#there are so many side characters that we had to create a masterlist to keep track of them all

[blank-house]

Though we don't have official sprites for them, the world of Keyframes has plenty of characters that call Wryn Mayer or Fairfield their home. [ ◉ ¯]

[ ◉ ¯] Introducing Rory, the boy's RA! You get to learn more about them in the extended demo, but he's a bit of a riot when you find him with his "kids". There's plenty of other characters for you to meet, too! Some reoccurring, some mentioned off handedly by others. But they all bring a bit of life in our not-so-little college town. ^^ Check out our game here: Keyframes And our official Twitter account: Twitter

(Hooray! Now you guys don't have to follow my twit anymore ahahaaa)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Your last fic was so good! I return once again, i meed more of my husband.

Can we get some soft fluffy smut with per'tah? Maybe the first time they are finally intimate with each other? Can be part of the series or stand alone.

Love ya 😘

woven bonds- pert'ah (orc oc) smut

part 6 of woven bonds and smut

pert'ah x fem reader

water-lillie you keep me sane

tags/warnings- over the time you two have been together his english has gotten better, arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your together!, smut, very gentle man but hes huge so its still rough, heavy illusions to the idea of pregnancy, no condom obvi, virginity taking (on both sides) hes actually a total tease, pert'ah has a frenum piercing

also, feel free to request non-woven bonds-related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support I've gotten over the last month!

i need to learn to stop writing so much- 3739 words

The night was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the small home you now shared with Pert’ah. The hearth had died down to embers, casting a gentle, warm glow across the room. You could still hear the faint crackling of the last burning logs as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the woven blankets beneath your fingers.

Pert'ah was quiet, too, standing near the window, his broad back to you as he gazed out into the night. The silence between you both wasn’t the uncomfortable kind it had once been. After weeks of tentative conversations and quiet gestures, the distance between you two had shrunk. And yet, tonight felt different. Intimate in a way that made your heart race.

“Are you… ready for sleep?” Pert'ah’s deep voice broke the stillness, the hint of uncertainty in his words unusual for him.

You nodded slowly, your eyes drifting toward the space beside you. “Yes....im tired"

The truth was, you had grown used to Pert'ah sleeping on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in his own blanket. He had never pushed for more, always respecting the distance you’d initially demanded. But tonight, you had quietly asked him to sleep beside you. The words had caught in your throat, but they had come out, and he had agreed without question.

Pert'ah approached the bed cautiously, as if not wanting to spook you. His steps were quiet for someone his size, his large, rough hands moving carefully as he pulled back the blanket and slid in beside you. The bed felt smaller now with him in it, his presence all-encompassing and warm.

You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his body beside you. His breathing was slow, steady, and somehow calming.

After a few moments, you turned to face him. “Pert’ah?”

He shifted, turning his head to look at you, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Yes?”

“Tell me more about your past,” you said softly. “We’ve been together for a while now, but… I still don’t know much about where you come from.”

Pert’ah let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. “My past… is not so interesting. I am… simple man.” He paused, his hand resting near yours on the bed, his fingers curling slightly as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I was born into weaving,” he continued. “My family, we make many things. Cloth, art. From when I am small, I learn to use my hands to create.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, a far-off look in his eyes. “My father, he teach me much. Say that strong hands can create just as much as they can destroy.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter.

“And you?” you asked quietly. “What do you want to create… with me?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing. Then, Pert'ah’s large hand slid across the blanket, covering yours gently. His touch was warm, comforting, and his fingers entwined with yours as if they were always meant to fit together.

“With you?” he repeated, his voice low, thoughtful. “I want to create… peace. Home.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his touch tentative but sincere. “I want to make you happy. Want you to feel safe with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You shifted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. For so long, you had resisted, keeping him at arm’s length, but now, lying here with him, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I think… I’m starting to feel that way,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “With you.”

Pert'ah’s arm wrapped around you slowly, carefully, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment. His hand rested on your back, holding you close. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear.

“I never thought I would end up here,” you murmured. “With you. I never thought I’d…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

But Pert'ah understood. He always did.

“We are here now,” he said softly, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “We can...make future together.”

You looked up at him, meeting his golden eyes. “What kind of future do you want?”

His eyes softened, his tusked smile gentle. “One where you smile more. Where we work together. You and me… mates.”

It was a simple answer, but it made your heart swell. The life you had imagined for yourself before seemed distant now, irrelevant. What mattered was the man beside you, the quiet strength in his words and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You shifted again, tilting your head up until your lips brushed his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the space between you disappearing completely as his arms tightened around you.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, you smiled softly. “I think… I’d like that future, too.”

Pert'ah’s smile widened, his rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, his sparkling golden eyes looking down at yours he leans down, and when he doesnt see you pull back, connects, pressing his lips to yours

you kiss back, his tusks feel uncomfy against your lips, but you'll manage, its all worth it for him, you lightly press your hands against his leather sleep tunic, he had sewn two matching ones for the both of you so you had a more comfortable rest on the furs.

you pull back, looking up at him with a sweet loving smile, but one that would never compare to the one he gave back, all that man did was love you

Pert'ah's eyes lit up when you kissed him back, a warmth spreading through his chest at your acceptance. He could feel the slight discomfort of his tusks, but the way you willingly leaned into his touch, despite them, filled him with a deep longing to cherish and protect you.

As you pulled back and smiled up at him, Pert'ah's gaze followed yours, drinking in the sweetness of the moment. His smile grew wider, mirroring yours, but the intensity behind it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. His hands framed your face, gently tracing the curves of your cheeks with his thumbs, as if to memorise every detail. "You are beautiful," he said, the words coming from a place deep within his soul, his voice filled with a sincerity that left him breathless, He leaned in once more, this time tenderly pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the closeness.

The softness of the moment hung between you, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the air with anticipation. Pert'ah's heart pounded against your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the love he felt for you. His lips grazed your temple, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your jawline, seeking permission to continue exploring the contours of your face.

And then, there was no hesitation; his mouth claimed yours, demanding nothing but surrender as his tongue danced with yours in a sensual waltz. Time lost meaning as the world narrowed to the two of you, suspended in a sea of desire and affection. When he finally released your lips, Pert'ah's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything, I need you."

In that instant, Pert'ah knew that he would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy fate itself to ensure that you remained by his side forevermore. Your love was his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason for existing. As he cradled your face in his palms, Pert'ah vowed to spend eternity cherishing and adoring you, unwavering in his devotion to the mate he had found in you.

you pulled lightly on his tunic, and with a look into your loving eyes, he gets the hint, pulling his shirt off, pulling your lips against his again

Pert'ah's tunic fell away, revealing the strong contours of his chest and the softness of his skin beneath. The warmth of his body radiated towards you, drawing you in like a magnet. As you pressed your lips against his, the sensation of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flame of desire that threatened to consume you.

Their lips moved in tandem, a sensual dance of tongues and breaths that left them both gasping for air. Pert'ah's hands cradled your face, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin of your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. The gentle touch belied the intensity of his emotions, the love and longing evident in every caress.

As you kissed, Pert'ah's fingers danced over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if mapping your very soul. His hands roamed under your nightgown, finding the soft flesh of your stomach, your breasts, and your thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and burying his nose in the tender spot between your collarbone and shoulder.

"Mine..my wife" he whispered, the single word echoing through your mind like a promise, a vow, a declaration of love. In that moment, you belonged to him, and he to you, bound together by threads of passion and devotion.

As the kiss lingered, Pert'ah's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until you were flush against him. your bodies molded together seamlessly, fitting like pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for yours alone. The contact sparked a firestorm of sensations, each brush of skin against skin amplifying the intimacy and urgency of your embrace.

Time stood still as you clung to each other, lost in the swirling vortex of desire and affection. Nothing existed beyond the confines of your little bubble, where the world melted away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

you kiss at his jaw and temple, playing with his hair as his kisses your neck, bruising your throat with marks, you pull your own tunic off and if he could be any more excited, he would explode, looking down at your body, your tits, your waist, your tummy, thighs and what laid between them, your sweet core

The sight of your exposed skin seemed to hypnotize Pert'ah. His eyes traveled over your curves, drinking in the beauty of your naked form, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. The bruises on your throat added a depth of color to the canvas of your neck, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.

His fingers traced the outline of your waist, tracing the shape of your belly button, and the gentle rise of your thighs. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of your body, every inch of which he had come to adore. Each kiss, each touch, each whisper of breath against his skin sent waves of desire crashing through him like a tide.

Without breaking eye contact, Pert'ah slowly lowered his head, his lips grazing your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking softly as his tongue began to circle the bud, drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, your inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

As he explored your body, Pert'ah's hands roamed over your skin, mapping every contour and valley, tracing the lines of your veins and the tender curve of your collarbone. Every touch, every caress, every kiss sent ripples of pleasure through you, building upon themselves until you felt like you might burst apart from sheer joy.

Lost in the haze of desire, Pert'ah didn't notice when needy tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, nor did he realize that your nails dug gently into his scalp as you arched into his touch. All he saw was the radiant beauty of your face, bathed in moonlight, illuminated by the pure, raw emotion emanating from your very pores.

"pert'ah…please…more" you plead, squirming, tugging at his hair lightly, you needed more than gentle licks, nothing about this would be light, no matter how hard he tried, but you were okay with that

Pert'ah's ears perked up at the pleading in your voice, and he lifted his head to look at you with a question in his eyes. Seeing your desperation, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out a sharp intake of breath from you. You arched into his touch, your body aching for more, and Pert'ah responded eagerly.

His mouth closed around your nipple once more, this time applying gentle suction, then harder and harder, until the pressure became almost unbearable. He pinched the other nipple with his fingers, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Pert'ah's hands slipped down your stomach, his fingers dancing over the tender skin, exploring every dip and curve, before finding their way to the swollen nub between your thighs. He pressed a finger against you, and you gasped as he applied gentle pressure, circling the sensitive tissue in rhythmic motions.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as he continued to tease and taunt you, the sensations building to a crescendo within you. The tightness in your abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to unleash a torrent of release.

Just as you teetered on the brink, Pert'ah withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and desperate for more. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you writhe in frustration, knowing full well the effect he had on you.

"Don't worry..my love," he purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. "I haven't forgotten about you."

you squirm in his touch as he pulls back, sitting back to look at his work, the glistening slick that covered your cunt like a thin film, watching you pant and plead with your eyes, he leans back on his knees and takes his cock out from behind his loin cloth, giving you a show as he pulls his foreskin back, revealing his sheen-green tip which leaked precum down onto his silver frenum piercing

Pert'ah's showy display had you squirming in place, your eyes fixed on his erect member as he stroked himself slowly, the motion drawing your gaze to the glisten of precum that trickled down his shaft, pooling at the base of his penis.

The sight of his erect cock made your mouth water, your inner thighs slickening further in response, the need to feel him inside you reaching a fever pitch. Your fingers involuntarily drummed a rhythm on his leg, urging him to take action.

His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge in his gaze that he knew you wouldn't be able to resist. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers closing around your calf as he gently but firmly drew your leg up.

"I'm ready when you are, my love," he purred,

you nod, spread and ready for him, he his breath hot against your neck as he slowly dragged his member through the slick folds of your pussy, the tip parting your labia and brushing against your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your lower body singing in delight as he began to rock his hips, slowly pushing his cock deeper into your depths. The sensation of him sliding inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely, was indescribable, aside from heaven and a little (alot) painful

Pert'ah's movements were slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock slowly sinking deeper into your slickened core. He knew he had to be gentle, careful not to push too hard, too fast, not yet. He could feel your body tensing up around his, the gentle pain of entry easing as you began to relax.

With a tender touch, Pert'ah cradled your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes, seeing the mix of pain and pleasure there. "You okay, love?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he paused in his movements, waiting for your response.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he started to rock his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of your depths in a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper and more precise, easing you into a comfortable cadence.

Pert'ah's fingers began to trace the outline of your breasts, his touch soft and soothing, drawing your attention to the sensations building within you, making it difficult to focus on anything else besides the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice warm and encouraging as he continued to move inside you, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously tight around his shaft.

Pert'ah watched as you stared down at the scene below, your eyes widening as you saw his cock moving in and out of your depths, leaving a trail of wetness and evidence of your shared pleasure. A lump formed in your stomach, and Pert'ah's heart skipped a beat as he realized you were struggling to process this new sensation, this newfound intimacy between you.

His movements slowed, and he lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched in his voice, his golden eyes searching for any sign of distress or discomfort.

As he spoke, Pert'ah continued to move inside you, gentle but insistent, sensing that he needed to ease your mind, reassure you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be sure you knew that this was a good thing, that he was here for you, with you, and that he was going to cherish and love you for as long as you'd allow him.

His hands continued their gentle exploration of your breasts, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the hardness of his body, yet somehow perfectly balanced, creating a rhythm that was both soothing and exhilarating, keeping you grounded as you navigated this uncharted territory.

"Y-you're doing...oh fuck..youre doing amazing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his words dripping with sincerity, encouraging you to continue embracing this new aspect of your relationship, to revel in the raw power of your physical bond.

Slowly, Pert'ah began to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more purposeful, driving deeper into your depths, filling you entirely, stretching you in ways you hadn't experienced before. Every stroke brought you closer to release, building pressure in your core, threatening to unleash a torrent of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever known.

As he reached the brink of climax, Pert'ah stilled, his body tensing, his hips locked tight against yours, his eyes fixed intently on yours, waiting for permission to finish what he started. "w-where...where can i..?" he huffs, squelches echoing through his cabin with each heavy thrust, his eyes were heavy, lidded as he glanced down at the imprint he formed your stomach as he thrusted inside

"shit...your...you're so gorgeous...gonna..fi-fill you up...make you a mama.." his word go straight to your core, and it just gushes, you spray all over his stomach and cock, showering him in your squirt

the room around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the primal urge to claim you as his own, to brand you with his mark, to show the world you were his and only his.

As Pert'ah watched, mesmerized, the sight of your gushing fluids splashing against his stomach and the base of his cock, his mind was reeling. This was real, this was happening, he could have a family. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and possessiveness course through his veins.

He let out a satisfied grunt as his orgasm washed over him, his body jerking in reaction, his cock spilling its load deep inside you. The warmth of your inner walls enveloped him, milking him dry, and he collapsed against you, spent but elated.

In that moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, lost in the throes of passion, bound by the threads of their desires and needs. Pert'ah's thoughts swirled with visions of the future, of growing families, of children playing under the sun-kissed skies, of laughter and tears, of memories forged in the fire of their love.

you cry out as he overflows your cunt with his seed, pert'ah heaves and drops down on top of you, panting and whispering praises in aftershock of his first time, you smile softly, snuggling into the bed once again, not caring about the sticky between your legs, you would clean in the morning

As Pert'ah's breathing slowed, his weight shifted, and he curled around you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to keep you from ever escaping, to make sure you stayed right where he wanted you.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. "Mine," he whispered again, the word becoming a mantra as his lips brushed against your scalp.

You felt his heart beating against yours, a steady drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of your own. The comfort of his embrace washed over you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears. In this moment, there was no denying the power of his claim, the intensity of his possession. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of love, lust, and desire.

As the silence deepened, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your shared breathing, Pert'ah's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, the contours, the lines. Each touch was a reassurance, a promise of the pleasures to come, of the life they would build together.

I am TIRED

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

On The Hunt: You Broke and I Shattered

Summary- 3.9k Alpha Steve x Little One. You and Steve find where Ulysses is storing his stolen goods; vibranium from Wakanda. Scouting the building, you and Steve separate and Steve struggles with this lone wolf mentality.

Warnings- Steve being upset and lashing out about your relationship with Pan. Reader goes into her heat finally and confronts Steve during it.

A/N- Okay I know it's been a while, LONG WHILE since I have posted these two. Part of me is still apprehensive about your Steve feelings. Be mad and hate him if that is the vibe! I get it, honestly, I do. I can't help but love him as strongly as I always have because I love a broken character that I created. Thank you so much @yenzys-lucky-charm for walking through this and holding my hand with them. For always giving me reassurance to continue this story. You, my dear friend, are a saint for all you do behind the scenes. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics Enjoy, and if you did, please share and reblog. I also love hearing your thoughts and rants about them.

Chapter Seven / Masterlist

It smelled bad. 

The Little Wolf’s nose wrinkled as she scouted the side of the large warehouse. You lost track of Steve after he shifted, the Alpha whisking his muzzle against the Little Wolf’s and then leapt away along the edge of the warehouse. As large as the Alpha was, he was easily able to meld into nothing when he didn’t want to be seen. A skill from many years of hunting. 

The Little Wolf weaved through the large piles of garbage and pallets, using them to keep her hidden from the multitude of cameras outside of the building. The installers had attempted to keep them hidden, but your time working with T’Challa had taught you where to look. 

The Little Wolf was also good at getting by unnoticed, the smaller stature and slinking nature could make her easily pass for a street dog that ran wild. 

The scents assaulting her were so foul and strong. The heavy acidic scent of fear permeates the stone and steel walls, making the Little Wolf’s ears lay flat against her skull, her nose wrinkling in discomfort. 

A scuffle of footsteps caught her attention, sending her into hiding with her radar-sharp ears swiveling towards the footsteps scuttling down the alleyway towards where you were hiding. 

“The shipment’s ready, just need the boss's sign-off.” You heard the man say into a phone and the Little Wolf pricked her ears to catch the last of the conversation. “Yeah, Klaue is expected in a couple days.”

He is not here yet. You mentally sighed, frustrated that there would be a period of waiting around for you and Steve.

<But he will be here soon for us. The Alpha should be coming around any moment, maybe we can get inside.> She was quiet in her movements, easing away from the rambling man whose conversation turned elsewhere, giving them no more vital information. Catching sight of the unlatched door, the Little Wolf paused, glancing around to see that no one was nearby. <Should we wait?> 

We could lose our chance. You urged her, unwilling to wait now that the opportunity of getting inside was just so available to you. 

<The Alpha…> The Little Wolf hesitated, glancing back at the direction Steve should be coming around. 

Will catch up. He can follow our trail and we might lose this entrance if that man comes back to lock this door. This is our chance to see the inside and be prepared for Ulysses. 

She finally relented, using her muzzle to ease the door open further and sneak into the dark interior of the warehouse, a sliver of light the only source into the belly of the beast. 

It was easy remaining out of sight on the main floor, various containers of weapons that all smelled tinged with vibranium littered haphazardly around and in the center of the building were cages, all emptied but you could see that they had been recently used. All providing cover even as a silent snarl flirted across Little One’s muzzle, anger simmering in your chest as well as sadness that you had been too late to save those souls from whomever they were sold too. 

Flashes of your old life, the sales floor clouding your memories while you wandered between them. The fear and pain at being dragged in front of buyers, their hands running all over your naked body and the false promises of giving you a better life if you just bonded with them. 

The vileness of it made the Little Wolf shiver and a soft barely there whine escape. <Never again.> She assured you, the fur along her back bristling in agitation. 

Never again. You agreed with her, calming once more. You escaped, you had known love and safety with your pack and with Steve. Even now with you two separated, you knew Steve still wouldn’t ever allow anyone to use you like that again. 

The Little Wolf eased closer, edging along the last line of containers holding vibranium and weapons, trying to map the building. 

There was a huff nearby and you caught sight of silver fur rows back. Steve found us. The Little Wolf stopped, the tip of her tail wagging in a greeting but the Alpha stalked nearby, his eyes blazing furiously at the Little Wolf. 

She lowered further, feeling the anger roll from him while he slid up next to her, pressing in against her for a moment just to feel her before he silently let his nose wander along the edge of the containers. 

Loud shouts just out of sight called out directions to load pallets onto the truck, making you and the Alpha both freeze for a second. The Alpha turned away and returned to the Little Wolf’s side, rumbling enough so you felt the vibrations rising off him. Not an order from the Alpha but a suggestion that it was time to go. 

You pulled back, leading the way out, and once back outside, no one the wiser, you both bolted away from the warehouse. 

It had been a while since you had returned to the apartment, Steve had been silent most of the time, both of you sketching out the warehouse's interior and tensley comparing notes with one another. But you could feel the tension crackling between you and Steve. All his responses clipped in a tone that you were just not used to from him. 

It was making your Little Wolf uneasy in your mind, pacing back and forth in a skittish way, making you feel like you were about to snap. 

You finally pushed away the notes and sketches of the warehouse, making Steve’s gaze snap to you curiously. “What’s wrong Steve?” 

His brows furrowed together and his mouth thinned with whatever he wanted to say being held back. “Nothing is wrong Y/N. We should contact T’Challa to let him know what we found.” He pulled away, going to grab his phone when you grabbed his forearm to keep him from avoiding the question. Steve stiffened, a shiver going through him and you saw his nostrils flare a bit, dragging in a breath of you. 

“Stop the bullshit Steve, you’re pissed and I don’t know why.” Your Little Wolf yipped anxiously, making you tense up all that much more. 

Clear blue eyes snapped, flaring slightly in a glowing color as the Alpha in him rose to challenge him before he turned to you with a slight bare of his teeth. “You didn’t wait for me Y/N. You charged into that warehouse alone.” 

Your hand dropped from his arm and you immediately snapped back, if you had hackles, they would be raised at the tension finally breaking. “This is what you are pissed about Steve? I was doing the mission. I don’t need your permission to do that.” A snarl emitted from you, daring Steve to bite back. “Not anymore.” 

He rose to the challenge, rounding onto you, his size a sheer force but you held tight, refusing to step back from him. “That’s right Little One, I gave you up and set you free from me.” 

A warning growl escaped you as a bit of tears threatening to well up hearing him. “That you did.”

“You have no regard for your safety, we are supposed to be hunting together and you just go into that building without me and that wasn’t the plan, I don’t care that you went in, but I didn’t know where you were, I just happened to catch your scent in the open door. What if they found you and caught you, what if I couldn’t follow you in?” He pulled away with a yank of his hand through his hair. 

You squared your shoulders, anger making your tone bite in your words. “It’s not your fucking job Steven to keep me safe. Why are you always trying to shield me?” 

“Cause Little One! It still feels like you’re fucking mine, even now while we are unbonded all I feel…” His hand slapped against his chest, where you knew his heart pounded its rhythm. 

“Well that sounds like your problem that you need to figure out. I’m not your Little One.” You tossed out, the pain searing into anger at the Alpha in front of you. “You ‘set me free’ which is utter bullshit, you don’t get to dictate how I work now.” 

It was like whiplash, his brow wrinkling as his sadness seeped through before anger masked his features once again. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. You remind me, you had moved on right… to him?” 

You knew exactly who he was talking about and that made those tears finally fall, your hand lifting and slapping sharply across Steve’s face hard, enough that his head turned with the impact. 

“How dare you, Steve, Pan was my friend when I was broken. My friend Steve, he was exactly who I needed when I was alone. You did this to us. You and that fucking drive to keep me safe. Newsflash Steve, my whole life I fought and I’m never going to stop. Now I’m doing it alone without you. You just thought of how you hurt me while being collared, it was NOTHING compared to what you did in that hospital room. I lost you that day and had to learn how to live without my mate because he didn’t want me anymore.” 

“Fuck Y/N, I never said I didn’t want you.” Steve’s jaw clenched tightly, but the anger from his features was gone, disbelief crowning his features now. His hand reached out to draw you in, but you stepped away, unable to handle the contact.

“You broke me that day Steve and now you don’t like this version I turned into? You have no right to be mad about that.” Your voice cracked, a shiver wracking up your body while the Little Wolf started singing in the back of your mind, her own pain breaking in the song. “I survived being used, I survived beatings in attempts to make me submissive, I survived other Alpha’s scarring me with their bites, I survived all the times they tried purposely to break me into bowing for them and being this meek little pup. But you, Steve I barely survived you.”  

You let out a breath, feeling your chest lighten as Steve stood before you like he was at a loss for words for a moment. Before you would let him say anything, you turned away to your room and let the door shut him out. Exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks and as you crawled into your bed to sink into that dark place you yet again were hovering in, your Little Wolf crooning to you, you curled into a ball in your bed and let yourself go. 

Steve sat on the edge of the uncomfortable bed in the apartment. It had been hours since you just dropped it all on him, which he knew but hearing it come from you, how your voice became so vulnerable like you were laid open and left to pick up the pieces. To top it off, he knew he was an utter asshole for what he said to you, wishing he could take it back. But it was out there now and he knew he couldn’t take back what he said in a moment of frustration. 

There was no way to take any of the last year back, he knew he acted on instinct back then and he was wrong. All of it was wrong, but he had to live with his actions. Actions had consequences and all he could do now was live with those choices, and give you that freedom. You were right, he couldn’t be mad at what you turned into because he was a part of it all. Something in him shattered that day, hard broken shards that fed all his fears and he was still struggling to not give in to them.

It still didn’t make it easier for him, or the Alpha. The Alpha was furious with him once more. A snarling beast who lashed out to make Steve wince at the rage. But he felt he deserved it, he took each one without a snap back. 

To top the whole fuck up of a day there was a soft wail through the wall of disbelief and it hit every one of Steve’s senses.

Your heat finally arrived and right now you two were stuck together, with no way to give one another space during this vulnerable intimate time. 

And it was almost torture to Steve as his muscles cramped with restraint, resisting the urge to go to you. 

The Wolf simmered somewhere, Steve sensed him close, but he was still staying away from the conscious side. Your scent was heavy with need and that made a ping of guilt well up in him that your heat was going to be worse for you because he was there. 

If you were back in Wakanda he would slip away, leave you in peace to choose the partner you would want to help you through this. But not in the middle of a mission like this.  

<Coward> The Wolf snarled at him, his ears laid flat against his skull and showing his fangs with a snap of his jaw, jolting Steve back to his awareness of his beast. <You would run away instead of staying to take care of her.> 

His head hung from his shoulders, gritting his eyes and clenching his jaw as his own beast tried to take over, howling your song to call for you. His rut was going to be rough, more of his wolfish side coming through, the overbearing need to fuck and take care of his mate would be a whole other torture. 

“Fuck off.” He snarled loudly, aiming at the Alpha but your soft voice cut through his snarl, making his head snap up, his hair disheveled and eyes flashing a brighter color as his nose tilted up to catch your warm honeysuckle scent. 

“Steve.” Your voice was soft in tone and loud in every other way as it broke his inner battle, your hands clutching at a blanket around you, miserable looking. “She won’t stop…” 

Steve guessed, as much as his wolf was trying to take over, the Little Wolf would be too. You were so distressed-looking, shaking in the blanket even though it wasn’t cold. He straightened up, holding out a hand to you. “Come here Y/N.” He growled, unable to contain more of the Wolf coming through. 

It was all it took, the blanket fell from around you, your body to sensitive for anything on you, as you streaked to Steve, his arms circling around your waist and made you straddle his lap. Getting as close as you could be without pinning you underneath him in the bed. His clothes felt so constricting as you settled in close, tears starting to race down your cheeks while your hands slid up his chest, pulling his shirt over his head so you could get skin to skin, which he was thankful for. “I tried Alpha, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You leaned into him, your breasts pressing against his chest as your face tucked into his neck, hiding away. 

“For what Y/N?” he let his nose press against the back of your neck, inhaling deeply. That alone made the wolf ease back, and let him regain control. Heavy calloused hands went up and down your back as you started sobbing in his neck, your thighs squeezing against him as you rocked your hips slightly to rub against him. 

“For being here with you.” You pushed against him and stared at him with sorrow and pain that Steve couldn’t stop the kisses he flushed over your eyes as more of your tears escaped, tears that he caused. Salty on his lips as they escaped into his beard. His gentleness at the moment, although both of your bodies were screaming to mate with one another, seemed to break you. 

“I’m so mad at you for doing this to me.” You dug your nails into his shoulders, rocking again as he matched your movement, pushing up to give you some relief in your grinding. “I did what you said, I left you alone and you followed me here. I couldn’t escape you with the pack and I still can’t Steve. Why do you make this impossible for me?” You hissed as your mouth sought his, while his kiss stayed gentle, you bit at him, gasping against him as your nails clawed into the muscles of his back. “You left me Steve and it broke me more than anything else that has happened.” If this was your punishment, Steve would take it. Every sharp claw and hissing bite you lashed at him. 

Steve clenched his jaw, unwilling to defend himself and his choices. He did this to you and it was the least he could do was listen. Instead, he pressed you in closer to him, touching you in all the ways he knew made you feel safe and cared for, his lips pressing against yours while you broke because of him. Your pain you lashed onto his back with your nails sharply dragging up to grasp his shoulder and rock yourself in against him once again, he welcomed the pain as he would any of your touches. 

You shook in his hold, pushing away from him enough to look at him, your anger melding into sheer pain. “Was I too weak to be an Alpha’s mate, your mate? Do you regret taking a broken and used Omega? I need to know Steve.”

This he couldn’t stand, not from you of all people. With a sweep of his hold, he twisted you to the bed, on your back while he hovered over you with a bare of his teeth at you, all the long hair falling forward around his face, making Steve look wild above you. Your hands went to cup his face, studying the man you and your little wolf still fiercely loved, your fingers pushing up to weave into his hair. “Is that what you actually believe Little One?” Steve’s tone was graveled, a mix of his voice and the Alpha growling at the same time. “Do you?” He said sharper, making you roll your body up into his solid one, giving a nod when you couldn't say anything. 

