#thank you i already got regular depression

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[kp-alice]

The Puppy With an MAcc

Summary: Despite officially retiring as a professional dominatrix months ago, there's one client you've decided to keep. Maybe it's because of the generous amount he pays, or maybe, just maybe, it's more than that. With the lines between the two of you continuously blurring, you can't help but return every time.

AKA a hopelessly devoted accountant!sub!Yunho x hesitantly-in-love!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 150

Warnings: non-sexual dominance (kneeling, various acts of service, pet names - Miss, Puppy, etc.), crying, implied minor age difference (like 3-4 years but both characters are in their 20s), basically just two cowards in love who are too scared to admit their feelings to each other but love to indulge in non-committal domesticity

A/N: This fic is the second part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

A/N 2: MAcc = Master of Accountancy (I think?? if I got it wrong, please correct me!!)

Your "dominatrix era", as your close friends liked to call it, was pretty short-lived, to say the least.

Well, it's not like you intended on making it your full-time job for the rest of time, anyway. Really, at the core of it, it was mostly just curiosity you wished to sate before getting out into the real world after university. Because of this, you didn't exactly focus on "expanding your empire", keeping only a handful of clients you'd found nice enough to deal with on a semi-regular basis.

The first few months were fun, to say the least. After all, how could you not feel excited at the thought of ordering wealthy men around for money? It made you giddy just thinking about it - you, a normal uni student, making powerful guys crawl around like dogs and thank you for it at the end of each session. Not to mention how good it felt to see them enjoying it too, all that stiffness in their shoulders and the frowns on their faces vanishing a minute into your session. And though a lot of what you did could be described as sexual in nature, you never actually had sex with anyone, keeping things as professional as can be. In a weird way, all of it felt more like a therapy session than stereotypical sex work.

But, as with everything else, even your little side gig had to come to an end a little less than a year later. Because while everything was fun and paid more than enough, you really couldn't see yourself doing this work long-term. Even with just a handful of clients, eventually, taking care of them started to take a mental toll on you. You tried to separate work from personal life, you really did, but as time went on and you got to know them a bit more personally, it was just not possible anymore. Even outside of your dominatrix persona, you felt burdened with each client's struggles and stories, eventually overwhelmed to the point of quitting.

And so, after a few weeks of careful consideration, you finally sent out your goodbye letters to all of them.

Well, all of them except one.

Jeong Yunho was one of the last clients to request your services, sparing him your initial awkwardness when you were just starting out. The first thing you noticed about him was his age - in comparison to your other clients, you were surprised to learn he was just three years older than you. The next thing was his profession. Despite his relatively young age, he had already established himself as the local manager of one of the biggest accounting firms in the country, earning him both a nice sum of money as well as unbearable loads of stress.

Which is exactly what brought him to you.

Unlike your other clients, Yunho didn't overload you with random bits of his tragic past and complaints about his depressing marriage. No, no, his case was much simpler than that.

"I don't know," Yunho shrugged nonchalantly at your question, letting you tuck him into bed, "I get really stressed from making all the big decisions at work and I love powerful women. It just felt natural to combine the two."

Somehow, it was exactly that reasoning that had made you keep him even months after quitting.

You didn't tell him he was the only one left, though. Didn't want to make it weird or make him think there was something deeper to your decision. Your dynamic was perfect just the way it was, and despite its deep and stable foundations, you still didn't dare risk breaking it in any way.

Another thing that set Yunho apart were his requests. Unlike your other clients, his preferences had stayed pretty much the same since the first time you'd talked to him. He liked it when you visited his apartment instead of just some random hotel, and when you wore clothes that could pass as everyday attire rather than the stereotypical leather and latex. His scenes were nothing short of domestic, either. You always felt like a husband from the 50s, coming home to his loving and generous wife after a long day of work (classes) and letting her shower him with affection and praise.

Much like today, as you yet again found yourself on an all-too-familiar doorstep. It had been a few weeks since your last visit, and you had to admit, you'd really missed Yunho during that time. The longer pause wasn't intentional on either side, mind you. It was just a case of his busy schedule clashing with your finals week and the mandatory week-long recuperative period that followed. Now that you were back, however, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips, looking forward to whatever awaited you inside.

Not to mention this visit would mark your first anniversary with Yunho as your client (though you couldn't dwell on that too much in order to keep those incessant butterflies in your stomach at bay).

You didn't have to knock or ring the doorbell. Instead, you fished out your very own key that Yunho had given you a few weeks back. A sign of his trust and how welcome you'd always be in his home, as he'd described it.

Any other potential thoughts were quickly halted, though, as the door suddenly swung open, revealing a very excited-looking Yunho.

"You're here!" He exclaimed excitedly, flashing you a big grin. He stood like that for a second, just watching you in what appeared to be awe before suddenly straightening up again and stepping to the side. "Oh, right, sorry. Come in!"

You let out a small chuckle at his antics, an undeniable warmth blooming in your chest at the mere sight of him.

The next steps were pretty much automatic at this point. First, Yunho helped you remove your coat and hung it up for you. Then, he knelt down, letting you lean on his shoulder for support while he slipped your heels off and neatly set them aside.

"Good boy," you cooed enthusiastically, moving your hand up from his shoulder to ruffle his hair slightly. "Always so happy to see me, hm? Are you all ready for tonight or should I go wait in the living room?"

He quickly shook his head at the suggestion. "No, no, it's okay! Everything should be ready, me included. Oh, and I made you your favorite today, just how you like it! You know the one, the- the..."

You watched him try to finish his thought, but it was too late. In just a few moments, Yunho's eyes glazed over the same way you'd witnessed many times before. He was still present, yet his gaze grew a bit distant, retreating into himself to adjust to the sudden change. A change he clearly needed a lot, considering all it took for him to slip into subspace was the small ritual he'd always done to welcome you into his home.

But just as quickly as his voice trailed off and his eyes lost focus, he snapped back to reality, almost startled by the sudden clarity in his mind.

And there it was. All of his personal and work-related worries had been set aside, making his head feel almost overwhelmingly light and empty in comparison to his day-to-day state.

"What is..." He began, making you follow his line of sight, "what's that?"

A fond smile spread across your lips at the innocent curiosity in his eyes, realizing he was looking at the gift bag in your hand.

"Just a small gift I got for you, Puppy," you spoke softly, watching his eyes widen.

"Wait, for me?!" He asked excitedly, though you could sense a hint of uncertainty in his voice as if he didn't dare believe it just yet.

"Yes, hun, for you," you confirmed, unable to stop yourself from ruffling his hair again with your free hand. "But we'll get to that later, okay? How about you show me what you cooked for us tonight first?"

It didn't surprise you to find out Yunho had already eaten before you arrived. Sometimes, if he was still lucid enough, he'd eat alongside you and chat about random things that came to mind. Usually, though, he'd just eat in advance so that he could fully relax and focus on you only.

You sat at the small dining table, zeroed in on the delicious dish in front of you. Over time, as Yunho began cooking for you more and more frequently as a show of gratitude, you noticed a considerable improvement in his skills. Not that he was bad before, of course not, but now? It almost felt illegal to be paid for your services in both money and food this good.

In Yunho's eyes, though, it was all worth it. The time he'd spend cooking for you helped him ease into the scene, in a way. Even just preparing all this for you felt extremely calming, knowing how much you'd always compliment him and how appreciative you were.

Much like right now, as he sat on the floor next to your chair, cheek resting against your thigh. His eyes were closed as you ran your hand through his silky hair, muttering small words of praise every now and then. This part of your evenings was one of his absolute favorites, as he truly got to just think about nothing. No work or family issues could reach him here. All he had to do was just lean against you and focus on your soft voice and loving touch.

Sometimes (not that he'd ever admit it), when he couldn't sleep at night and felt extra lonely, he'd try petting his hair just like you always did. He'd try to think about your words of praise to force out all the negative thoughts clouding his mind. And yet, it could never compare to the real thing. The warmth of your fingertips just felt different and he could never quite replicate your voice in his head for it to be satisfying enough.

After a while of not thinking at all, Yunho liked to talk. A lot.

While he cleaned up in the kitchen, you let yourself get comfortable on his couch, propping your back up with some extra pillows since you knew you'd be here a while. Like usual, you'd put on a skirt today too, knowing it was the most convenient option considering what was in store for the two of you.

A minute or two later, Yunho emerged from the kitchen, the content smile on his lips spreading even wider at the sight of you. Without an ounce of hesitance, he walked up to the couch, looming over you with his tall self for just a second before dropping down to his knees again.

This, too, was one of Yunho's interesting, distinct traits. Whenever he could, he'd find himself on the ground, looking up at you with nothing but utter devotion.

"People always marvel at how tall I am," Yunho muttered, nuzzling his face into your hand while you finished your meal. "And it's really flattering, don't get me wrong! It's just that... sometimes, I also want to feel small, you know? Even if it means I have to literally kneel down in front of someone."

"So? How have you been?" Yunho began, flashing you a bright smile. As tentatively as always, his hands reached for your left foot, giving you enough time to stop him (even though you never did). "I want to hear everything."

You groaned. "Ugh, don't even get me started. Remember the professor I told you about last time and how he can never grade our papers on time? Guess what? We're still waiting! I swear we've collectively sent him like a hundred emails already and he's still acting like he doesn't see them."

Yunho hums thoughtfully at your words, brows furrowing as he keeps massaging your leg, going up to your calf now. "That really sucks, I'm sorry. I'm sure it's gonna be fine, though. He'll probably be more lenient because of the delay, not to mention you always ace all your classes anyways."

Your leg involuntarily jolted as he grazed a particularly ticklish spot, making him giggle. "Thanks, I really hope so too," you replied, trying to stay focused despite his skilled hands. "It's still nothing in comparison to our dorms, though."

Yunho shot you an inquisitive look, urging you to keep going.

"I mean, it's nothing too shocking, they're just raising the rent again for the second time this year. I really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but just- I wish they were at least honest about being greedy instead of making up random excuses as to why we have to pay even more outrageous prices than before."

"You know I'd love to help you with that if you want-"

"Puppy," you warned in a stern voice, making him immediately hush and drop his head. "We've talked about this, remember? You already pay me more than enough, I can't ask you for any more than that. Besides, the rent thing is an issue of principle, not finances."

"I know," Yunho sighed, halting his movements. "I just want you to be happy and pursue your dreams without having to worry about things like money."

"Yuyu," you cooed, leaning down to tuck his hair behind his ear. "I know you want to help, but please believe me when I say you're already doing more than enough. Not just because of the money, but because of your company in general, okay? I always look forward to spending time with you and I'm really thankful we get to meet like this. Seeing you happy makes me happier than any sum of money you could possibly offer."

There was silence for a moment as Yunho took your words in, still gently holding onto your foot to stay grounded. But even with his head dropped down, you could see his lips begin to tremble, fighting back tears.

It had been a while since he'd got to talk to someone so openly and vulnerably. To just say whatever was on his mind without fearing it would be somehow used against him later. To be appreciated so genuinely without any ulterior motives from the other side.

Sniffling quietly, his hands resumed their work, taking hold of your other leg to massage it as well.

"Thank you, Miss," he said in a mere whisper, afraid his voice would break if he spoke any louder.

"Of course, Yu," you muttered back. "You'll always be my good boy, always," you reassured him lovingly, giving him a playful nudge with your now-free foot. The effect was immediate as a small smile spread across his lips, lighting up his teary eyes again as he looked up at you adoringly.

Oh, how he'd missed you.

After a good while of just talking about anything and everything that came to mind, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. Yunho's hands rested on your shins while you pet his head on your thighs. His breathing had evened out over time, and you could see the way his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. It was time to sleep.

This was usually considered the end of your sessions, where you'd help him get dressed for bed and caress his hair until he'd doze off. He always felt really sad when you left and he hated going to bed alone, so this solved both of those issues. Besides, you had to admit that the sight of someone as overworked as him sleeping so peacefully did something for your soul as well.

"Alright, Puppy," you began softly, making Yunho lift his head up, "let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Ever the good boy, he gave you a sleepy but content nod.

Happy with his agreement, you were about to stand up and lead him to the bedroom, but quickly paused in your tracks.

The softest kissing sounds echoed through the living room, one for each of your knees.

Yunho quickly sensed your tension and looked up at you in confusion, which then turned into alarm.

"I-I'm so sorry Miss, I should have asked for permission!" He rambled in panic, leaning back on his haunches to give you as much space as he could. "I guess I spaced out a little too much and forgot myself for a moment, it happened without me meaning to, I'm really sorry-"

"Yuyu," you interrupted him gently, fighting the smile on your lips, "relax, it's okay."

Yet another thing you really cherished about the man before you. No matter what, he always asked for permission when trying something new. Sometimes, he'd even ask with things you had already agreed on in previous sessions, just to be sure. So to see him get flustered the one time he accidentally got too carried away and forgot to do so? It was strangely endearing, to be honest.

Had you had any suspicions that this wasn't a mere accident, that this was simply Yunho's way of "sneakily" pushing your boundaries, your reaction would have been much more different. You weren't afraid of stopping a session mid-way through and banning your client on the spot; you'd done it before.

But seeing the genuine panic written all over the man's face, clearly scared of upsetting you? He was nothing short of adorable, looking like a small, frightened animal.

"But- but I," Yunho tried again, but stopped at your firm gaze.

"I said it's okay, you're not in trouble," you repeated. "...Besides, it was actually quite cute. Maybe I'll even let you do it again in the future."

Oh God.

After calming your precious puppy down, you walked him down the hall to his bedroom (well, you walked; he decided to crawl instead - after shyly getting your permission, of course).

"Think you can change yourself, hun?" You asked him as he sat down on the bed, patiently awaiting further instructions.

While he always tried to be good for you and not feel entitled to anything, he visibly deflated at your words. "Why? I mean- I definitely can if you want me to, but..."

It took all your willpower not to cave at his puppy eyes.

Alas, you had more important things to sort out.

"The gift, remember?"

And that was all you needed to say for Yunho to immediately jump into action.

The second time you entered his bedroom, this time with the gift bag in hand, Yunho was tucked in bed and ready to go. His clothes were neatly folded on a nearby chair, exchanged for a set of comfy-looking pajamas. He perked up at the sight of you, sitting up and making more space for you by the edge.

"Ready for your present, Pup?" You asked giddily, wanting to hear him say it out loud despite the obvious curiosity and excitement in his eyes.

"Yes, please!" Yunho beamed at you as you sat down next to him, trying to resist peeking into the bag before he was properly allowed to.

But as you finally handed him the bag, his features turned sad, a small pout on his face.

"What is it, Yu?" You asked, worried at the sudden change in tone.

He let out a deep sigh, cheeks warming. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything back. I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate and the internet didn't give me a clear answer either so I panicked. I hope it doesn't look like I don't appreciate your services or anything, that's not it at all, I swear!"

You let out an amused chuckle. "Sweetheart, I'd never think that about you. You already show me enough gratitude as is. Besides, this wasn't even supposed to be a gift exchange in the first place. I just saw something online and it made me think of you so I bought it. I'm not expecting anything in return."

Whether you said something after that or not, Yunho wasn't sure. His mind had already stopped at the mention of you thinking about him outside of work.

Sure, he did that all the time when it came to you, using you as a source of comfort to cling onto whenever he had an especially hard time at work. Whenever he had to stay in his office late into the night, or heard his subordinates gossip about him, only to give him smiles and compliments the second they noticed him, thoughts of you were the only thing that could ground him again. And even when he was doing alright, he still liked to think about you, reminiscing on your past sessions and looking forward to the next. But to have you do the same with him?! Yunho's heart felt like it would leap out of his chest if he didn't calm down soon.

"...Well? Aren't you gonna open it?" You nudged his thigh with your hand, a playful glint in your eyes. "You looked so excited before, don't you want to see what's inside?"

Yunho didn't need any further enticing, flashing you a big grin before he finally reached into the bag. Inside, he found a pretty, dusty pink box with an unknown brand name embossed into its center.

With shaky hands, he lifted the lid.

"What do you think?" You asked, nervously scanning his face.

Yunho was frozen, stuck staring at the custom-made leather collar. Attached to it was a silver tag gleaming in the dim bedroom lights, the word "YUYU" engraved into it staring right back at him.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" You spoke again, trying to hide your growing concern. "We can totally return it if you don't like it, I won't be-"

All the words died in your throat as Yunho suddenly lifted his head, looking right into your eyes as his bottom lip trembled, fighting back tears. The second he spoke, however, they spilled over anyway.

"It's perfect."

"Oh, Puppy," you cooed as a sob ripped through him, bringing him into a tight embrace. The anxiety weighing down on your chest immediately dropped at his words, making you sigh in relief. His hands clutched at your shirt, almost desperately so, wetting your shoulder as he sniffled in your hold.

You stayed like that for a moment or two, soft snivels and affectionate whispers filling the room.

"I- I've never," Yunho began, but quickly stopped again, hiding his face in the crook of your neck some more. It was right then that you'd noticed the unusual proximity between the two of you, never staying this close for more than a second or two when he occasionally hugged you goodbye instead of you tucking him in. But now, it felt as though you were enveloped in him, his comforting warmth and light cologne all around you.

"It's okay, hun," you encouraged him gently, "take your time."

Yunho exhaled heavily, as if steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next.

"It's just- this is everything I've ever wanted but never actually dared wish for, and now that it's real, now that you're real, I don't even know what to say."

Reluctantly pulling away from your embrace, he reached back to retrieve a few tissues from the bedside table. "Every day, I have so many people relying on me, so many people waiting for me to make a mistake so that they could take my place, have to deal with so many awful clients while acting like none of it affects me, and it's just- it's so hard. I've always wanted to have someone who I could be vulnerable with, who I could confide in without fearing they'd use it against me later, but it always seemed too good for me. And then you appeared, and you've made my life so much more bearable, made me look forward to every day because it meant I'd get to see you soon again. No amount of words or money could ever match just how thankful I am for you, seriously."

"Yunho..."

Stunned by the sudden confession, you silently sat and processed his words. Yunho just smiled at your shocked expression, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I know this is a lot to unload on you so suddenly, so please don't feel like you have to respond to any of this right now. We can just brush past this and never discuss it again, I won't be upset. It's just something I've been thinking about a lot lately, and seeing you care for me so honestly made me finally tell you, I guess. Like I said, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but just know that if there's anything, and I mean anything, that I could do for you, just say it and I'll do it. Even if it's something small, like confiding in me the way I do with you, I'm always here for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his offer, unconvinced. "I'm not really sure you want that, Yu. All of my problems are pretty repetitive and boring, not to mention how annoying and stubborn I can get when stressed. Wouldn't want to break the illusion you have of me, you know?"

...A hand gingerly grabbed yours.

"And what if I tell you that's exactly what I want?" Yunho challenged, a more genuine, playful smile on his lips this time. "I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know you're much more than the persona you put on when you visit me. I want to know the real you, good and bad included - if you'll let me, that is. You already have the keys to the apartment, don't you? My home is open to you anytime, even outside of our sessions."

Just as Yunho had said, this was a lot to unpack on the spot.

And yet, somehow, deep down in your heart, you already knew your answer to his confession, even if you didn't fully want to admit to it just yet.

"I mean," you began hesitantly, mulling everything over as carefully as you could, "there's no harm in trying it, right?"

Yunho's eyes lit up at your words, looking at you hopefully.

"Besides, I come here so often it feels like a second home anyway."

He gave you a thoughtful nod. "Yeah, same here."

"What do you mean?" You asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Exactly what I said before - you." His grip on your hand tightened, the other pointing to the collar sitting in front of him. "I've found my second home in you."

Silence.

It felt as though the Earth had stopped spinning for a second. Everything around you faded into nothingness, leaving you to stare into his eyes.

