi since he appeared. It took a moment for Levi to realise that Dean was even standing there, his focus still on me and his fun afternoon. After a few breaths, Dean tore his gaze away from his son and he looked over at me, his expression heavy with a whole concoction of emotions. I offered him a small smile before nodding.

“Hey, Levi,” I crouched down to my sons’ level, “I have a surprise for you. I'm gonna need you to take your helmet off, ok?”

I saw his eyes light up as he nodded vigorously. Helping him to support his bike, he eagerly tore his helmet off, his short brown hair tousling in the process. He grinned at me, his helmet now tucked under his arm as he waited patiently. I heard a sharp inhale hiss through Deans’ teeth from behind me as he laid eyes on his sons’ face for the first time. I smiled at Levi, taking his smaller, dirt covered hand in mine.

“Ok, so… You see this man behind me?” I tilted my head in Deans’ direction, and Levi followed with his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin unfaltering.

“Well,” I drew in a breath, “his name is Dean. And I knew Dean a long time ago,” there was another apprehensive pause as my own pulse quickened. “Sweetheart… Dean… He’s, well… He’s your dad.”

I watched as the grin fell from Levis’ face, his green eyes widening.

“What?” his voice was all but a whisper, his gaze flitting rapidly between me and Dean, who’d now taken a step closer.

“He’s your dad,” I repeated, reaching up to softly comb my fingers through the front of his wild hair. Levis’ bottom lip started to tremble as my words sunk in, the truth of the situation we were in starting to hit home as tears started to well in his eyes.

“You’re serious?” he squeaked with a sniff.

I nodded, the emotions from my son now bleeding into me, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah honey, I’m serious.”

Levis’ helmet hit the dirt with a thud and in that instant he’d thrown himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his mud streaked face into his shirt. His dad didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, wrapping his large arms around Levis’ shoulders and pulling him into the same crushing hug I’d received earlier today.

“Hey kid,” Dean spoke against the top of Levis’ head, his voice rasping as he choked his words out, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.”

I stood up from where I’d been crouching, now clutching the small helmet that had been flung to the ground. I drew Deans’ attention as I shifted, and I felt like my heart could have exploded in my chest when I saw the glossiness in his eyes. Tears of joy, relief and perhaps even bittersweet regret were on the brink of spilling over, and the soft smile he threw my way said a million ‘thank yous’. The quiet sounds of Levis’ sniffling were what pulled on my heartstrings the most. The boy who loved nothing more than to race bikes, watch movies and talk about cars had grown up without a dad to share those interests with. He’d watched the other kids around him down at the track, their fathers joining in with the activities. Other kids had their dads to play sports with down at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d had a role model who they could admire, always in the bedroom next to theirs. But not Levi. He’d had me, and I did my best to fill those fatherly shoes, but we both knew it just wasn’t the same. There were times when I think it upset me more than it had upset him, feeling like my child was missing out on something so important. But now… now that Dean was here, for however long he was planning on staying, Levi could finally experience the things he’d dreamt of for so long. I just hoped it would turn out to be everything that he’d ever imagined.

I watched as Levi finally pulled away from his dad, his tears having cleaned tracks through the mud on his face. He sniffed one my time before beaming up at Dean.

“Hey, kid,” Dean smiled softly, ruffling his hair with a hand the same size as his head, “maybe if your moms ok with it, we could hang out a bit. Maybe go and grab some ice-cream? My treat,” Dean shifted that smile to me, and I would’ve had to have had a heart of stone to decline that request.

“Of course,” I smiled back, “ice-cream sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Deans’ grin widened, a refreshed look in his eye as he let go of Levi and stepped towards me, taking the helmet from my hands. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. I took everything to not let my eyes flutter closed, to not get lost in that moment, but the familiar feeling of his lips on my skin and scent washing over awoke the butterflies in my stomach. My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he pulled away, stepping around me. He kicked the bike stand back and wheeled the small vehicle forwards, looking at Levi and urging him to come and push it.

“Come on kid, why don’t you tell me all about this beast on our way back to the truck,” he smiled to his son who beamed back, leaping over to him. Dean chuckled slightly as the smaller version of himself burst into conversation about top speeds and engine strokes, and the wide look in Deans’ eyes as he glanced up at me, finally understanding what I’d meant when I’d said they were so alike. And as Levi chatted animatedly to his dad as we walked, my heart swelled as I watched them.

I couldn’t seem to look away as I witnessed Dean gaze down at his son, looking like the proudest father in the world.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 2 - Bruises | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.6k

Trent slumped down next to Noah, running a hand over his hair, his thoughts all over the place. It had been hard enough leaving you upstairs, seeing you so vulnerable, so close. Noah nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Mate, seriously—what is the deal with you two?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s putty in your hands, and you’re practically breathing down her neck. Thought you’d snap eventually but you just keep dragging it out.” Trent let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the couch.

“I don’t even know, mate. I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around her lately, it feels impossible to just… be her friend.” He shook his head. “But Jack would kill me, you know that.” Noah burst into laughter, shaking his head.

“Trenty, it’s been years of this. You’re acting like this tension is new! This is, hands down, the longest and most intense case of foreplay I’ve ever seen. Even Jack’s gotta know by now.” Noah smirked. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty grin breaking through.

“Yeah, but it’s different now. She’s… she’s not just Jack’s sister anymore. It’s like she’s looking at me the same way I look at her.” He groaned and then he let out a shaky breath, feeling exposed for the first time. “And tonight—I feel like she’s slipping, no? Just hard to leave her room after all that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Noah leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “Mateeee.” Trent groaned once more for good measure.

“Bro, you gotta sort this. You can’t go on like this forever.” He clapped Trent on the shoulder. Trent chuckled, a little embarrassed but unable to deny how much he wanted you.