His hands caught your wrists and let his nose trace the inside on each one, you went pliant against him finally and he let his whirlwind of emotions settle. He had you and wasn’t planning on letting you go till you knew in your soul that he never would have left you because of those reasons. 

Your hands were pinned swiftly, slamming them into the pillows scattered around his bed. “Little One.” He growled when his lips descended to the soft warmth of your neck column. Kissing behind your ear with much more gentleness than how his hand caged yours over your head. “You really don’t know do you, how much power you have.” His growls were edging on violent, wracking through your body while his touch remained loving, each glide of his hand tracing your side passionate while the other encircled your wrists above your head with controlled strength, the flick of his tongue gliding on your skin and light pressure of sharpened fangs all affection in worshipping you. “How I would do anything for you. You think me walking away didn’t destroy my sanity, made the beast try to claw from his cage?” 

You whined under Steve, your heat simmering on unbearable but his words were making you want to scream. All this time he felt this way and he still managed to walk away, leaving you shattered, your fingers curled, digging into his palm keeping you pinned down. He hissed at the pain but never loosened or pulled away from you. “You still did it, you claim to protect me from you.” 

Steve rose above you, his touch on your waist going to your face, turning your head till you couldn't look away from him. So much filled his gaze locking with yours and your unshed tears of anger, frustration, and pain were mirrored in his. “Because I am weak, scared, and broken. All I could see in that moment was you dead at my feet, that I had destroyed my mate, half of my soul. Alpha’s might seem powerful, but actually, we are empty without our other halves, made to serve our packs but never finding anything beyond that. That day I almost killed mine and I was powerless to stop it." His throat bobbed, swallowing past the emotion that almost seemed to overtake him. "I made a mistake and I see that now Little One, I let fear control me, and look what it did to us. I can’t take it back and will always live with what I did. You are right, I can’t be mad about who you are now because of it, you became stronger. You don’t need me, not really. You, my mate, you have all the power. Fuck, that day I was breaking down thinking I was powerless to control myself...”  His shoulders sagged like admitting this out loud to you took everything out of him. “I should have talked to you about what I was going through instead of running.” 

You eased up the grasp of your fingers digging into his palm, allowing yourself to soften slightly under him. Pulling a hand from his hold, your touch drifted up, sliding around the curve of his neck while you silently counted every little ragged scar circling his throat. Every little barb that dug into him and controlled him. This shattered your Alpha and he was struggling to be better. "I see you Steve." You whispered up at him while letting your thumb wipe under his eyes, clearing away the moisture welling up in those sharp blue eyes.

He reached up to take your palm, curling it against his jaw while he tilted into it, pressing his lips to the center. "I see you too Y/N, I'm so sorry I pushed you away."

Your Little Wolf called out his song again while his eyes scanned over your face, feeling the change in you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him closer. “I could throttle you.” You chirped with a crack in your voice and Steve gave a soft sad chuckle as his head dropped to lean his forehead against yours, giving a little sniffle.

“I know I deserve it.” 

“And what do you want now Steve?” You asked softly, almost a whisper between you two. 

The Alpha was silent, his inhales drawing you in to smother all his other senses, if he could drown in you, he would so happily. “A chance for us, to be the Alpha and your mate you deserve from me.” He pulled away to catch your eyes, such a sharp blue with tinges of yellow melding to give hints of green, the Alpha bleeding through, showing while Steve gave you the answers you sought. “To give you all of me, even the broken parts that need fixing Little One.” 

“If I said I need you to talk to me Steve, you need to let me in instead of just trying to keep me safe from the world.” Your hand twisted in his hold, sliding your fingers through his above your head. “That you won’t shut me out because you are trying to keep me safe.” 

“I will spend my life showing you I can be your partner.” This next kiss was gentle, a brush of his lips to yours as you pulled him back into your hold, his heavy weight on you making you finally feel like you were where you belonged. “And I will wait, as long as you need to be ready for us again, if that is what you want.” 

Ready to be us again… You repeated to yourself, letting his words really take hold. The Little Wolf was a calming presence now, the heat sated enough in just this rebonding moment for you two. You pushed up your hips enough to push against Steve and he instinctively released his hold on you to fall back and take you with him, letting you straddle him while he laid underneath you now, his hands caressing down till they settled on your waist, content to let you decide what you wanted from him next. “I missed you, Steve, we missed you.” 

Your touch slipped up his chest while you moved to settle in against him, ease relaxing through you as his arms slipped around you, hugging you to lay against him and nothing more in the moment. You let your cheek lay against his chest, your head tucked under his bristled chin. You could feel his words as he spoke them out loud. “We were wanderers without our home Little One, we missed you too.” 

[sofreddie]

Against All Odds

Summary: Jared is a small-town Deputy who's lived there all his life. When he met Y/N - a new Omega in town - in the drunk tank, he wondered if he'd ever get a second chance at love.

Characters: Alpha!Correctional Officer!Jared x Omega!Reader

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, Drinking/Alcohol Abuse, Medical Conditions, Medical Treatments, Heat/Rut Cycles, Medical Emergency, Procedural Violations (Doctors bending the rules/laws), Smut (Fuck or Die, Unprotected Sex, Knotting, Claiming/Biting, Dirty Talk)

AU: CORRECTIONAL OFFICER!JARED (@spnaubingo)

ANGST: IN THE HOSPITAL (@anyfandomangstbingo)

OMEGAVERSE: CLAIM SEX (@afgomegaversebingo)

SW: FREE SPACE (@samwinchesterbingo)

WC: 11,623

A/N: So I started this fic in 2021 for my Bingos (which I am still working on and intend to complete eventually). I doubt they count anymore, but that's not the point, LOL. I took quite a few liberties with the prompts. Although it took ages to complete, I am delighted with how this fic turned out. I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

The weight of her head was heavy in her hands, the concrete beneath her cold enough to numb her backside. Groaning, she pinched her eyes shut against the overly bright lights that rained down on her, creating a constant pounding behind her closed lids.

"Good Morning, Ms. Y/L/N. How are we feeling today?"

Y/N groaned louder, the chipper and familiar voice only adding to her torment.

"Mornin' Padadeputy," she snorted at her joke, wincing as it caused her poor, battered brain pain. "Can I go home?" she croaked, working her mouth to ease the dryness.

She could use a drink. But the very thought had her throwing a hand over her mouth and rushing to the steel toilet in the corner, the remnants of her late-night excursions making a reappearance.

Wiping a hand across her mouth, she leaned her back against the wall, her head tilted back, and her eyes closed as she felt a bit of relief from her suffering. Though the constant rhythmic pounding in her head only grew more prominent.

The sound of metal sliding against metal, locks clicking, and doors sliding alerted her that she was no longer confined. Opening her eyes just enough, she could make out her favorite deputy's tall and lean figure.

"So, at this rate, should we keep this room open for you?" Officer Padalecki joked as he leaned against the open doorway of the cell.

Using the wall as leverage, she forced herself to her feet, her body protesting the movements. She quickly rinsed her mouth and washed her face, waking herself up enough to return home.

"Maybe I just like seeing you?" She smiled over-sweetly and shuffled past him as her feet walked the familiar path.

"Not that I'm complaining, but there's probably better ways to get my attention," he teased.

The flirty banter between them happened with ease. Y/N, unfortunately, made a habit of landing herself in the drunk tank at least once a week. Though they'd never seen or talked to each other outside of the local jail, they formed an easy camaraderie.

The truth was he worried about her, the unclaimed Omega slowly drinking herself to death, being forcibly removed from local bars for disorderly conduct on many occasions. She seemed like a sweet but troubled woman. Maybe it was his caring side or his Alpha, but he worried and wanted her to be okay.

Y/N's senses were sharp, even when drunk out of her mind. She could see his attractiveness and smell his rich Alpha lurking under the surface. She'd never been with an Alpha, never felt the pull. But in her condition, there was no way she could start now, even if there were an attraction unlike anything she'd felt before. She brushed it off as another symptom; her Omega had long since become unreliable.

-

Jared walked back into the office area after escorting Y/N outside. As soon as he entered, Jensen looked up with a lewd grin, making Jared sigh and roll his eyes.

"Alright, let's have it," Jared scoffed as he sat at his desk, crossing his booted feet on the desktop and leaning back in his chair.

He had worked with Jensen at the station for years, but they had met at the training academy before that. However, they only spent a little time together outside of work, as they were involved in the community. Sometimes, they'd see each other at local events, but they were both occupied with helping the community in various ways, volunteering, and making their hometown well-cared for and safe.

Y/N was relatively new to their community. No one knew much about her. She lived in town but didn't seem to work anywhere, and she spent almost every Friday night sleeping it off in the jail. Regardless, Jared was attracted to her almost immediately after catching a slight hint of her scent. He often felt like a swooning teenager again in her presence, which Jensen never missed a chance to rib him about, leaving Jared an embarrassed and blustering mess.

"So, you ever gonna ask her out, or you just planning to be a secret admirer?" Jensen teased as usual.

"Come on, man," Jared groaned. "We've been over this. It's unprofessional to do that when I'm on duty and she's in jail. I never see her outside of this place. Maybe it's just not meant to be?"

He didn't like how the words tasted as he spoke them, somehow feeling malformed. There was something between them, a possible compatibility. After all, Jensen could never catch any scent from her; he was an Alpha, too. So, if Jared was sensitive to her scent, it must mean something.

Jensen shook his head and laughed before getting back to some paperwork. Jared sighed again, doing the same and wondering if he'd ever see her outside the jail and off duty, just like two people in the world. Then, he promised himself, he’d try again.

-

After Jared clocked out for the end of his shift - his relief right on time as usual - he tried to put Y/N out of his mind, but his Alpha was set on her ever since he'd first laid eyes on her. His mind flip-flopped as usual, switching from the primal Alpha wanting her to the rational man determined to remain professional. Either way, whatever was going on in her life, he was sure the last thing she needed was an Alpha sniffing around.

As he walked towards his truck, twirling his keys in his hand, he saw Y/N waiting on a bench by the station. She usually called a cab to come and get her when she was released, but she was long gone by the time he left to go home. Deciding to take a chance, he went over to her.

"Waiting on your cab?" he smiled down at her.

She nodded, "Yeah, they're just a little busy this morning."

"I can give you a ride if you'd like," he offered, pointing over his shoulder at his truck. Y/N's eyes flitted between him and his truck before she sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

She could feel his eyes on her as she climbed in the old truck, the effort seeming to drain her. She glanced at him, the same look of worry she saw from everyone etched onto his beautiful face.

"I'm fine. Just need some sleep."

It was one of her standard responses. She was glad that Jared seemed to buy it and started driving. She gave him directions to her house, grateful the town was small and wasn't a long drive.

"Thanks again," she said as she climbed out of the truck and shut the door. "See you later."

"I hope under different circumstances," he chuckled, a light tinge of pink staining his cheeks and ears.

Yeah, she wished that things could be different, too. She bid her farewell as it was, noting that Jared hadn't driven off until she was safely secured inside. Sighing, she brushed it off, eager to get rid of the stink of jail and stale liquor that clung to her.

She stumbled into her bathroom, pulling off her clothes on the way, a haphazard trail left behind her. She leaned on the bathroom counter, groaning at her disheveled reflection in the mirror. Drinking wasn't doing her any favors, but it was the only way to drown the pain and sorrow.

She turned to the corner of the counter, opening her organized pill box and eyeballing the many different medications in various colors and sizes she had to take every day. She hated it, but her regimen required it as part of her treatment for aging, unmated Omegas.

She downed the pills with a glass of water, showered, and dried as quickly as possible. Forgoing clothes, she climbed into her bed, sleep taking over quickly.

-

Y/N sat in the oversized pleather chair, letting out a long sigh. Her eyes were more than bored with whatever random home makeover show played on the muted TV. She allowed her eyes to roam, taking in the other chairs like hers, with different people occupying them.

Her head rolled to the other side, glancing at the IV in her arm, her eyes following up the tubing to the bag hanging above her, still half-full. She groaned, knowing she'd be there a while yet.

She'd been at it for six months, and the treatment of donated Alpha enzymes was designed to counteract the decline of her Omega body. She was past the average age for Omegas to be mated, never having found an Alpha that called to her Omega. Now, being mateless had become a medical condition, her body rapidly deteriorating from lack of a mate and the necessary enzymes a bite would provide.

Still, the treatments would only work so much and for so long, prolonging the inevitable. Y/N's doctors insisted she try finding a mate as soon as possible, but she wasn't willing to settle for anyone. Her stubbornness, however, didn't help her condition. The treatments weren't as effective anymore, and her body started to build a tolerance. She shifted in her chair, the squeaky creak of the materials making her groan.

"Y/N?"

Her head snapped up, and her brow furrowed at the figure across the room. He finished his conversation with a doctor, rolling the sleeves of his plaid flannel down over his forearms as he approached her with a smile.

He pulled up one of the smaller guest chairs beside her, laying his coat over his knee. His body looked too large and long for the basic chair.

"Padadeputy," she greeted, but without the usual smile. "What are you doing here?" she asked, still confused over his sudden appearance and at having someone see her here. She hadn't told a soul about her treatments, not that she had anyone to say anything to.

"Jared," he corrected her with a smile. "I come in a couple times a month," he explained. "I donate enzymes."

His eyes drifted from the IV in her arm to the hanging bag, his gaze flicking back to her eyes. She lowered her head in shame, heat spreading across her cheeks. For a moment, they both wondered if it was his enzymes she'd received.

The awkward silence dragged out between them, Jared waiting for her to speak. She didn't like anyone knowing about her condition, afraid Alphas would try to claim her in a heartbeat 'for her own good.' But, for whatever reason, Y/N felt compelled to tell Jared the truth. She wanted him to know. Maybe her Omega was reaching out to him again, but she gave in to this small need to connect with the Alpha before her.

"I've never had a mate," she spoke quietly, picking at her nails. "I've been doing treatments for a few months. But it's-" she sighed, briefly meeting his eyes and forcing a smile, "-it's not working so well."

"I had a mate," Jared broke the silent tension after a beat. "A long time ago," he dropped his head. She worried for him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. But she focused instead on her hands in her lap again.

"She died in an accident," he continued, seemingly composing himself as he met her eyes again. "Now that I'm…older," he smirked, "It's getting harder to deal with." She was thoroughly surprised by his admission.

"Well, I wouldn't recommend drinking to cope," she chuckled, trying to ease the seriousness.

"I can't imagine the drinking is helping," Jared stated. "It can't be good with the treatments-"

"I don't need a lecture," she whined, surprised at herself for not being more angry at his audacity. "I get enough of that from my doctor."

"Maybe you should listen," Dr. Collins interrupted with a smile and a reassuring hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Hey, Jared. Didn't know you two knew each other."

"Hey, Mish," Jared responded with a warm smile. 

Misha had also grown up in the town and was a prominent fixture in the community. The Omega Outreach Program, which he helped found and develop, drew Omegas from all over for his unique treatments and regimens.

Y/N listened as the two men chatted. She often felt like an outsider, having moved there specifically for the treatments. When both men turned their attention back to her, she was pulled from her musings.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'd like to go over some things with you. Would you like Jared to leave?"

Both men waited as she made up her mind, shaking her head. "He can stay," she said in a small and quiet voice.

Jared was the closest thing she had to a friend; having someone to know and talk to about things would be helpful. But also, it was an attempted blow to stifle her Omega. As much as she pined after Jared, she knew he wouldn't be interested if he knew the truth of her condition. What Alpha would want a broken, dying Omega? At least when he learned, he could leave, and she could try and let go of this stupid fantasy she'd concocted in her mind.

"Okay," Dr. Collins nodded as he pulled up a seat to talk with her. "You'll be happy to know it appears this round of treatments is starting to work, at least a little," he explained. Y/N was surprised as each round of treatments before had failed, her body not finding compatibility with any of the enzymes she was provided. Now, it seemed, they'd finally found a match. "I'm still worried about your heat. And, of course," he leveled her with a gaze, "The goal is to find an Alpha for a permanent solution possibly. Have you given more thought to what we discussed?"

She appreciated his vagueness at the time, seeing Jared stir quietly. Dr. Collins had recommended a matching service that would pair her with an Alpha who needed an Omega. A clinical pairing that would keep them alive, if not happy or in love. That wasn't the point of those programs; she didn't want to go that route. It felt like giving up, and a small part of her hoped to find the fairytale of True Mates and love and romance. Her eyes flashed to Jared, stirring deep within her, alerting her to the fact her Omega was trying to seek the Alpha it needed in him.

"No," she shook her head, forcing her eyes from Jared back to Misha. "I don't want to do that."

Misha sighed, glancing between the pair before nodding. "Alright, we'll continue your treatments and see how you do. Same time next week?"

She smiled and nodded, and Dr. Collins dismissed himself to help the next patient. She liked him a lot. He never seemed to judge her, was open, kind, and understanding, but provided the same level of detailed care to every one of his patients. It was a big part of what made him so sought after in the first place.

"It seems pretty bad," Jared mumbled once they were alone again. He tried to bite back the rising jealousy at his following words: "He's recommending a matching service, isn't he?" She nodded, and he felt a little queasy. "Is that what you want?"

"No," she said, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to give myself to any Alpha to survive. But because I've never been with an Alpha at all, my condition is worse. I'm afraid the choice will be taken from me."

Jared licked his lips and leaned forward, ready to take the chance and offer himself to her, "Y/N, I-"

His phone ringing made him squeeze his eyes shut and curse. As he answered the phone, Jared's body slumped, and Y/N knew he would have to leave.

"-I have to go," he finished lamely, flashing her an apologetic look.

"Duty calls," she chuckled, attempting again to lighten a rather heavy mood.

He laughed with a light sparkle in his eyes. Even though he was a rather large Alpha, she felt comfortable around him. Conversation flowed easily, and she found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn't felt with anyone before. She was almost sad when her treatment finished, and he bid her farewell. Her eyes followed him until he disappeared from her sight.

Maybe it's for the best, she thought, that he leaves before her Omega reaches out for him with dying desperation, ignoring the lingering flutter in her chest. Regardless, she hoped she might see him again, not from within the drunk tank.

-

Jared checked his watch, hurrying his steps toward the hospital's entrance. He did his best to try and calm his racing heart. Jared scheduled his donations for several weeks to coincide with Y/N's treatments.

After their third visit, Dr. Collins pulled him aside to say that she'd been improving with Jared's visits and that the treatments were becoming more effective. However, they still wouldn't tell him if she received his enzymes, so Jared made sure to be there for her.

She was utterly alone, he learned. And her drinking that kept landing her in jail was a failed coping mechanism. She was spiraling toward a painful end. The more he knew and the more time he spent with her, the stronger the pull between them became.

Maybe it was because they were both without a mate. Perhaps it was because they were both dealing with their bodies degrading. But he held on to the slight hope that maybe they were compatible, and that's why their visits always felt like the highlight of his week.

He was nervous as he reached the treatment floor. He was excited to see Y/N and had been working up the nerve over the past two weeks. This time, he was ready; he would go for it and ask her out. Their connection was strong, and he'd been attracted to her since he first saw her. Finally, things were aligning.

As he entered the clinic, his heart sank. He did not see Y/N anywhere among those receiving treatment. He knew it was the right day, the same as it had always been. Checking his watch once more, he frowned. Turning to the receptionist's desk, he gave his name and signed in on the sheet. While the woman behind the desk typed on her computer, he took a moment to glance over the sign-in sheet, not seeing her name anywhere.

Maybe she had other things going on and had to reschedule her appointment. Jared forced back his despondency, deciding to show up earlier the following week. As he sat through his donation, his mind overthinking in circles and lamenting her absence, the most primal side of his inner Alpha began to wake for the first time in years.

-

Jared tried to focus on the paperwork at his desk, but he was restless, his inner Alpha rising to the forefront increasingly with each passing day. He could feel Jensen's eyes boring into him, but he did his best to ignore it. Jensen was increasingly concerned as he watched his Alpha friend unravel before him. He wasn't even sure Jared was aware of the huffs and growls falling from his lips sporadically, his scent permeating everything around him.

"What?" Jared growled at his friend and co-worker with bared teeth. At Jensen's raised brow, Jared tried to compose himself. "I'm sorry."

"Man, I've never seen you like this," Jensen said. "Not even after Gen."

"I know," Jared responded defensively, trying not to bristle at the mention of his former mate.

"Have you seen Y/N lately?"

Jensen didn't want to bring her up, but she hadn't been in jail in weeks. While grateful for that, he could see how badly it affected Jared not to see or be around her.

"She wasn't at the clinic," Jared mumbled, seeing Jensen's curious look. Remembering no one knew, he decided to talk it out with a friend. "She goes to the clinic for Omega treatment," he explained. "I've seen her when I go for donations, but she wasn't there this week."

"Look, I don't want you snapping my head off. But you're different around her, and now that she's not around, you're not looking great. I thought it was just a crush, but maybe you've imprinted," Jensen said as Jared scowled. "Maybe she's yours."

Jared tried to ignore how those words affected him, making him purr at the thought of her being his. He'd entertained the idea himself, the fantastical notion of True Mates. He tried to brush it off as silly, immature musings. But now, hearing Jensen vocalize the same thoughts, Jared wondered if maybe it wasn't just childish notions grounded in something genuine.

When Jared didn't speak and returned to work, Jensen let it go. However, he was determined to keep an eye on his friend and help if needed. He didn't want to see Jared spin out like he did when he lost his mate, Gen. Maybe Jared and Y/N could save each other from a fate worse than death.

-

As promised to himself, Jared returned to the clinic the following week, an hour before he or Y/N were usually scheduled to be there. He sat and waited, completed his donation, and waited another hour beyond the end of his appointment.

But Y/N never showed.

His Alpha was beginning to spin out of his control. A control he maintained so tightly and with relative ease most of his life was now being stripped away in his worry over Y/N. An Omega. One that his Alpha wanted to claim as its own.

He continued going to work each day, both happy and sad that she was never there. He visited the clinic daily to see if her schedule had changed, but she was absent. He briefly entertained the idea of showing up at her door, but he stopped himself. As much as he may care about and want her, she wasn't his Omega. She wasn't his anything, and he had no right to show up. If anything, she might consider it an abuse of his knowledge or power as a deputy, and he certainly didn't want that either.

By the time of his next appointment, Jared was a mess. His Alpha was now at the forefront. He felt almost on the cusp of a rut and wasn't due for some time. The looks from the hospital staff irritated him further as he huffed and stomped his way into the clinic, wiping the ever-present sweat from his brow. It took all he had to contain himself when Dr. Collins refused his weekly donation and sent him home.

He decided to call out of work that night, his rut on the cusp, his Alpha barely restrained. He never called out of work, keeping himself to a strict and disciplined schedule and lifestyle - his way of controlling the beast.

Jared was interrupted from his musings by the phone ringing. He scowled, checking the ID and seeing it was the station. He laid back on the couch with a groan, wiping the sweat from his brow before answering.

"I told you I was too sick to come in tonight," Jared nearly growled.

"I know. But your lady friend found herself locked up again." It was Jensen. "She wanted me to call you."

That had him sitting upright, clutching the phone a little tighter. "She okay?" he asked, jumping up from the couch and rushing to put on his shoes.

"Drunk," Jensen sighed into the phone. "Not as lively as usual, though."

Jared slammed his door as he hastened to his truck, eager to see her and hoping she was okay. His Alpha was chomping at the bit.

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

God, he couldn't be anything but happy she was alive. He slowly drove himself mad for weeks, wondering if he'd missed his chance. Maybe she was going feral, and he couldn't help. Perhaps he did something to piss her off, and she was avoiding him. But now, at least, he knew she was alive and out in the world and asking for HIM. His Alpha puffed with pride, ready to answer his Omega's call.

He barely had the truck in park before hopping out, his long legs marching hurriedly to the station doors. He banged on the glass of the locked front door with an open palm, shuffling from foot to foot as he waited for entry. The bright lights around the law enforcement facility thoroughly polluted the dark of night.

As the door opened, Jared met Jensen's eyes, which roamed him from head to toe and back again. Jared squirmed under the scrutiny, knowing he was a mess. His hair was wild and matted with sweat. His clothes and body were drenched in pheromones, making Jensen's nose crinkle.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jared nodded and swallowed hard, taking several breaths to try and calm himself.

Jensen hesitated momentarily, eyeing Jared warily before huffing and letting him in. Jared followed hot on his heels as Jensen unlocked doors and led the way into the holding cell.

Jared froze as soon as his eyes landed on her. She was huddled in the corner, looking far worse than he'd ever seen her. She was undoubtedly drunk, but by the smells permeating every corner of the room, he knew it was more than just alcohol that was making her so lethargic.

"Y/N?" he called out loudly as he clung to the bars.

She stirred and grunted but didn't respond beyond that. Jared's nostrils flared, his Alpha ready to pry the bars apart to get to her.

"Omega?" he whimpered under his breath as if saying it were a delicate secret.

Hearing her title, she sat up slightly, fluttering open her eyes to lock on the source. She took a deep breath at the slight whine from the Alpha on the other side of the bars. As her vision cleared and her body filled with his scent, she rose, stumbling to him. When her smaller hands clutched at the bars, he automatically moved to cover hers with his own, drawing a small whimper from the fragile Omega.

"Sorry, Padadeputy," she smirked, finally meeting his eyes. "I didn't have anyone else to call."

He could see unspoken pain in her eyes, could sense just how bad her condition had gotten and how worse she was making it from drinking. He reluctantly released her, stepping back from the bars and turning to Jensen.

"Let her out," Jared asked but with a commanding Alpha edge. "I'll take her home."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Jensen protested.

"I don't care what you think," Jared growled. "I'm taking her home where she can sleep it off. You don't know her condition, man."

"And you do?" Jensen asked surprisingly calmly, though his look was anything but.

"Yes, I do," Jared stood tall, squaring his shoulders. "I won't hurt her."

Jensen was still hesitant. But in the end, he trusted his friend. Jared had always been thoughtful and in control in a way Jensen envied. If he could trust anyone with her care, it was Jared. Besides, whatever the Hell was going on with her, she'd certainly do better at home than in a cold, concrete cell.

With a nod and a huff, Jensen relented, turning to the cell door and opening it up, letting Y/N out.

She smiled at Jensen, "Thank you, Ocifer Ankles." She grinned, making Jensen roll his eyes.

"Just get her home safe, okay?"

"Promise," Jared nodded, wrapping an arm around Y/N to steady her as they left the building and walked to his truck.

He secured her safely in the passenger's seat, closed the door, and jogged to the driver's side. He hopped in and started up the truck but leaned back in his seat with a huff, taking a deep breath.

He turned to Y/N, surprised to find her already looking at him. "You called for me," he breathed out, more a statement than a question.

"Well, I didn't have your number," she fidgeted with her hands. “I didn't know anyone else and wanted to go home."

"I haven't seen you in weeks-"

He stopped as her hand landed on his, squeezing lightly. "I'm sorry," she said. “I'll explain everything. Please, take me home."

He agreed, guiding the truck onto the road and quickly remembering the route to her house. He may not have gone there, but he traveled the path in his mind often enough. He was pleasantly surprised that she held his hand the whole ride, even if her attention was on the passing scenery.

Parking in the driveway, they both got out. Y/N quickly took Jared by the hand again as she led him into her house. Guiding him to the couch, she went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. He was already missing her touch and warmth, her presence beside him. He fought the urge to wander into the kitchen and forced himself to sit on the couch.

She knew there was a lot to tell him. She could tell he was riled, and she wasn't entirely surprised. During his visits, they talked and grew more familiar, and Y/N began to entertain the thought of having an Alpha. It was hard for her not to see him in weeks, and she could see that it also affected him.

Pouring the coffee into two mugs, she carried them to the living room, handing Jared one before sitting on the couch facing him.

"Jared," she started, and he purred at hearing his name from her lips. "I'm sorry if I made things awkward by calling you."

"What?" he said, setting his mug on the small table and paying attention to her. "You didn't. I'm glad you called."

She smiled bashfully, "I'm sorry I haven't been to treatment in a while."

"What happened, Y/N?" he asked, still worried but needing to know why she was gone.

"My heat's trying to break through," she explained. "It's been a long time since I've had one because of medications. It didn't hit fully, but what started to break through was enough to make me sick."

Jared's breathing picked up as he listened to her words. His Alpha was going into a panic again. He knew something was wrong. If it was her heat, he could've helped. He can help.

"I was admitted to the Omega wing at the hospital," seeing him getting worked up, she tried to calm him. "They got it managed and switched my meds. It's been trying to worm to the surface for weeks."

"Eventually, it'll come back full force, though, right?" he swallowed hard at the question, knowing full well how painful and possibly fatal a heat for her could be. He had thoroughly researched her condition, and it only made him more sure they met for a reason.

"I've never had an Alpha, Jared. I've never even been with one before." 

He let out a deep growl at her statement, which was more a call to her womanhood than something scary. He wasn't fully aware he'd done it until he saw her body respond. Taking a chance and testing the waters, she set her cup on the table and scooted closer to him. Leaning in, she lay her head on his chest, her arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. She breathed in deeply, blatantly scenting him and humming in satisfaction and comfort.