You don't know for sure how his lips ended up on yours, but judging by the surprised noise coming from him, it must have been you who'd initiated the kiss. Not a second later, however, he replied with matching enthusiasm, resting his palm against your thigh to lean in even closer.

In spite of every cell in your body screaming at you to stay, you eventually pulled away, giving the two of you a chance to breathe. Yunho's gaze was nothing short of reverent, looking at you like you've hung the stars in the sky.

"So? Would you like to try on your present?"

Yunho refused to believe any of this was real.

No matter how much you tried to convince him to take it off, Yunho refused to sleep without his collar. Looking at the way it pressed into his neck when he lay down, you knew there was no way it could be comfortable to sleep in. And yet, Yunho insisted that it was fine, that it actually felt nice despite the way it was smothering his Adam's apple. In the end, you had no option but to concede, tucking your overgrown puppy into bed with the collar still around his neck.

But as you were about to get up to turn the lights off, a hand grabbed yours to stop you. You looked back down at Yunho, being met with his signature pout and teary eyes.

"I know this is a lot to ask, especially considering how much I've asked of you today already, but... stay? Please?"

You gave him a long look, considering your options. Or pretending to consider them, rather, since there was no way you'd be able to deny him anything right now.

"Only because you've been such a sweet boy today, okay?" You said, trying to sound reluctant even though you weren't fooling anyone.

You quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, boldly taking one of Yunho's sleep shirts with you to change into.

Despite his eyelids growing heavier by the second, Yunho bravely fought to keep them up until you'd arrive, sighing in relief when the bathroom door opened again.

No more words were needed as you plopped down next to him, joining him under the blankets before moving to rest your head on his chest. Despite no visible reaction from him, you could hear his racing heartbeat below you, making a soft smile creep up on your lips.

Within the next two minutes, you heard his heart eventually calm down again, breaths evening out as he fell asleep. It took you a while longer to follow, mind struggling to relax with so many thoughts racing through it. What did all of today mean for your relationship? How professional will you be able to stay with him after this? You should probably tell him you haven't had any other clients for months now, shouldn't you.

No use worrying about it now, you suppose. All of those concerns can be solved only once Yunho wakes up again. And until then, you have no choice but to enjoy whatever it is that you have right now, no matter how ambiguous.

Snuggling further into his chest, you finally doze off as well.

Whatever this is, it's perfect.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[lesservillain]

older!alpha!steve harrington x younger!omega!reader

cw: SMUT, omegaverse dynamics, unprotected piv, modern setting, steve is a divorcee and single dad, steve is in his early 40s and reader is in their mid to late 20s an: this is just a self indulgent lil one shot bc i love older men ugh

“She was totally checking you out, by the way.”

Steve pushes the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his attempt to hide the pink that dusts over his cheeks at Robin’s comment.

“What? No she wasn’t. Don’t do this today.”

The plastic of the menu bends in Steve’s grip by Robin’s ringed fingers. He tries to focus on the suns glare hitting the laminated paper rather than his best friend’s knowing gaze. He hates that she does this to him.

 It wasn’t their first time at this diner, nor was it their first time being waited on by you. What started as Robin’s attempt to get her depressed best friend out of the house after a quick but painful divorce has turned into a regular bi-weekly Sunday outing for the pair. And thanks to Robin’s commitment to a bit, she makes sure to arrive before Steve every time to sit in your section, all because she caught Steve checking you out one time.

“Why don’t you believe me that she likes you?”

“Robin—”

“Steve.” The tired battle of lifting Steve’s confidence was one that Robin refused to lose. “How many times do I have to tell you that you still got it? A little gray hair and a dorky mustache is, like, the new six pack abs for girls in their 20s.”

“Oh, god, do I need to have Hailey touch up my hair already?” Steve’s hands fly to cover the sides of his hair where his grays tended to show the most. The sudden movement sent his menu flying down to land on the floor next to him. 

“Shit—”

“Here you go—”

Skin meets skin when you went to grab the flimsy plastic at the same time as Steve. A shock wave runs from Steve’s finger through the rest of his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hazel eyes jump up to meet yours, and he can feel the breath from your gasp on his cheek. You shoot up, frozen in place as you look down at him. The tension is palpable between you. 

Suddenly, you bolt, leaving Steve still leaning over his seat as he watches you take off out of sight.

“What was that about?” The tone in Robin’s voice had Steve sitting up straight, annoyance clear in his expression.

“What was what, Robin?”

“Um, are we just going to ignore that pheromone drop you just did?”

Steve shifts in his seat, eyes wide as he looks around the diner. A few heads were turned to him, mostly older alpha’s with death glares as their marked omega’s sit blissfully unaware across from them. “Sorry.” He says in a hushed apology, shrinking back into his booth seat.

“Well, at least we have confirmation your girlfriend is an omega,” Robin says over a sip of her coffee. Steve’s ears perk up, but he does his best not to show his interest in the topic of you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “I honestly probably just scared the shit out of her. Did you see how fast she ran off?”

“I’m sure you were watching.” Steve’s head falls back with a scoff, making Robin giggle at his embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“Thank you.”

“Are we ready to order?”

Robin and Steve turn to the waitress at the end of the table, immediately noticing she’s not you. They give the girl their order, and Steve can’t help but feel some type of way about how you would have just asked them if they wanted their regulars. With a heavy sigh Steve stares at the table’s vintage pattern until Robin calls his name. Her expression is soft, knowing in a way that is both relieving and disheartening.

“Maybe she’s on a break?”

“She hates me.”

“She does not hate you.”

“Yes she does. I’m a grown man who couldn’t control his pheromones all because a pretty girl touched his hand? We should probably just leave.”

Robin grabs Steve’s arm with a laugh as he attempts to make an escape from their booth. “Steve, it’s fine. I doubt you’re the first person that’s done that to her. Just relax.”

Steve sighs and nods. “Okay, okay. I’m good now.”

SPACE

“So you’re good to pick up the girls from practice this week, right? I’m hoping that this project will be wrapped up by Thursday--”

“Of course, Steven,” Robin says as she opens her car door. “You think I’d ever turn down the chance to spend time with one of my favorite nieces?” 

“I just want to make sure. I don’t want to give Becca any ammunition against me, you know.” Steve’s hands flex, thinking back to the argument him and his now ex wife had those months back.

Robin opens her mouth, but decides against whatever she had to say, simply nodding instead. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve nods back, watching as Robin gets in her car and drives away. He leans back to see her car disappear down the road before swinging his own door open and leaning inside. Reaching into his center console, he pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter, bringing the butt to his lips and flicking the lighter. The flame refuses to stay, however, the clicking grating his ears with every failed attempt causing him to curse.

“Need a light?”

Steve spins around, bewildered, large hazel eyes like saucers when they land on you. A bright pink lighter sits between your fingers, and with a flick the flame emerges, waiting for him to lean in. He puffs until the heat hit his throat, pulling back to take in a deep drag, letting the smoke blow upward above him. 

When he looks back down at you, you’ve barely moved. Eyes lidded slightly and lips parted just so, almost like you were mesmerized by him. It makes Steve chuckle out of nervousness, not used to being ogled at his “big age” as his daughters would say.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile that seems to bring you back to this planet, eyes blinking rapidly before you pull out your own pack of cigarettes. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your eyes flicker up to him for a moment before giving yourself a light.

“You’re too pretty to be smoking,” Steve says passively, smoke billowing out between his own lips.

You look up at him through your lashes. For a brief moment you look annoyed at his comment and Steve is sure he fucked up again. The words of his oldest going on about how men shouldn’t comment on what women do rings in his ears and he wants to slap himself.

“Well, I could say the same for you.” There’s a teasing lit in your words, but the cute shuffle and bounce combo that you do gives Steve butterflies as it fuels his delusions. 

Channeling his former self, his mind shifts into King Steve mode after 20 years of retirement. He takes a step into your space and internally celebrates when you don’t move away. “Awe, you think I’m pretty?” The tone of his voice surprises him, coming out more sensual than he intended. But your reaction tells him that he must be doing something right.

“You’re definitely nice to look at.” Your words come out even but breathy. Was he really having this effect on you? Maybe Robin wasn’t wrong about him still having it in him.

“Oh, so you like to look at me?”

“Only for about an hour every other Sunday.”

Steve sucks in a breath. The way you’re looking at him right now is making him have thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the very public parking lot of your workplace. But he can’t get over the fact that you’ve been looking at him of all people.

“Is-is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, taking a drag of your cigarette and blowing it out. “Would be nice to look at you for an hour from a different angle sometime.”

Steve coughs on his hit, completely thrown off by your forwardness. But you don’t seem to be deterred, rather you close the gap between the two of you, chests touching as you look up into his eyes.

Lips move in a feverish kiss as Steve pins you against his front door, keys fumbling in his hand as he attempts to unlock it while keeping the two of you connected. You giggle against his neck when he pulls away, leaving a few kisses against his skin as he finally gets the door open. His hands fly to your hips, walking you backwards into his home where his lips crash into yours once again.

“Nice place,” you say as he moves to leave heated kisses against your neck.

“Thanks,” he says between nips on your skin. A low groan pulls from his chest when he feels your hand slide down to palm at his crotch. A smirk forms on his lips at the little gasp you let out when you feel his size, and he bucks his hips into your hand playfully.

In one swift motion he lifts you up and over his shoulder, delighted by your laughter filled squealing as he carries you to his bedroom. Kicking the door open with a gentle shove, he walks you over to his king size bed and plops you down on the comforter. The huge smile and wild look in your eyes spurs him on, all the blood in his body rushing to his dick when you reach your arms out for him. 

Steve pulls off his shirt with haste, and your eyes fix on the healthy patch of hair that covers his chest that tapers down his stomach to where it disappears into his jeans. He feels a little self conscious under your gaze, but the way your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking across your bottom lip has him climbing over top of you to chase it with his own. 

Hands move between your bodies and clothes go flying until the two of you are fully exposed to each other. Steve’s hard, leaking cock presses into your thigh, laying heavy against your already hot flesh. Your fingers run through his soft locks as his mouth attaches to your breast, nipping and biting until his mouth reaches your hardened nipple. 

While his mouth pays your sensitive chest attention, his large hands have wandered down between your legs and began running his fingers through your folds. His fingers skim over your clit with each stroke, sending little jolts through your body.

“God, you’re so wet,” he breathes out, his blown out pupils meeting yours.

“Just for you,” you say with a smirk, one that turns into an open mouth moan when he finally plunges a finger into your waiting cunt. 

There’s no mercy as his fingers move inside of you just right, hitting that spot with a curled finger over and over. Your hands grip his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away but he doesn’t relent. He just watches the way your face contorts as another thick finger joins in stretching you out for him. 

“So beautiful.” Steve doesn’t even realize he’s said it out loud, but he can’t think of another word to describe the way you look under him. “Doing so good for me, honey.”

His praises send you over the edge and you cum hard on his fingers. The way you squeeze his fingers mixed with the smell of your pheromones releasing has Steve’s cock twitching in anticipation. When you come down from your high, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and pull him in for sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

“Mmm, gonna need you to fuck me now, big boy,” you say into his ear, tongue licking at his lobe in a way that makes his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Your soft hand slides down between the two of you to grab his cock and pump it a few times in your hand. “Do you have any condoms?”

Steve freezes above you. 

“Um, well no…” he stutters. “Me—uh, my wife— ex wife—,” he looks at you directly with his clarification, “she had her tubes tied so we, um, we never used them so I don’t have—”

You put a finger over Steve’s lips, hushing his babbling immediately. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a sympathetic look, “I understand. We can stop…or.”

“Or?” Steve asks.

“Or, if you don’t care…then I don’t care? Just pull out?”

Steve felt like he was going to bust in your hand as it worked his aching cock. Deep down he knew it was irresponsible. But the way you were making him feel was lowering his inhibitions. And when was the last time he’d ever been reckless? 

“O-okay,” he swallows dryly, “I’m okay with that. But, um, I do want to be transparent with you.” Your head tilts to the side waiting for his response. God, could you be any cuter? “I, um, I haven’t been with an omega in, like, 20 years. So, I just—just know I’m not sure how long I’m going to last, you know…”

“Your wife—”

“Ex wife—”

“Ex wife, she wasn’t an omega?”

Steve shakes his head. He’d never been one to care about second gender dynamics. Sure, there were elements to their alpha x beta relationship that didn’t fulfill him like an omega would, but he loved Becca all the same during their relationship.

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve is sure he’s completely ruined the moment between the two of you. He’s mentally preparing himself to take you back to your car, but you suddenly move beneath him in a way that flips him on his back. He watches as you straddle his lap, your dripping cunt hovering just above his cock where you still have your hand wrapped around it.

“You poor thing,” you say with faux perturbance, lowering down far enough that you can rub yourself against his length. “Gone all these years with no omega to make you feel good?” Steve nods dumbly, completely entranced by the dynamic shift between you. “Do you want me to fix that for you? Wanna fill me up with your alpha cock?”

“Yes—yes, please.” His voice comes out a pathetic, whiny plea as his glassy eyes stay laser focused on yours.

Without warning you sink down onto his cock, both of you moaning out at the sudden connection. Even with him stretching you out on his fingers and the amount of slick your body produced, your tight cunt still squeezes Steve like a vice as you take each inch of him like a champ. You move up and down, working yourself open on him and Steve can barely stand it, wanting to grab your hips and move you himself. But Steve breaths through it, nostrils flared,  until you’re seated completely against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“Hooooly shit,” he breathes out. Steve needs a second to keep himself from cumming too soon, but it’s a second that you don’t spare him as you begin to bounce on his cock. Leaning over him, your hands rest against his chest, giving him the perfect view of your tits as they bounce in his face. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan out, brows pinching as the head of his cock reaches deep inside of you. “Even for an alpha, you’re s-so fucking big.”

Steve finally lets his hands grip on your hips, but instead of moving you how he wants, he fights against you to still your movements. 

A pout forms on your lips as you look down at him, and Steve wants nothing more than to shove his cock in your mouth to get rid of it. But, you feel too good wrapped around him so he takes his thumb and pushes it past your lips instead. Immediately you begin to suck and mouth on it, slowly grinding your hips against him to get any bit of friction between you.

When he pulls his thumb from your mouth, it lands on your clit to rub slow circles into it. You whine at the stimulation, trying to buck your hips faster in order to chase your high. 

Loosening his grip, he lets you move against him again. Steve watches in awe at the way you come undone above him, picking up the pace on his thumb as you move with little rhyme or reason. He feels your body stiffen, jaw dropping with a silent scream as your cum all over his cock, your slick coating his balls and dripping down onto the bed sheets underneath you.

Steve is generous enough to give you a second to come down before he’s pulling you off of him and back onto the bed. He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, the far off look in your eyes fading away as you look up at him with a satisfied grin.

“Did so good, sweet girl,” Steve says between peppered kisses against your face, making you beam. His gentle hands maneuver your limp body until you're flat on your stomach. He rubs up and down your back until his grip lands on your ass, kneading at the flesh there and spreading you apart for him to admire.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Steve praises. Your body jumps when you feel his fingers run through you again, followed by an almost pained groan. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Steve’s fingers in his own mouth, eyes squeezed shut as he savors the way you taste. “Fucking amazing. Forgot how good omega pussy is.” 

You hum at his words, finding the energy to raise your hips to present yourself to him, wiggling them back and forth. “Why don’t you come get some? Straight from the source.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide with shock. “Really? That’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” you say with a chuckle. “Why would it not be?”

Steve wants to bring up how his ex would only let him go down on her when they had the time, which wasn’t often for two full time parents. But, he didn’t want to bring the mood down by bringing up his wife or how he felt like he might have been bad at it since she never wanted it.

“I just, uh, wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you say, moving your hips playfully, “Less talking and more doing then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve salutes before diving in tongue first. The taste of you is like divine nectar in his mouth. Something he could see himself getting addicted to if given the opportunity. 

Flattening the thick muscle, he pushes it between your folds and licks a long stripe from your clit to your hole, letting the tip catch on it teasingly. He feels your body shiver under him, sending a confidence boost through his veins that encourages him to keep going.

Another quicker swipe through, but this time he lets his tongue slip into you completely. His thumb makes its way back to your clit, working it in tandem with his tongue in a way that makes you dizzy. Then, they switch places, his lips wrapping around your bud to lick and suck while his fingers curl inside you, his nose right up against your slit.

Steve feels the way you squeeze around him, familiar enough now that he knows your third orgasm is quickly approaching. But the thought of not feeling you cum on his cock has him pulling away from you all together. He laughs when you let out a whine, only for it to turn into a moan when he pushes the head of his cock inside you. He watches the way it pops in, disappearing in your tight cunt as you suck him in.

He wants to take his time with you, but the way you push back against him has him laughing. “Okay, I’m sorry, sweet girl. No more—teasing.” He punctuates the last word with a snap of his hips, thrusting all the way inside of you. His heavy balls audibly slap against your clit. 

Steve manhandles your hips until they’re just where he likes them and begins to pound into you. Not too aggressive, but hard enough that his bed frame hits the wall with every thrust. Your vocalizations echo off the walls in competition, and he’s never been so thankful that his kids were staying with their mom for the weekend, because he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to tell you to stay quiet like he was used to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Steve! Oh my god, fuck me, Steve!”

Steve is sure he can taste blood from how hard he’s biting his bottom lip. His mind feels like it’s turning to mush again, pussy drunk from how right it feels to be inside you. Biology be damned, but he couldn’t deny it.

Slumping forward, Steve’s arms wrap around you and pin you to the mattress below him. His nose presses into the back of your neck, nostrils flaring again as your sweet scent fills them up. Drool spills from his mouth and onto your skin, and every fiber of his being is screaming at him to bite down onto that sensitive spot. He lets a canine drag against it, and he sees the goosebumps forming on your skin. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Steve feels you cum on his cock, body shaking and eyes rolling back as you cry out. It’s all too much for Steve, bringing him to the edge where he’s about to cum himself. 

He goes to pull out, but struggles as your body pins his arms under you. “Shit, shit!” He panics, only managing to pull out about halfway, unable to stop himself from cumming inside of you. 

Steve knows that he should feel bad, and he probably will once he finally stops cumming. But, at the same time, he’s pretty sure he’s never cum so hard in his life. And before he knows it, he feels the blood rushing into the base of his cock where it begins to swell. He pulls out of you just enough that his knot sits snugly against your hole, practically begging to be inside of you.

“Holy shit, did you knot?” You pant against his bed sheets, turning your body to look back at him.

“Y-yeah,” He pushes himself off of you, sitting back on his knees. He looks at the way his knot is pressed against your entrance, feeling only a slight resistance when he rocks forward a bit.

“I’m surprised you pulled it out,” you say, giving him a look that he isn’t sure how to read. Heat creeps all over his body as the guilt starts to set in.

“I was trying to pull all the way out, I promise. I’m so sorry. We can stop at the drugstore on the way back to your car and—”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay.” 

He feels the way you push back into his knot, rocking back and forth on his still hard length while his cum subtly starts to leak out of you. 

“Yeah?” He asks again, eyes locked on his knot as you work yourself open on it. You’re so tight, but he can feel the resistance starting to give. Maybe if he just…

“Oh my god!” You squeal out. With one hard thrust, Steve was able to push his knot fully inside of you until it locks in place. Whether it be the natural connection between an alpha and an omega or, if your pussy was just that good, Steve can’t help but cum again, filling your already stuffed pussy up with more of his seed. 

“It’s…it’s..”

“What is it, Stevie baby,” you ask in a sugary sweet voice, mind clearly on cloud nine from the soft look on your face. 

