#the worst part is hes back on his cycle and is too comfortable now to get out

[nyxtheshipper]

I just came out of a five year relationship. Yes, five years. Five and a half almost six. The first five years we worked fine, then great, sometimes okay, but always good. We met in a private high school that was very prestigious. He didn't have a scholarship, I did, so imagine the disparity between his life and mine.

In the beginning it wasn't so obvious, he lived with his mom in a decent house, not too ostentatious, so our daily lives were kind of the same. He did his chores, helped his mom cook, cleaned the house or sometimes had someone to help them clean - something surprisingly common here in Mexico. My family also sometimes had someone to help us clean, but most of the time we cleaned our house ourselves. The point is, even if he clearly had money, he didn't flaunt it.

But you know what happened? Slowly, during college, during the pandemic, and when we moved cities to go to college after the pandemic, it started to show. The funny thing about school is that it's still a controlled environment, doesn't matter whether you're in college or already working while in college. We had it relatively easy. We knew our lives were here, right now, gearing towards graduation - towards the void that was being filled up by maybe an assured position thanks to the fact that the colleges were also private.

You can plan an entire life in school, dream about it, even play house. But the reality is harsh, and once you lose the structure, it's not playing anymore. The bubble pops.

That's when things get real. For a long time, my ex and I lived in that bubble. I was working and studying, trying to pay my bills while also keeping afloat my grades and a relationship. I kind of managed, but believed that it was gonna pay off once we finished and my ex and I were finally going to live together and actually start our own lives. That's how you manage to stay sane with a lot of pressure on top of you.

It also helps to see that your ex is more down to Earth than you expect, having been born and raised in a life of privilege. He's also living alone, paying bills, but his family is the one that gives him the money, and it shows. It shows in your meals, in the dates he takes you to that you can't afford. And, honestly, you start sympathizing with those Hallmark/Kdrama girls that get everything from their rich love interest. It sucks.

And before you come for me about privilege, etc. I. Know. But also, what they don't show you and what I had to learn the hard way is the rules. Once that bubble pops, and you're presented with your partner's reality, you see the incredible amount of strings that that money has attached. And it fucking sucks! For a long time, being in college, away from our families, we were able to be ourselves, and in a traditional household, that is gold!

Mexican families are still so misogynistic with many many things. And I had the privilege to have a mom that doesn't take shit from the patriarchy, especially when my dad tries to enforce it, but my ex? The moment he stepped out of that bubble, he had to go back to the traditions. It didn't matter whether I had shown him that women are equals, that he didn't have to be the sole provider, or that I was teaching him that he's allowed to cry, to feel, to get angry, to just be!

The moment he stepped out of his bubble, he fell apart. Since I had moved to the same city as him during college, he was never truly alone. But now, having left the country for a semester, on the brink of graduating, he was truly for the first time ever alone. And he couldn't cope. He asked a lot from me, making me his whole world and expecting me to be there 24/7, and I didn't react kindly to that. We discussed - not fought, discussed - and we tried to reach agreements. For me, he was being too clingy, and I had my own problems and my own life to look after. I also saw the opportunity he was in as something amazing and to be taken advantage of, and that he needed to make friends desperately.

For him, it was the worst time of his life.

Did I know he was having SUCH a bad time? No. Why? Because, as is tradition in his particular socioeconomic circle, men are not allowed to show emotion. He could only be calm. Even when he told me he was tired, it was the same as a robot telling you they're tired.

He could not show anger, he could not show he was sad, hell, whenever we "fought" it was more like a business meeting of what steps we were going to take to not let the discussion happen again. Everything I had tried to show him, that he could express his feelings, of me asking him to show me he was angry instead of just telling me, all gone.

And today, we broke up. He broke up with me, more like, and he did it amicably. Without showing emotion, just telling me what he feels. As usual.

And that's not okay. Can you imagine someone breaking up with you as if you were business partners only? When I asked him one last time to be angry, to show emotion, he said it wasn't appropriate nor polite. And as much as it pisses me off, I can't blame him entirely.

He's 2 meters tall in a country where you are considered tall at 1.80. Of course many people have told him he's scary, especially when he gets mad, even his ex told him that.

There are many things wrong with today's culture here in Mexico, don't even get me started on the way his family started trying to put me into the stereotypical housewife box. But today, I saw something that hurt me more: a man who couldn't express his feelings, not even while breaking up a five year relationship, simply because it was deemed impolite and even scary if he expressed himself.

[ceoofyearning]

I only pray, don’t fall away from me

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The world feels like it’s falling apart around you, but Azriel finally comes home and helps you hold all the pieces together.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt and Comfort, depressive themes & thoughts, anxiety, nightmares, mentions of a minor character death (not the mc/reader) || please mind the tags.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this week was though so here’s a bit of a hurt & comfort fic; hope your days are kind to you guys xoxo

Links: Fic Masterlist | My Art

You’re so damn tired.

The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least. The healing house has been filled to the brim with the wounded and sick. Altercations with Beron’s soldiers by the border have been increasing at an alarming rate, while countless spies from the continent have been winnowed in after being caught by Koschei’s contingent forces. You can’t even begin to imagine the state of the civilians that might’ve been caught in the crossfire. 

There is tension in the air with the threat of the inevitable war looming on the horizon. It doesn’t help that the winter chill, in all of its foreboding fury, has come to ravage the lands and its people. You love your work as a healer, you really do. Some days, the thought of the good you do, the people you help, is enough to keep you going. But too often, it feels like a thankless job that leaves you drained to the core. 

In your free time, you’ve been parsing through ancient texts in search of information on Death Gods and anything that could be used against Koschei. His looming threat is a cloud of dread that hangs over everyone, especially Rhys. The least you could do is to help carry the burden. It’s not like you could sleep, anyway. These days it is as though your mind adamantly refuses to let you rest. At the very least, the task keeps you distracted when you’re stuck alone in your apartment. 

Ever since Azriel had been sent to the continent for a reconnaissance mission nearly a month ago, the apartment you share has started to feel a little too big, too desolate. Before you knew it, the white walls had been transmuted from your home into what felt like the bars of a cage. 

The two of you haven't been apart for so long since the mating bond snapped. You didn’t think you'd feel his absence as acutely as you did, but it felt like the loss of a limb where the wound refused to heal and you were already bleeding out. His part of the bond is blacked out completely, a devouring void where Azriel’s comforting presence should have been. It’s for your own safety, he said. But you can’t help it. You’re plagued with worry, with imagined hurts and tragedies, amplifying the brewing conflict in your mind. 

It is easier to catch yourself when Azriel is near. When the thoughts begin to swirl like a hurricane around you - winds whipping, oceans rising - it feels like Azriel’s arms are the only safe harbor you can rely on. But Azriel isn’t here now. 

What frustrates you most is that you’ve been better recently. You’ve been good. You ate your meals, slept reasonably, even had a goddamned routine set up. You guzzled down your tonics in hopes of smoothing out the edges of your frayed mind, that perhaps it could lend you some semblance of normalcy. But no. Weeks of being haunted by nightmares, of overextending yourself, of loss and suffering seeping under your skin day by day have taken its toll. 

You are just too damn tired. 

A child died, barely over thirteen years old. She was bastard-born, which meant she had nothing to her name other than the rags on her back and her birthright to suffer generational oppression and cruelty. This is the worst winter the Night Court has had in centuries, and she didn’t even have a decent roof over her head. Needless to say, she hadn’t been in the best health. But despite that, the moment her cycle had come, the men forced her to go through the clipping. In her struggle, the imbeciles accidentally nicked a vital artery. Normally, her Illyrian healing would’ve granted her a strong chance for survival, but she had been so sick, her body weakened by hours spent in the frigid cold. 

By the time you had been summoned to heal her, she no longer had the strength to recover. Numbness washed over you at the image of her unseeing eyes, the same shade as Azriel’s in the right light, trained toward the vast empty sky. You have a feeling it isn’t a sight you’d forget any time soon. 

You don’t know how long it’s been. The room is shrouded with a thick blanket of darkness, the only respite coming from the dwindling candlelight by your bedside. Only silence exists within these four walls, interrupted by the occasional patter of water leaking from the kitchen sink. You burrow deeper into the sheets, inhaling the trace of Azriel’s scent that still lingered like it would somehow quell this ache inside you. 

Despite spending most of the day bedbound, you’ve barely had any sleep. There is no respite to be found in the dreaming, only nightmares lying in wait. It seems your mind has a knack of bringing your worst fears. Azriel bruised, bloodied and utterly alone, lost, somewhere in the vastness of the continent, hazel eyes - his, then hers, then his again - glazing over, crimson seeping into the arid ground below. 

For the last few weeks, you’ve gathered your grief and worry like rocks to wear around your neck. Your body is heavy, the phantom weight sinking and settling within the marrow of your bones, refusing to leave. It feels like you could stay in this bed forever until you dissipate into nothing but sand, smoke and thought.

You managed to send out a request for the texts Rhys needed translated, but not much else. You’re thankful he directly portalled them on your worktable because you don’t think you could brave the journey to the library today. You don’t think you could do much of anything today, in all honesty. 

So there you lay, bundled up in a collection of blankets, at least three inches of cotton and down that never seem enough to warm you. A book rests in your hands, yet your eyes remain unfocused, not truly seeing the words.

You run your thumb over the crisp paper, knowledge older than you, older than this city and yet you couldn't even bring yourself to focus long enough to dissect their true meaning. Your will is liquid in your hands, slipping through the cracks in between your fingers. Accidentally, you tug too hard on a page and it tears easily beneath your touch. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve been horrified by what you’ve just done. But as you are now, it is difficult to care. 

That’s what you feel like at this moment, you realize. These past few weeks have left you feeling spent, worn out, paper thin. Absently, you stretch out your hand towards the candlelight, close enough to feel the warmth lick against your cool skin. The flame casts a brilliant silhouette around your shadowed hand. It’s a wonder why golden light doesn’t seep right through. 

That’s how Azriel finds you.

The front door of your apartment creeks open, letting in a flood of muted morning light. Your first instinct is to retreat beneath the covers to shield yourself. Azriel calls your name in the silence, worry permeating each syllable. No doubt, he is cataloging the mess your shared space had become in your unintentional neglect. 

You say nothing, wondering if you could just close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, anything to escape his scrutiny. A breath of relief escapes him when he finds you in bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you. 

The urge to curl tighter around yourself is strong. But he repeats your name and, as though he had cast a spell, you unspool before him, your muscles unwinding, one fiber at a time. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, voice painfully soft.

“Okay,” you croak out from beneath the blankets. 

Azriel gradually draws the sheets away from your body, giving you ample time to protest if you’d like. Then, he rests his hand on your shoulder. Unbidden, a shiver runs down your spine, followed by a stuttered breath. You don’t realize how much you missed his touch until his textured hand begins its soothing path up and down your back, his heat sinking into your skin. 

Shame washes over you despite the bone-deep comfort you find upon his gentle ministrations. You don’t want him to see you this way. Azriel deserves better, the voices in your head insist. He deserves a mate whose mind does not devour itself at every given opportunity, a mate who does not quake beneath the weight of the world and the idea of their own immortal existence.

As though detecting your train of thought, his shadows leave their preferred perch on his shoulders to pool around you instead. Tendrils of darkness brush away the tears on your face, while some thread through your hair like a gentle breeze. 

On the other hand, Azriel urges you to rest your head on his lap. He begins to run his hand through your hair, uncaring of how greasy and tangled it has become. Eventually, his voice pierces the silence, injecting warmth into the distance between you. He hums a tune you do not recognize, but you can't help but cling to each winding note like a lifeline. Azriel has always had a beautiful voice - depthless, silken and soothing. It feels like a privilege to hear the song that he normally reserves for his shadows.

You must’ve been a pitiful sight to behold, and yet Azriel never looks at you like you are. He always treats you like something to cherish, something to love, like you’re someone he’s spent lifetimes desperately waiting for and you’ve been entirely worth the wait. A traitorous part of you feels like you’ll never deserve it, this love.

Azriel must sense the hurricane of emotions waging a one-sided war in your head, despite the mental shields you adamantly keep up. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t brush off your worry with empty words and false promises. Instead, he simply says, “I love you.” 

He speaks it as though it is a fact like one would say that the sky is blue, and the grass is green, and the world would keep on turning in peteruity, orbiting the sun the same way you’ll continue to orbit around each other. His chapped lips ghost over your temple, murmuring your name like a plea, a prayer. 

“More than anything in this world,” he adds as he pulls you into his embrace. 

Your body is pliant for him, arms winding around his neck like that is where they’re meant to be. His arms wrap around your waist to hold you impossibly closer. Webbed wings stretch to curl around the two of you, creating a cocoon of darkness that keeps the rest of the world at bay. With your head resting on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat thudding in chorus with yours. 

“I love you too,” you reply after a long stretch of silence. “But sometimes I wish you could’ve had a better mate.” 

“There is no one better,” Azriel insists. “There is only you, my love; through light, through darkness, through whichever end. Only you.” And you feel the truth of his words as surely as the twinned beating of your hearts. Sometimes it’s hard to convince your traitorous mind that you could have this, that someone could love you so deeply despite having seen you at your worst. Azriel presses another kiss against your cheek, and despite yourself, you begin to believe his words.

You don’t know how long Azriel holds you like that, but it finally feels like a stretch of eternity you could bear.

“What can I do to help, love?” Azriel prompts, cupping your face in the cradle of his scarred palms - their texture, a familiar comfort. 

You turn over his question in your head for a few moments, savoring his scent, the sensation of his skin against your own. A part of you is tempted to ask him to lay beside you for the rest of the day, for a week, for an entire lifetime. You know Azriel would if you asked it of him. But beyond this room, the world continues its elliptical path around the sun and time still ticks on regardless of how disconnected you feel from your own reality. 

“A bath,” is all you manage to say.

Azriel nods, before reluctantly peeling himself from you. “Have you eaten?” 

“‘M not hungry,” you mumble as you sink back into the sheets, sighing as the comforter swallows you up. In truth, you can’t remember when your last meal had been. Hunger didn’t seem so pressing in the last few days.

“That’s not what I asked.” Azriel’s tone leaves no room for argument or negotiation. 

“No,” you finally answer, although with much trepidation. “Not yet.” 

He hums, clearly displeased, but says nothing else. You can already imagine the frown that must be stretching across his face. But it seems Azriel’s presence alone is enough to quieten your mind, at least for now. You must’ve been dead tired because it doesn’t take long for the rhythmic sound of Azriel's familiar footfalls to lull you into dreamless sleep.

"Love," Azriel whispers, his hand hovering over your shoulder, rousing you from your shallow slumber. You blink languidly until molten eyes come into focus. The candlelight flickers, and shadows dance across his face. Azriel’s normally sharp features are softened by the tenderness in his expression. You’ll never tire of waking to the sight of him. 

With a groan, you half-roll half-stumble out of bed. Azriel stays an arm’s length away in case you need him, but he’s careful not to crowd you. His shadows have no such reservations, however. The dark tendrils fretfully twine around your arms, making you smile. You thank them quietly, and for a moment, they seem to dance with delight. Regardless of your initial unsteadiness, you manage to pad all the way to the bathroom.

Upon crossing the threshold, the sweet scent of jasmine immediately overtakes your senses. The tub has already been filled up, steam rising from the sun-covered surface. You begin to unbutton your tunic, clumsy fingers tumbling through your first few attempts. Azriel steadies your hands with his firm grip, his shadows gently circling your wrists. 

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your tunic, and you nod, not wanting to think anymore. His movements are precise, almost clinical, while he undoes the first five buttons, before bunching the garment in his hands and pulling it over your head entirely. Your skin breaks out in gooseflesh once exposed to the cold air. Azriel is careful to keep his gaze on your face, even as you step out of your undergarments. 

Azriel only betrays his composure when he traces your cheekbone, like he can’t quite help himself. From this distance, you have to crane your neck to look up at him. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. The bond glows bright between you, the golden thread gleaming as though it hadn't spent the last few weeks completely stretched thin. 

But then, Azriel withdraws, tilting his head to the steaming tub. Obediently, you step into the water’s warm embrace, the heat nearly stinging your skin. Logically, however, you know it’s only because you’ve allowed yourself to stay in the cold for too long. 

A relieved sigh escapes you as you sink further into the tub. One of his shadows rushes to pillow your heavy head as it rests on the tub’s rim. You thank the sweet little thing, and swirls of black sway back and forth like a dog wagging its tail. Meanwhile, Azriel takes his place by the head of the tub, sitting back on his heels. 

“I’d like to wash your hair,” he says and you're touched by the earnest quality his voice takes. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You’ve never been good at denying Azriel anything, nor did you want to. The more the ice beneath your skin thaws, the more you find that you want him near. 

Azriel begins by running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he pours warm water over your head. With a pop of a bottle, the floral scent of shampoo fills the air. He lathers the substance on your head, his touch tender even as his fingers work through the knots in the strands, untangling them with care. 

After a while, he rinses off the suds and coats his hands with oil. He begins combing his fingers through your hair, starting from the ends and working his way up. The rhythmic motion of his fingers is calming as he draws circles against your scalp. You find yourself melting into the moment, feeling utterly content for the first time in what feels like a very long time. 

Once done, Azriel grabs a small towel and asks, “Do you want help washing?”

You shake your head, wanting to do this for yourself, at least. Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he spares you a soft smile. With that, Azriel leaves the towel by the tub and politely excuses himself from the room. With the door left slightly ajar, you could still hear him move around the apartment followed by the lyrical clinking of silverware against ceramic.

It takes you a few minutes to gather the energy to lather yourself with soap, and a few more to finally rise from the bath. But once the grime is off your skin, you feel a bit of the weight wash off with it too. You feel a bit more like yourself.

After drying off, you tug on the silk robe Azriel has left for you, securing it loosely around your waist. Upon exiting, you spy him by the dining table, scooping a generous serving of soup into a bowl. The mouthwatering aroma of rich broth wafts through the room, and you realize just how hungry you are when your stomach growls in protest. You approach him from behind, making sure that each step is audible.

Azriel continues to set up the table, but you can tell he’s aware of your presence from the way his shoulders seem to relax. The sudden urge to have him close is palpable, an instinct so deeply ingrained into your being. So,  gradually, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face on his back. You take a deep inhale, breathing him in - a lungful of moontime mist and cedarwood smoke. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you murmur against Azriel’s back, your voice muffled by his shirt. 

“I’m glad to be home,” he whispers. His hands abandon their task in favor of twining his fingers with your own. 

Azriel turns to face you and holds your face in his hands. Beneath the swathes of sunlight, his eyes are alight with golden flame, flecks of green scattered over his irises like an afterthought. There is nothing but love in his gaze, nothing but acceptance. 

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head so the words could kiss his lips, not quite touching but close. “For being here, for loving me, for choosing me, everyday.” 

“I will always choose you,” he vows, before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Today,” another peck on the tip of your nose; “Tomorrow,” one more on your cheek; “And all the days after,” he finishes with a chaste caress on your lips.

Then, he rests his forehead on yours, your bodies slotted against each other like a lock and its predestined key. In Azriel’s presence, you find it easier to breathe, easier to simply be. For the first time in a long time, your mind is clear and your heart beats in a calm, languid pace that matches his own.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you request, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel’s gaze is searching, scouring for any hint of anything short of absolute certainty. Perhaps you should tell him that in this world of constant change and chaos, he’s the only one you’re certain of.

Azriel must be satisfied with what he finds written across your features because he replies, “So kiss me then,” the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

You’re surprised to find that it’s easy to return the playful expression. Your rise to the tips of your toes while your fingers thread through his raven black hair. When your lips touch, it is as though the world breathes a sigh of relief. Reality realigns and everything outside the two of you and your shared breaths turns inconsequential. He moves against you with practiced ease, like the natural ebb and flow of the tide.

An eternity of this, you think, doesn’t seem so daunting after all. 

AN: i’m not sure if that was too much but thank you for reading 💙 As always, i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts

English isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please lmk thru dm! 💙

Also, I just wanted to yap about the Az fics im in the process of writing:

1. Vampire!Azriel x Reader (Working tittle: Ashes in my wake)

I just love the idea of cannibalism (or yk, blood drinking) as a metaphor for love in literature so here we are. ( @/annikin-im-panicin this is ur influence) This one is a bit of a dark fic (nothing too crazy tho, I think), so i’m not sure how it’ll be received. But the idea has been haunting me for yonks so I just had to write it.

2. Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Lucien’s Best Friend!Reader (Working tittle: Drink dry the river Lethe)

This one is a multichapter fic (maybe 4-7 chapters, we’ll see) so it might take me a while before I start posting, but i’ve mostly finished writing the first (very smutty) and second (very angsty) chapter. I ‘m not entirely sure what direction to bring this yet but maybe you guys can help me decide?

Unrelated to Az, but i’ve been brainworming a poly dark-ish innocent!reader x Feysand fic, and a slightly less dark and more sappy(?) poly warrior!reader x royal!nessian fic. I’m so excited to start these but my pile of wips is giving me the stink eye 😂

[shycloudkitty]

You're too sweet for a monster like me

Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.

Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)

Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism

A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.

And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta. It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!

YTS Part -2

WC: 1.6K

Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.

One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.

And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.

Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.

At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.

But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.

When will this cycle end?

A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.

He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.

While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.

Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?

Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.

Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”

“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.

Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.

He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”

Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”

Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”

You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”

“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”

Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”

You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.

You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”

He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”

You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”

He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”

Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”

Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.

He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.

You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.

He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.

He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”

The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”

“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”

You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”

He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.

You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.

Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.

He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.

You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊

Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!

Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!

-Bella

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 15

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: unrequited love, angst, heartache...