“I know. But I’m just trying to play it smart, you know? I don’t want to hurt her but Jack’s my boy.” Noah raised an eyebrow, laughing harder.

“Play it smart? Just try not to trip over yourself sneaking back upstairs.” He teased. With one last laugh, Trent let himself sink into his thoughts of you, wondering how much longer he could hold himself back.

Another night of drinking to forget came. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest method, but it was maybe the most fun. The club was packed, pulsing with the beat of the music and the energy of people letting loose on a Saturday night. You had dragged Layla along with you to have a fun night out, a chance to unwind and forget about all the stress from the past week. You were in good spirits, laughing and dancing with Layla, letting the music take over. But everything shifted when you spotted him—your sort of ex, a footballer for Manchester United, Josh. If playing for that club wasn’t enough of a reason for you to hate him, he also was just an awful person. He was standing by the bar, surrounded by his friends, looking as arrogant as ever. You tried to ignore him, but it was clear he had seen you too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pushed through the crowd, heading straight for you.

“YN!” he called out over the music, a mocking tone in his voice. “Long time no see.” You forced a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene but you knew this was being done to be rude.

“Hey,” you replied shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and move on. But he didn’t.

“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” he jeered, leaning in closer than necessary. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the malice in his eyes.

“I’m just here to have a good time with Layla,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. “I’d rather not—” But he cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. You were always such a good girl, Y/N. Too good for the likes of me, right? Or maybe you’re just playing hard to get?” He sang in an obnoxious tone. You’d ‘split’ because you didn’t like each other enough. It was sex and that was about it. Josh particularly didn’t like that no matter what, you’d never look at him the way you looked at Trent and so he blamed the split on you. Despite him ending it, it was your wrong doing apparently.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, yeah? Fuck off.” Layla stepped in, sensing the tension. He sneered at Layla before turning his attention back to you.

“What’s the matter, YN? Still pining after Alexander-Arnold? Aye just get it through that pretty little head, he’s never going to want you.” The words stung, sharper than you expected. You rolled your eyes and he didn’t take kindly to that. Even though you didn’t care for him anymore, his cruelness cut deep. Tears welled up in your eyes despite yourself. Josh had never been the kind to hold back, not even in public. You had seen glimpses of his temper before, but tonight, it felt different—meaner, more deliberate. His words were mocking as his fingers gripped your arm with a force that made your skin sting, and as he leaned in closer, his words grew more venomous. "What, are you going to cry now?" he spat, tightening his hold on you. His grip was firm, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to bruise. You winced, trying to twist free, but he only tightened his grip, his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you close to him, he was angry in a possessive way. You could feel the bruise forming under his touch, a dark mark that would remind you of this night long after it was over. You hated how he could make you feel so small, how he could strip away every ounce of confidence with just a few words and a harsh grip.

“Please just stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. You tried to yank your arm away again, but he only pulled you closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He pulled you away from everyone so it was just the two of you. You felt a wave of shame, not just for the scene he was causing but for yourself—for letting him do this to you, for putting up with it, for not having the strength to push him away once and for all. Layla didn’t know what to do. So often you had said it was fine with him but right now it felt anything but. You didn’t know why you even put up with him, why you had let him into your life at all. He had always been like this—aggressive, dominating, possessive,always needing to control every situation, even when you were out in public. It was as if he thrived on belittling you, on reminding you of every perceived flaw, every mistake you’d made. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’ll be nothing without me, know that?” he hissed, his grip tightening painfully. You flinched, the pain radiating up your arm. “You’ll always be nothing.” The tears blurred your vision, and you hated yourself for letting him see you cry. You hated how he still had this power over you, how he could reduce you to this—a sobbing, broken mess in the middle of a crowded club. You hated how he could strip you of your dignity with just a few cruel words and a tight grip on your arm. Somewhere in the haze of your thoughts, you found the strength to pull away. You jerked your arm back with a sudden burst of energy, managing to break free from his grasp. You stumbled back, cradling your bruised arm against your chest, the sting of the fresh bruise radiating through your skin. You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears, your chest heaving with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration.

“I’m done. We’re done” you choked out, the words barely more than a whisper. “I get it. Just let it go, okay?” You whimpered. He just laughed, a dark, hollow sound that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’ll be back, babe” he called after you as you tried to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You always come back.” You hated that you had gone back to him before, that you had let yourself get tangled up in his web of anger and possessiveness. The sex had been good—at least, that's what you told yourself. But he had cheated on you more times than you could count, though you were never really sure if it counted as cheating. Your relationship had always been undefined, a messy entanglement of emotions and misunderstandings. He was hypocritical, a storm ready to explode any time he saw you so much as smile at another man. And yet, there you were, always caught in the crossfire of his jealousy and rage. It didn’t matter what he did, his whole goal was to just have complete control over you and Trent threw a wrench in that. He especially hated Trent. It wasn't just because they played for rival clubs, though that was part of it. It was deeper than football. He saw the way your eyes lingered on Trent, the way your face softened when you spoke his name. He knew there was something there, a connection that went beyond friendly banter or casual attraction. Trent was everything he was not—calm, kind, successful in a way that made others admire rather than fear him. And you—God, he could see it—your feelings for Trent were written all over your face, in the way you laughed at his jokes, in the way you always seemed to find yourself at his side. He resented Trent for being everything he wasn’t and for being the object of your affections. You ootd to keep Josh’s behavior hidden from your brother, somehow managing to mask how fucked up it all was. Jack didn't know how deep your ex’s temper ran or how controlling he could be. But if he knew.. If Jack knew or even his friends knew but probably especially Trent knew… all hell would break loose. So you’d learned how to swallow back the stories, pretending that everything was fine.