Jared set his mug aside and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her close. He leaned down to scent her hair as she breathed in his scent, an involuntary groan ripping from his lips. In his youth, he would have been eager to take and claim. Now, there was only calm and peace, her scent and warmth soothing the primal beast within.

"You know I had an Omega before," Jared's voice rumbled in his chest. "It shames me to say this, but it never felt like this."

"I know what you mean," she responded, squeezing him a little, making him hold her closer. “I've never felt such compatibility before. I can usually resist Alphas, but with you…"

True mates, Jared's mind offered, but he remained silent. As the conversation quieted, he moved to retrieve the remote from the table, putting something on to watch until she was ready to sleep. It didn't take long for her to pass out. Jared carefully moved, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to her bedroom. He tucked her under the covers, standing over her as she settled into comfort.

He knew this was when he should leave but he couldn't move his feet. His eyes drifted over Y/N’s face, settled peacefully in slumber, before looking over her shape and form, hidden by the covers. She was beautiful, her scent sweet and enticing. His muscles twitched as he fought the urge to crawl beside her, his Alpha yearning to make her his.

He could leave, he supposed, and he probably should. But he didn't want to, and he reasoned that Y/N probably needed someone to look after her anyway. So, returning to the living room, he kicked off his shoes and settled on the couch. He was asleep in a matter of minutes, her scent surrounding him and providing him with much-needed comfort.

-

Jared woke suddenly in the middle of the night, a second of confusion clouding his mind before he realized why he had woken. Drenched in sweat, he discovered his rut had finally broken in his relaxed state. Although he could smell himself—sweating in the same clothes for two days and soaked once more—her delectable scent still permeated everything.

Now fully awake, he sat upright on the couch, cradling his aching head. His Alpha was desperate to go to her, sneak into her room, and ease their suffering. But he also didn't want to scare her or ruin what they were starting to develop between them. He wouldn't let himself lose control with her. But if he stayed there much longer, the choice might be taken from him.

Mind made up, he searched for a scrap of paper and something to write with, hastily jotting down his number and that he'd see her at the next treatment appointment the following day. He placed the note on the coffee table and forced his feet towards the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, his forehead leaning against the cool door. His Alpha was screaming at him not to do this or leave her.

With his last bought of strength and willpower, he opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him as he forced his feet toward his truck, hoping to sleep it off at home.

-

When she woke in the morning, she felt awful. She knew right away that her heat had broken. She feared this would be the one the doctor had warned her about - the one that would drive her feral. She could faintly smell Jared, and her body forced her to crawl from the bed and towards the source.

She stumbled to the living room like a zombie on automatic. She was surprised not to find him there when she reached the couch. Maybe he was in the bathroom? She glanced at the coffee table, seeing a paper. Dashing to grab it, she read the hastily scribbled note from Jared.

He had to go but would see her at her next appointment. That was tomorrow afternoon. Her Omega whined in protest of his absence. His scent lingered, and she crawled onto the couch, wrapping herself in the throw and drowning in his potent scent. It seemed to seep into everything fabric he touched and slept upon.

As Jared's rich, Alpha scent filled her lungs, her heat slammed into her with a ferocity that terrified her. The pain compounded with heartbreak over the perceived rejection from his departure. His scent ramped up her body from desire to urgent need as a pitiful whine escaped her parted lips.

With hazy images in her mind's eye, her hand wandered down her body and between her thighs, desperate for any form of relief from the burning within her. She came hard with Jared's name on her lips but was still unsatisfied and yearning. Already feeling tired and drained, she forced her fingers to continue, her wetness more than she'd ever felt before. A brief, alarming worry flashed through her before a second climax erased all thought. Again, it wasn't quite enough, but it eased her pain just enough for her to fall asleep.

-

Jared rushed toward the clinic doors, his heart racing. Ever since he'd left Y/N's house, he'd been itching to see her again, to just be near her. He'd showered twice and doused himself in scent blockers, knowing they wouldn't let him stay if he was in a rut. But he'd promised to see her. He couldn't donate in his condition, but he could keep her company and show her he could be trusted.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Jared walked into the clinic, his eyes flitting about, looking for her. He didn't see or scent her anywhere. Glancing at the clock, he reviewed the sign-in sheet, but her name was not listed. A sinking dread filled his stomach, and he was unaware of his worried Alpha scent growing and filling the space, drawing unwanted attention.

Jared rechecked his phone, but there were no calls or texts. He sent Y/N a text as he began to panic. Maybe he shouldn't have left. Maybe he should go to her house and see if she was okay. His spiraling panic had amped his rut again, the blockers now useless against the many emotions and pheromones clogging the air.

Nurse Benedict - a small but kind man - approached him warily, and Jared looked around to see him drawing attention.

"Hey, Jared," he spoke calmly with a soft smile. "You shouldn't be here in your condition."

Jared could see several patients eyeing him warily, and he knew he was making them uncomfortable.

"I—I'm sorry," he apologized and reluctantly forced himself to leave. The familiar voice of Dr. Collins stopped him at the door.

"Jared?"

Misha had just stepped off the elevators leading to the hospital. Jared's nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated as he caught Y/N's scent from the smaller male. His rut was still simmering under the surface, and her scent on another man—regardless of whom—exacerbated it. 

The Alpha within gained the upper hand as Jared rushed Misha, pinning him against the wall with his forearm across the smaller male’s throat, baring his teeth in warning as he growled. 

“Where is she?”

“Who?” Misha squeaked, urging Jared to loosen his hold enough for him to speak. “Who are you looking for, Jared?”

“Y/N. Where is Y/N? I can smell her all over you. Did you touch what’s mine?” 

Misha knew Jared was deep into his rut. Moreover, his apparent instincts over Y/N further confirmed his suspicions about the pair. 

“Dr. Collins,” Nurse Benedict said, and Misha raised his hand to urge him to stay back. “Should I call security?”

“No. Thank you, Rob. We’re fine. Just need a little space to talk, is all.”

Misha remained calm as Nurse Benedict backed away, leaving him and Jared alone. Jared relaxed and released Misha, a part of him sensing his anger was misplaced. 

"Is she here?" Jared growled, unable to maintain pleasantries. 

Even his logical mind screamed that he was her doctor, for crying out loud. Dr. Collins looked Jared up and down before glancing down the hallway to see Nurse Benedict still watching the scene.

"Come with me," Misha insisted, gesturing for Jared to follow him onto the elevator. Pressing the floor button, the elevator doors closed, leaving the two men alone. "She's on the Omega treatment floor; she was brought in the middle of the night by ambulance."

Guilt slammed into him hard; he knew he shouldn't have left. He was trying to be respectful, but it may have been what sent her there. He couldn't lose her. Not when he'd finally let himself believe they could have something.

The bell chimed, indicating they'd reached their floor as the doors opened again. Jared followed Y/N's doctor in silence. He wasn't her Alpha and wouldn't be allowed to see her or even be on the floor, especially in his condition. But he trusted Misha and didn't want to get thrown out. So he stayed quiet and followed a very close step behind.

Jared tried to tamper down his Alpha as the overwhelming scents of Omegas and their Alphas assaulted him. While he could scent they mainly were bonded, the pheromones had him wanting to fight or fuck it out.

“Dr. Collins?”

A brunette female doctor greeted Misha as they stopped in the hall. Her gaze flicked over Jared questioningly before returning to Misha in confusion. Jared was finding it difficult to control himself when they reached the floor, and everyone was looking at him or scurrying away, his scent potent and alarming.

“Dr. Rhodes,” Misha greeted with a smile. “This is Jared. We’re here for Y/N Y/L/N.”

Dr. Rhodes was slightly concerned and upset over the situation, not to mention the visible marks on Misha’s neck. She was almost sure this was a dangerous Alpha and her colleague was being coerced. Pulling a syringe stealthily from her coat pocket, Dr. Rhodes attempted to inject Jared with a sedative. Jared was too quick - years of police training made him ever aware of possible danger - and he pinned her to the wall, just like he had with Misha, growling and squeezing her wrist until she cried out in pain and dropped the syringe.

“Jared, let her go.”

Expecting Misha, Jared was surprised to see Jensen beside him, still in uniform. Jared eased his grip, glancing at Misha and seeing the fear in his eyes. He forced himself to release the doctor and backed away from her, his eyes flashing between her and Dr. Collins. Dr. Rhodes rubbed her aching wrist as she eyed Jared warily.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I came in with the ambulance after the emergency call,” Jensen explained, trying to control his anger. “I let her go home with you, and then I get a call there’s an emergency at her house. I thought you lost control like in the past and possibly did something.”

By the time he finished speaking, Jensen’s shoulders slumped, knowing his words would strike a chord with his friend. Jared was certainly pissed and hurt at the insinuation.

“I left because I didn’t want to force her into anything. I was losing my mind, and I left,” Jared yelled, tugging at his hair in frustration. His arms dropped to his sides, and he started to cry. “I did this to her by leaving. This is my fault.”

Jared dropped to his knees and cried into his hands. He tried to do the right thing by her, but she ended up hurt anyway. Jensen tried to comfort him, helping him to his feet. Jared wiped his eyes and struggled to control his emotions.

“Please,” Jared turned to Doctors Rhodes and Collins. “Please let me see her. She needs me, and I can fix this.”

“She’s unmated,” Dr. Rhodes snapped. “We can’t have an unmated Alpha in a rut here.”

“He’s her donor.”

“Excuse me?” Jared and Dr. Rhodes spoke at the same time.

Jared was just as surprised at Misha’s words; he and Dr. Rhodes both anticipated Dr. Collins's response.

“Y/N’s body rejected everything we gave her until she received Jared’s enzymes. It’s what has kept her alive this long. They are highly compatible.”

Highly compatible—a modern, scientific term to replace the adage of ‘True Mates.’ As Dr. Collins and Dr. Rhodes argued over professionalism and ethics, Jared’s mind tuned them out. Y/N was his—he just knew it, and she needed him. He couldn’t fathom losing another mate; he would surely go feral.

As they continued debating, Jared slipped away. In a trance, he let his nose and instincts guide him, finding Y/N’s room with ease. He entered the room, glancing back at the doctors before mostly closing the door behind him.

The sight of her lying in bed, covered in sweat and groaning in pain, broke his heart. But the luscious scent of her heat called out to him, drawing him closer until he stood beside her bed.

“Omega,” he breathed out, more of a growl that made her body jerk and her eyes flutter open with a groan.

“Jared?” she weakly asked, shuddering from cramps and fever.

Jared took her hand, the heat of her skin scorching. She sighed, and her body relaxed. After only a few moments, he watched in amazement as her vitals settled to something more normal, though her scent grew more potent.

“You left,” she croaked, pulling her hand from his hold, making him frown. “You rejected me.”

Jared was horrified, her perceived rejection making his heart clench painfully.

“No,” he insisted, retaking her hand and urging her to look at him, “No, Omega. I would never reject you. I didn’t want to take advantage.”

Drs. Rhodes and Collins entered the room, and Jared looked sheepish and caught but refused to move from Y/N’s side.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be in here without authorization,” Dr. Rhodes spoke, Misha just beside her.

Jensen appeared again, grabbing Jared by the arm and trying to lead him from the room, “I’m sorry, Jared. I have to take you out of here. Don’t make it difficult, okay?”

“I’m an authorized donor,” Jared thought quickly on his feet. “You said she was getting my enzymes, right?” he spoke, fighting against Jensen’s hold.

“We could do a direct enzyme infusion,” Misha suggested to his colleague. “Kim, we have to do something. He can help.”

“The infusion would help,” Dr. Rhodes offered. 

“No,” Y/N spoke again. “I’m a broken and rejected Omega. I don’t want to go through this anymore.”

“Maybe we can give them a chance to talk?” Dr. Collins spoke with his colleague, seeing she was at least considering. No one wanted to see someone die because they couldn’t be matched or mated. 

“We should run tests,” Dr. Rhodes offered with a sigh, both Misha and Jared relieved she seemed to be on board finally.  “If they are compatible, they should mate as soon as possible.”

Jared was grateful they were bending the rules. As they all left the room, Jared felt the urgency of convincing Y/N that they could do this - could mate and be together if she wanted.

Holding her hand firmly in his, he cupped her cheek with his other hand, urging her to look at him. He took a moment to caress and soak in her features and scent.

“I left because you smelled so good I was afraid I’d lose control and do something you didn’t want. But I would very much like to be your Alpha.”

“I woke up, and I scented you,” Y/N explained. “But you weren’t there. I lay on the couch. I needed your scent.”

She fought back tears, and Jared did his best to soothe her from his position.

“The idea of having an Alpha, of belonging to them, terrifies me. I never wanted it, and now I’m paying for that. But then you came along, and I wasn’t afraid. I was drawn and curious but never afraid.” 

She let her tears fall then but smiled warmly at Jared, squeezing his hand.  Jared’s heart swelled. He shouldn’t have left, but now he’d get a second chance.

“Will you let me claim you?” He asked, needing to be bonded with her and knowing her body needed it too.

Before she could respond, two Beta nurses entered with Dr. Rhodes behind them, “So, are we doing the transfusion?”

Y/N and Jared held each others’ gaze for a long moment before Y/N turned to the doctor.

“Yes.”

Y/N looked back to Jared, who kissed her hand and moved into a chair beside the bed. The nurses set up IVs and a machine to feed Jared’s enzymes to stabilize her.

“As soon as possible,” Jared whispered just for her, “I’ll get you home and take care of you.”

The implications of his promise made her shiver. The staff left them alone while the transfusion was going on. However, after several minutes, Y/N looked like she was about to pass out as the alarms started blaring. Jared was out of his seat and at her side in a flash, cupping her face and trying to rouse her. The nurses and doctor rushed in, pushing Jared back into his chair as they checked her over. Her scent blossomed, almost choking him, and he detected the bitter tones of her heat on the verge of turning feral.

“The transfusion isn’t enough,” Dr. Rhodes explained to Jared.

“She needs a claim,” he understood, his feet pulling him closer to her. “Can I take her home?”

He couldn’t lose her, and he couldn’t survive losing another mate. He felt blessed at having found her, but now he felt cursed to know only loss. He knew it would save her if he could mate and claim her.

“She’s not stable enough to leave,” the doctor explained. “But I can secure the room and give you privacy,” she offered instead.

Jared could only nod, his Alpha ready to care for his mate, his scent informing all others to keep their distance. The doctor rushed off, giving Jared a wide berth and securing the door behind her as promised.

“Y/N?” Jared urged, trying to get her to focus on him, to at least hear him. “Omega?”

His voice was tinged with both whine and growl as he let his instincts guide him. He leaned down over Y/N and kissed her chaste but deeply.

“Alpha,” she whispered as her body sought him out.

“My true mate,” he whispered back reverently. “Not how I wanted this to go, but I can’t lose you. Need to mate and claim you.”

She shook her head, fighting to stay coherent and awake as the heat raced through her body. Her utter desperation for the Alpha before her was the only thing tethering her to wakefulness. 

“It’s too fast,” she protested, a tiny sliver of rationality clinging to her consciousness. 

“You’re dying,” he responded bluntly. “You would have had to have someone assigned as your mate. We’ll never get to know each other if you’re dead. I can’t let that happen when I can help you.” He held her face in his hands, his forehead pressed to hers. “Omega, please.”

“Jared,” she breathed, giving in to her body’s needs and tilting her head to kiss him. He responded in kind, his Alpha chomping to make her his. “Alpha, please. Need you. Need-”

Her voice trailed off as a painful cramp seized hold, making her whine and whimper. Jumping to action, Jared removed his shoes and hastily removed his clothes, leaving him in his boxer briefs. He pulled down the blankets and pushed up her hospital gown to her stomach. Her folds glistened in the harsh light, her scent potent and slamming into him hard. He breathed deep, his body shuddering.

Crawling on the bed to hover over her, she automatically spread her legs, Jared’s hand finding her core. Slipping two fingers inside, he groaned, feeling her soaked and more than ready for him.

She whined and squirmed, the fever taking hold. Jared would have reveled in her desperation and submission, but now was not the time or place. He removed her clothes and climbed on the small bed, settling between her legs and pulling the covers over them for modesty.

His hard and heavy cock twitched eagerly against her hot and drenched folds. Without hesitation, he slid within her, groaning at the delectable feel of her heat wrapped around him. She whimpered again, and he shushed her, kissing her sweet as he began to move.

It was desperate and clinical, feeding primal needs and alleviating both their near-feral biologies. Y/N still felt better than anyone he’d ever had, and he promised himself the romance would come later when they were both safely out of danger.

“Alpha,” she called out, her legs spreading wider, letting Jared slide even deeper. “Alpha, need your knot!”

Jared groaned long and deep, burying his face in her neck as he picked up his pace. The small bed creaked with his every movement. Her hands on his ass, pulling him even closer, reminded him of her desperation and his own.

“Gonna knot and mark you, Omega,” he warned, his knot already swelling, making it more challenging to fuck her how they needed. Feeling her grow close, he slipped a hand between them, rubbing tight and fast circles on her clit.

Her body tensed, right on the edge, and Jared could no longer hold off.

“Omega,” he groaned, his knot popping and locking them together.

As his teeth sank into her neck, marking her as his and bonding them, she came loud and hard, gushing around his knot.

They both lay panting, waiting for Jared’s knot to recede. Jared licked and kissed her wound, allowing his instincts to guide him, his heart full in a way he never thought possible after his loss. Once his knot released, he moved from the bed, dressed, and cleaned them up. When done, Y/N slept, and Jared ran to get someone to check to ensure she was okay.

He knew she would need more than one round to heal, but he hoped he could take her home, where it would be more comfortable and private. Jared rushed out of the room to find Drs. Rhodes and Collins who paused their speech when they saw him.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Rhodes looked concerned.

“She’s sleeping,” Jared offered.

“I’ll just go check on her.”

Jared followed into Y/N’s room, and Dr. Collins was close behind. They both stood by patiently as Dr. Rhodes examined Y/N.

“She seems better,” Dr. Rhodes announced. “I’ll need to draw some blood, and we’ll need to keep her for observation for a few hours.”

Jared tensed but nodded. He didn’t want to be in the hospital any longer than necessary and just wanted to get her into a comfortable bed where he could tend to her every need and bring her back to life. But he could force himself to wait a few more hours for Y/N’s sake. He’d rather know she was stabilized before he removed her from the place that could save her if something went wrong. 

“Try to get some rest,” Misha insisted as Y/N’s blood was drawn. “You both need your strength.”

Once again, they were left alone, the door secured behind them. It was easier to control his instincts now that they were bonded, but it still took effort to restrain himself from those having to touch or go near his mate.

Jared took residence in his chair again, scooting it as close as possible to the bed so he could hold Y/N’s hand as she slept. He laid his head on her belly, watching her as she slumbered. It wasn’t long before he drifted off to sleep with her.

-

It took half a day and a second round before Y/N was stable enough to leave the hospital. The second she was wheeled outside—per hospital protocol—Jared scooped her from the chair into his arms and carried her to his waiting truck, tucking her safely inside.

Y/N was more than surprised when Jared pulled into her home's driveway. She expected as an Alpha - and her Alpha - that he’d want her in his space. Most Alphas were territorial in that way. Before she could vocalize a word, Jared was out of the truck and at her side, carrying her in his arms again towards her front door.

“I wanted you to be comfortable,” he explained as he opened her door. She was surprised he had her keys, but she supposed she was pretty out of it and was grateful she had someone looking out for her. “I figured you’d want to be in your space for now.”

It would take some getting used to. But as her eyes trailed over Jared’s body as he stood from laying her on the couch, she was thankful to have been blessed with such an attractive and caring mate. But her mood was soured as she smelled herself, a mix of her heat, sex, and not having showered in a couple of days.

“I want a shower,” she whined, her stomach gurgling loudly. “And something to eat.”

“Okay,” Jared readily agreed, ready to help her off the couch. “Why don’t we shower first, and then I’ll make us something to eat?”

“Jared,” she protested. “You don’t have to.”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he gently argued. “Please, Omega, let me take care of you?”

He pulled her to her feet, his arms wrapped around her securely. She swooned at his rich and calming scent as he quietly purred to soothe her.

“Yes, Alpha.” She smiled warmly at him, and Jared gave in to his urge to kiss her.

In the hospital, she was so out of it that she could barely remember them mating, let alone his kiss. She could feel the pulse in her neck from his bite, reminding her it was real. She imagined he was as gone as her when they mated, the urgency overriding all else. Now, however, she could savor his kiss - a kiss that was making her swoon so hard her legs gave out. Luckily, he was swift to scoop her into his arms once again. 

Jared had wanted this - wanted her - for so long since he had first scented her. The first time, he was in the local bar on a rare night out. He had caught her scent wafting over all the others, calling to his inner Alpha that had been dormant for many years. He followed his nose, intent on finding the source. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his heart stuttered. But she left before he could ever approach her.

The second time he saw her, she was locked in the drunk tank. He had reported for an overnight shift and was briefed on the persons in holding. That’s when he learned her name. He spent the entire night with a watchful eye, her scent driving him mad with want. 

Y/N’s second visit to the drunk tank was his third time seeing her, and they spent most of that time in friendly chatting. That’s when Jared began to wonder if he could ever have a chance with this stunning Omega that called to him. It was also the first time he wondered what demons had led her to drink and be locked up. That’s when he tried to rid himself of the idea of her as ever being his. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake her from his mind, her scent ingrained in him.

As he set her down in the bathroom and turned on the shower, Y/N began stripping her dirty and sweat-soaked clothes. When Jared turned back around, finally satisfied with the water temperature, Y/N was naked and smiling shyly. He couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming her nude body, finally able and allowed to view and appreciate every inch of her - and appreciate he did.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathed heavily, removing his clothes as he watched her eyes devour him in turn. “My Omega.”

A shiver ran through Y/N’s body at Jared’s Alpha tone, laced with his desire for her. They both took their time appreciating each other's bodies. Y/N had never seen a man so fit and toned or a cock so large and - frankly - beautiful, which is something she never thought she’d say. 

As another wave of her heat ramped up, she trusted Jared to help her. Y/N’s mind was foggy, and her body focused only on her basic needs. She could barely stand on her own in the shower. She could smell Jared’s delicious scent all around her, already mingling with hers. His hands, large and warm, delicately cleansed and caressed her skin.

After showering, he dried her down, and she slipped on a silky robe that barely covered her ass but was lightweight and didn’t irritate her frazzled skin. Jared threw on his boxers and t-shirt, knowing she’d need him again soon and not wanting too many layers in their way.

He left her on the couch, searching her kitchen for something to feed them. He opted for eggs and toast, something easy to make and eat. As he gathered the needed items, he noted that there were bottles everywhere he turned. Some bottles were empty, some half full or waiting to be opened. He was more than worried and knew he’d have to ask her about it. Maybe he could help her.

Bringing the plates to the living room, Jared handed her one as he sat on the couch beside her. He observed her as they ate, more than happy that she liked it and ate it all. Without a word, he gathered their dishes and neatly placed them on the coffee table. He planned to wash them at some point, but he needed to confront her about the drinking finally.

“Y/N?” Jared began cautiously, grateful when she eagerly met his gaze. “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life or try to control you; I’m not that kind of Alpha,” he started, her brow furrowed as he continued. “It’s just…all the drinking, the bottles everywhere, ending up in the drunk tank. I’m worried and want to help if you let me.”

She dropped her gaze to her lap as she nodded her head. She had expected it to come up at some point. After all, it was a prominent part of her life lately, and she worried it was all Jared really knew about her from being locked up so much. 

Y/N could only feel safety and comfort from Jared, no judgment or anger. Their bond was new and raw, but she was grateful that she could feel him and knew it was okay to be honest. She met his eyes again and smiled reassuringly.

“For a while, it was the only way I could escape the pain, at least for a little while—mental, emotional, physical pain over my whole situation. I never wanted to be tied to a mate. I didn’t want to be matched to someone I didn’t love or know just to stay alive. I didn’t want to die or hurt myself;  I just wanted to escape. I don’t need to drink, and I never really enjoyed it either. I want to give it up.”

Jared had expected at least a small argument or fight, not immediate acceptance. He placed a hand on top of hers, needing to feel her and reassure her. She flashed him that soft smile again and squeezed his hand back. Now, he felt like she was the one comforting him.

“I mean it,” she insisted. “I fought against this whole thing, but now that we’re mated, I am happy and content. I’m happy it’s you, and I know being mated to you will heal the pain. My health and mood will improve,” She laughed to herself. “It feels so stupid that I fought against it so much. It’s better than I ever thought it could be to be mated to you.”

He couldn’t help it as he leaned in, cupping her cheek and kissing her deeply. To know that she genuinely wanted him as much as he wanted her, after everything and how she felt, she was more than just okay with him claiming her. She was happy; she wanted it, and he wanted her.

Y/N kissed him hungrily, pushing him back into the couch and crawling into his lap as she demanded more. Jared wrapped his arms around her, moaning as she ground her bare, wet folds against his clothed cock. He hastily undid the tie of her robe, brushing it off her shoulders and to the ground. When his hands found her warm flesh, he hummed in satisfaction.

She ground her hips into him as she devoured his mouth, desperate for her Alpha, her heat ramping up again, far from satiated. She ran her hands down his chest and whined at the t-shirt that obscured her from his flesh. Jared caught on quickly, breaking the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. Her fingers trailed over his torso, exploring his flesh as she kissed him deep again.

Her grinding was riling him up quicker than he’d anticipated, her scent and neediness, the desperate sounds she was making, all colliding into a perfect storm that aroused him to no end. But he’d promised her that he’d mate her properly when they were home, and that’s precisely what he intended to do.

Scooping her into his arms, Jared stood and carried Y/N toward the bedroom, finding it hard to focus as she continued grinding against him and nibbling at the sensitive spots on his neck. 

“Naughty little Omega,” Jared playfully chastised as he slapped her ass. She gasped and ground against him harder. “Oh, you are naughty, aren’t you?”

Stepping into the room, he laid her on the bed and removed his boxers before he crawled over her with a smirk. 

“Oh, maybe we can play Cops and Robbers, and you can punish me, Padadeputy,” she teased with a sultry smirk. 

Jared growled and kissed her hard with teeth and tongue, “Next time,” he promised. “I have something else in mind,” he added as he pulled back and rolled her to her stomach. “Promised to claim you proper.”

She attempted to rise and present, but he placed a large hand on her lower back, keeping her flat and prone on the bed. He bent one of her knees, exposing her to him. Using his knees and thighs, he nudged her further until he could settle comfortably on top of her and between her thighs.

Y/N moaned as his weight settled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. She was trapped beneath him, unable to move much in any way. But she wasn’t afraid. Instead, she willingly submitted to her strong and potent Alpha. 

Jared shifted his hips and slowly guided his cock into her tight and wet core. It felt like an eternity before he finally settled deep within her, moving his hips to nudge against her depths. Y/N moaned, her fingers clenched in the sheets. He was so deep, and she felt so incredibly full. 

While they had already mated, it was rushed and fevered, and she was so out of it that she didn’t remember much. Now, however, she could feel every little thing, which seemed deliciously overwhelming: from the emotions, the connection, and the sensations of him nestled inside and around her.

She squirmed desperately beneath him as much as she could. Jared nipped her shoulder, and she went still with a whine. He rewarded her by glacially pulling out and pressing in again just as slowly. She needed more and was growing ravenous, but he had other ideas.

Jared continued his slow and passionate rhythm, his hips rolling like gentle waves lapping at the shore. It felt incredible, and Y/N could feel every detail of his length as he speared her open again and again. But it wasn’t enough to take them anywhere. Instead, Jared held them in the realm of pleasure, near torture, with seemingly no end in sight. It was maddening and divine.

“Tell me how it feels,” Jared whispered as he kissed her neck and shoulders.

“Alpha.”

“Tell me,” he reiterated, nipping at her claim and making her moan.

“Feels big and deep,” she gasped, and another nip told her he wanted more. “Ugh! So thick and hot, splitting me open. Feel like you could break right through into my womb. So full,” she whined into the sheets.

Jared groaned and increased his pace, his hands exploring her body, his mouth tasting everywhere he could reach as he drove them both toward their ends. His body stilled as his knot popped, locking them together as his cum flooded her channel. He leaned in to renew his claim; even the bite was intentional and slow, and Jared savored the pop and burst as her skin broke anew. 

“You did so well, Omega,” Jared praised, shifting them to a spooning position as they waited for his knot to go down. “How are you feeling?” he asked, leaning on an elbow to look down at her.

Y/N met his eyes and marveled at the many colors present and the myriad of emotions reflected back at her. Her heart swelled, and she knew she already loved him. She never knew mating could feel like this like she had found a piece of herself she was missing. Jared was a better Alpha than she ever imagined an Alpha could be. All the pain and suffering was worth it just to find him.

“Lucky, Jared,” she smiled warmly. “I feel so damn lucky.”

FOREVERS:

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[cherry-froggie]

will you be my valentine today?~ [headcanons]

summary — Headcanons for how some Genshin characters will spend the special day with their loved one

characters — xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma

notes - welcome to one of those days of the year when everyone else writes about the same topic, today we will keep the trend; this is my entry to the "happy valentine's day" writing event from the @yae-publishing-house!

