#swam 3k yesterday!

[breakfastteatime]

(Turns out my shoulder is 100% not up for 3k swims, fuck fuck fuck)

[thewolvesofthenorth]

Chapter Three

Chapter Three of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~3k Summary: Sara gives you some much needed advice and Cregan finds that dreams can be overwhelming, but so can reality.  Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining, smut (p in v and fingering)

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It was just a dream.

You were wrapped Cregan's arms, his body radiating a warmth that not even a fire could offer. He had held you all night, keeping a firm hold on you as you soundly slept against him. And he had laid a kiss on your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

The near silent closing of your door had drawn you from your slumber and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself nestled beneath the furs of your bed and felt a tingling sensation on your cheek.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and let them adjust to your surroundings. It was still dark, so you guessed it was around the hour of the owl, which meant you hadn't been sleeping for very long. You were confused because you were certain you'd fallen asleep on top of your bedding the night before.

Stretching your limbs, you rolled over and caught a whiff of something you hadn't smelled in a very long time. A mix of oak, chestnut, and leather, with a hint of cinnamon. The distinct musk of a man who you'd been chastising mere hours ago.

Was it truly just a dream?

A hundred thoughts swam through your head as you sat up and looked at the spot beside you. To the untrained eye, the furs looked undisturbed, but to you there was a clear sign that someone else had been there. You placed your hand on the empty space and felt a lingering heat. Someone had laid beside you for much of the night and had left just moments ago.

You knew of only one person who would be brave enough, or in this case, foolish enough to come into your chambers. You rubbed your temples, unsure if your mind was playing tricks or if you were still dreaming, or if he had truly been there.

Why would he have been in here?

And why would he lay beside me?

You tried to think of every possible reason why Cregan would do such a thing and kept coming up blank. You let out a huff as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded over to your open window. The North was a cold and unforgiving place to those who were unaccustomed to such a cold climate, but to you it was home.

You leaned against the frame and admired the rare sight of the moon. Due to how cold it was, snowfall was not out of the ordinary, and the sky was often blanketed in clouds, but tonight the sky was strangely clear and the night peaceful.

You let out a sigh, reflecting on the events of the day. You’d given Cregan a piece of your mind, and then he’d decided to come into your room and lay beside you. You were conflicted. Cregan’s words in the godswood had cut into your heart like a knife, and yet his actions spoke differently.

You were a jumble of emotions. Irritation. Sadness. Anger. But beneath it all was also happiness. Knowing that Cregan had laid beside you made your heart flutter. As much as you claimed you hated him, you still loved him and couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him lying next to you in such an intimate way.

You groaned at how childish you felt and how you still clung to the idea that he felt something for you. You huffed and stood back from the window, shaking all the thoughts from your head and decided to go to bed.

I need to talk to Sara tomorrow about what happened.

Cregan must have said something to her at least.

The next morning you’d woken up at the hour of the nightingale and quickly dressed, making it your goal to find Sara and talk to her about what had happened yesterday. Your head was still a mess of thoughts, and you needed her perspective on things.

You tip-toed through the halls as quietly as possible in case anyone else was awake at the same time, a certain Lord of Winterfell in particular, and made your way to the kitchens. As you crossed the courtyard, the hairs on your neck stood up and you felt like you were being watched. You paused and turned to look behind you and spotted his silhouette.

So much for trying to be sneaky.

Your eyes met his and even in the cover of near darkness, you could tell that he did not sleep well.

That makes two of us.

You broke eye contact and shook your head, tugging your pelts tight around you, and quickened your pace. You were already anxious about speaking to Sara about what had transpired, but at the sight of him your anxiety doubled.

He had looked very tired, but he also had an unreadable expression on his face, and if your intuition was correct, he had probably kept watching you as you walked away. After a moment, you crossed the threshold to the kitchens and spotted Sara bent over a steaming bowl of soup.

“Good morrow,” Sara greeted as you approached, her voice soft yet curious.

“Good morrow, Sara,” you replied, anxiously gnawing at your lip. Her eyes narrowed as she noted your restless fidgeting.

“What’s the matter?” she inquired, tilting her head. “You’re never so troubled at the day’s first light.”

“Erm—Cregan… ambushed me in the godswood,” you confessed, casting a quick glance at her. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything of that, would you?”

Sara set down her spoon with a sigh. “I may have told him where to find you.”

“Why?” you pressed, frowning deeply.

“Well, he wouldn’t stop hounding me, for one,” she admitted, waving her hand as if to dismiss the gravity of it.

“That does not answer my question,” you said sharply. “He’s been avoiding me for months, pretending I don’t exist, so why would he ask where I was?”

Sara winced, clearly withholding something. “He and I spoke of… certain matters. And no, I won’t tell you the details. Just know that I knocked some sense into him—or so I thought.”

You huffed in frustration, shaking your head. “And how did that go?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Not well,” you muttered.

“What did he say?”

“He said… enough.”

Sara groaned in irritation. “Let me guess—you did not like his words.”

“Seven hells, no,” you scoffed. “He tried to apologize, then turned the blame on me. Said I’d been avoiding him too and claimed we were children when he swore to marry me, so it didn’t matter.”

“Ugh, he said that again?” Sara’s face twisted in disgust.

“Again?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “When we spoke, I told him why you had been avoiding him. And before you start, know that I care for you both, but he is still my brother—an utter fool, but my brother nonetheless.”

“So, he truly said the oath was made in youth, as though it carried no weight?”

“More or less,” Sara said, leaving out the part where she told him of your feelings. “But that’s all we spoke of.”

“I see…,” your voice trailed off, thinking about what had happened later that night after speaking to him. You were snapped back to reality when you heard Sara speak.

“What else happened?” she asked, not letting you slip away that easily.

“Nothing… Well, no, not nothing,” you began hesitantly. “I… I fell asleep in my chambers—”

“As one does,” Sara quipped, earning a sharp glare from you.

“—and I awoke later, likely around the hour of the owl, and… I believe he had been there.”

“What makes you think that?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… for one, I awoke covered by my furs. And…”

“And?”

“I could smell him,” you sheepishly admitted, wringing your hands nervously, recalling how his scent had filled your nose. Sara cleared her throat and shook her head.

“Smell him?” Sara’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Are you a direwolf now?”

“Do not mock me,” you snapped. “You asked, I answered.”

“I’m surprised that he would do that.”

“As am I,” you admitted. “Considering how we parted in the godswood, he had no reason to come to my chambers, let alone lie beside me.”

“Wait, he laid beside you?” Sara’s eyes widened.

“Uh… yes,” you confessed, blushing. “Which only confounds me further.”

“I would be as well if I were you.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m just wasting my time waiting for something that will never happen,” you said dejectedly. “Waiting for someone to love me the same way that I love them.”

“Then perhaps it is time to stop waiting,” Sara suggested, her voice firm yet gentle.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it may be time to consider other suitors. Since your sixteenth name day, you’ve had suitors practically throwing themselves at you, and you’ve turned them all away. Maybe it’s time to think about your future.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You knew she spoke the truth, and you had been wrestling with the same thoughts, but hearing it aloud made it feel real.

“I - I don’t know,” you stammered, torn.

Sara took your trembling hands in hers. “I know it is hard. But you deserve happiness, and my brother cannot offer that.”

Your chest tightened, tears welling in your eyes. “Winterfell is my home,” you whispered. “If I wed another, I’ll have to leave… And I don’t know if I can bear it.”

Sara’s eyes softened with sympathy. “You deserve more. As much as I love Cregan, and as much as I wish things were different, he cannot be the one to give you what you need.”

Tears began to fall, and Sara pulled you into a warm embrace. “I don’t want to leave him,” you sobbed. “I love him, Sara. I love him.”

“I know you do,” she said comfortingly. “But he does not deserve that love. You deserve a man who will cherish you, not one who makes empty promises.”

You wiped your tears and nodded.

Sara offered you an encouraging smile. “In the next moon’s turn, we’ll hold a banquet to welcome the summer. Many of the Northern lords will be there, and it may be the time to consider your options.”

Your heart ached at the thought, but you nodded again, knowing she spoke the truth.

The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room as the warmth of the flames bathed the stone walls. Cregan watched you standing by the window, your thoughts drifting like the cool night breeze that seeped through the cracks. His presence was quiet but undeniable as he crossed the room, the sound of his boots against the floor echoing softly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his deep voice gentle, fearing that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile peace that hung between you.

When you turned to face him, your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of unspoken words lingered in the air, heavy and thick. Cregan’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat of him even before he touched you.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Cregan lifted his hand, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

There was a vulnerability in your eyes that he had not seen before, a vulnerability that mirrored his own. Without thinking, you leaned into his touch, and the space between you seemed to collapse. Cregan’s other hand found its way to the small of your back, drawing you nearer, his breath warm against your temple as he rested his forehead against yours.

Time slowed, the world outside falling away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet of the moment.

“I should have said this a long time ago,” he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. “I…. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to see it.”

I’ll watched as your heart pounded visibly in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent—familiar, comforting, yet laced with the tension that simmered between you for what felt like an eternity.

The confession hung in the air, fragile and raw. Cregan’s fingers gently tightened against your skin, as if he feared you might slip away, but you remained still, rooted in the moment.

Slowly, as if giving you the chance to pull away, he tilted his head, allowing his lips to lightly brush yours. The kiss began softly, hesitant, but as you responded and pressed closer, it deepened into a dance of emotions that had finally boiled over.

You melted into him, the feel of your warmth grounding him amidst the storm of feelings surging through him. Each kiss was a promise, slow and intense, whispering the truths he had long kept hidden.

When he finally pulled away, his breath ragged, his forehead rested against yours once more. “I am yours,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “If you would still have me.”

You opened your eyes, searching his face for any trace of doubt, but found none. There was only the truth of his words, the sincerity that echoed in the deepness of his gaze.

“Yes,” you said so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.

A smile broke across his face, and he dipped his head to capture your lips once more, pulling you flush against him as he wrapped his arms around you. The air in the room grew thick with desire as his tongue battled yours for dominance.

He kissed you like a man starved, as if you were the very air he needed to breathe. As he began tugging at the laces of your dress, you pulled at his tunic, the urgency of the moment igniting a frenzy.