“Can you just leave me alone,” you managed to say, your voice breaking.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” He leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Does your brother know you slut yourself out for his best friend? What’s your dad think of that... Being a whore for the boys your brother trusts most… and your mum.. Oh well.. You wouldn’t know what she thinks of her slutty little daughter.” That was the last straw. You hated that you even trusted him enough that he had that bit of information about your life. You felt the tears spill over, and you turned and bolted, pushing your way through the crowd. You needed to get away, to breathe, to clear your head. Your heart was pounding, and your vision blurred with tears. You stumbled trying to get to the back hallway of the club, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Layla had seen enough.

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed rushing over but when she turned to try to follow after you, you were lost in the crowds. Unbeknownst to you, Trent had been at the club too, celebrating with a few of his teammates. He had seen you running, and had noticed the distress on your face. Without a second thought, he followed you, his concern outweighing any questions about why you were there or what had happened. The flashing lights of the club blurred around you, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to spin faster with each passing second. The pounding bass reverberated through your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. You felt dizzy, your thoughts swirling like the flickering neon signs above. The laughter and shouts of the crowd melted into a distant, muddled hum as your vision began to swim. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and unchecked, as you stumbled through the throngs of people. The room felt like it was closing in on you, walls shrinking as the faces around you became distorted, like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one catching in your throat as you fought the rising tide of panic.

You could barely think straight, your mind a haze of confusion and pain. Everything felt wrong—your body, the people around you, the pounding music that seemed to pulse through your veins. You wanted to escape, to find a place where you could breathe again, but everywhere you turned, there were people, faces, eyes. It was too much, all of it pressing down on you, squeezing your chest until you thought you might break. Your legs felt heavy, your steps unsteady as if the ground were shifting beneath your feet. You pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for space, for anything but this suffocating chaos. Your tears blurred your vision, and you wiped at her eyes, her hand trembling. Then, through the haze, you felt it—strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. At first, you panicked, thinking it was someone else, another stranger trying to touch you, but then you caught a familiar scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely comforting.

Trent.

Your body sagged with relief, your knees nearly buckling beneath you as you collapsed against his chest. His arms were solid and warm, encircling you like a protective barrier against the chaos of the club. You felt his hand on the back of your head, gently cradling you as he whispered soothing words you could barely hear over the music. Then for the first time, Trent saw a bruise forming on your arm. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes darkening with anger as he took in the sight of you, your arm marked with the telltale signs of aggression.

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping back before reaching out to gently lift your arm, his touch featherlight but steady. He turned it over, revealing the bruises that had already started to bloom in shades of purple and blue. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened just enough for you to feel his rage simmering beneath the surface. "Who did this to you?" You tried to pull away, tried to hide the evidence of your shame and pain, but Trent wouldn't let go. It was so obvious it came from someone grubbing you too tight, being too rough in a way no one wanted. His hand held yours firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin as if he could erase the marks with a touch.

"Please," you muttered, your voice breaking, "stop." you weakly begged.

"Y/N…" he insisted, his voice low and steady, but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't going to let this go. "Who…" He snapped demandingly. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Trent's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in you attempting to tell him what just happened but he couldn’t focus on anything but how sad you looked, how broken. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as if to shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything that had ever hurt you. In that moment, you felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. His arms were your refuge, his strength your solace. Trent's blood boiled with a fury he rarely felt, his hands shaking with the need to do something—anything—to make Josh, who he knew it had to have been, pay for what he'd done. But then he saw your tear-streaked face, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back sobs, and all that rage took a back seat. His anger didn't matter right now; you mattered. Your body shuddered with each sob, and Trent felt a pang of helplessness in his chest. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright, that he'd take care of everything. He wanted to promise that no one would ever hurt you again. But he knew that words wouldn’t be enough, not now. So, he just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise, anchoring you to the present. You buried your face against his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping you from drowning. The tears kept coming, but they were different now—less frantic, more a release of all the tension you had been holding onto. Trent’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on. The world around you seemed to fade, the thumping bass and flashing lights dimming in comparison to the steady, comforting rhythm of Trent’s heartbeat against your ear. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, calming the storm that raged inside you. In his arms, you felt a safety you hadn’t known she needed—a reassurance that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

“Just breathe for me,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and close to your ear. “I’m here. You’re safe.” You tried to do as he said, taking a shaky breath that caught in your throat. But with him holding you, the air seemed easier to draw in, the panic slowly ebbing away. The tears continued to fall, but now they were softer, quieter, as if his presence was slowly soothing the hurt you felt. For a moment, there was only you—no noise, no crowd, no chaos. Just the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his embrace. Trent held you tightly, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. You stood in there struggling to catch your breath as Trent's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, grounding you in a way that felt comforting and electric all at once. He tightened his hold, his chin resting on the top of your head, and his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. But even as he tried to comfort you, a battle still raged inside him. Part of him wanted to go find Josh right then and there, to make him pay for every single bruise on your skin, every tear he'd caused. The other part of him—the rational part—knew he needed to stay with you, to keep you safe and calm. And then there was the question he couldn't push away: Should he tell Jack? Jack was his best friend, but Jack was also your brother. He deserved to know that his sister had been hurt, but Trent also knew how fiercely protective Jack was of you. If he told Jack, there’d be no holding him back, and things could spiral out of control. Plus, he wasn't sure if you'd want Jack to know—if you'd want your brother to see you in this vulnerable state.