A/N: A lot is said in this one lol not between bucky and her yet but you'll see lol. Also the flashbacks kinda tie into the chapters! The mike flashback will finish in the next chapter when her and bucky finally hash it out lmao

The city buzzed around you, but it all felt distant—like you were moving through a world that didn’t quite belong to you. Your feet carried you aimlessly, dodging crowds and cars, your mind swirling with everything you’d just said to Bucky. Everything he’d done. Everything you’d felt for so long but couldn’t say out loud until tonight.

Eventually, you found yourself in a quieter part of the city. The hum of traffic and voices softened, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the occasional bark of a distant dog. You spotted a park bench under a flickering streetlight and sank onto it, your body heavy, your heart even heavier.

You sat there for a while, trying to steady your breathing, focusing on the cool air filling your lungs. In and out. In and out. But no matter how hard you tried, the tears wouldn’t stop. You wiped at them furiously, frustrated at how raw and exposed you felt.

You just don’t understand. Your brain can’t even begin to piece together how Bucky could do this. How have you been hurting him? You’ve been nothing but a great friend—loving him from the sidelines for so long. And now, when you finally have a chance at something outside of him, he crushes it.

A dark thought creeps in, twisting the knife further. Maybe, deep down, Bucky never truly was your friend. Maybe he secretly resents you because you could never do to him what he’s done to you. Maybe he hates you for making him feel something he can’t figure out how to handle.

But then another realization crashes over you, colder than the first. Have you been doing this to Steve the whole time? All these years, if what Bucky said is true—if Steve really is in love with you—oh god. Have you been breaking his heart, too?

The thought hits you like a freight train, leaving you breathless. Steve. You’ve been so consumed by your feelings for Bucky, by the endless cycle of longing and heartbreak, that you never stopped to consider the weight of your own actions. If what Bucky said was true, if Steve really had been in love with you all these years…

Your chest tightens as you think back to every lingering glance, every reassuring touch, every moment when Steve was there, steady and unwavering. He had always been your rock, the one person who could ground you when everything else fell apart. How many times had you leaned on him, venting about Bucky, crying on his shoulder, seeking comfort without a second thought?

And all the while, he was—what? Silently pining for you? Loving you in a way you never noticed because you were too busy looking at someone else?

The guilt settles in your stomach like a lead weight. What have I done to him?

You run a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling. Have I been doing to Steve exactly what Bucky’s doing to me? Leading him on, even if unintentionally? Letting him love you while you poured all your love into someone else?

It’s too much. Your thoughts spiral, memories flashing like scenes from a movie. Steve’s quiet smiles, the way he always showed up when you needed him, the way he seemed to know you better than anyone else. How could you have been so blind?

But then your mind snaps back to Bucky. Bucky. The thought of him twists the knife in your chest all over again. His words, his actions—they’re like a tangled web, one you can’t seem to escape. You replay the fight in your head, the way his blue eyes burned with frustration, with something deeper and more vulnerable hidden beneath the surface.

He said you hurt him. That you hurt Steve. That you think you’re the only one who’s been in pain. How could he say that to you?

But the worst part is, he wasn’t entirely wrong. You’ve been so consumed by your own heartbreak, by the years of loving Bucky in silence, that maybe you didn’t see the ways you’ve hurt the people around you. Maybe you were so focused on surviving your own pain that you ignored theirs.

Your tears blur your vision as you stare at the empty park in front of you. What if Bucky’s right? What if you’ve been selfish this whole time? What if, despite everything, you’ve been blind to the way your actions ripple through the lives of the people you care about most?

You lean forward, elbows on your knees, and bury your face in your hands. The city feels impossibly big around you, like it could swallow you whole. The weight of your thoughts presses down on you, suffocating in its intensity.

But there’s one thought that refuses to let go: Why does it feel like everything you touch falls apart?

You’ve spent so many years loving Bucky, holding onto a hope that maybe, someday, he’d see you the way you see him. And now? Now you’re not even sure what any of it means anymore. The fight, the hurt, the years of unspoken feelings—they’re all crashing down around you, and you don’t know how to make sense of it.

And Steve. Sweet, dependable Steve. You think about the way he looked at you earlier, his eyes filled with something you now recognize as quiet resignation. How long has he been carrying that? How long has he been holding onto a love he knew you couldn’t return?

A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill over, but you blink them back, your hands clenching into fists. You’ve been selfish. Blind. And now it’s all unraveling.

The night stretches on, cold and unyielding, as you sit there, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your relationships. You feel like a puzzle with missing pieces, and you’re not sure how to put yourself back together. Or if you even can.

You didn’t even flinch when someone sat beside you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Because of course, it was Steve.

It was always Steve.

He didn’t say anything, just sat there, his broad frame a steady, comforting presence. You could feel his eyes on you, filled with quiet concern, but he didn’t push you to speak. He just waited.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally wiped at your cheeks one last time, sniffling softly as you turned to face him. The weight of everything Bucky had said still lingered, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“Is it true?”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly. “What?”

You held his gaze, searching his face for any sign of denial. But he only looked confused until you asked again, this time without words. Just a look, one that carried all the weight of Bucky’s earlier confession.

Steve’s face softened, his shoulders sagging slightly as he let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t look away, didn’t try to deflect or change the subject. He just nodded, his voice low and steady.

“Yes.”

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You blinked at him, trying to process what that single word meant, what it changed.

“How long?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve gave you a sad, almost apologetic smile. “Since high school,” he admitted. “Maybe even longer.”

Your heart ached, the weight of his words settling over you. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Steve looked down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting slightly. “Because I saw how you looked at him. And as much as it hurt, I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.” He paused, his voice softening further. “You’ve always been happiest when you’re with him.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. All the moments you’d shared with Steve over the years—the lingering glances, the quiet support, the unwavering presence—it all made sense now. “Steve…”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not telling you this to make things harder. I just… I wanted you to know the truth. You deserve that much.”

The tears threatened to fall again, but you swallowed them back. “You’re such a good friend, Steve,” you whispered.

He nodded, his smile bittersweet. “Yeah. I’ll always be that, no matter what.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of the conversation settling between you. But despite the heaviness, there was a sense of clarity—a new understanding of the bond you shared.

Steve sat quietly beside you, the weight of your conversation pressing heavily between you. The hum of the city seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of crickets. After a long stretch of silence, he took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his cautious gaze. “Yeah, of course” you said softly.

Steve hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was bracing himself. “Do you think… you could ever love me? More than a friend, I mean?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You froze, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. It wasn’t unexpected, not after everything Bucky had said and the way Steve had just confessed his feelings. But hearing it out loud was different. It made it real.

For a moment, you didn’t answer, your mind racing. You thought back to all the times Steve had been there for you, all the quiet moments you’d shared, the safety and comfort he provided. You thought about how easy it would be to fall for him—to love someone as steady and kind as Steve.

And maybe… maybe you could have. Before the last couple of weeks, before everything with Bucky had come to a head. There was a time when things weren’t so complicated, and you might have let yourself feel more for Steve. But now?

Now your heart was a tangled mess of longing and pain, and you couldn’t see past Bucky.

You exhaled shakily, your voice breaking. “I don’t think I can,” you admitted, tears pricking at your eyes. “Not now. Maybe… maybe once, I could have. But everything’s different now.”

Steve’s face didn’t change much, but the way his shoulders sagged slightly told you he’d braced himself for this. “I see,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with sadness.

Your chest tightened painfully. “I’m sorry, Steve. You have no idea how much I wish I could. It would make everything so much easier.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you buried your face in your hands. “You deserve so much better than this, better than me,” you choked out. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart.”

Steve reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near your shoulder. “Hey, don’t—”

But you pulled away, shaking your head. “Please don’t, Steve. I can’t let you do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t let you be the one to pick me up when I’m falling apart. Not like this.”

His hand dropped, and he swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “I get it.”

You both sat in silence again, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you. Steve was always the one who stayed, the one who tried to make everything okay. But now, you’d drawn a line, and it felt like a small piece of your heart broke just from doing it.

“I’ll still be here,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm. “Whenever you’re ready, however you need me. That doesn’t change.”

You nodded, the tears still falling. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything. You’ve always been too good to me, i've never deserved this, i never deserved you”

Steve gave you a small, bittersweet smile, “You deserve the world” and you could see the depth of his love in his eyes. Even now, even when it hurt, he was still there. And that was what made it all so much harder.

Steve sat beside you, silent, the weight of your shared history and unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the cool night air. You’d both said so much, yet there was still an ache between you, a lingering sense that this moment wasn’t finished.

After a few moments, Steve reached into his jacket pocket, his hand hesitating before he pulled out a small, familiar object. The soft glow of the nearby street lights reflected off the delicate gold of the locket, the one you’d seen weeks ago at the farmers market, the one that reminded you so much of the one your mother gave you, and hers before that, the one you carelessly lost at that stupid party. He turned it over in his fingers for a moment, his expression unreadable, before holding it out to you.

Your breath hitched as you recognized it immediately. “Steve…”

He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “I’ve been holding onto this for a while,” he said softly. “I wasn’t sure when the right time would be, or if there even would be a right time.”

You stared at the locket, your heart twisting painfully. “You bought it?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded. “I saw how much it reminded you of what you loss, when i brought it home to exam in i opened it up” he paused opening it up and your heart stopped, your grandma's note “The lady said her daughter found it at some party and thought she could make some money at the market”

Steve’s words lingered in the cool night air as he handed the locket to you, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. The warmth of his touch, so brief yet grounding, contrasted sharply with the whirlwind of emotions surging through you.

You took the locket gingerly, your eyes wide, the gold chain glinting in the soft glow of the streetlights. Your fingers traced the familiar curves and edges as though to confirm it was real. You opened it carefully, your breath catching when you saw the tiny, worn note tucked inside—the same one your grandmother had written years ago. You traced the intricate design, your mind flashing back to the day you’d first seen it, the quiet hope you’d felt, and the weight of everything that had happened since.

Tears blurred your vision. “Steve… I can’t believe this.” Your voice wavered, thick with emotion. “You didnt even know if was the one i lost, i didnt even, why would you—”

He shrugged, his smile soft, tinged with the kind of quiet understanding that only Steve could give. “I saw the way you looked at it and even i knew it was the one you lost, i just figured it could help give you a little piece of what the original one meant to you. I got lucky, when i opened it and saw that" He's gestured to your great grandma's note, "I thought, maybe—just maybe—it was meant to find its way back to you.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this,” you whispered, clutching the locket tightly. “I was so careless, and I thought I lost this forever.”

Steve leaned back slightly, his hands now resting on his knees as he looked at you with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. “You didn’t lose it forever,” he said gently. “It found its way back. Just like it was suppose to. I just… I wanted to make sure it did.”

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of everything—your fight with Bucky, your complicated feelings for Steve, the memories of your mother—all pressing down on you at once. “Steve…” you started, but your words faltered as you searched for the right thing to say, the gratitude and guilt tangling inside you.

He seemed to sense your struggle, his eyes softening even further. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to have it back.”

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that allowed you to think, to breathe, to feel. You closed the locket carefully, holding it against your chest. The cool metal pressed against your skin, a small but powerful reminder of everything you’d lost and found.

Steve’s voice broke the silence, low and full of emotion. “I know it’s not my place to fix things or to make things easier for you. But… I wanted you to know that I see you. I always have.”

“Steve,” you said again, your voice a broken whisper. “You’re… you’re too good.”

He shook his head, his eyes glistening. “No. I’m just someone who loves you, in whatever way you’ll let me.”

That broke you. A sob escaped your lips, and you covered your mouth, trying to hold yourself together. But the tears kept coming, and Steve just watched, his own eyes brimming with unshed emotion.

After a moment, you managed to look up at him, your voice barely audible. “I wish I could love you the way you deserve.”

Steve smiled gently, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. “And it’s okay.”

You held the locket to your chest, as if it could somehow steady the storm inside you. “You’ve always been there for me,” you whispered. “Always. And I’ve never deserved it.”

Steve reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “You don’t have to deserve love,” he said softly. “You just have to let yourself feel it.”

You both sat there for a while longer, the world around you blurring into the background. Finally, Steve stood, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Come on,” he said, his voice steady. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded, slipping the locket around your neck, feeling its weight settle against your heart. It was a piece of him, a piece of everything you shared, and it would stay with you, no matter where life took you next.

As you walked beside him, the silence between you was full of understanding. It wasn’t the ending either of you had imagined, but it was a moment of truth, a quiet acknowledgment of what had always been there and what might never be.

Summer

The sun was high, casting its golden rays over the park as laughter echoed through the wide-open fields. It was one of those rare Saturdays where everyone’s schedules aligned, and the entire group had decided to spend the day outside.

Sam had commandeered the grill, expertly flipping burgers with a pair of tongs in one hand and a beer in the other. “I’m telling you, my secret seasoning is gonna blow your minds,” he bragged, tossing a wink over his shoulder.

Natasha smirked from her spot on a picnic blanket, her sunglasses perched on her nose. “Your secret seasoning better be more than just salt and pepper, Wilson,” she shot back, taking a sip from her drink.

Wanda giggled, her legs stretched out in front of her as she picked at a bag of chips. “Sam’s been talking about his ‘grilling skills’ all week. It better be good, or we’re ordering pizza.”

“You wound me,” Sam said dramatically, clutching his chest.

Steve stood nearby, setting up a game of cornhole with Bucky. “Alright, who’s teaming up?” Steve asked, holding up the bean bags. His eyes flicked to you for a second longer than necessary before he quickly looked away.

“I’m with Nat,” Wanda chimed in, grinning as she elbowed Natasha. “We’re unbeatable.”

Natasha nodded confidently. “Damn right we are.”

Steve turned to you and Bucky. “Guess it’s us versus you two.”

You raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who was leaning lazily against a tree, sipping from his bottle of beer. “Think you can keep up, Barnes?”

He smirked, pushing off the tree to stand beside you. “I think the real question is, can you?”

The game started off competitive, with Sam and Steve shouting exaggerated encouragement from the sidelines. “Aim for the hole, Buck!” Steve yelled, laughing when Bucky glared at him after missing.

“Oh, brilliant advice, Captain Obvious,” Bucky muttered, his cheeks tinged pink. He turned to you, leaning in. “You got this, right? Show ‘em how it’s done.”

You laughed, tossing your bean bag and landing a perfect shot. “Boom,” you said, giving Bucky a playful nudge. “That’s how it’s done.”

Bucky grinned, holding up his hand for a high five. “We make a good team,” he said, his voice softer, his blue eyes twinkling.

Natasha, ever observant, raised an eyebrow behind her sunglasses but said nothing, nudging Wanda when Bucky wasn’t looking.

By the time lunch rolled around, everyone was sprawled out on the blankets, full of Sam’s surprisingly good burgers and Wanda’s homemade cookies. Steve sat cross-legged next to you, while Bucky leaned back on his elbows on your other side.

Natasha watched the scene unfold, a small smile playing on her lips. She caught Steve stealing a glance at you when you weren’t looking, and her smile faltered slightly, her fingers toying with the edge of her cup. Wanda noticed and gave her a reassuring nudge, mouthing, You okay?

Natasha nodded, brushing it off. She wasn’t about to ruin the moment.

“Alright,” Sam said, clapping his hands together. “Who’s up for some frisbee?”

Steve stood immediately. “I’m in.”

“Same,” you said, hopping up and pulling Bucky along with you. “Come on, let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

Bucky groaned but let you drag him to his feet. “I’ll show you sweetheart.’”

Natasha and Wanda stayed behind on the blanket, content to watch as you all ran around like kids. Wanda sighed happily. “This is nice,” she said, leaning back on her hands. “Feels like we haven’t done this in forever.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes following Steve as he ran after the frisbee. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice a little distant. “It’s perfect.”

Wanda glanced at her, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re still not gonna tell him?”

Natasha shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s not the right time.”

Wanda sighed but didn’t push. Instead, she watched as Steve tossed the frisbee to you, his face lighting up when you caught it with ease, your laughter ringing out. Bucky cheered you on, his arm slinging around your shoulders for a brief moment, and Wanda couldn’t help but notice the way Steve’s smile faltered, just for a second.

Despite the complicated dynamics, the love and friendship within the group were undeniable. It was in the way Sam teased everyone mercilessly but was the first to help when needed. In the way Natasha always had a sarcastic quip but fiercely defended her friends. In the way Wanda’s quiet warmth balanced out everyone’s chaos. And in the way Steve and Bucky—despite everything—always had each other’s backs. And in the way you were the glue always keeping everything and everyone together.

The afternoon faded into a golden sunset, and as you all sat together, sharing stories and laughs, it felt like nothing could break the bond you all shared.

For now, at least.

The alley was dimly lit, the only light coming from a flickering streetlamp. Bucky stormed out of the bar, his jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides. The cool night air did little to calm the fire raging inside him. He barely made it a block before he heard the familiar sound of heels clicking rapidly behind him.

“Bucky Barnes, stop right there!” Natasha’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the city.

He barely had time to turn before she grabbed his arm and shoved him against the rough brick wall of the alley, her hands pressing firmly against his chest.

“What the hell, Nat?!” Bucky snapped, but she wasn’t having it.

“No, you don’t get to talk right now!” she shot back, her green eyes blazing. “I am so sick of this, Bucky! So sick of you and her dancing around each other like you’ve got all the time in the world!”

Bucky’s mouth opened, but Natasha cut him off with a furious glare.

“You love her,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’ve always loved her. And she’s loved you since before any of us even knew what love was! But you’re both so goddamn stubborn, so scared, that you’re wasting your lives.”

“Natasha, you don’t—” Bucky tried, but she jabbed a finger into his chest, stopping him cold.

“Shut up, Bucky! Just shut up and listen for once!” She stepped back, running a hand through her hair. “We’re all in our mid-twenties now. We’re not kids anymore. You and her? You were supposed to set the tone for love. You were supposed to show the rest of us that it’s worth it, that it’s real. But instead, you’re both stuck in this endless loop of fear and self-sabotage.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, his eyes flickering with guilt. “Nat, it’s not that simple…”

“Bullshit!” she shouted, her voice echoing in the narrow alley. “It is that simple! You’re scared. You’ve always been scared. But guess what? So is she! And you know what else? You’re not just hurting yourselves—you’re hurting everyone around you.”

She took a shaky breath, her voice lowering but no less intense. “Steve’s been in love with her for years, and it’s killing him. And me?” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve been in love with Steve since high school, Bucky. But do you think he’ll even look at me the way he looks at her? No. Because he’s stuck, just like you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in shock, but Natasha wasn’t done.

“I’ve been waiting, Bucky. Waiting for Steve to see me, to love me the way he loves her. But he can’t, because you and her keep dragging this out, making it impossible for any of us to move on! And god if i told her..”

Her voice cracked, and for the first time, her anger gave way to raw vulnerability. “I can’t do it anymore, Bucky. I can’t keep watching the two people I love most in the world destroy themselves and everyone else around them.”

Bucky looked down, his heart pounding. The weight of Natasha’s words hit him like a freight train. “Natasha, I…”

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “You need to tell her, Bucky. Tell her you love her. Stop running, stop hiding, and stop making excuses. She deserves to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And if you can’t do it for yourselves, then do it for the rest of us, do it for me Bucky” she pleaded

Bucky swallowed hard, his hands clenching at his sides. “What if… what if I’m too late?”

Natasha sighed, her anger softening as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then at least you’ll know you tried. But you won’t be too late, Bucky. She’s been waiting for you her whole life.”

She pulled back, her eyes searching his. “But this? This has to end, tonight. Go to her. Fix this. And maybe, just maybe, the rest of us can start to heal too.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his chest tight. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll do more than try,” Natasha said firmly, stepping back and crossing her arms. “Now go. Before I change my mind and punch you again.”

Bucky gave her a small, appreciative nod before he opened his mouth “Does anyone else know?” He asked, referring to her confession about Steve.

Natasha smiled sadly and said “Wanda”

College

It was one of those golden autumn afternoons, the kind where the campus was bathed in soft, honeyed light, and the air carried the faintest chill. You sat cross-legged on the quad, a pile of books spread out in front of you. The vibrant reds and oranges of the trees framed you like a painting, the wind occasionally tugging at your hair and making it dance in the sunlight.

Steve watched from a distance, leaning against a tree with a sketchbook balanced on his lap. His pencil hovered over the page, but he hadn’t drawn a single line in minutes. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you.

You were laughing, your head thrown back as Bucky said something undoubtedly ridiculous. Steve couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He could see the way your eyes lit up, how you leaned in closer to Bucky as if the rest of the world had melted away. The way Bucky looked at you—grinning, but with an ease that Steve envied—made Steve’s chest tighten.

“You’re staring again,” Natasha’s voice broke through his thoughts, jolting him back to reality. She plopped down beside him, her sharp gaze cutting right through his defenses. “Not a good look, Rogers.”

Steve sighed, lowering his pencil. “I’m just—”

“Sketching,” she interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Sure.”

He didn’t argue. There was no point. Natasha had known for a long time—probably since the day the three of you met her. She was good at reading people, and Steve was an open book when it came to you.

“She doesn’t see it, you know,” Natasha said after a beat, her tone softer now.

Steve glanced at her, his jaw tightening. “Doesn’t see what?”

Natasha gave him a look, one that said she wasn’t going to let him play dumb. “You. The way you look at her like she’s the only thing that matters.”

Steve let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, does it? She only has eyes for Bucky.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back on her hands. “And Bucky… Bucky’s too blind to realize what he’s got right in front of him.”

Steve’s eyes flicked back to you. You had your hand on Bucky’s arm now, laughing at whatever joke he’d just made. Bucky, for his part, seemed blissfully unaware of the way your touch lingered just a second too long, the way your eyes softened when they met his.

Steve felt a pang of something between longing and resignation. “I just want her to be happy.”

“And what about your happiness?” Natasha asked, her voice low.