Both your movements suddenly grew frantic, a flurry of clothes being haphazardly discarded onto floor as Cregan picked you up by your thighs and carried you to the bed, your lips never breaking contact.

As your back met the soft furs, he finally broke the kiss, his steel grey eyes meeting your own. In the depths of your gaze, he saw a fiery blend of longing and desire that matched his own in their intensity.

Cregan took a moment to take in your features—cheeks flushed, hair tousled, lips swollen—each detail stirring the emotions he had finally dared to embrace.

I almost lost her.

I can’t let it happen again.

It won’t ever happen again.

His heart was pounding in his chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his lips back to yours, a tenderness in your touch that lit a fire in him.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

And he was going to have you.

In that moment, something in Cregan snapped. He trailed a hand down your body to the apex of your legs and groaned at the wetness that greeted his fingers as he slipped one into your heat. You moaned at his touch, arching your back as he peppered your neck with kisses. The sounds he pulled from you spurred him on as he added a second finger and swirled them inside of you, pulling another loud moan from your lips.

He groaned when he felt your hand wrap around his length and began to pump, matched the rhythm of his own fingers. As he quickened his pace, your teeth met his shoulder in an attempt to quiet your moans of pleasure, and he grinned against your skin.

Cregan draw circles on your sensitive bud with his thumb, and he was filled with pride when he felt your walls clench around his fingers as you came with a small wail.

He brought his fingers to his lips and groaned at the taste of your essence. Never had he tasted something so sweet before, and he wanted more, but before he could make his way down, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips to yours.

He nearly lost it when you guided him to your opening and rubbed the tip of his hardness with your juices, but he managed to stay in control for just a moment longer as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?” he asked, knowing that there was no going back for the two of you after this.

“I want it to be you,” you answered. “Take me, Cregan.”

Cregan saw stars as he finally sank into you. You felt so good. So soft. So tight. So perfect. He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to slowly move, groaning at the way your walls squeezed him. You felt good, too good, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. You fit him like a glove, and he was in paradise.

Cregan’s breathing grew heavy as he looked down at you, admiring the way your face contorted with pleasure as he thrusted into your heat. The way your mouth fell open when he hit just the right spot, the way you dug your nails into his arms, and the way you sounded, pushed him closer to the edge. He was lost in the moment, plunging into you over and over, driving himself deeper and deeper, when he heard it.

“Cregan. Cregan, please.”

Cregan buried his face in your neck as he reached his peak and spilled inside of you with a grunt, your melodious voice being the catalyst to his release.

After a moment to catch his breath, he carefully withdrew himself out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you to his side, with your head resting on his chest. You both lay there in peaceful bliss, savoring the intimate moment you had just shared—Cregan with his eyes closed, tenderly caressing your back while you drew small circles on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. The room was quiet, save for the light crackling of the fire, and as Cregan began to drift off, he heard it.

“I love you, Cregan.”

Cregan woke with a start. He sat up in bed and looked around frantically. The sky was dark but slowly starting to lighten, and he was alone in his chambers.

It was just a dream.

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[mae-gi-writes]

Behind The Crown (Part Two) | Kevin Moon Imagine (The Boyz)

Prince Kevin Moon x Second-In-Command Reader. A Royal Kingdom AU.

Genre: fluff, royal kingdom au, angst

Words: 3K

Part One | Part Two

-------

The sun is shining a little too bright the next day as Kevin peels his eyelids open. For a minute, he allows himself to mull over the peaceful chirping of birds outside, the gentle lull of waves in the distance crashing against the cliff's edge. 

And then, last night rushes back to him like a tidal wave.

He'd held her and kissed her, kissed her till she was nothing but a gasping mess against his lips, until her legs had melted into jelly and his hands had found a way around her waist to hold her up and pressed against his torso. 

"Kevin," she had breathed, and that had only incited him to dip his head down and kiss her once more, addicted to the taste of her. She was pure art that he held against himself and Kevin was certain there was nothing more that he wanted if she was in his arms like this forever. 

"Wait--" she'd turned her head then, causing his mouth to kiss her jaw instead, "this--this isn't right. We shouldn't--" 

"Shouldn't what?" He murmured breathlessly as his lips trailed up her cheekbone, "I'm prince of Meridia, I can do whatever I want." 

Hands on his chest, she pushed him slightly so that she could look into his eyes, and that had only caused him to gaze down in naked adoration. Desire swam in the pits of his stomach, rushed through his veins like a drug that left him light-headed.  

"Don't," her voice was rough, "don't look at me like that."

Kevin gazed at her. His lips tilted up in the tiniest of smiles.

"Run away with me," he answered.

"What?" She pulled away from him, "how is that going to solve anything?" 

"I've listened to my parents all my life, carried out my duties without protest, and I'm so sick and tired of people telling me what to do," he said as his tone hardened slightly, emotion clogging up the back of his throat, "this is my life, I want to be happy with someone I love, someone I care about."

He had always been so open with Y/N, vulnerable enough to let her into his deepest fears and allowed her to treat his wounds like an injured animal. But this, this felt different. A good kind of different. The chemistry buzzing between their bodies was something he couldn't deny, and when he searched her face for any indication, he found the answer he was looking for. 

"What about your parents?" She asked softly, "what about everything that you'd been working so hard for?" 

He hesitated slightly before responding, "I...I don't know." 

They had parted ways without a full conclusion to their discussion, but not without the prince tugging her over once more to kiss her goodnight until she had blushed straight to her toes, a spluttering mess against him as he watched her stumble her way back to her chambers.

Kevin lets out a dreamy sigh at the thought. He knows what he has to do. He also knows that the end result isn't going to be pretty. His parents have so much faith in his leadership, have trained him and built him to be the next king ruling over the land of Meridia. But what good does leadership bring, if he can’t lead with the one he wants at his side? 

“Kevin?” The queen gives him a quizzical look as she peers out of the royal chambers, having heard his knock, “what are you doing up so bright and early?” 

“I need to talk to you,” he says, and there must be something in his tone that makes her features grow concerned, before she pulls the door open a little wider for him to step through.

Inside, the King is busy having breakfast in bed, face lighting up instantly at his son’s appearance, “Kevin! What a wonderful surprise! You’re usually up by noon, at the very least.” 

“Father,” the prince bows, a sign of respect and courtesy, with a hand crossed over his heart. He straightens up and continues, “there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” 

“Good timing, because there’s something I’d like to give you.” 

Now is really not the time to be bearing gifts, is what Kevin’s mind is urging him to say. But he finds that the words die halfway up his throat when his father pulls out a black box tied with a royal blue bow, the color of Meridia’s flag itself, from his cupboard. 

“That’s all yours,” the King extends it out to him, and he has no choice but to take it despite the multitudes of protests screaming through his subconscious. 

“What--” Kevin swallows thickly, “what is it?” 

The box feels heavy and warm in his arms, a little too warm. Or maybe it’s just him, the uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck urging him to tell the truth. 

“It’s a wedding gift,” the King motions towards the said box, “open it. Go on.” 

Wordlessly, the prince slides the bow off before gently peeling back the top cover. A gasp slips out of his mouth when he comes face to face with the crown-- or more precisely, the King’s crown. 

His head shoots back up, eyes wide with alarm, “you--I can’t--I can’t take that.” “Sure you can,” the King says jovially, “you’re going to be King of Meridia soon. People will look up to you, respect you for that.” 

“But--Father--” Kevin takes a deep breath, “there’s something I want to tell you--” 

“And everyone has been waiting for this moment. Just wait till they see you! They’re going to be so amazed--” “But father I--” 

“I can already imagine your crowning. It’s going to be a beautiful spectacle. People from all over the country are coming to see you--” 

“Darling, dear,” the Queen’s voice suddenly cut halfway through her husband’s speech to halt his ramblings. She gazed at Kevin, prompting him to speak up with a soft open smile on her face. 

And that smile breaks Kevin’s heart, for he knows that once the words were said, it would change their world -- their relationship -- forever. Would rock that safe harbour and turn it into a storm. 

So Kevin only dips his head down and bit his lip. His eyes flickered up to his parents, saw them waiting with mirroring grins, and only let out a shaky exhale. 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles out and averts his gaze instead, “nothing at all.” 

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

The moment Kevin opens the door to let her in, Y/N knows that something is off.

“What?” she asks the moment she steps foot into his bedroom. If he thinks that she doesn’t notice the way his shoulders bunch up or the fact that he’s wound so tight she can practically see all the tension holding his body together, then he’s a bigger idiot that she thinks him to be. 

Her fingers are still thrumming with the aftermath of yesterday’s events. But she shakes her head, attempting to dissuade her thoughts from straying in places where they are not meant to go. 

“Kevin,” she says after a long bout of silence, not really enjoying the fact that 1) he hasn’t looked at her once since she got here and 2) he hasn’t said anything when usually, Kevin can’t shut himself up. When she speaks up next, there is a tinge of concern breaking through her soprano, “what is it? What’s wrong?” 

A pause. Then, he turns around like a culprit, eyes cast onto the ground as though he’s done something shameful, something worth being punished for. 

Air catches in the back of her throat, “tell me.” 

“I--” biting down onto his lower lip and shaking his head, he bristles, “I--I’m sorry.” 

Y/N frowns. Sorry? For what? For kissing her yesterday? For declaring the fact that maybe there’s something more than friendship between them? For having made a mistake he now regrets? 

“Look, I tried talking to my father about--” he gestures between himself and her, “about us, about what happened. And how I feel.” 

Y/N stays quiet. Her stomach clenches. 

“I can’t--” Kevin’s alto his shaky, practically trembling with emotion while he shakes his head, “I can’t tell them, Y/N. It--It would break their heart.” 

She’s expecting it. So she doesn’t know why it feels like someone has just gutted her, grabbed her by the insides and pulled out the entire contents of her stomach to leave her hanging and filled with a hole. 

Swallowing thickly and allowing the words to digest, Y/N just nods.

“Please,” Kevin murmurs roughly, “please say something.” 

What does he want her to say exactly? It’s not like she has any choice in the matter. She opens her mouth, closes it when there’s nothing she finds worth saying. Taking a deep, shaky breath and forcing her expression to be wiped blank, she finally murmurs out: 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, your highness.” 