"I got you," he whispered as his thoughts spiraled, his voice filled with a tenderness you hadn't felt in a long time. "I got you, okay?" You felt something break in that moment-a wall you'd kept up around yourself for so long. And when his lips brushed the top of your head in a soft kiss, something stirred inside you, a longing that had been quietly simmering for years. It felt like an opening. Your heart raced as you pulled back slightly, your gaze finding his, and in the dim light, his eyes softened, a silent understanding passing between you. You hesitated, but then, almost instinctively, you tilted up, pressing your lips to his. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question in every touch of your lips against his. Trent tensed, caught off guard, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this so instead, his hands found your waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as he kissed you back, the warmth of his mouth melting away the hurt that had clung to you since your ex's cruel words. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together, like a fuse that had finally been lit. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, years of unspoken attraction finally bubbling over. His hands roamed, his grip on you tightening as he leaned into you, pushing you up against the cool brick wall behind you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt like it was meant to be, like you'd waited your whole life for this moment. God, he wanted this… but not like this. This was wrong. So then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with wide eyes, his expression torn between disbelief and something deeper.

"What...Y/N… what are we doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his fingers still lingering on your skin. The conflict in his eyes was clear, and it sent a pang through your chest. But you didn't care about the doubts racing through his mind. You leaned in again, refusing to let go of this feeling. To remind him how very right this wrong was. The kiss was softer this time, gentler, but just as consuming. You poured everything into it—all the years of longing, the quiet, unspoken feelings, the ache you'd felt every time you saw him with someone else. And for a moment, he gave in, his lips moving against yours like he'd been holding back for years. You could feel him wanting more but then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away once more, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. "Y/ N... we can't. I can't," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry. I just..." He muttered. The rejection cut deeper than you expected, the pain raw and immediate. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you took a shaLay step back, your heart pounding with a mix of heartbreak and anger.

"Fuck you!" you cried, your voice trembling. It felt like the walls you'd let down were crashing back up, each one harder than before. You turned on your heel, ready to escape before he saw you fall apart completely. But he reached out, his hand grazing your arm, as if he couldn't quite let you go. You recoiled, stepping back, your expression a mix of pain and anger.

"Wait," he pleaded softly, but you yanked your arm from his grasp, your heart shattering as you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind with the lingering taste of regret on his lips. Trent’s heart ached seeing the tears well up in your eyes again. You turned and ran, pushing your way back through the crowd, your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t care where you were going; you just needed to get away from him, from the humiliation and the heartbreak. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you fled, but you didn’t look back. Trent watched you go, his heart sinking into his stomach. He wanted to run after you, to explain, to somehow make it right, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He knew you needed space, needed time to cool off. But as he stood there, the guilt and worry gnawed at him. He had never wanted to hurt you, but in trying to protect you, he feared he had done exactly that. The sounds of the club grew louder around him, but Trent felt miles away, lost in his thoughts. He knew he’d have to find a way to make this right with you, to explain himself, and to make sure you knew how much he cared. But for now, all he could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, your absence leaving a painful ache in his chest. Trent leaned back against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Some of his teammates who he was out with came over. They were giving him confused looks, clearly curious about the scene they had just witnessed. From their perspective, he had chased after to a a teary-eyed girl, who then kissed him like her life depended on it, and then, just as quickly, pulled away with a broken ‘fuck you.’ They had questions.

“Mate, what was that about?” one of them asked, laughing awkwardly, unsure how to react to the tension still lingering in the air.

“Bro, was that…” Another piled on cautiously, recognizing you. Trent ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the flood of emotions. He glanced toward the crowd, desperately scanning for you, but you’d disappeared into the sea of people. His chest tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of what just happened settle in. He couldn’t explain it, not to them, not in a way that made any sense.

“Yeah, was Jack’s sister.” He muttered after he took a deep breath, eyes still flicking toward the direction you’d gone. The second those words left his mouth, Trent knew something had shifted inside him. It wasn’t a lie, not really, but it felt bigger than that. It felt like a realization he’d been avoiding for too long. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You were his everything. And the truth of that hit him like a freight train, leaving him standing there, breathless and rattled.

“Fuck, mate. That’s complicated.” One of his teammates whistled, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Trent breathed out, his mind racing. It was beyond complicated. Jack was his best friend, and you… you were the girl who had been slowly slipping from childhood crush to something deeper, something dangerous. He shook his head, his thoughts swirling. The way you’d kissed him tonight, the hurt in your eyes, the fire in the way you’d pulled away—it was like everything had boiled over, and Trent had been too slow to catch up. He’d rejected you, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted you too much. He couldn’t handle the idea of hurting Jack, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But now, standing there with his teammates still glancing at him for answers, he realized that line had already been blurred for a while. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You hadn’t been for a long time. And now, Trent wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise. As the music pulsed around him, Trent felt a shift. He needed to find you, needed to figure out what came next, no matter how messy it got. Because, after tonight, he knew he couldn’t go back to seeing you as just Jack’s little sister. You were more than that. You always had been.

After leaving Trent behind, you had stumbled back into the chaos of the dance floor, your heart pounding and your emotions a tangled mess. You had felt rejected and humiliated, and in a haze of frustration and alcohol, you made a poor decision. You spotted a man at the bar—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing you all night. Without much thought, you walked up to him and struck up a conversation. His flirty smile and eager compliments were a welcome distraction from the pain you felt. When he suggested you leave together far sooner than appropriate, you didn’t hesitate. You just wanted to forget, to numb the ache in your chest caused by Trent's rejection. You told Layla you felt sick and had needed to leave. She knew it was a farce but she also knew she couldn't stop you. She assumed it was just Josh being an ass she had no idea you had just kissed Trent. She called and called to find you; to leave with you but you just texted saying it was all fine. But as the night unfolded and you found yourself in the stranger's bed, you quickly realized how hollow it all felt. The sex was awkward and unfulfilling, a stark contrast to the passion you had imagined when you thought of Trent. You found yourself comparing the man to Trent in every way—his touch, his movements, the way he spoke to you. Every comparison only made you miss Trent more. You knew deep down that Trent would have been different—gentler or maybe rougher but definitely more attentive, more real. Tears stung your eyes as you lay there, regretting your impulsive decision. This was a low. By the time morning came, you left the stranger's place without a word, feeling emptier than before. You hadn’t heard from Trent since that night. Part of you was relieved, thinking it was better this way—less complicated. But another part of you ached for him, for his presence, for the safety you felt in his arms.