MASTERLIST || REQUESTS

XIAO

"A day dedicated to grating your lover with gifts and affection? Is there something special about this day that sets it apart from others?"

All Xiao ever wanted was to simply spend time in your company, free from worries or concerns, and without any distractions or interruptions that could pull you apart. He imagined the perfect Valentine's Day as not much more than a calm and serene occasion, one spent solely with his other half.

A dream that he was fully intent on achieving.

If you ever gifted him with something physical, be it a helpful tool or a small token representative of your love, he would gladly accept it before looking deeply into the windows of your soul with his eyes of vibrant amber. He would hold onto the gifted object and your hand with the most delicate touch. As the two of you exchanged kind and loving looks with one another, he was the happiest.

With a gentle whisper and the evening sun illuminating the inn, he confessed, "I only need you, not these possessions. They mean nothing to me without you by my side." He spoke with a calm smile, a hint of affection and love shimmering within his eyes. As such, he did not expect you to give him anything, not preparing a present in advance.

Do not mistake him not being the most familiar with diverse human practices as a sign that he does not care for or love you as much as you do for him; he was simply naive of the significance of the day as he only came to know about it through Verr Goldet that same morning. But rest assured that he will never forget this day ever again.

However, if you prefer a physical gift, he would take the time to teach you the intricate and delicate art of how to make a butterfly out of nothing but ordinary and simple leaves or offer the rare opportunity to walk around Liyue's vibrant and beautiful fields until he found a flower that he deemed worthy of your beauty, which he would then proudly place on your hair.

Creating something together brought a smile across his lips as he felt his heart swell with joy.

To Xiao, love was all about the memories and moments that formed between you.

ZHONGLI

"It's a day to celebrate the love in our lives and to show appreciation for the special people in it, a reminder that love is a beautiful and powerful thing, and it's important to hold on to it."

Zhongli envisioned the perfect Valentine's Day to be a day filled with leisure and relaxation. He pictured himself walking down the city's beautiful walkways while holding hands with you and talking about everything that made him smile and laugh, taking in the sights and sounds of the many stores and vendors that passed you by. The mere thought of you brought a sense of joy to his heart, and he was almost lost in thought, so much so that his mind was empty and quiet.

You would then stop off at the Wanmin restaurant, and a most delicious, mouthwatering meal awaited the two of you, accompanied by the stories the storyteller had to offer.

You would sit down, relax and slowly enjoy the food you ordered, savoring every bite you took. The peaceful atmosphere served as the perfect backdrop for a romantic conversation, one that would allow the two of you to talk about your days and reflect on the beauty of the day in a moment of affection.

As a token of his love for you, he would gift you a beautiful jade hairpin, a symbol of his devotion, a small and delicate gesture to be nothing more than a sweet surprise, one that would allow him to look on with contentment as you wore the jade hairpin with pride.

The beautifully deep and rich jade hairpin, intricately crafted, would have swirling designs that spiraled around it. It would shine in the light like morning dew, representing not just his fondness but his respect and admiration for the beauty and grace that you possessed.

It would be a rare and cherished keepsake, treasured for many years. Indeed, for a lifetime.

Zhongli is a man with both distinct and unique tastes, a person who could identify and even pinpoint things with nothing but the slightest and most faint touch.

He would not expect anything more than a good conversation and the mere act of enjoying one another's company. He was content with simply existing and coexisting with you, no matter the occasion.

If you were to gift him with something, whatever it may be, then he would be overjoyed, grateful to be in the presence of such a wonderful person and lifetime companion.

AYATO

"Love is a precious and important aspect of life. Although I find it a bit excessive to have a specific day dedicated to expressing love, the most important thing is that love is cherished and appreciated, no matter how it is done."

Valentine's Day was of great importance for Ayato since it was a perfect time to celebrate and share the love of his life while escaping from all the duties as he could focus solely on his relationship. His perfect day would be filled with happiness, laughter, and love; one filled with joy and contentment that he would never forget. He wished for this to be a time when he and you could finally connect more intimately.

Ayato would love to spend quality time with you and was nothing but excited for the experience ahead. The two of you would walk across the city's streets as he would feel himself growing in anticipation for your future together.

You stopped at various sites and landmarks, admiring the magnificence of the nature-made wonders that had been erected on the ground you were standing on. The city of Inazuma was a visual marvel to behold; one that many tourists and photographers alike flocked to just to see its natural beauty and unique landscapes.

As he stood before you, the sun's rays burst forth from behind him, illuminating his figure and highlighting his stunning beauty. With each passing moment, his silhouette grew stronger and more radiant, casting an inviting glow that seemed to envelop you in its comforting embrace. Despite the sheer majesty of his presence, there was an understated elegance to his every move, a humble grace. He stood tall and proud, with a confidence that could only be born from knowing that he was truly loved and appreciated. And as you gazed upon him, basking in the radiance of his light, you knew deep in your heart that this was the moment you would always treasure. "My dearest," he began, his voice rich and tranquil, "As we stand here, I am reminded of the many wonders and beauties of this world. And yet, you outshine them all."

You would savor the taste of joy and delight at the moment together, even when the time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Your day would be nothing but joy, and you could find yourselves in an endless state of tranquility and pleasure in one another's presence. There was no rush; you could spend day and night together if it so pleased you. It was all about loving and appreciating each other's presence in whatever way you could.

Ayato was more than grateful for the opportunity to experience such an event with someone as gracious and loving as you. He knew the memories you would make would last forever. Indeed, one thing that Ayato had always loved about you was your natural ability to make him smile so effortlessly.

He contemplated for a while what he would desire from you during this day and found that one gift that would win him over was a delicious cup of milk tea medley especially prepared by you. Such a simple and thoughtful gift would touch his heart.

To him, a gift that would be enough to bring a smile to your face was a bouquet. Nothing too grand or fancy, he just wished for a simple and considerate present; one that would be all he needed to show his deep admiration and devotion.

As the day would finally come to a close, you would sit down and partake in a delicious meal that had been lovingly and carefully prepared by Thoma's hands. He would decorate the room with candles, flowers, and an assortment of exquisite tableware so the setting would be perfect for such a special occasion. He would design the perfect meal with the utmost care, combining elegant cuisine with a gorgeous presentation. The entire scene would create an intimacy and warmth that only you could experience together, leading Ayato to feel a deep sense of overwhelming gratitude and love for you.

You would talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company over a delicious home-cooked meal, and Ayato would think back to all the times he had felt complete and satisfied while in the presence of his beloved.

THOMA

"For me, it's all about making those special to you feel valued and appreciated through small gestures with meaning behind them that touch the heart and warm it up."

Thoma was always a hopeless romantic. He was planning something big to show his love and affection for you.

One surprise he had planned was to take the entire day off from his usual daily activities to spend some time with the one he loved most. He wanted to dedicate the day to you, his much-deserved partner, and he planned to create many new and wonderful memories together.

Thoma's lovely and secret home for the local dogs and kitties is a fascinating site, and he was more than willing to show off his little slice of paradise to you. The cute kittens and the adorable pups were simply the perfect addition to the already heavenly scenery, and Thoma knew that this secret hiding spot was one he could never keep hidden from you.

You would take in the pleasing scenery around you, taking the time to appreciate the stunning natural beauty of it all and the endearing nature of the many animals that inhabited the area. The perfect blend of joy and excitement, combined with the breathtaking nature of the surrounding areas, would bring forth an unforgettable experience and a precious memory to hold onto forever.

As you walked through the countryside hand in hand, you would find yourselves in utter awe and bewilderment at the scenic Inazuman landscape. You would feel the serene breeze brush against your faces and marvel at the lush and lively green grass all around you. You would delightfully take in the fresh country air and the calming peace that awaited you. Thoma would point out the various creatures that populated and dominated the surrounding nature. You would discuss your aspirations and ideals, visions of the future, and hopes for the time ahead.

As the sun would set, Thoma would surprise you with a delicious and romantic dinner, beautifully decorated and lovingly prepared.

You knew he enjoyed escaping into the pages of a good book and finding himself lost in the world of fantasy and imagination that awaited him at the turn of every page. What better gift to give him on such a day than the new works from the Yae Publishing House?

No matter the book, he would find himself deeply invested in the plot and story, no matter how fantastical or unrealistic it may be. He would spend an entire afternoon, or even the full day, just being lost in his imagination as he read and immersed himself in a different world, a world that only existed between two covers, a world gifted from you.

His strength is as grand and unshakable as his faith in love; however, the inside of his heart is as soft and vulnerable as a small kitten. Any loving words directed toward him with such great affection will bring out a side with pleasure and tenderness. Such a proclamation may also be a little overwhelming and surprising, so he might not be able to muster up the courage to say anything in response immediately, but he will be sure to say anything to make you even redder than him.

proof read? no aaaaaaaaa im too tired im sorry i canNOT

and as you read this you think to yourself "another one? where is the epilogue for the forgotten puppet, that kaeya fic promised more than a month ago, the second part of the jealousy headcanons, the 100-follower special fanfic?" LIKE YES I KNOW I KNOW IM SORRY IM TOO MUCH OF A PERFECTIONIST I TAKE LIKE 1 OR 2 DAYS DEDICATED TO WRITE A FULL FIC

"xiao's part is now short" to contrast his height, xiao is the tallest character in the hit game genshin impact I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW I MADE THOMAS PART SO LONG (like xiao)

i'm sorry i AHAHA i need to regain my mental stability THANK YOU EVERYONE SPEND THE DAY IMPACTING GENSHIN CHARACTER'S LOVE LIVES

[senditcolton]

So Tragic and Rare

May (pt. 18)

previous part 🧡 next part masterlist

Rolling Stone Magazine

Keely Halloran is unapologetic. That much is for certain.

Ever since her return to the music scene, Halloran has been upfront about exactly who she is. “It’s honorable,” says Sabrina Carpenter, who has been friends with Halloran for year, back when Halloran was still known as the ‘Pop Princess.’ “Every musician is – at some point – told that you need to enhance certain aspects of yourself while dimming others to make yourself marketable. But Keely rebelled against that idea and she’s successful as ever. I think we could all learn from her.”

But in this, the first interview the rockstar has given since the release of her fourth studio album VINDICTIVE, Halloran reveals a different side to her, confessing that the bravado that many found so admirable may have its downsides.

For most of the year, Halloran has been sticking to locations that she finds comfortable: her recording studio in New York, the stages and suites in TD Garden, even the SNL studios (where Halloran has been invited to thrice now). The rockstar keeps herself busy but for the weekend, she has invited me to come to her hometown of Boston and spend some time in her company.

Today, she has taken me to one of her favorite spots in the historic American city; a cemetery (even now, she is unapologetically herself).

Even though we’re practically strangers, being around Halloran feels like catching up with a childhood friend. She picked me up from the hotel in her blue Nissan Qashqai – a car that she explains lets her move around the crowded streets of Boston discreetly – and in the front cupholders sat a Flat White for me and a Rose Matcha for her from her favorite café, Jonquils on Newbury Street. On the drive, she asked me questions about my life while her playlist filtered through the speakers. We start with Lizzy McAlpine and end with Fleetwood Mac.

She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and told me to dress casually as well. “It’s a cemetery, not the Ritz,” she said, laughing over the phone yesterday when I called to confirm our plans. “I promise, the ghosts won’t care.”

Even though the ghosts may not care about our attire, Halloran makes sure to leave an offering of coins at the first headstone in the cemetery, the plot belonging to ‘the gatekeeper’ who watches over the other spirits residing in the yard. “It’s just something that I learned,” she explains to me, taking a small sip of her drink. “As someone who’s dependent on security guards, I can understand the need for protection.”

It feels almost like she is a character out of fairytale, passed down from antiquity, as she walks along the paths of the cemetery, the early morning summer air ruffling her hair. Those closest to her say that that is a normal feeling to experience, though. Abigail Avignone, her childhood friend who has found success in the interior design business, told me that “No matter how much time you spend with her, you’ll always feel like you’re missing something.”

That’s is truly how it feels. Even though she has been in the spotlight for years and has had her face plastered on magazines, billboards, and every social media site, no one really knows anything about her.

“Once you enter the entertainment industry - music, television, what have you - it's widely accepted that everything about you is now public domain. From the choices you make, to the things you create, to the people you spend time with - hell, even the clothes you wear... it’s all fair game for comment and criticism,” Halloran muses when I broach the subject. “They turn you into a character for whatever narrative they think will sell.”

When I offered praise on how she has been able to push back against that with her reinvention, she just offers a wry smile.

“That wasn’t their narrative – it was mine. And I peddled and sold it just as hard as they do. It was far from the truth. There was never any healing: I was angry still, I was distrustful, I was the exact opposite of what everyone thought I was. I wasn’t being brave. I was scared. I didn’t want to expose the scars that were still healing. My wounds are mine to press on, not theirs.”

Halloran leads me to the greenhouse where she talks to an employee about the small arrangements of flowers prepared for visitors to take and place on the gravestones. The older woman smiles and laughs with Halloran as if they knew each other for years before they are interrupted by a young teenage girl. The teen asks Halloran for a photo which she happily obliges. When she wanders away, head buried back in her cell-phone, Halloran turns to me with the bouquet of white lilies in her hands.

“Hope you’re ready to star in the news stories tomorrow,” she laughs, the sound bright but cutting.

The two of us walk further into the cemetery, me following along as she takes confident turns on the winding path before stopping in front of the grave that belongs to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

“I’ve grown really fond of his works,” Halloran explains, placing the flowers down in front of the headstone. “For a poet from the 1800’s, he actually has some great insight to the life of a celebrity. ‘We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while other judge us by what we have already done.’ That one resonated with me because a few months ago, that was my life. People judged me based on their limited knowledge of my life. All while I knew the truth.”

She mentions therapy, something that she recently brought into her life, calling it one of the greatest investments that she has made in her career as we continue to walk through the expansive plot of land.

“There are plenty of things that I would go back and change. I caused a lot of hurt because I, myself, was hurt. But it was also Longfellow that said ‘look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again.’ If there is anything that anyone can take from this interview, I want it to be that: all that’s left is the present moment and what you do with it.”

Tomorrow, she plans head to her studio in New York. She tells me she’s happy to go back because it was how she processes her feelings, both big and small. Her therapist said this is her practicing displacement; a psychological defense mechanism that involves redirecting an emotion or impulse from it’s original source to a safer more acceptable outlet. She jokes that that is something she’s been doing long before she knew the official name.

In a few hours, she’ll be back in her Beacon Hill brownstone, cuddled up on the couch with her dog Gigi watching re-runs of The Great British Bake-Off – she has been perfecting her own desserts and uses the show for inspiration. But for now, we wander the cemetery, enjoying the warming summer day and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

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[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Thirteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1885 in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Warnings: You and Loki journey to Jotunheim to find the orb. But when events turn for the worse...you decide to ask for help.

Chapter Warnings: Using an oldie but goodie fanfic trope (Court of Mist and Fury does it, so I decided to use it too), some insecurity and mutual pining, and mentions of past cheating with a character who isn't Loki. Fluff and Angst.

A/N: I am not 100 percent certain about the cannon world of Jotunheim, so I threw my hands in the air and cried "fuck it! Give them horses". The next chapters are coming in fast since work was slow and I used the time to write some first drafts. Hence the fast posting.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter

Dressed in your warmest coats and sheathed with daggers, you both went through the portal.

Jotunheim was still as bitter cold as ever. If only Loki could just create a portal within Jotunheim to land you right in the cabin! But no- that wasn’t in his abilities, as he kept reminding you whenever you began to complain. You had to travel through the blasted tundra. You trekked through the sharp wind and snow with Loki for a few hours. Thank goodness your fire floated in your hands and the movement gave you warmth. But you had yet to sense out where the cabin was. And now it was getting dark.

You used a certain creature to travel through- horses only known in Jotunheim. Like a regular horse. Only this one was a little bigger than normal. Bright white as the snow and that had crystals of ice on him. The Jotunheim Horses were immune to the cold- it was where they thrived. In fact, it grazed to eat the snow, swishing its blue tail and mane.

When you both got tired of walking, he used some of the money you had brought to rent a special horse of Jotunheim from a village. Like a regular horse that had crystals on them. Horses that were immune to the cold- it was where they thrived. Only barely larger than normal. You eyed the saddle nervously.

“I never even rode a normal horse before,” you said.

“Now, don’t be nervous my dear- here, I will show you how...” Loki guided.

He helped you up onto the saddle, you in front and him behind. You swung your legs to the side like you saw horsewomen in photographs back home do. He guided the reigns and as you both rode, gave you small instructions- keep your heels down. Stay calm. Flick the reigns to make them go faster, tug to make them stop or go slower. He even let you practice riding it for a couple of miles forward, the horse trotting at a calm pace.

“We’ve traveled for hours…but we cannot lose our place…” Loki said.

He checked the book again.

“It should be close…but it means it’s several hours of riding…”

He looked at you shivering.

“And we’ll need to stop…”

There was a city nearby. Some of the Frost Giant people gaped at you, but you ignored their starings. You checked the few inns in town. But it seemed many were full due to Starfall and those traveling to celebrate.

Finally, there was the third and last inn You both went inside, going up to the innkeeper at the wooden desk in the lobby. Her blue skin seemed to shine in the light and her red eyes were bright.

“We have good news, there is one room available for the night…” she announced.

“Oh, wonderful!” you cried.

She looked between you both.

“However, there is a problem…” she began.

There was only one bed. One comfortable, blanketed, bed in that room.

It was far too cold to lie on the floor for hours. You both would have to sleep in it.

Your heart raced a little- something so intimate! Something you would have never agreed to do a year ago…but now, what choice did you have?

Loki had nightclothes conjured for both of you. You fought back the memory of seeing him sleep semi-naked. You both had warm, thick nightgowns that were as white as the Jotunheim snow. You felt your eyes continue to flutter down to see the V of his own nightwear. The little bit of hair that poked out of his chest. But then forced them away.

Once it got dark, you both got into the bed. You and Loki turned around, him staring at the window and you at the wall.

The wind whistled sharply. Outside there were constant flurries of thick snowflakes. The cold air seeped through the room. Contrasting with the warmth of the blankets���and of your bedmate. Turning about, you had not fallen asleep yet. Your mind refusing to shut down despite the long day.

You kept thinking back, despite yourself, remembering the day you first spoke to him. The day he saved you at a price. But there was one little thing he said that still kept bugging you like an itch you weren’t allowed to scratch.

“Loki… are you awake?” you asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Why aren’t you asleep by now?”

You heard him flip over and you followed suit. His dark curls out of the way of his face. Both of you on your sides, facing each other.

“Because I was thinking of the day you appeared to me when we made the bargain.”

“Oh yes…and what made you recall that?”

“Well, the fact we keep ending in each other’s rooms in one way or the other!”

His own eyebrows briefly shot up, and there was a smile on the verge of a little laugh on his face, yet he remained quiet.

“It happened when I first met you- not counting when you were a cat…but there’s one thing you said I still muse on…it still makes me a little mad!” you blurted.

“Which one? My dear, I’m sure I said several things that enraged you back then…” he prodded

“That you were surprised I could talk back just because I’m a woman from my time.”

The other thought that was floating in your head was the memory of the letter to Cora you found- that one phrase that seemed like being stabbed in the gut. The one phrase that solidifed her superiority over you-“You are truly not like other women!”

Loki said no reply but merely listened.

“We’re people, like anyone else. We have feelings, like anyone else. Did you assume Just because we embroider and wear corsets that it means we’re boring or weak? We don’t enjoy being pushed around! We don’t like being mocked or hurt. And perhaps we aren’t all warriors, but that does not mean we are unworthy of respect! You should have seen my mother. I think she was far more in charge of our family than Papa ever was. Even Stella-Stella-said so to me that she wants Grendel and his army to, and I quote, ‘burn in hell.’”

“Norns above…” Loki muttered in reply.

“I can’t blame her after what they did to her…” you commented.

Loki furrowed his brow. He kept listening as you continued.

“It’s usually those who don’t know us who make such judgments. Who won’t even try to get to know us it…it…it’s comments such as these that make me so mad that I…I…”

The rest of the words failed you, and you paused. How much were you ranting about what he said…and how much were you ranting at the phrase in the letter? Perhaps he could tell. You were quite sure your shield was down. Loki only looked at you- realizing he had permission to speak.

“You were right back then. When I met you, I knew Thomas…but I never got to know a woman from your time. I made judgements and even jokes about it…but I didn’t truly know you then. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“Thank you. I forgive you, Loki,” you replied.

You turned around. Facing the wooden wall with a chair and table on the other side. The fireplace in the room was a mere, dying ember. The smoke was so thin, it was nearly invisible.

“I hate to disappoint you, Loki, but there is not much to me other than my magic. I’m just like every other woman…” you said.

You tightened the blanket around you, your knees hugging up to your chest. A lump in your throat. But you heard the trickster god shift forward. His voice right near your ear and his warm body against yours. Part of you fell stiff, yet also…comforted.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he consoled you.

You turned back over to look at him. You accepted his closeness as you faced each other. His nose mere centimeters from your own. His eyes were as blue as the skies of Asgard. You could smell your dinner on his breath.

“There are far worse things in life to be…but…”

His voice went back to that of teasing, a small smile on his face. He had to be at least a little mischievous while he was still awake.

“You could still improve your taste in wedding gowns…” he poked.

You cocked up an eyebrow.

“That’s rich coming from someone who wears ruffled blouses with his tuxedoes!” you shot back.

You both burst into laughter. You could still hear his rich baritone voice in his laughter. You could feel the rumbling in his body, his chest seemed to vibrate with the mirth.

“What can I say? I enjoy dressing with a little bit more flair...” he sad.

You shot him a smug grin.

“Well, if I can wear a ‘monstrosity of lace’ as you called it, you can wear your foppish tuxedoes!” you teased.

He laughed a little more. Then his voice became gentle.

“Though you did look lovely at the ball the other night,” he said.

“As did you,” you replied.

So close…he was so close. You could have just wrapped him in your arms. Perhaps you should have. His closeness made his warmth radiate toward you. Your own thoughts and memories were spoken, and your concerns were heard like the breaking of a long-held dam. And now that it was released, you began to feel sleepy.

You curled up next to each other, merely brushing each other’s skin. Warm and safe despite the howling wind. You whispered goodnight and turned around to your other side. At once, you drifted to sleep.

When you woke up briefly, it was still dark. Perhaps it was early in the morning. You were facing the wall on your side, but something felt different. Something solid and heavy was draped over your waist. Too heavy to be the blankets.

You looked down and realized with a small jolt of your nerves that it was Loki’s muscular arm.

He wrapped an arm around you while asleep.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, you kept repeating silently.

Should you move him? Wake him up? Oh dear lord, you felt his chest and stomach against your backside. If he was asleep it was likely he wouldn’t be…well, aroused. You would be in the uncomfortable position of feeling something against you that you didn’t want to right now. No- it was a sleepy, chaste embrace from behind.

You heard his small snore. Like that of a cat. It was adorable, you had to admit. So no…you didn’t have the heart to move. You felt in his arms that you were safe…no, more than just safe…wanted. Wanted so badly that his subconscious needed you close.

No, YN that’s an illusion, you mused.

And yet…

This is what my life could be…yet he’s a trickster god and full of mischief and flattery, if I became his beloved, he’ll betray me for another…I’m so…so horrible that even a vicar would break what he preaches for another woman’s bed just to get away from me. If that’s what he did, then, what would a god of mischief do!?…and yet-

It was warm and comfortable. If it was an illusion, One that felt real- one that was only real. If only for a few minutes. The embrace was known to husbands and wives and lovers when they slept with limbs entangled. An embrace you were destined to never know… except for now.

Pretending like it was that domestic, loving comfort…you found your own eyes drooping. Back asleep you fell and deeply.

When you woke up that morning, you saw the window on Loki’s side. You felt no arms and no weight anymore on it. It was empty, save for you. The sun seemed especially bright with the snow reflecting off it. It shot into the window, making you squint.

Shifting over in the bed, you realized Loki was already wide awake. Sitting on a chair near the bed, concentrating on the little vanity with a shiny red apple he placed there. With a flick of his hand, the apple vanished in green smoke. Then it would reappear in the next corner. He gave you a smile in greeting.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Practicing, my dear. It’s one thing to make a portal. It’s another thing to make something just vanish and take it somewhere else,” he answered.

“You’re working on it?” you cried.

“Practicing all morning. The furthest is four things that are not me. They can be sent several miles away…”

You felt the soft blanket, pulling it up to your chest.

He then used magic to have the apple reappear. He then placed it in his hand, shined it on his clothes, and took a bite with a loud crunch.

“It’s actually pretty easy. If I do it enough, I can do it without thinking.”

“Hmmm, It’s impressive…but please save an apple for me.”

He conjured one and threw it over to you. You caught it with both hands and thanked him.

After gathering more food, both of you mounted the horse and continued your long ride to the cabin. Stopping when needed, especially to check the map.

By now it was the late afternoon. But since Jotunheim was a land of eternal winter, the sky was dark. The snow kept falling and the cold wind kept howling at your side. But Loki’s company made it seem not as bad.

You finished the last of your bread and wiped the crumbs off of your mouth when you dismounted. Loki smiled as he showed you the map.

“Here- it’s not far…we’re almost there,” he promised.

You got out a carrot. The horse perked its ears. You offered it and the creature bit into it. It seemed that carrots were the universal favorite food of any kind of horse. You smiled and patted his long nose.

“What do you think of riding, my dear?” he asked.

“It’s a little nerve-wracking being on a living animal…but it can be fun. I’d like to learn more about it- I’m rather new and here we are.”

“When we return, I should let you practice with the horses we have. Perhaps I could show you how to ride with your legs over or even bareback! I’ve had years of training, you can trust me as an adequate teacher,” Loki proposed.

“Oh, Loki tell me- What kind of lessons does a prince have? What kind of classes or education? It must be interesting!” you commented.

He smiled at you. Going up to lift a hand to gently stroke the horse, brushing against the smooth ice crystals on its body.

“Well then, I remember there were etiquette lessons. Which is as fun for a little boy as you can imagine, but I managed to do well. Then we learned about how to use a sword and then we had to learn all of the history of-”

FWOOSH!

An arrow landed near your feet. You jolted with a small cry of surprise. The horse let out a cry with a raise of his front legs. Loki grabbed the reigns to try to calm him.

“Where did that come from?!” you cried.

You turned around and saw the answer.

Behind you were four men on Jotunheim horses of their own. The sadistic smiles on their faces and the dark armor on their clothes made your stomach heavy. They continued to ride, as one reached behind to get another arrow for his bow.

The breath stopped in your chest.

“Grendel’s men,” Loki breathed.

At once he threw you onto the horse and then got up himself. It was everything in you not to panic on the spot.

The horse galloped and held onto it for dear life. Looking back at the laughing, already triumphant soldiers with terrified eyes. Then you gritted your teeth in defiance of them. You let out a shaking hand, and the next arrows that were fired, you burned to ash to vanish in the wind.

But they were still gaining speed. The hooves of their own horses are like that of the drums before an execution. Loki kept urging the horse forward, too focused to create a duplicate or an illusion.

As all of you raced, you gained some distance away from them. Then they then fired another arrow. Faster than your flames could catch it.

Loki let out a yell of pain. You screamed out of instinct- an arrow landed in Loki’s right shoulder. It was black, full of grey smoke out of it like it was burning.

“YN, get it out! Quick!” he urged at you.

You let out a gasp and a small cry on instinct. But he kept riding. You turned around, and swiftly jerked it out, Loki letting out another groan of pain.

He then looked at the arrow in your hand, its swirling magic around it. His jaw dropped.

“No!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” you asked.

“t’s a Kunnigr arrow! They are known for eventually draining one of magic!” he explained.

“What?! No!”

Loki shot out only a little green light from his hands.

“It’s still there, but it’s running out…”

He then suddenly stopped the horse. He at once pulled you down to your feet.

“Loki- what are you doing?!” you cried.

He looked at you. Sadness and resolve on his face. Your heart beat hard in your chest. He then grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eye.

“Quick-listen to me- listen to me, YN darling! While I still have a little magic- I’m going to send you far from them. Go. Go find the Cabin. Find the Orb. Here-”

He gave you a pocket watch from his pocket, placing it in your hand.

“When you do, Get a signal to Asgard. Someone will see it- and they will get you.”

“Loki- no! Just transport yourself too! I’m not leaving this realm without you!”

An arrow was shot, and you both narrowly dodged it. But a few inches and- you realized with dread- it would have hit you.

“I am armed, I can fight them- but we’re outnumbered. Their arrows could make you lose your magic. And they won’t stop until they have at least one of us. I only have enough magic to save the horse and the brave woman I made a bargain with. …”

Deep in your gut, you knew he was right. And you hated it. His smile was so beautiful, so sad. You felt as if your heart was both being ripped into pieces and bursting at once.

“This is for you…I’m proud of you, my little mortal.”

“Loki-” you voiced.

He lifted a hand and flicked the wrist.

With the last bit of magic he had left, green smoke appeared around you. The horse whinnied as the smoke surrounded it too And you vanished from the scene.