“Y/N, please don’t do this--” 

But she’s already swivelling around and walking out of his room before her legs give out and before her heart cracks in two, feeling like a dead weight she’s carrying lodged inside her chest. She can still hear Kevin’s protests behind her, shouting at her to come back, but it’s not until she hears his running footsteps on the marble floor that she takes off into a sprint, running blindly and as far away as possible as he can possibly be, until she stumbles out through the stables and keels over to catch her breath. 

Tears brim through her eyes like a film blurring the ground before her, and as a soft sob falls from her lips, her head bows in a desperate attempt to regain some of her sanity. She hadn’t known this would be so hard, hadn’t known that there is such pain gripping her heart with icy fingertips before practically wrenching it out of her chest. It leaves her bare, it leaves her vulnerable, and she can’t help but curl her arms over her middle, a pathetic move of self-defense as her knees fall to the ground. 

It hurts. The tears fall silently, a steady trail cascading down her cheeks. It hurts like she’s never ever been hurt before. She loves him, always did. And yesterday night had proved that he’d returned her feelings.

And now? Now it’s even worse, because she knows there’s something great that she’s lost. 

But she should’ve seen this coming. It’s her fault, after all, for believing that maybe her ending would’ve been bathed in happiness. She guesses that it is the price to pay for having fallen in love with a prince, of all people. 

She doesn’t know how much time passes until she can finally lift herself to her feet. Taking another shaky breath and allowing her chest to rattle with the aftermath of the pain, she swivels around and strides back into the castle.

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

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” 

The King looks up from his daily scroll of news transcribed by his attendants, a list of duties to be completed folded in his lap, and catches sight of Kevin striding into the hallway reeking with agitation. 

“Don’t think I saw her around,” the King glances up at his attendant, who only shrugs in response, “maybe she’s training. She usually is whenever she’s off duty.” 

“She wasn’t present at all yesterday, she should’ve been around,” Kevin all but stomps his foot. He feels like a child who hasn’t gotten what he’s wanted, but he doesn’t care. Not right now. The only thing he wants to do is try to talk it out with Y/N. His heart is messy enough as it is, torn between his parents’ expectations and the girl whom he cares for deeply. It doesn’t help matters that he hasn’t been able to see nor hide or hair of Y/N from her escapade yesterday morning. 

“Your highness!” 

Kevin’s head quickly whips back to see one of the soldiers running in with a paper in hand. He hands it over, breathless, as the prince’s eyes scan over its contents. 

“What?” his jaw falls slack in surprise. He turns to the soldier, who automatically bows, “where did you get this?” 

This isn’t happening, his mind chants, no no no, she promised, she promised--

“She gave it to me herself, your highness,” the soldier stuttered with averted eyes, “said that she didn’t want to work for the Kingdom of Meridia anymore, then handed me her resignation--” 

“You’re lying!” Kevin blurts out in a yell, heart skipping in panic. 

“I--I swear I’m not. She--She even signed it.” 

Indeed, as the prince scans to the bottom, he notices her initials. Anger blossoms through his stomach and without hesitation, he crumples the paper into a ball and throws it to the ground, “where is she?!” he hollered, “I want her brought here, this instant! Now!” 

“B--But your majesty, she’s gone back. It’s too late now, she’s already heading to--” 

But Kevin isn’t listening, already walking away with rapid footsteps and all too wrapped up in his own world of desperate pain that he almost misses his father’s words booming from behind him, “Kevin! Where are you going?!” 

That causes him to halt by the doorway, one hand on the smooth Victorian column. He glances back through his curly bangs, sets his gaze upon his father’s for a full minute. 

And proceeds to dash out before anyone can stop him. 

-----------

“It’s so nice to have you back Y/N,” Jacob bustles around her like a mother hen as he sets the hearty potato and beef stew freshly made from this morning. Y/N forces her lips into a smile but only manages to pull up a grimace, which her brother doesn’t fail to notice as he sits down opposite her. 

Jacob’s place had been the only solution to her after she’d calmed down enough to stop beating herself up about how she isn’t a royal and will never be. Of course, he’d welcomed her with open arms and a bright smile, so bright that it had almost wiped out any negative feelings rolling through her. Almost.

However, as much as he loves seeing his sister present and in the flesh -- they always joked that one day she’ll come back to him with one less leg since she’s always been too brave for her own good -- it is clear from her countenance that there’s something more bothering her, other than her pathetic excuse that she apparently ‘missed’ him. 

Y/N’s life had always revolved around castle walls. She’s never really been homesick. 

“Tell me,” Jacob gazes at her now, eyes filled with understanding when hers decide to concentrate on the rice bowl before her. There are blue shadows imprinted underneath her eyes and though she has spent the entire day acting cheerful and somewhat carefree as she usually is, he hasn’t failed to notice the puffiness of her eyelids or how her face gets shadowed in sadness whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention. 

“Y/N,” Jacob prompts, chopsticks tapping his bowl to get her attention, “tell me. You don’t drop by for anything. So there must be something.”

Her lips pressed together. For a moment, only silence reigns. 

A soft exhale escapes her mouth, before she says in a shaky soprano, “I kissed the Prince.” 

“You what?!” Jacob’s eyes go as wide as saucers. He can’t stop himself from gawking at her. 

“I--” she blinks at the tears now threatening to consume her once more, “I kissed the Prince. I kissed Kevin. And I--I--” 

Her eyes fly up to lock on her brother’s own maroon orbs through her film of tears, “I love him,” she chokes. 

Silence reigns over the room as she waits, eyes lowered towards her plate, for her brother to berate her with facts and his judgment about how she could even do such a thing or even get involved in a situation that she knew would end up with complications. 

But Jacob doesn't say anything. She peeks up at him through her curtain of parted hair, surprised when all she finds is a kind of delicate sympathy glimmering across his face. 

"So did you just leave? Without telling him?" Jacob asks softly.

She nods, slightly guilty. It sounds bad when he puts it that way, so she says, "I resigned yesterday--"

Knock knock knock.

The two freeze up in their seats, ears perking up in alert at the intrusion. 

Then, a muffled voice echoes through the door, a voice that causes Y/N's eyes to snap up towards the nature of the sound.

"Excuse me? This is Prince Kevin, from Meridia. Sorry to disturb you. Uhm  I've heard that you are Y/N's brother. Is Y/N here?" 

She blinks, meets Jacob's eyes who are just as wide as hers. 

She wastes no time in diving under the table, much to her brother's surprised yelp. 

"What are you doing?!" He hisses, head swivelling from her crouched figure to Kevin's figure behind the door.

"What does it look like I'm doing?!" Y/N scowls, "I'm hiding!"

"Well, he's obviously asking for you--"

"If he asks, I'm not here. I never visited you."

"But--"

"Just go!"

Jacob lets out a heavy sigh, before he reluctantly slides off his stool and heads to open the door. 

"Hi," there is sweat glistening off the Prince's face when their eyes meet, his eyes already flying over Jacob's shoulder in search of his second in command, "have you seen--"

"She's not here," Jacob hurriedly interrupts.

"Please," Kevin's alto cracks slightly, "I just want to talk to her. Please."

“I told you she’s not here.” 

“I saw her horse. I know it’s hers, please. I know she’s here.” 

It’s useless, Y/N thinks to herself while squeezing her eyes shut, trying to stop her heart from running a thousand miles an hour at the tone of desperation clinging to Kevin’s alto and making her heart tug in all sorts of wrong directions. 

“Please,” Kevin murmurs. 

That does it, causing her to wrench her body out of the cramped table space before she storms over to him, anger slowly simmering in the pits of her stomach. 

How dare he show up here after telling her that he wasn’t going to sacrifice his reputation because of what he wanted in life? How dare does he show up here, unannounced, and expect that she’ll be okay with the whole ordeal. As if watching him dance around with someone else in his arms isn���t bad enough! 

“What?” She almost barks out from behind Jacob. The latter jumps back to let her march through, obviously not new to her temper tantrums, and Kevin stumbles back impulsively, flinching when he catches sight of her scowl. 

“Hey,” the prince of Meridia’s voice is soft. 

“What do you want Kevin?” Y/N doesn’t even try hiding her exasperation, knuckles clamped down so hard onto the doorway that she feels the wood chips biting into her fingers. 

He takes a moment too long to answer. 

“Why did you leave?” 

Y/N is too focused on trying to find a coherent answer to notice that Jacob has gently let himself out of the back door. 

“Why did you leave, Y/N?” Kevin repeats. 

“Did you expect me to stay?”

Guilt swims through his eyes, "you could’ve told me--”

“Told you what exactly? That I didn’t want to see you live your life with another woman after what happened between us? Told you that my heart hurts every time I hear the word ‘wedding’ and ‘princess Delia’?” 

She knows that each word sprouting from her mouth is a dagger aimed straight for his heart. But at that particular moment, she really doesn’t care whether he’s hurt or not. She wants to hurt him, wants him to feel the pain she feels.

For once, she wants him to know how it feels to be in her shoes.

Silence drags out between the two individuals, each staring at each other and Y/N practically rendered breathless from her small outburst. There’s so much going on in his face, so many emotions flittig through his eyes but she’d rather not see them. Instead, she clamps her gaze down onto his soaked-through white silk shirt and absentmindedly wonders why in the world would he wear one of his best attires to head to the village. 

Not that she cares. She doesn’t care. At all. She doesn’t care what happens to him, doesn’t care whether he gets married off or not. But she’s not going to stick around to tolerate it. She can’t. It’ll break her heart. 

A hand comes up to grasp her chin softly, “look at me, Y/N.”

Despite her mind sending out alarms of protest, her body reacts on its own and her eyes slowly drag upwards. What she sees in Kevin’s mahogany pools almost makes her gasp, for they are filled with such tenderness, a fragility mixed with pained guilt, that her chest tightens uncomfortably. 

“The wedding is called off.” 

She blinks. Frowns. Silence. 

Then: “what?” 

Kevin’s lips curl slightly upwards, “I told them to call off the wedding.” 

She can feel something lodged in the back of her throat, “What do--What do you mean?” she pauses, “I don’t...understand.”

"I don't want to marry Delia, I don't want to be King of Meridia if that means losing you Y/N," he tugs her close with his other hand wrapping around her waist then, so that she stumbles into his chest, "all these things, they're not worth it. Not if--" he takes a shaky breath, "not if you're not mine."