Steve didn’t answer. Instead, he flipped the page of his sketchbook, finally putting pencil to paper. He didn’t need to look up to draw you; your image was already burned into his memory. Every line of your face, every curve of your smile, every glint in your eyes.

“Maybe some people aren’t meant to have that kind of happiness,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Natasha.

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. She reached out, giving his arm a light squeeze. “You’re a good guy, Steve. But you deserve more than being someone’s second choice.”

Steve didn’t respond, his focus locked on the sketch forming beneath his hand. But deep down, he knew she was right. He deserved more. He just wasn’t sure he could ever want anyone else the way he wanted you.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on Steve for a moment longer, her hand still resting on his arm. Her heart ached, not just for him, but for herself. She’d seen the way Steve looked at you for years, and every time, it chipped away at the small sliver of hope she held onto. Steve was kind, strong, and everything she wanted, but his heart belonged to you. It always had.

“Steve,” she said softly, almost hesitant. When he didn’t respond, she pulled her hand back, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the tree beside him. “You deserve someone who sees you.”

Steve’s pencil paused, his hand hovering over the sketch. He glanced at her, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. But then his gaze shifted back to you, and Natasha felt her chest tighten.

The sound of your laugh carried across the quad again, pulling both their attention back to you. You looked so radiant, so alive, and so hopelessly, irretrievably in love with Bucky.

And Steve? Steve would keep loving you silently, from the sidelines, even if it tore him apart.

Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile. She’d keep loving Steve the same way, even if he never looked at her the way he looked at you.

[markresonates]

two hot

summary: for some reason, your body requires more than one alpha to satiate your needs in heat, leading Mark to seek assistance from his best friend when you unexpectedly start going into heat in public.

pairing: alpha bf!Mark x omega!fem reader x alpha!Haechan

other: alphas Jen & Jis lil voy

genre/trope: porn w/ lil plot, tiny fluff bc i'm soft; omegaverse, fake medical conditions as a plot device; (eventual poly, not jealous love tri)

word count: 8.8k

a/n: so here's that markhyuck omega heat sex threesome idea i mentioned a while ago...per usual, it’s longer than i said why am i the way i am so i’m splitting it into 2 pts!

warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), cock warming, manhandling, exhibitionism & extremely public, voyeurism, humiliation, lil dumbification, overstimulation, degradation & praise, spitting, stomach bulge, cum inflation, knotting, oral fixation reader, breeding & creampie kinks; sweet hard dom Mark & hard dom Haechan, super sub reader [ note – heat sex is categorized as dubcon; therefore, read at your own discretion ]

You thought you had more time. You should have had more time. 

About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.

it’s official: life fucking hates you. 

Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat. 

Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.

While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.

Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay? 

You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on. 

You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality. 

Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”

“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.

He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”

“uh, well…” 

You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.

This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.

It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.

Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat. 

And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you. 

Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.

Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.

“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”

Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”

Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong. 

“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”

“Wha- Really!?” 

“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”

“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.

Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega. 

Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.

For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.

Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one. 

You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps. 

You need Mark. 

Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.

You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you. 

Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”

Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”

“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended. 

If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.

The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking. 

He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.

Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.  

“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs. 

Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha. 

You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls. 

They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief. 

“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas. 

Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”

“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.” 

Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.” 

You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”

Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”

“A half hour?” 

You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.

“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?” 

“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to. 

You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.

As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.

Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”

“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 

You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”

“What do you mean?”

Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.

You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger. 

Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties. 

You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude. 

You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.

Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least. 

You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action. 

“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”

Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”

You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt. 

Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat. 

You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas. 

They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups. 

Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring. 

During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours. 

“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze. 

“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”

Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good. 

“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”

“Um, thank you. I think, uh…” 

Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself. 

You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture. 

“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.” 

You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has. 

Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.

You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building. 

Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega. 

You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.

That’s basic alpha 101.

Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked. 

If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.

To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture. 

On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants. 

He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?” 

You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles. 

Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha. 

He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit. 

Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.

Mark…

You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you. 

You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you. 

You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker. 

“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”

You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs. 

“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”

He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground. 

“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.

You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega. 

You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.

Mark knows all of this.

He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.

“Why are you even-?” 

You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.

“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.” 

The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.

“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”

“Oh,” you reply, dumbly. 

You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.

“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips. 

Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return. 

“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”

“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”

“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”

Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain. 

Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone. 

He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words. 

You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts. 

“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”

There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg. 

Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.

“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”

Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again. 

“Sweetie, look at me.” 

You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill. 

“Do you want…” 

You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.

“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce. 

Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.

A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window. 

Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first. 

“y-yes, please.” 

Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”

His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth. 

He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward. 

Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon. 

The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn. 

You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.

Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.

“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”

You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”

“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”

Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.

“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.

“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.

Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine. 

He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.” 

You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”

Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.

“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever. 

“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?” 

You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright. 

The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest. 

You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything. 

“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth. 

Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing. 

Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.

Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.

“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.

“Oh, baby…c’mere.”

Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend. 

“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.

“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.” 

He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever. 

It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out. 

He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully. 

Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.

You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids. 

Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings. 

He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh. 

“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.

“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time. 

You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation. 

A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan. 

“More…please.”

The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.

Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock. 

As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.

“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants. 

“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going on up there in that pretty little head of yours?” 

He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.

You smile, shy and small,  and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”

One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly. 

“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”

With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow. 

You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.

“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”

“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”

Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard. 

He savors every second he gets to be your alpha. 

Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.

 You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside. 

Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely. 

Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.

Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess. 

You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.

Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.

In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.

Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.” 

You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly. 

“She’s so pretty when she cries.”

“I know right?” 

Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies. 

“So, how’s she been?”

“Well, she-”

“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.

“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?” 

“I’m…hot.”

“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.

“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.

“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead. 

“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?” 

You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid. 

“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.” 

He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”

“But Mark-” 

“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”

“Um, well, I-” 

You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.  

“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”

Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”

You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”

“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids. 

Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red. 

It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body. 

“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”

Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways. 

“W-worse?” you eke.

“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”

 “Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.

With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully. 

He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” 

A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip. 

Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud. 

Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.

“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.” 

A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.

“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…” 

Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank. 

If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.

“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?” 

Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”

You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.

Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face. In an effort to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. A handful of adoring pecks down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips. He is much gentler now than the hand responsible for the arousing sting to your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha on your mouth and grins anyway.

“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He again brushes a few stray tears away from where they spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”

“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself. 

Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes. 

“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.

“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?” 

You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.

“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.” 

“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”

Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?” 

An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha. 

Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.

“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.

Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.  

You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas. 

You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions. 

Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot. 

“There you go. Good girl.”

You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is. 

Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot. 

“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”

Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”

You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.

Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”

“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper. 

“Open your mouth, baby.” 

You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan. 

“You want Haechan’s spit too?”

You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate. 

He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.

You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out. 

Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy. 

“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”

[hint for pt 2]

additional warnings: dr jaem thorough exam, double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play and breast milking. alright, i think that's it.

it’s 2023.

why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.

sorry for not posting in forever. the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!

[oct 12th, 2024 update]

pt 2 is about 80% done. now, i'm not saying i WON'T post it in the next week, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up soon<3

okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))

stream 127's *FACT CHECK*

➾my masterlist

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[mountaesan]

crawling back to you ; h. taesan

pairing. ex!taesan x reader genre. angst . that’s it . synopsis. it’s been six months since you left , but time hasn’t dulled the ache of your absence in taesan’s life  word count. 1.2k warnings. taesan’s pov , mentions of a toxic relationship , alcohol consumption playlist. hozier’s cover of do i wanna know by arctic monkeys notes. I SWEAR IM USUALLY A DIE HARD FLUFF WRITER idk what’s come over me recently with all this angst 😞

The sky hung so low, it felt as if one could reach up and brush against the dense, dark clouds—if they were foolish enough to step outside in this weather. The wind howled, rattling the glass, while rain pounded against it like a relentless barrage of bullets. Taesan sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the storm beyond the window, his eyes glazed over from the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting at his side.

Absentmindedly, he toyed with the rings on his fingers, shifting slightly on the couch but never breaking his distant stare. The air in the room was thick, pressing down on him like an invisible weight. Somewhere beyond the thin walls of his empty, hollow apartment, his neighbor’s radio hummed—a muffled reminder of life continuing everywhere else. 

The whiskey burned his throat as Taesan took another swig, hoping it would dull the ache spreading through his chest, but it didn’t. His thoughts were slippery, wandering through the haze of alcohol and memory until they landed on you. 

What were you doing right now? Were you out drinking with friends, laughing as the world melted away under the glow of bar lights? Or were you home alone, curled up in the quiet comfort of your space, finding peace where he could not?

The worst though—the one that always cut the deepest—was whether you were with someone else. Someone who made you smile the way he used to. Someone who, perhaps, didn’t leave chaos in their wake. His jaw tightened, his fingers still fumbling with the cool metal of his rings as the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, worse than the whiskey.

Taesan could still see you so vividly in his mind. The way your energy clashed with his, creating something electric and impossible to contain. You were opposites in every sense of the word, like fire and gasoline locked in an endless cycle of destruction and reconciliation. He remembered the arguments—the screaming matches that echoed in his head hours after they were over. The slammed doors, shouted accusations, the sharp-edged words, the guilt and manipulation that neither of you could resist wielding when you felt cornered. If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could sometimes still the tears falling as easily as the venomous words.

But there was good, too. God, was there good.

He could still feel the ghost of your bare feet resting on the dashboard of his car, the way your hair caught the wind as you hummed softly to the song on the radio, completely unaware of how beautiful you looked in those fleeting, quiet moments. The sound of your soft laughs filled his head, blending perfectly with the memory of his hand resting on your thigh as he drove aimlessly, just happy to be next to you. He remembered your laughter as you both stumbled through the darkened streets, tipsy and invincible, and the world would shrink until it felt like it was just the two of you. 

It hasn’t been that long since you’d left—at least, not in his head. Time felt warped when it came to you. In reality, six months had passed. Six long, empty months since you had gathered your things in a haze of anger and tears and slammed the door on what was left of the two of you. The door closed so hard the walls shook, but what haunted Taesan more was the silence that followed. 

He hadn’t stopped you. He should have.

But some foolish, desperate part of him had clung to the hope that you’d come back. That you’d be halfway down the hall before you realized that you couldn’t leave him either, and burst back through the door, breathless and trembling, just as wrecked as he was. 

You never did. 

Now, Taesan saw you only in his dreams, where you never left. Where your smile still belonged to him and your laughter wrapped around his ribs like a vice.

Every night, you came to him like a ghost—soft and warm and devastatingly real. He’d dream of the way you used to tuck your face into the crook of his neck, your fingers tracing absentminded patterns against his skin. He’d feel the warmth of your body pressed against his and hear the sleepy lilt of your voice whispering his name in the silence. And every morning, when he woke up to the empty side of the bed, the loss of you hit him all over again. 

He ran a hand through his hair, the faint burn of whiskey in his throat doing nothing to ease the ache that lingered. His phone sat on the coffee table, too close for comfort but not close enough to reach without effort. His hands itched for it. The urge to call you, to hear your voice—even if it was laced with anger or indifference—pressed against his chest. 

He wondered if you ever felt the same pull. Did you ever stop yourself from calling him, from reaching out in a moment of weakness? On those nights when the drinks flowed too freely, did you crave the familiarity of his arms, the sound of his heartbeat as you rested against his chest? Because he did. Every night. Every damn day since you walked out. 

Taesan ran a hand down his face as he exhaled sharply, his other hand hovering over the whiskey bottle before curling into a fist. His body felt heavy, like it wasn’t his own anymore, weighed down by the gravity of what could have been—what once was. His heart ached with the weight of the dreams that refused to let him go, the memories that clung to him like second skin. He had spent every single night with you, even in your absence. And yet, when morning came, all he was left with was the empty space beside him.

He sat there, fingers drumming mindlessly against his thigh as his thoughts spiraled in endless loops. The storm outside had begun to ease, but inside, his mind was anything but calm. Memories of you wrapped around him like a chokehold—your voice, your laughter, the way your touch used to set him on fire. He hated how easily you still consumed him, how even in your absence, you never really left.

Through the thin walls of his apartment, the neighbor’s radio crackled to life again. Taesan sighed, running a hand through his hair. One of these days, he’d have to tell them to stop blasting music at ass o’clock at night. But then, the sound of a familiar melody bled into the quiet.

“Do I wanna know if this feeling goes both ways?”

The low, lazy drawl of the lyrics of Hozier’s cover of Arctic Monkeys’ “Do I Wanna Know” filled the air and the words sank into his skin, slithering through his veins like poison. His jaw clenched. The song served as a slap to the face, dragging his thoughts down a path he was trying so damn hard to avoid. It was ridiculous. It was pathetic.

And yet, as if possessed by something beyond himself, Taesan suddenly lurched forward, reaching for his phone before he could think twice.

His fingers hovered over the screen. His pulse pounded in his ears.

And then, before he could stop himself—before the rational part of him could intervene—he typed out a message, just as Hozier’s voice melted into the chorus.

taesan: hey, you awake?

“Crawling back to you…”

ᰋ liked this ? consider liking, reblogging, or providing feedback !

ᰋ want more ? send in an ask to be added to my taglist !

[i-yap]

What if you do angst x fluff? where Jason Todd fights with Y/n, had he just fought with Dick or something and he accidentally hurt his girlfriend? 👿 I like this dynamic, but I want it to be a real fight, you know? he enters a PSTD.

Im gonna do headcanons , warning( check the request)

Jason todd x y/n - he hurts her

out of all batboys he is most likely to lash out in aggression, by a landslide actually, especially fresh out the pit jason/ nightmare jason/ jealous jason.

He is also very very hard on himself about it.

Lets be honest here, this dude grew up on the streets , was trained to be a vigilante , got tortured, died, blah blah. He doesn't know how to control or regulate his emotions at all. He was never taught how to and the pit rage still is a part of him. He is really broken and so its very likely he lashes out

He is also very very insecure, he gets all in his head and he just cant control it and pushes people away.

You make him believe he can be better, that he deserves love and that you get what he is going through. Early on in the relationship he would just leave and not come back for weeks out of guilt.

once you convinced him to not leave and explained how much it hurt you, and once he explained how much at risk you could be but you accept the risk- after a very long discussion he learns to stay.

later on in the relationship he does overcome his insecurities and lashes out much less, so for him to actually physically lash out on you could only be one cause.

You betray him. He is either very jealous, maybe you have a childhood guy friend you refuse to leave. or maybe its a very hot coworker you refuse to stay away from in the name of professionalism. Or maybe jason just had an encounter with his past tormentors and they said something that got to him head and then he sees you laughing at the joke of your cute neighbour with the dog that likes you too much.

Now he is yelling and you're aggravating the situation. you had a bad day at work, and though you're usually calm and understanding , since you know what he has gone through, but you were just so annoyed that day or had a bad day yourself.

So when you start yelling back at him, he smashes a vase against the wall away from you. what he did not calculate was how the glass shard could fly and hit/scratch w2 you right in the arm. the second he sees you injured time stops

He crumbles, literally . crawls to you sobbing, hyperventilating - he might have a sezuire. this was his literal worst nightmare, and now its happened. you know he wasn't aiming the vase at you. you could either immediately realize or storm off and lock your bedroom, in the latter case he lies on the ground in front of the door the whole night sobbing out how sorry he is.

But if you comfort him and tell him its okay, he will just hold onto you and cry.

it takes him a while to forgive himself( a long while) so rough sex is gone, play fighting also gone. he goes silent , withdrawn almost depressed. You need to be patient, let him understand he didn't do it on purpose and this changes nothing in your relationship.

overtime things go back to normal, but he refuses to fight with you. He wont do it ever, he will leave , not for weeks but he will never put you to risk again. its like the cycle restarts and it takes him a while for him to trust himself around you when he's mad.

the thing here is, and stop reading the fic if you want to remain delulu (cuz I do too)

jason had a shitty past, he is not gonna be a perfect partner. he is going to be complicated and difficult to be with and you really cant expect anything else. it is very possible he straight up slaps you and then runs away to space for a month and then turns up on your doorsteps sobbing. He will often moan and cry about his past to you, bring it up often, often ruin the mood. He wont let you get a propers night sleep or let you have guy frnds and that an get annoying. ofcourse with love commitment and communication it could hcnage but you do at least for a while have to deal with that. No one expects you to clean up your lovers mess. this is only fiction and should not be romanticized. unless your irl partner died and was tortured for 2 yrs - you shouldn't deal with their shit. you have enough shit of your own to deal with

as a person who was with a guy who is depressed, I can tell you how hard this sort of relationship is. you sacrifice a lot. He developed depression one yr after we started dating, I left him 10 months after that. For 10 months I stayed with a guy who was cheating on me then calling em and crying about how "violated he felt" after consensually getting blojbs from random girls, randomly dissapearing for 4-5 days without a single text, who never wanted to talk anything about me not even for a minute, who couldn't listen to my problems but expected me to stay up 4 hours till like 6am even though I usually sleep at 11pm and then get up at 7am for practice. And I did it all, because he was depressed and I felt guilty about leaving him . But you need to prioritize yourself no matter how hot or broken a dude is. unlike jason, you can not "fix him".

[mayearies]

BAD HABIT miles g. morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY. miles can’t communicate. he has trouble recognizing his emotions, rio knows this. uncle aaron knows this. you don’t know this. you don’t really know anything is wrong, but you always wish him the best. but you can only wish upon the same star so many times until something changes. CONTENTS. miles being head-over-heels, mentioned break up, rio worrying for her son, uncle aaron being against the whole relationship thing, mentioned meeting his parents AUTHORS NOTE. haii i’m not back but ill feed you once every few months also format ib: luvjunie

rio .

mother knows best. we all know this. a mother knows when she sits on the couch and her 15-year-old sits next to her and starts going on about his girlfriend, how he’s everything she’s ever wanted that he’s in love.

but, a mother also knows her son. “miles, let me ask you something.” she sighed, “how much does she know about you? you tell me all these things about her, does she know the same?”

he paused, taking a soft breath, “i mean, no. but she doesn’t seem like she wants to know all that much.”

her brow creased, “if she’s dating you obviously she wants to know more about you. ¿de qué hablas?”

“yeah, i know, but she doesn’t really ask me.” his brows raised then creased a little.

confusion and concern.

“i’ll tell you one thing, girls tend to not say a lot of stuff that’s on their minds,” she cleared her throat, “they want you to tell them first. it takes a while for them to be comfortable with you.”

miles sighed and bit his cheek. now he was doubting you weren’t comfortable with him. you had only been dating a month.

“i just… want you opening up more. your uncle does too.” her voice turned softer. now miles felt a bit bad because he thought she was being unreasonable with the whole uncomfortable thing.

plus, uncle aaron knows he can’t open up like that to her. he barely has time for his hobbies because of this whole… prowler thing. so what the hell can he talk about? not to mention he can’t even talk to his mother about this because she doesn’t know that either.

“talk to her about comics-con!” miles groaned when she said that. “ma. no.”

rio pouted, “you gotta open up at some point, miles. i mean it.” she noticed one of his braids was slightly undone and braided it for him, “you’re like a shell now. i worry about you.”

miles kept quiet, after a bit he leaned on her shoulder and kept his eyes straight. “i know.”

they didn’t say anything else. rio knew miles knew already. he mumbled a ‘sorry’ and they left it at that with a kiss to his head. there wasn’t a point in talking anymore.

aaron .

“i’m tellin’ you, this isn’t gon’ work out well for you, man.” he warned, “someone’s gon’ end up getting hurt. both you, and her.”

“not like you liked her that much anyway.” miles muttered under his breath, sitting on the couch ans watching the news. just the same thing every week. sinister six this, sinister six that… god damn.

“i never said that, i just don’t want you making a mistake,” he huffed.

aaron was more rough around the edges than his mother, that’s for sure. he didn’t hate him but he was so serious sometimes for no reason. takes part in why he doesn’t talk about this stuff with him. not like he has a father figure to turn to anyway.

“how do you know i’ll make a mistake?” miles felt a bit more defensive now.

“because that’s how it goes—you fall in love, think everything is great, something goes wrong, everything crashes, you move on. it’s a cycle.” he paused before saying this next sentence. “how do you think your ma’s marriage went? think about it.”

miles softed a bit, but he was still a bit irritated. “you didn’t have to go that far.”

he knew that. but it was a perfect example of the worst thing that could have happened. miles sighed, sinking into the couch and turning off the tv. there was tension, and it filled the silence.

“you’re saying i shouldn’t be in love? it’s that bad to like someone?” he kept his eyes on the ceiling.

aaron sighed, finding a better approach to it. “be in love all you want. tell her all about you. your hobbies, what you like. you know how closed off you are, man.” he paused, “just… don’t tell her too much. don’t make a stupid mistake.”

“…alright.”

present day .

miles walked through the apartment door, looking the same as normal. but rio sensed something was off. “qué pasó?”

“nothing. hi, ma.” he kissed her forehead before walking off down the hallway. he didn’t really act like this. his mom could always tell the difference.

“how are you and your little girlfriend doing?” he chucked lightly, trying to make light.

“oh, uh… we broke up.” there was a long silence, “like, today.”

rio was not entirely surprised, but she couldn’t help but ask why. miles shrugged, not facing her.

“just because.”