You’d stumbled in through your front door just after dawn, your steps heavy and uneven, your head pounding with every movement. Jack was already up, a coffee mug in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin.

“Rough night?” he joked, his eyes barely glancing up from his phone. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a soft hum, barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine. Your shoulders slumped as you shuffled over to the fridge, your body moving on autopilot. The sting of tears was still fresh in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall again, not in front of him. Jack finally looked up from his phone, his grin fading when he saw the look on your face. He straightened up, setting his mug down on the counter, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more serious. You just hummed again, the sound weak and empty. You didn’t have the energy to explain, didn’t want to get into it with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you closely, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his gaze. Jack took a step closer, his concern growing. “You sure?” he pressed gently, sensing something was wrong. “You don’t look so good.” You just shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest aching with the effort of holding everything in. You needed to get out of there, away from his questions and his worry. You couldn’t deal with it, not now.

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a lie, and you knew he could see right through it, but you didn’t care. You needed to be alone, to let yourself fall apart without an audience. Jack watched you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, but he didn’t push any further. He just nodded, letting you go. He knew you knew he was there if you needed him.

“Alright,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But if you need anything...” You nodded, not waiting for him to finish. You turned and headed upstairs, your steps heavy and slow. As soon as you reached your room, you closed the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came. The weight of the night before crashed down on you, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through your chest. The shame, the regret, the confusion—it was all too much. You’d thought you could handle it, thought you could keep it together, but now, alone in your room, it all felt too heavy to bear. You cried until there were no tears left, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. And when you finally stopped, when the tears finally ran dry, you were left with nothing but the hollow ache in your chest and the haunting memory of Trent’s rejection.

You were absolutely mortified. You had kissed Trent. How could you have done something so reckless? You laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling on Layla’s bed at her place, your mind racing in sheer panic. Every nerve in your body felt on edge, replaying that moment over and over. What was worse was that it never happened before, not even close, but something had come over you—like instinct taking over reason—and now you regretted it. Layla shifted beside you, sensing your turmoil.

“Come on, it won’t that bad,” she said in an attempt to soften the blow. You groaned, rolling onto your side to face her.

“No, Lays. I can never, ever see him again.” The words came out in a rush, your voice cracking under the weight of your embarrassment. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“That’s not true.” She told you. You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, your breath shaking.

“It is! I crossed the line. And he… rejected me.” The last part was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud made the sting of it even worse. You felt your face grow hot, the emotions swelling until they spilled over. The rejection was unbearable, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” you said, your voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle. Layla immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close.

“No, it’s not just tiredness,” she murmured into your hair, holding you tightly. “This sucks. The boy you like just said no. That’s a lot to handle, but we move.” You stayed in her embrace, taking in her warmth, but her words only made your heart ache more.

“I’m not even sure if I just like him,” you admitted, voice small and hollow as you pulled away slightly to look at her. Layla’s face twisted in confusion.

“What?” she asked, blinking, and then a knowing look crossed her face as she softened. “Oh no. Babe…” You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears.

“I mean, I do… but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not just like.” The weight of the word hung in the air between you both, unspoken but understood.

“You love him,” Layla said quietly with a frown she couldn’t control, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But maybe right now, the feeling of love is for your friend.” She paused, her eyes full of sympathy. “You don’t need to hurt yourself imagining anything more, okay? Not right now.” You bit your lip and nodded, the tears still threatening to spill over. You were exhausted, heartbroken, confused. You knew you loved Trent as Jack's best friend, as a friend of your own but you had never had an intimate relationship to say you loved him any deeper than that. The thought of those feelings right now though were making you sick.

“But what if I can’t face him? What if it’s too awkward?” Layla shook her head and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll bounce back. Trent’s nice. He’s not going to make fun of you for this or make it weird. You two have been friends for too long for that.” But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sting of rejection. Maybe Layla was right—Trent wouldn’t make fun of you, but things weren’t the same anymore. Not after this.

When Jack invited Trent along with all the other boys over for a movie night a few days later, Trent was hesitant. He knew you might be home, and he wasn’t sure how you’d feel seeing him. But Jack was his best friend, and Trent figured maybe it was time to face the music. As Trent walked up to Jack’s front door, his nerves were on edge. He took a deep breath and knocked, his mind racing with what he might say if you were there. The door swung open, and Jack greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a quick hug.

“All good, mate?” Jack said, stepping aside to let Trent in. But Trent only hummed. He managed a smile, following Jack inside. He glanced around the living room, half-expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the room was empty. “Y/N’s out,” Jack said casually, noticing Trent’s quick survey of the room. “I think she’s been a bit off lately. Haven’t seen much of her.” Trent nodded, trying to hide his relief that you weren’t home but sadness Jack noticed things were off..

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. Jack grabbed a bottle of water and handed one to Trent.

“She seemed pretty fucked up when she came back from a night out but didn’t tell me much, though.” Trent took a long sip of his water, not sure how to respond. Jack and Trent were sitting in silence on their phones only best friends could sit in whilst waiting in the kitchen for the other boys to show up. Trent kept glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the moment you would come home. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to somehow make things right. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of you, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The sound of a key turning in the front door caught Trent’s attention. He tensed, his heart quickening as he heard the door open and close. A few seconds later, you appeared strutting through the house, your face mildly flushed from the summer heat outside. You froze when you saw Trent sitting there, your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice tight.

“Hey,” Trent replied, his eyes locked on you. Jack, sensing the tension, cleared his throat.

