#its all i ever wanted from ow and now its gone

[nihilmachina]

I had to recreate the Ramattra propaganda image for reasons.

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 20

MASTERLIST

WARNING: Heavy themes, Please proceed with caution.

For the first time in weeks, the world around Delilah seemed at peace. Floating was a serene sensation, the weightlessness carrying her to a place of quiet tranquility. Free from worry, free from doubt, her mistakes drifted out of reach, dissolving into nothingness. Her mind emptied, her body unburdened. It was as if nothing else existed—nothing beyond the water, nothing beyond the surface. Here, she could not be touched. She could not be harmed. She could not be corrupted. She felt like a child again, safely protected in her mother’s womb, untouched by the world’s cruelty.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat as Delilah bolted upright, air stabbing through her lungs like a blade. Her chest rose and fell in uneven, frantic breaths. For a few disorienting seconds, she couldn’t recognize where she was. Her eyes darted around the dim room, her surroundings coming into focus—the soft lavender walls, the dresser lined with Simone’s carefully placed candles, the faint scent of vanilla in the air.

She was back in Simone’s house. Back in the guest bedroom.

Not floating. Not peaceful. Not safe.

The reality of it all sank into her bones like lead. The weight that had been lifted in her dream crashed back down, crushing her under its familiar heaviness.

She had gone through with it.

The tiny life that had once been inside of her was gone.

She curled into herself, pulling the blanket tighter around her body. She had known this would happen, had prepared herself, had gone to that clinic with her decision already made. Yet, it still hit her like a train. The finality of it. The silence in her body where something had been growing. Would she ever get the chance to be a mother again? Did she even deserve to?

A bitter scoff left her lips. She had sacrificed her unborn child at the altar of her wrestling career, right next to her failed relationship with Andre. She had made a choice. So why did it still feel like something had been ripped from her?

And Josh…

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She shouldn’t even be thinking about him. He didn’t deserve to be thought about. He had made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t his problem. That he wasn’t going to guide her, support her, or even pretend to care.

“I just want you to do what’s best for you.”

Bullshit.

He didn’t care. Didn’t care enough to have an actual opinion, to step up like a real man. He had been so sure when he kept having sex with her without protection, but when the consequences of that recklessness came knocking, he had nothing to say. To her, he had washed his hands clean of it, as if he hadn’t been the one to get her pregnant in the first place.

She blocked him the second she walked out of that clinic.

She wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

All she wanted was to get out of Pensacola, leave this chapter behind, and start over. She was counting down the days until she could be medically cleared and head out to Orlando. A fresh start. A new beginning.

But first, she had to get through this pain. Physical and emotional. She didn’t know how, but she knew she just had to.

--------------------

The afternoon sun was creeping in through the blinds when Delilah finally reached for her phone. She had ignored it for the past two days, but now, as she sat curled up in bed, she knew she owed one person an explanation.

Tank.

She Facetimed him, and after a few rings, his face appeared on her screen. The concern in his expression hit her immediately.

“Delilah,” he greeted, voice heavy. “Been wonderin’ when you was gonna call me back.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “Yeah…sorry.”

Tank studied her through the screen, his jaw tightening. “You look like hell, girl.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “I feel like it too.”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Talk to me.”

Delilah hesitated, her fingers gripping the blanket draped over her lap. Then, before she could second-guess herself, the words spilled out.

“I was pregnant,” she admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper as she gauged the look of complete shock on his face. “I found out after I came back from Vegas.”

Tank remained silent, though the slight widening of his eyes gave his thoughts away. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t say anything, just listened.

She forced herself to continue. “It was Josh’s.”

His nostrils flared. “You said, was.”

“Yes. Was.” She glanced down at her fingernails, suddenly realizing she needed a manicure. “I…I didn’t keep it,” she confessed, her voice breaking at the end. “I couldn’t. Not with everything that's...not with the way he—he just didn’t care, Tank. He acted like it wasn’t even his problem.”

A long silence stretched between them. Then, finally, Tank spoke again, his voice low and laced with disappointment.

“That boy done lost his damn mind.”

Delilah’s throat tightened.

“I been knowin’ Josh for damn near two decades, but I ain’t never seen him be this much of a coward,” Tank muttered, shaking his head. “You ain’t deserve that, Dee. You hear me?”

She swallowed hard, nodding. “I had the procedure two days ago, that’s why you didn’t hear from me.”

“You did what you had to do,” Tank said firmly. “Ain’t nobody got the right to judge you for it. Least of all him.”

Delilah bit her lip, fighting the lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that.

Later that evening, Simone tried her best to cheer her up.

“Come on, girl, you need to get out of this damn room,” she said, dragging Delilah into the living room. “CJ been askin’ for you all day.”

True to her words, her five-year-old nephew beamed when he saw her. “Auntie ‘Lilahl!” he squealed, launching himself at her.

Delilah managed a small smile as she scooped him up. “Hey, little man.”

CJ chattered away about his day, his excitement infectious. Even Clay, Simone’s husband, threw in a few encouraging words.

It helped. For a little while.

But the moment she was alone again, the weight returned.

----------------

The next morning, Delilah was ripped from sleep by the sound of shouting.

Her heart lurched.

She stumbled out of bed, moving towards the window. The second she saw who was on the front porch, her stomach dropped.

Josh.

He was standing there, his hands pressed together like he was praying, looking desperate.

“Man, I just need to see her!” he pleaded.

Simone was in the doorway, arms crossed, face twisted in disgust. “You got some fuckin’ nerve showin’ up here!.”

“Simone, please—”

“Nah, hell nah,” she snapped. “You ain’t got shit to say to my sister now, just like you ain’t have shit to say when she needed you!”

Delilah’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She didn’t know what pissed her off more—the fact that Josh had the audacity to show up here, or the fact that he suddenly gave a damn now that it was too late.

“You don’t get to do this,” Simone hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to be the fuckin’ victim when you was the one actin’ like this wasn’t your problem!”

Josh ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “I ain’t—I ain’t mean for it to be like this, man. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah? Well, too fuckin’ bad,” Simone shot back. “You shoulda thought about that before you left my sister to deal with this shit alone!”

Delilah took a deep breath, then stepped forward, pushing the door open wider.

Josh’s head snapped up at the sight of her. His eyes—damn those eyes—were filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

Guilt? Regret?

It didn’t matter.

“Delilah,” he started with that deep, gruff voice of his, “I tried to reach you, but you blocked me—”

“You need to leave,” she said, her tone cold.

Josh swallowed. “Baby, please, just let me—”

“There ain’t nothing to say,” she interrupted. “It’s done.”

His face twisted. “Delilah—”

“Leave,” she repeated, steel in her voice.

But Josh was stubborn. It was in his blood, in his bones, in the way he carried himself like he never took no for an answer. That Samoan pride, that relentless need to fix what was broken—he wasn’t the type to just walk away.

So, he didn’t.

“Delilah,” he tried again, stepping forward. “Please, man. Just…just come to my place. Let’s talk.”

She stiffened. “I got nothing to say to you, Josh.”

“Then don’t say nothin’,” he pleaded. “Just let me be there for you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Now? Now you wanna be there? After I already—” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed hard, her nails digging into her palms. “It’s done, Josh.”

Something flickered in his eyes—pain, maybe, or something darker, something unreadable—but he nodded, slow and deliberate. “Aight,” he murmured. “I hear you.”

For a second, she thought he might finally let it go. That he’d turn around and leave like he should.

But of course, he didn’t.

“I still wanna see you,” he said. “I know you leavin’ next week. I know I fucked up, baby girl. But let me fix somethin’. Let me take care of you.”

She exhaled sharply, willing herself not to fold.

She hated him.

She hated that he had the nerve to show up now, that he thought he could just throw those eyes at her, all soft and sorry, and she’d melt.

But most of all, she hated that some part of her still wanted to go.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, torn.

Josh stepped closer, voice low. “One night, baby. That’s all I’m askin’.”

She closed her eyes. She should say no. She needed to say no.

But she never had been able to resist him.

Not then.

And not now.

Simone stared at her like she had lost her damn mind.

“Are you serious right now?” Her sister’s voice was sharp, edged with disbelief. “After everything? After what he did, what he didn’t do—you really gon’ go with him?”

Delilah opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure. She really wasn’t. Every logical part of her screamed to tell him no, to turn around and go back inside, to stop letting him have this kind of power over her.

But there was another part of her. A part that was tired. A part that, despite everything, just wanted him. Not to argue, not to rehash every shitty moment of the last few weeks. Just to exist with him for a little while.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Simone exhaled, hands on her hips. “Wow, Delilah.” She shook her head. “You can’t be for real.”

Josh didn’t say anything, just stood there waiting, his dark eyes locked on Delilah’s. He could probably tell she was already breaking, that whatever resolve she’d had was slipping through her fingers. He always did know exactly how to pull her back in.

“You don’t even gotta pack much,” he said, voice low, coaxing. “I got you set up. Everything you need. Just come with me.”

Delilah swallowed hard. He had prepared for her?

She wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

“You really left Raw just to come here?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Josh nodded once. “Soon as I realized you wasn’t gonna answer me, yeah.”

Simone let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, so now he gives a fuck? Now he wanna be here? You ain’t even call her back when she told you she was pregnant, but now you movin’ mountains to see her?”

Josh’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t take the bait. He kept his focus on Delilah.

“Baby, please,” he begged.

And that was it. That one word. The way it rolled off his tongue, deep and familiar, warm in a way she hated to admit she missed.

Delilah sucked in a breath.

She wasn’t ready to forgive him. Probably never would be.

But right now?

Right now, she just wanted to feel something other than empty.

Delilah exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. “Fine,” she murmured, barely believing the words leaving her mouth.

Simone sucked her teeth in frustration. “You really—” She cut herself off, shaking her head like she couldn’t even find the words. “You know what? Do what you want. But he—” she jabbed a finger toward Josh, “—can wait his ass in the car. Don’t bring your sorry ass near my house again.”

Josh held up his hands. “Aight, I hear you,” he said evenly. He didn’t argue, didn’t push back. Instead, he turned to Delilah. “I’ll be outside. Take your time, baby.”

Delilah ignored the way her stomach twisted yet again at that last word. She watched him retreat to his car, the door slamming shut behind him, before she turned and headed inside.

Simone was right on her heels. “You know this is stupid, right?”

Delilah sighed. “I don’t know what this is.”

“You just had surgery, Delilah. You need to be resting, not running off with the same man who left you to deal with this shit on your own.”

“I wasn’t on my own,” Delilah shot back, feeling defensive. “I had you.”

“Yeah, but was he there?” Simone’s eyes burned into hers. “Did he show up when it mattered?”

Delilah clenched her jaw. She didn’t have an answer for that.

Simone scoffed. “Exactly.”

Delilah didn’t respond. Instead, she moved toward her room, her footsteps slow and heavy. She grabbed her duffle bag from the closet, tossing in a few essentials—leggings, hoodies, travel toiletries. She wasn’t even sure what she was packing for. She had no real plans, no real expectations.

She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, fingers gripping the fabric of her bag.

Was she doing the right thing?

Probably not.

But for reasons she couldn’t explain, she was doing it anyway.

--------------------

The near-hour-long drive to Josh’s house was thick with tension, suffocating and inescapable. The silence between them wasn’t comfortable—it was sharp-edged, bristling with everything unsaid. The highway stretched ahead endlessly, the glow of streetlights casting fleeting shadows over their faces. Delilah sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring out the window as if the darkness outside could swallow up the turmoil inside her. She could feel his presence beside her, heavy and unreadable, and it only made her anger simmer hotter beneath her skin.

Finally, Josh broke the silence. “How you feelin’?” His voice was low, careful, like he was stepping on glass.

Delilah turned her head, her eyes burning as she glared at him. “How do you think I’m feeling, Josh?” she snapped, her voice raw with exhaustion and resentment. “I feel like I just had a fucking abortion, that's how I fucking feel. It’s done.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Ay, I'm sorry, a'ight?” He let out a slow breath through his nose, then said, “Guess it is what it is.”

Delilah’s head jerked back slightly, disbelief flashing across her face before it twisted into something bitter. It is what it is?

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking her head as she turned back to the window. “Don’t act like you care.”

Josh sighed, running a hand over his face, but kept his eyes on the road. “Of course I care! What you want me to say, Dee?”

“I don’t know, maybe something that don’t make me feel like I was in this shit alone,” she shot back, voice shaking. “You were so damn passive aggressive in them texts, like you ain’t know whether you wanted this baby or not. And when I needed you to be there for me, you left me hanging.” She turned to him, her expression hard. “You never had a problem bein’ decisive when you wanted to fuck me raw, though.”

Josh flinched at that, his jaw tightening. He stayed quiet for a beat before speaking again, his voice softer. “I ain’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But you did.”

A long silence stretched between them.

Then Josh sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. “Look…you did the right thing.”

Delilah scoffed, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “The right thing?” she repeated mockingly. “And you know that how?”

His lips pressed together like he was trying to choose his words carefully. Finally, he spoke. “’Cause I been there,” he admitted. His voice was lower now, rough with something deeper, something heavier. “When me and Tameka had our first kid, my career was just startin’ to take off. We wasn’t ready, man. Thought we was, but we wasn’t.”

Delilah stared at him, but he didn’t look at her. He kept his focus ahead, his expression dark, troubled.

“I missed so much, Dee,” he went on, shaking his head. “His first steps, first words, birthdays, school plays…hell, you name it, I probably wasn’t there. My oldest? He still looks at me like I’m the reason everything fell apart. Like it’s my fault me and his mama ain’t work out. And maybe he ain’t wrong.”

Delilah swallowed, her fingers twitching against her arms, but she said nothing.

Josh sighed again, rolling his shoulders back like he was trying to shake off a weight. “I didn’t wanna say nothin’ before ‘cause…I wanted you to make your own choice,” he admitted. “But I ain’t want that life for you. You’re young, Dee. You crazy talented. You got a whole career ahead of you. A baby right now? It woulda changed everything. For real.” He finally turned to glance at her. “And you don’t deserve that. Not after everything you’ve been through. You deserve to shine.”

Delilah felt her throat tighten.

She wanted to stay angry. She wanted to cuss him out some more, tell him how much he hurt her, how much his indecisiveness had made everything worse. But some small, treacherous part of her understood. Maybe that’s what made it worse.

She turned away again, blinking rapidly as she stared out at the passing lights.

Josh exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Delilah,” he murmured. “For all of it. On me.”

Delilah kept her eyes on the window, her reflection barely visible against the dark glass. Her throat felt tight, but she refused to let it show.

“I know I fucked up,” he continued, his voice low, almost pleading now. “I do. But I don’t wanna leave shit like this between us. Let me be here for you. Just for a little while. Before you leave for Orlando.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching in her lap.

“That’s why I came back. For you. Like I told you, I’m staying off Raw this week to be there for you,” he said, glancing at her with soft eyes l. “Please, Delilah. Let me take care of you.”

Delilah closed her eyes for a moment, her breath unsteady. She should say no. She should get out of this car, go back to Simone’s, and pretend the last year never happened. But she wasn’t sure she had it in her.

Instead, she nodded. Just once.

Josh didn’t say anything else. But when he reached over and gave her knee a light squeeze, she didn’t push him away.

The rest of the drive stretched on in silence, thick with all the emotions neither of them had the strength to say out loud.

--------------------

THOUGHTS?

Credit to @cosmicdes for the gif.

🏷️: @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @thewarlordsworld

@dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @iguessilikewrestlingnow

@purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @tribalhoochie @wrestlingprincess80

@papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @unfriendly–blvck–hottie

@theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills

@theglamclosetsl @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @crxssjae

@twocentuar @surdelcielo @althegreat33 @alichesmi @eclectic-tee

@joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa��@femdisa

@megamindsecretlair @headoftheetable @brwnsugababe @heauxvibez @christinabae @potatosackk

@raya-hunter01 @lilucey @aisharmi @neverlookatthisblog @dayaimonee @nayys-world

@kianaleani @digidestned @marasdeathnote @msbluehaz3 @4milly

@worldwidehoodrat @ariiaeltheedonn @wanderingreigns @sisinever @jaza23

@wrestlingbaby @amandairene88 @romanreignsbae @li-da-savage @thickbihhwitdagapp

@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @2-muchsauce @usoholic @dontcomplicateit @rihanna0607

@jimingotthajams @happy-princes @nymphobabyyx @authenticallymisfitted @sageispunk

@bxrbie1 @octaviastargirl @skyesthebomb @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @blueki16

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@misslackey @sayyestoheav3nn @dyttomori @dyttomori02 @kat3457

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@shes2real @aldrigmer444 @rose-bliss @jxtina-86 @that-one-anxious-mango

@fearlesschimera @kuromiish @vampygomez @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic @4milly @rollinssection

@disc0fairy @prettybitxhnica @mellybandzz @blveeeeeee @taytropicana @planetch1ld @mayasopinions @tribalchief2112 

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @callmekayd @partypoison00 @originalgeezyy @muzaqueendom @naturally-nikkilynn

[autism-corner]

hm

[7ndipity]

Limbo

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread

A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It’s strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-jun’s apartment.

The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.

He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.

His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasn’t particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. He’d spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.

His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming this week?” You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. “What happened to “I’m too busy being a musical genius” or whatever?”

“I was persuaded otherwise.” He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.

“I’m glad.” You said.

“Didn’t say it was you, I’m just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.” He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Whatever you say, bro.” You relented.

“Yah! I’ve told you not to call me bro.” He complained.

The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since you’d first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.

Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.

Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongi’s friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didn’t pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didn’t come very easy for Yoongi.

There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you should’ve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friend’s jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didn’t really mean anything… Right?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.

Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket, 

All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.

Fuck, he loved you.

He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly can’t breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Mhm.” You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.

He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.

He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.

“I think… I love you.” The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.

For a moment you didn’t move, staring as if unsure of what you’d heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-

The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.

“Yah, you see?! This is why I don’t let you help!” Jin scolded loudly.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Joon snapped back, equally loud.

“How was that not-?!”

The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.

“What happened?” You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.

“It’s just the guys being dumb-asses, don’t worry.” He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.

Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head. 

His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.

What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t say those things to you. He’d fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didn’t even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.

He couldn’t let that happen with you, he couldn’t risk ruining one of the best friendships he’s had in years over some stupid infatuation.

Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.

He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasn’t good for him to ‘need’ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasn’t careful.

He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.

He had to.

For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.

He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.

He hadn’t realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.

He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again. 

His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.

He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.

He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.

Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. You’d given it to him not long after you’d become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. You’d wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. You’d won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.

He’d humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but he’d found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.

Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongi’s bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldn’t make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.

The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.

Hi buddy.” You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongi’s eye. “Hey Yoongs.”