@ MAYEARIES ‘24

[mysouleaten]

goodie love

kisaki x fem!reader

summary ... kisaki's great a delivering goodies to his girlfriend but... kisaki is awkward at cuddling..

warnings ... fluff, talking of period, period cramps, kisaki is trying his best, awkward boyfriend kisaki lol, lots and lots of fluff

an ... i knowww @amidalaspo you wanted me to try to lengthen up the one-shots a bit soo I tried, but I don't think I succeeded.. 😭 and I always wanted to write about this trope but never had the motivation lol

kisaki was coming back to his girlfriend's house bags filled with very unhealthy snacks that you have been craving..

it's day two of your menstrual cycle, the worst and best part in his opinion

the worst part was you being in lots of pain because of the cramps and having sometimes a loss of appetite.. but thankfully taking pills for the cramps brings your appetite back up--that's why he was buying you filling snacks--

and the best part of day two of your period week was that you always had your attention on him asking him dumb little questions and practically lazying around him

in general, you just wanted him to be by you for the ..first three-four days of your period

which he didn't mind he was always happy to be the center of your attention

pulling out the spare key to your house--your mother gave it to him and he would always be so smug about it..--

he stepped into the warm atmosphere of the house.. he will always admire you and your mother's taste in furniture and lighting

he always feels comfortable and inviting when he steps into your home[he'll make sure you'll be the one to decorate yours and his house when the two of you get married...]

he crouches to pet your dog who is also lazying by the front door before closing it and making sure it's locked and then turning around to walk in the direction where he hears a muffled sound of a movie being played behind his girlfriend's door

kisaki opens the door to see you huddling in your warm blankets and hallway asleep watching 'turning red' one of your favorite new disney movie

you turn your head to see kisaki standing by your open door with bags filled with the goodies you had asked him to get you

and from that sight alone you instantly woke up

"snacks! yay!" you give a gleeful smile

kisaki huffs "huh, no.. 'hello tetta' 'thank you tetta for being SUCH a good boyfriend' ? you're just going straight for the snacks?"

you roll your eyes playfully and sit up with a small wince--which kisaki frowns at--

"thank you soooo much tetta! for being such a good boyfriend and helping your girlfriend in need! your the best"

amused with your talk, he walks over to your best and sits don't next to you but places the bag between the two of you

"got you most of want you wanted, I couldn't find any dorayaki though.. someone had.. sold them all out.. for some odd reason.." kiaski mumbles

you pout at not having any dorayaki but then you smile and poke kisakis cheek "you're acting like you haven't done something like that before"

his face heats up at the gesture and moves his head away "it'll be the last time..too"

"ahh..tettaaa no! im sorry! here I'll even share some of my snacks with you" giving him a kissy face as you move over to lay your head against his shoulder and bring up a bag of gummies in front of his face and shake it gently

"hah? your snacks?" he turns his head back and recoils a bit from the closeness of your face to his--even dating for two years he's still nervous--

getting this silly love-struck smile on your face, leaning in closer to kisaki you kiss his warm cheek and lean back

"cmon I wanna keep watching my movie with you.. ill probably have to restart it now..."

kisaki was just staring off into space and then morphing his shocked expression into one of hopeless love

he then lays down next to you under the fluff blankets that smell like your perfumes and he peacefully lays there with you

his body stiffens at the impact of your head lying on his chest and he hears a faint giggling coming from you

he lets out a breath and puts a hand on your upper back and gently rubs back and forth

"you're going to kill me one day women.."

"then ill get to have aaall your money" you lightly laugh

kisaki's softly smiles and hesitantly leans his head forward and kisses the back of your head and he hears your breath hitch

"you can have all the money in the world.."

"tetta.."

"yes?"

"im cramping again..."

"you..want me to move from my comfortable position to get you pills?"

"yeah..."

"what am i going to do with you?"

not proof read and i think I somehow strayed away from the topic of period comfort?? :(( I tried my best..

this fic was also inspired by Period Comfort by @kazutora-kurokawa !

I have like four other one-shots in wip [spoilers it's about baji, kazutora, nahoya and souya!!]

[outercrasis]

The Distance - Ch 13

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pilot F!Reader (reader is petite/no other descriptors)

Word Count/Rating: 4.8k / T (will become M/E in later chapters)

Summary: Time to meet a new (old) friend.

Warnings: some general angst (nothing too heavy), alcohol consumption

Previous || Series Masterlist || Next

Din doesn’t offer any additional details about Mos Pelgo or whoever you're supposed to be dropping in on. You put together a small bag, prepping for a couple days away from your ship. Tex seems more nervous than you do.

“I know buddy, but I'll still be on planet,” you placate. “It's a good opportunity to test out these long range comms too. You can send me whatever updates you want while I'm gone.”

Tex beeps lowly, reluctantly accepting the situation. You don't blame him – you can't remember the last time you left Tex or the Chimera for more than a single night.

“Got ‘em!” You hold up your old goggles triumphantly, finally locating them at the bottom of a long forgotten pack. “Knew I still had these somewhere.”

Peli is already waiting for you at the bottom of the Chimera's ramp. You can see why Din likes her – she feels like a crazy aunt that you only see once a cycle, while also being able to intuit things better than anyone else you know.

“What should I know about her?” Peli asks. You can't help but smile.

Thirty minutes later and you've given her the  rundown of the Chimera's basics. Tex has instructions to share schematics with Peli when needed and is officially given authority over the pit droids. He's not so secretly thrilled by that fact. Knowing that Peli is the mastermind behind the N1 calms any of your bigger anxieties about leaving your baby behind for repairs.

Din is already standing by the speeder bike when you’re done. It’s a bigger model that could probably support a sidecar, but there are none of those in sight. The only option is to sit on the bike with Din. You steel yourself, trying to push down your hurt feelings. There’s no point in lingering on them right now when you’re about to be in very close quarters with him. 

You give Grogu a couple pats goodbye and then shove your bag into one of the saddlebags already attached to the bike. 

“Is it comfortable?” Din asks. You're more than a little lost.

“My bag?”

He chuckles, the low noise just managing to bypass the vocoder. “No, the holster.”

It's the first time you've been able to wear it since he got it for you. Sure, you've worn it around the Chimera a few times, but never out in the world. “It's good.”

If you were in a better mood you might tell him that it fits like a glove – that you can almost forget you have it on. You don't know how he managed to find a holster that feels like it was made for you.

“Good.”

You climb onto the bike, moving yourself forward to make it easier for Din. He turns and says something to Peli you don’t catch before getting onto the bike behind you. It’s tight, but you both fit. 

You’re hyper aware of his body around yours. The firm, cool beskar at your back, the way his legs bracket around yours, his arms caging you in as he reaches up to the handlebars. You barely have enough presence of mind to pull your goggles down before he takes off, launching the two of you into the vast expanse of the desert.

You wish you could enjoy this more. This is the closest and longest you have ever been next to Din and yet you're stuck in a terrible mood. With nothing to distract you, his stupid words are running on a loop in your head. 

Just a pilot.

Even worse is that you're getting upset with yourself as well as Din. You don't know why you can't let it go. Why the words wormed their way into the worst part of your brain, plaguing you and making you feel childish. He probably didn't mean anything by it. You wish you could convince yourself of that.

The speeder bike is doing nothing to improve your mood. While the bike is capable of carrying two, that doesn’t mean it was built for it. Peli was right when she said it was junk – the seat cushion barely offers a modicum of support. 

Din’s position on the bike is so firm you can’t move or readjust at all. It was fine at first, making you feel a bit safer, protected by him on the dangerously fast bike. Now though, your body aches. Your refusal to create any additional points of contact between your bodies beyond what's unavoidable isn't helping either.

Your muscles demand to move, one of your legs half asleep from the position it’s in. Only your hands are free to move but you can’t decide what to do with them, so you settle for relaxing them in your lap until that gets uncomfortable after a while. Logically you know this isn’t actually Din’s fault, but the irrational side of your brain is winning. You feel trapped, stuck in one place on the machine until Din determines that it’s time to stop. You aren’t even sure of a way to signal to him to let him know that you need a quick pause to stretch.

You endure for a bit longer before deciding that you can’t continue. You don’t know how far away Mos Pelgo is and your body feels like it’s being turned into stone from inactivity. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, you need to stretch your legs. You decide to tap Din’s leg and try to look up at him. He gets your message because soon the speeder slows down and comes to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Din asks.

“I need to stretch. I haven’t moved in too long and I’m way too stiff,” you explain. 

Din gets off of the bike first. You keep your eyes firmly planted forward, unwilling to watch and risk an awkward situation.

You stretch your arms and back first before moving from the seat. Your spine pops and you can feel your muscles rejoice from the new movement. You swing your leg around and go to step off the bike, only to have your legs give out and nearly fall face first into the sand. It appears that your leg was more than half-asleep in its crunched position.

You’re saved by Din’s quick reflexes, catching your arm and holding you up before you fall completely. “You okay, can’gal?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your arm from his hold. You do your best to ignore the painful tingles in your leg as blood flow and feeling returns. You scan the landscape as you continue to stretch. It’s desolate, countless dunes of sand as far as the eye can see. Yet the planet is beautiful in its own way – a sterile kind that is unique with its twin suns shining brightly overhead.

After about five minutes of stretching and moving around, you turn back to Din. He’s leaning against the speeder with his arms casually folded over his chest. He looks like he should be on the cover of Speeders Weekly.

“I’m ready. Mind telling me how much farther we have?”

You climb back on and Din follows. “About another hour and a half. Think you can hold on that long?”

You glance up at him behind you. “It would be easier without your giant body blocking me in, but I think I’ll make it.”

Din lets out a distorted chuckle at your barb. He gives your legs a quick squeeze with his own. You ignore the skip in your heartbeat. “You can move if you need to, just don’t fall off.”

“How can I, with you in the way?”

Din laughs again and starts up the speeder. You pull your goggles back down and he takes off, launching you back over the endless sand dunes.

Nearly two hours later, Din’s prediction a little off, you can see Mos Pelgo in the distance. The twin suns hang low in the sky and cast barely enough light to see by. The second half of the speeder ride wasn’t as bad. It was shorter and the suns sinking had alleviated much of the heat. 

You felt a bit more comfortable moving when your body began to stiffen which helped to prevent more pain. At some point you even begin to relax – if you ignored how uncomfortable the seat was beneath you it wasn’t so bad. Din’s chestplate acted as a nice backrest for you and you can tell he tried to position his legs to give yours more room. They didn't start tingling again at least.

Once you see the tiny settlement on the horizon you feel your stomach drop. Your palms are getting sweaty and you know it has nothing to do with the planet’s heat. This town clearly doesn’t have much and you wonder why Din made his way out here before. Did he track a bounty all this way? And who could compel him to return? Whoever they were, they must be pretty to come out here for a visit.

Din slows the speeder bike as you roll into town and you see a few people wandering around Mos Pelgo. You expect them all to stare in wonder or fear like what normally happens when Din comes into a town. Instead, you can hardly believe your eyes as they… wave? Are the people in this town actually waving at the big scary Mandalorian? Maker, what is this place? It’s unlike any experience you’ve ever had with Din at your side before.

Din stops the speeder outside of the cantina. He hops off and offers you a hand. You still feel anxious and a large part of you doesn’t want to take it, but you can’t fully trust your legs at the moment. His hand is firm in yours and you can’t help but feel a small amount of comfort at the touch.

The cantina is as small and cozy as you've ever seen one. The lights are low, half the tables taken up by patrons. There's a comfortable murmur filling the air that mixes with the jizz music coming from a jukebox in the corner.

Din guides you towards one of the rounded booths. You've never seen him this relaxed in a public setting before. His visor is scanning the room but the looseness of his shoulders tells you he’s not looking for a threat.

You figure you'll know this mystery person when you see them. Din might be hidden away under all that armor, but somehow the only the prettiest of people find their way to him. You've seen more than a few brave souls be turned away. Nerves get the better of you and you begin to absentmindedly pick at your fingers.

Moments later, a drawl comes from above you. “Well I'll be.”

You look up and see a tall, lanky but not awkward man standing in front of you and Din. He’s got a sideways grin plastered on his face, which should look more ridiculous than it does. His silver hair looks as though it was nicely styled like his short beard before the desert winds blew through it. His eyes are bright and you’re tempted to describe them as sparkling.

“Mando,” he says in a friendly greeting while sticking his hand out towards Din for a handshake.

“Marshal,” Din shakes the man’s hand. He turns to you and gestures to his acquaintance. “Meet Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Cobb turns his smile to you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel yourself melt a little. You already understand why Din would want to come out here for a visit – this man could probably charm just about anyone.

“And just who might you be, darlin’? Don’t tell me you’re somehow that little green kid he had with him before.”

That makes you laugh out loud. “No, I’m not.” You offer up your name along with your hand to shake. Cobb takes your hand and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. You have to admit, he’s smooth. Din gives a small cough from his side of the booth.

“Sorry there Mando, just couldn’t help myself,” Cobb says, winking at you. Oh, he’s very smooth.

“Sure you couldn’t.”

Cobb sits on your other side, across from Din, and hails the bartender over. He sets down three cups and an entire jug of spotchka. The Marshal must be well liked then, you think, if the bartender is willing to part with a jug so easily. Cobb pours all three glasses, which strikes you as odd, considering that he should know Din doesn’t eat or drink with others. Din doesn’t say anything about it though, so you keep quiet as well.

“What brings you out this way?” Cobb asks as he passes the cups around.

“Had the time. I was told you came back here after your time in the bacta tank.”

Just how many friends does Din have on this backwater rock? You thought you were getting to know one another – two loners who found each other – and here he is with a number of mystery friends he never speaks of. Maybe you had misjudged the closeness of your relationship.

“Nowhere else for me to go,” Cobb says. “Besides, the new arm works for intimidation purposes.”

With a flick of his wrist, a small blaster pops up out of the Marshal's robotic arm. It probably doesn't have any more power than a hold-out blaster, but it gets a message across. Din doesn't even flinch.

As close as you are to each other, you're able to see the gears whirring in his arm and follow the different lines and parts as they travel up towards his shoulder. His mod isn't the fanciest you've ever seen but it's still a work of art.

“Marshal, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask, gesturing towards his arm. He seems proud of it, so you don't think he'll mind the request.

He puts the blaster away, setting his arm down on the table in front of you. “Not at all. Just don't touch with that part there, sends my nerves ablaze if it's messed with.”

This new man is just as much of a mystery to you as the other one at the table. Din took months before he'd let you poke around at his armor’s electronic components and that wasn't even fully attached to his body. Meanwhile Cobb is more than happy to have you take a look while also revealing its biggest weakness.

Din and Cobb's conversation fades away as you look over his arm. This kind of fine mechanical work is always tricky, ten times more when you factor in the biological component. Cobb allows you to move his arm in whatever way you see fit, easily answering the questions that you’re mostly muttering to yourself. You ignore Din’s weighty stare.

“You’ve got a thing of beauty there, Marshal,” you say as you complete your observations.

“Well that's not a word I hear that often,” he defers. “And please, call me Cobb.”

“Somehow I doubt that, Cobb.”

He laughs loudly. “Well shoot. You've got one heck of a girl here, Mando.”

You glance over at Din. He's as stoic as ever. You're left floundering – no longer truly understanding your relationship with him or his relationship to Cobb. Irritation bubbles over.

“Not his girl. Just a pilot.” You throw back the shot of spotchka in front of you, ignoring the burn as it goes down.

“Duly noted,” Cobb says, giving you a small nod. You don’t look over at Din. You don’t want to see his reaction.

The three of you are able to fall into easy conversation from there. You discover the connection between Cobb and Din – You mean you haven’t told her ‘bout me? I’m hurt Mando, real hurt – and you decide you can’t imagine Mandalorian armor on Cobb. There’s just something about him that doesn’t work quite right with your picture. He’s too casual, too comfortable with himself to ever need a second skin over top. He's also too skinny you decide, not nearly broad enough to fill out Mandalorian armor as it should be.

You don't try to hide your fascination as Cobb regales you with the tale of the krayt dragon. "I thought he was a goner for sure, getting eaten like that. Just when I'm thinkin' the worst out he comes, flying out of the beast's mouth like some sorta hero."

You turn to Din, the spotchka in your system removing any embarrassment as you openly gape at him. "Is he telling the truth?" you ask. It's not that you don't trust Cobb, but the whole thing is so remarkable that it's hard to believe.

"He's making it sound like more than it was. I was covered in it's bile, I stunk for weeks after that."

You learn about Mos Pelgo, how Cobb came to be its Marshal, and how the town has been getting on since the dragon's death. He tells you about the run-ins with the Pyke Syndicate and how he came to lose his arm.

Through all the replays of Din and Cobb's greatest hits, you figure that if there are any kind of romantic feelings between the two, it's never elevated beyond some flirtation. It makes you feel foolish for ever getting jealous in the first place. Old habits and ways of thinking die hard, you suppose.

The spotchka goes down easy, a welcome distraction from any unhappy thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Cobb continues to flirt with you throughout the night, serving as another nice distraction. You know you shouldn't encourage it, but his open attraction and the alcohol make it difficult to resist. Sure, he is a bit skinny, a bit talkative, and his skin isn't as sun-kissed as you preferred, but he could do. 

As the night wears to a close, you can feel sleep begin to pull at the corners of your mind. The long day in the sun combined with the alcohol you consumed start working together to make your body shut down. You hardly register as Din asks Cobb where the two of you can stay for the night.

You pull yourself out of the booth, slapping your cheeks gently to try and clear up the fog in your mind. You regain enough clarity to function without assistance. After Din grabs your bags off the speeder, you both follow Cobb as he leads you both to the single spare room above the cantina.

"Sorry it ain't much, but as you know we don't get many visitors out here," Cobb says as he opens the door.

He's right. It isn't much. Just a tiny square room with a bed and a dresser with a 'fresher attached. You're happy to note that it all looks clean though, devoid of the layer of sand that seems to cover everything on Tatooine.

"It'll be just fine, thank you Marshal," you tell him. Cobb tips an imaginary hat and throws a wink at you. He gives Din a wink too, which makes you snort. He then walks away, throwing a goodnight over his shoulder.

You shake your head, amused, and follow Din into the room. Rather than flounder about the sleeping arrangements, you grab some clothes from your bag and go into the 'fresher, determined to get off at least some of the day's grime. You're disappointed with a sonic shower, although you weren't sure what else you expected, being on a desert planet. Still, it provides some relief and you change into some clean clothes to sleep in. You splash a small amount of water on your face from the sink and gulp some down in your cupped hands.

"All yours," you announce as you walk back into the small room. 

Din doesn't say anything, but he goes into the 'fresher and closes the door just a bit too hard. Was he mad about something, you wonder? Although you've hit your second wind, the alcohol is still playing with your thoughts. Maybe he's just moody from the long day.

He doesn't take long in there, certainly less time than your small tipsy fumbles, and comes back out still fully dressed. You push yourself up onto your elbows in the bed and look him over. "Take off the armor," you tell him.

"You're drunk,” he responds.

“Yeah? And why does that matter?” you ask. Din doesn’t reply. You sigh and drop backwards to stare up at the ceiling. 

“There’s no way you can be comfortable sleeping in all of that metal. So just take it off and get in the bed. I’m obviously not talking about the helmet.”

You stay staring at the ceiling. It’s a fairly comfortable position, head cushioned in the pillows, while you try to not make him uncomfortable. 

You aren’t really sure why this is such a big deal to him tonight. He’s taken off his beskar in front of you plenty of times now. Yet maybe something had changed between the two of you again without you noticing. You were just a pilot to him, maybe that meant some of his walls were coming back up? Desperately, you tried to ignore the stab of pain that thought caused you. You don’t want to lose Din to the cold, distant Mando you met so many months ago, especially not without knowing why. The thought is too much to bear.

You turn on your side, away from Din, offering him extra assurance that you weren’t just trying to perv on him as he removed his armor. You know he's caught you staring more than a few times around the Chimera. Did that bother him? You should have asked.

Part of you knows you should be more nervous about sharing a bed with Din – particularly with this growing gulf between the two of you. This is intimate in a way, isn’t it? Sharing a space to sleep like this? Yet, whether it’s the influence of the alcohol or the exhaustion, you can’t find it within yourself to be flustered over it. It’s practical anyway. You both need sleep and Mos Pelgo only has the one room and bed to offer. One of you sleeping on the floor would be stupid. You try to convince yourself that if only Din would stop being ridiculous and get into the bed, things would be just fine again – right?

After what seems like an eternity, you hear metal pieces begin to clank down together on the dresser. A small smile works its way across your lips and you’re happy that for once it’s your face hidden away from his. He’s hesitant maybe, but not uncomfortable enough to keep the heavy armor on. Knowing that things are okay enough, your eyes shutter closed and a deep sleep carries you away.

Din is surprised to discover that you’re already asleep when he climbs into bed. You seemed so awake a few moments ago when he started taking off his armor. He’s still kicking himself for his reaction. 

Of course you meant for him to take it off to go to sleep, not... anything else. Why would you? You’ve been acting off ever since landing on Tatooine. You wouldn’t suddenly be asking him for that, not now. Not that you would want anything like that with him anyway – Din feels like a monster for thinking that way about you.

Looking down at you, Din ruminates a bit more. Somehow between all of the bounties, long hours, injuries, and repairs, you worked your way into his heart. Part of him doesn’t want to admit it still, that you have such a large effect on him, but it gets harder with every passing day. Touches and stares linger for longer and Din takes notice of your bashfulness every time he calls your name. Until today.

Din hasn’t been able to figure out what has caused the change. Soon after landing in Tatooine you brushed him off, distancing yourself from him. He knew the speeder bike situation wasn’t ideal, but usually you would have handled something like that with more tact, not the brash way you questioned Peli about another bike. You were tense for the longest time on the bike, not relaxing until the small break you took part way through the ride. Were you just upset to be stuck on Tatooine? Bothered by the beating the Chimera took? Or had he done something?

He was leaning towards the idea that he had done something to upset you. Just a pilot. Those words bounced around in his mind. 

He panicked when Peli asked who you were and those had been the first words out of his mouth. He hardly even considered the way they would sound. The way you repeated those words to Cobb, it felt like a slap to the face.