The Green smoke surrounded your vision. Then at once it drifted away and you were far off into a snowy woods in Jotunheim. It was lined with fur trees full of beautiful snow around them like necklaces. Only some were normal trees where they settled on their branches in blankets. You heard the horse trotting around, brushing its lips and shaking its mane.

You felt light headed You were safe, alive. A far distance off.

Then a few uncontrollable tears began to stream down your face, feeling like they could turn to ice against your skin. You felt like there was a hole in your chest. But your senses were alerting you…the cabin was close. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you took the reigns of the horse and you both walked forward. It wasn’t too long- only ten minutes of walking, despite the frigid wind paining your face…

And there it was. Sure enough, there was the cabin.

The door was unlocked. Already there was a blazing hearth in fireplace, a warm bed full of thick quilts, and a table full of food that was still fresh. Chopped wood for the hearth sat in a pile next to an iron pot to use for cooking. When you walked over to the hearth, you could tell, right in the fireplace was the orb glowing bright orange. The source of this light and comfort, though you were certain no one lived here.

You got out the pocket watch from your side… you knew you should alert them. You knew you had it. It was what he told you to do…but could not make it to twelve to give the signal.

Loki…Loki…it then hit you, the weight on you. What he did…for the mission. And for you.

He was armed. He could fight them. The training he had all of his life couldn’t have been for nothing. But he was outnumbered. But still…without magic and outnumbered! Perhaps killed already!

You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t abandon him…and that was if he was still alive.

Despite your shaking, and your crying, your senses reached back. There was a mountain nearby. A familiar mountain…

And someone who would know if Loki still breathed.

You gathered a bundle of firewood and put them in your bag. Then you mounted the horse, both legs swinging off the saddle. Despite your nerves, your determination shot you forward. You were going to learn of Loki’s fate.

If he was dead, then you would go back to Asgard. It would be too risky to get his body. Tell the AllFather and AllMother of his last deed. So at least after his life, he would finally be seen as an equal, as a hero. And if he lived…you would do whatever you could to find him. Get him back.

You led the horse towards where you sensed the mountain and found the entrance. The place where the Jotun Prophet lived.

You rushed inside the cave. You down some of the wood and lit it with your fire. It crackled against the cave in echoes, its light illuminating the dark cave.

“Prophet! Prophet! Here’s my offering! Hurry! Please! It’s an emergency! I must speak with you- now!” you begged. Your voice echoed off into the infinity of black inside.

Sure enough, there were blue lights that glowed on the wall. And out walked the Jotun Prophet. Still with his proud, knowing smile.

“Oh, Mortal Lady, it’s you again…have you gained the wisdom to become engaged to an ugly priest this time? As you must have figured out by now, They don’t get half the attention from other women as the handsome ones do!”

You took a few steps forward. His red eyes remained calm and his smile remained gentle.

“This isn’t about any of that! It’s about Loki! He’s in danger! He could be hurt- or worse! Grendel’s soldiers ambushed us and he used the last of his magic to send me away! Please, Prophet, tell me one thing at least- is Loki still alive? Or are they going to kill him? Is this how he dies?”

The Jotun Prophet scratched his chin.

“Hmm, a god in distress...” he mused. He accepted the firewood. With some magic, it floated up in the air.

“They might have killed him by now- please! I’m begging you! Is Loki alive?”

The Jotun Prophet held up a hand as if to get you to calm down.

“They have abducted him. They’re tormenting him…but he is alive. There is nothing they love more than toying with their victims before they kill. But Loki is too valuable a prisoner for them to end his life just yet. They could use him to bribe the royal family of Asgard, hold him for the price of their domination of the kingdom or an alliance…so at least no killing yet. Even the most foolish of Grendel’s men know that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, the dizziness washing down you. Your vision blurred from the high and then returned back. The Prophet wasn’t retreating- so you asked another question.

“Tell me where he is! Where have they taken him?” you pleaded.

“They are…southeast from here, a few leagues.”

The Prophet lifted a blue finger and pointed in that direction.

Once you journey down there, you will sense where they are clear as day. They are camped at the ends of another great mountain. You will see smoke- a fire they made there. There you may find Loki. There you may save him. What a lucky coincidence you found that cabin…just take him there after. Let him rest his injuries..”

New tears came down your face, tears of deep gratitude.

“Thank you…”

You began to turn to hurry off. But after a few steps, you heard The Prophet call out.

“Oh! Mortal Lady! One more thing!”

You turned right around, nearly skidding on your feet. He walked up to be closer to you, the firewood floating by his side.

“Brunhilde flowers,” the prophet said.

“Brunhilde flowers?” you repeated, tasting the words in your mouth.

“Named for the strength of the renowned Valkyrie. They grow in Jotunheim. You can find them growing outside the cabin. It will restore strength and even magic to anyone. The petals and bulb are very bitter to the taste but crushed up and steeped in boiled water, it makes a decent tea. To make it work faster, It should take two days and one cup of tea or one flower per day. Along with long hours of rest. If he exerts himself, it will slow the healing down. Then his magic will return in its entirety. So be patient,” the Prophet explained.

He began to turn and walk into the dark. But you took one step closer to where he walked.

“So all I do is find the flowers and give it to Loki?” you questioned.

The Prophet paused. Then he turned around, with a small, if not mischievous smile.

“That is, if you wish to complete your True Love’s healing.”

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 61-70: Waking up and choosing violence

Hello everyone and welcome back to another week of ramblings about TMA, its characters and, most importantly, its mysteries. Will I ever find an answer to at least one of them? I doubt it, but I’ll keep putting together as many pieces as possible and one day I’ll prove to everyone that the All Michael Theory is the only valid one. And not just because it’s the silliest.

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MAG 61 - Hard Shoulder

Wow, what a start!

We have a new voice: Alice “Daisy” Tonner joins the cast and proves herself to be one of the most badass women - as well as another character who woke up and chose violence. Huge respect for her (with a sprinkle of fear).

Basira suspected Jon was Gertrude’s killer? You know what? From the police’s perspective, this reasoning makes sense: it doesn’t seem like Gertrude had any relatives and Jon was the only one close to her (at work, at least). And, as Daisy said, he showed a ton of weird behaviors and weird behaviors are the first red flag for a suspect. Also, Jon is the only one who actually gained something from Gertrude’s death and that’s even more suspicious.

Awww, Jon was sad Basira suspected of him! Is he starting to feel something from her? Will he end up asking her phone mumber, then a date, then her hand in marriage?

I also find it very interesting that Jon asked Daisy to tell him something about the supernatural events she dealt with. It’s the first time Jon actively wanted a statement. Even weirder, he didn’t ask for a specific one, but any statement. “Whatever you like”, he told her.

That’s a bit odd, isn’t it? In season 1, Jon said he was getting too involved in the statements, now he’s actively asking for new ones. Is this all related to the “crimson fate”/curse? Is this Big brother’s influence? If I was right by saying that Big Brother can somehow “eat” the statements, that means Jon is unconsciously feeding this supernatural shit?

Speaking of the statement, I was HYPED when I found out that the delivery van was from Breekon & Hopes deliveries. Even better, they were transporting the coffin! Coffin from MAG 2 my beloved! And we also find out what’s inside it!

Once again, I’ll quote Jon: the content was surprising, indeed. I expected some creepy shit to come out but we got a weird staircase going somewhere down. It just made me even more curious about the coffin’s origin and now I want to know more: where does that staircase bring? I hope we will find out in some future statement.

Also, what’s with that weird static/vibration? I thought it was just a background sound added by TMA’s author to create the right atmosphere. But since it was mentioned in the transcripts too, I’m starting to fear it has something to do with the plot. Is it related to Micheal? Or Daisy? Or maybe the tape recorder suddenly broke because yes? No idea, but I love that we’re starting with so many mysteries.

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MAG 62 - First Edition

HOLY SHIT, MARY KEAY.

Yep, that was my reaction when I found out who this “Mary” was. And her voice is adorably creepy. Love it.

But as Jon said, there is a lot here. And by a lot I mean A LOT.

*

1) Mary and the Institute

The Keays worked for the Institute?! Of course, that’s how they found out about a lot of this weird shit, gosh I feel so stupid for not realizing it sooner!

But Mary also talks about her mother’s “slavish devotion to you and your patron”. Who is the patron? Elias? A member of the Lukas family? Big Brother itself?

*

2) Same side?!

Mary said she and Gertrude are on the same side “Even if Elias disagrees”. That can mean two things only:

Mary Keay is on Big Brother’s & the Lukas' side, even if Elias thinks she’s not so trustworthy

Mary Keay is on the opposite side, but she doesn’t know her job is actually helping Elias/the Lukas/Big Brother

Which theory is the right one? It depends on what side Gertrude was: if she was against Big Brother it’s one thing, if she was pro Big Brother it’s a different one.

*

3) Powers that watched over?

It’s very telling that Mary said Dr. Margaret Tellison was “touched by powers like those that watched over our family”. That confirms the Keays are associated with a supernatural shit - or that a supernatural shit watches over them, at least. Which one? Gosh, I hope to find out.

But also: if there was a supernatural shit watching over them, the Keays should worship it, right? So, why did Mary say “I’ve always found a singular devotion far too restrictive”? Maybe she doesn’t just worship the one watching over them, but a lot of different ones?

On a side note: who the fuck is Eric?

*

4) A Not-Leitner - and actually not a single one was

And here on the left, we can see TMA’s author trolling me with the book that drops bones, by making me think that yes, that’s surely a Leitner. It was also in Leitner’s weird hidden library, of course it’s a Leitner.

And here I find out that actually no, it’s just a fucking pointless book and it was gifted to Leitner by Mary Keay herself.

So not only we find out the Keays and Leitner interacted, but Mary gifted him a book and in MAG 35, among all the 200 Leitners that he could’ve picked from the hidden library, Gerard chose that one: the most useless one. Maybe mommy didn’t teach him well enough how to find them.

But also: Gertrude asked Mary “Who does the book come from?”, which implies Leitner didn’t write it. And Mary herself opened her statement by saying he “collected” them.

That means Leitner never actually wrote these books. He just put a stamp on them. This Norwegian motherfucker simply took books from all the supernatural shits and collected them in his secret library.

What an absolute fucker, he tricked me into thinking he was some kind of evil genius, while he’s just a collector/archivist of sorts. But hey, in this case, I want to know what the fuck happened to him. Where is he, now?

*

5) The End!

A-ah, here is the name of another supernatural shit! This one is called the End, but who or what it is? Mary Keay says “I could never truly serve it - I just don’t find death that interesting”, so the End is death, I suppose. Could it be the same from “Cheating Death” (MAG 29)? It wasn’t exactly a person, but more of a force that took different people. However, we also found out that these supernatural shits can be concepts too, so it could work.

Gosh, I’m so excited! We are starting to get more names of these little shits!

*

6) Mary Keay woke up and chose violence

In one statement, she:

insulted the Institute, by calling the Artefact Storage a “collection of mediocrity”

insulted Leitner by calling him “boring”

killed Dr. Tellison because she didn’t use her power for worthy causes 

insulted tea (which is probably the most outrageous insult for Brits)

insulted Elias’ lazy ass (“He’s not exactly big on action though, is he.”)

insulted the “fake Leitner book”

Sheesh, this woman literally woke up and decided to kill everything on her way. I stan.

*

7) A laptop!

Jon found Gertrude’s laptop and a weird key! More mysteries! More weird stuff! What does this key open? What does the laptop hide? No idea, but I’m thrilled!

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MAG 63 - The End of the Tunnel

Ah, so there it is. The Dark, Maxwell Rayner or whatever its name is. The supernatural shit related to darkness, that one.

And… it looks weirdly similar to the figure from MAG 3. Is Not!Sasha an appendix/servant/part of this supernatural shit? Or is it just a coincidence that they look very similar?

Also, is this what happened to Sasha too? Not!Sasha killed her by decapitating her shadow? That’s a very awful death, fine, but it’s also extremely cool. What a sick way to kill, so creative! Love it.

There could be a connection between the Church of Saint James and the People’s Church of the Divine

Host? Maybe, why not? After all, if these things can be worshipped, why not do it in an actual church? Best cover-up. Also, the priest took the camera from Miss Gallagher-Nelson, so it’s very possible he did it to prevent any photo of their supernatural god from going out.

Melanie King is back! I remember her and okay, it’s kinda sad her career is over in the “fake supernatural Youtube department”. Hey, maybe she can find a place here in the Archives! Honestly, it would be interesting if she becomes Jon’s sort-of-protege and he teaches her about his Archivist job. I don’t wish for him to die or for her to become Big Brother’s new food/body/whatever, but I would enjoy a master/protege connection between them anyway.

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MAG 64 - Burial Rites

A statement about a mummy that cannot die? Very cool and I love that it’s a nice variant of the trope: “evil mummy wants to kill you”. Rather than you, this mummy was a lot more interested in killing themselves and you can see their desperation in how they took the knife and tried to stab themselves. I felt some pity for this poor creature who just wanted to end their misery.

Considering we recently talked about the End and remembered MAG 29, I suppose this mummy is one of the immortal humans that defeated death, became death, passed the role to someone else and were left with a very uncomfortable immortality - an immortality that apparently goes beyond having your organs removed and your body being closed in a tomb.

Wow, just imagine how awful and terrifying it would’ve been, to feel your organs being removed and your body trapped in a tomb and yet, you still cannot die. It’s a super cool concept and I love it.

Awww, Jon and Basira are bonding even more. This time, over their mutual inability to be proper spies. They’re getting ready for marriage XD

Aside from that, Jon’s attachment to the statements is starting to be a bit concerning. At first, he simply asked for them, now he literally went to the police station because he wanted more statements. Are we sure this poor guy is okay? I mean, I know he’s not, but this weird “hunger for statements” is way more worrisome than some “simple” paranoia.

_______________________________

MAG 65 - Binary

Speaking of this statement, there are a few things I really liked.

First of all, I generally enjoy “deep web-ish” digital horror stories that revolve around the contrast between humans and machines. Hence why, the story of a guy who successfully uploaded his own mind into a computer immediately got my attention.

Second, I liked how this concept was handled here. It wasn’t the usual “scary chat with the dead” idea, but we got a whole ass video instead, featuring a guy eating his computer one piece at a time. A video that keeps following you on every device forcing you to look at it in full. Very cool and very creative.

Third, this particular sentence from Mrs. Tessa: “I can’t stop wondering what it must be like to try and have thoughts, messy human thoughts, trapped in the rigid digital processes of a computer.”. I think it perfectly encapsulates this concept, the situation, the video and its distorted way of communicating.

Oh, so Tessa didn’t come to the Institute just to record a statement: it was Jon who “lured” her there, to get the tech help he needed in order to access Gertrude’s laptop. Glad to see this man is still very clever, despite his paranoia.

MY BOY TIM. MY PRECIOUS BOY TIM. He woke up, entered Jon’s office and decided that violence was not enough, so he used extra violence and:

destroyed Jon, by calling him “you pompous idiot” and telling him he should’ve been fired

destroyed Martin, Sasha, Elias and, if there were some worms, he would’ve destroyed them too. Twice.

I mean, not that he hasn’t a valid reason to be frustrated. While everyone (me included) was worried about Jon’s paranoia and stalking tendencies, no one asked him “Hey, Tim, how are you?”. The poor boy was literally left alone to deal with his own shit. Of course he’s frustrated and angry. Of course he wants to leave.

And it’s immensely tragic that Jon understands, he even offers Tim to leave if he says it… but Tim can’t. And Jon can’t fire him either. And I bet everything that it’s all because of Big Brother’s influence. Goddamn Big Brother.

Hence why, I will soon run into this series, grab Tim and throw him out of this place. My boy needs to relax, possibly in a huge beautiful spa, surrounded by people ready to serve him and give him all the comforts he needs.

Tim deserves all of this.

_______________________________

MAG 66 - Held in Customs

Two lines into this statement and I am perplexed already. What does that mean this is a “Statement of Vincent Yang regarding his claimed imprisonment by Mikaele Salesa”? Now Salesa is kidnapping people too? Wtf?!

But no, the truth is that Mr. Yang basically kidnapped himself by touching something he shouldn’t have touched. And even if Salesa told him “don’t go to sleep”, he did it anyway.

And if all of this wasn’t weird enough, he got rescued by Peter Lukas, who was basically trying to buy that weird wooden crate from Salesa, opened it up and found this poor fucker inside. Best rescue ever.

Jon might be the most paranoid man on the planet, but he’s also the most relatable too. First, he gives the perfect definition of Salesa:

Then he reads my thoughts and anticipates me:

Then he finds out Gertrude was trying to buy a Leitner! And she even managed to get three books:

a special printing of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, by John Ruskin

a copy of The Key of Solomon

a 1910 pamphlet simply entitled A Disappearance

which translated from writer to reader means:

more supernatural architects

a well-known book with a weird twist

a future statement

And yes, Jon is right again about Gertrude: the question isn’t who killed her but why. What did she learn? I thought she just wanted to say “fuck you” to Big Brother and escape from her destiny. But what if she was trying to do something different? I  don’t know if she wanted to connect with it/defy it/connect with another supernatural shit, but oh boy, I can’t wait to find out.

_______________________________

MAG 67 - Burning Desire

Ooooh, a statement about Agnes Montague! Aaaaand we didn’t learn more about her than what we already knew: she’s associated with fire, she probably has some kind of pyrokinetic powers and she’s a supernatural shit - sort of.

This was (probably) confirmed by her words about having destiny. When Mr. Barnabas told her he doesn’t really have one, she replied with “That must be nice”: almost as if she has a very specific destiny to fulfill and can’t escape from it. Maybe because she became the body of some supernatural shit? And since then, she acquired new weird powers, but she also lost the human freedom of making her own destiny and being her own person. Once again, it reminds me of Michael and the importance of identity for some of these creatures.

Okay, time to recap the members of this Cult of the Lightless Flame for future reference:

Diego Molina, the guy who was in the hospital with Gerard (and died in a fire)

Arthur Nolan, Jane Prentiss’ landlord (died in a fire)

another unidentified guy (I bet he also died in a fire)

a short, muscular Asian woman, with a tattoo of a burning guy

Agnes Montague, who is probably the Lightless Flame. Or its embodiment

Also, what did the Asian woman mean, when she said Agnes could’ve been “released” if she did some job? What kind of job it was? Was it related to MAG 8? She felt when the tree was pulled down, after all…

There are still a lot of things to learn about Agnes Montague and this cult, so I can’t wait to know more.

One last thing about the cult: wow, Jon, dramatic much? I use names like “supernatural shit” and “Spider Gang”, you use names like “Cult of the Lightless Flame”. If I were you, I would’ve called these people “Fire Gang” or something similar. But hey, maybe that’s why I’m not the protagonist of this story XD

Speaking of Jon… he wants to visit the tunnels again. Sigh. Life still has so much to offer, Jon. Why trying so hard to get killed? If even Elias “Suspicious” Bouchard is telling you to chill, then you know something’s wrong.

But hey, I suppose Jon should do some stupid shit to end this second season. And what better way to end it, if not by waking up whatever terror is hidden in those tunnels?

_______________________________

MAG 68 - The Tale of a Field Hospital

I said before that it’s a shame most of these statements “have the same voice”, so I was pleasantly surprised by the language used here. Mr. Russo uses a very elegant, poetic way of speaking, especially at the beginning: it conveys the image of an artist very well and it helps differentiate him from other people.

Here we are, back with John Amherst after seeing him dying/not dying in MAG 36. And guess what, he’s a supernatural shit as well. Everyone is a supernatural shit in this world.

In this case, he’s probably The Disease or something similar. I’ll call him the Disease, until I will find out what is his shit’s actual name.

While speaking of the powers, it looks like he gets infected all the time, dies and comes back to life. But hey, look at the bright side: at least he doesn’t feel miserable about it. On the contrary, he seems pretty joyful and he even jokes about being “such a restless man”. Glad to see he takes death so funnily. I wonder what the End thinks of this little fucker.

Was this book a Leitner? I don’t know, it seems like one. After all, the book is about the supernatural shit, so… maybe? I’m not sure :/ I hope we will find a list of all the Leitners or I’ll have to tackle the Norwegian motherfucker and ask directly to him.

Wow, Jon didn’t wait two seconds: as soon as he got the key to the tunnel, he immediately went down and got lost. Right after Elias told him to not do too many secret explorations and put himself in danger.

Look, Jon, look what you’re making me do: agreeing with Elias.

Luckily, Not!Sasha was lurking around like the creepy imposter it is and it seemed like Jon noticed something weird about her. Something small, sure, but still something. Will he find out by the end of season two?

_______________________________

MAG 69 - Thought for the day

So we’re finally meeting, spider lady.

It took her a long time to appear but hey, I suppose that since she’s (probably) the leader of the Spider Gang, she was waiting for the right time to make her entrance.

For what I saw in this statement, she looks both fine and scary as fuck and, just like every woman in this series likes to do, she wakes up and chooses violence. In this case, violence with a side dish of “projectors” doing some magical weird circle.

Uhm… mood, I suppose?

The relationship between Jon and Tim truly went downhill, didn’t it? And I like how it’s addressed because:

I’m not the one who realizes it’s because of Jon’s paranoia - Jon himself knows it. He literally told Martin that working is all they can do together now. He proves he’s still a clever, well-written character.

Even if we feel sad and frustrated by this situation, we can also understand why Jon became so paranoid. And it’s because the story until now makes sense, the events have a logical progression and the development isn’t rushed. Everything happened for a reason and there was always a logical explanation behind it.

Even if we as readers feel like Jon did a lot of stupid shit, deep down we know we would’ve probably done the same, if we were in his same place.

About the last point, it can also apply to Jon’s growing curiosity. Let’s not fool ourselves: we’re also very curious to know what’s hidden in those tunnels. We’re scared to find out, just like him. We know that, last time Jon went down there, some supernatural shit (which I suppose is not Michael?) told him to go away. He knows that too.

But hey, I suppose there’s a reason why curiosity is one of mankind’s strongest aspects. We are all curious and we all would do stupid shit just to satisfy it.

And if some of us maybe won’t go down these scary tunnels, we can still understand Jon, when he says:

“I should just leave it. They’re right. But I can’t not know.”

I just hope this man won’t end up dying just to satisfy his need to know.

_______________________________

MAG 70 - The Book of the Dead

Once again, we have a concept already explored in other works. But, again, I love how it’s handled here: some creative choices are wonderful and I need to give them the attention they deserve.

First of all, how the book looks very old at the start and gets progressively “newer” over the centuries. It gives it more “personality”, you know? And it’s more fitting for the concept of a book that talks about the death of several people throughout history.

Second, it’s a very specific book, that illustrates violent deaths only. This makes it more convincing too, because not everyone in the world dies of violent death.

Third, I adore the idea that death changes according to your own choices. The exact moment Mr. Murray decided not to visit Lancashire, his death changed. Every time he made a new decision, his death changed. And it drew closer too, which contributes to the sense of dread and inevitability typical of death.

And speaking of the inevitability of death, I like how it portrays it here. Death is inevitable, not because “your fate is predetermined and you cannot escape from it”: you can actually change it. But death will still be there. Even if there is no predetermined destiny, death is still inescapable. Great way to convey this concept, loved it so much.

I also found particularly fascinating how, after Mr Murray’s death, there were white pages. Why? Is it because he didn’t pass the book to someone else? Is it because he tried to destroy it? Where is this book now? Are the pages still white?

Yes, Jon, I know. I also thought this Norwegian motherfucker called Jurgen Leitner was the author of these books and yes, I also thought he sold his soul/talked to Big Brother and gained some magical creepy powers. But nope, Leitner is just a guy who took all these books and put them together because… I don’t know, I suppose he woke up one day and said “violence is not enough, I want to see the world burn”. This absolute fucker.

And speaking of more books, it looks like we lost Gertrude’s copy of The Key of Salomon. I suppose she didn’t want to see the world burn, but just this book. But why? Uuuurgh, there are so many juicy mysteries and still so few answers!

_______________________________

In conclusion

I suppose the only real answer we got here is that Leitner is an even bigger imposter than Not!Sasha, because he tricked us into believing he was some kind of genius/powerful entity, while he’s actually just a collector. He’s still a creepy collector and it’s thanks to him we know about these books, but still. Not cool pretending to be more than you are, man. Not cool.

We also learned more about the End (and yes, I suppose The Book of Dead is theirs) and I finally met the spider lady. These little supernatural shits are introducing themselves one by one and I’m thrilled to see more of them, but I’m also asking myself: how will Mr. Sims (TMA’s author) handle all of these characters? Usually, the more characters you have, the more difficult is to handle them all and give each of them a distinct personality/characterization. I hope he has clear plans, because I have high expectations and want to see what his writing choices will be.

Gosh, next week season 2 will end and oh boy, am I scared. Jon is still paranoid, the relationships are all over the place, Not!Sasha is still an imposter and there is a suspicious lack of Michaels. Where are they? Will my Best Boyo come back from the war (he didn’t want to take part in)? Will everyone keep waking up and choosing violence? We will find out next week, I suppose.

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[trashbag-baby666]

🛼

could u do something in canon verse with protective bucky over buck? not sure what that would look like… maybe a RAF guy being a jerk?

I made this a little more angst than I anticipated…hope you enjoy!!!

It’s Your Turn Now-Buck/Bucky

Summary: Buck is having his turn of mourning Curt and Bucky isn’t going to let anyone make him feel bad for it.

WC: 647

C/W: Mentions of character death and drinking,

MOTA Masterlist!

Buck was very much still grieving Curt, he didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke, he didn’t gamble. So he sat in the bar quietly as Bucky drank away his pain pretending as if it didn’t happen. He’d see him keep looking to his side to poke fun at Curt or create some trouble. Then Bucky's face would falter from his drunk smile and shoot a glance over to where Buck sat in the corner. Where they would sit in the corner with Curt smashed between them like some homoerotic sandwich.

Buck sat with his knee pressed into Bucky’s some guys were playing craps but they were just observing. “Maybe if you flew your missions during the day you’d hit your targets.” Demarco pointed a finger at the four RAF pilots sitting across from them.

“Maybe if you flew your missions at night you wouldn’t lose so many forts.” One of the RAF bastards scoffed looking at them. The table went quiet and everyone began to turn glances to John and Gale.

John felt Buck go tense next to him and grab his leg gently. He could tell he was uncomfortable. John knew better than anyone else Buck was now just beginning to get his time to grieve for Curt. After they found out Curt and Dickie didn’t make it they wrote their parents letters. Then packed up their stuff to send back.

Bucky had been an absolute mess, he had cried so much and so hard he was shaking and could barely get out of bed for a few days. Buck had taken care of him until he was ready to try going back to normal.

“I think we’re gonna call it a night, boys.” Bucky slapped the table lightly.

“Oh, are you Majors too sensitive to own up to your mistakes?” One of the RAF officers taunted.

Bucky felt his face go red as he narrowed his eyes, shoving the guys out of the booth so him and Buck could get out. “Do you wanna settle up my tab?” Bucky took his wallet out and handed the money to Buck, he watched as the blonde walked over to the bartender.

Bucky grabbed the collar of the RAF jerks jacket forcing him to look up into his eyes. “Don’t ever talk to him that way again or disrespect our men who laid down their lives flying missions. Your asses can’t do it successfully.” Bucky pointed a finger at him aggressively, he could see the other man shaking and his lip quivering, “Understood, yank?” Bucky spoke, mocking their accents.

“Understood, sir.” the man swallowed as Bucky let go, shoving him back slightly.

John walked alongside Buck back to the barracks, their hands interlocked as John kicked a rock.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Buck sighed, stealing a quick glance over at John. he had his eyes gazed on the rock he was kicking. John let out an exasperated sigh and gave Buck's hand a squeeze.

“Well it’s not okay for them to disrespect the men who died, especially Curt, they knew him. He punched the one for Christ's sake.” Bucky grumbled, he didn’t feel the need to only protect Buck. He felt that he needed to make sure Curt didn’t die in vain. As Well as not letting him be forgotten. He had put Curts small lucky four leaf clover pendant on his dog tags. Curt had always slept with it under his pillow and now Bucky clutched it to go to sleep at night.

“I know, I appreciate you standing up for yourself and I. Well you know and the ones we lost.” Buck rubbed his thumb over Bucky's hand.

“Let’s lay down, yeah?” Bucky opened the door to his room and let Buck in. He just wanted to spoon Buck till they fell asleep. This time around he wouldn’t take his time with Buck for granted.

[melodygatesauthor]

Hi again bb, hope it's okay to send more than one ask in for your celebration. It's not on the list (so feel free to ignore this if you want) but I was just wondering how the writing for your original novel is going? What does your writing process look like? Is it the same as when you write fic or is it different? Just curious, thought maybe since it was writing related it might be something you could talk about lol. If not, that's okay, no worries 🥰 love youuuu 💖

Yes it's more than okay of course!

It's like you know me, and know how much I love having a stage to talk about my writing on hahahaha. I'll answer below the cut...

So the first part of the question, "how's it going", it's going okay. I've started it. I have the first few pages done but I started writing it before I had decided to make it an original fiction so I need to go back, change some names and whatnot.