“H-hey.” He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.” You said, still playing with Holly.

He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.

“You wanna come in?” The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.

“So, how’s the new album going?” You offered.

The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project you’d been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken ‘something’ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands. 

It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.

“What?” You asked.

He shrugged.

“You just look happy.” He replied.

“I am happy.” You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.

“I’ve missed this, you, the past few weeks.” You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. “I was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.” You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.

He was silent for a moment, the decision that he’d been avoiding hanging in the air again.

“Actually… I kinda was.” He admitted. “No, I know I was.” 

Your expression fell. “Why? Did I do something-?”

“No no, it wasn’t anything you did.” He quickly assured you. “It was-, it was a ‘me thing’ I needed to figure out.”

“What kind of thing?” You asked.

He hesitated.

Fuck it.

“The fact that I haven’t been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you… as more than a friend.”

Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.

He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.

“Through all of this, I realized a couple things.” He said. 

You waited for him to continue.

 “I could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.” He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable. 

“I hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. “

“Yoongi-” You tried. but he kept going.

“And you can tell me to fuck off and that you don’t feel the same, and I’ll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-”

“Yoongi, shut up.” You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak

“You really think you’re the only one who’s been feeling like this? Who’s been afraid?” You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about if we?... If I told you…” You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. “Why did you say something before-?

“I was afraid,” He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “Afraid that you wouldn’t want this. Or worse, that you would.”

Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Why would that be worse?”

“Because I don’t wanna break this, I don’t wanna lose you” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when you mean so much to me.”

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.

Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Say it,” You whispered, the words barely audible. “I won’t hurt you… just say it.”

For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls he’d built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.

“I love you,” He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. “I love you so fucking much.”

He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly. 

But you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d just been offered the world in his hands.

You couldn’t find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.

The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.

His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.

His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know-,” He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. “Fuck, I want so much, but I don’t know if we should-”

“Don’t hide away from me again, please.” You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t be don’t hide. Show me what you need. Please.”

At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you. 

Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.

His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.

He let out a pained groan. 

“Touch me, god please, touch me.” He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.

There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.

You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.

“Please.” He begged, for what he didn’t even fully know.

You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.

As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.

“Fuck, Y/n, m-more please.” He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.

You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.

”I-, fuck, I’m gonna-” He panted, pulsing in your grip.

“Let go baby, I got you.” 

He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.

“Fuck, Y/n, that was, I-” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.” You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling? We’re just getting started.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[livin4woso]

Not so little anymore (leah williamson x sister!reader)

Summary- reader who is leahs younger sister comes back to Arsenal after a loan spell at athletico Madrid, and it seems that in that time, you've grown more than leah wants too accept.

Your loan spell in spain had come to an end, and it was time to come back home to Arsenal. It was a bittersweet moment for you as you knew you had missed your family and friends, but you're also gonna miss the guaranteed playing time and not being known as leah williamsons' little sister.

Now, dont get yourself wrong. You absolutely adored your sister, but after her recent success with the euros and womens football on the rise, you slowly slipped in the shadows from the williamson sisters to leahs little sister. She was 7 years older than you so she has always had a bit of a protective streak over you and always viewed you to be that small little girl that you used to be not who you are now. An adult.

You were now 19, and after your season long loan, things had changed. Arsenal had practically got a whole new squad with newer bigger players, but they also had sold some players some who were close friends to you. But also you had changed due to athletico Madrid more intense training style and not knowing the language so you found yourself in the gym more often than not you had grown to be quite a force not to be reckoned with on the pitch. When at madrid, you had also changed your position to right back after playing in centre back your whole youth career to be like leah, you now wanted something different or maybe you needed something different.

When arriving back home, you had decided to stay in your childhood home with your parents while mid search for an apartment near the training ground. Driving into the training ground felt weird. It was a strange feeling of comfort but also unfamiliarity as you knew the place but not the people in it, and those you did know had surely forgotten about you in that time you had been gone. You made your way through the grounds with small chats to staff who were quite happy to catch up with you and ask about your time in spain which had left a linger on you due to your tanned skin.

Your arrival back had been a secret as jonas had insisted to make it some social media post to have hype to your return but in all honesty you weren't a fan of the cameras so this was like a worst nightmare suitation. Jonas greets you at the entrance of the fields before telling you to wait about 10 minutes before coming down into training. "Right, girls, before we start the next drill, i need you to get into pairs," he says, knowing the squad is an uneven number. "We dont have enough for everyone to be in pairs," leah says to him " oh right well leah i have a guest coming in 5 minutes if you want you can help introduce them to everyone" he suggested back and leah gladly accepts his offer.

You have finally been signalled by staff. You can go onto the field, and as you walk down to the girls, you see leah stood next to jonas. She has to double take to see if its you because she swears she's hallucinating that your walking towards her " have you missed me or something lee you're gonna swallow a few flys if you keep you mouth open" you shout towards her dragging the attention of your other teamates. " girls im happy to announce y/n is back from loan" jonas states, and leah pulls you into the most bone crushing hug ever. However, this time, you're not the smaller williamson. You're actually a decent size bigger than her, and your arms had grown, and so had your legs.

"Woahh mini williamson isn't that mini anymore maybe we should start calling you big williamson?" katie shouted at you as she almost tried to size you up. "Yeah well a year in madrid paid off and surely im now the better looking sibling" you joked flexing your bicep at katie knowing she'd find it funny until leah cliped you the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?" you asked her. "For being a knobhead now come on, we have new people to meet," she said. She had dragged you around to make you meet people and scoled you if you were a foot out of line it felt like she was trying to be your mother than your sister and truthfully that pissed you off.

You had proved to everyone you could live by yourself at just 18 when you went to madrid, now you're 19 in london and being babied. You loved leah. However, she never knew when to stop pushing you until you break. You could easily get over the throwaway comments of "you're my baby sister man" or when she would tell one of your teammates an embarrassing story. However, this time, she went too far.

Kyra alessia lotte and vic had invited you to come out drinking with them and of course you accepted as it would be nice to be able to talk to them without leah shoving the fact shes you're older sister down there throats. You were having a good time and an even better one when a brunette woman asked you to dance with her. She was in her early twenties, and it seemed the other arsenal girls not fussed, so you kissed her, and she kissed back. " You are so pretty, but im really sorry. i have to go, but here's my phone number you should call me," you said, letting go of her waist and walking back to your friends "Don't tell leah i dont need a lecture on sex" you said to them "we wont" kyra says wrapping an arm round your shoulders as you began to make your separate ways home.

However, the brunette had left a mark on you, more specifically, your neck she had littered hickeys down the side of your neck and well it wasnt a big deal everyone has had one so it didn't fuss you. Yet, coming into training, you were in for it. "Y/n come here" leah demanded "mhm yeah sure" " can you please explain why you have been fucking attacked by a vampire on your neck you're not old enough for that at all !" She shouted in front of everyone, yet you had reached your limit and couldn't keep quiet anymore "leah grow up im not 12 anymore you had no issue with me leaving the country for a year and not one of you bothering to come see me so i dont know why you are so hung up on a hickey on my neck" you shouted back and rather then making the suitation worse you walked out the room slamming the door.

Leah was quick to chase you though "y/n wait please" " what leah i don't want a shitty apology or whatever i just want you to treat me like im your friend not your baby sister who needs protecting i grew up and its time for you to realise it" you said trying to make her understand your frustrations.

"Im sorry i will do i guess you're not so little anymore and i forget that but really you need to stop growing i dont want to be the little williamson" she said breaking a smile and since then you found balance between sister and friends and it was perfect.

[wileys-russo]

Alessia Russo, at an event/party, “I can’t believe people think you’re so innocent and sweet”

a.russo II full of surprises

"you look beautiful." you smiled, chin resting on your girlfriends shoulder as you softly kissed her cheek. "its not too much?" alessia worried, biting the inside of her cheek and smoothing out the non existent creases in her dress.

"never. you're perfect." you promised, the blonde turning her head with a smile and pecking your lips. "you're perfect." she mumbled against them making you smile.

"less we can't." your hands fell to her shoulders pushing her away gently as you felt her tongue slip into your mouth and she turned grabbing your hips.

"we have a little time." the girl grinned cheekily making you shake your head, pushing her away again as she stepped closer. "nothing is ever a little with you my love." you smiled knowingly as she dismissed your statements with a wave.

"when you're in that dress i regret to inform you its actually illegal not to kiss your girlfriend." alessia stated with a formal tone making you laugh. "oh really?" you questioned with narrowed eyes as she nodded and hummed.

"well i wouldn't want to break the law." you sighed, arms wrapping around the taller girls neck. "really all of this is just for your best interest." alessia confirmed as the corners of your lips tugged upward.

"so you have no stakes in it, at all?" "nope, none whatsoever." "god you're just so selfless lessi." "i know, you're just so lucky aren't you?"

you hummed happily at that, leaning up and connecting your lips, hand on the back of her neck as hers squeezed your hips pulling your body even closer into yours.

you made a move first, tongue gliding into her mouth as the two of you battled to dominate the kiss, though interrupted by a fist banging loudly at the door.

"oi you two better be fully dressed and ready to go when i kick this door down in sixty seconds or we're gonna have problems!"

"told you we didn't have time, did you forget we have an audience?" you whispered, tugging on your girlfriends bottom lip with your teeth and a wink, stepping back as alessia groaned.

"you invited them over to get ready here less." "yeah in the spare room. we'll be down in two minutes leah do not kick my bedroom door in!"

~

"do you want another one baby?" you looked away from your conversation with lia at your girlfriends voice, nodding as she pecked your lips, grabbing your empty glass and disappearing away to the bar.

"what?" you blushed a little at the grin on the swiss womans face. "you two are very very cute." lia complimented as you rolled your eyes. "no don't do that! it is nice to see you so happy, you deserve it." lia promised softly, squeezing your arm.

"yeah and now we don't have to hear you moping and groaning and whinging about how everyone is so in love and the world is so cruel and so bleak and-" you elbowed leah in the stomach as she grunted and was cut off mid sentence.

"oi!" your national captain huffed, trying to wrangle you into a headlock. "leah if you spill that drink on my dress i'll smother you in your sleep i swear to god." you warned seriously at the beer in her right hand, the blonde letting you go and pinching you instead.

"ow! what are you four?" you scowled, the girl pulling a face and slipping out of the booth, the entire team out for a night of bonding. you'd all gone for dinner at one of your favorite restaurants first with some of the staff who then cleared off as the rest of you all headed for a local pub.

"babe leah pinched me." you complained to alessia as she returned and placed down your drink. "whose four now? tattle tail." lia teased as you gave her a look. "wally you're supposed to be on my side when she bullies me." you pouted feeling alessia settle in on your other side.

"she doesn't bully you, you provoke her. you have for years!" lia grinned, slipping away and heading off for another table. "i do not! liar." you called after her as she blew you a kiss, leah sticking her tongue out at you from her other side as you flipped her off.

"did you forget we go to camp next week? love unless you'd like to be doing death laps and hill sprints i suggest you refrain from winding up the captain." alessia pushed down your finger with a laugh, nudging your drink closer.

"what did you do this time?" alessia asked, smiling at you over the top of your glass, her other hand settling itself on your leg, thumb tracing circles against the skin. "me? why do you assume i'm the problem?" you accused raising an eyebrow.

"mm because i know you, very very well. i was your teammate for a lot longer than we've been dating, i know all your little tricks to getting under peoples skins." alessia smiled with amusement as you hummed.

"mine included." alessia added on, clinking her drink against yours.

"just a teammate? not even a friend? harsh." you tutted sipping at your drink as the blonde playfully rolled her eyes, both of you missing a few more of your teammates eyeballing you with happy smiles, your recent coupling up quite the hot topic.

"is it wrong i sort of miss when she was injured?" you mused catching leahs eye again as she made kissy faces at the pair of you, alessia giving you a look as you smiled innocently.

"only joking of course. but thank you for my drink, and the last one, and the one before that, and dinner." you recounted, the blonde refusing to let you pay for anything tonight.

"you're very welcome pretty girl." alessia grinned triumphantly, pecking your lips a few times and ignoring katie wolf whistling from a few feet away.

"we're going out for dinner on friday to that sushi place you like and i'm paying." you poked her as she waved you off. "we'll see." alessia hummed with a cheeky smile making you shake your head.

"but no more, for me or you." you started gesturing to your drinks, the striker giving you a curious look as you shuffled a little closer. "why? worried you might get a headache tomorrow? you used to be able to hold your drinks." alessia teased as you only smiled.

"no, we finish these and we're gonna say we're going to the bathroom. then we do a little irish goodbye and head back to your place where i'm gonna sleepover, so i can thank you properly for treating me so well tonight in anyway you want." you whispered in her ear, pulling away and grabbing your drink watching as red started to creep up the taller girls neck.

"i can’t believe people think you’re so innocent and sweet." alessia mumbled, smile ghosting her lips as you shrugged, sipping at your drink.

"butter wouldn't melt in my mouth." you grinned making your girlfriend laugh, your eyebrows raising as within seconds she'd necked her drink and grabbed your hand.

"alessia!" you laughed, barely swallowing the last mouthful of your drink before she was tugging you up and out of your seat with a cheeky grin and a familiar glint in her eyes.

"what? irish goodbyes are usually quick, no?"

[darkenedurge]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐭.

.

CONTENT : Fem/Elf Tav | Subby Rolan, but then he gets a little more confident muahaha | Tail Play | Heated Make-Outs | Messy Confession | Fingering (F Receiving) | P in V Sex | Rip Lorroakan (fuck that bitch) | Creampiiieee 🥧 | Tiefling Tail Head-Canons (ofc)

A/N : i’ve been wanting to write rolan for so long idk why it took me forever but AGH here we are i <3 tieflings

.

Rolan's head is reeling. Thoughts, realisations, spinning within the cavern of his skull. Lorroakan, gone. And, he owes thanks yet again to his 'valiant' hero. To which, he raises his head – lips, parting to speak.

Yet, not even a breath escapes him – not before he's barrelling backward into a bookshelf, hands grasping at his robes, and lips upon his own. Her lips. The lips he'd dreamed of for so long, lips he'd yearned for – yet so painfully denied himself.

Her tongue isn't patient, as impatient as she, winding its way into his mouth with a soft noise of satisfaction. In turn, he whines, hands reaching to grapple at any part of her he could blindly reach – clawing at her hips, drawing her nearer.

She rolls her hips into his, arousal coiling within his abdomen, and he has to muster all that he has to break for air – instantaneous in his mourning at the loss of her lips, her taste.

"What are you.. doing..?" Is all he can manage, in a panted breath, a string of saliva still connecting them – his gaze, hazy with desire, as he peers at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Something I should've done a long time ago," She replies, blunt, simple. Her hand brushes a strand of hair back, away from his face, touch uncharacteristically gentle in comparison to what he'd just witnessed – "I really like you, Rolan."

He almost laughs. In fact, no, he does laugh – a small, quiet huff of amusement. "I think we've established that," He quips, snarky as ever, "But for what it's worth, I like you too. A lot."

A brief pause. His eyes dart from corner to corner. Flitting between bloodshed, books and..

Her companions are nowhere to be found. To that, he internally, mentally, breathes a loud, genuine sigh of relief. She notices, a coy smile playing at her lips, her fingers dipping beneath his robes – fingertips cold, against the harshness of his warmth, bumping over the ridges that decorated his skin. Rolan feels a shiver crawl up his spine, eyes fluttering to a momentary close, as a shaking, uneven breath ghosts past his lips.

“So, are we going to finish what we started?” Comes her voice, Gods her voice, once more – the words purred against his ear, her teeth grazing his skin. He’s unable to swallow the whimper that fights its way out, chest notably heaving, “My ears are s– ahh.. sensitive..”

She hums, hand seeking purchase in his underwear, but lingering just above the waistband – awaiting consent. “I assumed as much,” She murmurs, “Elven ears are only the same..”

“So, I’m your first tiefling?” He asks, voice dipping to a low, rasping hum, as he guides her hand to his cock – hips stuttering as her hand began teasing, languid strokes, thumb paying mind to the ridges that adorned his shaft – alongside bitterly teasing the tip with clear intent. He moans. Pitched, and unrestrained.

“First, and last.” Is her reply, brows knitted in concentration as she peers down at her own working hand, wrist expertly twisting, earning further, mewling whines from Rolan’s mouth.

Rolan’s own, fickle, fantasies paled in comparison to the reality that had now so graciously dawned upon him, his thighs tensing with every pump of her fist.

“So sensitive,” She muses, and his hands grapple for the bookshelf behind him, “I wonder if your tail is the same..”

“Don’t–!” Rolan gasps, but his fragile warning is cast upon deaf ears, her spare hand already pinching the tip of his tail between her thumb and forefinger. He yelps, spilling over her hand with trembling of his thighs.

“Oh,” Her tongue swipes over her fingers, before they sink into her mouth, tasting his seed – “Very sensitive.”

The after-shock of Rolan’s orgasm blurs his vision, whirls his head. So much so that he hardly, if at all, processes her movements – the disappearing of his tail, within the caverns of her mouth, slick with saliva. It’s not until her cheeks hollow, and a spasm of pleasure writhes through him, earning a waned whimper from the back of his throat. “Don’t– I can’t, I– too sss–sensitive..”

Rolan tugs, his tail pleading for exit – her jaw falls slack, brows arched in question. He has to catch his breath, and he does so; though, incredibly unsteadily. Meekly.

“I’m sorry,” His hands, without forewarning, toy with her armour – a silent begging for her to be rid of it, bloodshed and all, “I can’t cum again, not unless it’s inside of you.” She blinks, still and unprepared for the first time since the mere moments ago that their encounter started. Her senses, however, are swift in their return – and she peels off piece after piece, revealing every curve; every freckle, every shred of skin that Rolan could only have ever dreamed of touching, tasting.

Rolan’s robes are much less hassle, and to a silent God he offers his thanks for it. Stripped bare in front of one another, silence offers it’s blanket. It’s her, who moves first, fingertips dancing from his shoulders, right down to his knuckles. He notices the faintest of smiles playing at her lips, adoring in its nature. With a swallowed breath, Rolan outlines her waist, her hips, thighs, ass, with his hands.

“You’re warm,” She states, softly. He hums, and with a sharp pull on his behalf – their bodies are pressed flush. Wordlessly, she’s lead backward – thighs hitting the edge of something hard, sharp, earning an expel of air from her mouth. A desk. Lorroakan’s desk.

With a grunt of effort, she was splayed before him – upon the wood of the desk, his tail wound around her leg, spreading her open with gentle encouragement. His fingers press to her lips, and she understands – tongue swirling, wetting them. With a ‘pop!’, the digits are released – sinking impatiently into her pleading, begging cunt. Rolan gasps, her cunt hot, and tight around his fingers, as they slid, in, out, in, out. He curls them, and her head is thrown back. Thumb, paying mind to her neglected bud, circling it.