Her heart practically soars through her chest, his words totally throwing her off track and causing her jaw to fall open and gape at him as though he just grew a second pair of eyes. 

Kevin only chuckles and brushes his knuckles over her cheekbone, "please say something."

"I--What do you want me to say? What did your parents say? What--No, you can't resign Kevin. You can't do that--"

"My parents have nothing to do with whom I chose to spend the rest of my life with," he cuts her off with a determined glint in his eyes, "I told them that if I'm to rule over Meridia, then I get to choose who the hell I want to marry. And that's not Delia," their eyes lock onto each other, "it never was Delia."

It is relief that Y/N feels first, blossoming through her chest as hope lights up a fire within her. Blood rushes to her face, not knowing how to reply to his sudden confession when she hasn't even been expecting him in the first place. 

"So," Kevin exhales a breath, closes his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again with newfound determination, "will you? Be mine?" 

"I--" her brain feels like scrambled eggs. The agreement is at the tip of her tongue, it's just right there. And yet she can't find the strength, nor the courage, to utter them out loud. 

Because she's scared. She's scared that this might change everything, because it will.

‘Are you sure about this?’ She murmurs.

He nods firmly, determination glinting in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath and letting it seep through her teeth with her next exhale, Y/N finally dips her head down into a single nod. 

‘okay,’ her voice shakes with emotion, ‘okay.’ 

A sigh so loud and filled with relief shudders throughout Kevin’s entire body and he all but collapses against her. 

‘I won’t let anyone hurt you,’ his breath washes against her ear at his murmur, ‘I promise.’ 

And before she opens her mouth to say anything else, the prince of Meridia has already swooped in to catch her lips in a firm, passionate kiss. A kiss filled with all the promises he agreed to kiss, a kiss that rendered her weak at the knees and made her a gasping mess, hands slipping up his neck as the man tilted his head to kiss her a little deeper, a little longer. 

When they both part for air, Kevin lets out the softest of sighs while pressing his forehead against hers. 

“I’m no princess,” Y/N says through a choked up murmur, her eyes finding the warmth emanating from his own in shades of golden warm hues making it impossible for her not to melt right into his embrace.

“I know,” Kevin’s nose bumps against hers, “and that’s exactly why I love you.” 

[get-your-fics]

hostage

Summary: Steve takes it upon himself to protect you after your family was taken in the blip, but he ends up going to extreme lengths to do so.

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Smut, non-con/rape, stalking, kidnapping, violence, language, angst

A/N: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor‘s in the dark! writing challenge. She is an absolutely amazing writer, so please go check her blog out if you somehow haven’t already haha. Congrats on 3k, Roo! You totally deserve it!

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

You tried to slink away from your little sister in the water, but her head snapped in your direction. She waded towards you cautiously, her arms stretched out in front of her. You panicked and started to swim away, not caring how much noise you made. She laughed and started to chase after you at full speed. You dodged around other people in the pool and flashed them apologetic smiles. You found yourself trapped in the corner of the pool, and you cursed under your breath. A hand clamped down on your shoulder and whirled you around.

“Gotcha!” She grinned at you triumphantly.

“No way!” You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her to you. “You had your eyes open the whole time, I know it!” You ruffled her hair.

“I didn’t cheat!” she whined, pushing you off of her. “Now, stop being a sore loser. It’s your turn.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed. You swam to the middle of the pool and closed your eyes. You counted to ten to give her time to move around. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was faint, and it sounded like it was coming from behind you on the left.

You turned around and swam towards where you thought she was. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Her voice was closer now.

You smiled as you heard the splash of water. It was barely audible over the noise of laughter from other people in the pool as she was trying to move quietly, but it was just loud enough for you to hear. You doggie paddled in her direction. “Marco!”

“Po...” she trailed off, but you could hear her right next to you. You reached out your arms, expecting to grab onto her, but there was nothing there. You furrowed your brow. She must’ve gotten away fast.

“Marco!” You waited for her response, but it didn’t come. “Marco?” Still nothing. You huffed. “Emily, we talked about this! You have to say polo!” You spun around. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach. “Emily?”

In fact, it was eerily silent. The only sound was the slosh of the water around you. You opened your eyes and looked around you. There was no one in the pool, and the once clear, cerulean water was now tainted black. Black as ash, black as char.

Black as dust.

-

“Everyone disappeared that day. My family, my friends. That was over a year ago now, but I can still remember it as if it was yesterday.” You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, your eyes welling with tears. You must’ve told this story a thousand times, but it still got to you. “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t forget.”

“You don’t have to forget to move on, (Y/N). It’s important to remember the loved ones we lost,” Michael who led the support group explained to you in a soothing tone. “But we can’t let our futures be ruled by the past. We have to build our lives while honoring the memory of those who are gone, to move on in a way that they would be proud of.” His eyes locked with yours. “Thank you for sharing your story, (Y/N). Hopefully, it will encourage other people to share theirs as well.” He glanced down at his watch. “That’s our time for today. Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll see you all again next week, same place, same time.”

The legs of the metal chairs screeched against the tiled floor as the other people in the circle stood up. They gathered their things, most of them heading straight for the door while some of them hung around after and chatted. You grabbed your bag from where it was slung over the back of your chair and threw it over your shoulder. You were ready to join the rest of those bolting for the exit when a man named Dave stepped into your path.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?” You nodded wordlessly. “I just wanted to say you were really brave for sharing that with us. I don’t think I would have the guts to do that.” He laughed nervously.

“Thanks, Dave.” You offered him a weak smile. He had only been in the support group for a couple of weeks. He didn’t really speak much. The only reason you knew his name was because of the introductions at the beginning of every meeting.

“My parents disappeared in the snap too, so I know how hard it is.” He lowered his gaze to his shoes. Everyone you met had lost someone nowadays. It was the new normal. “If you ever want to talk about it one on one,” he reached into his jacket and retrieved a small slip of paper, “feel free to call me. We could go get coffee or something.”

You looked down at the paper in his hand. Scrawled on it was his phone number in black ink. You took it from him and shoved it in the back pocket of your jeans. “I’ll think about it,” was all you said.

“Okay, cool. Bye, (Y/N).” He waved to you as he started to retreat. “See you soon.”

You waved back and watched him leave. You waited, giving him a head start, before moving towards the exit to the church where the support group was held. You took the slip of paper out of your pocket and discreetly disposed of it in the trashcan next to the doors. Many people had started to reach out to one another, to make new connections to fill in the gaps and holes left from the old ones. But you weren’t one of those people. Your associations were few and far between, and you were starting to prefer it that way. The less amount of people in your life meant less of a chance of getting hurt again.

You kept your head low as you left the church and headed back to your tiny, studio apartment in your hometown. You had been attending the support group meeting for a little over a year now. It was your last hope, but nothing had changed. You still felt like there were heavy chains attached to your ankles weighing you down and holding you back. You still wished that you had been a part of the fifty percent, that either all of your family had survived or you had gone with them.

You took a shortcut through an alley to your apartment and immediately regretted it when you saw a shadowed figure leaning against the building. It pushed off of the brick wall and was on you in a second. You heard the cock of a gun and saw the glint of metal in the dim light of the far away street lamps. “Purse, now,” the deep voice growled.

You didn’t argue with the man. There was no point. He was way bigger than you were, so overpowering him would be impossible. You let out a small sigh before letting the strap of your bag fall off your shoulder. You did what every adult had advised you to do ever and threw it a good distance away from you so if the mugger dove for the bag, you’d have a chance to escape.

The man didn’t move. He stood stock still in front of you, like he was contemplating something. “The necklace too.”

That sent a pump of fear surging through your veins. Your hand absentmindedly reached up to touch the small, diamond pendant dangling from the gold chain around your neck. It had been your mother’s before she had given it to you. “I... I can’t,” you stammered, holding back tears.

“I don’t think you understand.” He raised the gun higher so you could see it clearly. He aimed it directly at your head. “Give me the necklace now, or I put a bullet through your skull.”

You slowly lowered your arm to your side. If you had to die over protecting your mother’s necklace, then so be it. You rolled back your shoulders and lifted your chin. You stared down your nose at the man. He tightened his grip on the gun, readying to pull the trigger.

A hand wrapped around the back of the man’s neck and lifted him off of the ground. The man’s eyes bulged, and he let out a sharp yelp as he was slammed against the wall of the building by another shadowed figure. The figure held him up like a rag doll and punched him square in the jaw. He let go of him, and the mugger dropped to the gravel in a dirty puddle, limp and unconscious.

You pressed yourself up against the brick wall opposite the figure, panting for breath. Whoever this man was, he was unlike anyone you had ever seen before. He was tall and stocky, with broad shoulders and huge biceps straining against the fabric of his hoodie. He unclenched his large fists, and you could tell he was restraining any animosity he had and unbridled strength he possessed. He slowly turned around, his face shadowed by the hood pulled up over his head.

“Are you all right, miss?” You furrowed your brow. His voice sounded strangely familiar, like you had heard it somewhere before.

He reached up and lowered his hood. A slat of light streaming in from the end of the alleyway shone down on his face. He had chiseled features, a strong jaw, short, golden hair. His glossy, blue eyes caught what little light there was and reflected it like the stars in the sky.

“C-captain America?” you stuttered.

A soft chuckle fell from his pink lips. “That’s me.”

That only added to your confusion. “I didn’t know avengers saved people being mugged in alleyways now,” you joked.

“I happened to be in the area.” He leaned down and picked up your bag from where you had thrown it. “But I’m not what’s important right now. Are you okay?”

He held your bag out to you, and you took it from him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” What business could an avenger have in your hometown? Shouldn’t he be off saving the world somewhere or hunting down some big, evil villain? Shouldn’t he be trying to reverse the effects of the blip?

“Really, it was no problem.” He beamed at you triumphantly, his face alit. It was strangely off-putting.

You looked over his shoulder at the mugger collapsed in a heap on the ground. “Is he going to be okay?” There was something odd about the way he was so still. He didn’t even look like he was breathing.

Steve’s face twisted with confusion before he saw who you were looking out. “He’s just out cold. He’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours.” He looked back at you. “Why does it matter? He attacked you.” His focus on you was undivided, like you were the only thing in the world.