“Hey, Y/N. Weird vibe but erm.. Lads are watching Shawshank tonight. Want to join?” He asked, trying to lessen whatever awkwardness just flooded the room. You shook your head, avoiding Trent’s gaze.

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head to my room.” Jack looked between the two of you, frowning slightly.

“You sure? You haven’t been out here much lately.” He cooed gently.

“I’m sure,” you smiled sympathetically at your older brother. You appreciated him caring but this was far from something he could help with. You turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word. Trent watched you go, the weight of your unfinished business hanging heavy in the air. He knew he needed to talk to you, to explain himself, but he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen. For now, all he could do was sit and wait, hoping for a chance to make things right.

You had spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t get Trent out of your mind. Trent, on the other hand, was torn between worry and respect for your space. He had tried to find you that night at the club, but it was like you had vanished into thin air. He didn’t want to push you, especially after how things had ended between you. Still, the thought of your hurt and alone gnawed at him. Trent thought about that kiss everyday and how much withstraint he was having to practice. He wanted to rip your clothes off, he had to stop his hands' magnetic pull to grab your ass. It was a typical movie night—Jack had all the boys over for another film. They’d yell through the whole thing and gossip in a way they’d claim only girls did. You knew the drill by now, but tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen Trent since that moment, the kiss that had turned everything upside down. You tried to ignore how awkward things were between you and trent but you were dying of thirst and you weren’t sure if dying of embarrassment of dehydration would be worse, You settled on dehydration so you moved quickly through the house, attempting to avoid where all the boys were, but Trent wasn’t going to let it go. He heard you try to sneak into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” he called out quietly, coming into the room behind you and taking a few steps toward you. You froze, your back to him, the tension thick in the air. You could hear Jack in the cinema complaining about something, completely oblivious you’d hoped. You weren’t ready for this, not now, not when your emotions were so raw.

“Please, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said firmly, your voice low, trying to keep the emotion out of it.

“Y/N, come on… just give me a minute,” he persisted, his voice filled with a quiet plea.You whipped around, eyes already welling up.

“Trent, I really don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, trying to hold your composure. “Frankly, I’m having a hard time even just seeing you right now, so please,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. You could feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill. His face softened, but he didn’t move.

“I just want to talk. Please,” he said, sounding desperate now, like he was grasping at straws. But you couldn’t do this. Not here. Not with Jack just a few rooms away. You shook your head, blinking back tears, but one escaped anyway.

“I don’t want to talk,” you choked out, your voice shaLay, as the tears began to build along your lash line. Trent stood there, helpless. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do, caught between wanting to comfort you and knowing that he couldn’t—not here, not now. You could see the frustration and guilt etched on his face, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. But you just shook your head again and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, stuck in the mess that neither of you had any idea how to clean up. And the worst part was, Jack was still there—completely unaware of the storm brewing between you two, his heart left open to wounded arguably as much as yours if you couldn’t sort this.

Trent thought about that drunk, tearful kiss at the club every single day. It replayed in his mind over and over, the taste of it, the way your lips had trembled against his, the way your hands had gripped onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you. He hadn't even expected it—had been caught off guard by how much he wanted it too. But then, the reality had hit him hard. The restraint he had to practice afterward felt like torture. It felt like trying to fight a g force the way his hands moved on your body. He wanted to rip your clothes off that night, to give in to the magnetic pull that constantly drew him to you. But he couldn't. Not like that. Not when you were drunk and emotional. Not when it could ruin everything. Now, the moment haunted him, and he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing what to do next. What if you regretted it? What if that kiss had meant something completely different to you than it did to him? And what scared him the most-what kept him up at night-was the realization that he didn't just want the kiss. He wanted more than that. He wanted you in a way that wasn't just about desire or physical attraction. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who you leaned on, who you could trust with all the messy bits of life. But what if he'd already blown his chance? What if that kiss had been the beginning of the end rather than the start of something more?

This tension carried on for days. Neither you or Trent making any further attempts at sorting it. Trent sat at a restaurant with Jack and Noah one night, completely lost in his own thoughts. His fork hovered above his plate, food untouched, as he stared blankly at the table. Jack, noticing how quiet he’d been, shot Noah a look. They’d been trying to get him to open up all night, but nothing was working.

“Mate, seriously, what’s going on?” Jack finally asked, setting down his drink. “You’ve barely said two words.”

“Yeah, you’ve been in your own head all night. Go on.” Noah chimed in. Trent talked nonstop all the time so this was very out of character and it’d been going on for over a week. Trent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure if this was something he should even bring up, especially not with Jack sitting right there. But the weight of what happened between him and you had been pressing down on him for days, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He ran a hand over his hair, debating how to word it without setting off alarm bells.

“Have you ever…” he began slowly, his voice low, “turned down a girl and then immediately regretted it?” He sheepishly asked his eyes, flicking to both boys trying to gauge their responses.

“Nah, mate. If I turn her down, it’s for a reason.” Noah, always the confident one, scoffed.

“Yeah, once or twice. Why?” But Jack, ever the romantic, leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. Trent’s eyes flickered between them, his stomach churning as he chose his next words carefully. He had to be vague, had to make sure Jack wouldn’t catch on.

“There’s this girl…” he started. He hesitated, feeling the weight of his own words. “She kissed me, but she was drunk, so I pushed her away. Now she’s pissed, and she won’t talk to me.” Trent hesitantly explained. Trent wasn’t normally shy talking about women so this whole thing was very confusing for his friends.

“So why did you turn her down if you’re this worked up about it?” Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Because she was drunk!” Trent said, frustration lacing his voice. He looked down at the table, unable to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to be like that.” Jack shrugged, clearly puzzled.