The town marshal wasn't helping anything either. Watching the two of you was making his blood boil. He likes the man, killing a krayt dragon together has that effect, but he has few qualms about punching the Marshal in the face right about now. He stared at you so openly, flirted so shamelessly, and you reciprocated. If Din was a lesser man he would have thrown you over his shoulder and carted you out of the cantina.

His mind continued to swirl and wander. Was it simply being stuck on Tatooine that made you change? Did being stuck here, with no agenda as you put it earlier, make you realize flying around with him was not the life you wanted? 

Of course you didn’t want to be stuck, tied down to a man who couldn’t even show you his face, who couldn’t even admit what you were to him. Cobb was able to make his intentions towards you obvious from the first words he spoke. You deserved that, not the brief, vague moments of intimacy Din had to offer.

Din looks away from you, trying to close his heart off from you, deciding that it’s what's best. He makes himself comfortable, lying on his back, helmet cushioned by the pillow.

He reopens his eyes just as soon as he closes them. You've repositioned yourself in your sleep, turning over and wrapping an arm firmly around his waist, face tucked into his side. 

The touch makes him nervous, unsure of how to react to the foreign embrace. His resolve to give you up quickly crumbles. Din’s never had this. He’s thought of it before, but it was all theoretical. This is real and unlike anything he ever imagined.

Part of him feels perverted for enjoying it as much as he is and so quickly after realizing you deserved more than him. You’re asleep and you fell asleep facing the other direction – you had no control over this, no consent. 

Despite those protests, he can’t help but sink into your touch. He repositions his arm, wrapping it around you, which causes you to shift your head up onto his chest. His breathing stops for a minute, terrified that you’ll wake up and pull away, but you remain lost in blissful dreams. The feeling of your warm body pressed against his, hand fisting into his shirt, the gentle rise and fall of your back against his palm while you breathe, is almost more than he can handle.

Din lies there for a few minutes, trying to commit every sensation, every sound you make to memory. It’s overwhelming and yet he craves more. With the helmet on in this position, he can’t get the right angle to look down at you. A risky idea runs through his mind and once again he ignores his protesting thoughts, following the path your touch has sent him down. 

He calls your name twice, softly, just to test how deeply you’re sleeping. When you don’t do so much as twitch, he decides it’s safe enough. 

Carefully, Din removes his helmet with his hand that isn’t holding onto you. He doesn’t set it down, holding onto it in case he needs to quickly put it back on. Vision unobscured, he looks down at you wrapped around his body. Din finds himself dumbstruck.

That moment secures your position in his mind as the most beautiful thing in the whole of the galaxy. You look so peaceful, any worries wiped clean from your face. Your mouth is slightly open and although Din knows that means you’ll probably drool on him, he can’t bring himself to care. Your hair is a beautiful mess and Din thinks back to the one time he was able to touch it before, back on Rishi with you half-conscious from a concussion. He's really got to stop having these moments while you aren't awake.

Moving more cautiously than he ever has before, Din dips his head down and presses a gentle kiss against the top of your head. He whispers cyar’ika to you and dares to kiss you again. With one final look and a shaky breath, Din slips his helmet back on. He knows he’ll never get to sleep otherwise, far too tempted to spend the rest of his night just staring at you.

No longer using a taglist -- If you want alerts, this fic is available and gets updated on ao3 at the same time, so you can subscribe on there if you want to know when I update!

also going to be mushy here and say thank you to anyone who has sent me a message, left a comment, etc on this fic. It genuinely means the world to know that people are still reading and thinking about this fic 🥺💕

[lady-of-tearshed]

Impactful words

@ruhnweek @cadiawrites

Day four: Free Day

Ruhn Danaan x Lidia Cervos

A/N: *Gasp* That gif is so Ruhn and Lidia. Anyways. I love them. Also, first quote is from the movie Pride and Prejudice. If you do not know that series, respectfully, go watch it right this instant. It's sappy. 💕

A HUGE thanks to @sarawritestories for helping me out with that Pollux part. Ily sweets you're the best. 💕

Summary: Idk. Period comfort.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Period, abusive Pollux, angst, panic, anxiety, self-loathing, vomiting, blood

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”

Gods, that was sappy. Lidia’s cheeks turn into a bright red at the sight of the handsome actor on the screen, and she cuddles closer to Ruhn. Ruhn isn’t fond of this kind of romantic lovey-dovey movie, but he always caves in to watch it with his mate. Only to see her eyes glimmer as she swore she wasn’t crying, or see her squirm on the seat beside him when a heated scene came up. It was some kind of unspoken rule in their relationship. She watches sunball with him, and he watches her romantic movies. That’s how it works between them.

Well, watch.

He is supposed to be watching the movie right now. But sleep had rushed through him mere minutes after his long fingers had started to thread through Lidia’s silky golden hair. He had traced the length of her blond curls and his eyelids instantly grew heavy. He can’t help it. Lidia’s locks are just so soft. It is nearly impossible for him, or anyone else, to not feel relaxed and sleepy while combing her hair.

Lidia’s peers up at Ruhn in hope to get his insight on her favorite movie scene, her golden eyes still wet from how emotional this scene makes her every damn time. She pouts, a bit disappointed to find Ruhn’s eyes closed and his chest rising and falling slowly, steadily. How can someone fall asleep so quickly? She clicks her tongue, her eyes rolling and she lifts her hand to Ruhn’s face to flick his nose, in hope to wake him up. Her hand freezes, and she feels like she has just been struck by lightning. She grunts, and clutches her stomach tightly, curling into a ball between Ruhn’s legs.

Lidia mentally curses, blaming Cthona for the pulsing pain in her womb. Tears were burning her eyes. The blond-haired Fea female sinks her teeths in her lower lip to choke back her whimpers. She bites it so hard that it pierces open, and she can taste the saltiness of her own blood on her tongue. Silent as a mouse, Lidia unfolds her legs from her fetal position. She can't wake Ruhn up. Then she feels it. What she dreaded the most. That familiar stickiness pooling between her thighs. She needs to get up, to push through the pain, and hurry to the bathroom. Now.

What if… What if... What if…

Unfounded fear settles in her gut as she starts to make up the worst scenarios of Ruhn’s reaction when he would learn that she dirtied his expensive-looking couch. Her legs shake weakly as she rolls to her side, contracting her muscles to stand up. She scolds herself. She should’ve kept track of her menstrual cycle. She should’ve known it was coming. If only she hadn’t been too lost in the frenzy of hers and Ruhn’s love affair… Her stomach churns, it’s her fault, all of it. She feels gross.

You stupid bitch…

"Look at what you did," Pollux gripped Lidia's gold locks and forced her face on the couch. The little breath she was able to get was invaded by the metallic stench of blood that was stained on the couch. It was an accident. Her punishment? Being suffocated into the cushion as if she was a pup having her nose rubbed in for urinating on the furniture. Lidia's oxygen was limited, and spots appeared in her vision. This was how she would die. Before her lungs gave out, Pollux yanked her head back as she gasped for air. "You stupid bitch."

She forces air through her lungs as she tries to stand on her wobbly legs. Sweat is coating her forehead, and her gaze lands on the bathroom door. Five more steps. She can do this. She’s been through worse. Lidia doesn’t dare look behind her, too afraid to see the copper stain she might’ve left there.

You stupid bitch…

Tears blurries her vision, and she can feel them tracing patterns as they slide down her cheeks. She takes a first step, then attempts a second one. Her stomach churns from the overwhelming distress and pain in her body. She sobs, heaves, and with the remaining strength she has left, she collapses on her knees, in the bathroom doorway. She wastes no time, ang crawls to the toilet. Her peripheral vision narrows as bile falls out of her mouth. She had managed to reach for the toilet bowl, at least she didn’t make another mess. Her fingers painfully grips onto the toilet seat, her knuckles turning white. She tries to ground herself, to breathe, to calm down.

“Lidia..?”

Ruhn. Her stomach flips, and she tries to keep her nausea at bay. Her breathing is getting shallow and her heart is beating so fast, so loud, that she can herself hear it. Ruhn wastes no time, and tug on his hair tie in one swift movement, using it to tie Lidia's hair in a ponytail as fast as he can, before they fall into the toilet. He kneels right behind her, caging her between his knees, his left hand rubbing circles on her lower back in an attempt to sooth her tense muscles. His other hand strokes her white knuckles as she holds on for dear life onto the freezing toilet seat.

Oh, Ruhn.

“Look at you,” Pollux growled behind her, and she tried her best not to flinch. She closed her eyes, waiting for her lover's rage to fall onto her. Like the rock that the waves keep crashing over. “On your knees like a good little bitch, cleaning up your,” He paused, and Lidia could imagine him clearly, scrunching his nose in disgust and clenching his fists. “Mess.”

She wanted to apologize, she should've. But the words stayed tucked deep down in her throat. The smell of bleach burnt her nostrils before she could feel it scorch the soft skin of her hands. She jumped back, the towel she was holding fell from her aching hands. She stumbled back against Pollux's chest, and was quickly slammed back down on her knees. She felt her knee pads wobble from the harsh impact. The Hammer held her hair tightly, so tight that she could feel some hair detaching from her burning scalp as he pushed her back down on her aching knees. “Stop whining,” Pollux snarled, shaking the remnants of the chemical onto the couch. Everything burned, her eyes, her nostrils, her hands, her lungs… “Clean,” He spat, his voice held no mercy. And he walked out of the room before she could apologize for something she had no control over.

She should've been more careful. She would be next time. She would track her cycle properly.

What a stupid bitch…

“Fuck, why are your… feminine products so far away,” Ruhn’s hand stays still on her back, as he stretches his arm towards the sink cabinet. His rummaging makes the bottles, and different products bump against one another, some of them landing on the floor. Lidia groans, wiping her mouth as she tries, but fails to move from in front of the toilet to help Ruhn. “Ah, got em’.” Ruhn states, holding the pink envelope of a pad in his hand, smiling proudly.

“Ruhn, it's…” She tears up, and shakes her head. The hormones, she tries to convince herself that it’s the only reason for her emotional turmoil. She swallows, and stands up, wincing. She needs to clean up the couch. To get into clean clothes, and put this pad on. Ruhn stands close to her, his hands on her hips, steading her, the menstrual pad still in hand. “Don’t touch me, I'm gross,” She chokes out, tears clouding her vision. Pathetic. She was acting pathetic. Her cycle, and suffering wasn't Ruhn's problem.

And yet he still cares…

He shouldn't. She doesn't deserve that.

What a stupid bitch…

“Hey…” Ruhn’s frown deepens, and he holds her closer to him, rocking her from side to side as she sobs. Her breathing is incredibly fast. And her eyes… Her beautiful gold eyes look dark, so dark, she seems to be stuck in a bad memory, somewhere so far away… He sways her slowly from side to side, placing soft kisses on the top of her head. “Would a bath sound nice, maybe?” He murmurs against her hairline, his nose humming the delicious scent of her shampoo. She feels gross, so maybe a bath would help her to feel better in her skin, he guesses.

A bath… A bath… No, the couch. She needs to clean her mess first. Gross, she feels so grossed out of herself.

Lidia’s thoughts are reeling, her body so stiff, frozen in shock. She is still unused to such kindness in that type of situation. She snaps back into reality when she hears the water run from the faucet. Ruhn keeps his arms protectively draped around her, his concerned glance fixed on her face. Her rapidly moving chest meets his steady one with every breath she tries to take. She finally manages to copy Ruhn’s breathing, and she can now hear better, see better, and the pain was a bit more bearable too. “Bath?” Ruhn asks again, staring into the honey depths of Lidia’s eyes. She was here, safe, with him, out of these horrific thoughts.

“The couch,” She swallows down, trying to lube her dry and sore throat. She tries to slip away from Run's comforting, and oh so warm arms. “You’d prefer to rest on the couch?” Ruhn asks, trying to figure out what his girlfriend needs from the little glimpse of information she mumbles to him. She bites her cheek at the thought of Ruhn’s couch, her eyes filling with tears again. Ruhn rubs his thumbs on her arms slowly, the worry for his mate is written all over his face. “No, I need to clean the couch.” She blurts out.

The couch. The couch. She made a mess. What a stupid bitch. The couch…

Ruhn stills, and his eyes narrow as he tries to figure out where all this nonsense and panic comes from. He wonders how he could have ever made her believe that he cared more for such material things than her well-being and comfort. “No, I'll just buy a cleaning spell later,” He murmurs, confused at Lidia’s panicked state. Has he done something wrong? He doesn't like it for one bit that his mate looks so terrified around him. He sighs and presses a kiss on the top of her head. “Bathe, Lidia. Or rest. Is it because you'd prefer to just change and rest? I didn't mean to force you into doing anything.”

Lidia sobs, covering her mouth with her hand. Ruhn moves one of his hands to cradle her face against his chest. Lidia feels like if it wasn't from Ruhns's love and tender hold, her heart would have shattered completely from the weight of her guilt and self-disgust.

“Please,” Ruhn pleads, his fingers brushing away her tears. “Tell me what's wrong.”

“I just… I dirtied your couch. I should've kept track of my cycle. I'm such a,” She hiccups, her throat feeling so tight, “Such a,” Such a stupid bitch, she wants to say, but the words refuse to come out. Only sobs and incoherent babbling fall from her lips.

Everything makes sense for Ruhn, then.

Fucking Pollux.

Ruhn cuts her off with a soft caress of his lips against hers. Now is not the time for him to be angry at Pollux. He needs to be calm, and reassuring, for his Lidia. He takes a deep breath. “Hey, no. Gods, Lidia no…” Ruhn holds up her chin so his eyes can dive deep in hers. He doesn't want her to feel bad around him. Especially not over something she has absolutely no control of. He hates it. Hates the one that has carved nonsense into her brain even more. Only time would undo the mental and emotional damage Pollux had caused.

“You are such a strong and beautiful female,” He smiles softly down at her, turning off the faucet, his eyes not leaving her puffy and red ones even for one second. His hands slide under her shirt, tracing her ribs slowly. He looks into her eyes, silently asking for her permission. Lidia nods, her blond curls bouncing on her shoulders as she does, and he lifts her shirt off. “My strong and beautiful mate…” He whispers, kissing away her tears as he helps her out of the rest of her clothes.

Lidia absent-mindedly watches Ruhn as he gently picks her up, and settles her nude body in the tub. Her muscles relax with the heat of the water. Her whole skin welcomed the warmth, too, making it feel like she was receiving a peaceful hug. She closes her eyes and leans back her hand in Ruhn's palms as he starts to rub shampoo through her sweat coated hair. She rubs her stomach, trying to ease the pain of her cramps and the guilt lingering there.

“You've done nothing wrong,” Ruhn's voice breaks through the silence. “It was an accident. I love you. It's not your fault," He adds.

“I'm so–” “Don't.” He says, his tone slightly harsh, and he hated himself for how Lidia flinches. He shakes his head, his fingers still massaging the shampoo on her scalp. He sighs, “Don't be sorry. Please. You have nothing to be sorry about. Not with me.” She nods, tilting her head back a little bit more so Ruhn could rinse her hair. The shampoo tickles her ears as the water falls on her head, and she sinks in the comfort and reassuring presence of her mate.

Ruhn rubs every surface of her fair skin with a cleaning glove. Lidia almost starts crying again at the look of pure love and adoration shining in the blue eyes she loved so much. He wasn't disgusted, of her, or her femininity. He loves her, and admires her as a person. The deer shifter's heart flutters at this sight.

“I love you, Lidia. Like, a lot,” Ruhn chuckles slightly to ease the atmosphere, lightening Lidia’s heavy heart. “And I want you to be comfortable with me. I know it'll take time. But let's just start with like,” He halts, his eyebrows frowning as he tries to figure out where they could start. He grins when suddenly, an idea pops up in his head. “Keeping your feminine products at easy reach in the cabinet? It would be a good start. Okay?” He winks at her, replacing the things in the cabinet, putting the box of pads and tampons in front of everything, so it’s easy for her, or him, to reach when needed.

The realization feels like a kick in Lidia’s guts. She doesn't have to hide them anymore.

Not with Ruhn.

My strong and beautiful mate.

Ruhn's words thrums in her ears, and the sight of his eyes filled with all the beautiful emotions he feels towards her dances in her mind, replacing all negative thoughts and fear that Pollux had once pushed there.

She smiles, truly smiles, and nods, the water sloshing around her as she brings her knees to her chest. “Okay.”

My strong and beautiful mate...

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe

[piebingo]

I think one of the main factors in Wille finally breaking the cycle and getting out of the monarchy this season is Kristina’s health going downhill.

In s1, Kristina is presented as this unbreaking monarch and hard mother. She’s mad at Wille for the fight, takes a drastic measure and sends him away, and doesn’t ever break in face of Wille’s pleads to come back home to his family. When Erik dies, she barely breaks, expecting Wille to be as "strong" as she is. And then when the video comes out, when Wille is broken down by it and needs comfort and reassurance, she’s still unbreaking, pushing through and "solving" the problem easily. Kristina is his mother sometimes, especially when things go well, but the first and most important aspect she always puts foreword is that of a strong Queen who takes care of her country.

S2 is in the same vein, but as Wille molds more to her requests as a Queen, we see a bit more her motherly side. She’s still a strong Queen, a ruler who doesn’t back down from threats (Wille going to Instagram and abdicating) and solves those issues. By the end of the series, she was proud of him, showing how she still came on top, how her ways will make someone else be unbreaking, forming her son after her ways. Until the speech.

The speech breaks Kristina, and I think that this in turn breaks Wille’s illusions too. Because how can he, who doesn’t even like the monarchy in the way his mother clearly does, be expected to stay strong and just in front of difficulties and change? How can Wille, be able to do that, when they need some unbreaking version of Crown Prince Wilhelm? How can he survive this institution if his mother can’t? When Wille is already feeling so beaten down by it, and then he’s expected to take on the role in the next year at earliest? Seeing how impossible the role is for someone who was as strong in her convictions and as ruthless in keeping the good image of the crown break down from it gives absolutely no hope to Wille that he could ever have done it himself, unless he were to choose the path where he would decided to kill Wille to only leave place to Crown Prince Wilhelm.

And we saw it this season, Crown Prince Wilhelm is not a nice, caring, just and loving leader. Crown Prince Wilhelm is someone who is forced into a role he doesn’t want and can’t fit in, no matter how hard he tries. Crown Prince Wilhelm is the worst parts of Wille, someone that can’t grow and expand into the beautiful person Wille can be. Crown Prince Wilhelm would become just like his mother, except he is already starting to crumble. But Wille, on the other hand, is who he can be now that he’s decided to come out of there. Now that he’s rejecting that life for himself, if we can even call it a life. Wille is who he can be now that he decided he was more important than an institution that doesn’t care about individuals, that traps them and breaks them without giving them the choice to think if they want this.

[agenderduck]

thinking about how duck and red are two sides of the same coin, opposites yet exactly the same. duck is a square, a cube if you will. he desperately wants to be in control of something, anything. deep down though he wants nothing more than for the trio to be a family because that is where he feels most safe and secure. duck’s can’t live without their flock. he acts out of fear though he’ll never admit it. any slip up on his end could lead to the trio separating again. so he clings to his clipboard and does his visual inventory by compulsion. duck does it to feel some level of ‘control’ because what choice does he have? he hates feeling weak, but most of all he hates the thought of his friends being anywhere but with him.

red on the other hand is a rhombus/diamond, a square slightly tipped to the side. on the surface it seems like a different shape but they have the same amount of sides, and the same dimensions. red says he wants to be dead because in his eyes its the only way he can gain some level of control over himself, though true death will never be an option for them within the cycle. those sweet moments of darkness might be nice for a second but then before he knows it the lights are back on and the house is spinning again.

transport and electricity highlight how duck and red will never have the same courage yellow has to confront his discomfort with the cycle. both will inevitably continue to run from that discomfort. red runs from everything all the time, like duck’s death, or the three of them being a family. he runs from his discomfort with the cycle in transport, and it is far from his first time doing something similar. red is too beaten down to question things like yellow does. deep down he cares for the other two, realistically he can’t live without them, but he wishes he could. red associates them with the house often, and the things he himself can’t be. duck on the other hand runs by desperately trying to hide the fact that hes terrified behind his ego and abiding by the rules. he is consistently beaten down and devalued by it, duck has long since given up questioning why these things happen to him. why would he fight back when bad things will continue to happen to him regardless? the trio could be split up for all he knows,it could put their little family at risk. so when yellow starts questioning things in electricity,duck is not just worried that his friend is acting differently, and out of the norm its also a reminder of the fact that he will never be able to do the same.

they’re not allowed to feel much of anything, forced to put forward the often worst parts of themselves, forced into character types they don’t want to play. red and duck bicker, but its not out of any disdain for each other, quite the opposite really. they respect and care for each other deeply, though they would rarely ever admit it. red, because of his general avoidance, and duck because he assumes its already implied. they huddle together when yellow starts acting ‘wrong’ in electricity because the sense of familiarity they have with each other is comforting. both puppets love and care for yellow, but fail to truly understand him and his point of view. as long as they’re in the light the trio’s interactions with each other will be hollow and limited. for duck and red the only time we see them truly open up around each other is in the dark. only then do they realize they actually like looking at each other. ‘my housemate has really pretty eyes actually…. why am i only just now realizing that.’ they see each other in the fridge scene in a way they’re denied most every other time. they realize that they genuinely enjoy each other’s presence and appearance all while barely being able to see each other. its both intimate and sad. the scene is abruptly interrupted when red and duck question where yellow is who shortly after appears to have come back down stairs, accidentally letting the light back in. anything that was just said goes straight into the shredder. the trio will never be on the same page ever. no real change will ever be made for duck and red with their egos and vulnerabilities getting in the way. so while duck and red have the potential to make each other better on paper, they will more than likely continue to make each other so much worse, they are puppets bound and choked by their own strings.