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” You forced a strained smile on your face. “Thanks again for your help. Goodbye.”

You started to walk away when he blocked your path. “Where do you live? Maybe I could walk you home.”

“That’s really not necessary.” You wrung your hands together.

“Please, it’s the least I could do. Wouldn’t want you to get into another incident like this one without me there to save you, now would I?” He grinned.

Your smile faltered. “I can take care of myself.”

He raised his brows, like he was taken aback at your response. “Really? ‘Cause from the looks of it, you would be bleeding out on the ground right now if I hadn’t have come to the rescue.” He loomed over you. “Why is that necklace so important to you, you’d be willing to die for it?”

You shrunk away from him and grasped the diamond resting against your collarbone again. “My mother gave it to me. She was-”

“Taken from you in the blip?” he finished for you. You nodded. It was a pretty obvious guess. “I understand how it is, (Y/N). I lost people myself, but you can’t let it rule your life forever.” He extended a hand to you. “Now, please. Allow me to take you home.”

Every muscle in your body froze. “How did you know my name?”

An unreadable expression came over his face, but it was replaced in a second by his usual poster-boy smile. “You told it to me, remember?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No, I didn’t.” You eyed him suspiciously.

He slowly lowered his arm and dropped it to his side. The corners of his lips twitched before his smile slipped from his face. His lips pressed into a thin, straight line, and his blue eyes hardened. All the light drained from them until they were two blackholes in the middle of his face, sucking and drawing you into them.

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way, (Y/N).” His tone was dark and low, and it made chills run down your spine. “I didn’t plan for it to happen like this, but I guess we rarely ever do.”

Some instinct deep in your gut told you to run. You tried to sidestep him, but he was faster than you. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back against the wall. The back of your head connected with the brick, causing your field of vision to go blurry. You could barely see Steve in front of you as he reached in the pocket of his hoodie and took out a syringe filled with a bright green liquid. How did you think you could outrun a super soldier?

You struggled against him, but his arms kept you still. He pressed his chest flush against yours as he jabbed the syringe into the side of your neck. The sharp sting of the needle piercing your skin cut through the dull ache in your skull. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he injected you with the liquid. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right. You’re with me now.”

His voice sounded muffled to your ears. Your body relaxed as whatever he had injected you with involuntarily invaded your senses. Gray, fuzzy dots formed over your already hazy vision until it was completely enveloped in black, and the sweet bliss of unconsciousness took its hold over you.

-

You slowly returned to your senses. You felt like you were trying to move through molasses as you tried to get the gears spinning in your brain again. Your limbs felt heavy and weighed down, like they were made out of lead. Your eyes fluttered open, but you still couldn’t see anything. There was a bag over your head, shrouding you in darkness.

You let out a low groan, and you heard footsteps draw closer to you. They stopped right in front of you, and the brown bag was ripped off of your head. You winced as you were blinded with light. You blinked rapidly to adjust your gaze before taking in your surroundings. You were in a rather spacious room with concrete walls and a cold, stone floor. The only source of light was the singular, overhead lamp shining down on you, keeping everything beyond the pool of light you were in out of focus.

You became painfully aware of the position you were in. Your wrists were tied above your head to a rope hanging from the ceiling. You were suspended enough so your toes just barely touched the ground, keeping you in a state of constant discomfort and exhaustion. Your bones and joints were sore, and you struggled to balance yourself on the tips of your toes. A strangled cry crawled its way out of your throat.

“I know, little girl.” Your head snapped to Steve who stood in front of you. He looked completely unhinged now. His lips were twisted into a sinister grin, and his blown out pupils swallowed all light that hit them. “I know it hurts, but this is temporary, as long as you behave.” The way he said behave made your stomach coil in repulsion.

“Where am I?” Your voice was hoarse and strained.

“Somewhere where no one will find us, where we can be alone.” He lifted a hand to caress your face, and you jerked away from his touch. His grin wavered. “You know, I have to commend you, (Y/N). You are a smart girl. Most people wouldn’t notice a slip up like that, but you are not most people. That’s why I like you so much. You’re cunning, like when you threw away Dave’s phone number because you knew he’d never be worthy of someone like you.”

You bristled. “You were watching me?” He nodded. “Why?”

He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and held up a crinkled piece of paper for you to see. It was a newspaper clipping of an article about you detailing the loss of your family and friends. A lot of them had been run about people after the blip. This one featured a picture your best friend had taken of you on a bridge overlooking a river. Even though the ink was faded, you could make out the radiant smile on your face and the bright look in your eyes. You felt like you were staring at a completely different girl. This version of you was so foreign to you now.

“You lost everyone dear to you in the blip, and all because of me. Because I failed to prevent it, failed to stop Thanos.” He clenched his jaw so hard the veins in his neck stood out. “So I thought that maybe if I followed you for a little while, if I could just help you from afar, I could make it up to you, but it wasn’t enough.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You need me. The only way I can truly protect you is if I have you in my grasp. Our little run-in in the alley showed me that.”

You shook your head. “You’re insane.” He was Captain America! Wasn’t he supposed to be the good guy, the one whose face was plastered over all the posters with inspiring words attached to them? The star spangled hero? The man standing in front of you now was anything but that. He was like a depraved, funhouse mirror version of him. I guess the blip changed us both. “You think just because you feel guilty you can stalk me and try to control my life!”

He chuckled, the sound bouncing off of the walls. It sounded so out of place for the situation and slowly morphed into maniacal cackling. “You know, another thing about you is that you’re really stubborn. You’re so insistent on being alone. I mean, you didn’t even want me to walk you home after you almost died in an alley by yourself!”

“Because I don’t need you, you sadistic fuck! I don’t need anyone!” Your voice shook with rage. Angry tears sprung from the corners of your eyes and dripped off your chin.

“You do need me.” He cupped your face in his large hands, wiping away the tracks left behind by your tears. “More than you realize right now, I know. But we’ll work on that. I’ll teach you to trust me, to not isolate yourself so much. I’ll give you your old life back.” His hands drifted down to your hips. “I’ll make you whole again.”

You moved back as much as possible, ignoring the way the rope cut into your skin at the undesirable position. It rubbed your wrists raw until they were red and irritated, and you could feel wet blood rolling down your arms in thick drops. You screamed wildly before kicking your leg at him with all the force you could muster. He caught it before you could land a solid blow to his gut, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“I know every move you make, (Y/N). I know everything there is to know about you.” He reached for the fly on your jeans. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“No! Get off of me!” You shouted desperately as he undid the button and zipper on your pants. He pulled the denim and your panties down your legs in one fell swoop. “Get away from me! Let me go! Let me go!”

He threw the discarded garments over his shoulder and grabbed your hips again. “Shhh,” he shushed you as he pulled you close to him. “I just want to hold you. I just want to make you feel better.”

He gripped your thighs and forced your legs to fold around his waist. He lifted you up, and you hated the flush of relief that ran through you as the weight of your body was removed from your arms and shoulders. He smirked at you and moved his hand in between your bodies, pulling his cock out of his jeans. Fear coursed through your veins as you got a glance at the size of him.

“Stop it. Get away.” Your voice cracked. You knew it was hopeless.

“There’s no stopping me, (Y/N).” He positioned himself at your entrance, and you didn’t have time to prepare before he pushed in. Your mouth fell open as the head of his cock stretched you open. You tensed against him, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. “Just relax,” he whispered in your ear. You tried to listen to him, willing to do anything to stop the searing burn as he entered you. He slid into you to his limit, pushing you way past yours. “There. Isn’t that better?”

He moved in and out of you at a slow pace. You gritted your teeth and willed yourself to focus on the pangs of pleasure sent rolling through you with each thrust of his hips. Slick coated the inside of your thighs, and he sped up as you relaxed around him. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and embarrassment at taking any pleasure out of this at all, but you were grateful that your arousal meant his rough treatment hurt less.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he grunted. “To touch you,” he carded a hand through your hair, earning a squeak from you as his fingers caught on the tangles, “to kiss you.” He smashed his lips against yours, silencing any screams that wanted to escape.

He tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, certain to bruise. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room as you bounced up and down on his cock. He pulled away from your lips and nuzzled the tip of his nose against your cheekbone. His short and shallow breaths filled your ears, and his white t-shirt clung to his chest with sweat where your bodies made contact.

“Cum for me,” he managed between pants. His hand snaked up your torso to cup your bouncing tit. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You could feel a wall of pleasure building inside you. You twisted your hands in the rope, desperate for something to cling onto. You could no longer stop the needy mewls falling from your lips in time with his thrusts. Your walls clenched around his cock as the wall came crashing down, euphoria washing over you. You leaned your head back, your thighs twitching around him.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He fucked into you at an inhuman pace. You were too dazed to realize he had cum inside of you until it was too late. He stilled inside of you as his cum painted your walls.

Your chest rose up and down violently as you caught your breath. You closed your eyes, relieved that this torment was finally over. Then, you felt him harden inside of you again, and your eyes snapped open. A whine left your parted lips.

He chuckled. “Oh, little girl,” the lustful, dark look in his half-lidded eyes shocked you to the core, “you didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

[the-fickle-muse]

The future has fangs

Colleseum AU timeline. Set post SUF 3k words.

Chapter 3 : Back to bed

So many new questions, but where to start? The gem, Tiger, lay peacefully before Steven and Connie. It's head firmly fixed on observing as Lion rolled his belly up to the bright sky. A warmth had settled overhead as midday marched comfortably onward, a softly blowing breeze filtering through the two large beasts’ manes.

The grass swayed in an inconsistent rhythm. Overhanging branches and rustling leaves greedily catching the sunlight above the resting trio, Shielding Connie’s eyes as she raised her hand up. Then lowered it back down. Over and over, watching Tiger's attention snap from lion to herself. Its tracking was impeccable. Even when she sharply changed the direction of her wandering wrist the gem not once was caught lingering in the wrong place.

Stevens' mouth creased into a thoughtful pout, holding out his hands at arms length before clapping daintily. The same way he remembers the homeworld gems ordering around their pearls. 

"Up!" he barked, jokingly, laughing as Connie all but facepalms at the silly notion. His mocking air of superiority breaking into a shocked stare as his command is actually obeyed, Tiger sitting up with some effort. 