“So wet,” He murmurs, not toward her in particular – more so, a thought that had accidentally been uttered aloud. Regardless, he doesn’t regret it. No, her reply only makes him wish he’d said more.

“Because it’s you, Rolan.” She whines.

Gods, he couldn’t wait anymore. She groans, at the absence of his fingers, and he shushes her. “So greedy,” He mewls, “Even when you’re about to get exactly what you want.”

The inside of her greets his cock far differently in comparison to that of his fingers. She clenches, near immediately, and blissfully so. His hips are steady at first, cautious. Until they’re not, her hands finding his in an act of desperation, as his hips piston at an impossible pace – her hips rolling in tandem with his harsh, needy thrusts. Lewd sounds encapsulate the room, skin against skin, raw noises ripped equally from both of their throats. It’s heaven, if such a place truly exists.

Delirious, Rolan barely registers, notices, the premature arrival of his orgasm crawling up his spine, strumming his nerves. A guttural, cracked moan is yanked from his mouth, and he spills inside of her – eyes blown wide. “I’m sorry,” His nose, buries in the crook of her neck, “M’sorry.”

He feels the shaking of her head, light and affectionate, against him. “It’s alright,” A kiss, tender as its pressed to his hair, “I wanted you to.. I’m yours now.”

“Mine.” The word, singular, is spoken through a hidden smile.

[byechristopher]

fuck'em all, but us.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: Hello, little angels. I have been gone for months, but I've been wanting to write something for a while now. Excuse me for the hiatus. However, I still can not promise that I'll be consistent from now on – but i love you still. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: HELLA LONG. This is almost 3.000 words, sweet Jesus. As usual, if you know me, I like writing about dark, angsty shit. Nothing too bad, but you know, mention of fights, blood, smoking, etc.

I caught Chris staring at me again, that same cold, unreadable expression on his face. He had a cigarette between his fingers, as usual. His eyes were like ice, and whenever they landed on me, I felt a chill run down my spine. He never says anything — just watches, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as if I’ve done something to offend him without even knowing it. I don’t understand what I did to make him look at me that way, like he’s barely holding back some hidden resentment. And yet, every time I catch him watching, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really thinking.

I’ve seen him with a few other people. He’s not exactly warm with them either, but there’s something different when he talks to them, a sort of casual ease. With me, it’s like he’s built up walls — high, thick ones, and I’m just standing outside, banging on the gates. And every now and then, I think I catch a glimpse of something behind them, something vulnerable and unexpected, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

Chris was my older brother's closest friend, and he has been ever since they were little kids. No one ever got as close to him as my brother did. Whereas when it came to me, he was rather cold; I never understood why.

My thoughts were roughly interrupted by my brother's hand, which took a strand of my hair and pulled on it to annoy me.

"Ow, you fucking asshole!"

"Hey, wake the fuck up. I said me and Chris are leaving." I rolled my eyes and looked at Chris one more time, seeing that he still had that same look on his face.

Deciding to ignore it one more time, "yeah, bye. God." I said and grabbed the remote to switch on the TV.

I didn’t want to watch anything in particular; I’d just rather avoid looking at my brother’s best friend once again.

"Where the hell are you?"

A notification popped up and before I read the sender's name, I already knew it was Fred. My ex.

Of course, I ignored it, but deep down, I knew he was losing it. Ever since we broke up, he’s been acting stranger and stranger — showing up at places he knows I’ll be, sending messages that alternate between apologies and accusations. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants me back or wants to make me regret ever knowing him. I kept telling myself he’d get over it eventually, that he just needed time. But lately, his behavior had me on edge, and I began wondering if he’d ever really let go.

I’d never go back to him; that’s something I’m certain of. He crossed too many lines, left too many scars I can’t forget. But now, it’s like he’s everywhere—lurking just out of sight, always one step behind me. I feel his presence even when he’s not there, a constant, heavy reminder that he’s still watching, still obsessing.

I’ve started checking over my shoulder more often, catching myself dreading the sound of my phone vibrating with yet another message from him. I tell myself it’s just paranoia, that he’s all talk and no real threat. But some small part of me can’t shake the fear that this time, he might actually be out of control.

And I was right to be cautious. Because he finally crossed the line I’d been hoping he’d stay behind. When I got home, my stomach twisted as I saw it; my car, with its tires slashed and a deep scratch running along the side. It was unmistakably his work; I’d ignored his messages, blocked his number, and now he was trying to force my attention.

My hands shook as I took in the damage, a mix of anger and dread flooding through me. How could he stoop this low? He knew that car was everything to me, the one thing I’d saved for and bought on my own. The memories of late nights spent driving to clear my head, the freedom it gave me — he’d tainted all of it in a single, desperate act. I wanted to scream, to call him and let him know just how furious I was. But I knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

He wanted a reaction, wanted me to feel trapped and afraid, wanted to pull me back into his twisted little game. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I took a deep breath, locked my jaw, and stared at my car.

"What.. the fuck is that?" My brother's voice echoed in my ears and I turned around to see that he was with Chris.

"Fred. Fucking Fred." I screamed, not able to contain my anger.

"That bastard.. I will fucking kill him." He said and got closer to the car to see the damage, "calm down" was what Chris said to him.

Chris looked shocked and angry, he walked towards me, "this motherfucker lives nearby?"

"Yeah… just a few blocks away." I sat down on the ground, pulling my legs to my chest and hugging them tightly. I looked up at Chris, my voice trembling, "that was my fucking car..." a tear slipped down my cheek, and in that moment, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Chris clenched his jaw, and I felt a rush of warmth as his hand reached down to cup my cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, and completely disarming. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held me like that, with such tenderness. He looked down at me with a promising expression, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll see what I can do about your car. I might have a friend who can fix it.”

His thumb brushed softly against my skin, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, a strange mix of comfort and something deeper. The way he touched me sent a shiver down my spine, pulling me out of my anger for just a moment. In such a chaotic moment, I couldn’t help but think it was nice seeing him like this for once. I stayed silent and leaned into his hand, seeking that warmth, desperate for a distraction from the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

I was rather quiet the following days – I didn't want to go out of the house much. Not because this asshole scared me with what he did, but because that car meant a lot to me. Me and my brother lived by ourselves, and that car was the only thing I could call my own. Fred would pay and I'd make sure of that.

I was alone in my room getting ready for work, trying to drown out the chaos of the previous days when I heard the front door slam shut. My heart raced with curiosity and unease. Just as I was about to head downstairs, my brother’s voice boomed through the house, cutting through the silence, “what the hell happened to you?”

I sprang to my feet, instinctively rushing toward the sound of the voices. As I reached the living room, I froze at the sight before me. Chris was leaning against the wall, blood dripping from a cut on his eyebrow and cheek, and staining his shirt. My brother stood in front of him, fists clenched, a mixture of concern and fury etched across his face.

“Chris, what the actual fuck!” my brother exclaimed, his voice a mix of anger and worry. Chris turned his gaze toward me, and in that moment, everything else faded. Despite the blood and bruises, there was a softness in his eyes that held me captive, a silent plea that made my heart race.

“I’m fine,” Chris replied, though his voice was strained. He shifted slightly, not even a single emotion of fear, or pain, nothing. If anything, he had a pleased expression on his face, I could almost make out a smile. My brother continued to glare at him, demanding answers, but Chris seemed unwilling to give them to him.

“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer, my heart pounding. Chris’s gaze flickered back to my brother, and for a brief moment, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. I could sense that whatever had happened involved more than just a simple altercation, and the tension in the air was thick with unspoken words.

"Nothing happened. I just shouldn't have gone to Mike's. There was another fight and I got involved." My brother seemed to know what he was talking about, because his whole body language changed, softened.

"I told you, asshole. You should never go to Mike's. This bar is a shithole." He went off to the kitchen, probably going to grab something to clean the blood.

I walked closer to Chris, my sweaty fingers digging into my leather bag. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trembling as I brushed against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin contrasted by the coolness of the blood that trickled down from the cut above his eyebrow.

“Chris,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, my heart racing. “Does it hurt a lot?” My fingertips lingered on his skin, tracing the line of the wound as if I could somehow erase the pain with my touch. His eyes locked onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them — vulnerability, frustration, and a glimmer of something deeper that sent shivers down my spine.

He winced slightly at my touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into my hand, a subtle gesture that felt almost intimate in the tense air between us.

“Not much.” he said, his voice low and rough, but it was the way he looked at me that stole my breath. There was a rawness in his gaze, as if he was baring a part of himself that he’d kept hidden, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my thumb brushing lightly over his jawline, searching his eyes for reassurance. The moment felt suspended in time, a fragile bubble where nothing else mattered but the two of us. His expression softened, and I could see the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the pain.

“I will be,” he replied, his gaze steady and unwavering, filled with a mixture of gratitude and something that felt like longing. It was as if, in that brief exchange, we shared an unspoken promise — a connection that transcended the chaos around us. My heart raced, and for the first time since the chaos began, I felt a sense of calm in the storm.

Having to go to work and leave him like this pained me, but I had to go, "I have to go to work.." I explained.

"Mhm. D'you want me to take you to work?" He said and I sighed.

"No. Of course not. Stay here, with my brother. I'll see you.. later." I nodded my head and said goodbye one last time before leaving.

The night air was cool against my skin as I walked home from work, each step feeling heavier than the last. The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, illuminating the shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly in the darkness. My thoughts were consumed by what had happened — I couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, bloodied yet resilient, leaning into my touch.

My heart raced at the memory, but alongside it was a gnawing concern. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? It was like him to end up in trouble, but I'd never actually see him like this.

As I approached my apartment, a sudden impulse gripped me. I didn’t want to go home and drown in my thoughts; I wanted to see Chris again. I needed to know he was okay, to check on him in a way that felt more personal than just a casual conversation. With each step toward his place, a mix of anxiety and anticipation bubbled within me.

I turned the corner, the familiar path leading me to his apartment building. The windows were dimly lit, casting a warm glow that made me feel a little lighter despite the weight of everything else. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was overstepping or if he’d even want to see me after everything that had happened. But the thought of him alone, nursing his wounds and possibly replaying the day in his mind, pushed me forward.

I climbed the stairs, my heart pounding louder with each step. When I reached his door, I raised my hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway. What if he wasn’t ready to see me? But as I waited, I couldn’t help but hope that he’d open the door, that he’d let me in — not just to his apartment, but to whatever was going on in his life.

"What.. are you doing here?" He furrowed his eyebrows, a little band-aid covering the wound on his eyebrow now, a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry, Chris.. I couldn't.. stop thinking about you. I mean.. what happened to you.. today." I was nervous, I couldn't quite understand why.

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let me in, and of course, I wasted no time. I sat down on his couch and he sat down beside me. So many years of knowing him, and I've never actually been inside his house, so I took a quick look around, trying to take in everything I could.

"I'm fine. I told you." He insisted and sipped from his beer that was on the coffee table, his cigarette nearly done now.

"Your cheek is swollen, you didn't even bother putting some ice on it. Geez." I huffed and got up to go to the kitchen, opening the freezer and wrapping some ice cubes in a towel.

I walked back to him and sat closer to him, cupping his cheek and gently pressing the ice on his other cheek. Only then did I realise how close we were, I could feel his breath fanning over my lips, his dark blue eyes staring into mine.

"My fiend. Zack. He will help you with the car." He whispered and I whispered back, "thank you.. so much."

The sight of him so vulnerable, the blood still seeping from the cut and the way he tried to mask the pain, made something deep within me stir. I forgot about everything else — the fight, the worry, the uncertainty of where we stood. All I could focus on was him and the way he looked at me, those fierce eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something more that made my pulse quicken.

I could see the way he held back a flinch, how he tried to remain stoic despite the pain. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, a flush of desire that surprised me. I wanted to kiss him, to close the distance between us and erase the hurt with something softer, something intimate.

As I leaned closer, his gaze flickered to mine, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Chris,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I hesitated just inches from his face. I could sense that he was just as caught up in the moment as I was, his eyes darkening with something that mirrored my own feelings.

Then, before I could overthink it, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both afraid of what this moment meant. But as I felt him respond, his hand gently cupping my neck, deepening the kiss, I knew I had crossed a line that I never wanted to return from.

The kiss was hungry, needy. I needed to catch my breath. As we pulled away for a breath, my heart raced, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions, “this is so wrong..” I whispered, my forehead resting against his.

“I know,” Chris replied, his voice thick with desire. He searched my eyes, a mix of guilt and longing swirling between us, "I cant stop now.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I breathed, feeling the warmth of his body so close. Yet I leaned in again, capturing his lips with mine once more.

He pulled back slightly, looking conflicted, “what if your brother finds out?”

“I don’t.. care right now,” I admitted, my hands threading through his hair as I kissed him again, the heat of the moment overwhelming any reservations I had, “I just want to be here with you.”

“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured against my lips, his breath mingling with mine, “but I do.”

“Me too,” I confessed, pulling him closer, lost in the moment, “I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with intensity, “don't think about anything else.”

With that, we dove back into the kiss, the world outside fading as we lost ourselves in each other.

As I left Chris's apartment that night, a rush of exhilaration filled me, and I realised that the unexpected had happened; my ex hadn’t reached out at all since the incident with the car. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

A few days later, while I was passing by my brother's room, I heard him talking on the phone. Curiosity piqued, I paused outside the door, trying to listen in.

“I can’t believe you did that, man,” my brother said, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration, “how did you even find his place?”

“This bitch peed his pants when he saw me.” Chris replied, his voice low but amused, “it wasn't that hard, just had to ask around.”

Something shifted inside of me, realizing that Chris had taken matters into his own hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was planning on destroying his car instead", my brother said.

“But I wanted to,” Chris replied firmly, and I could hear him chuckle at what my brother said next.

I stepped back, my heart racing. So, it was Chris who had put an end to my ex’s harassment. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I knew then that my feelings for Chris were deeper than I had allowed myself to acknowledge, and knowing he had my back made me feel safer than ever.

I found myself running back to his apartment again, right then and there, running up the stairs of his building as if someone was chasing me. I knocked on the door, loud enough for him to open it quickly, worry written in his eyes.

"What–"

And this time I didn't let him finish. With tears in my eyes, I pressed my lips against his and lost myself in his arms.

⠀

⠀

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[netherfeildren]

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 

These are the things he asks himself. 

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! reader <3 pt. 2

Yuppp, this is the part two of my previous post <33 but this time she'll be meeting the rest of the batboys and kon! (reminder she has met some of them even from before!!)

if you get into the 'terry mcginnis' part and is confused on who he is, watch batman beyond bc hes the new batman and its sooo good and hes underrated <3

Anywho here it isss

BIG warning: this may more or less have the same amount of clownery as the last one so prepare my sweets and also my brain is fried so some parts might not make sense but i tried😔💔 please repost to support me i spent sm timee 😭

tim drake aka 'red robin':

Also one of your most biggest and creepiest faithful fans that you've ever had in your stream!

Hes a frequent donor AND victim to your relentless charms just like jason and dick.

Has met you before you decided to even become a cam girl, as you two both go to the same school AND classes too 🥰 (he may or may have not gotten bruce to manipulate the principal or some higher up into changing classes...)

he's like a lovesick highschool student who developed a crush, but this time more extreme.

While you on the otherhand, saw a weird looking boy staring at you with the most fullest smile you've ever seen. toothy, cheshire grin, and all-- (he ran away almost IMMEDIATELY when you saw him)

(...you also chased after him when he ran 💀 he was shooked, but stops once your hand grabs his shoulder and you ask him who he was)

"You >:D i saw you looking at me, who are you >:)"

...my, he never knew you were this bold... you really need to stop being so cute or your further fueling his delusions i swear--

You shake him. "Ow- okay-- my name's Tim--"

You then smile and drag a stunned but intrigued timothy with you.

...Are you perhaps some social butterfly, darling?...

From that moment on, tim's interest in you increases and a friendship between you and him bloomed! Hes so proud of himself for making the first move even though you did it first...

(Again, dont ask how darling lives in bludhaven, but meets tim and jason whose in gotham 💀 either think of her as having teleportation powers being the reason for the frequent back-and-forths or tim being so obssessed, he moves in bludhaven just to see reader--)

When i said creepy, i said c r e e p y. Even worse than klarion, thaddeus, and even dick who i said before was on another level 😦

Tim is both sweet, nervous, and shy... or at least, is how he shows himself for you.

he must look decent for you or how else would he make you reciprocate his feelings?

He's capable of changing in a blink of an eye so anybody who isn't his beloved, dont test him, okay? <3

He sits in the back with darling in class. In the back. You heard me.

Normally he'd be in the front to be able to see and listen better, but darling is a slacker so--

He sighs, looking at his rushed and poorly written notes. He doesnt even know what the topic is anymore, and it kinda looks like hieroglyphics--

Meanwhile, you on the otherhand, was cooking instant noodles with the others... with a pot AND a stove... D: (he loves you but damn he wants to cry rlly bad on how screwed you two are--)

As for the part where he finds out about your part-time job as a cam girl, this man was seething.

No honey, not at you, but at your parents-- how could they let their beautiful daughter do this?! Do they even care?!-- oh? What was that, darling?... Your parents were gone? i guess that explains it...

proceeds to feel bad for you, and wishes to look after you. But you being you, you remain so hardheaded. Why cant you let him love you?? why cant you quit that stupid job?! >:( (hes a bit hypocritical on this one since he literally donates thus further fueling you to go on)

Sigh... nevertheless, he realizes a bit that he can't persuade someone like you for now, so he donates in your live like the good friend he is...

Yeah, 'good friend'...

In the darkness of his room, he watches with unblinking eyes the way your body moves on his screen. You look so enticing, the way a bit of pink colors your cheeks, how every moan you give were light and breathy... simply fantastic. He sighs.

"Oh baby... what am i going to do with you?... <3"

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 38% for nuisance, 70% for humor (80% as red robin)

⋆˚✿˖°

conner kent aka 'superboy':

Ah yes, another top donor and one of your most perverted watchers out there.

Cocky, rebellious, womanizing... doll, you're just another girl for him to use in order to piss off tim since he loves pushing that man's patience so much.

Has probably met you through him too, as this man follows his best friend that has been, in his eyes, acting a bit too strange lately.

And he now knows why. You.

thinks you're absolutely adorable. the way you act out of impulse to the way you speak so brazenly to him, intrigues the kryptonian so much.

Hm, your going to be so much fun to play with <3

But unfortunately, the boy of steel did not know who he was up against.

"...Doll, what did you just say?--" it was 8 at night and he was in his best attire holding a bouquet of flowers. Not just your average red roses, but a well-thought out blend of daffodils, carnations, and tulips. just for you.

But right now, you're breaking his heart.