I also keep coming up with new ideas for it all the time which is both great, and frustrating because in order to set up some major plot points, I need to start building the suspense from book one and it means rearranging thoughts and rewriting scenes and making sure there's continuity throughout.

----

My personal writing process is similar for both novel-length fanfictions, and my original fiction novel I'm working on. I always have 2 docs in google docs for the novel. One doc is the novel itself, and the other doc is where I take notes. I'll also break this up into sections.

Character Names/Locations - I'll also include a tidbit about who the character is, relation to the main character/reader, if it's a place I'll put what that place is/its importance to the story, e.t.c. - I'll also put like birth dates or ages for characters in this place too.

Timeline - This is for fics that are spanning over a significant amount of time, or fics that I want to ensure last a while. Sometimes I have a tendency to want to rush getting the reader or m/c together too quickly, this helps me pace it. Plus if I go back to reference WHEN something happened, this is a good place to do it. - Further, it's where I keep track of WHERE a character is during a given time period. That way when a character says, "don't you remember what you told me three weeks ago when we were on Jakku?" I can confirm easily that they were indeed on Jakku three weeks ago without having to scour through the fic for hours trying to confirm this. I would consider it a "living timeline", meaning, I work on it as I write the story, not the other way around.

Outline - My outlines are often loose ideas of what I intend to do in a fic. As I've been working on the novel, I'm spending A LOT more time working on this part. I try not to get myself bogged down with this piece of the process, because if I do, I won't actually write the book. That being said, having a basic idea of where your book is going and how many chapters/words it might have is very important (in my opinion). So for Lock & Key, I have 3.5k words in notes I've taken. I'm sorting through them, deciding what's happening when, and creating an outline based on that.

I hope that all makes sense, there's a lot there, but if I don't do all of that then my novels would be all over the place with no rhyme or reason as to what's going on or when. I did it with A Bit Dodgy, Yes Master, One Hell of a Pilot, By Your Side, Just You, and The Recruit and the Hunter, and I'll do it with this one too lol.

Melody's 2k Celebration Masterlist

[strangerobsession]

I Cast Knock on the Door

Votes are in! I'll probably do more lil one-shots based on ACOC because I'm mentally ill and I'm obsessed with these silly little guys.

Gender neutral reader, and they play a character named Theo who can be imagined as masc, fem, or neither.

Summery: Things are going sideways for the party in Eddie's new political corruption campaign. PCs are dying and betrayals are occurring, but morale is regained when you achieve a small victory and catch Eddie of-guard.

SPOILERS FOR DIMENSION 2O'S A CROWN OF CANDY UNDER THE CUT

Word Count: 1,446

Masterlist

“I think we brought this on ourselves, guys.” You muttered, leaning back in your chair with a heavy sigh. “We did let Eddie do a murder campaign.”

Everyone at the table had been practically paralyzed for the past twenty-five minutes. The incredulous sputtering from the unexpected betrayal by a favorite NPC had turned into silence as Eddie now somberly narrated Mike’s character’s death.

He chuckled quietly, shrugging. “I told you; if you play royals, everyone’s gonna try to assassinate you.”

“It’s okay, Eddie’ll pull an NPC out of his ass that he was gonna introduce later for you to play.” Gareth, who’d also had his character killed off, said kindly to Mike.

“You got one for me, too?” Jeff asked, laughing tiredly.

“Oh, you’re fine, you’re still alive.” Eddie waved him off.

“Cruller just threw me off the roof of my own castle.” Jeff deadpanned. “I might be fucked.”

When Eddie had pitched his latest campaign idea, everyone had been excited about doing something different. The picture he’d painted of the world and the lore had been too good to pass up. Even when he’d explicitly said “I will be trying to kill you every step of the way,” Hellfire still gave him the stamp of approval, and set about creating new characters.

Now? Dustin’s familiar and best friend had been killed, Gareth was on his second character, Jeff seemed close to death, and now Mike needed a new character.

Eddie laughed again. “Well, for now,” He gestured to you. “Theo?”

“Mm-hmm?” You grunted quietly at the sound of your character’s name.

“You are walking through the castle looking for some of the other knights. You find Toby’s quarters,” Eddie said, referring to your character, the captain of the royal guard’s second in command. “They look sort of messier than normal, which is unusual to you because he’s a very neat, crisp knight. As you go in to investigate, you see Sir Toby’s body butchered in a corner of the room.”

Your eyes widened, but Eddie wasn’t done.

“You hear the iron door of his quarters slam behind you and lock. You hear the voices of some of Cruller’s men,” He pitched his voice lower and laughed. “Keep them behind the door. Have fun in there! If you get hungry your friend Toby should be able to help you with a meal.”

You crossed your arms, and shook your head, brows furrowed. “I think Theo’s just running through everything in their head, just like a million thoughts at once. They’re thinking ‘How did I not see this? How did I not suspect this? Where’s the king?’” You sigh heavily, eyes scanning your character sheet and what few spells you have. An idea starts to form. You look up at your boyfriend, perched behind his DM screen. “Can I hear how many people are outside the door?”

“Yeah, only probably like two or three.”

You nod, glancing back at your spells. “I cast Knock on the door.”

Eddie stares at you, eyes wide and mouth gaping as your fellow party members cheer.

“Yeah!” Mike yells from next to you, pumping a fist. Dustin grabs your arm from your other side.

“It automatically unlocks the door.” You finally let yourself smile at Eddie’s shocked face- he’s so rarely thrown off his game, you can count on one hand the number of times you’d rendered him well and truly speechless during a session.

He lets out a stunned laugh, grinning widely. “You hear them snickering outside, and suddenly the door bursts off its hinges, flies and thuds into the wall across, and they whip around to look at you. Sweetheart, if you will, please roll initiative.”

You pick up your d20 between two fingers with a smirk. “Do I get any kind of surprise?”

“You’re gonna get a surprise round, absolutely.”

Dustin frowned as you rolled. “Is it just (Y/N) going?”

“Yeah, well we’ve gotta resolve this before we cut back to everyone else.” Eddie nodded.

“I got an eleven.” You inform him.

Eddie rolled behind his screen. He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “The guards got a three. Go ahead and take your surprise round.”

“Oh my god,” You laughed, scanning your possible attacks and spells. “You’re going to regret not killing me first, asshole.”

With advantage for the surprise round, you quickly dropped two out of the three guards. Eddie marked something off on his notes, still looking a little dazed. “Okay, that’s your surprise round. There is one guy left and you rolled higher on initiative. Go for it.”

You rolled a few more times, rattling off numbers to Eddie as you took out the last guard. “First attack was just five, this is…. Another eight damage.”

Not your best rolls, but luckily the palace guards had pretty low stats. Eddie nods. “Theo, they’ve locked you in this room, and they’re laughing outside. In a swirling helix of magic energy, the door explodes off its hinges, and as their faces follow, you slide out.” He waves an arm, mimicking a swinging blade. “All of these soldiers are dead before they even have a chance to draw their weapons.”

You sigh in relief. “Amazing.”

“We should get a sign or something for the room.” Dustin smirked. “‘It’s been zero days since Eddie’s plans were ruined by an unassuming spell.’”

The table laughed as Eddie leaned forward, pointing a pencil at Dustin with an impassive expression. “You’re still way too proud of that Detect Poison thing.”

“It solved the whole battle, it was awesome!” Lucas protested with a laugh.

Eddie groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Everytime,” He muttered. “Everytime I have a whole fight, one of you does that one thing that fucks it all up.”

“Your goal is to kill us, ours is to make your life a living hell.” You replied evenly, setting your dice back into neat lines. “If we have to follow the rules, so do you.”

“You’re doing a bang up job.” He quipped, before clapping his hands. “Alright, let’s cut back to Cumulous.”

. . .

“You think Eddie’s already got an NPC for Mike to take over?” Dustin asked.

“Knowing him, it’s more than likely. That or they’re working something out right now.” You shrugged. “Either way, he won’t leave him hanging.”

After the session, Eddie had asked Mike to hang back, telling him he “had something for him.” You, Dustin and Lucas waited by your car for them to be done.

“I think I’m still in shock.” Lucas commented. “I think I’ve been in shock for the past four sessions.”

“Me too,” You agreed. 

Eddie and Mike soon pushed through the front doors of Hawkins High. Eddie had an arm wrapped around the younger boy, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. They were both smiling, though.

“Figure everything out?” You asked, holding a hand out.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie took it, kissing your knuckles. “We haven’t seen the last of Wheeler.”

“Good.” You ruffled Mike’s hair affectionately. “Pile in, boys.”

The kids clambered into your car- Dustin scrambling around to the passenger’s seat after calling shotgun- as you turned to fully face Eddie.

“Hey, that was a really good move with Knock, earlier.” He grinned. “I didn’t even know you had that one.”

“Never had to use it before- I only added after I realized how trigger happy you were with the assassination attempts.” You chuckled. “Figured it’d come in handy.”

“You’re a genius, babe.” Eddie grabbed both your hands, pressing kisses to every finger. 

Lucas knocked on the window from inside the car. “Wrap it up, lovebirds!” He called, muffled.

Eddie shot him a dirty look, then kissed you deeply. You cupped his face in one hand, using the other to flip off the groaning boys in your car.

“We still good for tomorrow?” He asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yup. Pick me up at 12?”

“I’ll be there.” He promised, kissing you again. 

“Okay, I should actually go and get these guys home.” You said regretfully, pulling out of Eddie’s arms. “Thanks for the session, Ed. It was really fun.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. You were amazing.” He started walking backwards towards his van, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “I love you!” 

“I love you too!” You called as he got further away.

“I can’t believe you just made out with the man who murdered me in cold blood.” Mike scoffed as you slid into the driver’s seat.”

“Sometimes you have to compartmentalize, Micheal.” You replied as you started the car. “In my head, my boyfriend and the guy who’s ass I’m gonna beat in next week’s session are two very different people.”

[illicitlimerence-writes]

the 1 | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x ex!reader word count: 4k words (how the hell did that happen?) request: yes, by anon: “hi, can i request a story with charles and reader based on driver’s license by olivia rodrigo? maybe high school sweethearts that broke up because they couldn’t handle long distance (for charles ascending career).  fluffy ending with them maybe getting back together years later and him being proud because reader is actually a really nice driver” prompt: character a and character b broke up, but now they meet at a christmas party. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: language, flashbacks, a ton of references to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo. THE AGES AND YEARS MIGHT NOT MAKE SENSE BUT I TRIED MY BEST lol a/n: day 6! i really didn’t plan this to be so long. what can i say… i have no self control. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

there was a time when sneaking around was fun, exciting. when their worlds revolved only around each other and the only worry in their minds was keeping their relationship a secret. 

their friend group was a close knit one, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together, and when they’d reached the age of first boyfriends, girlfriends, and other partners, they’d all made a pact to never date someone from the group. 

the fact that it was forbidden only made things more interesting for them. 

what fools they’d been, hoping for a forever at such a young age, thinking their love would be eternal and nothing could ever come between them.

they thought they were in the clear, for so long their friends were unaware of the relationship between the two of them, they would reach an age where they would never care that they’d been hiding the truth for so many years. 

six years together was enough to know they’d never feel a love like theirs.

but he was a passionate person, and whilst she loved when that passion was directed to her, on other occasions it felt as if she were the second option. the other thing to occupy his mind when he got tired of racing.

teenage daydreams turned into nightmares. their young age meant they felt everything. and everything was intense and fiery and red. 

how ironic it was, that the color that had best described their secret relationship turned into a color that would chase him around wherever he went. that right when his career seemed to go the up, when his future looked gold, his personal life had hit an all time low, when the scarlet fire that burned between them had turned into ashes. 

she always knew he was destined for greatness. and he was so determined and focused and so in love with racing that it was only natural, only obvious that he’d climb his way to the top teams of his sport in a short time. his talent was one that she’d neverseen in anyone, and he loved showing it off, not in a braggy way, but he knew what he was capable of, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, he saw no reason to hide it. 

age 18.

“slow down!” she yelled as she laughed, holding onto the side of the car door. all the windows were down, as was the top, they were finally putting to good use charles’ convertible car.

“don’t listen to her, charles, speed up!” one of their friends, nate, added from the back of the car. the five of them were celebrating charles’ birthday, he was the first in their group to turn 18 and he’d just gotten his driver’s license, finally free to drive around wherever he wanted.

charles laughed, speeding a little before settling for a constant speed that wasn’t too fast or too slow. 

“it’s a great thing your parents gave you a car, now we have a personal chauffeur,” she said, throwing a teasing smile his way. they were seating in the front, with their three friends in the back, but somehow it felt as if they were the only ones there.

“no, none of that. you have to learn how to drive, too, otherwise what are you going to do when i’m gone?”

“go with you, duh,” she rolled her eyes.

“hey, that is true, because at least we all know how to drive, we’re ready. but you don’t… why don’t you?” another one of their friends, elise, asked.

“i don’t know,” she shrugged, “i’ve never had the need to. and to be honest, i don’t know how good of a driver i’ll be if i ever sit behind the wheel.” she admitted.

“yeah, we’ve all seen you play mario kart, you always seem to find the wall.” charles laughed, making her hit his shoulder with a fist.

“shut up. keep that up and i won’t learn how to drive just to spite you.” 

they laughed, enjoying the moment of freedom, just the five of them, five friends since birth, friends til death. five friends, two lovers.

-

it had been years since the five of them were all back home for the holidays, sometimes either only one of them was gone, or they were all away, but after three years, they were all back home at the same time. and that was something to be celebrated. they’d all seen each other throughout the years, but never the five of them at once.

charles arrived first, the christmas dinner was taking place at elise’s apartment, she’d just moved into her new place, so this worked both as a reunion and a housewarming. he’d decided to walk there, since it was on the same street as his building. he took the elevator and knocked on the door, he heard shuffling of feet approach and wrapped his fingers a little tighter around the neck of the wine bottle he’d bought.

“hey, charles, i wasn’t expecting anyone to be punctual,” elise laughed, moving aside to let him in.

“i’m the first one here?” he asked, raising the bottle, “this is for you, by the way. congrats on the new place,” he smiled.

“thank you! welcome, make yourself at home, but do take your shoes off because that white rug is new,” she smiled, walking to the kitchen, “and yeah, but nate called like two minutres ago, he and marie are on their way.”

“oh, and…” he didn’t finish, and it was finally hitting him that he’d be seeing her again.

“(y/n) is going to be a bit late, she had to go to the museum in nice so she’s probably going to be stuck in a little bit of traffic,”

“she’s- she didn’t take the train?” he asked.

“no, she drove there.”

“she drives?” he asked, sounding completely surprised by that. she was always so apprehensive whenever that topic arose in conversation.

“yeah! you didn’t know? she’s… you remember how we always used to joke around with her always crashing once she learned how to drive?” charles nodded, prompting her to continue,  “she actually aced her driving test, both the technical and the written tests.”

“oh, i… i didn’t know that,”

“what happened with you two? you used to be inseperable. like, yeah, all five of us were close, but it was always charles and (y/n), and then us.”

“i- i’m not sure. i guess… distance and responsibilities was just a lot for our friendship.”

“well maybe you can rekindle that friendship now. it’ll do you both good.”

“yeah,” charles said, and right then the doorbell rang.

he felt like he needed some peace and quiet to think, but with his two friends arriving just then, that seemed impossible to get. 

if he was honest, he hadn’t given himself much time to think about her. at first, of course, she was the only thing in his mind, they’d spent six years together, and he couldn’t believe how it was all slipping from his fingers so easily.

age 21.

she sighed as she heard the automatic voicemail message, she had been trying to call charles for the past five minutes and all she was met with was his pre-recorded message.

“charles, you better pick up this damn phone. i can’t believe you, how could you miss this? i asked you time and time again, even moved this three times for you. and where are you? not here. i- i don’t know if i can keep doing this. you always promise that i’m your priority, but that’s just not true. if you don’t want to be with me then just say it, i’m a big girl and i can handle it. but i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. and i know that your career is important, trust me i know that better than anyone. all i asked of you was one night, one night for you to actually be there for me. you know what? forget it, don’t even bother coming. not to the museum, or to my apartment. and don’t worry about me, i’ll find my way home. i don’t need you to drive me around anymore.”

she hung up, staring out to the city of nice. it was the opening of a new exhibit in the museum of modern and contemporary art, an exhibit that she’d been a big part of, probably her proudest achievement, considering she was still a student in university. everyone was there for her. her parents, friends, classmates and workers from the museum. well, almost everyone. 

charles hadn’t replied since earlier that morning. he didn’t wish her good luck, or even acknowledged the opening of the exhibit. he just said ‘see you tonight’. and that was it. he was in italy, had been for the past week. ever since the announcement that he was making the switch from sauber to ferrari she’d been seeing him even less than when he started racing in f1. she understood, of course, that there were certain responsibilities that came when being a ferrari driver. she knew that, she was his biggest supporter, but she wished that he was as passionate about her achievements as she was of his. or even acknowledge them and congratulate her. 

many times she’d told herself that she was being selfish, of course things were going to change once charles made it to the big leagues, but things were changing too fast. he spent more time away from home than with her, and when he was home he was practicing on his simulator, or preparing for an interview, a ferrari event. 

this was the last straw. it was a long time coming, and him not showing up, not even bothering to text back, this was enough.

she walked back inside, but stumbled into a waiter passing by, causing him to drop his tray on top of her. her dress now sported a wine-colored stain right in the middle. it was a dress charles had gifted her on one of their anniversaries. it was poetic, how the dress was now ruined, as was their relationship. she ran to the coat room, wrapping her black coat around her. she wasn’t going to let anything else ruin this night.

the next morning, she signed up for driving lessons.

two weeks later, she was getting perfect marks on both tests.

she once said she wouldn’t learn to drive just to spite him, but this was better. to show him that she didn’t need him anymore. 

-

the four friends were having a nice time, drinking wine and eating chips and other snacks as dinner was cooking. 

“elise, i swear, next time we’re hanging out at my place because finding a parking spot is impossible around here,” a new voice said, walking in through the front door. 

there she was.

wearing a tan, long coat, a briefcase-style bag hanging from her shoulder, all black turtleneck sweater, leggings and boots on. makeup done to perfection, a deep shade of red on her lips. 

“hello everyone,” she smiled, tossing her bag on the floor and walking to the dining area. “what did i miss?” she asked, and everyone started filling her in on their previous conversation topics.

she hadn’t even glanced at him. not once.

charles didn’t even know if she knew he was coming, if he was there at all. 

-

it wasn’t until later, when everyone’s cheeks were flushed from the wine, when the leftover food was growing cold in the forgotten plates, and they were all sitting around the living room, sharing stories and memories of years’ past, that they talked to each other.

“... and the museum is doing a really cool charity event in late january, so that’s where all of our focus is right now,” she finished catching everyone up to speed about her job in the museum. ever since college that place had become her home. “you’re all invited, of course, we need all the help we can get.”

“when is it?” charles asked, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was impressed by everything she was handling in the museum, she did a little bit of everything, but those little bits eventually turned into big, great things. he was impressed, however, not surprised. he always knew she could do it, she’d fallen in love with art in her teenage years, the first time they visited a contemporary museum. they’d gone together, of course, and charles couldn’t forget the way her eyes widened, the way she clearly understood what the artist wanted to say, it was love at first sight. 

“the 21st,” she turned to him. charles had expected a reaction from her, but she looked at him like he was just her friend. 

“we’ll be there,” nate said. 

“you’re not busy, superstar?” marie joked, looking at charles.

“i don’t think so. and if i am i’ll just move whatever to a different day.”

“you don’t have to do that,” she said, and this time charles caught something. her voice sounded a little harsher.

“i want to, we haven’t seen each other in so long, and you’ve done a lot for me, it’s only fair that i return the favor,” he smiled, wanting to get something more out of her, he got nothing, only a nod.

-

age 19.

“come on, you’ve been, quite possibly, the best person i ever could’ve asked for. it’s only fair i return the favor.” charles said, keeping his hand over her eyes as he led her to the surprise he’d prepared for her.

“you know i don’t need anything,” she chuckled, and he could feel her smile, the apples of her cheeks rising.

“well, this is more something for me, but it’s going to be good for you, eventually,”

“what do you mean?” she asked, still up for whatever he was planning. he removed his hand from her eyes. “what-”

“it’s your very own private driving lesson,” charles explained, making her laugh.

“charles, i don’t need to learn how to drive,”

“of course you do! you have to at least know the basics,”

“gas, brake, turn to the right, turn to the left, lights… i think i got it.”

“come on,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, “why don’t you want to learn?”

“i don’t know. i guess… i enjoy having you to drive me around, i like singing in the car with you, with the wind blowing in my hair, or just sitting in silence and watching the landscapes outside. i like doing that with you. plus… i’m afraid of having control of a car, because what if i lose control? what if the brakes fail, or someone crashes into me… it’s a lot to think about all the time. i think i’m just not made for driving.”

“well, lucky for you i was made for driving, and i like having you as my co-pilot, there’s no one else i’d rather have by my side.”

-

“it’s gifts time!” nate said loudly. “i’ll start,” he declared, standing up and picking a bag off the floor. “for you,” he started, handing a white envelope to (y/n), “and you,” he said, giving charles a small box, “and you,” he gave elise a wrapped gift that resembled a mug in shape, “and finally, you,” he said, giving marie a thin, long box.

they all opened theirs, marie got a hand-made friendship bracelet. elise got a new mug, charles got a pair of boxers with lightning mcqueen all over them, and (y/n) got a ticket to an exhibit in a parisian museum.

elise was next, then marie. as marie sat down, after handing everyone their gifts, charles pulled out his phone, sending a few pdf files to their groupchat.

“merry christmas, guys.” he said as all their phones rang. they all opened the files, each named after one of them, they were confirmations to a hotel booking, as well as a scanned picture of what would be their vip passes for the italian grand prix in monza.

“charles!”

“no way!”

“italia, mio home, here i come,” nate said, pinching his fingers together.

she gave him a small smile, muttering a ‘thanks’ as she stood up.

“well, now i wish i hadn’t been last, nothing can top that off,” she said, “but i hope you all like these. merry christmas, i hope we get to spend many more years as friends, and more evenings like this.” she said, handing them all their gifts and sitting down to watch their expressions. she loved giving gifts. 

nate received a new gaming headset, eloise got a tea set, marie got a sweater, and charles got a replica of an f1 car, he inspected it closely.

“it’s made out of carrara marble,” she explained. 

“wow, it’s… beautiful, thank you.”

“you’re welcome, i’ve… nevermind,” she said, charles was about to ask her what she wanted to say but was interrupted with nate announcing he was leaving. marie left with him, and not long after she was saying her goodbyes too.

“i guess that’s my cue to leave, too.”

“i didn’t see your car,” she said, she would’ve remembered seeing his car parked somewhere.

“i walked here, i didn’t see the point in driving,”

“huh,” she said, grabbing her bag and hanging it from her shoulder. charles frowned as she walked to elise, hugging her. “well, i’ll give you a lift if you want.”

yes, yes, yes, please. yes. go with her.

everything inside of him lit up at her offer, part of him couldn’t believe she was even offering in the first place. he said goodbye to elise quickly, rushing after her.

“wait up,” he said, jogging to catch up. 

they didn’t speak as the elevator went down, she could feel his eyes on her, shifting away to try and be subtle. as they exited the building he had to follow her, he didn’t even know what car she drove. 

“you’re shitting me,” he said, looking at the silver logo in front of the car.

“what? not all of us can afford a ferrari,” she said, “what? you can’t be seen inside a mercedes?” she smirked. out of instinct, charles walked to the driver’s side, but stopped in his tracks as she unlocked the door and watched him standing there. “i know this is usually your side, but you’re a passenger for these next minutes,” 

charles was left speechless as he walked to the passenger side, it felt so foreign. especially when she was the one behind the wheel. he closed the door as he got in, and waited for her to turn on the car. he turned to her when she didn’t.

“seatbelt,” she reminded him.

charles couldn’t stop the small chuckle that left his lips.

“you’re a really responsible driver,” he said.

“of course i am. no one knows what might happen.”

“i- i have to say, it’s really weird seeing you like this,”

“i know. but… turns out i’m a damn great driver. it helps me relax, and it’s… thrilling, to work in sync with the right machine to get from point a to point b…”

“now you get what i feel with my cars.”

“i always got that,” she clarified. “i always knew how important driving is to you. it just hurt to know that it was more important than me.”

“it wasn’t- it-”

“oh, please,” she chuckled humorlessly, turning on the car, she checked the mirrors before leaving the parked space. “i’ve made my peace with that a long time ago, it’s okay to admit it. i’m but hurt. not anymore.”

“but it wasn’t i-”

“listen, i don’t… i don’t want to discuss this, racing was your number one priority and that’s completely fine, i get it. it’s normal to get so caught up in it that you forget about everything else. i’m sure i used to do that too, with the museum and all,”

“you did, but not like i did. and i… i’m sorry, for… making you feel like that.”

“like i said, i made my peace with that long ago, i don’t need an apology.”

“well, i still feel like i owe you one.”

“it’s fine, you don’t have to feel guilty. we were young, dumb, still feeling like we were teenagers, pretending to even know what future was like. we were each other’s first love, it’s normal to still have feelings.”

“do you?”

“what?”

“have feelings? for me?”

“i feel a lot of things, charles, and six years, plus so many more as friends, are not easy to forget. it would’ve been nice, you know.”

“what?”

“if you would’ve been the one. it’s a story just straight from a movie. do you think-” she cut herself off.

“what?” charles asked, and he remembered the other thought she’d stopped herself from saying out loud back at elise’s.

“do you think that… if one thing had been different… everything would be different? today? now?”

charles stayed quiet, thinking about every little thing he would’ve done differently. 

“maybe. yeah.”

“yeah,” she repeated.

she’d been driving around in circles, they’d reached charles’ building about five minutes ago, but she hadn’t stopped driving. she kept doing the same four turns over and over again. 

“what were you going to say… when you gave me the car?” he asked.

“oh, that. it’s… nothing, really. just… that i’ve had that for a long time.”

“since we…”

“it was going to be your birthday present.”

“and you never threw that away.”

“it’s made from the same material as ‘david’, i wasn’t just going to throw that away. or give it to someone who wouldn’t cherish it.”

“well… thank you. and congratulations on being a great driver, though… i don’t think the cameras will agree after seeing you pass here for the seventh time,” he said as she was making a right turn. 

“thanks. and i guess… i have to thank you, too. if we… if we’d never broken up i… i never would’ve become me.”

“that… hurt,” he admitted. “but i get it. i should also thank you. you… did so much for me, gave up so much that i… i guess i took you for granted. and it only took having you away from me to really know how much you did for me without me even noticing. so… thank you. and i like this new you. you seem… happy.”

“i am. but still… i can’t shake the feeling that i’m missing something.”

“what?”

“you. even though you made me grow up, i still feel like i need to have my teenage side, and… there’s so much i want to do, but new me is responsible, she’s proper, she’s professional. and sometimes, i get tired of all of it. you always made me feel like a kid, in the best way possible, you made me feel like everything was possible, that it’s okay to let loose and have an adventurous side. i need that, i miss that.”

“well, i’m staying here all month. and i’m more than happy to help you rediscover your wild side.”

“don’t say it like that,” she laughed.

“no, no, i didn’t mean it like that, but-” he chuckled, “i guess that offer stands, too.”

“not happening. not now, at least.”

“so there’s a chance?”

“i don’t know. we’ll have to see.”

“i know. here’s adventure number one: drive to the harbor.”

“the- why?” she asked, driving there, anyway.

“we’re about to take a midnight stroll,” he explained.

“okay, but…  why the harbor?”

“it’s not your typical stroll, we’re not the ones doing the walking.”

“then?”

“have you ever seen ‘sedici’?” he asked.

“what’s that?”

“my yacht.”

“a midnight boat ride?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“what do you say?”

“you better be a damn good captain as i am a driver,”

“you’d be surprised.”

“i’m ready to be surprised.”

[bucky-bucket-barnes]

snow days

Summary: Upon realizing Bucky has never had a proper winter fun day, you take it upon yourself to show him the perfect night.

Pairing: bucky barnes x gn!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: ~750 words

masterlist | 2k writing challenge | library

~

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never had a hot chocolate?”

“I grew up poor in Brooklyn in the 30s, we didn’t drink much of it. I might have had it, but I don’t remember if I did,” he laughed at your shock.

Your jaw hung slack as you continued further and further into the conversation. “Bucky. We can’t keep dating. Not like this. We’re getting some hot chocolate,” you announced, tossing on a winter coat over your pajamas.

“Right now? Baby, it’s nearly midnight.”

“That’s more than enough time,” you retorted, handing Bucky his own jacket before slipping some gloves onto your fingers.

You traversed your way to the ground floor of your apartment building, hand in hand with Bucky. Upon exiting into the outside, your face was nipped with the cool wind of later winter. The streets were lit up with dazzling whites and golds, the city buzzing with the sound of late night holiday shopping. It was a cozy sight to behold.

“Slow down, the chocolate isn’t going to run from us,” Bucky called out from behind as you towed him along down the street, eager to reach your destination.

“We’re not going to get it, yet,” you answered, tightening your grip around his gloved hand. “We have to build a snowman first. It’s the rules.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“You’re going to make me work for my hot chocolate?”