“It’s just, it’s been so long…so long since I’ve felt like…”

“Awe, come’er,” you motion for him to lay with you, and Steve follows your command, taking you in a strong arm and maneuvering you both comfortably onto your sides. Underneath the covers, the two of you hold each other like you’ve been doing this for years rather than being a random Sunday afternoon hookup. The hairs of his mustache tickle the skin on your shoulder where he leaves kisses over and over again.

The two of you are quiet as you lay there in his bed. Steve’s mind races as the post nut clarity kicks in. Guilt plagues his brain first, but not in the way he thought it would. He thought he would feel guilty about sleeping with someone he didn’t vow his life to almost 20 years ago, but that’s not the case. Instead he feels guilty wishing he’d not wasted all those years with someone who couldn’t make him feel like this. All those years of putting her needs first…

“Are those your daughters?”

Steve’s head pops up to look over yours. Following your gaze, he sees the picture in question—well, he can’t see it clearly, his glasses being lost in the shuffle to get here. But, he knows what picture you’re talking about. It’s a picture of him and his two daughters, Hailey and Kristina, at their soccer tournament when they were 9 and 7 respectively. Their team had won 2nd place, but the both of them didn’t care because their dad had shown up to watch them play. It’s one of his favorite pictures of the three of them.

“Yeah, those are my girls,” Steve says with pride.

“They’re cute.” You look back at him with a smile, “They definitely get their looks from you.”

Steve feels the heat on his cheeks and ducks his head. “Thank you. Do, uh, do you have any kids?”

“Nope,” you say with a shake of your head. “Well, not yet at least.”

“Again, I am so, so sorry—” You bark out a laugh at his embarrassment and Steve tries to ignore the way you squeeze him.

“I’m just teasing, Steve.”

“Oh-okay,” he settles, daring to squeeze you a little tighter to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you say excitedly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“Well, okay actually it’s, like, a series of questions. But, I guess the first one is…why me?”

“Why you? Like, why did I sleep with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Um, partly because you’re, like, really, really hot.”

Steve laughs at that, “Should’ve seen me when I was your age.”

“I’m sure you were super hot then, too. But you look like one of those guys who gets better with age.”

“Thanks…”

“Anyway, I also slept with you because you’re always really nice when you and your friend come in. I thought maybe you were, but honestly I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or not. I also wasn’t sure if you and her were dating and I didn’t want to embarrass myself so I never said anything. But when you pheromone bombed me earlier…I had to take my break because I thought I was going to go into heat.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about that, too,” Steve internally scolds himself for forgetting about that. “Forty two years old and I can’t even contain myself. Acting like I’m a newly presenting alpha again.”

“It’s okay…honestly it was kinda hot. That’s why when I saw you leaving, I thought ‘Fuck it, might as well shoot my shot.’ Glad I did.”

Steve is trying his damnedest to stay collected, he really is. But the more you talk about wanting to pursue him, the more he feels like he needs to get away from you before he falls for you. He knows it’s just the pheromones and the fact that he hasn’t felt wanted since Becca left him, but damn does it feel good to have someone want him.

He feels you snuggle back against him. You look over your shoulder at him with a sly expression. 

“Ready for round two already?” You say with a teasing lit. His eyes go wide.

“What?” He asks with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m just kidding,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.  “Just felt like you got harder when I was talking about how I wanted you.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “I mean, if I can get this knot to go down enough…” It’s been a long while since Steve’s been able to go for a second round. But, he’s pretty sure he’d do anything you asked him right now.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind this for a little bit longer.”

The two of you ended up fucking for a good majority of the afternoon. At some point Steve fell asleep inside you, leaving you to scroll through his barely touched instagram until his knot went down again. He warned you that pictures of his wife were still on there since he didn’t know how to delete them. But when you told him you didn’t care about his past he ended up fucking you again, which is how you ended up in the position you’re in now.

When Steve rouses from his nap, he’s sad to find you not in bed with him. It felt good having someone to share his bed with again. A king size mattress is too big for only one person to occupy Steve has thought many nights now.

Steve puts on a pair of gray sweats and a tee shirt and searches the house for you. He gets a little nervous when he doesn’t find you anywhere. With a slight panic, he runs back to his room and checks his clothes from earlier. When everything was still in his pockets he grabbed his phone to see if you’d texted him that you were leaving. That was until he remembered that he never asked for your number…

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he grabs his phone and taps the screen. The picture of Hailey and Kristina opening gifts at Robin’s house over Christmas break comes up, making him smile. But when he looks at the bottom of the screen, he sees the little notification bubble and scrolls up. 

His eyes widen when he sees your name attached to a text message. He opens the message quickly, squinting his eyes to see the screen without his glasses on. 

wanted a smoke so I’m sitting in your car hope that’s okay ♥️

Steve is up instantly, grabbing his coat and house slippers before pushing out the front door. He saw you in his passenger seat, bundled up in your coat with a cigarette still lit between your fingers. You were on the phone with someone, distracted as you looked out the front window. He could hear you speaking with someone through the cracked window.

“Yeah, the older guy. The divorced one…Girl, oh my goooooood…I will when I see you later. He’s so hot though…I don’t know. I kinda hope so. Like I’m sure my parents would be so pissed if I started dating a guy in his 40s…I don’t know. But girl we went at it for hooouuuursss, so I hope so.”

Steve was sure his face was the same shade of red as a tomato. He could hardly believe a girl was sitting in his car talking about how much she liked him to presumably one of her friends. And you were talking about dating?

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

The words come out on their own. Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You mutter a quick good bye to your friend and open the car door.

“S-sorry, I was talking to my friend. What did you say?”

Steve debated on back tracking. There’s no way you could be serious about liking him, so why embarrass himself, or even scare you off by taking things further. You were right, you were old enough that your parents wouldn’t approve even if you both wanted it. As a father of two girls, he can’t help but think about how he would feel if one of them brought home someone at least 15 years older than them…

“Steve?” The way you looked at him had him folding in an instant.

“I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

A smile played at the ends of your mouth. “Really?” You ask coyly. “This isn’t just some little fantasy thing for you? Older man hooking up with a younger girl to make himself feel better?” Steve shook his head.

“God, no. Those aren’t my intentions at all.” Steve’s hand reaches out for yours, which you gladly take, swinging them between the two of you. Steve clears his throat before looking you in the eye as he speaks.

“I’m not the type of guy that does…” He gestures vaguely towards his house. “Does the hook up thing. At least I haven’t been in a good while.”

“I knew you were a player when you were younger,” you say with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

“I saw a picture that your friend Robin tagged you in on her instagram of the two of you back in the day and…” You gave him a look that made him duck his head. 

“I guess you could say that I was a bit more debaucherous back in my early twenties. But, I think the longevity of my marriage should stand as testament that I am capable of being a loyal, faithful partner to the right person.”

“And you want to see if I could be a candidate for that “right person” position?”

“Mmm, that sounds like you’d need to convince me.” He pulls you into him, looking down at you as you’re pressed against him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve already got me hooked on you. Just need to prove to you that this old man is worth keeping around.”

The way your smile crinkles your eyes as you look up at him has Steve’s heart fluttering. And when you reach up to kiss him, that fluttering swells into a blooming warmth that runs through his veins the second your lips touch.

“Well, when and where does this “old man,” you echo his words with finger quotes, “want to have this date, hmm?”

The two of you iron out the details over a smoke in Steve’s warm car, and continue to talk well past the setting of the sun. Eventually, Steve takes you back to your car, where the two of you make out parked next to it until you’re pretty sure you hear your closing coworkers coming out the back door from the end of shift.

Steve makes you promise to text him when you get home to make sure you got there safe. You throw a casual “sure thing, dad” at him, and as he watched you get in your car he has to question himself as to why he liked you calling him that…

thank you for reading.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What���s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 1)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. MDNI

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@dollywons credits for the divider, thank you :))

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt2 pt3 pt4

“Fuck off” you muttered to your Alex. Today was already as hard as it was. You didn't need him giving you unnecessary advice on how to grief a patient.

Who does he think he is?? You thought to yourself. Listening to a bratty egotistical younger resident telling you what to do when your patient dies during surgery? No. At least you will not tolerate his behavior.

Growing up with a careless single mother in poverty may have made you like this. Always numb and cold. That's just what people think of you.

You weren't always this unattending. In the first year of medical school, you were the nicest and the most helpful student there is. Things changed as your career proceeded within the years. You saw how ugly people can be. They took you as weak and something they can use to get what they want.

Not again. Never again

The loud alarm went off in the hospital wing. You quickly got up as your pager rang. In-room 303, there was a little girl. 10 years old, had a diagnosis of cardiomyopathy. When you were working the night shift and doing regular rounding checkups, she talked about her birthday plan to you.

“I want Princess Jasmine to attend my birthday party. Her hair is so long and shiny and pretty and, and she's pretty. She's also so smart. Mommy promised me she would come” the girl suddenly stopped. After a few seconds she opened her mouth again.

“She said she… she will come if I live… will I live? Doctor?”

You thought about the past as the attending announced her time of death. 23:44. 12th of May, 2015.

Two patients. Two patients. In one day.

Hiding from people, you hugged your knees in the corner of an empty hallway as you sobbed. God. People thought you were heartless. What other choice do you have when you have no choice but to leave your toxic mother who had no other motivation in life other than drinking, to build a better future for yourself. What other choice do you have when you were the best student in the school but had no money for college? Would you rather stay with your mom to take care of her all your life, doing everything that drives you insane or follow your dreams?

Unfortunately for you, your dream was not something you imagined. Burden, depression, exhaustion were the main 3 words you could use for this job.

Not to mention the creepy, flirty attendings. Always being underestimated by the men in the field.

After the long hard 24 hours and arguing with your mentor about your recent research about brain cancer, you took a box with your belongings.

Bitch

The old fat man fired you for standing up for yourself. Why would you allow anyone to take ideas from your paper? Especially if they were your teacher.

Fine. I'll find a better job in a better hospital.

After putting on your comfortable black coat and causing your boss to fire you for no actual good reason, you walked to your car with the box in your hand.

“Fuck” you yelled as you struggled to open the car door with the damn box in hand. In the reflection of the car window at midnight you saw a face behind you. Just as you were going to turn away, something was put around your nose and mouth and everything went black.

Leon grinned to himself as he carefully put the young woman in his jeep. Tonight was the new moon. There was almost no light in the parking lot and he was sure the cameras couldn't catch the glimpse of his face.

He observed her for a few weeks. First he got a little headache and decided to go to the hospital, only to find a little angel for himself.

Leon noticed she was quite unique compared to the women he met before. Even though he wouldn't say she's rude, she wasn't exactly nice either. He was sure he could fix her up nicely to become a sweet little wife for him.

His baby just needed some guidance in life. What would he be if he let go of this girl to become a rude old bitch. Instead she could help the community by giving Leon a family he wanted for the last few months too much.

Staring at his sweet pumpkin through the rear view window, he was planning what to do next. For the last week he had already planned what to do. But his bunny was in a worse condition than he thought. Overworked herself, dressed in sad gloomy clothes. He would strip her out of these and put her in comfortable , cotton pajamas.

And feed her. He knows what she eats in a day. Sad cold dark coffee with a tuna sandwich for breakfast. No lunch. Leftover pizza or burger for dinner. Leon will make sure she eats plenty of vegetables and homemade food that will nurture her.

During the night he changed her clothes to what he had bought for her.

“Just perfect” he muttered as the t-shirt he got fit her perfectly. Hugging her waist, making her breast more prominent. He held himself back from touching her cunt as he pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

He sniffed her and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. “I’ll show you how much I love you when you wake up honey. Not yet… Leon… gotta wait” he muttered to himself.

He put a little underwear on her and undressed himself. Crawling next to the love of his life, Leon put an alarm at 4am on his phone.

“The drug should be out by then,” Leon thought as he cuddled her.

After a few hours Leon was woken by clicking on the doorknob. His angel had woken up and was trying to open the door. Leon sneakily grabbed his phone and looked at the time. 3am.

The blonde signed and got up, causing his angel to scream and throw a vase on the shelf nearby at him.

“Get away from me, you freak!” you yelled, almost on the verge of crying making Leon's heart beat faster. He hated seeing you in pain.

“It's okay. It's okay, baby. Everything will be alright.” Leon cooed, getting up from the bed to her.

“Step away!” You screamed, throwing the left souvenirs on the shelf to him.

Leon walked in a few short big steps, in hurry and stopping you before you hurt yourself.

“It's okay my baby. Daddys here to take care of you. It's okay. Calm down. Everything will be okay.. no more work, no more ignoring yourself. It's okay..” Leon muttered trying to calm you down. He gripped your arms tightly above your head while kissing your head.

You squirm while sobbing, trying to kick him.

“What did I do to you?? Let me go.” You demanded squirming more, causing Leon to tighten his grip. Leon kept muttering to you his reassuring words while kissing your face all over when you managed to kick him in the crotch.

He let go of you and inhaled deeply, trying not to lash out on his dove on their 1st day as a couple.

“Y/n…. Honey… calm down…” he breathed out.

After a while of trying, Leon gave up. The constant cursing and screaming were giving him an awful headache, same as the ones he gets after missions.

“SHUT UP BITCH” he yelled at you, shaking your arms. Your eyes widened as you shut down, the room was quite apart from your sniffling and leons hard breathing.

“Please… just… let me go…” you sniffed out. You haven't felt this humiliated and weak since you were a little girl. Since your mother used to beat you after not cooking for her. Since you went against her words. Your childhood wasn't something you liked talking about, nor getting pity from strangers. You wanted nothing to do with the alcoholic bitch. When you were near her, you were a prisoner.

Ironic, now I'm a real prisoner

Leon breathed out and stared intensely. Suddenly he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him before jumping on the bed. You protested, tried to bite his arm, kick him, scream, call for help, every way. Leon almost tore the piece of garments he put on her before.

“What are you doing?? Stop. No. Stop-” you protested, only for him to shut you up with a kiss.

After the first night, Leon felt guilty. Not because he made love to his lover when she was throwing a tantrum. But because of the way he lashed out on her. For the last few days she was avoiding him, sitting in corners, not eating or making any noise. After a while being a gentleman as he is, Leon decided to surprise his bunny.

“Honey. I'm home” Leon smiled, locking the doors securely. He hid a small box behind his back.

You crawled away from him, to the edge of the bed. Leon reached out his hand to pull your hair back.

“My beautiful baby. Did you miss me?” He grinned stupidly. You wanted to cry. But you didn't want to show him your weakness, especially after that night. Leon frowned as you pulled your head back.

“Look what daddy got you sweet girl. I know you overworked yourself so daddy got you vitamins.” He grinned as he showed the box.

You frowned seeing it. The multi vitamins that had fruit flavors.

“Don't you like it? Daddy got you this one specifically because the pharmacist told me a lot of trying women get it” Leon smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

You snatched the vitamin to see what it has.

Vitamin D, B6, B12, Vitamin C, Vitamin A, B9

What the actual fuck

“Are you insane??” You yelled. Leon's eyebrows raised. You finally said a word to him after the event, but yelling at him? He can't be having his wife yelling at the breadwinner.

“Dove. Watch your mouth” Leon said calmly, but his grip tightened.

“All I ever wanted for you is happiness honey. We will have many children. Look around the bedroom honey. The outside. Can't you see we are more than available to raise children? You're young and beautiful. We can have children. For now, I'm worried you're short on essential vitamins. And I heard it could affect fertility” Soon his eyes narrowed as he understood it was necessary to take another way.

“I know what I did was… wrong… Maybe you would have wanted me to approach it in a traditional way. But I just couldn't wait for you. Plus… you already know you would have rejected my offer. You were too deep in hurting yourself. I'm helping you. I'm helping us. We're building a future. Together”

“You should go to therapy”

Leon narrowed his eyes again. “Sleep well angel. You're not clearly thinking well” he said, kissing the forehead before lying beside you.

During the night you tossed around. What if you could overdose on vitamins and just end this suffering? There was no one to look out for you. You got fired, the only family you have is an alcoholic that you cut contact with, and no real friends. You were alone in this.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Heavy

Summary: Reader's having a depressive episode and needs some comfort from her mate

Content Warnings: Depression

Author's Note: I should be finishing my Vamp!Rhys fic but I got sad and wrote this instead

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

Velaris is beautiful at night, from the glittering stars overhead, to the soft gurgle of the Sidra rushing over time worn stones beneath the city’s many intricate bridges. The music makes the whole city feel full of light and laughter, couples often dancing and humming in the streets. It’s one of your favorite places to be.

Usually.

Tonight it’s just… there. Though you stand in the heart of it, everything moves around you, never quite touching you. It’s as if you’re suddenly a stranger in the place you love the most, the emotional distance between you palpable.

You jam your hands in your pockets and keep walking, though you’re not really sure where you’re going, your body moving on autopilot. It’s been like that for a couple weeks now, if you’re honest, you’ll be half way through the day sometimes before you realize you’re not sure how or when you even got out of bed, or gotten dressed. Did you even eat? Kiss your mate good morning? Rhys has been working long hours in Illyria lately, most nights you’re already asleep before he’s even tumbling into bed, but, now that you’re thinking about it, that could also be because you’ve been going to sleep earlier too.

You frown at your boots as you walk, trying to remember when this happened. It’s not new, you’ve had bouts of this since you were a teenager, but they’ve been better thanks to regular sessions with Madja and some other healers. Art therapy in the Rainbow has helped too. Usually you can tell when you’re starting to slip into the darker places in your head, but it crept up on you this time.

By the time your mindless wanderings bring you back to the Townhouse, the light from your upstairs bedroom is already on, meaning Rhys somehow finished his business and beat you home. You’d only planned to grab some takeout so you wouldn’t have to cook, and yet, here you stand, hands as empty as your stomach.

The door opens before you can even reach for your key, soft light spilling out into the entryway. “There you are!” Rhys says by way of greeting, as if he’d been waiting by the door for you. Your mate leans in to place a quick peck on your lips as he guides you inside.

“Did you go to Rita’s with Mor?”

He should be able to tell you hadn’t, since you’re wearing the same sweatpants you had been for a week, but then again, he also hasn’t been home enough to know you haven’t changed out of them. 

“No I…” you hate talking about this stuff, hate feeling like you’re burdening anybody with the weight you feel pressing down on your chest. “Uh, went to get dinner.”

Rhys stares down at your empty hands, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Did you forget to bring it back?”

You run a hand over your eyes. Cauldron they’re so heavy! Why is everything always so heavy? Your whole body feels like it’s made of bricks, just the effort to kick off your boots feels like it takes every single drop of energy you have left. “Sorry.” Even speaking feels like too much.

Rhys frowns, “Darling, are you ok?”

“Just tired,” you say, avoiding his eyes now. 

He steps forward, placing a knuckle under your chin and tilting your face towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired,” you repeat, but your eyes are watering now. 

He stills, violet eyes roaming over you, assessing for the first time tonight how you look, the dark circles under your eyes. He knows you haven’t had trouble sleeping, he’s barely been able to wake you when he comes home at night. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears falling in earnest now.

Rhys’s features soften as he lifts you into his arms, the bond flooding with warmth and understanding as he says, “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you upstairs. “I thought I was doing better… but everything just feels heavy again.”

He kisses your forehead gently as he climbs into bed and settles you down against his chest. Twisting, his wings unfurl so he can curl one around you, cocooning you in the warmth of his body. “What can I do to help?”

You wrap an arm around his waist as you settle your face against his chest, his heartbeat steady and even beneath you. Madja had said once that this was helpful if you got overly anxious, the steadiness of his breathing helping yours level out, and it helps now too, gives you something to focus on. It’s grounding and you let your breathing sync up, your chest rising and falling against his own. Madja hadn’t been able to stress enough how important it was to find something to ground you in the present when you got like this, lest your thoughts start to spiral deeper and deeper into the dark.