"Yeah Kon, i love you but no. i'm not dating you. Sorry."

...you don't have the right to say you love him.

"a-and why can't we date?--" he was so confused, these months spent trying to court you, all wasted.

"erm... im not interested, kon. yeah you're hot and you support me and all, but im gonna be honest with you... you're not my type. and plus..."

he feels his heart break even more when you continue.

"...I'm interested in someone. I've known them for so long Kon, and i would hurt them if i get with you."

...

"...sorry." you run away.

things with kon has never felt the same since. he no longer visits tim just to see you, only him. he ignores you too, not even a single glance being spared. but you swear you could feel cold blue eyes watching your figure sometimes...

...and then that happens. you see a message notification from him. conner.

'im sorry if i made things awkward between us. forgive me, doll? :('

your thumb hovered whether or not to answer. you made your decision.

'kay. wanna play dti? :3'

he's so glad you cant see him right now... crying pure tears of joy, and complete relief that you took the bait.

'okay :)'

just because he got rejected by you once that doesnt mean he's immediately gonna back down <33 and about that boy you like, who was it? can't you tell him and he'll give a quick visit to the very lucky guy...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 49% for nuisance, 80% for humor (95% as superboy)

ᯓᡣ𐭩

damian wayne aka 'robin':

...knows the guy that you like.

he's genuinely angry at you, but mostly at your taste.

seriously, him? why not him instead...

frequently donates money and is also very dedicated in line.

(to save you trouble, most of the batfam is a big fan to you and are often your biggest donors. they wish to stop you from pursuing such a... scandalous, line of work but cant help but further support you the more they give money and get addicted to the content you make 😞💔)

discovered you on accident when a certain someone, *cough* tim, *cough* left their computer on without closing the tabs.

you cannot simply imagine the sheer shock that painted his face during that time, seeing someone, you, getting it on with another guy that seems all too familiar.

...and he cant help but get angry. (you'll all understand soon enough why he and kon hates reader's man and possible bf sm 😭)

meeting you face to face... thats a whole situation. tim immediately regrets bringing damian to see you because this man already went off on how much of a 'hoe', you are.

you can take a lot of things, but this boy rubs you off wrong.

"seriously, drake? your new friend is a prostitute? you drew the line making friends with that kryptonian clone, but this takes the cak--"

*slap.*

...that hurts. damian's hand slowly makes its way up to his cheek, where the red was starting to spring.

he looks at you like you were mad. you are, thanks to him. "...you... you little---"

he was held back by an angry but calmer kon despite being also insulted, whilst tim holds you comfortably.

"hey don't listen to damian over there, alright? :( he's just a bit--"

"I'm speaking facts here!-- hmpfh!" a hand covers his mouth.

"seriously tim, does he ever shut his mouth?" kon says.

he huffs. "no. and that's why i was considering bringing duct tape earlier, Kon."

...okay, maybe his first impression forever got him labelled as a bitch in your eyes, but damian tries to make it up to you in any way he can since he actually finds you decent after getting to know you. (think of those asian parents that after scolding you till you cry, they give you food but instead money in damian's version)

"...ahem."

no response.

"...AHEM."

you finally look up at him, and a bag was thrown straight at your face. "you stupid ass-- wait a minute." you look inside the bag and it was filled with... money.

you look up at damian, only to see his figure quickly dashing off and hide behind a wall where he would secretly try and take a peek for your reaction. you smile and give a thumbs up.

"...you aren't that bad, but try shutting your mouth most of the time, okay? :3 <3"

...the green in his eyes glinted... and he scoffs. typical damian wayne.

"...sure, prozzy-- HEY STOP CRYING--"

fierce but protective. rude but caring. that is what damian is towards you.

and that is how he'll always be as long as that man is around...

"i'll be with you. and i shall do everything in my power to ensure you do not end up with him!--" too late.

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 25% for nuisance, 78% for humor (89% as robin)

ִֶָ࣪☾.𔘓

terry mcginnis aka 'batman beyond':

...is the man that kon, damian, and the others have beef with.

how he's part of the main timeline in this is that all of the events before batman beyond happens earlier. (i also tweaked a few things in canon here so dont mind me)

terry's dad died before the entire 'Powers' situation, leading to Terry living with his mom earlier.

...terry also suffers from something.

at a young age, terry cannot feel any sort of emotions. remorse, empathy, such things were removed from him. he could only feel empty, comparable to having a large gaping hole inside his chest instead of a beating heart.

the boy ponders why he was cursed with such a thing, and why he could only feel pity and sadness. just a little.

...he thought he was unsavable. until--

his eyes lands on you, the girl who was playing on the playground's swing. (note: darling used to live in gotham as a kid)

...he gulps. pretty...

"you there, what's your name?" you asked. always the first one to make a move...

...and you sound nice.

"hm? well? :3"

...he decided to speak. "...terry. i'm terry... you?..."

you smile. "they call me (name), pretty right?" he could only nod. yes, it was very pretty...

i think everybody could guess how things go from then on.

he meets you, grows up with you, falls in love with you, and in the end lives happily with you... if only it weren't for his tendency to maim just about anyone who gets near you.

he's a dog, honey. but he's your rabid, vicious dog.

by the time he grows up, he's learned how to hide what he truly is from you, and the terry that we all come to know and love is now here.

charming, witty, humorous... terry mcginnis is nothing but an amorous boy for you... and you love it. (u match his freak sm)

in his eyes, you two are together <3 and its not even a lie you two are but you're too much in denial since you firmly believe he deserves better :( (tho thoughts like that dissapear when he and you yk ;))

absolutely hates it when you spend time with anyone, especially with his adopted siblings. dick, jason, tim, and damian? fuck no. (if you read the batman beyond comics, those two despise each other--)

...so expect those two to be at each other's necks.

and about the cam girl part, yup, this man knows. and like tim, he tries to persuade you to stop. you're a complicated person, he knows. either for money or fun, you do crazy shit like this every time... but this one's really serious.

"...look at me." you obey, eyes staring back at ocean blue ones. terry's eyes were always so pretty...

"...hehe, pretty eyed as ever, mcginnis..." and he can't help but smile slightly at your words.

"..." damn you, really. his soft spot for you is huge, and 99% of the time, you get off the hook easily.

in the end, he might have allowed you to do this... 'artist' stuff, but on one condition:

he gets to f*ck you on some parts.

you blink, cheeks starting to redden. "...what--" and just like that, your fate is sealed <3

...currently, you were on Live. the rest of your boy toys watched with envious yet very heated gazes as your pussy was getting demolished by his dick. the close up shots were so unnecessary, the way he roughly pummels into you was so--

'$10000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'GR4YS0N_68: ugh yea terry ruin that little bitches cunt'

terry grins, feeling you getting closer. the position you and him were in was perfect, babe... perfect for a pic.

his strong hand gently but firmly grabs your jaw, making you face the camera.

he whispers to you so closely."smile for the camera, sweetie."

you oblige, a broken smile on your lips. the stream abruptly ends.

no need for the public to know what you both are doing in private anymore...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 0.0001% for nuisance, 90% for humor (100% as batman beyond)

(finally its finished 🤕 i have so many unfinished works huhu....)

(update: ill also try editing this too <3)

[incorporealbombchelle]

The Wife Of A Close Friend

Daniel Cleaver × Fem!Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Part 1 - One Christmas Eve, while Mark is stuck at the office, Daniel Cleaver pays (y/n) a visit...

⚠️TW: Cheating, Mild Daddy Kink, Mild Dirty Talk, Manipulation, Sleaziness, Raw P in V Penetration, Carly Simon, General Smut.

The house phone rings out, shrill and I pick it up "Hello?"

"Hello, (y/n). When's hubby due home?" Daniel, my husband Mark's best friend.

"Daniel, hi. Mark said he'd be back closer to 6pm. Do you two have plans tonight?"

"I'll be there in 10. Wear something appealing."

"Its only two, why would you-" click.

Asshole.

I hang up and a little over ten minutes later the doorbell rings. I open it to a smiling, if fatigued, Daniel Cleaver. He's flushed, breathing hard as he runs a hand through his hair. Today he's wearing a linen button down and jeans under his coat and if I wasn't constantly on the verge of wanting to kill him, I'd say he looks good. Great, even.

"Did you run here?"

"Did I run here? Will there ever be peace in the middle east? Are you wearing panties? These are all very difficult questions, (y/n), I propose we start with the panties and work backwards," he wheezes

"Watch it-" I warn

"You're right, I'm awful, we should talk it out over drinks,"

I roll my eyes and he nods into the foyer, pushing past me.

"Oh, won't you come in." I plead flatly.

I step aside, closing the door to follow behind as he saunters into the kitchen, plucks a beer from the fridge and discards his coat over the counter. His eyes leer over me as he takes a swig of his drink.

"Does Mark know you traipse around the house in these skimpy little dresses while he's at work?"

"It's Prada, for your information and it is not skimpy..." I tug the hem of the mini dress as low as I'm able to, but it refuses to support my assertion and I feel myself redden some.

He smiles devilishly and turns away for a moment, teeth catching his lower lip as he does. "Right," he scoffs, amused at my expense.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this midday home invasion, Mr. Cleaver?"

"Two-thirty is hardly the middle of the day, (y/n), middle of the afternoon maybe, but-"

"The point. Reach it."

"You don't remember the model number of the speaker set you gave Mark last year for Christmas off-hand, do you? I've been looking for something similar for my flat, they're sold out everywhere, and I've never heard more crisp audio in my life than I have through those speakers."

"Oh, erm... I don't remember it off-hand, actually, we did just move them to the bedroom from the living room, I'll show you where they are. Do you have a pad and pen?"

"Always, lead the way."

I show him upstairs to the bedroom and lean against the doorframe, pointing out the speaker set just across from mine and Mark's bed.

"Just there, check whatever you need."

"Excellent, you're a peach, thank you."

"Anytime."

I watch Daniel investigate the speakers, turning a couple over and writing down some numbers in his moleskine. He then shuffles through the adjacent CD collection a bit before looking over to me.

"What's your poison?"

"I'd rather not."

"Come on (y/n), have some fun, god knows that's gone out the window here now that you and Mark are married." He quips, continuing his search.

"Here, Carly Simon : 'No Secrets', we love a bit of Carly, dont we?" He winks and I can't help but giggle.

He sets the CD into the player and selects a track, pressing the play button. The muted bass intro of  'Youre So Vain' fills the room and Daniel is... it wouldn't be fair to call it dancing but he is definitely... moving to the beat, and -shock horror- extending a hand to me.

'and all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner and-' 

I let out a loud laugh as I take his hand and we are twirling, twisting, dancing... having fun. 

He's not the worst dancer in the world and I nearly cackle as he dips me, brings me up, spins me out and back into his arms, and this is nice, actually.

We sway and maybe I've judged him a bit too harshly... he is best friends with Mark after all, how bad could the man be, really?

"Y'know, Mick Jagger subbed in backing vocals on this one..." he speaks into the crook of my neck, low and soothing, his breath warm.

"Did he?" It becomes apparent to me that yes, yes he did. Interesting.

"Mm. It's funny, the song could very easily be about him..."

"I suppose it could be, huh..."

'I had some dreams, there were clouds in my coffe, clouds in my coffee and...'

As we sway, Daniel's body molds to mine, hands finding my hips. I let my eyes close, my hands resting over his. We fit together like puzzle pieces as our fingers interlace and this is nice. It's never like this with Mark.

Daniel's lips ghost the side of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine "Daniel, don't..." I turn around, my eyes meeting his in shock.

"(y/n), darling, relax. We're only dancing. I know for a fact, Mark barely even uses these speakers. Why not let me appreciate what he so clearly doesn't?" he closes the short distance Ive left bewteen us, eyes trailing over me, drinking in my face, my figure. "What he couldn't...possibly..." his eyes capture mine and he leans down, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. I don't move. I can barely breathe.

'and when you're not you're with, some underworld spy or-'

Daniel's lips lock to mine and the world goes quiet. Our tongues explore eachother's mouths and he moans and before I realize it I'm unbuttoning his shirt.

Daniel places a hand over mine. "(y/n). wait, wait." A look of genuine concern colors his features as he looks down at me, speaking softly "I just... I want you to know that I like you. Love you, really. Every day I kick myself for not objecting to your vows with Mark. You've completely captivated me since our first meeting. You occupy my mind, always... not just when I'm in the shower. So this... you, wanting me too... it...means something to me." His eyes search mine for understanding and it's there.

I take a deep, shaky breath. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"What could I have said? 'No, Darcy, please don't marry her, I love her more than you do' ??"

His tongue traces his lower lip as his eyes flick to my mouth, and he starts to lean in again.

We shouldn't. This is wrong. I'm married to his best friend. He's an awful person. A total prat. A prat who tastes like cigarettes and Diet Coke. A prat whose hands feel incredible on my ass. A prat, who is currently...unzipping my dress... and whose charm I am utterly defenseless to. 

The dress in question falls to the ground in a heap and I'm stood before him in just my bra and panties. As Daniel looks me over, a low moan escapes him and he gasps.

"Ohh, how I've dreamed of this moment. You are...perfect, (y/n), just...ravishing..." his arms wrap around me again and he nibbles my neck while unhooking my bra, tossing it haphazardly aside.

He drags the freshly dampened panties down my legs and helps me out of them, eyes holding mine as he does. But his clothes are still on.

"Bit unfair, isn't it?" I question.

"Looking to level the playing field?" A grin. Daniel reaches a hand back, closing the bedroom door with a click.

I bite my lip, reaching out to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders.

His arms are well-muscled, his chest taut and stomach defined. I start to undo his belt, then his trousers, dropping to my knees before him as I do.

I can tell just from the outline of it he is thick and my mouth drops open as I watch his dick strain against the fabric of his black boxer-briefs.

My fingers hook into the sides of the waistband and he takes in a sharp breath as I pull them down his legs, cock eagerly bouncing forth to greet me.

Daniel tilts my chin up so I'm looking up at him again. "Can I ask a favor of you?"  He smirks down at me.

"Yes, Mr. Cleaver?" my best bambi eyes.

"Open your mouth, Mrs. Darcy."

I open wide for him, tongue out, and Daniel laces his fingers into my hair, slowly guiding my head as far down onto his length as possible, in and out, gradually speeding up to a regular pace. I gag when he hits the back of my throat and blink away tears as he continues to roughly fuck my mouth.

"Ohhh, Mrs. Darcy, your tongue feels fucking exquisite... there you go, that's a good girl... take. It. All..." he dips into the back of my throat a few times in a row and when I  gag again, he groans, gasping sharply. His hand is still enmeshed in my hair and he reminds me of it by jerking my head backwards, cock exiting my mouth with a pronounced pop.

Daniel strokes my cheek, taking in the sight of me on my knees, heaving, lips swollen, body buzzing.

"Mm. I think I'm going to have to fuck you now, (y/n). Too gorgeous not to, I'm afraid. Lay back for me, yeah?"

I rest back on the carpet and he follows me down, nipping and kissing down my neck, hands traveling over the contours of my body as he does.

He takes his cock in hand, stroking it a few times as he looks my face over.

"Are you ready for me?" I nod and he smirks, parting my legs. He glides the tip along my vulva, teasing, and lets out a satisfied hum at the slickness of it.

Daniel aligns himself with my entrance and hastily slips his cock inside of me. He is... much larger than I realized and I gasp at the sudden fullness as he begins to steadily roll his hips down into mine.

"Fuck me, that's tight, have you been fucked recently, (y/n)?"

My face is hot, all I can offer is a choked whimper and he smirks down at me.

"That's a no, then. Ah, don't worry pet. Daddy's here and he's going to take very good care of you..."

he murmurs into my neck, pace picking up.

He feels remarkable but it's so much and "D-Daniel?"

"Mm?" He keeps rocking into me,

"I- mmmh, it's- you're just- it's really big, and-" I gasp as his tip hits my cervix.

"Oh? Are you not used to something like this?" He taunts, grinning.

"Bit much for you then?" He gives another forceful buck into me and I moan.

"(y/n), we can stop whenever you like, you just. say. the word..." he pounds into me hard, one hand pinning my hip in place as I wrap my legs around him. " No Daniel, don't stop, please don't stop!" I whine.

"Mm. See, that's what I thought you might say... sound so fucking pretty when you beg for it like that, too..." he keeps railing into me and I gasp, feeling my body start to coil.

"(y/n) I'm going to pull out now, and you're going to turn over for me, yeah?" I nod.

"Good girl."

He pulls out of me and I do turn over for him, arching my hips up and looking back at him.

Daniel runs his hands over my ass, giving it a firm squeeze before guiding himself back into me.

It's easier to take this time, though still a little overwhelming. He pushes into me carefully, slowly, holding my hips steady, and as he fills me out I realize I spoke too soon.

He starts bucking into me again, his strokes commanding as our bodies clap against eachother. "Oh my Gohdd," I groan, tensing around him.

One of Daniel's hands snakes around my hip and his fingers toy with my clit expertly as he continues ramming into me. His other hand grasps a fistful of my hair, yanking back ruthlessly and my entire body is rigid with need as I clench around his cock once, twice.

"You are just... magnificent, (y/n), so wet, so fucking tight, christ, are you about to come?" He slows his thrusts some and I whimper at the change of pace.

"I said, are you gonna come for me?"

"Yesssss, please" I breathe, desperate.

"Please what?" He slows down to a glacial pace, still playing with my clit, torturous, and does he actually expect me to say it? No. There's no way.

"Please what. (y/n)?" Oh my god. He wants me to call him-

"Daddy! Please Daddy, let me come, I need it,"

"There you go, wasn't so hard, was it?" He speeds up again, pistoning into me rapidly, his grip on my hair tightening. "Tell me something (y/n), has Mark fucking Darcy ever made you feel this good? Ever made you crave it the way you do right now?"

"No, never!!" The words leave me before I'm aware I've said them and I wish it wasn't true.

"Who makes you feel like this?"

"You!! Only you, Daniel!!" I whine.

"That's right, now are you going to be a good girl and come for Daddy? I can feel you fucking twitching, (y/n), just. Let. Go."

Orgasm hits like a train and within seconds I'm a mess of pathetic, whimpering contractions beneath him, completely undone.

Daniel slows, letting me ride out the final waves of my climax, hand finally releasing its grip on my hair.

The familiar creak of the bedroom door handle cuts through our shared panting and the dulcet tones of the Carly Simon CD. Mark. No. No. Nonononono, SHIT.

My body goes slack beneath Daniel's and I look back in mortified terror.

Mark stands in the doorway, fuming.

"What the absolute fuck is going on here?"

A beat.

Daniel clears his throat "Oh. Erm. Hah. Mister. Darcy...you're home... earlier than anticipated. This is... awkward." he manages, sheepish.