“It’s not work if you’re doing it right,” you corrected.

Halting abruptly, Bucky bumped into you from behind, causing a small giggle to erupt from you. With a grand wave, you beamed as you showed Bucky where you would be creating your snowman. The park glistened with barely touched snow, the recent weather making sure there were heaps to spare. Children of the city had not gotten the chance to run around and leave muddy footprints within the perfect coat of white.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he smiled, following behind you as you made your way to the perfect patch of snow.

“Less talking, more building, Barnes,” you replied, already kneeling into the fluffy white ground to begin constructing your creation.

You both worked tirelessly, laughing delightedly as you made your incredibly crappy snowman. The occasional snowball was thrown, erupting in a brief fight before your faces both tired from the cold and you ultimately decided to get back to work. Bucky even scrounged the park for fifteen minutes looking for the perfect sticks to use as arms.

“I could only find one good arm,” he sulked, bringing the lone twig back in hand dejectedly.

“I think it gives Bobby character,” you reassured, sticking on loose rocks in the middle of him for makeshift buttons.

“Hmm, one arm. I guess he takes after me,” he grumbled, sticking the twig into the side of the snowman. “Also, Bobby? We can find a better name.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” he answered nonchalantly. “I like Ernie. It’s a classic.”

Try as you might, you couldn’t contain your laughter. “Ernie? Like the Sesame Street character?”

“Never seen it,” he replied. This happened a lot. There were so many references he never understood, never enough time to teach him them all.

“Fuck, you’re old,” you teased, earning a bashful smile from your boyfriend. “C’mon, I think we’ve earned some hot chocolate.”

Hand in hand, you two walked back into the big city, parting ways with your lopsided snowman. The sound of bells danced through the air, the smell of the many holiday desserts lingering within the late night atmosphere. You approached the first hot chocolate stand you spotted, the cart being decorated with ribbons of red and white.

“Cheers,” Bucky winked, holiday cup in hand.

“Cheers,” you replied, clinking your paper cups together.

“To an awesome winter day.”

“And many more snowmen. Even if they’re kind of ugly.”

Taking a deep sip of your drink, you felt the core of your body warm up. A bright smile sprung on Bucky’s face as he finished, a satisfied glow around him.

“Wasn’t that perfect?”

“I don’t need hot chocolate to have a perfect night with you,” he gushed, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Dork,” you teased, taking another sip.

“I love you too,” he smiled.

You walked back home, spending the rest of a very cold night snuggled under the blankets, talking until sleep consumed the both of you. It was a simple day, but one of Bucky’s favorites, nonetheless.

[tteokdoroki]

all the love in the world | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.1K

⇝ rating: 18+, mature.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, engaged!au, fluff and smut.

⇝ summary: as hard to believe as it may seem, bakugou lives for time off, where the days begin with him waking up by your side and  end with him falling asleep right next to you, while he thinks of all the ways he can love you during the hours in between.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy domestic bakugou ( i think this needed a warning okay? ), smut ( characters aged up to 20s ), soft morning sex, fingering ( female recieving ), dry humping, light!praise, heavy!breeding kink, switch!reader, dom!bakugou.

⇝ author’s note(s): hellooo my loves ! as a celebration of me reaching 100+ followers, i bring you my very first written imagine !! i love the idea of domestic baku so i hope you enoy reading as i did writing !! special thanks to @ozzy-bozzy​ for the teddy bear bracelets idea hehe

⇝ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou considered himself to be a very lucky person.

when he was younger he’d been blessed by a powerful quirk which only lead him to exceed his classmates back in U.A. he’d graduated said school’s hero course top of his class, even if he’d failed his provisionals the first time round— nothing could stop him from becoming the best.

so when the hot headed blonde bagged the role of side kick at a top hero agency and then launched himself to the highest points in the hero charts as a pro later on, katsuki felt like all of his dreams had come true.

that was until, he’d proposed to you.

you were katsuki’s final dream, for him to wait for you at the end of the aisle— your watery smile just for him. 

that’s the vision he saw in his sleep. when you had said yes to him, the night you got engaged under the stars and amongst the roses, it was then that the explosive hero had realised how lucky he truly was.

he had loved you for a long time, katsuki had— he almost couldn’t remember the time when he hadn’t. in the time that you’d spent together; soft gazes and lingering touches, you’d taught him a lot and he’d learned through your tolerance and generosity, something that had rubbed off on him, something he’d so desperately needed to cool down his hot demeanour.

he was grateful for a lot of things, all of the things you’d taught him— but mostly the entirety of you. while you’d always said that neither of you completed each other and only made one another better, bakugou knew that his life would be complete with you in it forever.

 he knew  from the moment you’d pinned him down underneath you during training back in high school— that he was going to make you his wife someday.

“jesus katsu, why’re you up s’early? it’s supposed to be our day off,” you mumble into your silk sheets; his scent sewn into your pillows. katsuki likes the orange silk that lines your bed; mostly because of the colour and partly because other fabrics irritate his skin. with sleepy eyes, you blink up at the blonde and catch him staring mid act. like always, bakugou looks away with a heated blush and paws it away from his cheeks. “whatcha lookin’ at dummy?”

one of kastuki’s favourite things is the way you look when you first wake up, groggily rubbing the sleep away from your eyes with a pout on your lips as the sun hits your face just right— creating a halo effect around you, like you’re his guardian angel…but he wouldn’t ever admit that to you, at least not until his wedding vows. “it’s the only time i get to look at you without hearin’ the dumb shit that comes out your mouth, woman.” katsuki grumbles back, finally meeting your eyes again.  

he can clearly see the love glittering your irises and the faint smile that plays teasingly on your lips as if you know that he’s joking. unwillingly; bakugou feels himself mirror the grin that you bare and a happy warmth then spreads across his chest.

“we still have the whole day ahead for you to ogle me like that katsuki bakugou,” you hum sweetly, the tail end of your words falling into a light giggle. the ash blonde feels his heart flutter just from the sound; a candied melody to his ears that he could never get tired of hearing. 

reaching over your shoulder, katsuki uses his warm hands to roll you over onto his awaiting lap. 

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as the sheets fall from your body to reveal yourself in one of his shirts with an old merch design and your fingers weave their way into his pretty blonde hair. 

now that you’re in his lap; the pro hero can see the smirk making its way into your face as you look down at him lovingly. “seems like you were doing more than just looking baby…”

your hips grind down against your lover’s now prominent erection that sits hidden in his dark sweats— earning a slight gasp from the man himself. “s-shut up, dumbass…” bakugou growls through gritted teeth while you move above him. 

his words stay lodged in his throat, he wants to tell you that you’re always on his mind no matter what he’s doing or looking at but instead they die down as he drops his head to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along the column of it.

early morning love making with you was what katsuki bakugou considered one of his many blessings. he loves being this close to you— feeling every dip in your skin and kissing every mark on your body, his lips work their way up from your jawline to your chin and finally attempting to land a solid kiss to your own lips.

“nuh, katsu—“ your breathless whine fills the air, sending shivers down the spine of the man below you. he moves up to kiss you again, gripping your hips tightly while your movements begin to sync. “no, morning…morning breath…”

bakugou huffs, hand finding the back of your head to tilt it down into a soft liplock— contrasting with the harshness of his earlier movements. “fuck morning breath, i haven’t made love to you properly in a fucking week so let me kiss you. fuck.” usually, katsuki would have added his salty pet name of ‘shitty woman’ to the tail end of his phrases but he bites his tongue, saving it for later.

you give into your fiancé then, falling in love with the way his lips meld against yours so passionately all over again. fingers that belong to bakugou dance underneath your shirt, finding you bare within the fabric. one hand slips between your plush thighs, smoothly rubbing circles into your swelling clit ever so gently.

your breath hitches as katsuki traps you under his touch, playing with your folds as they begin to grow slick and form a wet patch on his deep grey sweats, making him groan. 

the explosive pro pushes two of his digits past your entrance, curling them and watching with sparkling scarlet eyes as your mouth hangs open in of the prettiest moans katsuki’s ever heard— his mouth falls open with you while your head tilts back, exposing your sweat glimmering skin to the sun’s rays. “feel good baby? yeah, you like that?” he mumbles condescendingly, slowly pumping them inside of you. “yeah you do,  yeah you fuckin’ do.”

“yeah, katsu...more…” a  breathless moan escapes you with every thrust of bakugou’s hot fingers, the cheeky bastard setting off small scale explosions to stimulate you from within. he’s hot, the heat from his body filling the space between you and spreading right down to your glistening mound— causing slick to gush from your tiny abused hole. 

you can feel his cock pulse beneath you with every twist of his fingers to reach that spongy pleasure spot deep within your leaking hot walls.

katsuki’s thick fingers stretch open your tiny hole, making your mouth water at the thought of his weighty cock being the next thing press into you but your raging thoughts are swiftly interrupted by your fiancé— who pulls from you completely and sucks the two fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your sweet nectar.

katsuki keeps his vermillion eyes locked on you, the lewd action making saliva pool on your tongue. his own pink muscle darts out to wet his lips, no doubt spreading the taste of you across them before making a move to kiss you. 

the pro is quickly stopped, your hands that once roamed his bare back and messed hair, now pinning his own above his head.

bakugou is a strong man, he wouldn’t have been a top hero if he wasn’t— he trained constantly and sparred often with his fellow heroes but he doesn’t resist when you grip his wrists in your free hand, releasing his hard cock from it’s restraints before it slaps against his well toned stomach.

milky precum leaks against his warm skin, while you prepare yourself to mount him. the pair of you let out a groan in unison as you sink down on the hero’s thick length— as if the tensions and stresses of the week have melted away just him being sheathed inside of you.

“mnnn, so fuckin’ tight baby, gonna need to fuck you open again…”

bakugou’s voice is low and gravelly from the early morning, just how you like as his hips roll up into yours— further pushing his fat cock into you. his tip barely grazes your cervix  as you set the pace, lifting yourself up and down to bounce on your lover’s length. 

the way you feel inside, your soft velvety walls and gushing pussy make him buck up into you with more fever, as his own symphony of moans and weightless gasps dance through your ears. “yeah? take this pussy katsuki…m-make it yours,” you sigh, grip on his wrists loosening to the point where you set him free.  the blonde’s hands immediately move to grip your ass tightly— smirking at you lazily while the pads of his fingers sink into your flesh.

you look beautiful to him, bouncing on his cock and dripping all over his pelvis under the early morning sun, the way the gold lights up your hazy lust filled eyes.  

the fire of desire burns brightly in the depths of katsuki’s stomach, love finds its way into each of his thrusts from then on— mind clouding with the desire to fill you up so good with his love as the leaking  head of his thick girth drags against your walls, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. “that’s right yn baby…fuck that cock, fuck yeah baby,” he whispers brokenly to you, chest rising and falling desperately while sweat beads on his hairline. “love you, love you s’much...”

bakugou watches your gaze on him soften at his confession, the words he doesn’t say often but shows you everyday still hanging in the thick, warm air.  “i love you katsu, p-please,” your erratic thrusts slow to somewhat of a passionate grind, two lovers pressed hotly against one another as the sounds of your moans twist with that of skin on skin.

knot in your stomach tightening, katsuki can feel your release creeping on you from the way you clench around him at every plunge deep inside your sweet hole. strong arms wrap around you, katsuki noticing how you shake from pleasure above him while he brings you down onto loving thrusts as if to draw you closer. 

“gonna cum!”

your fiancé nods into your neck, rubbing smooth circles over your back as he pulls out of your heat completely and earns a needy whine from you. your hole spasms around nothing, right on the edge of release before bakugou forces his girth back into your accepting pushing. “cum for me angel, right on this cock,” he pants, holding you close while he rocks into you. “i've got you baby, let it all out…”

“mph, baku-! oh !”

hips stilling above his, you scratch and claw at any part of bakugou’s skin that you can— shaking as your release splashes against him, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head and white spots dancing across your vision. the tightness of your heat drives the pro right over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum painting your insides white as his release reaches your womb.

the pair of you lay still, catching your breath as you collapse forward on your lover’s chest. while your breathing slows, katsuki rubs warming circles into your back to help calm you down— only smiling softly when you look up at him with clear, affectionate eyes. “did so good for me yn, fuckin’ love it when you take my cock like that first thing in the morning,” his words are soft on his usually sharp tongue, bakugou smoothing a thumb over your cheek while using a forefinger to tilt your head up into a sweet kiss

“always and only for you, my love,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the simple gesture even after you pull away. “and if you keep cummin’ in me like that katsuki ‘m gonna end up pregnant one of these days…”

bakugou smirks, pressing smaller kisses all over your face to make you giggle. you smile and greedily accept each one, loving the these tender moments between yourself and your fiancé.  “maybe that’s the fucking point, dumbass,”  he quips, biting on your cheek after landing a kiss there. “trying to put a shitty little brat in you.”

despite the small bite to his words, a blush still manages to creep its way onto katsuki’s face as you lay your head down on his chest with a smack to his waist. the ash blonde means every word and you know it too, he can tell by the knowing smile and slight gleam in your eye.

you fall back asleep not long after bakugou cleans you up.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy counting every mark and bite he’d left on you as he tenderly wiped between your thighs and massaged over your skin. 

but he loved how cute you looked when curled up on his chest more, your hand clings to bakugou’s shoulder as if to check he’s still there even in your sleep— giving the hero ample opportunity to play with the ‘teddy bear’ bracelet thats cuffed to your wrist. you’d made it for one of your anniversaries; matching the ‘grizzly bear’ one on his own.

prying himself from your arms is no easy task for katsuki, your grip on him like an adorable iron vice or a child with a teddy bear. after setting himself free, the ash blonde with the crimson eyes heads down to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you— it was some what of a routine on your days off together, you always got the munchies after sex and bakugou knew just how to soothe your roaring appetite.

as he worked with the eggs and other breakfast ingredients, katsuki thought back to how much you praised him for his skills in the kitchen— he knew how much you loved his cooking and he would do anything to see you smile.

“god katsuki, i might have to start taking more days off it means i get to see my grizzly bear in the kitchen like this,” you hum from place leaning against the door frame. 

your fiancé turns round to face you with a light smirk, glimmering eyes inviting you further into the room. the explosive pro holds the sizzling pan he’d taken off the stove high above your head as you cuddle into his side, breathing in his warm caramel scent.

katsuki clicks his tongue, staring down at you fondly. “tell that to the fucking villains who fuck up the city every other day, maybe then we’d have more time to relax.” he counters, pulling a sweet chuckle from your sweet lips.

“if we start handing out your cooking, they’ll probably start turning themselves in!” you tease your lover back, swiping a bit of the pancakes from the pan above your head. katsuki grumbles and pats your ass indulgently— the supple skin peaking out from under the shirt that’s found it’s way back over your form. it’s a silent scold for eating before he’s fixed you a plate of all your favourites.

as usual bakugou pulls out your chair at the table, pressing his lips to your hairline before putting your steaming plate in front of you. your mouth waters while katsuki takes his seat opposite you with rolling eyes as he watches you tuck in to your breakfast. 

the entirety of your meal is filled with lingering gazes and hums of delight while you eat, almost as if you’re back on your first date ( bakugou spent half of the time watching you eat rather than doing so himself, but he just wanted to see if you liked the place ). 

leaning over the table to wipe syrup from your chin, the blonde smirks— quiet words falling calmly from his lips. “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

the birds chirps lovingly outside of your window, dancing under the sunshine— they remind you of your early mentor and often patrol partner hawks, who you needed to remember to invite to dinner soon. 

the weather is nice today and that gives you an idea. “let’s go out,” your eyes sparkle with a million dreams, each one bakugou wants to live out with you. “to the park with the roses, the pink ones where you—“

“where i proposed, got it,” katsuki smiles, the fond memory catching the tail end of his words. “i hear they introduced some new blooms too.”

you mirror his expression; stabbing your fork through a strawberry in the bowl of fresh fruit your lover had prepared for you. you hold the fork out to his lips and watch amusedly as he chomps the fruit from its place. “care to escort me, lover bear?”

“who else is going to? dumbass.”

“miss nightsky ! will ya sign my bag!”

“that’s a nice bag sweet one, you sure i can sign it?”

katsuki loves the way you are with kids, even though you’re a massive child yourself.

the pair of you decided to walk to the park; since the nice weather held up and it wasn’t too far from your private neighbourhood— even though it took a little longer to get there than expected. 

not that either of you minded, but many curious fans stopped to talk and ask for pictures; some even asked for autographs which you happily gave them. while the mighty ground zero was slightly grumbly about it, he adored how kind and patient you were with everyone you met no matter how old they were.

his vermillion eyes, though brownish looking under golden light, sparkle as you ruffle the little kid’s hair and wave politely to their awaiting parents. bakugou wants to have kids with you one day. 

it was something he hadn’t really thought about until recently, he knew it would be difficult, with both of you reaching the heights of your careers and the pair of you were still very private about your relationship as well, with word of your recent engagement already slipping into the tabloids.

there was no doubt that they’d speculate about your marriage too, no matter how private you kept it. keeping a child secret would be even harder. 

and yet; the thought of you holding a baby…his baby would, on some nights lull him to sleep.

you squeal like a little girl when the ash blonde stops to buy you an ice cream from a van by the entrance of the park; he can’t stand how much you love mint chocolate chip but buys you a towering double scoop anyways.  “how do you even eat that toothpastey shit?” bakugou grumbles, finishing off his orange popsicle as you walk into the flower garden.

“says the one who likes orange, you have no taste katsuki bakugou.” you chide but take his freehand nonetheless. the explosive pro’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand while you make your way through and he can’t help but pluck one of the pretty blooms from the bushes to tuck behind your ear.

you scold him for taking the flowers but your smile betrays you as katsuki dips you for a honeyed kiss on the lips. 

he’s never one for PDA but this was your spot, here just last year bakugou had sunk to his knees in front of you with an expensive diamond ring you were eyeing months before ( you would never say anything but katsuki always picked up on these things ). 

he would also never admit it, but his hand shook with every word that passed his lips and you were sure he had been crying harder than you were while he slipped a ring on your finger.

your secret kisses and tangled limbs hiding deep in the rose bushes are soon completely soaked by an onslaught of unexpected rain.

you shriek at the rain while katsuki grabs your hand, free arms thrown over your heads as you make a dash from the flower garden and head for the main streets in order to catch a bus.

the pair of you giggle as you stumble onto the vehicle, ringing out your drenched clothes and wiping at your wet faces as it heads home. bakugou pulls you into his arms, head resting atop yours to draw you closer— the heat from his quirk allows him to keep you warm and you get a load full of his sugary scent as well ( not that you mind ).

you stay like that on through the rustling traffic, cuddling like a cat to your heated fiancé but a tug on the bottom of bakugou’s wet shirt captures your attention. the pair of you look down to catch the innocent eyes belonging to a darling little girl. “u-uh h-hi mister gwound zewo!” the little one stumbles through her words and in the corner of your eyes you can spot the girl’s mother and give her a reassuring grin.

bakugou’s gaze softens at the curly haired girl and releases you to crouch down to her level despite the shaking bus.  his hand still holds onto yours though. 

he ruffles her hair with his free hand, making your heart warm— there was a side of katsuki the public never really got to see, where the hotheaded pro could be tender and quiet and often quite reserved. 

the media got a kick out of playing on the ash blonde’s explosive nature but moments like this let the real bakugou shine through.

“hey there kiddo, whatcha’ got there?” katsuki mumbles delicatley, noticing the girl hiding something behind her back.

“tisswue! for my favouwite hewo!” the little one says, gingerly holding it out to the blonde’s wet face for him to use. bakugou taps his cheek and cleans closer to let the little girl wipe his face with a tiny chubby hand. they chatter for the rest of the ride home— the girl bashfully twirling her hair around her fingers as katsuki compliments her quirk.

leaning your head on katsuki’s soused shoulder while you walk home, you look up at him with an adoring expression, wondering what he’d be like with a little girl of your own. “that was quiet adorable mister ground zero, you stole my hear away!” you tease, kissing your linked hands.

“yeah? well don’t get used to it shitty woman.” he says through gritted teeth and marches you both through the rain to get you home but the blush on his face tells you otherwise. if you ever had a daughter, you could only imagine what he’d be like with her.

katsuki heads straight for the shower when you get in, leaving you to pick a movie and order takeout as you’d discussed on the way home.

it was a regular routine for you both on nights off; you always picked the movie because if you left it up to your fiancé you’d end up watching some boring documentary on all might or cooking ( he was a closeted nerd at heart ). 

you settle on a cheesy romcom that you’ve seen about a hundred times because for one;  it’s your favourite and two, you’ll never get tired of seeing bakugou cry towards the end of the movie.

“take out should be here in twenty!” you call to your lover, when he passes by you to enter your living room.

“got it, now go wash up before you catch a cold, stupid—“ the ends of katsuki’s words are cut off by your stream of giggles, bouncing off your cream coloured walls. your ash blonde fiancé has half a mind to curse you out for slapping his ass through his fresh set of sweat pants but rolls his eyes nonetheless. 

he finishes pulling his tank top over his head while heading deeper into the room, not wanting to answer the door without one ( as much as your regular delivery driver would like that ).

while in the shower, you manage to scrub away stains of the rain and soreness from the day— washing over sweet love marks from katsuki with pride. a temporary reminder of his eternal love for you and you only. 

there’s already a change of clothes waiting for you when you step out of the shower; one of his old shirts and a set of boxers that you slip into comfortably. your nostrils are filled with nothing but the alluring scent of burning sugar, the traces left by bakugou himself.

he’s already munching on a box of tempura by the time you’ve headed back downstairs, crimson eyes light up when they land on you and you make a dive for the couch— rolling into katsuki’s side. “did you tip the delivery driver?” you ask, watching as your fiancé dips a piece of the food into some sauce before he holds it up to your lips.

“damn right i did, i didn’t wanna though…they kept staring at my arms,” bakugou revels in the way you laugh around the piece of food he pushes into your mouth. you chew with a grateful smile, the look of amusement never leaving your pretty face. “whatcha laughin’ at dumbass?”

“i think you forget how much the public loves your arms, ground zero.”

as soon as you press play on the movie, time seems to fly away from you both— the air is filled with streams of laughter and moments where you swipe from one another’s plates, picking on one another fondly. somehow by the time the film reaches it’s climax the food has been devoured and you’ve ended up huddling into bakugou’s chest. 

fingers laced with yours, bakugou twirls the diamond engagement ring you have on, around your finger, smiling at the precious reminder that you’re to be his forever and always.  “where do you think we’ll be in the future?” you question quietly, nuzzling into your fiancé’s side.

“married, of course.” crimson eyes find yours in the dimly lit room, almost rolling annoyance as if your question is the dumbest thing in the world. in response, you lean up and squish the explosive pro’s cheeks together and beam up at him while he scowls at you.

“stupid, you know that’s not what i meant,” the words despite harsh, leave your lips dreamily and a contented expression crosses your face. “i see us with kids, in a house much bigger than this one and a backyard that stretches for miles and miles—“ your words die warmly in your throat, figuring that you’ve gotten slightly carried away with the fanticies you’ve made for yourself and katsuki. 

in your mind, you can’t help but conjour up a litter of tiny bakugou’s running around a plush green garden— maybe a little dog too and your heart swells in your chest at the idea.

the hot head squeezes your hand, resurfacing you from your sea of thoughts. “you want kids? with me?” his voice is barely above a whisper, all of his vulnerabilities splayed out in the tone as he looks at you warmly.

“a whole family with you, as many as you want.”

suddenly, bakugou has you flipped onto your back and pinned underneath his muscular frame. 

his warm breath fans across your face making your eyes fall heavy with adoration. “four.” the blonde grunts, swooping down to brush his lips gently across yours, not quite kissing you much to your dismay. “i want four of those snotty little gremlins with you, maybe have the fifth by accident and then we’ll get a big fucking house for them to destroy—“

“f-five kids katsu?” you gasp out your words at katsuki starts to press increasingly harsh kisses to your jawline, settling on your neck while he licks over bites he’d left earlier today. 

bakugou murmurs something about ‘you said as many as i want’ before he’s growling at your hands that find their way into his blonde locks, tugging on them tightly as pleasure overwhelms your senses. 

he hums against your sweet skin, finding his place between your legs at the same time as his thoughts take him away from you. he’d love to see you pregnant, so full of his love and his children.

the movie is long forgotten by now as lust settles in every corner of the room. hands push beneath your shirt, groping and massaging your breasts to pull all sorts of sounds from you. 

bakugou forces a knee between your thighs, finally capturing your lips in a hungry and heated kiss— his tongue slips in your mouth after he pinches your thigh, fighting yours in a passionate dance for dominance. “gonna fuck a shitty little brat into you, yn,” katsuki almost whines as he pulls away from your inviting lips to press your foreheads together. you look gorgeous beneath him, flustered with swollen lips from each of your rough kisses and there’s no doubt in his mind you’re thinking the same about him. “gonna fill you up so good, gonna make pretty babies with you, hah?”

“ka-katsuki!” you can’t help but mewl at his breathless sinful words while you fist at his tank top. everything is hot, burning hot and you grind up into him with a newfound desperation, the friction against his hardening length sending your eyes rolling with ecstasy.. “we’re not even— mmm god, right there— we’re not even married yet!”

“gonna be at some point, why waste time fucking trying? not when i can cum in you and give you one right fucking now—“  bakugou moans heavily into your ear, diving back into a sloppy kiss as he fumbles around with the string of his sweatpants. 

you’re whimpering out for him, pulling the blonde into a lustful trance while you make a move to kick off your underwear when the sound of shattering glass pierces through the bubble of horniness you’ve both created. “shit.”

you both freeze and your matching gazes drop to the floor; a rapidly growing stain of red wine spilling onto the carpet under the coffee table your take out was on. 

the fluffy white rug had been a housewarming gift that katsuki begrudgingly accepted from your old school friend and fellow pro, izuku midoriya— so the sight of the now ruined rug makes you both burst out into harmonious laughter. you’re sure the number one wouldn’t mind. it’d make a great wedding story too.

you focus your eyes back on katsuki, cupping his face as that same love filled smile from earlier returns to your face. ”let’s start trying tomorrow, then?”

“tomorrow it is.” bakugou grins back, dotting your hairline with sweet pecks before cuddling into you.

baby making can wait for now, he supposes, for with another day off— he has all the time and all the love in the world to give to you.

[pleasantanathema]

Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

[marwritesgood]

Peach | S. Basett

Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader

Timeframe: Season One AU

Summary: Y/n tries to ignore her aunt’s words, while Simon prays he is not yet out of time.

PART ONE  //  PART TWO

masterlist

A/N: This fic is just over 8K words

I cannot thank you enough for receiving this mini-series with so much love and support! I am so grateful that so many of you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed creating it.

I hope you like this ending <3

Philippa was still standing on the steps outside her home when Simon arrived. 

He raced through gates atop his horse but, when he quickly realised Y/n was nowhere in sight, he came to a halt. A worker appeared beside him as he came down from the saddle, guiding the horse away so that Simon could approach Lady Bennet.

“Lady Bennet-”

“I take it you hesitated to come here?” Philippa questioned bitterly. She had made it quite clear to the Duke that time was of the essence. Yet, he stood, dishevelled and panting because he was late, despite his delayed best efforts.

“Lady Bennet, please help me,” Simon exhaled, taking his hat off swiftly and holding it to his chest. Philippa had begun walking towards her home before she turned around again.

“Grant me one reason as to why I should help you, your grace,” she sneered. “Did you not possess every available opportunity to make amends with my niece ever since her arrival in London?”

“I did,” he cried, desperate to obtain Philippa’s assistance. “I had every opportunity but, like the fool I am, I took each one for granted. I have been far too preoccupied with affairs I do not care for; I have stupidly disregarded that which matters most to me; my relationship with Y/n.”

He grew quiet for a moment, during which the only sound heard in the cortile was that of Simon’s panting, a consequence of his frantic outburst. Philippa’s cold and glaring expression remained unfazed. She could not yet decide whether she trusted him. 

Simon waited until he caught his breath to speak again.

For any other person in the world, he would uphold his reputation of being reserved and brooding. However, Y/n was not any other person in the world to him. She meant a great deal to Simon, and he was willing to disregard his typical persona, stoicism and all if it meant fixing things between them. 

Even if it meant a vocal revelation of how he truly felt.

“I... I love her,” Simon admitted, the crinkle between his brows a confirmation of his sincerity. Philippa’s scowl faded. “I know I am undeserving of your ladyship’s help... just as I am unworthy your niece, but I can no longer deny the true nature of my feelings for her. Nor can I begin to describe the regret I have for not being here sooner so that I could confess this to her.”

As silence filled the courtyard once more, Simon glanced at the floor beneath him, overcome with regret and sorrow. Had he reached the Bennet home quicker, it would have been easy. 

“Well then... you ought to begin thinking,” Philippa stated flatly, inciting confusion upon Simon. She smirked, amused by Simon’s response. He always was slow to catch on. “Your grace, if I am going to help you reach my niece, the very least you can do is think of what you will say to her.”

A wide grin slowly made itself apparent on Simon’s face. Suddenly the sorrow he felt previously was beginning to be replaced with a newfound hope- one he would, this time, indulge in and act hastily upon. He was not going to allow himself to repeat his same mistakes.