"I didn't actually expect that to work." He admitted, sheepishly, suddenly feeling awkward as Tiger waited on the next order. 

He clapped again, "down?" And sure enough, it lied back down, nestled into the grass with a hearty sigh. 

Connie, whose knees were starting to leave imprints in the dirt, clapped twice with firm hands. "Up." But Tiger only watched, the corners of its mouth turned up in the same patient smile as before. Her cheeks burned, not having enough time to feel caught out as Steven almost doubled over from trying to hold in his giggles.

Just behind Connie's back stood Lion, staring at her like an obedient puppy. His eyes lit up excitedly as she turned to see what Steven was wheezing about, laughing and pushing his nose out of her face playfully. 

"Not you!"

The cool breeze carried a clean, slightly grassy scent under the bustling trees, ruffling idly at everyone's hair while Lion returned to his pleasant sprawl under the sun. Steven unintentionally mimicked his companion by flopping onto the grass in a starfish pose. A groan breaking the very brief pause as he buried his face in his palms. 

"What are we going to do with you, Tiger? Do we leave you here? Do we try to take you home? I wish we could just ask the gems from here.” “Steven… Don’t you have your phone?” Oh my stars.

His eyes jumped back open beneath his hands, looking up through the gaps at Connie who was leaning over him with an indiscreet look of amusement. 

“Connie. I have a phone!” He blurted out, sitting upright so fast he almost headbutted his poor girlfriend in the nose. 

"I can’t believe I missed that, it’s so obvious, I'll just call Amethyst! She's the most likely to pick up-"

My my. The little man really does talk, doesn’t he, so expressive too. And his friend… what a personality. Very fiesty, there’s a fire in there Tiger could appreciate. Though she had zoned out of their little squabble a while ago, too preoccupied with watching their movements to pay attention to their words. That gem in the boy’s stomach. It felt familiar, to an uncomfortable degree, yet she remembered nothing of the chunky lad it was embedded in.

As Steven stands, the cellular device ringing obnoxiously, Connie again began to glare in Tiger's direction. The beast smiled, already sensing the tension in the human's shoulders under the heavy jacket she wore. She huffed a polite chuff of air through Connie's bangs before stiffly getting up and stretching out each limb in turn, watching closely as the human followed suit, curious as to what the strange little people had planned.

Steven's bright smile and waving arms dragged her gaze back to him, cupping the air in front of him while slowly walking backwards.

 "Come on, this way, follow us." Follow him. Or them, rather. Hmm. It was technically an order, one she was very tempted to obey, but worry had clouded her judgement. She didn't move at first, glancing from Steven to Connie and finally the opposing treeline as Lion padded over from his resting spot. 

Would it be worth it? Putting them in danger to obey a simple command? The thought swam in her head, behind thick locks of fur, until it felt hazy and distorted. She felt the compulsion to move in her gem but her body wanted to flee instead. Such conflicting signals came out as high pitched, drawn out whines as she continued to stare at the forest and lightly shiver. 

Connie spoke but the words were mostly lost to her foggy mind. Only zoning back in on the here and now as one of her hands came up to Tigers muzzle and gently waved in front of it. Such a simple gesture was so grounding. Like having a small rope lasso her consciousness back to the present while in reality all she had done was wiggle her wrist at the creature's face. Her whimpering died down to soft occasional grumbles. She sighed deeply and eventually took a few steps forward and the group disappeared into the bushes.

The tree they had been sitting under shuddered violently moments after they leave. Leaves drifted silently back and fourth all the way to the ground, settling at the patches of swaying grass that had been squashed flat. It continued to groan and creak under pressure until finally the weight lifts away, leaving behind deep scratches in the twisted bark.

Lion took the lead, pushing bushes and branches alike aside while Steven followed close behind, Connie and Tiger taking up the back of the little train. Their shoes and paws, leaving a long winding track in the dirt. Overlapping one another like layers of paint on a canvas. The muddled talk over the phone is hushed behind Tiger’s thoughts still buzzing and churning around in her head. Every few minutes turning to look at where they had just come from, and every time feeling a sense of relief as the trees stood silent and undisturbed.

The woods soon passed. From today’s rocky expanse, to yesterday’s battleground, and finally the monolith. Still exactly as they had left it, reaching tall towards the summer sky.

Steven sighed as he hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his bright pink jacket. 

“Amethyst is busy, but Garnet said to wait at the bed and breakfast, she’s going to get Pearl and they’ll be bringing Dad’s van once Bis is finished fixing it. So like tomorrow? Until then I guess we should… Bring them to the B and B?” He gestured vaguely at Tiger as she approached the monolith and sat at its base, staring up at the top in silence. He casually approached the monstrous gem with his hands stuffed firmly into his pockets.

The beast droned quietly and gently placed one of its massive paws onto the stone, dragging it softly downwards, passing over the deep grooves in the pillar with a remorseful air. They angled their claws to line up with the scratches… they scrape, scrape, scraped away. Like a nervous itch, dragging tiny grainy pebbles out of the pillar, repeating the action while Connie stored her sword away in Lion's mane.

It felt like watching someone nervously tap their fingers on a desk. Or scribble nonsense into the borders of a scrapbook. The mindless nature of it reminding him of yesterday. Pacing back and forth, whining, being quick to flee. Thoughts of his own frustrations fluttering to mind. Uninvited and bitter. Pacing around his room, obsessively watering his plants, ignoring the building signs of stress. This monolith hadn't been struck by a vicious blow but by hours of slow scratching. Thoughtless action to vent out unwanted feelings.

His heart ached. He found something so wordlessly expressive almost hard to watch, having to redirect his eyes up to Tiger's creased muzzle where its smile had one been. Without thinking his hand drifted up from its safe snuggly spot in his pocket, softly touching the beast's shoulder. Smoothing over the prickling fur in slow soothing strokes. It was coarse but, as expected, pleasantly warm. Like a bowl of soup on a rainy day. Despite not having a real body, Steven could feel the gem's forearm ripple beneath his touch like a tensing muscle. The scratching came to a delayed halt as it turned to face him.

A slowly building hum from his gem took over the dense song of the trees. He found himself unable to take his hand away from Tiger’s fur. Time dragged along in a barely noticeable crawl. His breathing hitched at the dissociative sight of his hand clad in a long richly pink glove. Panicked, he pulled away from the beastly gem with a shaken expression.

Clearly Tiger noticed the oddity of the situation, as she rose from her haunches and took a single forceful step in his direction, stopped only by Connie who put a hand cautiously on the startled Steven's back. 

"Steven, is everything ok?"

He shook away the off expression and glared back at the beast's face with a knowing frown.

"Y-yeah- yeah, I- Everything's good." A low rumble rolled from Tiger's mouth. Not threatening, but curious, as it tried to reach a claw to his stomach. Her paw was swatted away by Connie's firm knuckles.

"That's enough, whatever you did I don't appreciate it." She barked, taking Tiger by surprise, the gem’s tail swiftly tucking under its legs. 

"We're going back to the B and B, as a group, and you're not going to cause trouble. Understood?" She got thorough nods from the beast, a lot more receptive to the little lady's firm attitude. 

His hand retreated back into the confines of his jacket, easing Connie with a wide smile. It was disingenuous, but it was what she wanted to see. Steven just hoped it would be enough to offset her distrust of the looming beast. 

The remainder of the walk back to civilisation was tense and unforgiving. Connie, still unsure of how to feel towards the gem, had Lion walk in between Tiger and Steven despite the monster's very clear interest in him. The drawl of cars on hot asphalt became louder as the woods began to thin and pull away.

"Do you think it'll follow?" Connie asked, cautiously, stepping out of the bushes to the side of the road. Tiger was still obscured behind a few branches, trotting to catch up.

"I hope so." Steven sighed back, not entirely sure of his own plan either. This wasn’t beach city. Even if it wasn’t too far away, giant gem monsters weren't something people just saw on a regular basis. "We should try to keep Tiger out of the open. If we can get them around the back of the B an' B I think this could work out. The manager was alright with Lion, so Tiger shouldn't be too different." He nodded, already planning out their crossing in his head as a gap in traffic approaches.

Connie hauled herself up onto Lions back, lightly nestling her hands in his mane like makeshift reins. "Hop on!" She patted the pink cat's back before holding her arm out to Steven. Pulling with a great deal of effort as he took it and was hoisted up behind her.

Tiger was still shadowed by the rustling blanket of leaves overhead, the gem swaying back and forth to get a better look at where she was. Some kind of human place, obviously, and as much as she wanted to avoid it the boy was clearly asking her to accompany him. After little thought she hustled up behind Lion, blowing air playfully across Steven and Connie's hair before all four of them made the short jaunt across the highway.

The road stilled. Quiet and unused, while several sets of paws padded across the heated surface. Tiger's muzzle lowered briefly to get a better look but jolted back upright the moment she fell a step behind. The building, now much closer, was nestled at the end of a long road. Further up was town, and further down was an open highway back to beach city. Claws made little pitter letters on pale concrete as they reached the other side. Lion thwapped tiger over the face with his tail, several times, until she gave up being behind the trio and pulled up at their side.

The space behind the building was scattered with the occasional car and a single flame-decal jeep. Trash bins lined the back wall, leading up to a big emergency exit style double door. The handle was a single long bar on either side. Lion's paws were near-silent on the pebbly tarmac, but Tiger's clawed back feet laced the air with clattering sounds every time they hit the floor.

"So… our options." Steven started, twisting to look around as he held onto Connie's shoulders for support. "By the car could work, but she might wander off, or get in someone's way-"

Connie swung her legs over Lion's broad shoulders, hopping down with a smack of her shoes against the floor. Not long after joined by Steven, who was still pondering their next step. Lion grumbled quietly, lifting his chin to lessen the pressure of his thick mane on his sore throat, catching sight of Tiger with her head buried deep in a dark green container. His ears turned towards her in curiosity.

She growled quietly with intrigue, smacking the back of her head against the lid as Connie clapped her hands loudly. 

"Hey!" Tiger's head flew out of the dumpster, and with it so did a full garbage bag, which she dragged out and dropped at Connie’s feet. A large, comically goofy smile broadened across the beast's face, clearly very pleased with herself.