Mark's eyes widen at the scene before him and I watch his face crumple momentarily as the information sets in.

Me. Ass up for Daniel Cleaver. On the floor of our bedroom. In our home. In the middle of the day. To Carly Simon. Mark exhales through his nose and he's bright red.

"Cleaver. May I speak to you outside for a moment?"

"Outside your wife or outside of the room?"

"You know what the bloody fuck I meant, now get the fuck off of my fucking floor!" He hisses, seething as he steps politely into the hallway.

"Right. Both then." Daniel mumbles into my neck, withdrawing from me and yanking on his clothes to follow Mark downstairs.

My body is hot lead and my head is hazy as I listen to the frantic yelling downstairs, something is thrown, -glass- it breaks, and finally, the front door slams shut. I hear Mark's footsteps bounding heavily up the stairs and I am well and truly fucked. In all manner of ways.

But all I can think about... is Daniel...

Part 2》

[sillyjpeg]

BILL'S SOUL CONTRACT DECODED.

I was planning on doing this at some point, so here is the entirety of bills soul contract decoded! here is the contract just for reference:

if this flops i WILL cry, i spent 3 hours on this.

but here is the entire decoded version:

YOU ARE NOW TWENTY ONE GRAMS LIGHTER

THIS CONTRACT US LEGAL AND BINDING, WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO USE YOUR LIKENESS, FACE, VOICE, AND SMALL TOWN PLUCK IN WHATEVER NEFARIOUS MANNER IS DEEMED NECESSARY. SANE SOUL, YOUR SOULMATE WILL NOT RECOGNIZE YOU AND WILL WALK RIGHT PAST YOU ON A COLD AUTUMN DAY, NEVER MAKING EYE CONTACT. NOT EVER PROCESSING THAT YOU HAVE EYES AT ALL. NO AMOUNT OF INTERACTION WILL MOVE THEM TO A PLACE WHERE THEY CAN REMEMBER. IN FEELING, THE THOUSANDS OF LIFETIMES YOU HAVE ALREADY SPENT TOGETHER, EACH TIME CHOOSING WHATEVER FORM WOULD KEEP YOU CLOSEST LIKE OTTERS HOLDING HANDS IN A TUMULTUOUS RIVER. YOU WERE BIRDS, YOU WERE TREES WITH ROOTS ENTANGLED, DRINKING IN THE SUNLIGHT TOGETHER. WHEREVER WE GO NEXT, WHEREVER YOU CHOOSE, I WILL ALWAYS BE RIGHT THERE WITH YOU!!

THATS DONE. BUDDY, CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE CHOSEN BILL INSTEAD. MCDONALDS RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT A GIANT YELLOW M ON YOUR TORSO AND FOREHEAD AND SEND YOU WALKING THROUGH A CROWDED TIMES SQUARE WHILE YOU SCREAM “THE FRIES, THE FRIES! THEY DON'T DEGRADE IN NATURE!!! ITS AN IMMORTAL FOOD!!! THAT WILL BE IN THE LANDFILLS LONG PAST OUR DEATHS!” GOOD GOD. THE THINGS I'VE SEEN. ME? WHO AM I? OH IM BILL’S PREVIOUS LAWYER. HE PUT MY SOUL INTO A QUILL PEN SO I CAN WRITE HIS LEGAL DOCUMENTS UNTIL THE SUN SNUFFS OUT LIKE A CANDLE IN THIS SICK UNIVERSE. I USED TO BE SO HOT. I WAS SO FINE. NOW I’M FINE PRINT. BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT YOUR SOUL INTO AN INANIMATE OBJECT, A STRANGE CREATURE, A CONCEPT, A SENTENCE, A TASTEFUL BUT RUSTIC MASON JAR WITH WILDFLOWERS IN IT.

IF AT ANY POINT YOU WISH TO HAVE VISITATION RIGHTS WITH YOUR SOUL, YOU WILL BE SWIFTLY DENIED. UNLESS YOU HAD A COOL SAY PLANNED FOR THE BOTH OF YOU. THEN BILL MIGHT WANT TO COME ALONG. BY SIGNING THIS DOCUMENT YOU FORFEIT ANY RIGHTS TO EATING SOUL FOOD. IT WILL TURN TO ASK IN YOUR MOUTH. A FITTING PUNISHMENT FOR A FOOL WHO SQUANDERED THE ONLY TRUE GIFT LIFE OWES YOU. BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO DRESS YOUR SOUL HOWEVER HE DEEMS NECESSARY. ESPECIALLY IF YOUR SOUL WAS A NERD BEFORE ACQUISITION. SOULMAKEOVERRR! YOUR SOUL MAY BECOME FRACTURED AND PLACED INTO DIFFERENT OBJECTS. THIS HAS NO PURPOSE AND WILL NOT RESURRECT YOU IF YOU DIE. SIGNEE HAS FORFEITED ALL RIGHTS TO ANY AFTERLIFE. INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO: HEAVEN, HELL, PURGATORY, BIG CORNER, FLOW STATE, THE DREAM HOUSE, AXOLOTLS TANK AND CONSEQUENCES HOLE.

SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER BOARD ANY SOUL TRAIN AND IS ADVISED TO DISCARD ALL BELLBOTTOMS. SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER HAVE A PUPPY AS A BEST FRIEND, THEY CAN SENSE WHAT IS GONE. CATS ARE INDIFFERENT. SIGNEE MAY EXPERIENCE OCCASIONAL DEMON POSSESSION FROM HORCULUS THE RED, PLABOS THE MERCILESS, MORBUS SON OF MORTEN, PLAGE THE OOAING AND OTHER SUCH COMMON DEMONS ROAMING EARTH SEARCHING FOR  EMPTY VESSELS.

TIPS FOR RIPPING YOUR SOUL OUT AT HOME: WATCHING YOUTUBE COMMENTARY CHANNELS, ATTENDING AN EXTENDED FAMILY EVENT WITH AN OPEN BAR, USING GENERATIVE AI AND ASSERTING THAT YOU ARE CREATIVE, TURNING A BLIND EYE TO HUMAN SUFFERING, AMASSING MORE WEALTH THAN NEEDED, PURCHASING A BLUE CHECKMARK.

i was giggling decoding this, and my hand is now cramping. the punctuation is based on whatever i was feeling and made sense, comment if i translated something wrong.

[dawnwriterimagines]

debt that’s owed : Fezco (3)

Summary:  Laurie needs someone to pay her the debt that’s owed to her, Rue ran from her, which gives her the perfect opportunity to use Fezco’s words against him. But, is she worth you?

Warning(s):  Angst, talk of overdose, Fear, Drugs, mentions of sex trafficking, Laurie’s crazy ass once again, etc.

(PART 1)     (PART 2)

Author’s Note: What a beautiful man we lost, in every sense of the word. Rest in Peace Angus. Gone too soon. We all love and appreciate the works you’ve done, the lives you’ve changed and the love you give, rest well in beautiful peace.

 Buy me a Coffee? Ko-Fi 

- - -

You had woken up disoriented and drugged, a needle still sticking out of your arm, a few too many holes made that made your skin splotchy and purple. Laurie had been standing over you, hushing you as she took the needle from your skin, kissing your wrist as a mother would have her only child before she stood. “Laurie...” you sighed out, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Laurie. Please...”

The older woman rubbed your cheek, “Shhh...” the touch running through your system all the way down to your toes, you took a breath, shivering at the discomfort. “They don’t like it when you girlies talk too much, hush now, sweetie.” You’d never felt like this before. You felt terrible. 

She left the door open when she left the room, a man you didn’t recognize peeking through the crack of the doorway to look at you, he gave a pleased laugh, whistling. 

You turned on the floor, the blanket beneath you did nothing to shelter you from the cold floor below. The lights were dim from the tiny lamp in the corner, nothing else in the room, but it wasn’t very big anyway.

It took a while to realize you were naked, only from recalling what you had been wearing earlier, and the cold air that you could feel everywhere but nowhere all at once, cause you were sweating terribly. Feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. You rolled around, pulling the blanket with you as you broke out into a fever, the discomfort you felt was enough to distract you from the horrifying situation you were in currently.

“Laurie...” you drawled, whimpering as the drugs took you once again. It didn’t feel right at all, you felt sick and you felt fucking amazing all at the same time, but you were scared most of all. You had no idea what she had been pumping you with for the last few hours. “Fez...” you called for your boyfriend, sobbing as your eyes rolled back as you quickly succumbed to the feeling. “Fezziee...” you hiccupped.

“I like this one,” you heard the stranger say.

The man at the doorway pulled out a scrunched up wad of cash from his pocket, beginning to slide off his jacket, before Laurie stopped him with a shake of her head. “Just watching for now. She’s not ready yet, still under prep. But, if you wanted to purchase her, that’s different...”

You shivered as you followed your high, wondering what would happen next and if Fezco would ever find you before something horrible happened to you.

- - -

Fezco looks around as he rushes over to Rue, checking for anyone that was around the house that may be unwanted, clearly on edge. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Rue?” he questioned the girl, she follows the two of them into the house. “Imma need you to leave, I ain’t askin’.”

Her gaze lingering on the broken screen door, unable to even close it as it had no knob now, the whole piece completely gone as if it’d been blown to pieces, “I wanted to hang out...but obviously you’ve got some shit goin’ on,” her eye’s going wide at the state of the house. “What the--what the fuck happened here?” the glass on the floor, the broken deck doorway, the flipped table, the broken lamp on the floor, the scuffled carpet.

Rue steps into the house, slowly, Ash getting on the computer, looking for something, Fezco making a call, his shoulders low as if something heavy sat upon them. The girl’s eye’s narrowing as she followed the scuffs over to the room hallway, the bedroom down the hall had its door broken down, wooden pieces still on the floor. 

Concerned was not the word to describe how she felt right. Scared wasn’t either. Worried, maybe. But, she was also pretty terrified. Terrified of the answer to her next question.

“Fez,” she hadn’t torn her eyes away from the hallway when she spoke, her voice small, reluctant. “Where’s (Y/n)?” she turns then, her brows knitted together in complete worry, stumbling forwards and away from the hall. She makes her way over to Fezco, taking a handful of his shirt as she pulls him, “Fez!” her voice breaks, her fists shaking, “Where is she?!” she sucks in a breath as she sees his face and the way he doesn’t look her in the eye. “No...” she shook her head. “What so she’s...she’s what? She’s gone?” her voice raising. “Is (y/n) gone, Fez? Come on, gimme something!”

“She’s not gone,” Fezco turned to her with a hardened look, pulling her hands from his shirt, the material stretching out as her grip hadn’t loosened. “Imma find her. Imma find her and kill the motha’fucker that did this,” he seethed to himself, stepping away from her. “Ash, go over the tapes. Try yesterday and this morning, find a camera that isn’t fucked with.”

Ash doesn’t say anything but nod, rushing to the room down the hall as Fezco took the laptop from him, sitting down on the couch, Rue following Fezco, still confused with what was going on.

“Who...wait, who did this?” Rue asked, loudly. “Stop ignoring me, man.”

“I told you to fuckin’ go home, Rue,” Fezco’s eyes flickered up to the girl before back down at the screen, rewatching this morning’s tapes, trying to find someone he recognized. “I ain’t need this right now.”

“Need what? I’m tryin’ to help you,” Rue frowned, offended. “I wanna help! My best friend’s fucking missing, well...kidnapped, by some fucking jackass and even trashed your crib,” she gestured around the house at the damage. “Lemme do something, I can help! I can help find her!”

Fezco looked up toward her, agitated. “You wanna do somethin’ helpful?”

“Yeah, dude!” She nodded before making a face. “Wait, you aren’t gonna just tell me to leave--”

“Go home, Rue.”

“Oh, come on!” she yelled out. “I can help you! I be doin’ mad detective shit. Besides you need all the help you can get, it’s not like you can ask the guys in blue.”

Fezco ignored her for now, trying to stay focused. “Just go sit down somewhere, man. I don’t got time for this.”

And so, reluctantly, Rue went towards the other side of the couch, around towards Ashtray, she sticks her head out of the sliding panel doorway, which was now gone, broken through. Alarmed, she looks down at the glass at her feet, it crunches, burying itself further into the carpet. 

Behind her, Ashtray took a note from his pocket, letting it sit on the coffee table, sliding it over to his brother. “This gotta mean something. Wanna run this through some contacts?”

Fezco thinks on it, before nodding at the idea. “Yeah, man. Let’s try it.” 

As they head back to work, Rue perks up at the new source of info, “Wait, ya’ll got a clue?” coming over to the coffee table, picking up the note, Fezco fumes and Ashtray gaps at the girl’s unwanted involvement.

“Rue!” Fezco grits. “What I just tell you, man!” He usually saw her presence as quite endearing

Rue brushes him off. “I’m good at riddles, just--” then she really looks at the note. 10k.

10k...?

Oh my fucking god, 10k.

As Fezco snatches the note from her grip, Rue stands there, horrified. Her expression morphing completely, shoulders stiffening and hands tensing up, she turns quickly so Fezco can’t see the mortified look on her face. The guilt that quickly begins to eat at her. 

She had thought about it, of course. Of the money she owed Laurie, the drug dealer that she had made a fake deal with in a pathetic effort to get the pills that her regular plug, Fez, had been refusing her. In some way, she blamed Fezco, if he had just given her the damn pills and let her deal with whatever happened to her later, maybe she would’ve never went to Laurie, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped...

No, it was her fault, oh my god it her fault. She went to Laurie cause she was fucking desperate and then she ran when Laurie had gotten her the first time, but now you were taken in her place.

She recalled being drugged out of her mind, just as she wanted, but locked in a room and awaiting to be sold for a fuck. 

Rue feels so goddamn sick all of a sudden. She wanted to vomit. 

God, that’s what you could be dealing with right now. 

She did this. Oh god, she did this to you.

But, Fezco does notice. 

“Rue...” he says, slowly.

Ashtray looks up, stopping in his typing. He glances between the two of them silently, before looking at Rue a bit more seriously, taking note of the way her entire demeanor’s changed. He closed the laptop.

Rue didn’t answer Fezco, didn’t even turn to face him, trying to think of something to say, anything that could defend why. But what could she possibly say besides the fact it was supposed to be her.

Fezco forcefully turned the girl around, “Rue!” to which she stumbled back away from him, her face made his stomach drop, knowing now that she knew exactly why this was happening. “You...”

“I didn’t know, I swear, ok?” Rue started, hyperventilating, sniffling as she wiped a panicked tear from her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I felt like I was fucking dying, Fez! I was dying! And I--I just--Fez!” she cried as he turned from her, running his hands over his hair, down his face, trying to gather himself, trying to keep himself together. “Fez, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I didn’t think she’d come after anyone, I didn’t think any of it would go this far, please--” 

Ashtray’s eyes widened, lost for words.

“RUE!” Fezco roared, his body snapping towards her, pinched fingers silencing her, “Motherf--FUCK! Are you fucking--!” he shoved at the side wall, hitting anything that wasn’t her as anger overwhelmed him. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Rue?!” he couldn’t believe this. How far the girl had really fell to really get herself, to get you, into this kind of situation. 

“I know! I know! I know!” Rue sobbed, covering her face as Fez screamed at her. “Fucking god, I know! I messed up!”

“DO YOU?! Cause (y/n)’s paying for your bullshit, your fucking dumb ass, fuck shit! You mother--get the fuck out,” he fumed, running a hand over his mouth, gesturing to the door. He turned from her, he couldn’t even stand to look at her right now.

Rue sniffled, shaking. “Fez...Fez, I’m sorry. I can fix it, I can--”

“GET. THE FUCK,” Fezco explodes. “OUT!”

And Rue has no other choice but to leave, casting a guilty glance to Ashtray as well, who stares her down as if he were ready to pull the trigger on her with the glock he currently suddenly had in his hand. 

She quickly left the house, sobbing to herself, hardly able to breathe as she stumbled away from the steps. “I’m sorry...” she hiccupped, turning to the house. “I’m sorry, please...” she whispered. “I can fix this...please, I can...I can fix this.”

Rue made her way away from the house though. Making up her mind to fix this. She can fix this...

- - -

Fezco and Ashtray took their guns, a few mags full of bullets and as much cash they had stashed up, just over 8k, not enough to cover, given the raid that cut their stash short for a while. But, if Laurie wouldn’t take the bribe than getting violent was the next best thing. And Fezco didn’t mind the latter.

So when they arrived at Laurie’s home, weapons tucked into their waist bands, into the inner pockets of their jackets, Fezco parked up, Ashtray loading up his shotgun and snapping the end back into place. “Blow the bitch’s head off if this don’t work out, ight man.”

“That’s the plan, bruh,” Ash said, his young face hardened with his hatred for the sadistic dealer that had stolen his mother from him..

Fezco leaves the car, walking up to the house, fighting the urge to kick the door in and unload every bullet into someone’s fucking skull...”What’chu want, man?” Bruce, Laurie’s partner, large and intimidating in his size, glared down at Fezco.

The young man wasn’t swayed, unblinking eyes peering up at him. “Laurie.”

Bruce frowned at the tone. “You got yo’ shit this month, ain’t you? Unless you got payment already?”

“Laurie, man,” Fezco fought to keep his cool. “Where is she?”

Bruce put his hand on the gun he kept at the waistband of his trunks, “What you gotta say ta her, you can say to me.”

Fezco stood there a while, the two men exchanging violent glares, eyes boring into the other and Fezco itched to grab the gun at his side and let loose. But, he didn’t even know if you were even at this house, he needed to know first. “Ma girl...(y/n), where she at, bruh?”

Bruce smirked, straightening. “Shoulda started with that,” Fezco’s nostrils flared at his words. “You got the money to buy her back, huh?”

“She ain’t belong to nobody, man. And ya’ll fucked wit us with some shit that ain’t got nothin’ to do with her,” Fezco gritted his teeth. “Thought we was cool on this bullshit, bruh.”

“You said she was family,” came Laurie’s soft-spoken voice. She came around the corner, behind Bruce, patting her husband’s arm to back him up, “Didn’t you?”

“She’s a fuckin’ child. And got her ass into some shit. But, if you had a problem wit us, come to me,” Fezco sneered. “You came up and took ma girl--” his nails bite into the palms of his hand, he itched to kill this fucking bitch and her demented ass husband. “Where the fuck is she?”

Laurie calmly stepped in front of Fezco. “Don’t worry, Fez. She’s ok,” she assured him, with dead eyes and a quiet voice. “But, remember, I still need 10 thousand, and another few hundred more for a few packs of morphine, a bit of fentanyl...” as Laurie spoke, Fezco’s heart clenched. 

Fezco tosses the bag at her feet, “A lil’ over $8500 in there,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck if it ain’t enough for you, you took my girl, all your fucked bullshit, trashed ma crib, my fucking family--” he huffed harshly to contain himself. “This all you fucking gettin’ from me, and it’s more than you’ll ever get from us again. Where. Is. She. You fucking bitch.”