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 10 Summary:

Joel's body has become depleted from countless bouts of torture and violence. His fellow prisoner tries to encourage him but the situation continues to deteriorate until he meets someone new in the arena. Meanwhile, the bodies have been piling up as you hunt for Joel. After witnessing a familiar face being beaten to a bloody pulp, will you risk your life to save them or focus on your own problems?

Warnings: Past Trauma, Violence Inflicted on and by Joel and Reader, Threats, Angst, Joel Needs a FAT Hug, Paul Needs to Die, Mention of SA (not on reader or Joel), Cooper also probably needs a hug, Joel misses reader and reader is completely feral.

A/N:

Welcome back y'all. I said I was going to be dropping soon and I meant that shit!

This chapter has a lot of violence towards literally all of the characters we love dearly (sorry lol). Additionally, Joel gets a look in a darker side of the camp. This side of the camp is v gross, the implication being that omegas are SA-ed there. If this is a trigger for you, stay away friend! Keep yourself safe and maybe check in the chapters to come, or message me and I can spark-notes it for ya. As always, keep yourselves safe.

Chapter 10/20

Chapter 9: The Oaf, The Matriarch & The Reunion

Joel didn’t know how many days had passed in this hellhole. Every moment blurred together in an endless cycle of cruelty and pain. His body was depleted, starved despite the small bits of food that Jake shared and bullied him into eating. Joel tried to refuse but the younger man was persistent and badgered him until he finally relented. He slept at times but it was never peaceful for long with the guards coming to drag him back to the arena every time he managed to get comfortable. 

Three times they had thrown him down that hole and three times he had escaped by the skin of his teeth. Joel wasn’t sure if a fourth time was in his wheelhouse. He was too old and too tired to keep getting tossed around. After he had ripped through most of their prisoners in the first two rounds, the last time he had been faced with nothing but riled up clickers. That trip was too close. One had almost got him but Joel barely managed to slip out of its grasp. 

If they took him down there again, if Joel was forced into another round of mindless violence, he couldn’t survive it. Not with the way his back was blackened from the harsh landings. His knuckles were busted from the constant fighting and bled anytime he moved a finger. Not to mention the fact that his pulsing headache had slowly shifted into an ear splitting migraine that warped the corners of his vision. 

Worst of all was the isolation. Jake was right across from him and Cooper came every so often but their presence didn’t help. Isolation had been nothing to him at one point in life but it now grated on him. It wasn’t just anyone his heart called for, it was you. He had heard in some health class long ago that a bond between mates linked people together forever. If the bonded pair were to ever part, it would send both parties into a spiral. 

Joel remembered how he had scoffed at that, making all of his friends around him crack up as the teacher turned from her place at the board to scold him. The notion that a grown man needed anyone other than himself seemed absolutely ridiculous at the time but as he sat alone in his cell, he understood it to be true. He was past the point of desperation, allowing himself to become cloaked in gloom. It felt like all of the safety pins that had held him together for years were being pulled out one by one as time passed. 

The omega across from Joel sensed it, as did his mate. Or maybe they smelled the putrid stench wafting from his pores. The stench of an alpha separated from his mate was unmistakable and it overpowered any other smell in the room. They tried to encourage him, or at least Jake did. Mostly Cooper just avoided eye contact and gave him an awkward thumbs up anytime his mate elbowed him in the ribs. Their support was more compassionate than he deserved and he tried to appreciate it but it was also futile. 

The bond he shared with you was betraying him, forcing him into a state that he had never been in. After Sarah died, he tried to follow her into the abyss and he failed. Joel had the scar across his nose to prove it. With no other choice, he had kept on living in spite of himself. Joel numbed the pain with pills, liquor and violence, hoping that one of his vices would eventually take him out. 

Later on, when Ellie died, his survival served as a punishment for his inability to do the one thing he was created to do. The grief he felt began to hold a different meaning after Ellie’s death. Joel had to live, it was what he deserved for being such a failure. For four years he was alone and miserable, locked away in a prison of his own creation for his downfalls. 

Both times that Joel had been separated from those he loved was brutal but this was different somehow. In between his second and third round in the arena, Joel slowly became catatonic. He had given up on trying to escape. It all seemed so pointless if you were somewhere safe. All he did in the hours he was awake was think of you while he laid motionless in his bunk. 

The curls on the back of head were matted but he let them be. The last set of hands to run themselves through his locks were yours and he wanted to keep it that way. He knew it was stupid but so was the fact that Joel had lived 56 years without a mate only to lose her almost immediately. How much time could he have had if Paul hadn’t found his cabin? 

“C’mon man. You can’t just roll over and die. Talk to me at least. We could try to get out of here. We could go find her! Please,” Jake called. 

Joel remained still in his bunk, facing the wall with a tensed jaw. He knew it was childish to ignore his fellow inmate and pretend to be asleep but he couldn’t help it. How could Joel possibly escape from this place? And if he did, what was the point? If you truly had escaped Paul and found your way to somewhere safe, he couldn’t possibly chase after you. He knew that they would just follow him, capturing you immediately because of him. Joel couldn’t have that. 

Better he die here, lonely and broken, just as he was before he met you. It was almost poetic. A tragic lead doomed to repeat the same cycle over and over again. Joel would find a reason to live and dilute himself into thinking it could last forever, only for it to be torn from him in the cruelest of ways each time. Rinse and repeat. Love and then grief. He was exhausted by it. 

“She’s still alive, you could see her again. Don’t you want that?,” the omega begged. 

What a stupid question. Seeing you again was the only thing in the world Joel wanted. If he had a time machine, he would go back to your first encounter and confess his love immediately so that he could have more time at your side. Joel remembered trying to keep his distance. He wanted to keep you safe from the mess that inevitably came with loving a man like him. The chivalric restraint all seemed so stupid from behind bars. That time had been wasted and now it was the only time with you he would ever spend. 

It was funny how he did that. Everytime Joel loved someone, he took the time with them for granted. The days spent with you had seemed like they would last for eternity, spanning on and on until the sun eventually imploded or the oceans dried up. Maybe that was what it meant to be human, to have the arrogance to believe that life would be that kind to you. To predispose your own destiny without taking the cruelty of the world into account. 

A drawn out sight came from the other side of the room before Jake piped up again

“Christ’s sake, okay listen up you dumbass.”

The harshness in Jake’s tone got his attention. It had been nothing but endless encouragement from him and Joel found himself interested in what he had to say. 

“I know how it feels to be without your person, alright? Cooper and Allie were gone, I had no idea where he was or if my daughter was alive. So I fucking get it, but you can’t just curl up and die! Do you think for a second that she would want that?!” 

Joel turned in his bunk and faced him. His gaze was heavy. He knew that the younger man didn’t deserve the weight of it but he couldn’t help it. A darkness like he had never felt before was suffocating him and a glare was the best he could do. 

“She would kick your ass for even thinking about giving up. And don’t you dare say that she wouldn’t, because I know my best friend,” he snapped.

Joel huffed. It wasn’t a full laugh but it was something and Jake seemed satisfied by it, sitting back on his bed as his eyes raked over Joel. 

Joel’s eyes turned glossy and the mark on his neck throbbed. It felt wrong for the eyes on him to be anyone’s except yours and suddenly his skin felt itchy. He knew that your best friend didn’t mean anything bad by it, he was just trying to make sure that Joel survived. But the distance between the two of you was wearing on the alpha and the attention of anyone else, innocent or not, was almost unbearable. 

“I can’t,” Joel mumbled. 

An empathetic noise came from Jake and he stood, walking to the edge of his cell before he spoke again. 

“There really isn’t any can or cannot with this. It’s either you do everything in your power to survive for your mate or you don’t.” 

Joel was furious at the statement. It snapped him from the darkness he dwelled in and forced him to his feet in seconds. He felt dizzy, the lack of food and the pressure in his skull nearly knocking him flat on his ass but he held strong. He fumbled for a second, catching himself on the bars before he looked up to scowl at the omega. 

“You have no right t-” he started before the omega cut him off. 

“I have all the right Joel. Who is going to have to tell their best friend that the love of her life is dead if you keep it up? Me. And what do you want me to say? Oh, he gave up because he thought it would be easier. Do you have any idea what that would do to her?!,” Jake hissed.  

Guilt seeped and Joel fought hard against it to remain poised. How would you react if he died? The more self conscious side of him whispered that it wouldn’t mean anything to you. If anything, it would be a day for celebration. You could finally be unshackled from the old man that weighed you down, free to roam and find someone more suitable. Perhaps you would find someone who wasn’t locked within himself and weighed down by a lifetime of disappointment.  

However, despite Joel’s self doubt, he knew how you felt about him. He felt it through the bond. His death would leave you devastated. Despite the demon on Joel’s shoulder reminding him of all the ways that you would be better off, he knew that he couldn’t be the cause of your pain. Plus, the thought of you with anyone else sickened Joel and made him clench his jaw in an effort not to scream at the threat he had just made up in his head. 

“I… I just,” Joel stopped to collect himself, trying to find the right words to express how he felt. 

“Like I said man, you don’t have to explain it to me. My pup and mate were MIA for a year and now my pup is somewhere without the both of us. Believe me, I get it,” Jake sighed. 

The two men locked eyes for a moment. Pain was etched onto the omega’s face, shattering the usual hopeful front that he put on, and Joel found himself softening. It was true. Jake understood the agony that he felt better than anyone.

“I’m… I’m sorry about your daughter. I hope -,” Joel cut himself off. 

Hope held no weight in this world, he knew that, and it certainly held no place in the heart of a father whose child was missing. 

“Yeah… Yeah, me too,” the younger man said dejectedly. 

Joel nodded, recognizing the faraway expression that tightened the edges of his usually smirking mouth. 

“Thank-,” the sentiment was halted in Joel’s mouth. 

The door swung open. Jake scrambled back to the furthest corner of his cell, making himself tiny as an unfamiliar man walked in. Joel stayed leaned up against the bars, refusing to allow the guard to see any deterrence from him. 

He waited for the guard to unlock the door and take him down to the arena once more but instead he stopped in front of Joel’s cell, glaring at him with a hatred that he wasn’t sure he deserved. 

“She killed my fucking sister,” the man seethed. 

“Who?,” Joel asked incredulously. 

The accusation was bizarre. Joel racked his brain for what it could mean. The only “she” that he could think of was Tess. That was the last woman he knew to have a penchant for bloodlust but it seemed unusual for this man to be bothered so long after her death. Tess had died four years ago, soon to be five. Did the alpha truly expect Joel to remember one of her victims from who knows how many years earlier? If she had lived, he doubted that even Tess would have been able to remember. 

“Your slut has killed twelve of our men. TWELVE! They say it could be more. Fuck, the bodies just keep piling up. And one of them was my sister. Fucking gutted her like a fish and left her out in the snow to bleed to death,” he spat. 

No. 

No, you couldn’t have. Joel refused to believe it. The omega he knew was funny, smart, and so sweet. His mate wasn’t violent. And she certainly didn’t have it in her to gut a fully grown alpha. It wasn’t about strength, he had seen you lift enough things while working around the cabin to know that you were physically strong, it was about brutality.  

“My MATE had nothing to do with what you’re talking about. She would never,” Joel stated. 

The man cackled but the sound didn’t meet his icy stare.

“Thought you might say that,” the alpha said, reaching to pull a rumpled flannel from his coat. 

Joel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. It was his flannel, the same one that you had donned the day he was knocked out. The green fabric was soiled, red splotches dirtying nearly every inch of it. The man shoved the shirt through the cell and it fell to Joel’s feet. He stooped down, knees creaking as he gathered the fabric and pressed it to his face. 

There was no denying who this fabric belonged to, not when the smell of peppermint and lavender made his lower lip tremble with longing. He caught the plush skin with his teeth, forcing himself to remain strong despite the fact that your scent was polluted with the smell of other alphas. 

“This can’t - You found her shirt and poured it on. There’s no way. You’re fucking lying to me.” 

The man laughed, “Am I?” 

He wasn’t. 

Joel saw it as plain as day on his face and it shocked him. He wasn’t sure how to feel. A million emotions whipped through him. Surprise at your viciousness, grief at the thought that you now knew what it was like to take a life, pride at your bravery, and fear for the target that had undoubtedly been placed on your back. Paul might want you for himself but Joel was unsure if the alpha held enough power to convince a group of pissed off brutes that you were not to be touched. 

“Paul isn’t the only one looking for her now ya know. A group of the guys have already banded up and left town early this morning. You would not believe the things they were talking about doing to her,” he whistled as he stepped closer to the cell. 

Joel hardened his stance and glared at the leering alpha that raised his hands out in front of himself. 

“Hey man, not my style. I prefer to take it a bit slower, make them really feel it as I break 'em in. That way you can see the light fade from their eyes. The little bit of spark that makes them rebel just goes poof,” the man said as he snapped his fingers together. 

Joel’s hand reached out and grasped the guard by the scruff of his neck, pulling him forward to slam into the bars. The man hissed as he leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Anyone who touches her is going to die. Maybe it’ll be me or hell, maybe it’ll be her, but they will be killed by one of us.”

Joel fumbled with his waistband for a moment before he withdrew the tool that had been saving him in the arena for days. He smiled as the blade sunk into the hollow of the man’s throat, cutting off his response and turning him to a gagging mess. 

Blood splattered over the front of him when he pulled it out of the guard’s throat but Joel didn’t care. This was the first person that he had killed in his time imprisoned that he felt actually deserved it. The others had just been helpless bystanders that stood in the way of his escape. 

The alpha fell back onto the floor, twitching and retching blood until he finally stilled. Joel watched in sick satisfaction until he heard a voice from the other side of the room. 

“What the fuck did you just do?,” Jake whispered, mortified at the sight before him. 

Joel started to answer him but the sound of footsteps coming towards the door stopped him short. He looked down at the weapon in his hands, unsure of what to do with the evidence. With the proof of his guilt splattered over his chest, he knew that it didn’t take a genius to figure out who had killed the guard. Joel swallowed and made a snap decision, sliding the blade across the floor until it skidded into Jake’s cell. 

Jake’s eyes widened and Joel responded with a quick nod. The omega reached forward and snatched the blade, tucking it into his shirt before he scrambled back into the corner of his cell just as the guards marched in. 

There was some commotion at the dead guard. Men were running in and cursing at him for killing the man but he was somewhere else. It wasn’t until a set of hands pushed him from his cell that Joel realized how much shit he was in. He stumbled over the corpse and landed in the pool of blood that leaked from its side. Gagging at the stickiness coating his face, Joel tried to push himself off the floor and was knocked down by a boot to the ribs. 

Pain erupted from his chest and he wheezed at all of the air being forced out of him. As Joel tried to draw himself up from the concrete once more, he felt hands patting him down for weapons. They were particularly grabby and he growled at their invasiveness but the guards ignored him. Coming up empty, he was lifted by the men and dragged from the room. 

They didn’t even bother to cover his eyes this time. Instead, he was dragged out of the store into the streets with his view completely unobstructed. The stripmall was abandoned, leaving broken down stores that the group had shoddily remodeled into homes. The street was fenced in with bits of scrap metal, planks of wood and wire. It was a poor excuse for a perimeter, with the youngest alphas all seemingly forced to be on patrol duty for the camp. 

The stench that filled the streets made him gag again. It was sickly sweet and he grimaced at its familiarity as he was dragged past the source. Emaciated and tortured bodies were being thrown on a roaring fire. The skin bubbled with the heat and he gulped down vomit as he watched it melt off of the bone into the coals below. 

The guards dropped him and Joel balked at the sight of the store he was placed in front of. It was a women’s lingerie store with cursive lettering enticing potential clients to come in and look at their products. Dark fabric was placed over the glass door, hiding the contents from the outside world as the guard rapped his knuckles on it. 

They waited until the door flew open, revealing a very disheveled Paul with his fly hanging open. The alpha glared at the two guards before his eyes landed on Joel. 

“He fucking killed Mark, stabbed him with something but we couldn’t find it on him. What do you want us to do?”

The noises that came from inside were revolting and Joel craned his neck as far back as it would go to get away from it. The scent of the place alone was enough to make sweat break out on his forehead, nothing but the stench of distressed omegas and perverted alphas swirling in the air. Worst of all was that Paul stood proudly before all of it, grinning down at him from his place in the doorway. 

“Feeling handsy are we?,” Paul sneered at him. 

Joel scowled. There was no retort that would be strong enough to fully encompass the hate he felt for this man. 

“Mmmmm… Shame, I was just in the middle of the sweetest little thing but it's no matter,” he sighed wistfully. 

“You’re fucking sick,” Joel gritted out. 

Paul stooped down to meet his gaze, his breath soured with whatever liquor he had consumed. The only consolation to having the alpha this close was the fact that Joel could see the damage you had done to his face once more. The bruises hadn’t faded a bit. In fact, they looked worse now that the edges were turning green. 

“Look, I’m a little busy with her right now but I’ll send her down to see you soon. It’ll be a nice little family reunion. You can thank me later,” Paul said with a wink, nodding to the guards to drag him away once more. 

The guards cussed as Joel fought them every step of the way. Yelling and thrashing in their grasp, he used every bit of strength he had against them. Who did Paul mean? Were you here? The memory of Paul’s open fly and his smirking face made fury flare up inside of him. The group of alphas that transported him were forced to call for backup and the several men still barely managed to get him up the stairs, using all of their strengths to heave him into the top level of the store as he shouted profanities at them. 

They shoved him towards the hole in the floor, expecting him to fall back but Joel surprised them as he launched forward. His arms wrapped around the slowest looking one as he fell back, pulling the man right over the edge alongside him. The alpha thrashed mid air, unwittingly positioning himself to bear the brunt of Joel’s fall. 

A sickening crunch resounded throughout the room as the two landed. The sound of his skull hitting the pavement was akin to an egg being cracked open against a pan. Rolling off of the other man, Joel watched as blood poured from his nose and his body twitched. His life dripped from the back of his head until an endless gaze settled on the ceiling above. With the guard dead, Joel turned his eyes towards the towers of boxes surrounding him. His ears were peeled for any sign of danger. 

Most of the bodies had been rounded up to be burned, leaving only the biggest or messiest individuals to rot amongst the merchandise. Sickened by the smell, Joel lifted himself from the ground and crept along the outskirts of the room. He didn’t even try the double doors. After three trips in the arena, he understood that the key to the doors had to be earned through some act of violence. 

The first time it had been around the neck of a clicker. The second time they had given it to one of the prisoners, creating a wild goose chase for the poor beta who had alerted both the infected and the alphas by trying to unlock the doors immediately. The third time was the worst in his opinion, with the key hidden in the stomach of a runner. It had taken him a whole day to figure it out amongst the rotting bodies of the horde he had slashed through. 

After tripping over one of the bodies, he had been outraged as he spied the awful sewing job someone had done on its abdomen. Joel gagged at the memory, remembering how he had to wrap his arms in garbage bags to keep the infected tissue from tainting his skin as he fished them out. 

After circling the entirety of the room, Joel straightened up as he realized that he was alone. The fact that he had no opponents should have been comforting but instead he tensed up even more. Never had they sent him over the edge without anyone to fight and never had Paul threatened him in a more terrifying way. With his heart pounding in his chest, Joel placed himself with his back to the wall as he waited for what was to come. 

A shriek echoed from above and Joel saw the outline of a body fall to the floor in one of the aisles. He slinked towards the aisle, careful to keep his steps quiet as he pricked his ears for any sign of life. The closer he got, the more his heart rate picked up until he skidded to a stop in front of the shaking heap on the concrete. 

The scent was the first thing he noticed. It was almost overpowered with the smell of sweat and despair, but the underlying notes of jasmine and crisp apples still remained. Joel wasn’t sure how he knew this omega’s scent and it confused him. Pausing before the lump, he leaned down and carefully tried to turn the woman over. 

Her screech scared him and he jolted back, stumbling over himself until he fell back. Tailbone smacking against the floor, Joel groaned and cussed as the omega jumped to her feet. She shakily held a knife out in front of her and moved towards him, causing him to raise his hands in defeat. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya. If I - shit -  Look, I don’t even know where I know you from ma’am. I didn’t mean to get you sent down here, I swear,” Joel soothed. 

The woman glared at him, deepening all of the frown lines in her face. Her nose scrunched up and Joel racked his brain as a wave of familiarity washed over him. How did he know this woman? 

She looked to be the same age as him with streaks of gray throughout the mussed strands. Her eyes were sharp and framed with heavy bags but the shape of them made him cock his head. A heavy sense of deja vu was all he felt as he focused on them. 

“Why do you smell like her? Who are you?,” she hissed. 

Joel gawked but said nothing, which was clearly the wrong choice as the omega launched herself at him. He grunted as the weight of her body slammed into him. He held his hands up in defense just in time for her to slash into his fist. A gasp was all he managed before the woman reeled back to plunge the blade into him but Joel surprised her. 

Not wanting to hurt the feeble woman, he pinched the skin on her side between his fingers. The slip that barely covered her beaten body couldn’t guard her from the pinch and she whined in pain, reaching down to swat at Joel’s hand. With her distracted, he snatched the blade from her other hand and flipped her over. 

She thrashed beneath him, screaming the most proper insults he had ever heard. Never in his life had he been called an oaf in such a ruthless way. Without even having to ask, Joel knew that it had not been you that Paul threatened him with. The woman that fought against his hold was your mother. 

“STOP IT,” Joel roared, shaking her in his grasp until she stilled. 

She glared at him, poisoning him with her pointed gaze as he sighed. 

“I’m your daughter’s mate, okay? My name is Joel, Joel Miller. I ain’t gonna hurt you ma’am. M’trying to get to her before she gets herself killed, alright? Now stop fussin,” he scolded. 

A snort flew from her mouth as he stood up, backing away slowly to give her some room. 