“That’s more than valid, mate. If she was drunk, you did the right thing. Why wouldn’t she understand that?” Trent groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t explain the real reason behind his frustration without giving too much away. The truth was, he didn’t want just a drunken kiss. He wanted more than that—something real, something that wasn’t just swept under the rug as a mistake.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. Noah, always the one to push for action, smirked.

“Next time you see her, just go for it. Easy.” He looked at Trent like he had solved his issue no problem. Trent couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of Noah’s solution. If only it were that easy. He wasn’t just dealing with any girl—this was you, Jack’s sister. It wasn’t something he could just ‘go for’ without thinking about the consequences. Jack, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“Mate, just talk to her. Tell her you actually care about her and that you want it to be something she remembers, not something that happened when she was drunk. Simple as.” Trent’s heart sank. Jack had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what he wanted to say to you, but how could he? How could he tell you that he cared about you—really cared about you—when Jack was right there, completely unaware of the storm brewing between the two of you? He tried to keep his expression neutral as Jack gave advice, but guilt gnawed at him. He was about to take his best mate’s advice and use it to get closer to his little sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and it made his stomach twist. But he couldn’t keep running from the situation. He had to talk to you, had to tell you how he felt before it drove him insane. Noah, oblivious to the deeper layers of the situation, laughed and gave Trent a light punch on the arm.

“Yeah, man. What’s the worst that could happen? You talk, she listens, and you two figure it out, I imagine she’s leng.. Get her in bed. Done.” Noah quipped and Trent’s guilt worsened. He forced a chuckle, but his mind was already elsewhere. What was the worst that could happen? Jack could find out. He could lose his best friend. You could reject him, or worse—tell him that kiss was nothing more than a drunken mistake. The thought made his chest tighten. But Noah’s lightheartedness didn’t calm Trent’s nerves. Jack’s advice, however, echoed in his mind—talk to her, tell her how you feel. Trent knew it was the right move, but the fear of rejection, of ruining everything, loomed over him like a dark cloud. As they finished dinner and paid the bill, Trent’s thoughts were already on what was coming next. He was heading to your house after this. You’d be there. Jack would be there. And somehow, amidst it all, he had to figure out how to have that conversation. As they walked to the cars, Jack patted Trent on the back.

“You’ll be alright, mate. Just don’t overthink it.” Trent forced a smile, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling inside him. Jack’s words rang in his ears, and he knew he had to take the advice, but how? As Trent drove to your house, the weight of everything pressed down on him. He was about to walk into a house where everything could change in a matter of minutes. He wanted more than a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment—but what if you didn’t? What if that kiss had meant nothing to you? You only said you didn’t want to see him… were you just mad. He couldn’t tell. Pulling into the driveway, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He had to talk to you. He had to try, even if it scared him to death

Trent awkwardly made his way into the living room, his heart pounding as he spotted you already seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. You looked adorable and it made him sadder. You were curled up in the corner, your eyes glued to the TV, but he could tell from the stiffness in your posture that you were aware of his presence. The soft glow from the screen cast a flickering light over your face, highlighting the tension in your jaw and the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should sit down. But with a deep breath, he took a seat next to you, careful to leave a respectful gap between you. The silence between you was thick, almost tangible, and he could feel the awkwardness settling over you like a heavy blanket.

“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. You barely acknowledged him, giving a short nod without looking away from the TV.

“Hey,” you replied curtly, your tone clipped. Trent’s heart sank a little at your cold reception. Never in his life had you greeted him like this and it was starting to eat at him but he couldn’t blame you. He knew he’d hurt you that night, and he was ready to face the consequences. He could imagine what he would feel like if you said no to him. Still, the distance between you now felt like a chasm, one he was desperate to cross. He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the show, but he was acutely aware of every small movement you made—the way you shifted slightly, the soft sound of your breath, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Minutes passed in silence, the tension between you unyielding. Trent’s mind raced with what he could say or do to make things right. He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep, but he also didn’t want to let this moment slip away without trying. Finally, gathering his courage, he reached out and gently placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee. It was a tentative touch, his fingers light and hesitant, but it was enough to make you stiffen slightly under his hand. You glanced down at his hand, then up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to upset you that night.” He cooed gently. Your gaze remained on his hand for a moment longer before you sighed, your shoulders relaxing a fraction.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… trying to kiss you. I was drunk and— Clearly that’s not something you want and I get that…” You earnestly and awkwardly were trying to apologize but Trent couldn’t help but chuckle softly, interrupting you.

“You honestly think I didn’t want to kiss you back?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He kept his eyes on the TV, a coy smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, Y/N, it took everything in me to stop.” You looked at him, a flicker of confusion mixed with curiosity in your eyes.

“Then why did you?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. Trent’s smile faded slightly as he turned to meet your gaze.

“Because you were upset and not in a good place. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, especially after what that asshole did to you.” You flinched at the mention of Josh, the hurt from his cruel words still fresh in your mind. You looked away, your eyes downcast.

“He… he said some awful things. It wasn’t great,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s grip on you tightened just a fraction, his touch becoming more reassuring. You sat there, your heart pounding as Trent's words hung in the air. He'd never spoken to you like that-direct, unfiltered, like he'd been holding back for too long. The way he placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact, sent a spark straight through you. Your mind raced to keep up, to make sense of what was happening, but he was already pushing forward, his tone low, serious, like he needed you to understand.

"That kid's a fucking idiot for losing you," he said, his voice tight, almost angry. "Saying whatever he could to make you feel small... he doesn't know shit about you, and you know that. Right?" You nodded slowly, words caught in your throat. It was true-you did know, somewhere deep down. But hearing it from Trent felt different, grounding, and it made the sting of your ex's words fade, bit by bit. Trent's hand stayed warm on your thigh, a quiet promise in the small gesture. You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his expression, the way his brow furrowed slightly with concern.