“Just need you to hold me for a little while,” you say.

Rhys pulls your favorite blanket up over the two of you before wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you,” and the bond floods with more warmth than you think you deserve, but it doesn’t let up when those thoughts sneak in. “I’ll do anything you need me to.”

You place a gentle kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, fingers tracing shapes in your back. “No one has all good days.”

“But nothing even happened,” you protest. “I just woke up one morning and it was just so heavy to be awake.”

He kisses your temple. “We can see Madja in the morning, if you need, but you can’t beat yourself up. You have no control over it.”

You press your temple into his chest and breath in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. “I hate it.”

He places another kiss to the top of your head. You know he hates it too, hates that it’s a battle he can’t fight for you, no matter how much he wants to. “It will pass.”

Rhys is warm, his presence soothing, the darkness that seeps from his skin on the days he hasn’t had the time to expel enough of it, drifting over your body in soothing motions. This is safe and quite and peaceful. Your body starts to settle more and more as time goes on.

“Do you really believe that?” You whisper. “That it’ll pass?”

“Yes,” he says. “It has before, and it will again.” Knowing he’s had the experience himself, you’re inclined to believe he’s right.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” you admit. 

Rhys holds you a little tighter, “Till all the stars fall from the sky, my love.” He holds you all night, whispering all the things he loves about you as you start to fall asleep.

You let yourself fall into it, hoping tomorrow will be better.

[ovaryacted]

This is my analysis post in response to this wonderful ask I got from one of my anons. Thank you so much for the brain juice, my neurons thank you. So: Is Leon S. Kennedy a sex-god or is he just a regular guy? Let's talk about it.

1.1k Words | cw: suggestive sexual content

To me it’s not a controversial take to think of Leon as someone who isn’t a sex god, that is actually how I perceive Leon in my mind when it comes to sex as a whole. Sure, with the pieces I’ve already put out of him, I characterize him as someone who has chemistry with his partner and he’s already learned how to be with them in all aspects. But realistically with his current circumstances, it would probably be more close to what was initially described. He's touched deprived, pathetic, and would probably fall apart the moment someone touches him like he's a porcelain doll.

Leon isn’t a sex god at all. He’s just a guy, and by canon, he’s a loser who doesn’t get laid anyway. I also wouldn’t expect him to have many opportunities to be with other people intimately. In RE2R at least, he gives off the impression that he hasn’t done much, maybe not even kissed outside of Ada when they’re on the shuttle together. And of course, the opportunity for more gets ripped away from him when Raccoon City happens and he gets forced into military service.

If he had any chance to be with someone prior, it’s a definite no now. He just doesn’t have time when he’s constantly fighting with PTSD, depression, and immense trauma that he doesn’t even register most of the time. He’s too busy surviving, too busy being brought on these missions where he thinks it’ll be the last time he’ll be alive, and then somehow he manages to come back home just to repeat the process. Rinse and repeat, live to kill, and survive to do it again and again. That’s his routine, that was his new normal for years.

So sex or any intimate relationship is out of the question. He just stops caring, and the stress that he’s constantly dealing with in his body makes his libido plummet. Leon doesn’t go searching for it, sometimes he thinks his body doesn’t even work anymore or that his dick is about to fall off. Though in the back of his mind, there are faint little moments where he craves intimacy, not so much sex but the touch of another person who isn’t an enemy is what he wants.

Leon has had a limited handful of sexual encounters, but it’s never coming from a place of desire. He does things based on instinct, and it’s simply for stress relief. Usually, it’s a quickie, he doesn’t allow himself to feel relief beyond what’s available to him. He blocks out everything from his mind, and his body is on autopilot. The worst part about it is when it happens there’s no softness to it, it’s not necessarily rough to the point of pain, but it’s not intimate in the way he wishes it was.

That way of behaving goes on for a while until he’s older, probably when he’s hitting his 30s and it’s virtually second nature to him. He gets lucky and meets someone he likes being with, which changes the way he thinks about relationships. He now has the opportunity to experience what it’s like to be with someone outside of moral obligation. Of course, it happens over time, and it’s not instantaneous, it takes a while for him to be fully comfortable with exploring vulnerability. But the more he gets to know his partner and spends time with them, the more he realizes it isn’t so bad to want to be with somebody.

The way he acts around them is vastly different from how he’s operated in the past with previous temporary partners. He quickly realizes that he doesn’t want to do things fast or rushed and that he wants to take his time. He’s not inclined to jump headfirst into the whole sex part, instead, he focuses more on the other stuff, on the gentle touches and the yearning. 

It starts with delicate kisses and slowly grows into more purposeful touching. He gets experimental, squeezes on his partner’s body a bit more, and does something that makes them gasp or moan, or they’ll touch him in a way that makes a groan rumble out of his chest. Something in his brain finally clicks and it’s like all of the blood in his body rushes down south, and for the first time, he feels aroused. It’s like his body begins to pulse, he’s getting warm, and Leon finds himself wanting more, wanting to touch and be touched.

The time he gets to have sex, and genuinely desires it, it feels different. His body is hotter, he feels more sensitive to things as his senses go into overdrive and his partner is all he can focus on. In a way, he thinks less about the expectations to perform and more about feelings. It wouldn’t happen naturally either, he’d have to be coaxed into it, reminded that it’s okay to want to experience intimacy, to crave it.

Once he feels like he’s in a safe space with another person, he’ll know it’s okay to be selfish for once, but I don’t think he’s an inherently selfish partner or person, quite the opposite. Leon is a people pleaser, so he’ll want to learn how to please his partner. He’s naturally perceptive, he pays attention to things that make them tick, that make them feel good. Like a chameleon, he adapts the same way how he does on his missions, trying to make sense of the situations before him so he can get the best result.

It’s a very emotionally charged experience for Leon, where he feels better than good, stuck in a daze the moment he decides to indulge himself in whatever is currently ahead of him. It’s so intense for him that he’ll mumble out praises, whether it be to his partner or himself, certain things will slip out.

If he’s really in the mood, he would accidentally say the L word (love) if it’s that good, but that would probably happen when he feels vulnerable and safe, so he is more on the receiving side and more submissive. I think it would be a combination of his emotions and just feeling safe in another human’s touch, one that doesn’t feel like an obligation. Either way, he’s a softie, and someone who wants intimacy so his sexual habits would reflect that with age, and when he gets a partner that’s willing to be soft and patient with him it’ll work in his favor.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[archangeldyke-all]

Hey ! It's my first request ever, so I'm not sure how it work. If you're not confortable with it, feel free to don't respond. I'm kinda obsess with an AMAB Sevika, can you write reader discovering a surprise pregnancy with a sex friend/flirt/crush Sevika ?

I like the way you make her express her feelings, it's pretty accurate with Arcane. Feel free for them to keep the baby or not. Thank you so much and thank you for your work. ^^

sure!!! i got another very similar request too so i'll combine them :)

Amab sevika really be curing my depression

Maybe reader and vika are married and trying for a baby? 🥺🥺 amab sevika is my beloved and I'd die for her

men and minors dni

you guys have been trying to get pregnant for about six months now.

a lot of it's been fun. flipping through baby books together in bed, sending each other videos of cute babies on social media, and the actual baby making process is a blast.

but some of it's hard.

sevika's stopped taking her estrogen to get her sperm count back up. as a result, she's been horribly dysphoric.

you've caught her crying several times, standing in front of the mirror with a pair of tweezers in her hands, her chest irritated from the plucking and picking she'd done. she's become obsessive in shaving her face, doing it two or three times a day. her metabolism's gotten faster without the estrogen, and the 20 or so pounds of extra padding she'd put on her thighs and hips since she started e years ago is starting to fade away.

you try your best to make her feel better, insist that you guys could always try ivf instead, but she's determined to do it 'the old fashioned way.' so, you just hold her when her dysphoria takes hold, pressing kisses to her hair, reminding her you'd love her with a full beard just as much as you love her now.

it's been hard on you too. the more time that goes by without a successful pregnancy, the more you feel like your body's betraying you.

how many times did you and sevika have a pregnancy scare at the beginning of your relationship, before you were ready for kids? hundreds. but now that you're actively trying, your period is as regular as it can possibly be.

you've decided that if you go another month without any success, you're going to throw in the towel and ask your obgyn about ivf. you can't take much more disappointment, and you don't like seeing sevika so depressed all the time.

but then, something happens.

it starts with your tits getting sore.

for a week straight, they're tender to the touch, sore by the end of the night when you take your bra off. you know it's one of the earliest signs of pregnancy, but you don't say anything, not wanting to get your hopes up.

but then you start getting sick in the mornings. you can't hide this from sev, and she's squirming with excitement beside you as she rubs your back while you spew your guts into the toilet below.

"this is amazing." she says, giddy. you groan.

"real amazing sev, i'm feeling great." you say sarcastically. she giggles and presses a kiss to your head.

"i'm sorry, honey." she whispers. you giggle and reach out to hold her hand as another bout of nausea overtakes you.

your period is a day late.

and then two.

you know this. you know sevika knows this. but neither of you say anything, too scared to jinx it.

but when two days becomes three, and then three becomes a full week, you start getting excited.

you don't tell sevika you buy a pregnancy test-- not wanting to disappoint her if it's negative. but you do buy one, and you take it an hour before sevika's meant to get home.

it's positive. you nearly pass out from excitement.

sevika comes home to dinner on the table and flowers in the kitchen.

you sit on her lap the second she sits down, swinging your arms around her shoulders.

she's smiling like she already knows, but she's biting her lip-- worried that she's wrong.

"i got two surprises for you." you say.

"two?!" she asks, her hands clawing into your hips. you smile.

"two." you say, nodding.

you reveal the syringe full of her estrogen to her, raising your eyebrows at her. she blinks.

"what's that?" she asks. you laugh.

"'s only been a few months sev, y' already forgot what your e looks like?" you tease her. she blinks and gulps as you wipe a cool alcohol wipe over her bicep, pinching the skin and bringing the needle up to her arm. you smile at her.

"but what about--"

"don't ruin the second surprise." you scold her as you inject the needle into her muscle, pushing her hormones in and watching as her eyes go wide and sparkly.

she doesn't even notice the sting of the needle-- she's usually such a wimp about it, but tonight, she's got all her attention focused on you.

"does that mean-- are you--"

"pregnant?" you ask as you gently place a bandaid over the tiny puncture wound. sevika's breath catches in her throat and her eyes get watery. you place a kiss on top of the bandage, keeping your eyes locked on hers. sevika's breathing is shaky, tears already streaming down her cheeks. you lean up to kiss them up. "you're gonna be a momma, sev." you whisper against her cheek.

at the words, sevika bolts out of her chair, holding you in her arms and running you to the bedroom. you laugh the whole way.

sevika slams you (gently) down onto the bed before jumping on top of you. one of her hands goes to hold your stomach, the other comes up to cup your cheek.

"are you serious?!" she whispers. you smile and nod, your own tears welling in your eyes.

"took three tests. all positive." you say. sevika whimpers, then swoops down to kiss you.

she fucks you like she's trying to get you pregnant again.

and then, when you're done and she's holding you in your arms, her hand still on your stomach, the both of you catching your breaths, the first thing she says is, "what do you think about athena as a girls name?"

"goddess of war!?" you ask, laughing. "absolutely not. i'm not dealing with another little fighter in the house." you say. sevika giggles.

"but it's badass! nobody'd fuck with her." she says, pouting at you. you laugh. sevika gasps. "she just kicked!" she says, pointing at your belly. you laugh even harder. "she loves it! we have to name her athena now!" she says, teasing.

you groan and push her face away as she chuckles. "you're fuckin' ridiculous." you say between your giggles. sevika grins.

"i love you so much." she whispers, tears forming in her eyes again. your laughter ceases, a sweet watery smile taking its place.

"i love you too." you whisper.

sevika grins and swoops down to kiss your stomach.

"love you too, little fucker." she whispers to your belly.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

[heliads]

Lisa my love! I hope you don’t mind me sending another request (for none other than Jack Wilder again of course) — but how about a Jack x reader meet-cute situation, maybe she’s a barista at the coffee shop he likes to visit, and he definitely thinks she’s more than cute but reader is a little oblivious to that fact. But she doesn’t recognise him at first, (i can imagine a co-worker going “GIRL that was Jack Wilder!” and she’s like “who now?”). Jack ends up becoming a regular and the two get to know each other outside of the coffee shop setting (I’m also imagining he’d try to teach her card tricks and it’d just be so !!!!!! absolute fluff). Sorry, this request doesn’t have a SINGLE coherent thought in it, it’s literally so silly but I love this man bfhvdjhfvdn

anything for the boy

'wake me up' - jack wilder

masterlist

Nothing has ever made you want to drink coffee less than working in a coffee shop. Whether or not you’ll actually stop is purely up to your own moral strength, of course, but you’re reminded daily of why you would make such a choice whenever you clock in to your latest shift at your local coffee shop. The sight of so many exhausted people who seem to prefer snapping at you to actually taking accountability in their own lives is depressing, to say the least. 

Still, you keep working there. You always do. It’s satisfying in itself, as far as jobs go, and your coworkers are funny enough that the time always passes faster than expected. It’s not bad. And sometimes, on rare days like today, you end up meeting someone with the power to change your life forever.

The funny thing is, you almost missed him. The shop was crazy busy when he came in. You would find out later that the people were only crowding into the shop and lining up down the block because of him, but you hadn’t known that at the time. You had just chalked it up to word of mouth, maybe enough people had finally appreciated the expert level of care you and your coworkers put into their lattes and decided to show up and see what’s what. 

You certainly hadn’t counted on the cute boy who came bounding through the door of your shop, sending the bell fixed to the top into a commotion matching the hubbub surrounding the tables inside. Your first thought was that he seemed energetic enough that ordering coffee was unnecessary. Your second thought, as he breezed up to you, ready to order, was that you certainly didn’t mind your job anymore if it brought you faces as pretty as his. 

For a complete stranger, he seemed very sure of himself. He had paused for a moment before speaking, as if waiting for you to burst into applause at the sight of him. When it became clear you weren’t going to fall into raptures, he just shrugged and rattled off his order. The words were perfectly cadenced, probably memorized. You wrote it down like normal. Routines can be tedious on both ends, even if two perfect strangers are meeting for the first time. Sometimes, you don’t know that the course of your life has been irrevocably affected until much later. You certainly didn’t know it then.

You had guessed that something was strange, though. You had asked what name he wanted with the order and the young man had blinked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t fathom the possibility that you wouldn’t know who he was. You’re familiar with the regulars of the coffee shop, so you knew he wasn’t one of them. Still, he seemed so stunned that you didn’t recognize him already. In a good way, though. With the way he smiled at you as he said, “Just Jack, thanks,” you got the feeling that he thought quite a lot about you was good.

Jack’s order wasn’t too complicated, so you were able to finish it quickly, which he seemed to appreciate. Even after he moved out of line to wait for his coffee, Jack had still hung around the counter, eyes nervously darting around the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him. From the few glances you were able to sneak as you poured and mixed ingredients, you almost thought he was right to worry. All these tables of girls kept whispering and giggling to each other, staring back at him with this outright, unusual intensity.

You had no idea why he was seemingly being stalked by so many people, but he was cute, so maybe that would do it. There’s a college campus across town, maybe he was on a varsity athletics team or something. You called his name and several people perked up. No one looked happier than Jack, though, and he eagerly slid over to you so he could pick up his drink.

You raised an eyebrow at his excitement, unable to hide a small smile. “Really looking forward to that coffee, huh?”

Jack had the presence of mind to blush a little. “I just want to hit the road as soon as I can.”

You took an obvious look past him. “I think I can understand that. What did you do, announce that you’d be giving away free kittens or something?”

Jack chuckled, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. “Not quite. Do you– do you not know who I am?” He gave this pained half-laugh as he said it, like he could tell that saying something like that didn’t make him come off as the nicest.

He was cute enough that it worked, though. Cute and charming. He could get away with anything. Later, you’d learn that he usually did.

“No,” you said, and his entire face had lit up. Strange. “I’m not a mind reader,” you reminded him, “I won’t know your name unless you tell it to me.”

“Well,” he had said slowly, “I won’t mind saying it again. Maybe tomorrow morning?”

You had laughed. “I’ll see you then.”

Jack had all but beamed at you, turning around to smile at you one last time right before exiting the shop. You’d watched him go with a soft smile, shaking your head to yourself as you headed back to get the next customer’s order.

When you started mixing up the next drink, though, one of your coworkers turned to you, practically shrieking in your ear with the force of her excitement. “Am I dreaming, or was that Jack Wilder?”

You glanced at her, confused, as you reached for the oat milk. “Who?”

Your coworker’s eyes widened in horrified shock. “You must be joking. Jack Wilder? Of the Horsemen?”

You had frowned at her. “Like the four that bring about the apocalypse? He seemed nice enough to me, I doubt he’s going to bring pestilence or death upon our coffee shop.”

Your coworker had shaken her head, her eyes flickering briefly shut as if praying for strength. “No, Y/N, the Horsemen are a world famous group of magicians. They’re like, crazy good. During a show, they once robbed a bank on the opposite side of the globe.”

“So they’re criminals,” you muttered, eyebrows raised, “They sound like lovely people, then. Should I check the credit card he paid with? Maybe it was a playing card instead and I didn’t notice.”

She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t do that, obviously. They’re like magical Robin Hoods, they only steal from banks and bad rich people and stuff like that. Jack Wilder is a celebrity, if that’s what it takes to get through to you. He’s like, the hottest one of all of them.”

“That I can agree with,” you had grinned to yourself. He was really good looking, and sweet at the same time. 

You found yourself sincerely hoping that he would come back the next morning, although the odds of that had to be low. If Jack really was a world-class celebrity, he’d probably jet across to a new country by the end of the day. He probably wouldn’t stay in one place that long, especially given the questionable legality of his day job. Coming back to the same small coffee shop was practically out of the question.

And yet, when you open up the next morning, you find yourself idly glancing outside the front window every few minutes, constantly checking to see if there’s a cute magician slipping inside your shop. Each peek down the street is rewarded with the sight of faces that aren’t his, though that doesn’t stop you from looking again.

Eventually, you decide that he’s not coming after all and there’s no point in continually craning your neck to see past the people huddled outside the main window, trying to talk themselves out of purchasing a pastry. It is only now, when you let down your guard, that you see someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye and announce, as if this were some great, life-changing thing:  “I’m back.”

For anyone else, this would be obnoxious. However, the cute boy beaming at you did make you a promise, so it is quite important that he would be here to honor his word. You end up smiling back at him in silence for a beat too long. It takes your coworker pointedly looking at the line growing behind Jack for you to remember yourself.

“Right, right. Coffee. What can I get you this morning?”

He looks bashfully behind him, as if only realizing that it’s not just the two of you in here, too. “Um, maybe a double shot vanilla latte? Oh, and can you draw something on the top?”

You hum as you write down the order. “Any ideas, or is the art my choice?”

Jack winks at you. “I’d love your number, but that might be too long. How about a heart, since you’ve already got mine?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but you do your best to keep your cool. “That’s sweet. Do you flirt with all your baristas like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he promises. Maybe Jack’s magic isn’t just in card tricks, but in his smooth moves as well. 

As he turns around to find someplace out of the way to wait for his drink, your coworker openly stares at you, jaw dropped. “What was that?” She asks under her breath, grinning.

You just shrug, although you can’t seem to stop your lips from curling up into a poorly hidden smile. “No idea.”

Jack thanks you for his drink when it’s ready. You weren’t brave enough to give him your number, assuming he was just joking around. He’s a celebrity, you remind yourself. He could probably conjure up Margot Robbie’s number if he really wanted it. He’s not going to go for you if he could have anyone on the planet.