Bruce took a step towards him at his words, stopped by Laurie, who held a hand up to keep him where he was, entranced by the rage on the young man’s face. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

“Laurie--” Bruce began.

“Come on in, she’s right in here, Fez,” she welcomed him inside.

Fezco followed her inside, Bruce sneering at him, to which Fezco didn’t bother to acknowledge, all he was focused on now was finally getting his hands back on you, rescuing you from this dreaded place.

Laurie stopped in front of a locked room, pulling out a key from her pocket, the lock clicks open. She takes the lock off and opens the heavy door with a light grunt, the dim lighting offering nothing much, but it was light enough to see you in the middle of the room. 

Breathing harshly, turned on your side, skin drenched with sweat, “Fez...” you drawl out, constantly. “Fez...Fez...” you cried, silently, delirious as you tossed and turned.  

Fezco races into the room, “Ma!” he cries, sliding to his knees at your side, quickly sitting you up, wrapping the thin blanket around your naked frame. “Hey, hey, baby, hey,” he gently slaps your cheek, stroking your flushed face as you shiver in his arms, your eyes unfocused, rolling in the back of your head. 

He didn’t like that, taking your face in his hand. “(y/n), (y/n) look at me, look at me, come on, ma. Look at me,” he turned your head to look him in the eye, “Please, baby, can you look at me, you can, you got it, ya see,” you slowly began to regain consciousness, eye sight clearing. “That’s my girl. Look, you’re ok, you’re alright,” he rubs your arms, you’re freezing but you’re sweating terribly.

“Fez...” you whispered.

“I’m right here, ma,” he assured you. Picking you up off the ground, blanket wrapped tight. “I’m right here. I gotchu, come on, we’re going home, baby,” he stands, heading to the door. Casting a long glare to a calmly smiling Laurie, before exiting the room, he couldn’t afford to do any damage, not when you were in this condition.

“I don’t feel...” you spoke, loosely. Head limp against his shoulder, eyes hardly open. “I don’t feel that great, fez...”

“You’re alright, you’re alright, ok?” Fezco went down the hall as fast as he could, keeping the fear out of his voice, the panic from his tone. 

Coming up to the front door, where he found Rue standing at the steps. Bruce had a short stack of cash in hand that he didn’t have before, less than 10k clearly, but enough to make him happy enough to move out of the way when Fezco made his way past.

The young girl was crying hard, relief clear in her face as she saw Fezco come around the corner with you in his arms, but the state of you made her heart drop. “(Y/n)...hey, is she alright?” she asked, worriedly. “Fez...” To which Fezco brushed her off, moving past her without as much as a word of acknowledgement. 

Ashtray opens passenger door for Fez to place you in, buckling you up as you slump, quickly beginning to pass out once again. “Hey, don’t sleep. Wake up. Mom!” Ashtray startles you awake, leaning over towards you in the backseat as Fezco runs around to the other side to the driver seat. Rue enters the backseat, hesitantly, and stays quiet to not be noticed. She looks at your tired, uncomfortable face in the side mirror, and she cries a bit harder.

Fezco drives off with a final glance to Laurie and her husband waving them off at the step, as if they had just passed by for tea and cookies. The psychopaths'. They waved, knowing he’d be back for blood.

“You’re ok,” he says as he drives. Squeezing your thigh as you shift and turn, “You’re ok, hey, ma. Ma, baby,” he draws your attention. “Hey, there you are, baby.”

You’re lucid and high off whatever the hell must be in your system when you smile at him, “Hi, baby...” you smile at him, before slumping once again. 

Terrified what may happen if you fall asleep, he yells. “(Y/n)!” he startles you awake again.

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“You’re ok, it’s ok, just keep awake for a little alright?”

“Can we go home now...” you wondered, quietly.

“On our way,” Ashtray says. Fezco glances at his little brother in the mirror.

But, they don’t go home. They stop by a friend’s spot, who had offered to let them crash for the next few days, since he was out of town and they were in some shit.

Entering the home, Fezco carries you to the tub, Rue following behind, as Ash locks the door behind him. Filling up the tub as you lean against the porcelain edge, the warm water clearly calming you, the sound of the running pipe...

But before anything, Fezco sticks his fingers down your throat, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats as he forces you to gag up anything you might have ingested, emptying out your stomach contents, which wasn’t much. You sniffle and cry, hacking up whatever you could get out, leaning against your lover as your stomach churns in discomfort.

He then helps you into the tub, the water climbing to your chest. Cleaning the dirt from the floor you had been laying on, the dried blood and the horrors of the day...

Fezco takes off his sweater and his jeans, left only in his underwear, he steps into the tub behind you, holding you close, “There you go, baby,” he soothingly speaks to you, kissing your forehead as he squeezes you. “You’re alright now. I’ve gotchu, I got you...”

He glances down at the holes in your arm, bruised and crusted with blood, your hands were cut from the glass earlier. He raised one of your hands to his lips as you turned to lean your cheek to his chest, and he began to cry, closing his eyes tightly.

You slept as he wept.

 But he was grateful he had gotten you back.

At least god had given him that much today.

He kissed your hands, your knuckles, your cut skin, the tips of your fingers.

Then, he just held you to him as the faucet dripped to a stop.

- - - 

Awakening in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar place, you stood fast and out of the bed, your back slamming against the wall in surprise. You reached for a light switch, but you couldn’t see anything around you, nothing felt familiar at all, you shook in terror as the man you laid next to stirred and sat up in your mad scramble for light.

“No, no, please!” you collapsed in the corner, covering your mouth before the stranger could even say a thing, he had stood too fast for you to think nothing else but soon violence brought against you. 

“Ma! It’s me! It’s me,” Fezco found a light switch, the dark, unfamiliar room illuminating, to reveal himself to you. “It’s just me.”

You released a heavy sigh of relief, that visible took a weight off your chest. But, it also made your tears run fast, the days having been too much for you, the thought alone had brought you down to your knees and crushed you before you even knew it wasn’t true. 

Fezco quickly went around the bed, coming to sit in front of you, to which you fell into his arms, quickly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I thought someone--I didn’t know if I--” Fezco interrupts you with a simple stroke of her cheeks, running his thumbs across your cheekbones to soothe your thoughts and wipe your tears.

“I know, I know,” he whispered to her, his voice cracks as his control leaves him. It pains him too much to see you break like this. “But, what happened, huh? You’re here with me. They didn’t get you, baby. They didn’t. You’re here with me.”

“You saved me,” you hiccupped, holding him desperately, just wishing to be close enough to feel nothing but him. “I thought I’d never see you again. That I’d never see Ash.”

“Impossible, ma,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Can neva get rid of me, you know that. And Ash on his own lil’ demon time, he ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You release a watery laugh at his joke, sniffling harshly as Fezco rocks you in his arms, safely keeping you wrapped up in his embrace. 

There’s a knock at the door, they raise their heads, Ashtray entering the room, silently. He stands there for a second as he shuts the door behind him, he shifts from one foot to the other, eyes glancing around, a frown on his face. 

“Ash?” you whispered, looking to the boy. Fez knew though, what was wrong.

As Ashtray looked at you finally, his frown deepened, but it wasn’t a frown, just a miserable look he couldn’t hide anymore, a joy that trailed to sadness and brought tears to his usually hardened eyes. And then suddenly, Ash looked like the little boy that you had always allowed him to be, and that he would’ve never been again if you had gone.

“Ash...” you spoke, softly. Reaching out to him, you pulled him by the wrist, into your arms this time. And he broke like glass.

Like a dam, his tears flow like a downpour. An unwilling sob escapes him as he sniffles and cries into your shoulder, embracing you as he hoped he’d be able to every time he prayed to God for your safe return. 

You kissed Ashtray’s forehead, stroking his face, his hair, and you squeezed him like no one ever had. You breathe deeply, a shiver leaves you as you fight your own tears, “Oh, my sweet boy,” you hold him close, as he buries himself to you. “I love you, I love you.” You say it fast, and you say it with all the love you have, like it could be your last time.

Complete. Is how their family felt again. Fezco engulfed himself in the feeling. The thought of losing you, the absence of you, it would’ve destroyed them.

Fezco leans his forehead to his brother’s, knocking heads gently, the boy peering up to him as he sniffles into your neck. The big brother tenderly rubs his little brother’s head, he kisses his soon wife and let them both fall into his chest, into the side of the bed.

And like the family they were, they collapsed against one another, holding each other tight.

Everything’s ok.

TAG LIST

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[lyneyluv]

lengthy drabble. nsfw utc. mdni, 18+.

childe can’t keep his mind off you. you're like a magnet to him—no matter what you do, you pull him in. you can bet that if his gaze isn't on you, then something else is, whether it be his arm around your shoulders or a hand on your waist.

you've entranced him in a way that makes him need you like water—as if the very breath from his lungs would be ripped away from him if he's apart from you. his eyes are always searching for you- that is if you aren’t already by his side. yes, he's a teensy bit obsessed, but its all within reason! you're such a cutie; he's just making sure nobody tries to make a move when they see he's gone. you're his girl. nobody else's.

with that being said, loving you makes his business trips so unbearably hard. he can barely handle leaving the house every morning, how is he supposed to handle multiple days away?

he'll get back to his temporary home after a long day, all worked up and just needing you. lo and behold, you aren't there. poor guy has to fend for himself for a couple days. but he just can't stop thinking about you :( he can't help it!! you're the light of his life, and when you walk around looking like everything he has ever dreamed of and more, he can't help but want to indulge in everything you have to offer. unfortunately for him, you're a couple nations over.

despite the distance, he can't help but wonder what you might be doing. are you alone? are your showering? have you eaten? is your mind plagued with thoughts of him like his is with you? his hands drag over his face in a poor attempt to derail his train of thought, but the heat crawling up his body grows too hard to ignore. without even knowing, he's thought himself into a corner. he doesn't want to bother you this late, but he has to hear your voice.

picking up his phone as he lays in bed, ajax dials your number. "angel..." he muses as he hears the line pick up.

"hi, baby," you groan out—it might be late, but you're still happy to hear from your boy. "long day? i miss you."

oh archons. just hearing your voice makes his pants grow impossibly tight. "were you sleeping? i didn't mean to wake you," he hums, hit brows knitting in a frown.

"yeah," you yawn and stretch your limbs out over your fart too empty bed, "but it's alright, i miss you too much to be mad." you giggle out. "what's my handsome ajax doing right now?"

he exhales at your words. "oh, you know..." a blush creeps up his cheeks as he looks around the empty room, "missing you," he pauses, thinks, and proceeds. "missing the way you feel," he trails off, his free hand running over his growing tent. he continues through shallow breaths as he speaks mindlessly into the phone. "i miss your kisses," he undoes the zipper of his pants as he pulls the waistband down, "i miss your hands," he grabs his length as it hardens under his fingers, wishing they were your own, "i miss your mouth," his hips stutter as he spreads the leaking precum over his tip, "fuck—i miss your pussy..."

he continues his work as he babbles into your ear, a desperate effort to turn you on and have you somehow magically appear next to him so he could fuck himself dumb into you. his pupils dilate and a low groan erupts from his chest as he hears your soft mewls beginning to fall from the speaker. he's fucking his fist, trying his best to hold back his moans as deeps groans slip out here and there.

he loves you so much. he'd quit his stupid job if it meant he could stay buried within your cunt forever. "wanna fuck a baby into you so bad... jus' wanna be inside you all the time," he whispers out, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed as he chases his high. "so perfect, i never wanna be away from you," he pictures you underneath him, legs wrapped around his torso as he pounds relentlessly into your core. "fuck—you miss me angel? y'miss me fucking you full? gonna let me come home and cum inside you?"

with whatever strength you have left from your own personal pleasure, you hum through the phone. that's all it takes for his release to come rushing through him, roped of white cum staining his tensed abs. you hear him panting through the phone.

"i'll be home soon, angel," he says sweetly, "you better keep your word." you can hear his smirk through the phone.

©𝑙𝑦𝑛𝑒𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑣 ’24

[rileyglas]

Can we get part 2 of the cat Lucifer, cat Alastor, and little Adam thing? Like living with them type thing or daily life? It was adorable!!

The sheer chaos that all three of these little counterparts make was fun to explore! Hope you enjoy! Part One can be found here

Meeting their Fandom Counterparts Pt. 2 Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam x gn!reader

Cat Alastor

The morning light just started to peek through the window of your room. You roll over with a stretch, hand reaching for Alastor, “Good morning my - OW FUCK get off!” The cat, if you can even call it that, pounces and embeds its teeth into your arm. You fling it off to the floor, a solid thud resonates across the wood planks. “Al I can’t keep going with this! He won’t even let me near you without going nuts!” 

“He’s protective, that’s all. I’m sure he just needs to warm up to you a bit more. Isn’t that right my boy?” he coos, patting the bed beside him to call the cat back. You roll your eyes and scoff. That thing has been Alastor’s new favorite in the hotel for nearly three weeks now. It has wreaked havoc every day, not to mention the turmoil poor Lucifer has gone through thanks to its antics. “And how much more time do we need before coming to the conclusion he’s a deranged, rabid nuisance?” A scowl crosses your face as you swing your legs over the bed to get up. 

You hear a static filled growl rumble at your words before the cat stretches to a concerning length, curling up and purring in Alastor’s lap. “I’ve grown quite fond of him, my dear. I can’t help that he’s bonded with me.” You groan under your breath, “Can you at least try to keep him away from Lucifer today? The King is starting to get a nervous tick. He could use a break from the torture.” Alastor exhales in acknowledgement but you already know the day you’re in for. 

A few hours later, everyone sits around the table happily munching on breakfast. Lucifer sits across from you, sipping on his coffee quietly. His eye twitches ever so slightly. “Feeling alright, sir?” you ask, noticing his nerves are more fried than ever. Before he can answer he violently jolts,“UHG something BIT me!?” he yells as he pushes his chair back. Alastor’s cat pops up from between his legs with some white material between a disturbing smile.  Both you and Lucifer shoot a glare at Alastor who is chuckling smugly to himself. 

“You need to keep a leash on that thing before I take care of it myself!” Lucifer hisses. Alastor’s eyes flash and he slams his hands to the table, “You will not lay a finger on him!” The two men go nose to nose, arguing (yet again). Angel leans over to you, “That thing chased Fat Nuggets around with a fork last night. Its eyes always have that deranged, unsettling look. I personally wouldn’t mind if the King took care of it.” he whispers. You nod in agreement but sigh, knowing it is one of the few things Alastor has come to love during his time here. There’s no way you could take that away from him. 

You stand and clear your throat, “Al I think Lucifer is right. You need to keep a better eye on him if you want to keep him. Don’t want him running off any potential clients of the hotel, right Mr. Hotelier?” He rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers to conjure a collar and leash. “Fine, I’ll keep him closer for the sake of the hotel.” his voice drops slightly, “But don’t think I am done with allowing him to make some special visits.” 

Lucifer groans as the cat jumps into Alastor’s lap for his collar. The two give a final, eerily similar grin to the King before disappearing into a shadow. “You going to be okay?” you ask Lucifer. He shudders slightly, examining the new hole in his slacks. You hear a small chuckle leave his throat, “Yeah…I think I’m going to go get a dog today. A big one.”

Cat Lucifer

“Honey I really don’t know if a bow tie is necessary -” Lucifer tries to convince you but you wave him off as you adjust the tiny tie attached to the white cat’s collar, “Come on! He looks like a little distinguished gentleman, don’t you Luci?” “Stop calling him that!” he grumbles, arms crossed across his chest. The smallest pout on his lips makes you melt pitifully, “Now my love, don’t tell me you’re jealous? You’re still the number one man in my life.” Still holding the cat, you lean over and kiss Lucifer’s cheek. 

A light blush crosses his face with a small grin, “I know. I guess I just feel so disconnected lately. I’m sorry.” Luci hops out of your arms and paws at Lucifer’s coat tail. A sudden idea makes your face light up. “Why don’t you make him a toy? You’re locked in your office so much - maybe it can be a little side project to help bring you closer?”

The cat stares up at the King, eyes glossed over and a small droplet of drool dangling off its chin. Lucifer sneers, “Are you sure he even understands what a toy is?” You smooth his coat and push him out the door, “Just consider it, please? Have a good day dear.” A week later, as usual, Lucifer was working overtime every night. You’re grateful you at least have the small fluff ball to keep you company, even if Luci is a little on the dim side. You’ve witnessed him attack his own feet and roll off the bed multiple times, hitting the ground with a disgruntled huff of defeat. He’s even taken a few swipes at Fat Nuggets. When the pig turned to chase him his wings would puff out in an attempt to ‘fly’ away. The poor thing just looked as though he was having a seizure, flailing and flapping around on the floor, going nowhere. Let’s just say - he’s lucky he’s cute. 

Lucifer finally comes in one evening sporting a smug grin, “My dear! Introducing my new creation!” He extends his hand out holding a small white rubber duck with cat ears and a red bow tie, “It’s a duck..cat..thing but more importantly, I installed little wheels underneath so he can chase it to his heart's content!”

He sets the duck down in front of Luci. The cat noses it, hissing when he hears the whirling of the gears that make the duck slide across the hardwood floor. Lucifer’s shoulder stoop, “Damn, I really thought he would like it.” he admits with a hint of sadness. You pat his shoulder, “Give him a moment - oh see! He loves it!” Luci begins to roll around and chirp playfully. After a few moments he pounces (clumsily), catching it between his fangs. The cat proudly struts over to Lucifer and sets the toy at his feet. He bends down to scratch between Luci’s ears, “Hmpf. You’re welcome little guy!”

Your plan for Lucifer to bond seems to backfire slightly. Before you know it, not only is your boyfriend missing nearly every night, but you’ve noticed Luci hasn’t come to bed with you as usual. After a few nights of this, you sneak down the hall to peek into the King’s office. You can’t help but giggle at the scene before you.  Lucifer works hard at his desk, with one drawer pulled out next to him. You notice a small blanket stuffed inside and on top is Luci, curled up comfortably and purring. His little white duck tucked safely under his paw. Every now and then Lucifer’s hand finds the cat to give it a few pats. Well…at least someone has company.

Little Adam

The deal of not allowing Little Adam to come home didn’t last long. The day after he showed up you stand at the stove cooking dinner when you feel a small pinch on your ass. “Well hello to - what the HEAVENS is he doing here!?” You turn around expecting your Adam only to see the little shit making obscene grabbing motions with his hands.