“Ma’am? You look to be the same age as me,” she snapped, “Which leads me to my daughter, are you her mate or her keeper? Because the last time a keeper was chosen, I distinctly remember aiding in the escape. If she has only fallen into the hands of another then I fear it was all for nothing.” 

Joel shook his head, “M’not her keeper. She don’t belong to me or anyone else. I know that I ain’t exactly right for her but I-I love her, alright? I can’t explain it but I’m not like those men, I don’t - fuck - I would never hurt her.” 

A flash of something softened her eyes for a moment, making her appear more like you for just a moment before she hardened again. Joel sighed. He knew he needed her to trust him somewhat so that he could get them both out alive. 

“She claimed me first. I wanted to but I couldn’t until she did and she knew that ‘cus she loves me. Now, I don’t know why she loves me but she does. And I love her just the same,” he said with more confidence. 

The woman sighed and shook her head. 

“They told me that I needed to kill the alpha in here. If I did, they said they would let me out of the pleasure house. I could cook or clean instead of…”

Joel swallowed at the admission. He didn’t judge her for the way her eyes darted to the knife in his hand. If it had been him stuck in that god forsaken place, the knife would already be wedged in between the ribs of anyone that stood in his way. Carefully, he placed it on the ground and slid it over to her. She looked at it but didn’t move to pick it up. 

“And you believe them?,” Joel questioned. 

Sighing, your mother shook her head and dropped down onto the floor. She groaned at the effort as she scooted her back against the shelf. Joel hissed at the sight of handprints bruised up and down her legs. He couldn’t imagine the pain she had endured at the hands of these men. The thought of it made his skin crawl. 

“Mind your manners,” she scolded. 

Caught red handed, Joel moved his eyes away from her with his cheeks pink. He felt awful for gawking at her in such a vulnerable state. 

“Apologies ma’am,” he stammered, carefully easing his coat off to hand it to her. 

Joel kept his gaze elsewhere as your mother wrapped herself in his coat. The bulky fabric did more to cover her than the slip did and he could sense the tension in the air dissipate slightly.  

He wasn’t sure why, but the tiny bruised woman sat beside him was somehow the most intimidating person he had ever met. She exuded resentfulness, with a bitter pinch to her features constantly set in place. Unwilling to look at her again, he scanned the room for anything to help them escape. 

“How was she? Before Paul came for her I mean, how was she? Was she… well?”

Joel turned at the question, opening his mouth for a moment before he snapped it shut. He knew that your mother, despite all of her mistakes, must have loved you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have aided in your runaway bride act. Still, it surprised him that she would ask him about you while in such a dangerous place. 

“She was okay, happy. WE were happy,” he tried. 

Seeing the unsatisfied look on her face, Joel searched his mind for another answer. Laughing when he found it, he couldn’t help but smile as he continued. 

“She had started drawing but it always turned out super warped. Like, psychedelic almost. I don’t know for sure but I think she was only doing it because she knew they made me laugh.” 

The wonky cat above his nightstand at home flashed before his eyes and Joel sucked down air, trying to focus on the present to keep himself from crying. 

“And you… You cared for her too?” 

Joel nodded thoughtfully, “I tried to, I AM trying to, as hard as I can.” 

Nodding, your mother made an affirmative noise and leaned back once more. She looked slightly less peeved, with the crease still present between her eyebrows but her shoulders relaxed. Joel decided to count it as a win. 

“She gets that from her father. Not Josiah of course but her ACTUAL father. He was light and soft, like her. I tried to make her tough but it only backfired. She hated me but what was I supposed to do? They would have had her hung if they knew,” she sighed. 

Joel blinked, “Knew what?”

“That her father was a Jew. That alone would have ensured her damnation in their eyes. Aside from that, I never told Josiah or her that her father and I never married. We were mated so marriage seemed pointless but again, they killed bastards in that community, so…” 

“So she had to be perfect,” he answered. 

She nodded, “I might have been cruel but I was not without my reasons.” 

He hummed at her words. It wasn’t as if he completely agreed with her actions but he understood the fear involved with trying to keep a child safe in this world. Perhaps her cruelty was just a means to an end, a way to keep you alive. Joel completely understood where she was coming from but he still bristled at the lengths she went to achieve her goals. 

Ma’am-,” he started. 

“You can call me Mrs. Y/L/N, nothing more. It is not correct to keep calling your mother in law ma’am after we have already been acquainted,” she snipped. 

Joel wondered if he should correct her. You were mated and that was as good as any ceremony in the eyes of any potential suitors, with his scent covering your own for the rest of your life but that didn’t mean that the two of you were married. Joel hadn’t even thought about it and you had never mentioned it to him. Still, with the strict guidelines that your mother was used to in her previous community, he felt that bringing it up may sour things between them prematurely. 

“Is… I mean, was that her last name too?,” he asked dumbly. 

“You claimed my daughter and you don’t even know her last name?!”

Joel cringed at the reaction. It became clear to him that admitting he didn’t know your last name was not the smartest thing to do either and he kicked himself for it. Before he could diffuse the explosion of rage that pushed your mother from the floor and into his personal space, the click of the lock forced the both of them to turn towards the doors. 

Light poured into the space, blinding Joel for a moment as a figure hobbled in. After blinking a few times, his vision cleared and Jake appeared before them. 

“Jacob?!,” the omega at his feet screeched, turning in an instant to launch herself at the younger man. 

Jake gasped as she crushed his body against her own, blanching at the affectionate embrace. Given the reaction of the younger man and all of the stories he had heard about her, Joel gathered that this was not a regular occurrence. He tolerated the hug for a moment, even awkwardly patting her on the back a few times before he withdrew. 

“Your daughter, I met her. She’s so sweet that one and I promise, I-I do everything I can when they bring her,” she stammered. 

Jake gasped, “You’ve seen Allie?!” 

Your mother nodded, “Paul brings her sometimes, drops her off with me and the other omegas. She is such a darling Jake, they all love her.” 

“They bring the kid to the pleasure house?,” Joel wondered aloud. 

Panic broke out on Jake’s face and Joel cringed as your mother turned to glare at him. 

“Don’t be ridiculous Joel. They don’t keep us there all the time. He brings her to the place we sleep whenever Cooper gets too close to finding her. Once he lays off, Paul takes her back to wherever she was before,” she explained. 

A gust of air left the omega’s mouth at the admission, the worst fears being washed away and releasing the tension from his shoulders. Jake shook his head as his worst fears left him, rubbing his eyes tiredly before he looked back up again. 

“We have to go, right now. Cooper released the prisoners and they are burning this place to the ground. Quick, there’s not much time,” Jake urged. 

The two omegas took off and Joel stumbled after them, mind reeling with a million questions. The muscles in his legs ached as they bounded up the staircase but he ignored it, focusing on keeping his head clear as he followed Jake towards the exit. 

Just as the key slipped into the door, it was ripped open and Joel shoved the two omegas behind his back. Puffing up his chest and barring his teeth, he was met with the sight of a bloodied Cooper holding a very teary eyed toddler in his grasp. The younger alpha winced at his stance and hugged the girl tighter to his chest, making Joel relax immediately in response. 

“Oh my baby,” Jake cried out, bypassing Joel completely to pluck his daughter from his mate’s hands. 

Allie threw her chubby arms around his neck, blubbering nonsense into his ear as he cooed at her. The moment was heartwarming but it also had to be cut short given the circumstance. 

“We have to get out of here. Paul is fucking gone but this place has gone nuts. Keep your heads down and follow me, okay?,” Cooper paused until the group nodded, “J? You got her or do you need me to carry her?”

Jake shook his head and squeezed Allie closer, “I’m not going to let her go Coop, I promise.” 

They shared a look before Cooper nodded, turning on his heel to lead them towards the exit. Joel’s heart slammed against his chest as he walked along the edges of the ground floor. The anarchy he heard from outside set him on edge. The smell of smoke and the sound of screams overwhelmed his senses. Nothing could have prepared Joel for the scene that played out in front of him as he exited the arena. 

Freed prisoners sprinted away from their captors, only for the alpha chasing them to be struck down by another newly freed individual. Most of the buildings were consumed by flames, with the untouched ones being licked at by the blaze. He watched as omegas and betas tore through the street, crawling under the wire to get to freedom. Overwhelmed alphas tried to shoot them down as they rushed through their defense. Half of them missed the moving targets and ran from their position, while the other half were knocked down and trampled by the survivors.

“LET’S FUCKING GO!,” Cooper yelled over the chaos, rushing in the other direction. 

The group followed closely behind, dodging distressed camp members and traumatized prisoners as they ran. Joel watched as Jake shoved his daughter’s face into his chest, shielding her from the world as they raced towards the final exit. She fought weakly against him but he murmured softly in her ear as he ran, calming her down enough that she stayed put. 

Despite the fact that his lungs burned from the exertion, Joel kept his pace until your mother stumbled and fell. Cooper and Jake stopped, yelling at the woman to get up as she struggled to her feet. She tried twice and then fell, much too weak to stand up by herself any longer. 

“We have to go!,” Jake cried out in a panic. 

Joel debated for a moment before he stooped down to lift her in his arms. She squawked and kicked out her legs, yelling at him to put her down but he ignored her, nodding at the others to continue. 

“Hush up right now unless you want me to leave ya behind,” he snapped as frustration overcame his patience. 

Joel would never do that but she didn’t have to know that. All he needed was for her to allow him to help her but she was making it incredibly difficult. If threats were the way to make her shut up, then threats it would be. 

“You are a mindless brute! I don’t know what my daughter sees in you but put me down now!” 

Annoyed at the cantankerous woman that sat in his arms, Joel glared down at her as he resumed his pace. 

“From what I hear, you’re not such a walk in the park either lady. If you were anyone else, I’d leave ya here but luckily you’re my mate’s mother. Now shut the fuck up and survive this with me so that I don’t have to explain to your daughter why I let you die,” he seethed. 

Her eyes widened at his sharp words before she nodded once and relented, staying silent as the crew raced towards an opening in the fence. Jake squeezed through first, holding the back of Allie’s head as he crawled through the space. Next went your mother, who required a helpful hand on both sides to make her way through. Then Cooper, who went through with ease before it was Joel’s turn. 

The cracking in his knees made him groan as he made his way to the other side but he managed to slip most of the way through the hole before he felt a hand grasp his ankle. Joel turned over onto his back, only to see the face of an infected clawing at his boot. He gasped and kicked it in the face, scrambling through the last few inches to burst out the other side. 

“Infected coming!,” Joel shouted as he scooped up your mother, making the entire group hasten their pace. 

Looking back, he saw the face he had kicked crawling under the metal. Judging by the hands that reached out front around the edges, Joel had a feeling there was more to come. 

“What’s the plan here guys?,” he panted, his breathing no more than wheezes as he tried to keep up with the younger men. 

Cooper pointed his finger at a rusted sunfire and tossed him the keys, the group quickening their pace once more as a roar tore through the air. Joel didn’t need to look back to know that sound. Any shoddily made barrier would be no use for a bloater and as the beast slammed itself against the wall, everyone threw themselves into the vehicle. 

Joel tried the ignition once as the first layer of barrier collapsed. 

“Come on, come on, come on, come on,” he mumbled to himself as he tried again to no avail. 

“Flick the headlights on and off, that might give it some juice,” Cooper called. 

The woman to his right scoffed, “That’s a myth.”

“And how would you know? I’ve never even seen you drive,” Cooper sassed right back. 

“I’ll have you know little boy, that I had a full license and was driving before you were even a thought so why don’t you-” 

“SHUT UP!,” Joel shouted as the last bit of barrier broke down, revealing a bloated body that was running towards them. 

A horde of infected, some newer and some gnarled with age, stumbled in pursuit of the giant. He swore and tried again, holding his breath until the car finally turned on. With the infected hot on their tail, Joel slammed his foot all the way to the floor and sped off. He grimaced at the burst of cordyceps that the bloater flung to his right, jerking to the side of the road before he righted the car once more. The next burst of infection exploded somewhere behind them, the distance between them too great for it to be of any danger and finally Joel relaxed in his seat. 

“Is everyone okay?,” Cooper asked. 

Given the frantic hands that poked and prodded at Allie in the rearview mirror, Joel figured that question was not for him or your mother.  

Jake sighed, “We’re okay Coop, aren’t we Allie-girl?”

The little girl sprung up from her father’s chest, gurgling in response and hooking her fingers around her other father’s finger. Cooper visibly relaxed, falling back against the seat before he scooched closer to his mate. Joel looked away, letting them have a moment as he looked over at the passenger seat. 

Your mother sat ramrod straight, with her chin lifted high in the air. Even with all of her injuries, she remained almost regal in the way she presented herself and turned to glare at him for his gaze. Joel sighed and looked forward, keeping his eyes on the road instead. 

There would be no winning her over until you were found and Joel didn’t blame her for it. If Sarah or Ellie had been missing only for an older alpha to show up unannounced, apparently bonded with one of them, he would have reacted way worse. The nasty looks were, if anything, a courtesy. 

An hour of driving passed before Cooper directed him towards a side road, bringing the car down a terribly shoveled entrance before an old house came into view. Joel pulled the car up and parked, keeping the engine idling as he turned towards the other alpha with an eyebrow raised. 

“Come on, you three out while me and Joel have a little chat,” Cooper said carefully, never breaking eye contact with him. 

Your mother sighed and left the vehicle without another word, too tired to fight against the men around her anymore. She heaved herself up and moved towards the front door, hobbling off until her figure disappeared from the doorway. 

“I’m not getting out unless you tell me what it is that you’re going t-” Jake started. 

“Out of the car and into the house with our daughter. Right now. I am not asking,” Cooper demanded, his clipped tone leaving no room for retort. 

Joel winced at the way Jake balked and heeded his request, leaving the car with the little girl on his hip. He looked back at the car only once before he frowned and followed your mother’s path inside. Cooper sighed when Jake was gone and rubbed at his eyes. He exited the car as well, rounding the front of it to plop himself into the passenger seat. When the door slammed shut, the alpha turned himself towards Joel and began. 

“About 50 clicks south is where our old camp was. I can’t be sure but if I know my brother, that’s where he is taking her. Go down the old service exit before I-80. If you go now, maybe you can save her. I don’t care that she asked me not to, I would want to know,” Cooper rushed out while twisting his hands together. 

Joel froze. 

“Who has her? Wha- What did she ask? I-I don’t,” he sputtered as his heart lurched in his chest. 

“I found Allie and I went to get her but they caught me,” he winced at memory, “She busted in and saved me. I tried to get her to come with, but she wouldn’t listen. She said it wouldn’t end unless she went to him and made me promise that I wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

The world crashed down around him. Paul had you. He had you and he had taken you somewhere 50 kilometers south. All of Joel’s worst fears had come to life. You were going to sacrifice yourself for the safety of everyone else. Memories of a hospital and a little girl who wanted to save the world with her gift flooded his mind, drawing out a sharp gasp from Joel as he clutched at his chest. 

Joel felt so many things, with anger being the first. He was selfishly mad at you for allowing yourself to be taken rather than sacrificing others. Then he felt guilty at that, knowing that it was against your character to ever let harm come to those that you loved. But he was also angered by the alpha that sat beside him for leaving you behind. 

“Don’t look at me like that when I know that if you were in my position, you would’ve done the same. I am not going to sacrifice my daughter for her or anyone else,” he argued. 

Straightening his back at the statement, Joel nodded once in response and motioned for him to leave. 

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m really fucking sorry. I don’t even know what we are going to do now but I have my own family. There is a mate in there that I don’t deserve and a pup that needs me. You have to understand that,” Cooper tried.

Joel sighed and shook his head of the bitterness that seeped in from the corners of his mind.  

“Leave Montana, head into Wyoming and go to Jackson county. My brother’s wife runs a spot up that way, they’d take you in. Tell them that I sent ya. Well, tell Tommy I sent you, not Maria.” 

The thank you was stopped midway by Joel holding up his hand. Cooper nodded and stepped out, wishing him luck as he slammed the door shut behind him. Deep down, he didn’t blame the man for picking his family. Cooper was right, Joel would have done the same in a heartbeat if it had come down to them or you. However, with his mate trapped somewhere alone with a psychopath, Joel didn’t spare him a second glance as he sped off once more. 

Panic bleached his mind of any substantial thoughts and he remained relatively silent as he sped through the streets. The beast within had roared to life and demanded blood, making him tighten his grasp on the wheel until the leather creaked. Flashes of memories, all involving you, were the only things that kept him somewhat human. 

His pulse quickened as he neared your former camp. Sweat dripped down Joel’s face and he noticed that his hands were shaky as he pulled off into the service exit. The fear was overwhelming. Were you alive? Were you hurt? Were you even at the camp? Swallowing every bit of panic that tightened his chest, Joel pressed on towards the clearing before him. 

 - You - 

“I’m not telling you fuck all bitch.”

A cackle echoed throughout the clearing, reverberating off the ice covered trees until it shot back to reach your ears. 

“Oh, I know. That’s not what this is about,” you chuckled, dragging the blade across the other cheek as the man groaned in pain. 

Blood beaded from the slash before it dripped down his cheek. Amused, you watched him thrash against the zip ties for a moment before you stepped back. Red faced and panting, the man called out for you as you stepped away from him. 

“Hey! You can’t just leave me here!,” the alpha yelled. 

Another bout of laughter tore from your mouth as you grasped the hilt of the blade and pulled, tearing it from the chest of his deceased comrade. From somewhere behind you, a twig snapped and you smiled at the sound. 

“I can and I will. They’ll find what’s left of you in a couple days. If you’re lucky maybe they’ll even put a bullet between your eyes. Some of your brothers haven’t been so lucky,” you chuckled and nodded towards the sound of shuffling feet, “Horde just keeps on growing.” 

Without another word, you ignored his cries for mercy as you turned into the trees. The alpha’s insults quickly turned into screams. The sound of a body being torn apart by infected quickened your pace. As swiftly as possible, you scrambled into the cab of the truck and pulled away from the clearing as they finished off your opponent. 

It had been like this for days. After a couple of hours on the road, you had found the first look out and scoped it out. The guards patrolled mostly during the night and kept their weakest alphas on guard during the day while the others slept. Understanding this, you parked in a patch of trees down the road and waited for the right moment. The minute the guards switched out, you were slinking around the perimeter to take out the three men that patrolled the abandoned gas station. 

Thinking back as you drove through the quiet roads, you remembered how surprised the sleeping alphas looked when they had awoken to the feeling of a knife plunged into their chests. Some of them tried to scream but you had gagged them with cloth. It was amazing how much you could accomplish while your opponents slept. Seven alphas were killed at that first stop. You felt absolutely nothing as you watched them die, only a sense of determination to get to your mate. 

Countless men and women had died at your hands since that day, all of them guilty of being associated with the man that had your alpha. It was on the fourth day on the road that you had stumbled across the camp. You had to stop yourself from running towards the strip mall when you saw it. A pang of recognition jolted through the bond at the sight of the repurposed shops, the mark on your neck aching as you overlooked the town that held the man you searched for. 

It was only when you watched a set of guards drag a broad shouldered man from the back of the store and up a set of stairs that you knew for sure. Joel fought against them and you had watched, heart aching at the blood splattered across his clothes and the hood over his face. You had grasped the gun in your waistband, weighing your options before you let it go. 

They might shoot him if you didn’t kill them and even still, you weren’t entirely sure you had the strength to rush the place without the proper fire power. Plus, what if you missed and hit him instead? Joel was dragged up a set of stairs and into another store, while you were forced to do nothing but watch. 

“I’m coming,” you whispered to the air, hoping that it would carry and somehow reach only his ears. 

In the next few days, you had amped up your game. Somewhere between the first outpost and the camp itself was no man’s land, where Paul’s group had left the infected to act as an impromptu defense for them. Leading them towards the camp, you had been the cause of much confusion amongst the alphas. Some bodies you left like a present at their doorstep, mocking them with their mutilated corpses. While others you left trussed up amongst the trees for the infected to find, leaving the group with a growing horde to deal with. 

When you weren’t hunting down the alphas, a handful of houses were scattered around the camp and served as impromptu safe havens for you intermittently. You never went inside, knowing that the second you stepped in that the patrol might catch your scent the next day. Instead, you parked somewhere and rested in the truck for a few hours before heading back to work.

As the days passed, you had slain a good portion of the population but still could not get any closer to infiltrating the space. The guards that patrolled the perimeter were younger and likely greener, but were frustratingly vigilant as they walked along the rickety fence. There were a few holes in the perimeter but you weren’t confident that you would be able to sneak into the store they continuously dragged Joel back to without one of them catching you. 

If you were caught, you knew where they would send you. The lingerie store was frequented by all of the alphas, except for a couple of them that seemed to prefer guard duty over whatever went on in the establishment. Given the screaming omegas that they dragged into the back of the store and the smirking alphas that left out of the front, you had a good guess as to what went on. 

Exhaustion pulled at your eyelids at the thought of it and you sighed, knowing that you needed to rest. Pain radiated from the cuts and bruises that covered your body but you didn’t care. Some of them would scar, especially the wound that cracked open on your cheek with every smile. The owner of the truck had given you that one, her fists slamming into your face until you plunged the blade into her gut. Again, you didn’t mind. It would all be worth it to see Joel’s face again. 

Pulling off of the main road, the truck rumbled down a side street towards the house you had chosen for your nap. Driving closer to the house, you pumped the brakes at the sight of a fresh set of tire tracks in the snow. The truck stopped as you threw it in park, debating for a moment before you shut it off and slipped from the cab. 

Holding the gun close to your chest, you moved into the surrounding trees. With the vegetation acting as a cover, you stepped towards the back of the home only to be greeted with the sight of a group of alphas standing over a beaten man. The sight could have been disregarded if any other man had laid bleeding against the ground, but it was Cooper that gasped for air as a woman kicked him in the ribs. 