However, when you slide over his coffee and he immediately checks the design in the foam, pretending to pout when he sees no identifying string of digits, you start to wonder if he wasn’t kidding after all. It certainly seems that way when he shows up the next morning, and the next morning, and the next. Jack is turning into a regular, which you didn’t expect. You figured he would sweep from city to city like the rest of the Horsemen, but for some reason Jack seems inclined to stay.

He insists on getting your number about a week later, and says he won’t leave the shop until he gets it. He pretends to handcuff himself to the chair of his favorite spot, pulling the metal cuffs out of thin air and grinning at your surprised reaction. You make him stay there, locked in place, for a few more minutes just to mess with him, but in the end he walks out with your number, and when you leave that night, you find a card tucked into the pocket of your apron. 

It’s the queen of hearts, although the image is less entrancing than the phone number scrawled across the front. Just in case I lost yours by accident, says the note on the back. You press it to your heart, trying to stop yourself from audibly squealing. You had promised that you wouldn’t fall for him, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to keep your word. 

Especially not when you get a text some time later that night:  Get home safe? Then:  This is Jack. Although I hope you wouldn’t be confusing my number with other handsome men who also wanted to see you.

In the safety of your room, you’re free to lightly kick your heels back and forth like a kid with a schoolgirl crush. No other admirers. Just you.

Just the way I like it, is the answer, practically only a few heartbeats after your text. You might actually end up loving him if he’s not careful.

Jack comes in the next morning looking far too pleased with himself. In fact, he even goes so far as to ask when you get off work that day. He says he wants to see you without other customers getting in the way. You remind him that he, too, is a customer, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, asking if you want him to be something else. You don’t deign to respond to that, but you think your self-conscious smile does enough talking. He certainly laughs like it does.

Jack ends up taking you out to lunch. He makes you laugh the whole time, looking proud of himself every time he manages to elicit so much as a smile from you. He tells you stories about all the fantastic jobs he’s taken as a Horseman, even attempts to teach you a card trick or two. Several dropped decks later, both of you can freely admit that he’s got more of a knack for sleight of hand than you, but his hands have been over yours in the name of teaching his trade often enough that neither of you much mind.

It’s getting harder and harder to pretend that this is just a game to him. You do ask him once, as he’s dropping you off at your door, if he really does want this. You. Everything. Jack looks softly at you once, eyes containing all the secrets he couldn’t possibly put into words if he tried, and then he kisses you sweetly, slowly, and you know. Jack Wilder could have the whole world in his hands, but as it turns out, the only thing he wants from it is you. He’ll convince you of that as often as it takes. You can’t wait to watch him try.

requested by @hiya-itsamber, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: @mayfieldss

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[cinnamonest]

Okay so! I appreciate all of the messages everyone has sent me, thank you for that <3

I just got back and have been looking at my notifications, I also got a lot of questions, some of which were recurring so I figured I can make one post addressing them:

>What happened

I'm fine, my guess is my working circumstances + short daylight hours triggered some kind of prolonged depressive phase. I am type II bipolar (I can't recall if I've ever mentioned that here or not), so I have regular manic and depressive phases, they're just not usually so intense. I'm seeing my psychiatrist in a month so I'm going to ask her for her thoughts on avoiding it reoccuring.

> Have I played fontaine arc

Unfortunately I'm not caught up, due to the aforementioned issues I also neglected hobbies/media consumption and haven't logged in in a while. I intend to get to this soon and then I can answer stuff about it!

> Did I finish HxH/am I going to make HxH content

Yes I did! I had a few eps left when I went into the depressive phase, so I just picked it back up and finished it while I was traveling this weekend.

I really enjoyed it, so I'd love to write content for it (if that's what The People™ want as well? Let me know)

> Have I played HSR

Unfortunately I can't play Star Rail because it's not on PS4 :( I hope to save up for a PS5 so when I can get one, I'll play it.

> What am I working on

There's a few things I'm either actively on or would like to do!

1) proofreading Diluc escape fic I've had sitting around forever (will post today or tomorrow)

2) another Hybrid post I started a while back (almost done)

3) I haven't checked on it in a while, so I was pleasantly surprised to learn Malebolge (the Morax failed escape fic) is by far the most popular thing I've ever written, a lot of people wanted a sequel so I've started the bare bones drafting of a sequel for it.

4) I might go back and finish the scara failed escape fic I mentioned all the way back in late 2022, I eventually got over the heel-turn dislike I developed (read: I have erased everything post 2.1 from my brain), I was already like 10k words into it so it feels like a waste to not do so. But I'm not sure, I'll just have to see how it goes

5) Sifting through old WIPs/drafts to maybe finish some, maybe start making hxh content etc

[withered--s0uls]

Oh look it's another GD crossover

Ghost Drone AU - @electrozeistyking

You already saw all this art but shhh HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

This originally started out with me just wanting to draw Beanie interacting with the Intertwined Codes Kids but then I added some extra stuff lol.

If you're a reader of Intertwined Codes, this kinda sorta spoils future stuff bc only the twins have been mentioned in the Draft/Teaser fic but oh well. You have been warned.

IC!Uzi wouldn't like actually meet GD!N bc they'd kinda decide that "hey, let's not have the widowed man see an alternate version of his wife that actually got live." simply out of respect kinda?? So she would stick around at home with the kids whilst IC!N goes out to look for Beanies Dad after their kids drag her to them lmao.

So yeah she doesn't necessarily know the extent of the mans depression, the kids just mentioned there only being a dad so she just specifically asks about GD!N in this doodle

IC!N would quickly pick up on GD!N not being completely okay, even without being told any details. So he probably would end up sitting him down to talk on their way back to the IC!Doorman families place, wanting to help if he can in any way. (He runs a Daycare and tries to also be a support to any parent that needs it, so I feel he out of habit would lean into trying to do that with GD!N)

More/The kids under the Cut otherwise the post looks so long rip

I will go over each of these one by one (can'tdo close ups bc 10 image limit, I'll reblog this in a second with the close ups.)

Left are the Code-Related Nuzi kids, right are the adopted ones.

Code related kids

Zagi:

Not much to say, I'm still working out their personality - they're maybe 2-3 years older than Beanie, so they aren't too far apart in age. :)

Orita:

She's the sibling who started the trend of putting stickers on her siblings, so she DEFINITELY would do the same with Beanie.

She also probably originally was going to show her how to build a weapon, but her parents promptly stopped that lmao .

She would think it's really cool that Beanie has a custom core icon & in general is completely customized from the start! She herself was originally put into a regular worker body (just with the tail and headband being custom made by her mom), she had to build the DD forearms herself. She also has a sticker of the DD icon on her core, covering the WD icon :3

Rexim:

At this point he has enough siblings to be past the "ew a little kid" phase, so luckily Beanie gets spared that. His main camera is damaged, he only really uses his headband optics to look around, so he would kinda just look as if he's staring past her a lot. But bc of the obvious cracks in his visor I feel she would pick up on the fact he's not actually ignoring her.

Also he definitely would just play music to her, because IC!Uzi kinda always has music on whilst working in her workspace he kinda picked up some of her taste in music (Hence he's playing the same song that Uzi is shown to have been listening to in Ep7)

Raven:

First up THANK YOU Zeisty for helping me brainstorm silly stuff for them. They're a little ball of chaos now and I love them.

Anyways.

They would join Orita in bedazzling Beanie, and then they'd start talking about bird facts and also try to get Beanie to talk about her interests.

(Their height difference isnt 100% accurate bc halfway through drawing this I changed the IC timeline, making Raven about the same age as Zagi instead of them being a teen, so I kinda had to manually try and semi-fit their heights lol)

Adopted Kids

Ray:

Nothing to say. He's a baby. Tho whilst I was outlining this one I had to giggle because of how big he is in Beanies hands. She's so tiny 😭💕 /affectionate

Annika:

Oh boy. Ann.

Annika is the eldest kid & was adopted a while before Zagi was coded / whilst the parents were organizing the code copies for Zagi

She does NOT know how to talk to other kids. Never did. It made her stick out at the orphanage wing because she just avoided everyone. And it is very chaotic when Olivia and Ray first show up, because Ann's only idea of talking to other Drones is "well you got to be relatable" so she brings up the siblings dead parents bc like, her code parents are dead too. Both pairs dying to DDs. So yeah she probably would be the first, if not only one, in the whole household to just bring up GD!Uzi. She would do it like it's nothing either.

IC!Uzi would promptly get her to stop and sit her down having a conversation about "what did N and I say about trying to connect on that topic?"

Like IC!Uzi would actually feel really bad about it despite Beanie not knowing her mom. Bc she herself obviously didn't remember IC!Nori growing up but still didn't like the topic.

Olivia:

Olivia, as I said, was greeted with the topic of dead parents by Annika as well. So she probably would kinda interfere when IC!Uzi goes to sit Ann down to talk.

She would feel the need to apologize for the older girls behavior (which Ann would apologize for herself later too ofc) and would try to get Beanie to go play something together whilst IC!Uzi sorts that whole situation out.

She's also the closest to Beanies age probably, just was forced to mature bc of what happened to her parents, despite being taken in by Nuzi shortly after. She still obviously acts like a kid tho when comfortable, so I feel she would kinda ease up around Beanie and actually act more like a 4-5 year old around her.

Bonus? Bonus!

Needless to say Beanie would return home covered in stickers & hairpins (Orita & Raven have more than enough of those, they'd just let Beanie keep some)

RIP GD!N having to get her out of those stickers once they're back home

Also, for the "*humming*" variation of the picture I blame @k1k0oftheworld. Kiko was in vc with me when I was talking about how Beanie would be covered in stickers when she gets home, and saw the doodles as well.

He proposed the following scenario after seeing Rexim show Beanie IC!Uzis playlist:

Beanie humming dead batteries song & GD!N having a breakdown bc it reminds him of GD!Uzi

I do not take accountability for this, I was going to spare the poor widowed man.

(I scrapped the idea of him not knowing ab the IC!Doorman family and him getting a mini heart attack when Beanie goes "I met Mom today" in favor of him and IC!N meeting & talking - I WANTED TO SPARE HIS POOR HEART)

@k1k0oftheworld you owe him money for a therapy session now /silly

Anyways that's it, I'll put the close ups in the reblog like I said 👍

[babiebom]

When You Fall (i)

A/N: My first full fic on this blog! Thank you to everyone who voted! I will try my hardest to write and upload quickly, though I am not going to promise anything seeing as I have a job interview this Friday that I'm writing this(already passed by the time this is uploaded) and if I get it I'll be working more often. Though again thank you for voting and I hope you enjoy! Also a bit of a warning, some things from the game are obviously changed to make sense irl, like instead of there just being seasons there are actual months!(pictures not mine.)

Next Masterlist

TW: death, self harm in the form of overworking, cursing, depression, negative thoughts, funerals. Etc just sad

Genres: angst, potential happy ending, romance, some fluff. Multichapter Fic

WC: 4k

You hear your name being called, the voice is quiet under the ringing of your ears.

"Y/N!"

You attempt to force your eyes to adjust on the person, head and neck snapping quickly to face towards them. "Huh"?

"I asked if you were going to be alright getting to the graveyard alone…?"

You nod, swallowing even though your mouth and throat were dry. The funeral home was almost empty now; only you, your aunt and uncle, and a few friends that knew both of your parents and/or grandfather. Standing up straighter, you try to fix your face subtly, trying to act as if you weren't out of it for the entire funeral. "Yeah…yeah, I'll be fine. I promise." You clear your throat and offer her a smile.

She hesitates, lips trembling before she slowly gives you a hug. "Your uncle and I are here for you".

"I know".

As the two leave, as well as the rest of the stragglers, it's only you left with the bodies of your parents and grandfather. A sour laugh leaves your lips, tears kissing the corners of your eyes as you drag your feet closer to their caskets. To keep from crying you clench your jaw and curl your lips inward, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the idea of never seeing any of these three people again. If you would've known this was going to happen, you would've visited more, called more. If you would've known…well it doesn't matter anymore because you didn't know, and now you can't do any of those things. 

Slowly and one by one you press a kiss to each of their foreheads, letting your own head rest on top of theirs for just a moment before moving on, hoping the warmth from you would cure the cold coming from them. You stayed there for so long the funeral director had to escort you out, reminding you that they needed to be buried. 

Slowly you got into your car, remembering that everyone was probably on their way or already waiting for you and the bodies to show up. They were all going to be buried in Pelican Town, the same place your father had grown up, the same place you spent your summers during your childhood. 

Entering Pelican Town, nothing had changed since your childhood, and that made everything worse. Things hadn't changed for the town, and yet it wasn't the same for you. Everything has changed for you. The only difference was a couple new headstones, the graveyard now housing your mother, father, and grandfather; though you had noticed the additions of some that weren't there when you had last been here. The mayor was standing next to the open graves, making your heart clench at the finality of it all; the second they were filled with dirt would mark the last time you ever got to see their faces. 

Instead of standing with the rest of the crowd, you stand off to the side, crying silently as you watch the mayor pray over their bodies before they get lowered into the ground. You have to fight yourself to keep from yelling out, knowing that making a scene, making this whole process longer would affect everyone around you. It’s the middle of winter after all, everyone probably wanted to hurry and get back to their regular lives. Swallowing harshley, you only step forward when it's time for all of the guests to throw some dirt on top of the caskets. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the air, clenching your eyes closed and tossing the dirt in. A soft thump is all you get in response, the dirt scattering over the caskets. Your mother and father are sharing a grave, and your grandfather was being buried with your grandmother, the two finally being reunited after a decade and some change of being apart. 

You move backwards again, allowing the others who had arrived to say their final goodbyes. Avoiding looking at what was happening, you focused on the scenery instead. Pelican Town had always been nice, and being covered by snow it was no different. Everything had sort of a Christmas-y vibe to it, but that only made you feel worse. Letting your eyes continue to roam, you spot some of the towns-people walking around, obviously trying to get a glimpse of what was happening. They were walking far too slow to actually be trying to get somewhere, or maybe the calmness of a small town allowed them to take it easy even when they had errands to run. Your eyes connect with a woman with orange hair, her eyes growing wide the second yours stopped on her. She hurried away as soon as she realized she had been caught watching, moving from the large tree that she was under to presumably hide somewhere else. You scoff and turn your head to watch someone else, not really offended but somewhat annoyed that the public can watch as your normal life is ripped away from you. Bitterly, you wondered when the last time this town had held a funeral, or had even had someone die. 

Everything looked peaceful, your presence disrupting the environment and if that woman with the orange hair was anything to go by, this funeral was something that shook the small town that probably knew your grandfather better than you did. You wonder why none of them showed up to the funeral or to this burial. Your thoughts are disrupted by everyone bustling around you, hands on your shoulders words spoken to you, you figure out that the burial is finished by the people moving around you back towards the way you came.

The second you fully realize that the burial had ended, you race out towards your car, not wanting to stop and talk to anyone, not wanting to cry on someone’s shoulders. You decide then that the best course of action would be to throw yourself into your work. So, without another glance back, you drive away from Pelican Town, hoping you would never have to return to the place again.

Scrunching up your nose and frowning, you slam the drawer to your desk harder than you need to, ignoring the sound of the contents inside spilling and moving around. The sound of typing overwhelms your senses, and unlike the persona you’ve put on for the past couple of months, you get up and stalk towards the bathrooms. As you pass the other cubicles, the oncoming anxiety attack immediately takes over your being. 

You push open the bathroom door, wheezing and trying to suck in as much breath as you can. Yet it still feels like you’re drowning, as if every breath you suck in is instead water, and it’s impossible for you to come up to the surface. You fall onto the sink, leaning over it and heaving. Your legs threatened to give out, not wanting to hold you up any longer. Giving in, you allow yourself to sink to the dirty bathroom floor, dragging yourself in between the sinks and the wall, the gross overhead light giving you a headache. 

Your body shakes, still struggling to breathe. As you close your eyes, flashes of the funeral and the last time you saw each of them alive consume you. The second your ears start to ring, you realize that you’re already too far gone, and any of your attempts to self soothe were now made in vain because you couldn’t calm down. You needed help, but at the same time that was the last thing that you wanted. You can feel yourself shake, violently, and your head falls back and forth as you shake, and in the madness you realize that someone was shaking you, it wasn’t you yourself. “Please!” you heard someone plead, yet they sounded too far away from you. 

You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out of it, you want them to go away, and to leave you spiraling here on the ground, and in the back of your cloudy mind you hope that you still get paid for having this breakdown during work hours. Joja Co. wouldn’t take away your wages for this, right? You’re shaken again, this time rougher and your eyes begin to focus on someone kneeling in front of you. The ugliness that was Joja blue assaulting your eyes. You groan, and as you feel yourself begin to surface, realize that you had been screaming. Your throat now raw and hoarse as you begin to calm. 

The woman in front of you is someone you recognize, though you couldn’t recall her name. You only knew her as your supervisor that you rarely actually saw in the office, and behind her were two coworkers looking absolutely frightened and worried for you. Swallowing, you shake your head and haul yourself off of the ground, muttering a ‘sorry’ and pushing your way out of the bathroom. It was painful, the walk back to your cubicle, everyone was simultaneously watching you, but still not really looking at you. As if they wanted to pretend that your breakdown didn’t happen, and you are all too aware of how insane you probably looked, coming out of the bathroom with puffy red eyes, and messed up hair. 

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to have a breakdown at work, the expectations of your superiors and the company itself were always too much for some people to handle, yet you realized that you probably looked different than them, having run all the way to the bathroom, and not out the doors to the elevators. After a breakdown, the person always quits, yet here you are, sitting silently in your cubicle, brushing your hair out of your face as if everything was normal. 

Again you open the drawer and look at the letter that had arrived on your desk weeks ago.

Dear, Y/N

If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.

The same thing happened to me, long ago.

I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life…real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.

I’ve enclosed the deed to that place…my pride and joy: New Hope Farm. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my grandchild.

Good luck.

Love, Grandpa.

P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?

Taking in a breath, you laugh quietly to yourself. Your face still wet from your tears. It was ridiculous, hilarious even, that the very place you wanted to return to ends up the very place you flee in order to get back to yourself. 

You can hear clacks of shoes nearing you, coming from the direction of the same bathroom you just fled from. The woman stops in front of the opening to your cubicle. Staring down at you in your seat with aggravated eyes. The lack of concern annoys you to your very core, and with the least amount of emotion you can muster, you stare back up at her, the letter wrinkled in your hand.

"Yes?"

"That little breakdown you had there was very disruptive," she shifts her weight, "now you're one of your best workers, so we'll give you another chance, but next time something this unprofessional happens we'll have to let you go."

"Right," you swallow harshly, "about that, I need to take time off."

"Time off? Why do you need to take time off?" She asks loudly. You can see the people across from you look over with wide eyes. Vacations were never accepted, and were more likely to be taken as an insult. 

"Well, half of my family has just died...and I don't think I have a good enough mental state to-"

"We gave you time off already, we let you go to the funeral and have an extended weekend. How much more time do you need?" 

You scoff in disbelief, the woman staring at you with all seriousness of a person who has just been told the worst joke in the world. Did she not just witness the breakdown you just had? You sit back roughly in your chair, running a hand through your hair. Your patience started to run thin with the woman, and so in a huff you slam down the letter rather roughly before looking back up at her.

"Can I take a vacation or not?"

She gasps before angling her body back, now glaring daggers at you. "I am the boss, you do what I say. You've already taken time off, so you don't need any more. I'm really very disappointed in you-"

"But-"

"-and I don't think you realize just how lucky you are to be working for Joja Corporation. There's no other job as liberating and rewarding than working for and growing the Joja family."