“I couldn’t leave him again! He was scared!” Adam defends loudly then grumbles something under his breath. “What was that dear?” you prod, knowing there’s more to the story. He turns away, embarrassed, “Well…he also might have destroyed the main office while I was gone…and now has a few formal complaints I will have to deal with…”

You cross your arms, “Mhm. And?” Little Adam crawls up your legs and under your shirt. “Hey - NO! OUT!” your words fall on deaf ears as he snuggles into the warmth of your chest. “See he loves you just as much as I do! Please, let’s keep him here?” Adam flashes a coy smile that you, of course, can’t say no to. 

It was easy to see why there were so many complaints about Little Adam. Over the course of a few days he ate every snack in the house, groped you anytime he could, and left a mess in any room he was in for more than a minute. You are at your wits end but continue to put up with it for the sake of Adam’s happiness. 

That is until tonight. Adam came home in a frisky mood and you welcomed his advances. He no more than got his robe off before Little Adam snuck his way into your bed, obnoxiously cheering his bigger self on. “Nope, that’s not going to happen.” You say as you flick him off the bed. His wings pop out and he flutters around Adam’s head. 

“Babe common, it’s just a little me. Not like he can tell anyone what we do. Besides, it’s fuckin’ sick to have a little fan.” Adam says excitedly but his smile drops when he sees how pissed off you are. He hunches his shoulders, “Uhg fine. Sorry little dude. You’ve gotta go.” Little Adam squeaks in protest when Adam plucks him by his wings and throws him outside the bedroom. 

Guilt begins to eat at you. On one hand, you couldn’t have that thing destroying the house everyday and terrorizing you. But Adam has grown attached. There had to be a way to make everyone happy. He was bound to just be lonely and need company. That’s when it hits you. 

“Whatcha workin on sugar?” Adam asks, kicked back on the couch next to you. “I’m actually just finishing up.” You mutter as you make the final stitch and show Adam a small stuffed doll that has your resemblance. “I figured Little Adam needed a Little Me to keep him company. It’ll be cute…hopefully.”

You set up a small bed across your room for the tiny terror to sleep in. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally squish him in the night. Little Adam hops up and down in the bed excitedly as you set the doll next to him. He immediately snuggles it with a huge smile. “Awe he loves it! You did good babe.” Adam chuckles and wraps an arm around you. “Maybe now he’ll leave us alone. He probably was just in need of a frien - uhg great. Now he’s humping it.” You roll your eyes and walk away in disgust. “He’s definitely you.” you poke angrily at Adam who is nearly falling over from laughter. At this point, you’re just glad you found something to keep Little Adam out of trouble. 

[hungermakesmonsters]

Devotion & Desire

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Angst and smut (but it's not angsty smut). All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 7.9k

A/N : 😭😭 This is the last chapter which is why it's so freaking long (I probably should have turned it into two chapters but nevermind). I hope you love it.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

You didn’t sleep.

Despite knowing that, for the first time in years, you were finally safe, you didn’t sleep.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, you felt his teeth on your neck and his hands on your body.

Every time you closed your eyes you felt helpless and alone.

So, instead of sleeping, you dug out your sketch pad and started to draw. It was a mindless task to begin with, your hand seeming to move of its own accord, drawing the same thing you’d drawn countless times before; the Winter Soldier.

It had started as a way to remember, a way to get the violent images of your brother’s murder out of your head but, now, the man you were sketching wasn’t the cold, mechanical assassin who tortured your brother without blinking. He was Bucky. With soft blue eyes, filled with care and sadness. And, now, you needed to get him out of your head for very different reasons.

The hours blurred until, finally, you fell asleep at the table, pencil dropping from your hand.

A few hours later you were woken by the sound of a door closing and you crept to your peephole just in time to see Bucky leaving his apartment.

Your heart almost stopped as he paused and stared directly at your door as if he knew you were there. Then you saw him inhale through his nose like he was trying to find your scent. Only it wasn't there, with your gland gone, your scent was too weak to linger, and that thought made your chest hurt.

A moment later, he was gone.

For the first day you remained hidden away in your apartment but you knew you couldn't survive like that. You were still owed a fortnight's worth of wages from Gracie’s and you knew that you would need the money if you were going to find a new place to live.

The second day, you managed to slip out of the building unnoticed and get to Gracie’s without being recognised, and lingered outside in the cold for five long minutes, working up the nerve to step inside.

The moment Gracie saw you, her arms were around you and she was babbling about how worried she'd been and how the handsome alpha who used to walk you to work had told her you'd been hurt. Bucky. Bucky had been in to tell her that you were hurt - who else had he told?

You kept your hood up, covering your neck and most of the bandaging. She barely let you get a word in edgeways and, even though you knew it should have been heart-warming that she cared so much, all you felt was numbness knowing that you'd deceived her.

“I just need my last paycheck,” you finally managed to tell her.

“I'll get it for you and don't you worry you can come back to work whenever you're feeling up to it.”

“Back? No, I - I'm not coming back,” you said, confused and feeling worse than ever.

“I know it probably feels like that now, but you'll start to feel like yourself again in no time.”

You stood dumbfounded, not wanting to argue, not wanting to tell her that this was you and there was no going back to the person you'd been pretending to be. Gracie had always been so sweet and kind to you that you didn’t have the heart to ruin things between you.

With your paycheck she gave you an apple pie, commenting on how you looked like you hadn't been eating. You tried to refuse, then tried to offer to pay, but Gracie wouldn’t have it. She ushered you out the door, telling you to head home before the weather turned. 

Unfortunately, you could have done with that warning sooner, as the skies seemed to open the moment you were halfway home. Cold rain quickly soaked through your clothes and threatened to soak through the pie box too.

And that wasn’t even close to the end of your bad luck.

“Mouse!” 

You heard the call just as the elevator doors were closing and, for a brief and wonderful moment, you thought that you’d get away, but a hand slipped between the doors before they could close.

Nikki stepped into the elevator and you found yourself shrinking back.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She asked.

“I -” you didn’t know what to say so you stopped talking and just let out a sigh.

There was a moment of silence and you didn’t even notice that Nikki didn’t hit the button for her floor.

“Bucky told us what happened,” she said.

“Okay,” was all you could think to answer with. 

Again, you felt like you had at Gracie’s; like the moment was happening to someone else and you were just watching it unfold, knowing that there was nothing you could really do to change the predetermined outcome.

“You lied to us.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” She asked.

The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and you started to move towards your door, completely on autopilot. Nikki followed after, not saying another word. And, as you stepped into your apartment, you left the door open so she could follow.

Kicking off your wet shoes, you made your way to the kitchen to put the pie box down before shrugging out of your wet hoodie, letting it drop to the floor. You didn’t realise your mistake until you heard Nikki inhale sharply at the bandaging around your neck.

“What happened?” She asked.

“I thought Bucky told you.”

“He said you’d been hurt, but he didn’t know how bad it was.”

You almost shrank back as she closed the distance to look at you, and you saw her face drop as she took in the sight of you.

“It's fine,” you muttered, shivering.

“Nothing about any of this is fine,” she said, ducking her head a little as she tried to get a better look at the bandaging.

You sighed knowing that she was right, but also knowing that it didn't matter anymore.

“What do you want, Nikki?”

“I wanted to see if you were alright, which clearly you're not.”

For the first time since you’d met her, you heard anger in her voice; anger that was directed at you. Your stomach knotted as you were, once again, stuck confronting the life you could have had if you hadn’t gone after Bucky.

“Does it matter anymore?” You asked, not bothering to hold back a tired, resigned sigh.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Bucky told you that I lied about everything, so why do you even care if I'm alright?”

“Because you're my friend.” She said friend, but the tone of her voice didn’t exactly carry the warmth of friendship.

“I'm not though, am I? You don’t even know me.”

“So you’re telling me that it was all lies? Every single second?”

Were you? Some part of you wanted to say yes, to act like you hadn’t enjoyed her and Jade’s company, that you’d just used the pair of them. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t true. It hadn’t all been an act, you did like them, and you regretted ever lying to them.

“No, but -” you took an awkward, shuddered breath, trembling from the cold of your damp clothes, “- I’m not that person. I’m not just some weak, dumb omega.”

“I never thought you were weak or dumb,” she countered, sounding genuinely offended. “None of us ever thought that.”

You could have had this, they would have accepted you. The thought comes to you unbidden and unwanted, and it’s enough to have you turning away from her, bracing yourself on the kitchen counter.

“Is that really what you thought?” Nikki continued. “That we only wanted you around because we thought you were some silly little omega who couldn’t look after herself?”

“That’s all anyone ever sees,” you answered back, tone turning sharp. “Poor little omega who needs to be protected because she can’t take care of herself, silly little omega who just needs an alpha, dumb little omega who -”

“Shut up. You’re the only one here who thinks any of that shit.”

“No, I’m not. Bucky thinks it,” you said softly, keeping your back to her. “He only sees me as an omega.”

“You’re wrong,” Nikki said, continuing when you let out a huff of disbelief. “You haven’t even seen him since you got back, have you?”

“No, why would I?”

“He’s a mess because of you, because of what happened to you. He cares about you.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter anymore either.”

“How can you say that, after everything he’s done to try and help you?” 

The anger had been slowly building, but now it seemed like it had reached a boiling point. Nikki was pissed and some part of you felt like maybe you’d been deliberately trying to rile her so she’d lose her temper and leave. But instead of leaving, she was standing her ground, trying to convince you that you were wrong.

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore,” you said again, finally turning back to face her, letting her get a good look at you, at how broken you were. “Even if I wanted to be what he wants me to be, I can’t. The man who took me, he...” tears seemed to come from nowhere, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay in control. “They had to remove my gland, I - I can’t even... I can’t...”

You started to turn away again, not wanting to face her until you had your emotions in check again, but before you could, Nikki’s arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

“It’s not - it’s not. He broke me and I - I fucked everything up. Bucky just wanted an omega and I can’t even be that any more. I’m... I’m nothing now,” you sobbed.

It all started to come out, the upset and the trauma, the part of you that couldn’t come to terms with what had been done to you.

“You’re not nothing,” Nikki told you firmly. “You’re my friend.”

It didn’t matter, the words barely even sank in. You were lost to your spiralling thoughts but, after a few minutes, you managed to pull away from her.

“I’m - I’m fine,” you said, awkwardly scrubbing at your cheeks with your sleeve, doing your best to pretend your little outburst hadn’t just happened. “You should... you should go.”

“No,” was Nikki’s answer. Straight to the point. “I’m not leaving until I’ve gotten some answers.”

For a few seconds you just stared at her, wanting to argue but too exhausted to even get the first word out.

“Go sit down before you fall down,” Nikki ordered. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

You did as you were told, going along with it simply because it seemed easier than arguing. From your seat, you watched her moving around your kitchen as she had done so many times before. You were so tired that you didn’t even think to clear the table as she sat down and pushed a mug towards you.

“What’s this?” She asked, reaching for the stack of sketches you’d left on the table before you could stop her.

You felt your cheeks start to warm as she looked over the first few pages; some newer ones of Bucky, and some older of the Winter Soldier the night he killed your brother. For a few seconds you felt frozen before awkwardly trying to claw the sketches back.

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Nikki countered, her expression somewhere between a smirk and worry.

“You said Bucky told you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe he didn’t tell me everything. So, why don’t you start from the start?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re adamant that I shouldn’t think of you as my friend anymore, and I want to know exactly why,” she answered with a shrug.

For a moment you looked down at the drink she’d placed in front of you, your cold hands wrapping around the mug as you let out a heavy sigh.

“Fifteen years ago, the Winter Soldier killed my brother...”

You started from the start, telling her about your brother’s murder and how your quest for revenge had landed you with Rumlow, before explaining how you’d tracked Bucky down after the blip and concocted a plan to get close enough to kill him.

Then, in less detail, you explained the last couple of weeks, and how Bucky had cared for you during your heat. Nikki stayed silent, letting you explain it, right up to the hospital, then you just trailed off into a shrug.

“You didn’t let him see you?” She asked.

You shook your head and, instead of answering, you lifted your mug and took a drink. You’d been speaking for so long that your coffee was almost cold.

“Why not?” She asked.

“I don’t want him to see me like this, I don’t -” you hesitated for a second as you voice broke and your eyes threatened fresh tears, “- it’s just too much. Everything’s changed and there’s no way to fix it.”

“You’re not the only one who’s hurting,” Nikki said softly. “No matter what you think it’s pretty fucking obvious that he cares about you. And you -” she waved at the stack of sketches, “- you’ve clearly got unfinished business with him.”

And then, without warning, before you could even think to say anything, she was getting to her feet.

“Nothing you told me has changed anything,” she said decidedly, “we’re still friends.”

Speechless, you could only watch as she started to head towards the door. You didn’t know if she had somewhere to be or if she’d realised you desperately wanted to be alone - whatever it was, you were glad she was leaving.

“But,” she started again as she reached the door, glancing back at you over her shoulder, “as your friend, I think you owe it to yourself to talk to Bucky.”

She left before you could protest, before you could even tell her that you were planning on leaving and that it really didn’t matter anymore. You were left more confused than ever, not understanding how she could just shrug off everything that you’d done and declare that you were still her friend.

Didn’t you get a say? Didn’t you get to decide how she - how anyone - saw you?

(No. No, of course you didn’t. All this time you’d been trying so hard to control other people’s perception of you, but you were starting to realise that it was impossible.)

You spent the rest of the day in your apartment, looking for new places to live that you could actually afford (there was nothing). You ate some of the pie that Gracie had given you and, in the evening, you ended up at the table again with a pencil in hand.

You just wanted him out of your head; you wanted to forget the softness in his eyes before he’d kissed you that last time, and you wanted to forget how that softness had been replaced by fear and worry the last time you’d seen him as he’d been handing you off to paramedics. You’d always felt empty, but never like this before.

Again, you woke up slumped over a half-finished sketch, a half-hearted attempt to capture his smile on paper. Looking at it in the cold light of day, you weren’t happy with it. It seemed flat and dull, and it didn’t fill your stomach with butterflies the way his rare, happy smiles did.

A hot shower and a change of clothes had you feeling... well, not entirely human but functional at least. Washing around the bandages was a nightmare that had you choking back tears. It was almost funny how you could force away the thoughts of what had been done to you, only to find yourself retraumatised the moment you saw the bandages or moved your neck in such a way that it caused you pain.

The next issue to overcome was your kitchen. You’d never been one for stocking up and, what little you had had in the fridge had gone bad in the weeks that you’d been away, leaving you with nothing but the last of the apple pie to eat and, as much as you liked Gracie’s apple pie, even you knew that you couldn’t survive on it

So, again, you decided that you’d brave the outside world. 

You pulled your hood up and slipped out into the hallway but, as you went to lock the door, the keys slipped from your fingers. As you leaned down to pick them up, you heard Bucky’s door open and you froze, caught between thoughts of diving back into your apartment and fleeing down the hallway.

Indecision saw you doing neither and, instead, you picked up your keys and remained awkwardly frozen. You didn’t turn to look or lift your head, you just stood there.

“They let you out of the hospital,” he said, though there was an unspoken question behind his words; why didn’t you tell me?

You let out a soft sigh. “No, I - I checked myself out.”

“You checked yourself out?” He repeated, almost sounding worried. “Are you - are you okay?”

The shrug you gave was lost somewhere beneath the oversized hoodie. It was pointless to get into it and you were certain he wouldn’t understand. You’d never be alright again,

“Can we just -” he started again, an awkwardness filling his tone, “- can we talk?”

What was there to talk about? What was left? Still, you didn’t look at him.

Oh.

“I’m not going to try to kill you again if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Of course that was it. Of course that was all he cared about. 

Not waiting for his answer, for his relief, you started to walk away from him, feeling like you’d said all that needed to be said to him.

“Wait, that’s not -” he sighed, following after you, his hand finding your wrist and stopping you in your tracks, “- that’s not what this is about. You know that’s not what this is about, don’t you?”

His hand gave a tug on your wrist and, before you could think better of it, you obliged him and turned back towards him, still keeping your head down and your face obscured by the hood.

“Then what, Bucky?” You asked, not sure you wanted him to answer. “What happened was - you said it yourself, it was just biology. I’m an omega, you’re an alpha. Neither of us were thinking straight.”

“I was. And I think you were too, at least for the moments that count.”

You shook your head and took a step back, pulling away from his grasp.

You knew what he was talking about, all those little moments when you’d let your guard down; the night you’d slept in his arms on the floor, the time you’d fallen asleep with your head on his lap as he talked you through the pain, and the way you’d fucked him that final time, offering yourself to him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you answered back bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t want you if he knew about your injuries.

What alpha in their right mind would want an omega that couldn’t be claimed or mated?

“What are you talking about? Of course it still matters, it’s -”

“He ruined me, Bucky,” you interrupted. “They had to remove my mating gland. Now, I - I can’t even...”

Your voice broke and you forced yourself to stop, unwilling to cry in front of him, unwilling to show any more weakness.

While you’d never liked being an omega, never liked feeling like your only purpose in life was to be mated to some alpha, now you felt like only half a person. You weren’t even an omega anymore, you were something less than that. If you couldn’t be mated, you’d never be loved.

Three weeks ago that wouldn’t have bothered you but, since coming to terms with your brother’s death, you suddenly felt like your life was empty and there was nothing left for you.

“Let me see,” he asked softly.

You shook your head but made no effort to stop him as he stepped closer, and you didn’t pull away as his hand slowly pushed your hood down. You looked off to the side, refusing to make eye contact as his fingers ghosted over the bandaging. When you still refused to look at him, his hand cupped your cheek and he silently urged you to face him.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he told you with a certainty you hadn’t expected.

“Of course it does,” you said, taking a step back, out of his grasp again, acutely feeling the warm touch of his hand on your cheek. “I can’t even pretend to be a good little omega for you like this.”

Realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, almost flooring him. Those three little words that he’d let slip in the heat of the moment, exposing what he wanted, what he wanted you to be for him - not you as you were, but a good little omega.

His mouth opened but, for a few seconds, no words came out.

“That’s why you ran? Because I said that?”

It didn’t matter how he meant for it to sound, you only heard it the way you wanted to hear it; he thought you were stupid, he thought it was your fault for running off and getting yourself caught by Rumlow. You only had yourself to blame for not wanting to be a good little omega.

You turned and started walking away, feeling sick to your stomach.

“Stop, c’mon, just talk to me. Please,” he pleaded, following after you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve said it. I didn’t mean it like -”

“I’m not what you want, Bucky,” you said as you hit the elevator call button. “I wouldn’t play the good little omega for you even if I could.”

“Good,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, between you and the elevator doors, desperately trying to get you to look at him. “I don’t want an omega, I want you. The rest doesn’t matter.”

“What about biology?”

After all, that was what had started all of this, wasn’t it? If it hadn’t been for your heat the two of you would never have started getting close. And, now, you couldn’t satisfy his biological desires to mate and claim.