Despite everything Connie had to hold back a tiny snort. She watched as the beast's tail thumped against the floor like an excited dog. 

"Tiger. Put it back." She got a low whine as a reply, having to roll her eyes and put it away herself before the heavy thumping sound returned.

"So in our room it is." Steven announced, dusting off his palms as Connie's shoulders bunched up.

"Whoah, wait, with us? We already have me and Lion in your room, don't you think it would be a bit crowded?" 

Steven squints, both hands clasped together with the pointer fingers at his lips. He took a long pause while watching Lion incessantly bat at Tigers tail.

"Steven, quit stepping on my heels."

"It wasn't me, it was Lion!"

"Growwrrrr?"

"Shh, both of you, quiet." Connie hisses, her outstretched arm stopping Lion in his tracks while Steven delicately shuts the back doors behind the bundled up mess of a group. Everyone jumped in place as it clapped shut a little louder than intended.

Hallway? Clear. Reception desk? Clear. Front room… behind a corner up ahead. She could feel Lion and Tiger leaning out to peer around the corner with her and quickly batted them both away. "Why don't you just ask the manager if she can stay?"

"Because! What if she says no, or gets weirded out, she doesn't even know Lion slept in our room she thinks you two came from outside." He hastily whispered back, leading the convoy as everyone tiptoed up to the next corner. Tiger's broad and fluffy shoulders skewed paintings as she pushed past them, leaving a line of tilted landscape shots in their wake.

The floorboards creaked and groaned beneath their weight as they approached the stairs. The lounge was thankfully empty. Lion bounded up the stairs with relative ease thanks to his small paws and light weight. Tiger however stopped at the first step, looking down at her paw awkwardly, trying to find enough room to step.

"Steven, it can't walk on the stairs, the steps are too small" Connie whispered in hushed urgency, keeping watch behind them with Tiger's tail under her arm.

"Right, right, uh, let me think…" small steps. Big paws. If she tried to walk up now she could leave claw marks everywhere, or worse become unstable and fall down again. They needed something big and stable… "My shield!" He barked, almost a little too loud, before summoning the iconic floral-patterned disc. He hovered it, flat, just above the first step. His arms wobbled under sudden pressure as Tiger stepped up onto the shield, their back legs shifting weight from one to the other with clear excitement.

The walk up was gruelling , but not long, as Connie and Steven both flanked the sides of the shield to push it. Tiger's hooked claws on her two toes made tapping sounds on the wood below the entire way up. 

By the time they reached the top Lion had already gone into Steven's room and Connie could feel a sweat building up across her forehead. 

"You said Garnet and Amethyst should be here by tomorrow, right?" She panted tiredly, the pink thorn-decorated disc vanishing with a few sparkles of light while Steven ran his sleeve across his face. 

It was a cozy room. Nothing flashy or deluxe, just  a bed and a bedside table, with a big window who's blinds were pulled shut. Lion had his head stuck between them, nose pressed against the glass to stare outside, while Tiger peered inside with insatiable curiosity. 

Her muzzle creased and bobbed, mimicking the heavy sniffing of a dog, as she took a cautious step inside. Connie pulled the door shut behind them with a little 'click'. Once everyone was inside, both herself and Steven collapsed on the bed with relieved groans.

"Steven, this isn't how I planned to be spending my weekend." To his delight, she was laughing. Quietly, behind a very drained smile, with her face sunk into the duvet. He grinned a big goofy grin, facing the ceiling with his arms spread in a starfish pose once more. “Yeah. Me neither.”

[hisgirlwonder]

One Shot - Seeing Red

Length: 3k words Warning: N/A Synopsis: Michael has risen to power, with followers and power galore, only for you to get in the way and knock him back down to earth with your own revelation. Notes: Y/n is sixteen and Michael is seventeen when they meet at co-ed witches/warlocks school. Mostly reminiscing on the past and where things went wrong and then it jumps to present day, before the Outpost is created. They’ve been together for around ten years (y/n ends up being 26 and Michael is 27) before all of this stuff happens. I hope you guys enjoy! Not sure if I’ll make a second part yet but we’ll see. PS NO SMUT before anyone gets offended because I will not write any smut about Michael when he’s under 18. PPS. y/n has a rage at Michael because he’s mean in the story, fyi~

It was almost as if it happened yesterday. The memories were so vivid, so clear; you could even remember the perfume you were wearing. But nothing was as strong as the way his presence hit you. You never saw him coming and yet he was a surprise that you welcomed with open arms.

-

You were parked up on a bench at school, eyes glued to the book in your hand; Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, your favourite – you believed that Lewis Carroll was in a league all of his own. Upon discovering Alice and her world, you longed for the day when you’d fall down your own rabbit hole, away from this place. Sure, the school was full of your “kind” but they weren’t your kind. You were teased and mocked for being a dreamer but always knew one day you’d teach them all.

The next thing you know, a blue-eyed angel crashes into you, and sends your beloved book flying. Most boys by this point would have frustrated you for interrupting, but not him; not Michael Langdon. Warmth and kindness seeped through every pore on his body – his presence was close enough to intoxicating. He picks up the book for you and stutters out an apology; admitting that it wasn’t his finest moment, being more focused on the drum solo in his ears than on where his feet were leading him.

He compliments you on your choice in shoes (Doc Martens, 14 eyelet, with giant red roses on them - roses, you’d come to learn, were his favourite flower) and you blushed because when you first bought them your mother criticised you to no end; yes, you were a witch, but to her you should be wearing pink dresses with bows in your hair and pearls around your neck. She envisioned you a la Good Witch of the North and not Nancy Downs.

Michael was a special child who showed so much hope and promise; possessing limitless talent as a Warlock and serving as a beacon of light for those around him. He naturally was the class clown and would do anything for attention but what he really wanted deep down was someone to love; craving the hole in his heart to be filled but he never found it. Not until you came along, at least. He didn’t trust you completely for a while but that’s what a life time of hurt and abandonment will do that to someone. Once he did, on the other hand, that was another story. He finally had a place to make a home.

-

From this moment on the two of you were inseparable; where you went he went, and vice versa. You suddenly changed from “The one who blended in with the walls” to “The one who stuck out like a sore thumb.”  Death stares were abundant from all of the girls who wanted Michael to be their arm candy. He would laugh their proposals off because he possessed a special gift – reading into a person’s soul. He could see their deepest, and sometimes darkest, desires. “They only want me because I look pretty,” he’d joke, “They probably don’t realise that I’m useless in many other ways.”

When you weren’t receiving almost murderous stares then you’d receive ones in admiration. Others knew what Michael had been through with losing his family and revelled in your pairing. You were patient, kind, loving, and gentle; everything the Boy Wonder needed. Many people bet that the two of you would last forever. You did too…. up until three months ago.

This was the time that Ms. Mead, the first woman Michael ever loved, was killed. It destroyed him from the inside out. Over time, he slowly but surely was losing his light - he became closed off and his began to harden.

With no idea where the person you loved so dearly had disappeared to you were just about to lose faith. His return seemed unlikely and your bones ached from loneliness; he was in front of you like a hologram but it was all empty. Your heart longed for a reprieve because you couldn’t bear it anymore and, suddenly, the Universe spoke to you in the most unlikely of ways.

Michael disappeared for weeks, without a trace, nowhere to be found. You had no idea whether he had died or just given up on you, given up on life. By the third week, you accepted that this might have been it. Your heart broke, over and over, at the idea of a life without seeing those blue-eyes you fell in love with as a teenager ever again.

This was the way the Universe spoke to you. It was a message you didn’t want to receive.

-

Two months pass and one night, out of the blue, you get a phone call from a familiar voice. You would recognise it everywhere. It’s Michael.

He rattles off an address, wanting you to come to where he was, and says he’ll explain everything; it would all make sense in time. You didn’t know whether to be angry with him for deserting everything or happy that he was still alive.

The drive to this mysterious location felt like it lasted for years. Your stomach was in knots the whole way there from anxiety but when you saw him again, it all went away in an instant. You wept like a mother seeing her child for the first time. The tears met your cheeks like old friends saying hello; reminding your heart that it still felt, no matter how much you tried to close it off.

Your mood switched from overcome with gratitude at the sight of him to anger – your voice was cold but laced with hurt undertones, demanding answers only he could give. Why had he left? Where did he go? What did he do? The explanation you got from him wasn’t what you expected but you tried to understand anyway.

Michael explained that Mead’s death left him feeling lost so he isolated himself from everything and tried to find who he was. He wasn’t sure if he would but he did and ended up coming back with more than he’d bargained for. Something spoke to him and lead him to discovering who his father was and his purpose in life. Apparently Mead knew all along and was waiting until she felt he was ready to bring it up. Her calendar was marked for his eighteenth birthday as the day of revelation but as you knew, she didn’t make it. Mead was directed by his father to watch over him, to guide him to his rightful place and fulfil the task that had been laid out for him.

At the lowest point of the journey, he stumbled upon a place full of people who were searching for him; your Michael. They were a congregation that apparently were led by his father too. This is where the other surprise kicks in; the place where the two of you stood was a company by day that created Mead 2.0 from the memories Michael kept inside his brain.

One of the followers took a liking to Michael and gave him roof over his head in exchange for some of his time and a “good word” with his father. They conversed about everything and this is where she learned how she could help him – by taking him to those who could help recreate his beloved Mead.

The words stung because you have no idea whether or not he included you, but you let it go. You didn’t question things because you’d had enough.

-

That night, the two of you spent the night becoming reacquainted with each other’s bodies - he felt warm, and familiar, and right, but at the same time something in Michael had changed. You couldn’t put your finger on it but, nevertheless, it scared you. You’d never seen Michael like this before; like a bomb had gone off inside him and set fire to his soul. It was a different kind of passion to how he was with you; it teetered towards the dark side.

His kisses felt sharp and pierced through your core; your powers were screaming at you to pay attention but you tried to shrug it off. You just wanted to melt away in his arms, forgetting all you had learned for just an hour or two.

He became obsessed with his new found influence, the followers he had gained, and the purpose he had discovered. Your relationship took a back burner despite once being the only thing that once mattered. You’d lost him again except this time he was right in front of you, oblivious to it all. He was fading away before your eyes yet there one hundred percent.