“You really think that?” You asked quietly, your voice tinged with disbelief. Trent nodded, a small, earnest smile playing on his lips.

“I know that. You’re smart, occasionally funny,” he teased with a glint in his eyes and your lips curled, “you’re the sweetest girl I know, and—” he hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly, “—gorgeous. You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone who can’t see that is a fucking donut.” He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to play it cool, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone else happened to come into the room but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He risked a quick glance at you and saw a soft smile slowly spreading across your face. The sight of it made his own heart lighten, the tension between you beginning to ease.

"Trent.." you started, wanting to say something, anything, but he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of intensity in his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he interrupted, each word sounding heavier than the last. It was like he'd been carrying them around, waiting for the right moment to let them out. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of nerves and thrill rushing through you as his gaze stayed locked on yours. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so it’d be impossible for anyone else to hear, his hand firm on your thigh. "And just so you know... that's not the way you get bruises. Never again. I'll fucking kill him if he ever comes near you." His eyes were dark, protective in a way that felt both comforting and incredibly dangerous. Then, in the midst of the tension, he smirked, the intensity softening into something else, something teasing. "The only bruises you ever get are from not being bored in the bedroom. Yeah?” Your breath caught, your face flushing as his words registered. You recalled telling when you split with Josh citing boredom in the bedroom as a problem but you were surprised he remembered that. Surprised he just said that to you. Before you could respond, he gave you a wink, that same smirk lingering as he stood up and walked away, leaving you stunned, heart racing, and desperate for him to come back.

You laid in your bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Trent. You could hear the low rumble of laughter drifting up from downstairs where Jack, Trent, and their friends were still hanging out. But your thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of Trent and all the moments you’d shared over the years. You closed your eyes and let the images flood your mind. The way he’d smile at you from across a room, a mischievous glint in his eyes, or the way he always seemed to find a reason to touch you—a hand on your shoulder, a playful nudge, his arm brushing against yours when they sat close. You thought about all the times he’d said sweet things to you, little compliments and comments that you’d always brushed off as friendly banter. You tried your entire life not to take the pet name ‘pretty girl’ too seriously, you always thought maybe he said that to every girl but now it felt personal and just for you. Was he talking about bruises in the bedroom in a sexual way, yeah 100% but did he mean that he would give them to you? Leave love bites on you? Your mind was racing. But, lying there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it. Your heart fluttered as you recalled the feel of his hand on your leg earlier tonight, the warmth of his touch and the firm yet gentle way he’d reassured you. You shivered, a pleasant tingle running through you as you thought of all the times his hands had been on you, even in the most innocent of ways. His touch always left a lingering warmth, a sensation that seemed to seep under your skin and settle deep within you, leaving you longing for more. You bit your lip, a wave of desire washing over you. In your longing haze, you wondered if maybe you’d been missing something all along. Had Trent been flirting with you all these years, in his subtle, teasing way but in all seriousness, did he want something? Was there something real to your relationship that you hadn’t let yourself see? Was it more than teasing? The thought sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Your fingers itched to reach for your phone, and before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed it from your bedside table. You couldn’t shake what he said to you, Trent had made it clear-it wasn't that he wasn't interested. Now, you were ready to take the risk, fully aware that all the boys were together. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but that only made it more exhilarating. They were watching a movie in the cinema room, the lights dimmed, everyone absorbed in whatever action scene was playing on the screen. You were upstairs in bed, restless and buzzing with anticipation. You flipped your phone camera to 0.5 to catch yourself at a high angle, tits prominently displayed in your thin bralette, the flash making your nipples obviously visible. You typed out a message, your fingers moving faster than your brain could catch up.

"Is this the appropriate place to get those bruises you were talking about?"

You pressed send, heart pounding in your chest. The silence afterward was deafening as you waited for a response. It was insane you just did this, but you couldn't back out now. A part of you wished you could retract it but there it was… ‘read.’ Trent opened the message, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked, unsure if he'd seen it right, unsure if you had actually sent it. This was the first time you'd ever texted him directly. Sure, you'd always been in the group chats-always flirty in your usual playful way-but nothing like this. The last personal message you'd sent was your order for a takeaway months ago, and before that, it had been something for your birthday and then passport details for a trip that seemed forever ago. A trip you weren’t sure why you were invited on to begin with but it was one where you'd teetered on the edge of something more with him but never quite tipped over. Now you had pushed things over that fragile edge with a stupid text. There was a reason for the limited texts though, because you knew it’d lead to something just like this. Trent swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the image, the words beneath it repeating in his head. He couldn't let the boys see this but he also didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t… but he had to.

Quickly, he swiped out of the message, his phone burning hot in his hand. He shoved the phone into his lap, screen down, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the visual of you barely in that bralette. He felt a slow, stupid grin spread across his face despite his best efforts. His heart was racing, and he could feel the tension building inside him. He knew things were spiraling. He'd always told himself this was a line he couldn't cross, but now? Now, it felt inevitable. Trent moved, his thumb hovered over his phone. He dimmed the screen, adjusted his seat in the chair, trying to play it cool making sure the other boys were none the wiser. His mind was racing, wondering if this was you really finally putting your hat in the ring. And god, if it was... there was no way he could say no. Now, all that was left was his response. Trent took his time responding, trying to be as calculated as possible. You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for his response. The dots appeared then disappeared only to reappear, showing he was typing back, and your heart leaped into your throat. What was he going to say? Had you gone too far? You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a hint of fear. But underneath it all was a simmering excitement you couldn’t deny. You could practically feel the tension building in the air around you. Finally, your phone buzzed with a new message, and you hesitated before opening it, your pulse racing…

•

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Next part - Chapter 3 - Crossed A Few Lines xx

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