“Fuck biology. I’m not exactly a regular alpha, am I?” He answered back before repeating; “this doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything for me, Bucky,” you tried to explain. “I’ll never belong, I’ll never be loved, I’ll -”

“I love you,” he admitted clumsily and, suddenly, you felt like you were suffocating.

You took a step back, shaking your head, the emptiness inside you feeling like it was growing bigger, turning into a gaping chasm beneath your ribs.

“Don’t say that! Don’t lie to me!” You said, your voice cracking and breaking under the strain of it all.

“I don’t need to put a mark on your neck to know that I love you,” he carried on. “I don’t need you to belong to me, I want you to want to be with me.”

“Stop it! Stop saying that. You don’t love me. You can’t.”

Before he could answer, the elevator doors slid open and you quickly pushed past him, trying to get away. But Bucky followed after you, not willing to let you walk away.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” he said, almost snapping. There was an anger in his tone that you hadn’t really heard before. “I’ve spent enough of my life being told how to think and feel, and I’ll be damned if I go back to that.”

“You don’t love me, Bucky. How could you? You don’t even know me,” you replied, hitting the button for the ground floor, far harder than necessary. “It’s not love, it’s some dumb alpha urge to claim an omega, and you can’t. No one can. Brock saw to that.”

“Will you just fucking listen to me? I don’t care about claiming you. I care about you,” he answered back without hesitation. “What are you so afraid of that you won’t even hear me out?”

Something inside of you snapped at those words and, before you could think about what you were doing, you were shoving him, your open hands slamming against his chest, barely moving him. Again and again, as hard as you could and, when he still didn’t move, you balled your fists and started to bring them down against him.

You weren’t afraid.

You weren’t weak.

You weren’t that scared little omega who hid away while her brother was being murdered.

You weren’t the pathetic little omega that Brock Rumlow had kept for all those years.

You weren’t the weak and tired little omega who couldn’t stop him from tearing your gland.

And you weren’t the sad little omega who’d cried because Bucky had left her to get breakfast.

You weren’t those things anymore. You couldn’t be that person anymore.

“I’m not afraid! I’m not afraid of anything!” You screamed as you hit him. “I’m not some scared little omega who needs protecting. I’m not -”

His arms closed around you, pulling you close, stopping your assault on him.

A sob clawed its way from your throat as you tried to escape his hold, but Bucky just held you tighter. Everything started to come out. You just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I know,” he said softly, “I know you’re not. You’re the bravest person I know, and I’m so sorry that I fucked up. You’ve always been so much more than an omega to me. I only said it because I thought that was what you wanted; I thought you just wanted an alpha. When you asked me if it was just about biology, I should have been honest. It was never about biology for me.”

And, just like that, he managed to turn everything you’d believed on its head.

You had thought that you were nothing more than an omega to him and, all the while, he’d  thought he was nothing more than an alpha being used to help you through your heat. How had you both gotten it so wrong? You managed to look up, at him, at the pained look on his face and all you wanted was to understand.

But it was too late.

You knew that you couldn’t handle the pain of almost having him and losing him again, not now, not after everything that you’d been through.

“Mouse, I -” 

He didn’t get a chance to finish.

The elevator doors slid open and you squirmed from his grasp, heading for the door and out onto the street, pulling your hood up as you went. You didn’t even stop as almost knocked over Nikki and Jade on their way into the building, and you certainly didn’t stop when you heard voices calling after you.

You lost yourself for hours, wandering through New York, ducking into the busy crowds of the city, losing yourself in the noise and the bustle - anything not to think about what had happened and what Bucky had told you. 

It felt cruel. It felt needlessly nasty for him to tell you that he loved you now that you couldn’t ever really be with him.

But, on the other hand, there was something else, something hopefully that you didn’t dare think about.

What if he really could love you as you were; unclaimable, unmateable?

It was dark when you returned home, exhausted and without the food that you’d originally left to get. You slipped into your apartment and wanted nothing more than to fall into your warm bed and sleep until all of your problems went away.

So, of course, you should have known that wasn’t how the evening was going to go.

The knock on the door came about fifteen minutes after you got in. At first you tried to ignore it but whoever it was wouldn’t stop.

Finally, you checked the peephole and saw Nikki and Jade standing in the hallway, not looking like they were planning on leaving before seeing you.

“Go away,” you muttered loud enough for them to hear.

“Not happening,” Jade answered. “Open up, we’ve got Thai food.”

“I don’t want -” you started only to find yourself interrupted by Nikki.

“You can either open up, or we can spend the rest of the night out here banging on the door, mouse.”

You knew that they would. You knew that you wouldn’t get a moment of peace until the pair of them got what they wanted.

With a sigh, you unlocked the door and slowly started to open it. That little gesture was more than enough to have the pair of them barging into your apartment before you could even think about reconsidering.

The moment you were hit by the smell of Thai food, your stomach let out an uncomfortable grumble.

As you closed the door, they made their way to your kitchen, grabbing plates and cutlery, before moving to the table and starting to set out the food. And you just watched, knowing there was nothing you could possibly say or do to stop them. You didn’t even flinch when Jade started to stack your sketches, taking a moment to look at them.

“You were right, these are really good,” she said to Nikki, and your cheeks instantly started to warm. “Have you shown them to Bucky?”

Your head shook and your gaze dropped, not wanting to think about the alpha across the hall or his declarations of love.

You were beckoned to the table and you took a seat as your favourite Thai dish was placed in front of you, along with a glass of wine.

“Not that this doesn’t look great but... why are you doing this?” You finally asked.

“Because you’re our friend and I saw how empty your cupboards were yesterday,” Nikki shrugged, tucking into her own meal. “You’ve been through a lot and we wanted to make sure you’re looking after yourself.”

“And you looked upset earlier,” Jade added softly.

“And that,” Nikki agreed. “So, are you gonna tell us what happened, or should we ask Bucky?”

With a sigh, you slumped back on your chair, not even managing to take a single bite of food before the conversation shifted to that awkward place. They were Bucky’s friends, you had to remind yourself, of course they were worried about him.

(But, clearly they were your friends too, otherwise they wouldn’t have brought you your favourite food, right? Could it really be possible that they wanted the best for you and Bucky?)

“He told me he loves me,” you confessed, voice quiet, feeling uncertain about saying it aloud as if you were scared it would sound completely ridiculous coming from your mouth.

“And what did you say?” Nikki prompted.

You stalled by reaching for your wine glass and taking a long drink, but they waited, neither of them saying a thing.

“I told him that he couldn’t love me, I’m not -”

“That is such bullshit.”

“Nikki,” Jade said, chastising her girlfriend for her tone, but Nikki didn’t seem to care.

“Of course he loves you. Look at everything he’s been through for you,” Nikki said. “If you don’t love him, that’s fine, that’s your choice, but you don’t get to dictate how he feels about you.”

She was right.

You hated that she was right, hated that it reminded you of what he’d said about people telling him how to think and feel. You were no better than the people who’d hurt him.

“I can’t be what he wants me to be,” you tried again, not really sure who you were trying to convince anymore.

“What does he want you to be?” Jade asked.

“What did he ask you to be?” Nikki added, almost as if she could sense you were going to answer with what you thought rather than what Bucky had told you himself.

“Me,” you answered, your voice turning quieter still. “He said he just wanted me to be me.”

Your stomach hurt and it wasn’t the hunger pangs causing it.

Bucky wanted you. 

He was the first person to ever want you.

He wanted you even now with your gland gone. 

He wanted you, even though you had nothing to offer him.

It was never about you being an omega or him being an alpha. He saw you as a person and he’d let you see him as one too. And, for that, you’d tried to push him away.

A tear rolled down your cheek and, instead of continuing the conversation, you reached for your fork and started to eat.

Nikki and Jade stayed silent, letting you process everything, letting you reach your own conclusions in your own time. You didn’t look at them, but you could feel their gazes wandering to you every now and then as they ate. There wasn’t much to say after that though, for the rest of the meal, you found yourself thinking over every little moment you’d shared with Bucky, re-examining it under a new lens.

He’d brought you your favourite cereal.

He’d held you under the freezing cold water of the shower to help with your fever.

He’d always let you decide what you wanted from him, he’d never once tried to push or tried to convince you, and he’d only ever kissed you when you let him.

He’d trusted you enough to tell you about his time with Hydra.

If he’d wanted an omega, he could have claimed you the last time you’d had sex. You’d offered him your neck, your gland, and if he hadn’t said those three little words, you would have let him claim you.

When the conversation started up again, it was muted and you only half listened as Jade and Nikki spoke, clearing up the mess before letting themselves out. Nikki lingered in the doorway, telling you she’d be back tomorrow and all you could offer in response was a nod. 

Already, you were starting to understand that there was no getting rid of her and, now you’d had a chance to think about it, you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be alone anymore.

You were left with your thoughts and you kept circling back to the same thing. Bucky.

A few hours had passed since Nikki and Jade left when you found yourself slipping out of your apartment and into the hallway, eyes fixed on Bucky’s front door.

His scent lingered outside his door, stronger than you remembered it ever being. You found yourself closing your eyes and breathing it in, remembering what it was like to be wrapped up in his arms, face pressed against his neck, basking in his scent.

Before you could second guess or change your mind, you stepped forwards, knocking on his door. 

Ten seconds passed - long enough for you to take a step back, to start to think you might be making a mistake. But then the door opened.

Your eyes went wide when you saw him, wearing nothing but his boxers, his skin flush. He took one look at you and, suddenly, you felt breathless, smothered by his scent and inexorably drawn to him. Shit, you realised entirely too late, his rut had hit.

“What?” He asked.

You could see his knuckles turning white where he gripped the door, anchoring himself in place, like he didn’t trust himself not to reach for you.

“I just - I -” you started and stopped, struggling to find the words. “I wanted to say I was sorry.”

“For what?”

And that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Everything. What I said earlier, how I’ve been acting, I -” you shook your head. A moment later, you noticed the way his chest was rising and falling and you knew that it was a stupid time to try and have a heartfelt conversation. “A-are you okay?”

“Fine, just -”

“Your rut?”

Bucky nodded.

Part of you wanted to shrink back, to retreat to your apartment, but another part of you was sick of running.

Instead of stepping back, you stepped forward, pushing against the door and into his apartment. Bucky moved out of the way, a confused expression on his face. But, despite his uncertainty, you could tell he was still in control of himself. You could tell that you’d always be safe with him.

He let the door fall shut as he turned to face you, not moving towards you, letting you decide what you wanted - if you wanted anything at all.

And that was precisely why you took a step towards him, closing the distance so you could place a hand on his bare chest, right above his racing heart. His skin was hot to the touch, clammy, but it was nowhere near as bad as you had been expecting. His rut must have only just started in the last couple of hours.

“Did you mean it?” You asked softly.

“Every word. I love you.”

You leaned closer, wrapping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Bucky pressed his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply, as if you were his and your scent alone would see him through this. But the second he realised what he was doing, he pulled back a little.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“You helped me...”

“Help? Is that all it is?” His voice betrayed his pain at the thought and had your stomach tying itself in knots.

“I - I don’t know what it is, Bucky,” you confessed, lifting your head to look him in the eyes again. “I want to be here. I want to be with you, but I can’t be yours...”

“I don’t need you to belong to me. I just want you to let me love you.”

“What if I can’t?” You asked, giving away your insecurities. “I don’t know how. What if I fuck it up?”

“You won’t,” he answered. “Can we just try?”

Despite your fears, you managed a nod, and it was all the sign that Bucky needed.

His hands framed your face and he kissed you. He kissed you like it was the first time all over again, he kissed you like a man starved of affection, like a man who really did love you. You pressed closer to him, both arms wrapping around his waist as you finally surrendered to what you wanted.

“Tell me this is okay?” He muttered against your lips. “I don’t want to rush you or hurt you.”

Your heart bled at his compassion, the way he was putting you first even though he was going through his rut, and you knew that he’d stop if you asked him to. But you didn’t. You didn’t want it to stop. No, you wanted something good to finally come from all the bad.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Please, don’t stop.”

He lifted you off your legs quickly wrapped around him as he carried you into the bedroom. 

It felt like that first night all over again, only this time you weren’t going to ruin it. 

He sat with you on his lap and, already, you could feel the press of his erection between your thighs and it was enough to cause you to squirm, your hips eagerly rocking against his. Little moans and whimpers quickly started to spill from your lips and into his, but it wasn’t enough. 

(When it came to Bucky, nothing would ever be enough.)

Pulling back a little, you sank to your knees between his legs, tugging his boxers down. You were sure to keep your hands where he could see them, your fingers gripping his thighs as you bowed your head and parted your lips. Bucky’s fingers tangled in your hair, but he didn’t try to move you, he let you go at your own pace. 

A low and breathy groan spilled from him as the tip of his cock slipped between your lips and you started to lightly suck, running your tongue over his slit and lapping up everything that leaked from him.

Looking up at him, you felt yourself wanting to submit, wanting to give yourself to him in whatever way that you could. His heavy scent already had slick pooling between your thighs, eager to feel him inside you again. 

One of your hands moved to grip the base of his cock as your lips sunk down it and you felt him twitch in your mouth, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft throbbing with every little move you made. 

You started slowly, bobbing your head and dragging your lips up and down him, letting out the sweetest little moans for him, while Bucky panted and groaned like he was already on the brink. Your eyes watered as he nudged the back of your throat, but you didn’t let that stop you, you just blinked and carried on.

His mouth went slack and you could see him fight against himself, desperately trying to hold back. That was when you doubled down. Hollowing your cheeks against him, you moved faster, chasing your lips with your hand, making sure no inch of his cock went untouched.

“Fuck, mouse, I’m -” he tried to warn you but it was too late.

Bucky groaned your name as his cock started to pulse, his hip bucking upwards as he started to fill your mouth. You stayed where you were, lips wrapped tight around him, your eyes fixed on his.

(Fuck. How were you only just noticing how beautiful he was when he came?)

Finally, you sat back on your heels, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you looked up at him.

“So that’s what that feels like when you don’t try to stab me,” Bucky joked breathlessly, a ridiculous grin tugging at his lips.

You tried your best to suppress a laugh, but it managed to escape you. And it reminded you why him, why you wanted this (whatever this ended up being).

He reached for you, helping pull you back onto his lap so he could kiss you again, groaning as he tasted himself on your lips. Almost immediately, he was hard again, and you were quickly tugging off your shirt and bra.

“Mouse, are you sure?” He asked again, barely able to pull himself from your lips.

“Yes, Bucky,” you told him just as desperately. “I want you.”

He turned, dropping you onto your back on the bed and pulling off your leggings and panties, leaving you completely bared to him. Without thinking or waiting for him to say anything, you got on all four, presenting yourself to him, but you quickly found yourself flipped onto your back again.

“I want to see your face, mouse. I want to see all of you,” Bucky told you.

You watched as he crawled onto the bed and over you, his hands and lips skimming up your stomach and over your chest until he was above you.

As you pulled him down into another eager kiss, he slipped a hand between your legs. You gasped against his lips as two fingers slid into your slick pussy and started to grind yourself against his hand, desperate to show him that you wanted this.

You were already so worked up from sucking his cock that you easily fell apart for him, and you knew that was precisely what Bucky wanted from you. He wanted you to be ready for his cock and, while he was doing everything he could to try and make this about your pleasure as much as his own, you could tell his rut was taking its toll on his patience. 

You moaned his name when you felt the press of his cock at your entrance and arched your back at the all too familiar feeling of him slowly filling you. Your arms wrapped tight around him and your thigh hitched on his hip. It was perfect, amazing. It was all you’d ever need.

He stilled inside you once you’d taken every inch, staring down at you, checking for any signs of discomfort.

“It’s okay,” you said in a low whine. “I’m okay. Bucky, please -”

Bucky didn’t make you beg (though you were sure you would have). His hips started to move, slowly at first, but the gentle pace didn’t last for long. You eyes rolled back and your back bowed, pressing your body against his as he finally gave in to his base instincts and let his rut control him.

It didn’t take much for you to come again, crying out beneath him as he fucked you through your orgasm, letting out the filthiest sounds you’d ever heard from him as he did. Every drive of his hips forced a moan from you, and every sound was in worship of him and what he was doing to you.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You almost screamed, not even caring to think about how half the building might be able to hear you.

He kissed you to stifle some of the noise that you were both making and it wasn’t long before you were coming again for him, your body seeming to want to completely submit to him and everything he was doing.

After an unspecified amount of time, his thrusts started to become shorter, more desperate.

“Mouse...” he warned, his voice an awkward gasp, not stopping or slowing.

Rationally, you knew what letting him come inside you meant during his rut, but you didn’t want to think rationally. You wanted this. You wanted Bucky. You wanted to submit to him and take his knot.

“Don’t pull out,” you finally gasped, your fingers pressing into his back, holding him tight against you.

There was no telling if it was your words or just the fact that he’d been close, but the moment you finished speaking, you felt him start to pulse inside you. The sensation alone was enough to push you into another orgasm, your walls fluttering and trembling as you felt his knot start to swell inside you, trapping you together.

Your eyes rolled back and a series of desperate moans spilled from you.

“Alpha,” you groaned, giving yourself over to him completely, your eyes closing.

Your head moved, presenting your bandaged neck, even though you knew he couldn’t mark you or claim you. His hand gripped your chin, turning your face towards him as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

“I love you,” he groaned into your mouth before kissing you again.

When he finally came up for air, he pressed his forehead to yours, still panting, still completely overwhelmed. You reached up, fingers running through his sweat-damp hair, just as overcome by the moment as he was. You’d never experienced a moment like this and you quickly understood why.

“I - I love you too, Bucky,” you confessed.

Your arms gripped tight around him, letting him know that you didn’t want him to move, that you were happy with the weight of him on top of you while his knot locked into place and he came inside you, his cock twitching as it pumped you full. You nuzzled against his neck, intoxicated by his scent, completely overwhelmed in a new and amazing way. 

“Stay with me,” he asked breathlessly. “Not as my omega, but as the person I love.”

“Yes,” you answered without a second of hesitation.

End Note : And that's the end😭 I've had a blast writing this. I never thought I'd enjoy writing omegaverse this much so that's been an interesting discovery. I might come back to this and write an epilogue but I'm actually pretty happy with where this ended; it's open enough that I can come back to it for a second fic but it's also sweet enough that I don't think (or at least I hope) no one is disappointed??

Thanks so much for sticking with this, I really hope you've enjoyed it. I know I'm not great with comments and reblogs but I promise I do read every response that I get even if I don't get around to replying and it's really meant so much to read everything you've all had to say about this one! (also same goes for comments on Ao3)

I do have a potential idea for another Bucky fic in future, so feel free to stick around for that (it won't be until the new year because working retail over the holidays is draining enough without starting a new fic).

As always, reblogs/comments/likes/asks are always appreciated. Thanks so much for reading, hope you have a great day!

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