// PRESENT DAY //

The days turned into weeks and you were late; it wasn’t surprising, the stress you were under took a toll on your body. You knew eventually it would come but you figured you’d take a test just to be certain and to put your mind to rest.

Your head pops into the office and Michael is in a meeting with a few members of The Co-Operative; a bunch of people who you knew very little about except the fact they were stealing your Michael away from you. Despite everything, you still tried to remain open but it eventually wore you down.

You tell him, “Babe, I’m just going to go and pop to the store. I, uh, need to pick up some stuff.” But it falls on deaf ears; he doesn’t register but this was nothing out of the ordinary for you; this was the new normal. Work came first and you were just made to suffer in silence.

-

On the drive to the chemist, you consider leaving like he did that night but you know that’s not the solution. You wouldn’t stoop to his level no matter how angry or upset you became. Once you’re there, you buy three different tests just to be sure and sit outside on the bench to soak up some mid-afternoon sunshine.

“Mikey would have loved this,” you think to yourself. Mikey was your Michael; the boy who would have climbed mountains and swam oceans for you. This new person, Langdon, is someone who you didn’t recognise. The tears well up in your eyes and you could feel your heart breaking all over again. Looking up to the sky, you ask, “What am I meant to do if I’m with child to someone who doesn’t even want to know me?”

Your mind mulls over the list “what if’s” you’d tucked away.

What if you are pregnant and Michael wants nothing to do with the baby? What if Michael decides he wants nothing to do with you? What happens if he’s kept you around as part of his plan that’s unfolding?

-

As you walked past the office, you notice Michael was finished with his meeting and now, presumably, writing notes on his computer. You didn’t dare disturb him because there was no need to get in an argument about what was going on yet again.

You tip toe up to the bathroom, bag of tests in one hand and the other running over the balustrade. You couldn’t help but contemplate as to which was worse - a pregnancy from a man who made you feel invisible or to live without Michael.

Sitting down on the toilet and the thoughts in your mind change into “If I am pregnant, I will love this baby regardless.” You wouldn’t give up on this child, no matter if the father abandoned you.

After peeing on all three sticks and setting a timer, you sit and wait on the toilet; your face is in your hands and at this point you wanted the world to swallow you whole.  Five minutes pass, feeling almost like an eternity. “Fuck,” you mouthed silently when you check the results; your reaction immediately telling you this isn’t what you had hoped for. You weren’t even sure what you were hoping for in general. You just knew that facing Michael and his wrath was unfortunately necessary and not avoidable at all.

You drag yourself back down the stairs. Your entire body and existence felt like it was currently being weighed down by cement.  

-

Knocking three times upon the office door with shaky hands, you become full of dread when you hear Michael calls for you to come in.

When you enter, you’re greeted with, “Y/n, what is it? That was fairly important but I’ve told them I’ll call them back. I hope this is worth me wasting their time and not some rouse to get attention,”

You’re pacing, unable to form a sentence or think straight. His tone of voice didn’t make anything easier.

“Well?” Michael asks, gesturing with his hands for you to spit it out. “Are you going to say anything or can I just write this off as you being childish again?”

That was all it took for you to lose your cool; it was one thing for him to be stressed and tired but accusing you of things that weren’t true? That was another story. “Michael, for crying out loud, listen to yourself. Where is the man I’ve spent the last 10 years loving? Where is the Michael who would know something was wrong and wouldn’t accuse me of being childish?”

Michael lifts his arms up, pointing them at himself, “I hate to break it to you, y/n, but he’s right here. I’ve evolved past what life once held for me.”

You move from your position and walk over to his desk, blood boiling in your veins. It had all been leading up to now and there was no way to hold it back. You hit your hands down on his desk to get his attention for once. “Really, Michael? Because usually evolution is good for more than just the selfish asshole who is claiming he’s better than everyone else.”

Michael huffs at your remark, “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that-“

You cut him off; unable to tolerate any more of his excuses. “Then what am I? Where do I fit in? I have done nothing but support you and love you through all of this. You forget you’re the one who disappeared on me yet I’m the one who has been picking up the god damn pieces from the things you broke. Have I evolved? Maybe I have because this is some other level bullshit.”

If there was one thing you were good at, it was with your words. That struck Michael with a lot force but he didn’t let it show. His guard was still up, refusing to acknowledge what you were saying, pushing him in the other direction. He groans, “You don’t understand. This is for our future. Everything I’m doing is for our future.”

“I don’t understand? I don’t understand? Huh, that’s really funny. Because all you’ve been doing is shutting me out ever since you found your ‘calling’. I didn’t give a fuck where you came from or questioned it because I loved you regardless. I loved you when you had nobody, Michael! The second you gain followers who you think love you but really only love this title you’ve acquired then what? I once thought you hung the stars in the sky, Michael Langdon. Now I can see that was a lie.”

You throw the bag of tests at him, “How’s that for our future? I bet this fits in just great with your plans, Langdon.” You storm out of the office and the house to get some fresh air. You couldn’t believe what had just come out of your mouth but you knew it had to be said.

-

Michael runs out to you, test in hand and questioning what he was looking at, “Y/n, wait, You’re pregnant?”  

You don’t bother to turn around at the sound of his voice; refusing to look at him at that moment. At this point you’re hurt beyond belief. “Yes, Michael. I’m pregnant.”

He walks around so you have no choice but to see him and that stupid blonde hair of his you loved so much; once a curly mop upon his head, now transformed into long lengths of golden silk. He squats down in front, balancing himself with one hand on the step below. It was the first time you’d felt like equals in a long time. “I’m going to be a dad?” He asks, the worry in his voice was apparent.

With arms folded, you look down at him and roll your eyes. Still sniffing from your overflow of emotions. “Yes, Einstein. Who else?”

He rises from the squat, hands run up and down the sides of his face, trying to counteract the shock he was feeling, meeting together at his chin. He looks like a deer in headlights, trying to process what this all meant. “We’re going to have a f-f-family?”

He could barely say the f word without it being a struggle. Michael never thought he’d see the day when he was going to have a child of his own. It started out as “when the time is right, we’ll try for one” and ended up becoming an echo down a hallway. After someone to love, this is what Michael wanted most. He wanted a son or a daughter to carry when their legs got tired, to be there for, to kiss their knees better they fell down. All of the things he never received as a child.

You shot up from the seat you’re sitting on, snapping at him, “Christ. Yes, Michael. What don’t you understand?”

He doesn’t move a muscle or say anything and is just staring blankly into the distance. That’s when it hits him like a ton of bricks; realising the extent of what’s happened and what’s to come.

Taglist: @sensitivethot @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sammythankyou

[randrvstheworld]

Trekking Tayrona.

I have spent the last two days off the grid trekking through the lush wilderness of Tayrona National Park.

Yesterday began in typical fashion with an 8am 3k run along the beachfront before returning to the hostel & stuffing as much breakfast buffet into my face as I could possibly get away with. FYI pancakes smothered in dulce de leche is the best thing ever. Add several hot sauced-covered eggs & a veritable mountain of fruit & I was all set. After siphoning off everything I would need for the trek we left our bags in the hostel storage room & boarded a very sweaty bus to Tayrona.

Thankfully I have something of a gift for sleeping in any situation & certainly since we left for this trip it’s become basically a given that if I’m on any form of transport - bus taxi plane whatever - I WILL fall asleep. Thankfully this proved to be the case yet again so I missed most of the journey & awoke in the searing midday sun outside the gates of the National Park.

We walked 4km to get to the hiking trails & en route were treated to a family of howler monkeys clambering about in the trees above our heads. One of the things I am enjoying the very most about travelling is seeing all the exotic animals that I have previously only witnessed in the zoo or in a David Attenborough documentary. The sight of these creatures in the wild will never not fill me with childlike wonder. I still get a massive kick from seeing all the lizards scurrying about, this despite the fact that we see approximately 100 every day.

The trek took us through the jungle; the scenery was truly beautiful, wild & unspoilt; huge trees, vines, palms, big rocks & the an abundance of sand-dwelling crabs that live in little holes underground & occasionally peep out to scare unwitting backpackers. In total we trekked about 15km to Cabo de San Juan where we would camp for the night, & the path took us in & out from jungle to beach along the coast line. We crossed several beaches too dangerous to swim in due to the ferocity of the current & huge violent waves crashing against the rocks but we were able to take a very welcome dip at La Piscina. At that point I ditched my clothes & trekked the rest of the route wrapped in a large cotton scarf. My clothes were soaked through.

We arrived at Cabo in the most spectacular surroundings - the campsite was encircled with palm trees, lush green mountains & bordered by two beautiful beaches, huge smooth boulders edging into the sea & rock formations in the water you could swim out to & clamber on. The water glinted with tiny pieces of fool’s gold, making it feel extra magical. We swam in the sea as the sun went down & then ate dinner in the campsite cafeteria. After dinner we retired to the grass for some classic rounds of shithead.

The hike & the heat had worn us all out so we all crashed out early, possibly the earliest I have gone to bed since I was a little kid. The hammocks were sadly sold out so we slept in tents, however given the ubiquity of mosquitoes this transpired to be a much safer option. It’s interesting how ever location we have visited thus far has it’s own unique brand of mosquito that will attack you in a slightly different way. For example in Tamarindo, they left tiny bumps that didn’t itch too much but hung around for weeks, weeping. Here in Palomino, they leave huge, angry & unsightly welts that itch like crazy for 1 hour before disappearing completely. In Tayrona, they attacked with gusto leaving no itch but tiny pinpricks of blood. I keep wondering which of these f**kers is going to infect me with malaria.

After falling asleep reading On The Road with a headlamp (reminding me of all those times my brother & I used to ‘camp’ in the back garden in the summer) I awoke in the middle of the night to the welcome sound of light rain spattering gently on the roof of our tent. When we eventually got up in the morning the ‘fever’ had broken & the air was refreshingly cool as a result. We ate eggs & smoothies & had one final sea-swim & ogle of the view from the lookout point before packing our bags & heading back out on the trail home, sweaty & blistered but nonetheless very happy.

The rest of the day has been spent relaxing at the hostel & planning our next trek a five-dayer in the Lost City. We’ll head back to Santa Marta tomorrow afternoon to hopefully leave the following days for lots of walking & swimming in waterfalls & sleeping in hammocks. Living the dream.