You make a noise of indignation, completely taken aback with how she had decided to handle this situation, especially after seeing you in the worst state you've ever been in. "You know what?" You slam your hand on your desk, letting out a huff of air through your nose, now staring at the place your hand had settled. "I quit!"

You turn to watch her face as your words sink in. She splutters and takes in breaths as she struggles to come up with something to say as a retort. Laughing loudly in her face, you stand and push past her, going straight towards the supply closet, where you know there are extra boxes. Picking up the smallest that could fit all of your things, you completely ignore your now ex-supervisors desperate pleas. "You have to put in a 2 week notice!"

"Nah, no I don't." You shake your head, now filling the box with all of your things. You'd rather die than leave any of your cute cubicle things behind for them to throw away. Smirking, you carefully place the last plant you had on top of the other knick knacks you had, looking over to the angry woman with the best shit eating grin you could muster.

"I would say it was a pleasure to work with you, but that would be a lie."

The time taken to get back to Pelican Town was doubled due to you selling your car and opting to take the bus instead, and in that time you started to rethink your plan of starting anew without any backup plan. Everyone else that was riding with you had gotten off long ago, and you were left with those who were just along for the ride, having nothing else to do but stay until they were kicked off. 

You were grateful for the emptiness though, no one spoke a word on the way there; they simply allowed you to exist among them, thinking your thoughts without interruption. 

You grunt in pain as you're launched out of your seat, suitcases toppling over loudly. Embarrassed, you scramble to get up, hoping no one was secretly laughing at you because it would honestly cause another breakdown. The bus driver shouted out your arrival, staring at you specifically through the rear view mirror. Sniffing, you grab your suitcases and hurry off of the bus, squinting from the change of lighting.

"Hello! You must be Y/N" an orange haired woman standing waiting at the bus stop, friendly looking and sweaty. "I'm Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He's there now, tidying things up for your arrival."

You stare at her before taking her hand in a firm shake. She's pretty, and young looking but from the look at her hands she had to be older than you think. Her grip takes you off guard only slightly, rough calluses coming in contact with your own soft skin. You nod and grab your things again, wanting to get out from under the sun. There was a cool breeze cooling your skin, but just having been on a musty bus for the past couple of hours made you feel grosser than you normally would've. 

 "The farm's right over here, if you'll follow me" 

You want to tell her that you already know the way, that you've been here multiple times in your childhood, but you stay quiet not wanting to bring up memories that will just hurt you. You think staying silent is an even better idea when she takes two of your suitcases and heads down the road. 

Walking in silence is awkward for the first minute, and so you begin a conversation that you already regret happening the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth. "So," you swallow thickly, "how long have you been waiting out here?" 

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "Not long, maybe 15 minutes? First day of Spring is always brutal with the weather change."

You nod and keep walking, wanting to ask her more questions, yet you know that it would only serve to make everything more awkward. "Do you want something to drink? I have like a spare Gatorade if you're thirsty."

She makes a noise of acceptance and takes the drink from you, gulping it down quickly. The walk takes about 5 more minutes before you make it to a broken down fence.

"This is New Hope Farm."

You gasp loudly, a choked noise forcing its way out of your throat at the look of it. Grass overgrown, trees everywhere, boulders. It looked as if the place had been abandoned for years, and maybe it has been. Your grandfather must've been too old to continue the last couple of years, having been bedridden the months before his passing.  The air smells fresh, though, fresher than you've ever smelled it before, at least since you've grown up. A sense of calm settles over your being, just over the hurt and anxiety. At least you're okay for now. 

"What's the matter? Sure it's a bit overgrown, but there's some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication you'll have it cleaned up in no time." 

You smile at her as you open the gate for you both, entering the messy fields. It's another minute and a half before you actually make it to the farmhouse, "and here we are, your new home". 

You raise your eyebrows at the look of your grandfather's old cottage, it being slightly run down since you had seen it last. Your heart clenched at the sight, realizing that everything did in fact get old without you, or maybe alongside you. Taking in a deep breath, you jump as the door to the house opens loudly. A man, shortish and white haired leaves out of it. He looks slightly familiar, but obviously older. 

"Ah, the new farmer! Welcome I'm Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town." You wait for him to descend the steps, stopping in front of you. You faintly remember him, with less whites in his head and a smaller mustache. His old hat on top of his head is the same from when you were little. You shake his hand, reminding him that you had met him before. 

"Ah, my apologies!"

You shake your head with a small smile, slowly getting tired of pleasantries. "It's fine I was like…maybe 9 the last time I saw you."

The conversation staggers a bit before Lewis sucks in a breath.

"You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!" He looks around, a flicker of sadness in his eyes causing you to wonder how close he and your grandfather were. 

"So...you're moving into your grandfather's old cottage. It's a good house…very 'rustic'." You raise an eyebrow at his words, it was obvious that the house had seen better days.

"Rustic? That's one way to put it. 'Crusty' might be a little more apt though." Robin remarks, looking around.

"Rude!" Lewis gasps, whirling around to stare at Robin in shock. You guess it's the fastest he's moved in a while because his hands grasp at his knees for a split second.

The woman lets out a laugh, slapping a hand over her lips in amusement. You let out a snort, silently agreeing with her.

"Don't listen to her, Y/N. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades." Lewis says, sending the woman a glare. Robin, in turn, gasps in shock, her eyes darting between you two before frowning and huffing. Maybe she was trying to get you to buy an upgrade. 

"Anyway…you must be tired from the long journey. You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that." You nodded to him, but refused in your mind, not wanting to go parading around town introducing yourself to the villagers like some happy-go-lucky extroverted tv character. Lewis begins to leave, but stops a couple feet, maybe even a yard away. He has to yell in order to speak to you, and you sort of understand when you would rather not have to walk all the way back just to leave again. 

"Oh I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell just place it in this box here. I'll come by during the night to collect it. Well…good luck!" His voice is strained, when he shouts. You smile and wave, saying a goodbye to Robin as she walks after him. Turning to the cottage, you feel a sense of overwhelming sadness, your chest growing tight. You know that grieving is a process, and that healing isn’t a linear path, but a thought pops into your mind that this was a bad idea. How are you meant to process, heal, and move on when you’re surrounded by things that make you want to tear your hair out? Sighing, you head inside, setting your things down and snatching an axe off of the wall. 

You think to yourself that the healing can come later, preferably after you demolish the trees taking over the land, at least you’ll be able to see far enough to farm. Stepping back out into the sun, you get to work swinging the axe over your head as well as you can. The thump of the axe embedding itself into the tree sends vibrations up into your bones, yet the pain and unfamiliarity of the feeling makes you feel lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe you just had anger issues. But, chasing that feeling you swing again, and again, and again until both the tree and it’s stump has been reduced to logs that you could pick up. 

You leave the logs on the ground and move on to the next tree, and then the next, and you keep going until you can feel the sweat drip down your back, pooling around the edge of your jeans and your hips. Your breaths come in short, you huffing as you try to bring the axe overhead once more. Your chest is tight, and your head feels as if it’s not screwed all the way on. ‘One more time.’ You think to yourself, bringing the axe upwards. You can tell that the tree was close to being fully chopped down, and so with the last of your energy, you force yourself to at least complete it. Telling yourself that it was more about clearing everything quickly, you knew deep down that you just wanted to feel something other than sorrow. Your arms shake as the tool almost slips out of your grasp above your head. Arms burning, you force them forwards as you swing down, you hear the thump of the axe in the wood, and you fall over ears ringing, your vision fading to black.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay everyone, get ready for a long as hell post.

Tw, suicide attempt, suicide, suicide talk

This is my really indepth Shawn hc that is more of just straight up a story at this point

So STRAP IN!

Okay, so during the ten years, at some point Shawn is super duper depressed. He's not going well at all. He's thinking of offing himself, and he has it all planned out. But, he calls his dad first, in hopes that despite their rocky relationship his dad will talk him out of it. But, as soon as his dad picks up the phone...well, you know Henry, he assumes the worst. So Henry is already yelling at him, why are you calling, what do you need now, blah blah blah, so shawn hangs up on him without ever getting a word in edgewise, he never gets to tell him why he called, and now it's just confirmed to him that he should end it and he's feeling a little spiteful too, so he downs a bottle of painkillers, one of the ones with the candy coating, yknow? He only survives bc he didn't care to lock his apartment door and one of the random girls he's always hooking up with came by to get something she accidentally left there, he doesn't answer but the door isn't locked so she thinks she'll just slip in an get her stuff, but instead she finds shawn and gets him an ambulance. After Shawn gets better, he either manages to charisma his way into convincing the doctors that it wasn't *really* a suicide attempt and gets realesed or does his regular sneaky shit and escapes and dips town so he doesn't have to do any therapy or go to grippy sock jail.

To this day, Henry doesn't know, GUS doesn't know, NO ONE KNOWS, *shawn tells NO ONE*

And he can't take advil anymore, can't stand the candy coating.

----------

Hear me out, him accidentally letting it slip during a big argument with Henry

I'm thinking Shawn says something that alludes to what happened during the argument without out right saying it so Henry gets to be more confused than angry as Shawn realizes what he almost reveals and completely shuts down refisung to elaborate

I'm imaging that scene in modern family where Alex accidentally mentions to her dad that she did stuff she wasn't supposed to as a teen and slowly backs out of the room

-------

And I could go on a whole rant about the candy coated painkillers, and I will!

The idea of picking something that's supposed to be sweet, that is supposed to go down easier

Because that's kind of the whole point of candy coating, and Advil tastes good as hell, I don't care what anybody says

He chose something that would be sweet and go down easy for his final moments

But it ended up sickly sweet

And it still got stuck in his throat

And it burnt on the way down

He started out tasting good (there's a reason Advils child lock game is so good) but it ended up tasting awful and burning

The burn and pain contrasted with how he thought he would go out

(Maybe even a perfect metaphor for his relationship with his father too....)

The taste is stuck in his mouth forever, a taste he can never forget

The sickly sweet burn of a whole bottle of candy coated painkillers

And even just the term "Candy Coated Painkillers" feels kind of perfect for Shawn, like aiygjvifjtjejjdksndh

---

Also the fact that he never tells Gus? AUGHH hits me right in the heart

He doesn't call his mom or his best friend, he doesn't tell them, they wouldn't even know until after he was long gone

-----

Maybe Lassie finds out at some point, finally switching gears from looking for something in his criminal record to checking his medical history

Or as a favor for Juliet (thank you Sid/@obsidiancreates ) to find out the truth about a scar he won't tell her about

Lassie doesn't tell anyone, but he does switch out Juliet's stash of Advil for Tylenol, no candy coating.

Shawn finds out he knows because he gets protective of all the new suicide cases in a completely different way than before

Shawn has to tell him to tone it down before Gus starts getting suspicious

-------

And then of course, there's the major angst potential of an AU where Shawn /does/ die

Especially if told from Henry's perspective...

Especially if all of Psych is just Henry imagining what could have been if Shawn didn't die......

But that's all for now!

Enjoy, angst lovers!

[Thanks to @obsidiancreates and @mores0 for talking with me about this AT LENGTH in the Psych discord :)]

[chrisisvbun]

Okay, now I need more Logan and Bunny!Girl 😩

a/n: ur wish is my command.

guilty as sin. logan howlett x bunny!femreader. part OO2.

a/n 2: btw I'm trying this new cute little layouts tell me if you like them:) i've been really inactive bcs of work shit and been really sick too, but im writing i swear

synopsis: After peace came to the mansion after your arrival, you did not have another encounter with Logan, so spending time with Ororo became a regular thing for you, although Logan doesn't seem to like it.

cw: PTSD related to prostitution and sex, depression, harrasment. a bit of ooc logan, mentions of sex.

words: 2.7k

first.

☆☆☆

You liked Logan.

Well, ‘like” is a pretty vague word, but that’s the one that fits better. You liked him. He was handsome, he was fun, he was sweet with you and you were comfortable around him. You liked that teasing game that you used to have with him, mostly he was bothering you until you slapped his shoulder while he laughed.

So, why wouldn’t you date him? He was clearly into you too

Oh, such a silly answer. You got shy.

Because of your nature you are almost forced to be shy, but you weren’t that shy, you were pretty extroverted when you had to, you didn’t really mind talking to people, and you were a teacher, so you had to be slightly extrovert to have that job.

But after that night in the kitchen, when Logan’s hands hugged your skin while taking you in the sweetest way, you couldn’t look him in the eye without getting red all over and shaking like a scared bunny before running away. Logan frowned everytime you would run away from him, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you when you gave classes and just roamed around you for the following months.

He was obsessed with you. He could watch you for ages, watch that white, curly, pretty hair of yours, how it fell through your back till your lower back, how your shirt was lifted by your puffy tail and how your ears bounced whenever you got surprised or scared. You were so pretty, so cute, and so perfect to corrupt.

He was a bad man, but for you, he would turn into a gentleman.

But you were avoiding him, but you weren’t alone, of course. You had Ororo, who was slowly turning into your best friend. Really slowly. After being abandoned by the one you thought was your best friend, it was hard to trust again. But Ororo was patient, kind, and really funny, hanging out with her had always left you tearing up and grabbing your belly because you would laugh so hard.

You liked spending time with her, but sometimes the activities she would like doing triggered you in some way.

The therapist said that it was normal that many memories are blocked to protect yourself, but that they could be expressed and manifested in certain ways. It wasn't a lie. The trauma was clearly very heavy, enough for you to forget most of the events. There were days where you didn't want to leave your room, the pain in your chest wouldn't let you move from the bed, and as soon as you tried, you would collapse on the floor next to the bed in desperate tears.

Ororo had insisted on having sleepovers together, but you refused. There was something about it that took you back to a deep, dark place, a room where the only thing you can hear are the echoes of suffering women, yours mixing with those of others. Sometimes, checking to make sure you were okay, Scott and Ororo would look into your room and see you curled up in a ball in the upper corner of the bed, uncomfortable, as if you needed it. A part of you didn't want to get better, it was easier not to know, to live in unconsciousness, but you knew that it was not healthy, that that life was not healthy.

That’s why you started to go clubbing with her, you had already gone two times, this one being the third one. Ororo was sitting next to you, applying a pale pink blush in your pale cheeks before putting some gloss in your lips.

“You are done, girl.” She stood up and passed you your gloss. 

“Thank you, love.” You smiled warmly. You grabbed your bag and began walking downstairs with her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me call a cab.” Ororo grabbed her while speaking.

A little creek in the kitchen made you raise one of your ears.

���It’s me, bun, don’t worry.”

Fuck.

Out of all the people in the mansion. He had to show.

“Going out?” He crossed his big arms and leaned in the doorframe.

“Yeah! I’m taking her to a club that I know she’ll love.” Ororo smiled.

“ ‘Kay, I’ll drive you.” He said, patting his jeans to find his keys.

“It’s not necess-”

“God! Thank you, cab cost an arm and a leg.” Ororo huffed a laugh as you sighed. 

You were glad that the blush in your cheeks was dissimulated by your makeup.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, pretending to be on your phone as Ororo grabbed a coat she had forgotten upstairs. You wanted to kill her, she left you alone with him, gosh, wasn’t it obvious how nervous did you get around him? Maybe not, and she just enjoyed seeing you like that. Yeah, that was your best friend. And worse, he was smoking. Looking so hot and nonchalant.

Logan coughed a bit before looking at you, up and down, and huffed.

“What?” You dared to say, without looking at him.

He shook his head. “Nothin’, bub.”

“No, go ahead.” You left your mobile aside and crossed your arms.

Logan looked down to your chest covered in your black sleeveless corset and smiled.

“You look gorgeous, bunny.” He said, looking at the window and taking a puff from his cigar.

You closed your eyes shut, almost your whole body getting blushed at the compliment. Not pretty, not cute, not good. Gorgeous. He said that word.

“Thanks.” You mumbled shyly, your breath started to get a little worked up. He noticed, of course, and the sight made him smirk.

“I’m back!” Ororo got back in the backseat, and you exhaled like you had been holding your breath for years.

The ride was quiet to you, your mind was peacefully roaming around the lights on the road, even having Logan next to you. That until his hand went to rest on your bare thigh. God, he had to ruin your peace, of course.

His fingers moved to the inner part of your thigh, his palm resting on the front of it. His fingertips massaged your flesh gently, like he knew what he was doing, like he knew how wet you would get with that.

You finally got to the club, some loud music was muffled by the closed doors. You grabbed your jacket and your purse to get out of that freaking car, you could almost scent your own arousal by that moment.

“Wanna join us, Logan?” Ororo suggested.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Guess someone has to take care of you two.” He sighed and got out of the car.

Ororo slapped your shoulder a bit when Logan was away. “You'll thank me later.” and she left too.

You sighed and began to get out of the car too, starting to regret all of that.

“Gonna stick in the bar, you guys have fun.” He said, quickly getting in to go where he said.

“Well, I guess I won't have to thank you for anything.” You said, almost glad that he had left.

You started to get slightly happier and expectant for that night, you could have fun, you wouldn't get too drunk and maybe, if the music wasn't so good for dancing, you could seat and enjoy it. Yeah, a good night.

(...)

Everything you thought that wouldn't happen, happened. You were some long hours into the party, and music was great, surprisingly great. Not some weird music that teens just used as background sound to get drunk and high. Shakira, Britney Spears, Katy Perry, Madonna and Christina Aguilera were sounding all the time, and you couldn't feel happier. That until “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé started, you almost freaked out, and started screaming the lyrics with Ororo.

It was relevant that you were… drunk. Not in the clouds, just drunk enough to feel funny and energized to dance.

“All the single ladies, now put your hands up.” You sang with Ororo while lifting your hands.

Logan, as a totally mature man, he huffed. Single? Huh, if it were up to him, you'd be tied to the bed right now, and not in those shorts that hugged your butt beautifully and in a thin green tank top with thin sleeves. Between both garments he could see the edge of your baby blue underwear and that beautiful, round, adorable bunny tail.

God, you were beautiful, and he was disgusting, he couldn't take his eyes out of your ass and your tail and how you moved your hips smoothly in circles, almost provoking him. On those ‘whoa-oh-oh’ you would move your hips up to the left, up to the right, making your tail bounce.

Was this the karma of provoking you back in the car? Because it was working perfectly, he was hard as a rock.

‘Cause if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it.’

Oh, he was. If he saw one more man looking at you again, he was putting a fucking ring on your finger if that would make you stay at home with him.

In the blink of an eye, a man appeared behind you, you heard quietness when his disgusting fingers grabbed your buttcheek like he had the right too. The muscular memory to pull against it like you were taught to almost won, it didn't because you saw Ororo’s look in her eyes, a look of displeasure and anger.

Your body tensed at the realization of the situation, and that happening in a matter of seconds, your nails went to sink on his shoulder, only Logan's hand stopping you.

“We are going home.” He said, firmly grabbing your wrist.

You were in the passenger seat now. And you didn't really know how you got there, you supposed Logan had to push you there because you couldn't move, the ghost feeling of that stranger touch, that at the same time felt so familiar.

You were quiet, Ororo and Logan too, but their thoughts were louder than yours, you could almost hear what they were thinking.

Once he pulled over at the mansion, you slowly climbed off the car, putting on your jacket as you walked in. Logan frowns, worried, Ororo had just a concerned look on her eyes as they both follow you in.

You felt almost dizzy, desperate to reach your room, to go and shower, clean yourself up from the touch, from the nonconsensual hands that touched you recently and in the past. The feeling of a dirty touch in your clothes made you want to rip them away. You used to do that since your fur was warm enough for you, but now the feeling seems to have pierced your jeans and burned your clothes. 

You couldn’t hear Logan’s voice calling you, you just went upstairs and locked in your bedroom.