“Please! Please stop - fuck!,” Cooper groaned as another boot knocked him from his hands and knees. 

You paused from your place in the trees. Sure, the alpha was not your favorite person but he meant something to Jake. This was his husband, his mate. The mark that your best friend had claimed Cooper with glared at you from above his collar, judging you for thinking about walking away from the scene. A plethora of whispered swears poured from your lips as you watched the group laugh. 

The memory of him allowing you to slam a pot over his head as a guise to escape flashed through your mind. 

“Fucking hell,” you swore, realizing that there was no way that you could walk away from this.  

Four alphas surrounded Cooper, the group snickered as the largest one taunted him. Removing the magazine from the pistol, you counted six bullets left. Since leaving the cabin, your aim had gotten astronomically better but it still left something to be desired. Plus, using all six of your bullets to only possibly kill four alphas was not viable. 

“Just wait until your brother gets here you punk,” the woman spat, “Always knew you were a traitor, hiding your omega from us then conveniently losing the other one when nobody was there to see it. You’re a pussy. Better the kid stays with Paul, maybe she’ll learn her damn place.” 

Cooper growled ferally as he clutched his side, “Don’t you fucking dare bring my kid into this. I will f- oomph.” 

The hand wrenching his head back cut him off, making Cooper whine as his mousy strands were yanked back harshly. The other alpha met his gaze, smiling at the discomfort on his face before another vehicle made its way up towards the house. 

“Looks like your time is up traitor. Doubt big brother is gonna bail you out this time, not when you have been trying to cover up the bitch’s tracks for days.” 

Cooper didn’t say anything. Instead, he bowed his head at the statement, thus proving his own guilt in the matter. You were surprised but it made sense. For days you had been slaughtering their guards or leaving them to be infected in the woods but only the few bodies ever seemed to make it back to them. 

After you had reached double digits in your murder spree, you began to question their patrolling abilities. However, with Cooper’s wordless admission, you realized that their bodies had been hidden by the partner in crime that you didn’t even know you had. 

“What’s this?”

Paul rounded the corner of the home, peering down at his brother as he kneeled on the cold ground. His face showed no emotion towards Cooper’s beaten face, only a look of boredom as he strolled towards the group. 

The alpha that stood over Cooper smiled at Paul, “Asshole finally found the kid, too bad we found a couple of bodies in the trunk when we seared it. Seems our friend here has been using his free time to help out your little slut.” 

A scowl tightened Paul’s face and he stooped down in front of the injured alpha. Cooper flinched at the proximity, his face pale as his brother leered at him. 

“Is that true baby brother? After all I’ve done for you?,” he tsked. 

Cooper’s face snapped up and you were shocked by the uncharacteristically cold glare that hardened his features. 

“All you’ve done?,” he chuckled and shook his head, “And what is that Paul? You have taken everything from me. My daughter, my mate, my life. Even Sophie, our own baby sister, our blood, wasn’t safe from you, was she?” 

Paul reached down, snatching Cooper’s face in his hands and you winced at the way his fingers dug into his skin. 

“You watch it Coop, wouldn’t want to have to teach ya another lesson,” he warned.  

Cooper laughed, “Funny, Sophie used to get lessons too. Maybe that’s why she decided to throw herself off that building. Ya know, you talk a big game about protecting what’s yours but I don’t think you have any idea what it means to care for anything. There’s only one thing you want.” 

“And what’s that?”

“You just want to be the big man like dad,” you watched as Paul’s jaw twitched at Cooper’s words,“Does it make you feel strong to be like him? Does it make you forget what it feels like to be on the other side? Maybe if you hurt enough people, you’ll forget about what he did, huh?” 

Shock was all you felt as Paul slammed his fist into his brother’s nose, making blood pour from it as Cooper groaned in pain. Another punch came down and slammed into his cheek. Then another and another, until the younger man was sprawled out against the snow. Despite the blows, the smile on his face was unmistakable as his brother wailed on him. Paul might have overpowered him but Cooper had read the man so accurately that it had made him lose his nerve. 

Taking a moment to gather himself, you watched as Paul smoothed out the front of his jacket and cleared his throat before turning towards his group. 

“Take him inside. Tie him up in the basement, if he even thinks about escaping you shoot him down. Both of you,” Paul nodded towards the biggest in the group, “With me. If they were working together then she’ll be somewhere close. Let’s go.” 

Two of the men dragged a barely conscious Cooper into the house, hauling him up the steps as the rest of the group piled into Paul’s car. You waited until it drove off, watching until it disappeared. 

As quietly as possible, you crept towards the building and eased yourself into the house. The alphas were nowhere to be seen, likely in the basement with a semi conscious Cooper as you moved throughout the living room. An open doorway led towards the basement but you dodged it and disappeared into one of the bedrooms to wait. The plan was to hide in the bedroom until the alphas re-emerged. You were going to creep downstairs in order to free Cooper but the plan was foiled when the babbling of a small child made you spin around. 

A little girl dressed in a tattered jumper and sesame street pj pants smiled at you from the confines of an ancient playpen. There was no mistaking whose child she was. The golden skin and glossy ringlets made your chest pang, seeing bits of your best friend as you looked upon his daughter. The color was off, closer to Cooper’s light brown, but they still shined in the light like Jake’s did. 

The brightness in her green eyes astounded you and you wondered if the man she got them from had ever been as happy as her. From what had been said outside in the snow, you doubted it. Her mouth seemed perpetually upturned in a smirk, just like Jake, and you smiled as she reached her hands out to you. Slowly, you moved towards her and plucked her from the playpen. 

“Hi baby,” you whispered, “You must be Allie. I’m Ja- I’m your dad’s friend, it’s nice to meet you.” 

Allie blinked up at you and smiled brightly, seemingly unbothered by the fact that a complete stranger held her. She continued to babble, gesturing wildly with her hands as she answered you in her own way. You bit back a laugh, seeing nothing but Jake as she gave an explanation that was complete nonsense but still dramatic as hell. Her words meant nothing, but the tone of Allie’s voice was chalk full of sass. 

“Tell me about it,” you sighed and Allie nodded as if she understood. 

A pair of footsteps walking up the steps popped the bubble of warmth in the child’s room and you panicked. There was no way you wanted to confront these men in front of Allie, but you needed to get her father out of the basement. You gulped and placed the girl back in her playpen carefully. She whined, trying to get you to pick her back up as she began to cry and your heart broke. 

Nobody in Paul’s group seemed like they would be caring enough to look after the child. That meant that she had probably been alone in different rooms since being separated from her parents. You wondered how Allie had remained so cheerful despite her isolation. That was no way for a child to live. Fat tears dripped down her cheeks as her lower lip trembled and you brushed the curls from her face. 

“Shhhh Allie, it’s okay. I’m gonna go get your papa okay? Stay right here baby, I’ll be right back and then we’ll go get your other daddy,” you soothed. 

Allie sniffed and nodded, babbling more jumbled nonsense that sounded vaguely like an affirmation. You leaned down and kissed the top of her head, smiling at her again before you slipped out of the room. 

The house was still but you kept your ears peeled as you moved towards the basement. Just as you reached the stairs, a door clicked behind you and you wheeled around. The alpha that stepped from the bathroom looked more surprised than you, stumbling back against the wall as you reached towards your waistband. Before he had the chance to grab his own, your gun was already out, firing two shots into his chest. 

The other guard yelled out for his partner from outside and you swore, hurrying into the kitchen and hiding behind the island as the alpha raced into the house. The man tore through the place, completely unaware that he had bypassed your hidden figure to get to the dying man. He stooped down in front of the alpha, questioning him as redness seeped into the fabric of his shirt. It was no use, the alpha was too weak to answer as he drowned from the blood filling his lungs. 

The final breath rattled out of the man’s chest and his body stilled, causing the other man to swear. The remaining alpha hung his head for a moment, still unaware of your presence as you switched out the gun for a knife. It was quieter and you had more experience with it. Almost hovering over him, it was the creak of a floorboard that gave you away. 

The alpha’s head snapped up and you gasped as he whipped the gun from its holster in a flash. The shot rang out and you could’ve sworn you heard it as the bullet grazed the side of your head. The force of it buckled your knees, making you fall to the floor in shock as the excruciating sensation forced tears from your eyes. Blood poured from the area and you whined as the red liquid dripped into your eyes, blurring your field of vision while you tried to lift yourself from your stomach. 

Dizzied from the shot, you struggled to get your bearings and were knocked back down by the man. You screamed as he kneeled against your back to keep you down, the sound being cut off as he put more weight into his hold. With your lungs crushed, you coughed and struggled against him. 

“Oh you’re in trouble now baby,” he chuckled, running a heavy hand down your backside. 

The feeling of it was revolting and you tried uselessly to buck him off. The alpha laughed at your protests, unperturbed as he fiddled with the waistline of your baggy jeans. This was it, you thought, this was the end. Dread filled you as you felt fingers dip under your shirt. 

“I will say. The amount of us you’ve taken out has been quite impressive,” he pinched your hip and you whined, “You’ve become a sort of white whale for us all. Can’t believe I get to be Captain Ahab.” 

You laughed, remembering yourself with his stupid statement. 

This man was nothing. All he wanted from you was fear, that’s all men like him ever wanted from omegas. Understanding this, you laughed harder despite the weight pressing you into the floorboards. A growl came from behind and the man flipped you over, glaring down at you as you continued to giggle. 

“The fuck is so funny?,” he snapped. 

“Moby Dick bites off Captain Ahab’s leg you fucking idiot. The whale kills everyone except for Ishmael and survives the crew hunting him. So according to your own metaphor, I’m going to kill you,” you laughed, wriggling your arm from under him to rip the gun from his grasp. 

The man reached forward to take it back but you were too quick, pressing the barrel of it against his gut and firing another shot into his stomach. He groaned as he bled out onto your clothes and you shoved him off. The man held the hole in his stomach closed with one hand and you sighed. Reaching backwards for your knife, you grabbed it and slid it across his neck. He bled out in seconds. 

Rolling away from the mess, you groggily got to your feet and stumbled towards the basement. From somewhere in the distance, you heard the sound of Allie crying but you ignored it. The sight of your bleeding face would only make it worse, so you trudged towards the person who might be able to comfort her. 

The basement was freezing with dripping ceilings and unfinished floors. You hobbled into the space, ears ringing as you moved towards the alpha that was tied to the chair. Cooper was unconscious, or at least he seemed to be, and you paused to collect yourself. 

Nausea forced vomit up from your mouth and you retched, puking onto the concrete before him. Bits of it splattered against your pants. You groaned and swayed on your feet while holding the bleeding graze mark on the side of your head. Breathing in deeply, you slapped at your cheeks to keep yourself alert. 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?,” Cooper called out. 

You laughed, spitting out the remainder of it from your mouth before you smiled back up at him. 

“Should see the other guy,” you coughed, spitting up blood as you kneeled beside the chair. 

As quickly as you could, the ties around his wrists were loosened until Cooper could break free. He gently pushed your shaky hands away, reaching down to speedily work his feet out of the restraints. You sat back and watched through bleary eyes. Cooper spoke to you as he released himself from the chair but his words were faraway. Everything was distorted, like you were seeing the world through one of those funhouse mirrors at the carnivals your father used to take you to. 

“Hey! I said, is my daughter okay? Did you see her?!,” he asked, shaking your shoulders to break you from the haze. 

You swallowed down more puke from the sudden movement, “She’s fine. Upstairs in the playpen. She - Look, I don’t even think she’s old enough to know what’s going on.”

Cooper nodded, looking relieved as he helped you to your feet. You expected him to drop his hold on your arm but instead he tightened it, leading you from the basement and towards Allie once more. You stumbled after him, delirious from the blow to your head as Cooper dragged you behind him. 

“Allie-girl! How are you honey, Papa missed you,” he cooed as he entered the room, swooping down to gather his daughter in his arms. 

You leaned against the doorframe, lowering yourself onto your bum and hugging your knees. Queasiness filled your mouth with water and you turned your face away, emptying the contents of your stomach once more until only bile remained. 

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 

Suddenly, the cooing and soft words halted. The vibe of the room shifted and Cooper swore as he peered out of the curtains. Even in your disjointed state, you could tell that whatever he saw wasn’t good. Slowly, you stood up and followed his gaze out the window. 

In the driveway, Paul shoved the door of the car closed behind him. He stopped and began to dig through the backseat of his car as the two of you watched. 

The alpha beside you looked terrified. Any confidence he had previously was lost with his pup in his arms. Allie’s hands smacked against his chest, trying to get her father’s attention as sweat dampened his hairline. Cooper’s face was as white as a ghost as he watched his brother walk towards the house.  

You swallowed the lump in your throat, realizing what you had to do. He couldn’t bear the weight of this for you, nobody could. It was time to face your demons. 

“Take her out the window. Go back to camp and get everyone out, then leave. I’ll hold him off,” you instructed. 

“What?!” 

You shook your head at his incredulous reply, “Paul isn’t going to stop until he has me, so I’m going to give him what he wants. Just… Just promise me you’ll take Joel when you get Jake out. Tell him I love him. And please Cooper, don’t tell him what I’ve done.”  

Cooper shook his head wildly, hugging his daughter closer to his chest as you backtracked towards the hallway. He stepped forward to grab your arm and you whirled around, glaring at him before he could touch you. 

“Joel Miller is the best person I know, okay? And I dragged him into this. Fuck, I-I dragged you all into this. Which means it’s up to me to finish it, alright? Whatever happens just… Just please get him out without telling him what happened here. He’ll come after me and I can’t - fuck - I can’t be the reason for anyone else’s pain anymore,” you pleaded desperately. 

Looking over his shoulder, you saw that Paul was almost all the way to the front door. Cooper stood still, torn as you mouthed the word please. Allie babbled in his arms and he looked down at her for a moment before he looked back up at you with his mind made. Slowly, he swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, turning away from Cooper and Allie to march towards the front door. 

This was it. Everything that you had been through culminated in this moment. You thought back to your first week at Josiah’s camp. Paul was there, although a young man, and he had leered at you from the barn as you played with Jake outside. Flipping forward, you thought of your wedding day. He had looked victorious as Josiah dragged you down the aisle, like a hunter who had caught his prey. It was the same look Paul had given you when you were caught outside the diner. 

Would he look at you like that again as you opened the door? You didn’t care. The thought of his gaze didn’t hold the same effect it once had. You had grown and now, as you gripped the handle with steady hands, there was no fear as you stepped out into the afternoon sun. 

[queensilber]

Supernatural: Witch‘s Canyon

Posting everything in this book that i think you need to know, lets go!

Summary:

Okay, so, the boys head to the Grand Canyon to solve a case of a fourty-year murder cycle. The spirits of variouse humans and animals alike attack the locals and they need to find out why and how to stop it.

It is set somewhere in Season two.

My opinion:

This was so much fun. Like, it was really like watching an episode, just a lot longer and with the magic ability to see into Sam and Deans (and a bunch of other characters) heads.

It also gave a little bit of a fanfiction vibe, just with the addidtion that everything is cannon and that all the random little facts and quotes are a real thing (i‘ll list those in a second)

And also there were flashbacks of their childhood??? That made me cry??? I hated john winchester before, but now even more so. (More about the flashbacks below too)

So yea, it was definetly worth it and i cant wait to read the others!!

Songs:

This is the music Sam and Dean listened to during the course of the book (some locals listened to music too, but i did not list those)

- „paranoid“ by Black Sabbath

- „turn the page“ by Bob Seger

- unspecified tape by Bad Company

Flashbacks:

There are two flashbacks to Sam and Dean‘s Childhood:

- the first one is Dean Remembering a time when John made him and Sam run through an obstacle course at age twelve and eight. Dean had to shoot a gun during it, Sam just had to point and yell „Bang!“.

In the process of that Sam got injured and cried and John yelled at him to keep going and that he was doing poorly. Dean comforted his brother and encouraged him, leading to sam actually making it. Sam did it and Dean cheered, but john kept yelling at them to keep going to the next obstacle.

- the second one was from when Dean was fourteen and Sam was ten. Their Dad gave them backbags and said what was in them could last them fir four days and they all went on a hike together.

In the middle of nowhere john then saud that they should not trust anyone on what they are told and left them alone, telling them that they should find their way (at very least two days of walk) back themsleves and they shouldnt have relied on him so much and he just… left.

When they checked their backbags they found that most in it was useless and they were also filled with rocks to make it seem like it was more than it was.

Thats so fucked up, like

Those are children. And the worst part, when Dean rememvers this he thinks of it almost positively because it taught him a valuable lesson. I cant even begin to describe how my heart hurt for them.

Random facts:

Here are some facts from the book, i do t know anymor if those are mentioned in the show too, but it hardly matters, i think:

- Sam outgrew Dean at the age of 16

- Dean felt gutity over Jessicas death and thought that it was a „more solid basis“ of guilt than Sam had on the matter

- Sam can differentiate between uniforms of different wars in history just by a look

- Dean hates Rats. A lot.

Quotes:

Some quotes from the book:

John Winchester hunted monsters, ghosts, demons — the creatures most people only believed in deep down in their 3:00 am hearts, abd that they laughted off when the sun was bright and their spirits high.

It was a habit Dean had picked up from Dad — reffering to what they did as a „job“. To Sam it was nore of a Mission, even a calling.

„Sammy really likes cops,“ Dean said. „If he didnt have any talents he might have become one“

Sometimes he thought Dean wouldnt mind dying if he could go out in a blaze of glory, as the saying went. In moments of fairness, Sam knew that wasnt true. Dean didnt care about the glory; he cared about making a difference.

„I‘m coming around to the point, Sam.“ „He‘s Dean,“ Sam corrected. „I‘m Sam“. „Sorry, For some reason, you just look more like a Dean to me“

Gilmore Girls reference?

„You tried to shoot my brother“ Dean said.

Sam belived in a highter power, Dean didnt. Sam didnt have any special knowledge that Dean lacked, handt seen or heard or met God.

Lol, not yet.

Dean had been a kid, hadnt ever had a chance to become anything other than what Dad had made of him. That, finally, was the gulf between them — the canyon that could never be bridged.

Dean was an amazing guy, Sam knew, with skills and abilities most people would never imagine, and smarts Dean himself wouldnt credit, even though he relied on them all the time. And yet, at times like this, he was so humble, so unassuming, that he seemed almost unaware of the importance if his iwn contributions. At other times, of course, that humility vanished. Knowing and accepting both Deans, he guessed, was what being brothers was all about. Maybe I wouldnt want to be Dean, he thought, but i‘m sure glad I have him araound.

STOP MAKING MY CRY WTH

So anyways, that book sure was an experiance and i cant wait for the next one! I‘ll post a review of that as well and will update that post with a link to it one i‘m done!

Xoxo! <3

Next>

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Caine x reader

Requested over on ao3!

Nightmares were never really a big issue for you when you were back in the real world, since you didn’t get them very often for whatever reason that you weren’t complaining about. However, that’s all changed when you ended up in the digital circus. While you didn’t have nightmares every time you fell asleep, they were more frequent than what you were used to and it did bother you. You didn’t really tell anyone about the nightmares since you figured they would either not care or just brush it off as the digital circus getting to you, so you kept quiet about it.

That is, until one night cycle, you had fallen asleep, or at least, what felt like going to sleep in this world. It had started off as a nice dream, which of course that part you didn’t really remember. The next thing you knew, you were sitting up, your eyes wide with fear as you looked around the room. The worst part about these nightmares was that you couldn’t remember a thing. Sure, you would think that would be the good thing, but it wasn’t always good.

You got up out of your bed and went over to the door, opening it and walking out into the hallway which lead to the others rooms. You closed the door behind you and started walking down the hallway, hoping to find a certain ringmaster along the way. Yes, you were looking for Caine, since you figured you could possibly get some answers behind these constant nightmares you were having, and possibly get some sleep in the process.

“Caine?” You called out, looking around the area you were in as you shoved your hands into your pockets. No response.

“Caine?” You called again, but louder, hoping to get his attention.

“Yes, my dear Y/n?” You flinched a bit as you heard his voice from behind you. You turned to face him, as if relieved to see him there. “Is something the matter, you don’t look too good.”

“Yeah, that’s actually… what I wanted to talk to you about.” You rubbed the back of your head as he moved closer to you, as if inspecting you.

“Very well, let’s go somewhere else.” He grabbed your hand and the next thing you knew, you were in another room, one you had been in a few times when you two would have a chat. You had pulled up one of the nearby chairs and sat down, Caine now across from you.

“Alright, tell me what’s going on.”

“Lately, I’ve been having these nightmares. Most of the time I don’t even remember anything about them, I just wake up with wide eyes, breathing heavy as if I had just been chased by something.”

“I see..”

“I’ve never had this issue before, Caine.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you, Y/n, the others have not informed me of any nightmares they have had, but! If it makes you feel any better, I could see if I could help make things better for you.” You stood up and went over to him, pulling him into a hug, which caught him off guard.

“Whoa..! Uh, Y/n, are you alright, my dear?”

“I’m fine. What, I can’t hug you? Is that also against your weird terms and conditions or whatever is it?”

“No, not at all, I was just.. not expecting that.” You felt him hug you back, the two of you now sitting in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“…don’t let the nightmares bother you, Y/n. I will do what I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Caine, I really do appreciate it.”

“Now come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

“…I don’t want to let go, I’m comfortable.” Caine was quiet for a moment, before he picked you up, and the next thing you knew, you were both back in your room.

“I suppose I can stay until you get back to sleep, if that helps you.” You smiled faintly and nodded.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“Of course, Y/n, I don’t want you, or anyone else really, to suffer from nightmares, but… especially not you.”

“Thanks again, Caine.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes. “I know we don’t really need sleep here, but it does feel nice.”

“It’s no problem.” You felt him lightly pat your head before falling asleep, or at least, the closest thing you can get to sleep in this world.