Logan sighed and looked down at Ororo when she spoke. “She just needs to rest, to think.” She began. “I’ve never seen you this worried.”

Logan shrugged. “Don’t know what’s she doin’ to me.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whatever this shit is that i’m fucking feeling, feels like shit.”

“I know what it is.” She gave him a knowing grin. “And you know it too.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, confused, before opening his eyes widely in surprise. “What? I’m not in love with her, Ororo.”

She just chuckled and began heading to her room. “I’ve never said that.”

Fuck. He was one hundred and eighty years old and he fell for the same old trick. He was turning into a silly teen because of a goddamn bunny. 

But god, he knew you weren’t just that, you were the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life, he was the one that got all drunk with you, all bunny-drunk.

He spent the night thinking about you, how were you, how did you feel, could he help you out on something, did you need anything, did you need him? Maybe he was acting like a teen but he couldn’t help it, he was so worried, his heart beated hard in his chest at the thought of you in the state in which he saw you when you came back. When dawn came, he got up like he had nine hours of sleep, when he had just had three, and walked through the mansion, hoping to take a glance at you, but nothing. You weren’t around, Ororo said that you were probably not even awake yet: you could sleep for half a day when one of your episodes hit.

Suddenly, you appeared. You had your curly white hair pinned up, your bunny ears held there too, your face gray of tiredness, wearing some wide black sweat pants and a black hoodie on top. His face lit up when his eyes met your tired figure, while slowly worrying about your state. He didn’t know what to say to you, he couldn’t do the usual ‘good morning’ because it was nearly lunchtime and it was clearly not a good morning.

“Made coffee for you.” He said as taking a sip of his beer, you looked at him with slight surprise. “It’s right there on the machine.”

You smiled gently but tired. “Thanks.”

You sat in front of him with your coffee, putting your feet in the wood base of the chair while quietly drinking as he read the newspaper. Something about the domesticity of the situation made you feel a lot better, his presence being like a bandage to your suffering. You looked up at him and gently smiled.

“You can go to rest more if you want, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready.” He said, lifting his eyes from the paper.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You said lower than usual. “Although I’ll love to take a nap on the couch.” You said, standing up and stretching.

Once you were on the couch, comfortably resting your head on the edge of the headboard, it didn't take long for Logan to go and sit besides you. He hovered his hands over your body until you gave him a gentle nod, telling him he could touch you. He moved your body so you were on your side, resting your head in the pillow, and he moved behind you to hug your waist in his hands, pulling you closer until you felt his warmth pressed against your back. He sank his nose in your neck, exhaling in relief when he finally got to have you in his arms, his hands caressed your soft fur up and down to get you relaxed.

"Wanna talk about it a bit?" He asked in such a comfortable, warm voice, you couldn't tell him no.

"I almost leaned in." You said. "It was like muscular memory, i got so... normal about harrassment, so used to it that... I almost leaned in."

Logan heard you, that's what you loved about him. He listened, all the time.

"I feel bad about it." You said, caressing his hands.

"Why is that?" He asked while gently pressing your flesh.

"I like the touch, the contact, the sex, the provocation." You said, your fingers started to play with his. "But not from anyone. If I would had the chance to choose, I would've wanted you to touch me."

Logan smiled in your neck and pressed his lips there, leaving a small trail of kisses. Nothing sexual, just loving kisses.

"I am touching you now." He started talkin in your neck. "You like my touch?"

You nodded. "When it's from you, I like it." He gave you a playful bite in your shoulder which made you giggle.

"Listen, bunny, this world is a shit. You went through hell, and of course that type of touch will make you go through it again. I don't want that pain in you, but I know I can't remove it." He gently flipped you around, accommodating a strand of your white hair out of your face. "I just want you to be with you when you need me, to hold you, bun. I know that damn therapist told you that you can have your time alone when you need it, but..." He looked at your ruby eyes, his eyes softened and holding your cheek like you were porcelain. He longed for you, you could see that in his eyes: it wans't something casual to him. "...Whenever you need me, I'll make a fucking whole in the goddamn universe to go find yo-"

"I'm in love with you." You said like it was trapped in your throat. "I'm in love with you, Logan."

[nerdieforpedro]

A Certain Fae's Melancholy

Jack Daniels (Fae) x GN reader

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: You were lulled into a world you never asked for and the reason that Jack Daniels wanders.

Warnings: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Shifting perspectives, Drinking, Alcohol. References to Depression, Scheming, Stalking, Lonely souls, Mild Sexual Content, Aging, Sorrow, Character Death

Word Count: less than 3k

Notes: This is for the Monster (S)mash challenge hosted by @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes. This wasn't this fic I intended to write, but it's the fic that I wrote. I certainly smashed something with this, just not what I expected.

Not Beta-read, back on my "shoot it out there and hope for the best" mantra. This is the first thing I've written in a few weeks so...could be why maybe? 😅

Main Masterlist/ Jack Daniels-Agent Whiskey Masterlist/ Challenges Masterlist/ AO3 Link

The low rumble of laughter rouses you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep. Only that you’d come to these woods while it was daylight. The sun is setting, it must have been at least a few hours but you suspect longer. Looking down at your arm, your wristwatch is gone. No use trying to tell time now.

Taking a deep breath, someone is watching you, likely the same person whose laughter woke you. He’s tall wearing a tan stenson, tipping it toward you like a greeting with a grin as he steps toward you from underneath the shadow of one of the towering trees. It’s then that you realize two things: the first is that the trees look different from the gray-brown wood that are near your home; the second is that you know this man. Your conversations have been increasing in number and you found yourself coming to appreciate his appearances at your local bar. They weren’t too often, meaning he wasn’t there every time you went, but enough that he seemed to be a regular.

“Now that’s sweet of you sugar. You got that little rabbit’s foot I let you borrow for your interview. How did that go?” The observation and question don’t match the situation. You find that despite the unease you feel, you take his large hand as he guides you to your feet and steadies you. The grin softens into a smile and he pats your head, pushing questions that your should be asking him aside, you utter two words that bind you closer to him without realizing: 

“Thank you.” His hand glides from your lower back to the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking your exposed skin and it is warm at the friction, but cool to the touch. “Your hands are cold Jack. That old saying might be true, ‘cold hands make for a warm heart’ and all that.” It’s your turn to join him in making birds vacate the trees at the boom of your combined glee. 

Looking up into Jack’s eyes and they flash a bright shade of green and it catches your attention, to both the color and the direction that you both are heading. You don’t remember walking with him or him stating a direction. He takes one of your hands in his and interlocks your fingers. “Now, now, gorgeous. Don’t be scared. You’ve already given me so much, a little bit more won’t hurt.” Slowly making your way up the steps of an all white house. It appears almost brand new, everything is painted, the door is a crimson red with emerald ivy having overgrown and covers up part of the front of the porch. It’s a stark contrast, given that the shutters are a sienna brown as is the roof. Jack says your name and points down, your name appears after his on the doormat welcoming any would-be visitors to what you presume to be your shared home now. Once inside, Jack eases you down on the couch and pats your thigh. “Now. I’ll give you time to adjust, I see the wheels turning in the noggin of yours.” His rough palm cups your cheek and you place your hand on his, to remove you had thought but then you remember some of the conversations you’ve had with Jack at the bar. 

The first time you met Jack, you made a cowboy joke. He expected it given the form he decided to take on. He finds that many men and women are attached to the allure of a rugged cowboy and possibly being the one to tame them. Daniels had gotten this same sense and considered just having some fun romps in your bed and not thinking twice about it. Unlike many of the humans he’d encountered, he found you funny. Jack normally laughed when he’d perceived that it was socially acceptable to do so. Thankfully, being alive for five or six centuries, he’d gotten the hang of figuring out when to do so. The years blend together and so do the various humans, you stuck out to him. He genuinely laughed while the two of you drank that night. He was able to have the first two pieces of getting his next fix of companionship: deciding on you as his partner and your name. 

The second time Jack saw you at the bar, he was upfront and told you what he was, a fae. A creature that has seen empires and civilizations come and go, explored a myriad of cultures and experienced maybe that many lovers. Not many companions though. Powerful beings are typically lonely after all. You followed that up stating that you had Scottie beam you down and were going to give the humans in area fifty-one to talk about. You could make some of those probes happen with a tentacle or two and would ask to borrow some of Daniels’ fairy dust to sprinkle on a few of your friends to give them some good luck. Also to get a few of them laid, they whined about that a bit. While Jack did get a kick of what your plan was if you were an alien, he assured you that indeed he was a fae and not a fairy. “That’s some Disney horse shit sugar.” 

Subsequent nights were spent with you sharing different details of your life with Jack and him telling you different stories of his adventures. He knew you weren’t taking him seriously, likely believing him to be full of tall tales and bluster, but it was the night that you told him of your interview for a higher position at your job that his eyebrows raised. He’d been trying to think of something to give you that wouldn’t seem too out of the blue, something that you would accept with limited questions. He just needs it to be something of his, that way he can draw you further into his world. Most people would have blown off someone seemingly talking out of the side of the neck or giving so many false (to you) accounts of different events, but Jack knew that glint in your eye. He’d gotten you excited to hear what outrageous tale he would tell you next. “Next time I see ya, I’ll have a little somethin’.” You’d mentioned that your interview was next month, so Jack would take a week, maybe a week and half off. Distance creates longing and it would be less suspicious when he saw you the next time. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still see you of course, you just wouldn’t know. That was how he discovered you’d spoken to someone about him. Actually that same friend group you wanted to use his so-called ‘fairy dust’ on. Daniels does appreciate that you speak of him in a positive light, it’s nice to hear, but the fact that you mentioned him at all is the third piece of his plan. One he hadn’t been counting on and he considers a happy accident. Encounters with fae are not to be spoken of, not that you wouldn’t have known. It’s part of the game and Jack is more than half of the way there. 

Feeling you embrace him in a side hug with a hand clasped on his shoulder, Jack Daniels can be honest with himself that he’s begun to care about you and that it may not be just a companion he wants - he may want a relationship. One of those give and take sorts that he hasn’t experienced since the Industrial Revolution, after a shot or three of whiskey is when he gives you a good luck charm - the rabbit’s foot. The very same that you hold in your hand as you sit on the couch. He’d wished you good luck on your interview then. 

Jack has taken to the kitchen and is making black tea with honey. Normally it would have milk, but as he mentions when he gives you your cup, he despises the taste of milk. “Only good in cereal, baked or cooked in something. Don’t want none unless it’s one of those three.” 

“So, am I just going to be here now, with you? I also didn’t get the job. Guess the charm didn’t work.” You look down at the tea, unable to meet his eyes. Your anger at the situation is starting to seep in at how you’ve been lulled into coming to a secluded house with this man and he’s clearly targeted you, but he’s being polite about it. “All of this is disconcerting Jack.” Your lips nearly touch the mug before he speaks.

“I was upfront with everything darlin’ and told you I’m a fae. We ain’t like them fairies in the story books or movies. We like entertainment and mischief. Think like that twiggy guy who’s always fightin’ with his brother but less daddy issues and no delusions of grandour.” Slurping his tea, he runs his tongue along his upper lip and smirks as you watch. “You can act like you don’t wanna be here, but I didn’t ask you to keep talking to me, give me your name, or to even come to these woods. You were trying to get promoted because your job is always putting the cart way before the horse and making you deal with it for less pay. You’re lonely just like I am and tired of it. Now if you wanna stay, you drink that tea and I can stay by your side until the end of your days. I’m a man of my word.”

“Is something in this tea?” You stare at it and it smells and looks ordinary. His words sting, you’d told him too much about how you feel about your life right now. His ochre brown eyes are fixed on you, matching them you see it. The emptiness that looks back at you when you ready yourself in the morning and when prepping for bed at night. “The void. It truly is the same for you isn’t it? But won’t be painful for you when I’m gone? My life has got to be a few blips in your lifetime. Wouldn’t I be getting more out of this?”

“One might see it that way, but I’m different from most fae. They’re fine being on their own for the most part, but allows those in who I feel I may be able to build a life with, even if it isn’t that long. If there’s one enviable thing about you humans, you match one another in time where I also seem to have too much of it.” Jack removes his stenson and lays it on the coffee table, sipping more of his tea with his eyes still on you. “Tea’s getting cold sugar. What’s it gonna be?”

Maybe you were swayed by his words, maybe it was your own feelings of someone who understood what it feels to know the pangs of heartache were, maybe it was the chance to escape everything and start anew on a curious journey that very few have had the privilege of. Gulping down the tea gave you your first view of a surprised Jack Daniels. His mug clattered on the table next to his hat and he grabs you by the shoulders. “Hot damn baby! Looks like you’re ridin’ with me for the long haul!” 

Slowly, food you had been used to eating lost its taste. Jack explained that because you were now eating food he prepared, you were becoming more acclimated to the fae world. About a month in, Jack showed you where he gathered the food he prepared. It turns out, it’s actually odd little berries that he uses magic to make them appear and taste like foods you’re more familiar with. Picking the fruits is a fun outing and leads to the two of you getting caught in the rain, where you had your first kiss with Jack. The only reason it took this long is because he was indeed a fae true to his word and wasn’t going to force you to do anything you weren’t ready for. He also explained after you kiss, that he may have had to initiate soon because his kiss or other intimate contact would protect you from the Fae Queen. It sounded like one of his many jokes, but by this point, all of them as they relate to fae have proven not to be jokes. 

Things progressed quickly after that, it seems having less of an appetite for substance led to other needs strengthening. At first you thought it was just Jack’s libido that was high as he normally sought you out around the house, but when you pushed him on his back flat on the dining room table and you riding him like one of the bucking broncos he normally joked about, it was clear that sex had replaced food for you too. 

Over the next few decades, Jack took you across the seas, continents, deserts, plains and more. In the span of ten years, you’d nearly crossed off all the places on a bucket list you’d compiled. You aged slower due to your consumption of the fae fruit, but time still marched on and Jack looked the same as the day you’d met him. Mustache still dark and bushy, all his hair atop his head and a beautiful shade of umber. His excitement and joy at watching you marvel at what he could show you kept him going. Jack knew he could do it as long as he had you with him, holding his hand and laughing like in that forest all those years ago. 

Daniels had also taken you to explore the fae world, it was on a different plane than the human one, almost overlapping at different points but also had fixed pockets of space. He told a few of the fae about your old joke about fairy dust and they did give you some. It was disappointing though, only made your hands itchy. The fae would come visit you both at your home as they found you quite interesting. Apparently, you’re the longest lasting human Jack has been with, usually they’re dead by now according to them. Jack hushes them but you wonder how many have been before you, it can’t have been that many but it does cross your mind sometimes, even when Jack it rutting into you or if you’re looking up at him as you help relax with your throat after spending another afternoon watching the sun set again in Aruba. 

With your advancing age, you and Jack travel less and he’s more careful with you. Almost like you’re made of glass which you assure him you’re not. Neither of your parents were glassmakers. Still with that humor that Daniels loves. He’s thankful that you’ve made it to your twilight years, well past your eightieth year. Daniels still sees that funny soul that keeps his heart feeling light with every touch and verbal exchange. A rather odd couple that draws many an eye when you’re out and about, such an older partner for this hearty cowboy, if only they knew the truth. It is not for them to know.

Just as it is not for anyone to know what Jack Daniels sounds like when he assumes you were asleep when he arrived home from gathering more fruit for the two of you. Your body, always so pleasantly heated when he’d rest his head in your lap or on your shoulder. Even the touch of your hand was a tepid treat against his cool skin, but today it matches his. Jack wants to toss the idea away and just carry you inside to warm you up by the fire but he knows it will do nothing. Your skin will remain cold as that humorous soul he loved is no longer there.

Jack Daniels finds that your death is the hardest he’s experienced thus far. He was able to have you with him for decades. His home is now barren and the fruit he has gathered doesn’t matter. The solitude he had eliminated with your presence has returned with such an abrupt embrace. Daniels fights it as he picks your body up and carries it to the backyard, though he did not stop there.

No one, fae or human has seen Jack Daniels since. It could be he has assumed a new form and identity, but most believe that he’s still wandering somewhere with the remains of the one he loved the most in both worlds: You.

A few people who may be interested in the sads 😭: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @readingiskeepingmegoing @604to647 @lady-bess

@morallyinept @trulybetty @maggiemayhemnj @tinytinymenace @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@guelyury @yorksgirl @fhatbhabiee

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .12

Yandere!Eustass Kidd x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, mentions of death, amputation?, non canonical events, reader got trauma and ptsd up the wazoo, characters are probably nerfed but whatever it's my story

A/N: it is done. IT IS OVER. I should make a key for who's talking: (Nami-regular orange) (Chopper-small orange) (Zoro-regular green) (Usopp-small green) (Sanji-regular blue) (Franky-small blue) (Kidd-regular red) (Luffy-small red)

~~~

You grit your teeth as you clutch the transponder snail until your knuckles turn pale. His words bring a burning rage to run through your veins as the familiar sizzling of your devil fruit powers ring along the Thousand Sunny.

“How dare you say you love me after all you’ve done!” You scream into the phone. “You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face! You're a sick fuck who took everything from me!” Tears of frustration pour down your face as the memories of the past three to four years run through your mind.

“I don’t even remember my own mother's face cause of you! I never even got to say goodbye!” Your knees grow weak as you clutch your heart, the throbbing pain becoming almost unbearable. Biting your lip, you try to hold back your hiccups.

Arms begin to wrap around you, a symbol that you aren’t alone. That familiar smell of rubber burns through your mind. The cracking of your electricity does little to sway your captain. Just then, you were stripped of the phone as Zoro stole it from your hands.

“Listen here, you bastard, the moment I even see you, I’ll cut you down. I’ll kill you before you even see her.” The venom in Zoro’s voice made a quivering smile appear on your lips. Through your tears even a spark of hope manages to shine through that maybe if Zoro and the others are willing to, they can help you, Tashigi.

Even though you can’t trust Eustass, you know you heard her voice. And knowing that, you can't let Eustass hurt her any more than he already has. She means too much to you and has been there for you all throughout your first and second trimester of pregnancy. You had to save her. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t.

You couldn’t hear what else Kidd said as Zoro slammed the transponder snail down, a vein popping on his forehead as he gripped his swords tightly. “Zoro?”

“We need to keep watch now. He’s coming.” Hearing Zoro’s words makes your heart drop. How long until he arrives? Days? Hours? Minutes? The thought kills you inside. What if you weren’t paying attention, and he managed to sneak up on you? Would he set fire to Sunny as he did with G-5’s ship?

Not to mention, his crew is composed of more people than the Straw Hats. While they're strong, what if? The fact there even is a chance makes you feel nausea. If he won, then he’d kill them. How he’s acted the past 6 months has shown he’s not afraid to take lives if it comes to you. 

“We need to have people on watch at all times.”

“Not to mention be prepared for anything if his actions are anything to judge by. I highly doubt the bastards gonna play fair.” Everyone seemed to nod in agreement at Sanji’s words. The feeling of Luffy’s arms uncoiling around you makes a cold breeze flow through you. The familiar sizzling of your devil fruit powers now gone.

“Thank you, Luffy.” With a sign, you wipe your cheeks of tears. “I needed that.”

“Don’t worry (Y/N), we won’t let him win.” Nami puts her hand on your shoulder. “You and the baby will be safe.”

“Yeah… me and the baby.” Nami’s words cause a sense of dread to fill you. Even if Kidd were to die, evidence of his existence would forever haunt you in the shape of an infant. Even if it only shared half his genetics, you know you’d see him every day in the child's eyes.

How were you supposed to be a mother if the baby was caused by the man who destroyed your entire world? Hatred for an innocent being who was brought into the world at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was easy to listen to the advice around you, yet the voice in the back of your mind lets you never forget whose child your carrying. 

A sigh escapes your lips as your head begins to pound. “Ah…I think I’m going to take a nap. My head is hurting.”

“Okay, get some sleep, okay? You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I’ll walk you there.” You nod at Robin's offer. The two of you make your way towards the girl’s bunk, the weight of the world seemingly on your shoulders.

“You won’t be alone to raise the baby (Y/N). We’re here to help.”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Am I really that transparent?”

Robin rubs your back as the two of you sit on your bunk. “It’s normal to feel the way you do, especially after all he’s done. It's normal for a person to be feeling the way you do.”

“I hate this. How am I supposed to get over and heal when I’d have the memory of him always with me? I’m a horrible person Robin, taking out my anger on someone who’s done no wrong.”

“(Y/N) you still have a few months till the baby arrives. No one expects you to be joyous. We know what’s happened, and what you feel is valid.”

“Will I ever get over this?” You ask in a whisper.

“You’ve been through hell and back. Some things may heal and some never well. It's simply the course of being human." Leaning your head on her shoulder, you wipe your tears with your hands and put them on your thighs.

“I can’t even remember what I looked like without my scars. I don’t even feel like me. I feel like a shell. An empty husk of what I used to be.” You admit with a shaky voice.

Robin carefully pets the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could reverse time to make everything better. But for what it’s worth, I think it shows your strength, your will to survive.” Sniffling, your eyes look down.

“Maybe. But my will to survive cost people their lives.” The news of Kidd’s crimes materializes in your mind like a bad memory. “People just living their lives only for it to get cut short simply cause I took a step on their island.”

“Kidd killed those people (Y/N). It was his choice to do it.” Robin continues to try and soothe you. “Don’t blame yourself for his actions.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you look at Robin. “How can I not? There are thousands of people who hate me and blame me for it all! How can I sleep at night knowing that?” Robin pulls you into a tight hug, the simple action making your heart calm its aching, if only for a moment. 

~~~

The night began to show its signs as the sun made its descent. The beautiful colors of the sunset had you sitting on the deck, leaning against one of Nami’s orange trees. The sweet smell almost reminded you of home—or the memory of it.

“Come on, love! We’re almost there!” Your fiance's voice echoed in your ear, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Picking up the pace, you finally managed to climb up the hill. Out of breath, but you did it.

“Tada!” Looking around, you see a picnic set up under an orange tree, with a view over the entire island as the sun begins to set. 

“Wow…(....) it’s beautiful,” you say as you sit down on the blanket. Looking at the horizon, you can’t help but wonder what lies beyond your small island.

“It is, isn’t it?” The sound of rustling has you turning your head towards your boyfriend. Raising a brow, you watch him fumble with something.

“(....) you okay?”

Your fiance jumped before turning to face you. “Yep! Everythings fine!”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Yeah, I promise I’m fine! Why don’t we eat?” Letting out a soft chuckle, you simply nod and begin to unpack the food your fiance has brought.

As the two of you ate, warmth bloomed in your chest. If there was a heaven, you were in it. You have never felt so content in your life as you do right now. If only every day could be like this: sitting next to the one you love while watching the sunset.

“Um…(Y/N)?”

“Yeah (....)?” Turning your head, your hands fly to your mouth. Your heart beats against your ribs as tears begin to blur your vision. With teary eyes and overflowing love, you watch your fiance get down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

The beautiful and heartbreaking memory of the best day of your life flashes in your mind like a movie. Pay to watch, but the payment is heartache and tears. The knowledge that you’ll never be able to feel such happiness and love like that again. No amount of love the Straw Hats give will ever be enough to replace the love you lost that day.

As you watch the sunset and the waves move along the sea’s surface, a feeling of emptiness and loneliness hits you hard. The ache in your heart never stops, reminding you of the pain and damage you’ve caused people by simply being alive—the hell you’ve put people through. Not a second goes by when you don’t think about it. Every moment spent dwelling on what could have been seemingly dissolving what’s left of the woman you used to be.

What once was a lively spirit that grew up shielded by the horrors of the world is now tainted. Not an inch of what used to be remains. You don't recognize yourself when you look at yourself in the mirror. The scars that cover your body like a macabre mural forever remind you that no matter where you go or what you do, a part of Kidd will always be with you—always there to remind you of everything you’ve endured and lost.

The branding you bear on your chest will keep people aware of the Kidd pirates for years to come. Even if they perish tonight or in the next few years, they’ll always be remembered as long as you're alive.

As you feel the breeze brush through your hair, a slight calm rushes through you. It felt as if only for a minute, you were home, breathing in the south blue air. Listening to children laugh and play as they ran through the schoolyard. Couples walking hand in hand and looking at each other lovingly. But now, they were nothing more than memories. 

“(Y/N)? Are you here?”

“I’m over here, Chopper!” The sound of little footsteps coming towards you makes you wipe your watery eyes and sniffle before smiling. “Hey Chopper, how can I help you?”

“I just haven’t seen you since earlier today, and I got worried.”

“Aw.” You grab Chopper before pulling him into a tight hug. You're so sweet. But I’m okay. I’m simply right here watching the sunset.”

“How are you feeling with the baby and using the scar cream? Is it helping at all?” Chopper asks, looking up at you in concern.

“I’m doing fine, Chopper, I promise. And the scar cream helps dull the pain like you said it would. A true doctor sticking to his word.” You smiled at him, causing him to blush.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me!”

Letting out a giggle, you look out to the setting sun. “How about we go eat, huh? I’m sure Sanji has food prepared for all of us.”

“Okay!”

With a bit of Chopper's help, you managed to get up from the floor. Taking his hoof in your hand, you walk side by side, both of your shadows hitting the ship's walls. The delicious smell of Sanji’s cooking causes your tummy to rumble. Hopefully, the taste of his cooking will block out the gut-wrenching feeling of doom lingering in the air.

Laughter rang throughout the air despite the tension that surrounded everyone. The impending knowledge of Kidd’s arrival was suffocating. When it would happen was anyone's guess. Robin was on guard at the moment, and with the seas and skies dark, it was almost impossible to see anything outside. Let alone another ship. No moon to light the vast seas. Only stars that were far away for any significance.

“(Y/N), here is that shake you wanted!”

“Oh, thank you, Sanji! That’s so kind of you.” You smile as you take a sip. As you swallow the cold mixture, the sunny always violently, as a loud boom rings throughout the dining room.

“What was that?!” Usopp yelled. Everyone began to rush out of the room. As soon as you go to check, Luffy stops you.

“Stay here. We don’t know if its the Marines or-”

“(Y/N)! Where are you, princess?”

Your blood runs cold as the horrific sound of Eustass’s voice echoes across the Sunny. The insanity inside his voice has the nightmares you endured by his hand flash before your eyes. The pain, the screaming, the blood, and the dark rushing through you.

Running to the window, you see darkness. No sign of the Victoria Punk or Kidd. Running to the other side, you only see the stars. You're sure you heard him. No doubt in your mind you did.

The door busted open, revealing Robin’s panicked face. “They’re here!” Soon, sounds of metal clanking against each other rang across the deck. Peering over Robin's shoulder, you saw flashes of blades and the two figures of Zoro and Killer.

As soon as Luffy sees it, he dashes past Robin and out onto the deck. “Stay here! Robin! Do not let anyone near her!” Robin nodded as he closed the door.

Hearing the battle outside you, your heart goes into overdrive as you hear, through all the violence, the telltale sign of Kidd’s boots hitting the wood of the deck.

Your eyes trail down to the dining room door, where the shadows of feet block some of the light. The smell of sake and metal fills your nose—the same sake that you’ve only ever seen one man drink.

BAM

The door to the dining room busts open. Dust spills into the air, making you and Robin cough. Looking in the direction of the now-open doorway, you make eye contact with the amber eyes that haunt your dreams every night.

“Kidd…” You whispered as you covered your mouth. 

Jumping in front of you, Robin stood between you and Kidd. She had a determined look on her face as the sound of his footsteps drew near. “(Y/N) Stay behind me!”

You watched as Robin crossed her arms, getting ready to attack. It felt as if the whole world had ceased to exist at that moment. The only soul left was the man smirking in front of you.

“Nico Robin, eh? Heh, too easy.” Kidd spoke, making your palms turn sweaty as a feeling of dread ate away at you. “I’ve had a lot of time to study you, Straw Hats.” A grin of insanity spread across Kidd’s face.

“Stay back! Don’t you dare move another inch if you want to keep your life!” Robin warns as you see her famous words on the tip of her tongue.

“(Y/N).” Kidd cooed to you. “You wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt, right? So be a good girl and walk over to me.”

“She’ll go nowhere with you!

Kidd’s eye twitched at Robin’s interruption. “(Y/N), you know what happens to people who try and take you away from me. Or do we need to have a repeat?”

Flashes of the night of Heat’s death flash before your eyes as you feel your blood run ice cold. Looking down at his hands, you see the same knife he had used to take Heat’s life. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could think rationally, the trauma of watching Heat’s passing hit you full force.

Pushing past Robin and moving in front of her, your eyes starting to create tears. “Please, no! Don’t hurt her! I’ll come with you! Just please don’t hurt her!”

“(Y/N)!”

“Good girl. I won’t hurt her since you decided to listen.” Kidd smirked and took a step forth.

“Demonnio Fleur!” With wide eyes, you watch as two arms sprout out by Kidd’s head. Both grabbed a part of his head.

Yet just as a slip of hope appeared, you gasped in horror as Kidd’s metal hand grabbed one of Robin’s false wrists, holding it in a tight grip. A sickening crack was heard, and you hear Robin cry out in pain. The limbs holding Kidd’s head disappear as Robin holds her wrist in pain.

Your arm is grabbed, and you're pulled to Kidd’s chest. It wasn’t even seconds later that a cold grip wrapped around your neck. Moving your hand to your neck, you feel cold metal encircling your throat. The feeling of your energy being drained had your inner alarms going off. 

Sea stone.

“Easy. Now, I don’t have to worry about you using that pesky devil fruit power of yours.” Kidd begins to drag you away despite your trying to pry his grip off you and activate your devil fruit powers. But you knew that you were too late; your mind had blocked it out when it all was going down.

Robin once more lifts her arms to invoke her devil fruit powers. “Demoni—” Lifting up his metal arm, he rushes at Robin and throws her into the wall. The sound of her crashing into the wall makes your stomach drop.

“Robin!” You cry as you try to come to her aid, only to be pulled out of the dining room and onto the deck of the Sunny.

Everywhere you looked, there was violence. Zoro and Killer’s blades caused sparks everywhere. Usopp snipped people from above as Sanji fought Wire. Everyone else seemed like a blur as if your world was burning down around you.

“Great. Now let’s go.” With a tight grip, Kidd begins to drag you to the back of the Sunny. There, you saw the Victoria Punk in its horrible glory. As you got closer, the memory of Tashigi’s voice rang in your ears.

“You said Tashigi was still alive! Prove to me you're not lying, and I’ll stop putting up a fight!” Clawing at Kidd’s grip, you try pulling yourself free. But with the sea stone collar, it was a losing battle.

“You’ll see her when we get on the boat. Now stop fighting, and let’s go!” Kidd’s grip tightened, causing you to whimper from the pain. “The longer we're here, princess, the more of your friends get to meet Heat’s fate.”

“No! Leave them alone!”

“Oh, I’ll leave them alone, alright. Right after you back to where you belong.” His tugs got harsher as he practically dragged you to the Victoria Punk. “Down where only I can see. Where you and our baby will be safe and never leave me again.”

His words brought you back to the cold cell you gave away three years of your life, too. Where you’ve been used and abused, even almost killed. The tally marks on the walls and the blood spot that reminds you of your amnesia. The small window that only gave you a sliver of life. It’s existence made to never let you go a day without thinking about it.

“No! I can’t go back! Please! Anywhere but there!” Cries of fear left your throat as you hit and kicked Kidd to try and free yourself. You wouldn’t go back down, and you sure as hell wouldn’t have your child growing up in the dark.

“Stop fighting, damnit!” Kidd’s grip went to your hair, making you yelp in pain. “Now let's go!”

Tears stream down your face as the burning in your scalp grew harsher. With a shaky voice, but at the top of your lungs, you scream. “Luffy!”

“Shut up (Y/N)! Don’t-”

CRASH

The grip on your hair disappeared as you watched Kidd go flying into some barrels. A familiar smell of rubber hit your nose as you felt an elastic arm wrapping around you. Your heart finally managed to calm only slightly as a familiar straw hat was in your peripheral vision.

“Luffy?” You spoke softly as you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you…”

A growl left Kidd’s lips as he stood up, and broken splinters of wood fell off him. His eyes met in Luffy’s direction, animalistic rage flashing in them. Cracking his knuckles, you watched him grit his teeth. “Straw hat.”

“Eustass Kidd.”

The tension was thick and heavy. Both boys emitted hatred for the other, one wanting to save while the other wanted to take.

“Bastard…you stole her from me. You took what's mine. You stole her from me.” 

“We saved her from you. There was nothing to steal.” The look in Luffy’s eyes was something you’ve never seen before—hatred and rage that burned brighter than the sun. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll call off your crew.”

“Not until every Straw Hat falls dead.” Your heart drops as you know Kidd planned to follow through with his threat. “I already took care of that annoying Nico Robin.”

“Liar! Robin wouldn’t lose to the likes of you!” Luffy’s words made your eyes water. While you didn’t know if Robin was alive or not, the fact he even threw her against the wall so violently was enough to flame the fire of your fears.

“(Y/N) stay behind me, go try to hide-”

“Don’t you dare move (Y/N). You don’t want Tashigi to die now, do you?” Kidd’s words made your blood freeze and body still. Even if you heard Tashigi’s voice earlier that day, who’s to say he didn’t kill her after the call? But what if he didn’t? What if she was still alive on the Victoria Punk?

“After I kill this bastard, we’ll save her too (Y/N)! Don’t let his tricks fool you!”

The arguments between Luffy and Kidd felt like hammers against your head. Everything was going on all at once, and it felt as if your brain was going to explode.

It seemed as if Luffy’s words finally broke Kidd because, without a word, Kidd makes his way towards Luffy. His metal arm winded back. A murderous look in his eyes.

“Luffy!” You warn, making him turn around, thankfully in time for him to move out of the way of the punch. He moves you back before pushing his straw hat more onto his head.

And just like that, he lunged into the fight.

Each fighter fighting for their own version of justice. A hero and villain’s final fight. Only one planning to leave alive. 

The crashing sounds of bodies being thrown into objects and the crunching of metal were deafening. Tunnel vision overclaimed everyone in the vicinity. All having a goal that they needed to reach. All the way they came and all they’ve fought for proving itself tonight.

Their footsteps on the wooden deck sounded like thunder, each one loud enough to stop your heart. One step meant one step closer to victory—a victory that’s been fought for almost three years.

Words were spoken on both sides, but neither you could understand. The only thing you could understand was the beating of your own heart in your ears. None of the screams, clashing blades, or footsteps broke out of your trance.

“(Y/N)!” A cold metal arm wraps around you as the smell of cola hits your nose.

Turning your head up, you see Franky grabbing you, a little roughed up but otherwise fine. “Franky?!”

“Don’t worry (Y/N); Luffy’s got this! But for now, we gotta get you somewhere safe.” As you were beginning to move, Franky suddenly stopped.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Kidd’s voice boomed. Once again, the crinkling and crunching of metal could be heard, but so could grunts of pain.

As you look at Franky, you look on in horror as his arms seem to be shrinking in on themselves and shaking violently. Right then and there, you are reminded exactly how devastating Kidd’s devil fruit powers really were.

A snap could be heard echoing on the deck as a part of Franky’s arm flew across the battlefield only to hit Luffy and knock him off his feet momentarily. You scream on in horror as you get an up-close seat to your friend's unwilling amputation.

“Franky! Luffy!” You cried before you fell to the ground. Hitting the wooden deck beneath you. Despite being pregnant, you try your best to sit up only to go speechless as the sound of more crunching metal once again hits your ears. You stare at Franky with a queasy stomach and terror.

Different metal parts of Franky’s body were crunching and shrinking up on itself. That was what you could see. What about the metal on the inside you couldn’t?

Franky falls to his knees, clutching his stomach and chest. Without wasting a second, you move to his aid. Looking desperately for a way to help him.

“Franky! Oh my god! Don’t worry, you’ll be okay!” You stammer as you scan his body, trying to find some miracle button to stop his pain. But there was none.

Turning to Kidd, you see him continue fighting off Luffy, but you can see one of his hands twitching in Franky’s direction. You watch as Kidd balls his hands up in a fist in a quick motion. The second he does, Franky let out a scream of pain. 

“No! Kidd stop, please! You're hurting him!" You wail while panic surges through your body as Franky writhes in pain. “Stop it!”

“You want to save your pathetic metal friend?”

“Yes! Please just stop hurting him!”

“Get on the Victoria Punk.” Kidd’s voice left no room for negotiation. He looked at you with eyes that if you dared to defy it, it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Don’t listen to him (Y/N)!” Luffy exclaimed as he continued to punch and kick at Kidd’s defenses and attacks.

With the sea stone collar around your neck and the baby in your tummy, there was no way for you to fight. Not when you were so weak and vulnerable.

Biting your lip, you look down at the deck beneath you, globs of tears hitting the floor like a thud. “You promise? What if I come willingly, you’ll call of the rest of the Kidd pirates and stop hurting Franky?”

“No…(Y/N) don’t…”

“Don’t! I can beat him, I promise! I can save you!” A barrel flew into Luffy, cutting off his words and crashing into a wall. The sight made you cover your mouth.

“I promise, princess. I’ll call off my crew and leave the cyborg alone. As long as you take my hand and come to me, then we can board the Victoria Punk where you belong.” Out stretching his hand, Kidd gave you a grin that knew he had you right where he wanted you.

Your body and heart tried desperately to stay, but the fear and guilt of everything weighed down on you. The lives lost from his rampage. G-5’s death, Franky’s suffering, and the promise of Tashigi's life being spared if you went with him. But if you didn’t, then Franky and Tashigi would die. More people you cared about dead from his obsession.

With a trembling body and a heavy heart filled with grief, you force your feet to move. Your tears hit the deck beneath you as you got closer and closer. The moment you slowly feel the cold metal of his hand, a shiver runs down your spine.

His hand gripped your tightly as the smile of insanity returned to his lips.

“Good choice, princess.” Pulling you close, you hear him rally back his crew. You watch each pirate run back, wounds and blood on some as they made their way aboard their ship. Killer coming in last behind everyone else. 

“We’ve got our treasure. Now time to go.” With a smirk, Kidd began to lead you to the ship.

“Hey! You're not going anywhere with her!” Footsteps echo along the wooden deck, making you turn your head to see the rest of the Straw Hats rushing towards you.

“No! Stop!” You plead as you try to stop them. “Don’t…don’t come any closer.”

“(Y/N) what are you-”

“I’m sorry.” Tears fall from your face, drenching your shirt in teardrops. “Please forgive me for the trouble I’ve caused.”

Kidd began to lead you away towards the Victoria Punk. “Thank you for doing your best.” You whisper with a trembling lip. A forced smile spreading across your lips as you began to walk up the ramp.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to do this! We can save you!” Looking at them, you gently shake your head. With a quivering smile and blurry vision, you take a final stop aboard the Victoria Punk.

“It’s better this way. No one else will be hurt.”

Tears filled the Straw Hats' eyes as they saw you board the ship and the state of Franky. The overwhelming scene made their world spin as they tried to find the words to say.

As Kidd lifted up the Victoria Punk anchor, you spoke once more—the last thing you could ever say to them.

“Thank you for everything, but just some people can’t be saved.”

~~~

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