“Alright now,” she smiled. “I presume you have a plan in mind?”

Simon thought for a moment. While he feared he would miss Y/n’s departure, Simon, unfortunately, did not consider what he would do. He began panicking, straining his train of thought as he sought for even a scrap of an idea. 

Then Simon remembered how he found himself in this position. He recounted all the times in his past, where he hesitated. Where became so enveloped in all the matters that burdened his mind, he lost sight of what mattered most to him. 

He refused to fall subject to that mentality again.

Therefore, for the first time in his life, Simon turned to his instincts. Not his desire for perfection. Not his pride or his arrogance or his vengeance. What mattered most at that moment was how he could best apologise to Y/n and prove that he loved her dearly.

“Do you know the man whose proposal she is to accept?”

Philippa nodded. She narrowed her eyes at Simon, curious as to what he intended to do. Lady Bennet knew she would inevitably agree, no matter how strange the plan turned out to be, but she was still greatly curious and the slightest bit concerned.

“Can you delay him?” Simon asked. “By the time Y/n’s carriage reaches her home, it will be dusk; thus, I presume she will plan to meet with her suitor in the morning. I need you to delay that from happening.”

“And what will you do?” Philippa questioned. “Would it not be wiser for us both to leave immediately?”

Simon shook his head. He thought of the right way to phrase his answer. If Simon revealed his plan to Lady Bennet, he knew she would support him wholeheartedly. However, he thought it best to keep the better part of it concealed. It would have more effect that way, he believed.

“There are a few places I must visit beforehand,” he explained.

“You are asking me to delay Mr Graham so that you can visit a few places?!”

“I am asking your Ladyship to have trust in me,” Simon pleaded. “Hurting your niece is my biggest regret. I intend to atone for my mistakes, not repeat them.”

Philippa stared intently at the Duke. It was a massive ask of her; to leave her family momentarily and interfere with Mr Graham’s pursuits. However, every instinct she possessed led her to believe that Simon was sincere. The confidence he held gave her hope that his plan would work. She sighed.

“Then you must leave immediately,” Philippa ordered him. “Visit the places that say you must visit and then race hastily to my sister’s home. I will do my best to delay Mr Graham until then.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Simon cheered before doing just as he was told.

He raced towards his horse and climbed atop the saddle. Philippa dashed inside to organise yet another carriage headed to her hometown. Both equally determined to keep their beloved Y/n from accepting Mr Graham’s proposal.

***

The Y/l/n household was, needless to say, very much hectic. Y/n had arrived home the night before, hoping she would, at the very least, be able to have some sleep before the next morning. That proved to be impossible.

The words of her Aunt Philippa haunted Y/n during her journey home. Then, just as she feared, it continued to do so as Y/n tossed and turned in her bed. Once she finally began to settle, her mother barged in with sever different dresses for her to try on. 

“Sit up straight, dear.”

Y/n flinched at the sudden sound of her mother’s orders. She reluctantly obeyed and straightened her back. When Mrs Y/l/n turned back around, Y/n sighed exasperatedly, slumping her shoulders ever so slightly. Her hands curled into tight fists as she tried to keep herself from dozing off yet again. 

“I do not understand,” Mrs Y/l/n agonised as she paced the sitting room. This was an all too familiar situation for Y/n. “Mr Graham is known for being punctual, yet he is running terribly late.”

Y/n could care less that Mr Graham was late. Not while she was living off of less than an hour of slumber. 

“You don’t suppose I could have a scone while we wait, mama,” Y/n mumbled. She was not particularly hungry so much as she was desperate for some energy.

“Do not be silly, Y/n. You mustn’t risk staining your dress,” Mrs Y/l/n replied. Eager to make sure everything went perfectly, she sat beside her daughter and asked the same question she had asked every hour previously. “Now, have you prepared what you will say?”

“Yes, mama, for the fifth time, yes,” Y/n droned. Her exhaustion only intensified her irritability which her mother seemingly lived to test continually. “I don’t understand your concern with how I respond. It matters not how I respond but that I simply remember to say ‘yes’?”

On any other given day, Mrs Y/l/n would have scolded her daughter. However, for reasons unknown to Y/n, she simply sighed and took hold of her hand. 

“Words hold great power, dear,” Y/n’s mother explained simply. She glanced down at her daughter’s hand momentarily before meeting her gaze once more. “They are a valuable indicator of one’s character. How Mr Graham proposes to you will tell you of his attitude towards you and your future marriage. How you respond will do the same to him.”

Y/n nodded, knowing first-hand the amount of truth in her mother’s statement. 

She did not care for her response to him as she did not care for him or their future marriage. Y/n simply wished to move past what had happened with her and Simon. This was beginning to become clear to her.

“I will respond to him properly, mama,” Y/n assured.

Mrs Y/l/n smiled, lifting her hand to cup the side of her daughter’s face. It was slowly dawning on her that in only a matter of time, Y/n would be married. When Mrs Y/l/n sent Y/n her letter, she knew the issue of her daughter being unwed would resolve itself in one way or another. However, Mrs Y/l/n was taken by complete surprise when Y/n came home on her own accord. 

It was far too out of character for her.

She tried her best to look past it. Mrs Y/l/n rushed to get everything in order for Mr Graham’s arrival. However, it was becoming clear to her that she had been too preoccupied with doing so.

As Mrs Y/l/n struggled to find a way to question Y/n about her behaviour, Mr Graham’s carriage arrived outside her home. Y/n looked out her window and jumped to her feet. Before she could race to the door, her mother held her back.

“Before he comes in, dear,” Mrs Y/l/n began. “Are you... Are you sure you are ready for this? Is this truly what you want?”

Y/n scoffed. Her previous concerns about accepting Mr Graham’s proposal suddenly became easy to look past. Y/n’s resentment for her mother began to surface, adding much to her motivations to go through with marrying.

“Mama, please do not pretend to care about what it is I want.” 

Mrs Y/l/n had not expected her to react in such a manner. She was not prepared to have her mothering methods confronted. Y/n’s mother’s primary concern had always been ensuring her daughter marries. It gave Mrs Y/l/n significant discomfort to realise how this resulted in her overlooking what should have mattered more. 

Not to mention how she only came to realise this just as her daughter was about to agree to marry a man she expressed great disinterest in just weeks before.

Y/n rushed out of the room before her mother could say anything further. As she reached the hallway, Y/n watched the doors burst open. Much to her surprise, it was not Mr Graham alone who walked through. Instead, Mr Graham was with her Aunt Philippa, who relentlessly attempted to guide him in the opposite direction.

“Mr Graham, please, I must show you-”

“Lady Bennet, you have shown me enough gardens,” Mr Graham insisted, trying his best to contain his annoyance. “In fact, I am quite certain you have shown me almost every garden in town.”

“All except the best one, sir, which is located just outside the-”

“- Aunt Philippa, enough!” Y/n shouted. 

Mrs Y/l/n reached the hallway just as Y/n called her sister’s name. Mr Graham exhaled tiredly before holding his hands behind his back and regaining his composure. 

Philippa sighed. Her attempts at delaying Mr Graham by badgering him to stop at all 9 gardens on their way to her sister’s home all appeared to be in vain. Simon had yet to arrive, and it was clear they were out of time.

“Philippa?” Mrs Y/l/n said in shock. Her sister had always made an effort to give notice before visiting.

“Hello, sister,” Lady Bennet replied awkwardly, trying her best to force a smile. 

Y/n had been glaring at her aunt. 

She was furious that after she made clear her intention countless times to Philippa, her aunt still chose to meddle. Y/n felt more adamant than ever to go through, even if to simply spite her aunt. It was due time that they learned to refrain from making her decisions for her.

Even if it meant marrying a man she did not particularly care for.

She forced herself to appear alright, mainly in the hopes that it would influence her feelings. That it would obliviate her concerns. It was her last resort at being ok with what she was about to do. 

“Mr Graham,” Y/n called out. The man stood tall, prompting Philippa to grimace. “You may join me in the sitting room.”

She walked ahead of him, guiding Mr Graham to the room. Once he walked in, Y/n turned around and closed the door before returning her attention to him. She fiddled with her hands while he cleared his throat. 

Y/n was fixated by the words of both her mother and her aunt. She kept asking herself the same question Philippa had. Could she be happy? Could she possibly find any enjoyment in marrying a man like Mr Graham? In living an inevitable future with him?

Mr Graham was exhausted from the long journey he was forced to take with Lady Bennet. For the most part, his mind was blank, aside from his impending desire to return home.

“Is there anything you wish to say, Mr Graham?” Y/n asked. Mr Graham was taken aback. “Before I give you my response, that is.”

Y/n was resorting to humouring her mother’s advice. She wanted to see how Mr Graham was going to ask for her hand so that, this time, she could identify his intentions. Y/n wished to put aside the conclusions she reached about Mr Graham; he was arrogant and ignorant. 

She hoped he could prove that he had one if any, good qualities aside from possessing wealth. 

“Uhm-” Mr Graham coughed. “You will remember my father is the primary supplier of livestock commodities in our town.”

“Yes, I do remember-”

“By livestock, I am of course referring to domesticated animals raised in agricultural settings,” he continued, despite Y/n’s best efforts to get a word in. It seemed Mr Graham believed he had reason to take her for someone simple-minded; reasons Y/n did not care for but absolutely resented. “And by commodities, I mean the products-”

“-Yes, I am aware of what words mean, Mr Graham,” Y/n retorted.

“That you are,” he smiled, patronising her even more.

Outside the sitting room, Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n stood with their ears pressed against the door in the corridor. The more they heard Mr Graham speak, the more concerned they became for Y/n. Philippa’s stomach churned as she thought of her poor niece being wed to such a man. She could hardly believe she managed to last the journey there with him and not be at her wit’s end.

“I was recently made aware of the amount your father is offering for your hand,” Mr Graham stated, wincing as he did so. Y/n knew how small her dowry was, and she was annoyed that Mr Graham unnecessarily reminding her. “And you will be pleased to know that I am willing to look past it.”

“How charitable of you, sir,” Y/n muttered. Mr Graham did not catch on to her sarcasm. He was an easily distracted man, Y/n concluded. One need only groom his ego, even sarcastically, for him to be oblivious.

Y/n was reminded again of what her Aunt

“Yes, it is quite charitable of me,” Mr Graham remarked, smiling as he felt pleased with himself. “In fact, that is the very reason I first asked for your hand. Father believed it a grand idea that I marry a woman of your kind. Should attract a different demographic to choosing Graham as their supplier.”

“A woman... of my kind?” 

The Grahams were the primary supplier of livestock. However, the few other families in Y/n town, who were not white, found livestock commodities elsewhere. It was clear Y/n that they viewed her as a pawn in their pursuit of broadening their clientele.

Y/n could already foresee where the conversation was headed, and suddenly her aunt’s questions held all the more weight.

‘Do you truly believe you will be happy?’

It took her only a moment to think it over. There was no denying that Mr Graham possessed all the ignorance and arrogance Y/n suspected he did, so she considered if it was worth bearing. Would a mediocre future with him be worth having to endure his jabs at her identity, her class and her family?

Mr Graham and his father dealt with domesticated animals for a living. It was clear that they viewed Y/n just the same.

Thus, her mind was decided.

“I expected you to be grateful,” Mr Graham commented, confused as to why Y/n was not flattered that of all the two women who made eye contact with him at the town ball. It was she who received a proposal from him. “You do not exactly have an abundance of suitors lined up at your door. Not to mention, I was generous enough not to withdraw my proposal after you asked for... time to consider your answer.”

Out in the corridor, the two sisters exchanged glances. Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n both argued quietly over who was to barge in and reprimand Mr Graham.

“That is quite enough, Mr Graham,” Y/n hissed, beating both her mother and her aunt to it. Her mind was, after all, decided. 

Y/n had struggled for most of her life with control in that she had little of it. If it was not society dictating how she was to live and breathe, it was her mother. This time would be different, Y/n decided. 

This time, she would be taking control and making decisions based solely on her own input.

“Thank you for expressing your feelings, your family history and your intentions with such candour,” Y/n began sweetly. Just as she expected, Mr Graham took nothing but pride in what he believed was sincere gratitude. “And thank you for being so charitable as to offer a lowly woman such as myself a proposal of marriage.”

Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n listened in with concern. They both knew Y/n too well to believe that she send Mr Graham off with civility and decorum. Y/n was the least bit concerned for either.

“You have been so generous with your time,” Y/n continued. “Therefore, I will not keep you waiting any longer... Mr Graham, I will not be accepting your proposal.”

Y/n took great pleasure in rejecting his proposal. Mr Graham grew pale as he quickly realised what her answer was. He stood on the opposite side of the sitting room, yet Y/n was desperate to further away.

“You... You mustn’t be serious,” he exhaled dumbfounded. The man possessed a great ego when he first enters Y/n’s home. Thus she was determined to shrink, if not demolish it. 

“On the contrary, sir,” Y/n smiled, this time genuinely. “I am perfectly serious.”

“S-surely you have not considered the ramifications of denying my proposal,” Mr Graham reasoned. 

Y/n was far too accustomed to being lectured by white men on not considering her actions’ consequences. They, of all people, she believed, were the least bit qualified to talk another on such matters. Not when they are granted every luxury and advantage at birth.

“Miss Y/l/n, you must know, after two seasons of rejected proposals, it is doubtful you will receive another after me,” Mr Graham explained. He was merely adding insult to injury. “And with a dowry as small as yours, I predict your future will be bleak.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Y/n replied, her head held high as she knew Mr Graham was expecting her to be grovelling. “Perhaps I will not receive another proposal after you. Perhaps I will be doomed to live a life of struggle and severe austerity, but make no mistake Mr Graham. I would sooner commit to the life of an impoverished spinster than I would, ever again, entertain the prospect of being your wife.”

Y/n marched towards the door and swung it open, revealing Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n eavesdropping on their conversation. Y/n hoped that would be the case, as an audience’s presence prompted Mr Graham’s mortification to increase tenfold. 

“I must ask you to leave immediately.”

Mr Graham did not wait another moment. He just about sprinted out the door, determined to never step foot in the Y/l/n home again. Y/n stood in the hallway with a smirk and a proud glimmer in her eye. If she felt as a result of taking control, her only regret was not doing so sooner.

Perhaps Y/n would regret her decision later in her life. Maybe she only created more issues for herself than anything else. However, all that would be affairs she would attend to last, in the far off future. For now, she was happy. 

Y/n headed towards her bedroom without saying a word to her mother nor her aunt. She had not done so on purpose. She was simply desperate to change out of her corset and resume resting her fatigued body. Once Y/n was altered, she sat on the edge of her bed. As she let out an audible sigh, Y/n slumped her shoulders and fell back. 

She had never been so grateful for her mattress.

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily. She was very sleep-deprived, yet she was on an incredible high from the adrenaline of rejecting Mr Graham so explicitly. Before she opened her eyes, Y/n felt the mattress sink at her sides. As she opened her eyes, she realised both her mother and aunt were lying beside her.

“I must apologise to you both,” Y/n explained, reach her arms out to hold each of their hands. “I have caused you both a great deal of grief. And it all appears to be in vain now that I have rejected Mr Graham.”

Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n turned to face Y/n, both with the same expression. 

“You may be sorry for many things in life, dear,” Mrs Y/l/n began. “But you mustn’t dare apologise for denying Mr Graham’s hand... you mustn’t ever.”

Y/n smiled. She was unsure what motivated her motivated to have such a change in character. However, she was far too pleased with it to question it. 

“Any thought as to what you will do now, dearest?” Philippa asked. She looked over to her niece with her brows raised, and her sister followed suit. 

It was clear that neither of them could keep Y/n from doing what she wanted. Therefore, it was decided that both Philippa and Mrs Y/l/n would simply stand aside and hold her hand throughout it all. Y/n thought for a moment.

“Perhaps another season?” Y/n answered.

In an ideal world, Y/n would have opted for something different. Perhaps she would have embraced the idea of being a spinster. In perfect world, such a fate would not be so grim. However, that was not the world Y/n lived in.

And so she opted to embrace the best and only option she had.

“Truly, dear?” Mrs Y/l/n exclaimed. While she was overcome with excitement, she wanted to ensure it was her daughter’s genuine desire. 

“Yes, mama,” Y/n insisted, smiling weakly. She hoped in time the prospect would become more appealing to her. “-and it will be much different this time, hopefully for the better, as I am now willing to comply with you and your rules and your overprotective nature. I want it all.”

Mrs Y/l/n did not take offence. Instead, she simply laughed and leaned her head in to kiss Y/n’s temple. She had raised a mighty blunt and greatly opinionated daughter. 

Mrs Y/l/n was most proud of it.

“I must excuse myself,” Y/n’s mother said. She placed her arms behind her and lifted herself off Y/n’s mattress. “Your father will be delighted to hear the news, I am quite sure.”

Y/n laughed at her mother’s excitement. Once Mrs Y/l/n left to recount the morning to her husband, it was just Y/n and her aunt. 

“I hope you won’t mind me asking, dear,” Philippa whispered, inching closer to her niece. She feared the next subject of conversation would strike a chord with Y/n. “Has any of this changed your feelings... towards Simon?”

“No,” Y/n answered shortly, her voice neither louder nor quieter than previously. “He will soon be a married man, so it is most appropriate I refrain from paying him any mind so as to not remind myself of my feelings for him.”

Philippa huffed, torn as to whether or not she should tell her niece. Would doing so disrupt the duke’s plans? Would it not be better for Y/n to hear the truth from Simon himself when he eventually came? Would he ever arrive?

“I, however, must admit- whatever rage and anger I once held against him has since passed,” Y/n sighed. “You were right in what you said before... Although it will not be me who marries Simon, I do hope to marry someone like him.”

Someone like who he was before he became Duke Hastings, Y/n thought.

“You do?” Philippa smiled. She decided not to reveal anything to her niece quite yet. Lady Bennet was confident such a task should be carried out by Simon and him only.

“Hmm,” Y/n nodded. “Someone of good character and of a kind heart. A man who does not resent me when I raise arguments but rather engages in them.”

“It is the least of what you deserve in a husband, my dear,” Philippa replied.

The two of them shuffled to the top of Y/n’s bed, where her pillows laid. Both were exhausted from travelling in from London and enduring what had been a most eventful morning.

They both remained silent to get some sleep in before Mrs Y/l/n would eventually call them down for breakfast. However, just as Philippa began to drift off, his niece disrupted the quiet.

“Aunt Philippa,” she murmured. “I never did ask you what exactly compelled you to come... let alone badger Mr Graham as a means of delaying his arrival.”

Y/n was unsure what she was expected her aunt to reply. Philippa grew nervous as she tried to respond in a manner that would not reveal the real reason she came to her sister’s home.

“I-I,” Philippa stammered quietly. “-I simply could not sit idle... and let you accept Mr Graham’s proposal.”

Y/n hummed before turning to her side. It was a predictable answer, yet it left her with a bitter feeling of disappointment. She slept without  

Philippa sighed in relief before hoping that wherever Simon was, whatever it was he was doing that moment, that it would not hinder him any longer from finally reaching the Y/l/n home.

***

Y/n awoke from her nap to an empty bed and an open room. She was curious about where her aunt had gone, not to mention why her mother did not wake her for breakfast. The sky had darkened significantly since she first fell asleep, though Y/n was sure it was not yet evening.

She climbed out of bed and donned a simple dress. Y/n could hear the faint sound of her parents talking, so she suspected they were with Philippa. Afterwards, Y/n wandered down the steps of her home and headed to the dining room. The conversation grew quiet, prompting her to call out.

“Have you truly begun eating without me?” Y/n laughed as she pushed the doors open. 

As she stepped inside, a man stood from his seat- across the table from Philippa and Mr and Mrs Y/l/n. He turned to face Y/n with his hands held behind his back.

“Simon.”

Y/n was awestruck. All she could say was his name, and after muttering it quietly when he stood, she found herself left speechless. What could motivation could he possibly have to travel there from London. 

“His grace will be joining us for dinner,” Mrs Y/l/n explained, refuting Y/n’s last hopes that it was not yet evening. “It will not be ready for a small while, so perhaps you could walk him to the garden in the meantime.”

“‘Tis the best one in town,” Philippa commented, a reference to the wild goose chase she led Mr Graham on just earlier that day.

Y/n remained quiet, unsure as to what was happening. She expected her mother to be repulsed by the sight of Simon. Y/n had, after all, rejected countless marriage proposals for reasons involving him. However, she was not repulsed. 

She was smiling. Glowing, rather. Even Philippa and Y/n’s father seemed to be beaming despite sitting in silence. Y/n could not decide whether that should comfort her or worry her.

“He requests a private audience with you before dinner is served,” Mrs Y/l/n continued.

“H-He... does?” Y/n stuttered, looking at Simon in confusion. He appeared to be avoiding her gaze, which further provoked her curiosity.

“I do,” Simon replied shortly.

Y/n turned to her mother in confusion. Indeed, she would not send her unmarried daughter off, with an available man, on an unchaperoned walk without explanation nor context.

“I cannot possibly leave you to make dinner alone, mama,” Y/n stated. The thought of walking with Simon, especially after the nature of their last conversation, left her much unsettled.

“Nonsense, I will offer my assistance,” Philippa responded. Y/n narrowed her eyes at her aunt. She had always avoided being in the kitchen with her sister by all means necessary.

“It is decided then,” Mrs Y/l/n cheered, guiding Simon and Y/n towards the door that led to their garden.

“Mama, it looks as though it will begin to rain,” Y/n whispered, hoping to stop her mother but to no avail.

“You will not be far from the house, dear,” Mrs Y/l/n replied, opening the back door and guiding the two outside. “Should that be the case, you need only take a short walk back.”

Before Y/n could think of another way to avoid the walk, her mother rushed inside, slamming the door close behind her. There was no more avoiding, it seemed. Y/n sighed before reluctantly walking towards her mother’s botanical garden. 

He was initially quiet. Simon had rehearsed what he was to say several times before he arrived. However, it was not until he saw Y/n again that all his prepared words vanished from his memory.

Y/n was conflicted. She was overcome with a myriad of emotions, which always seemed to be the case for Simon. While she was still very hurt by his actions and was determined to voice her feelings, Y/n felt it necessary to first break the ice with civility.

“How long will you remain in town?” Y/n asked.

“I have not yet decided,” Simon answered, after a moment of deliberation. He believed it wise to tread lightly in their conversation, though he too was determined to let his feeling become known.

His answer left Y/n’s curiosity to grow. 

“Why not?” She queried. “I suspect Miss Bridgerton will be eagerly awaiting your return to London.”

Simon smirked. He missed her witty remarks terribly, just as he missed her company. Y/n had not intended for her response to land with such snideness. However, it was clear to her that Simon did not resent it.

“You suspect wrong,” he answered gleefully, catching Y/n off guard. Simon took amusement in her confusion but did not hesitate to clarify the situation. “She has already promised her hand to another... His royal highness Prince Friedrich. I was informed of the news this morning.”

“You do not seem upset,” Y/n commented as she studied Simon carefully. 

“That is precisely why I wished to speak with you,” he explained. 

Simon stopped walking, prompting Y/n to do the same. They stood by her mother’s hyacinths, specifically the purple ones. Simon took inhaled deeply as he prepared to explain himself and as he hoped, with all his might, that she might forgive him.

“I lied to you,” he began.

“Yes,” Y/n muttered quickly before Simon could continue. Had he genuinely come all this way just to recount their argument, she wondered. “I remember our conversation vividly.”

“No,” Simon cried. “What I meant to say was that I lied to you... when I told you that I was courting Miss Bridgerton and that I intended to marry her.”

Y/n remained silent, allowing Simon to continue.

“She approached me earlier this season,” he explained. “- with a proposition that I pretend to court her. She needed more suitors, and I sought to improve my public image.”

Y/n recalled the countless articles written about Simon, painting him as a stoic and brooding snob. It made sense that he wanted to change this portrayal, Y/n, though.

“I tried my best to put an end to our pretence earlier... on the day you approached me at Hyde Park, in fact,” Simon said. “However, Miss Bridgerton was adamant that it continues until she could attract the attention of Prince Friedrich. And I had already given her my word not to reveal our ruse to another soul.”

Y/n remained quiet as she took in his revelation. The more Simon spoke, the more Y/n understood why he acted so cold to her. He was always most irritable when he was hiding something.

“Peach,” Simon sighed. He reached out for Y/n’s hand, and, to his surprise, she did not pull away. “For all the pain and sorrow I caused you that night at the gala, I am so sorry.”

She squeezed his hand tightly as a way of comforting him. Y/n knew the way Simon could be so cruel to himself. Considering the impossible position he was placed in, she could only imagine the extent to which this had been burdening him. 

“While I wish I had been spared from getting hurt,” Y/n began. Simon winced but nodded. He, too, wished she had not been caught in the middle. “I do understand why you had to lie to me... and I think it unfitting if I were to continue to hold that against you.”

Simon exhaled in relief.

Y/n smiled, comforted by his reaction. She, too, was relieved. After the gala at the Danbury estate, Y/n deemed Simon a stranger, someone she could no longer recognise. Yet, as they stood opposite each other in her mother’s garden, Y/n felt she knew exactly who the man that stood before her was.

The two continued walking across her mother’s garden. After Simon thanked Y/n several times for being so understanding, she recounted her morning to him. Simon struggled to contain his laughter when Y/n explained the 9 gardens Philippa forced Mr Graham to stop.

“So what will you do now?” Simon asked curiously. 

“I will have to endure another season,” Y/n replied. “I have already promised mama I would comply with her this time around. Hopefully, my luck has not yet run out."

Simon nodded, though he resisted the urge to frown. She appeared to be excited. Hopeful, even. He worried this indicated a change in her affections for him. Nonetheless, he cast his worries aside for a moment. Y/n’s happiness was his primary concern.

Simon thought back to the story Y/n told of her rejecting Mr Graham’s proposal. In particular, he remembered the comment Y/n said he made regarding how dowry.

“If that is the case,” he began. “Then I insist on making a donation... to contribute to your dowry.”

Y/n’s feet came to a halt as she furrowed her brows in both shock and confusion. Instinctively, she began devising a way to reject his offer without offending him. Y/n was never oblivious to the significant difference in her financial standing to Simon’s, but she certainly never wanted to take advantage of it.

“It can remain anonymous,” Simon insisted. He knew his offer was far from appropriate as a woman’s dowry was her family’s responsibility. However, that was precisely what Y/n was to him: family. “If you are concerned about what others might say, I assure you I will personally see to it that the donation remains private.”

“Simon, no-”

“- Please, I insist,” he held firmly. Y/n continued to shake her head profusely, but Simon refused to give in. “It is the least I can do after playing such a significant role in hindering you from marrying these past two seasons.”

Y/n paused, taken aback by the fact he knew that. 

“Simon,” she began. Her tone was neither shocked nor angry. “You mustn’t hold yourself accountable for a decision I made. Yes, you may have been the reason for it, but it was I who ultimately made a choice... And I take full responsibility for the position I am now in as a result.”

Simon nodded sheepishly. 

“Regardless,” he said softly. “I still insist... You mean a great deal to me, Peach. Ensuring you have a befitting dowry is the least of what I owe to you, particularly after all our years of friendship.”

The grey clouds grew darker as the weather turned sour, and the day slowly came to an end. However, that quickly became the least of Y/n concerns. Her lips parted briefly, but she struggled to say anything. 

Simon let out a heavy exhale before reaching his hand into the pocket of his coat. He looked at Y/n and smiled. She still appeared adamant to deny his offer of making a donation to her father.

“Do you remember the story,” he began, “- of the first time we played in the maze at Lady Danbury’s home?”

Y/n chuckled, unsure whether he was serious or if the question were rhetorical. 

“Of course you do,” Simon continued, laughing all the while. “You recount it at every available opportunity.”

His laughter was disrupted by Y/n’s fist, gently colliding with his shoulder. 

“Please allow me to finish, Peach,” he cried as he rubbed his shoulder. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully but allowed him to continue nonetheless. “You recount it at every available opportunity, but you always failed to include the part of the story I favoured most.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in surprise. 

“After I found you in the maze- crying hysterically, I must add,” Simon quipped. As Y/n raised her hand to repeat her previous action, Simon caught her fist in his hand. Their eyes locked as he did so, and the tension between them grew this. Y/n lowered her hand coughed awkwardly, prompting Simon to continue. “I took you to see Lady Danbury’s fruit orchids.”

Simon’s smile grew remarkably wide. He had purposely refrained from retelling his favourite part of the maze story to Y/n. He was most excited to finally do so.

“You ran straight for one tree in particular,” Simon said. Y/n’s brows snapped together as she tried to remember. “I picked some fruit, and we ate it beneath that tree. However, you were still quite upset, and that was when I assured you I never would have left you behind... Do you remember which tree we sat beneath?”

After giving it a moment of thought, Y/n gasped quietly when she finally remembered. She looked back to Simon and smiled. In a quiet whisper, she answered his question.

“Peach.”

Simon nodded. It was after that day that he refrained from calling Y/n by her name. After they left Danbury’s orchids when he chose to instead call her ‘Peach’ to remind himself of that day on of his promise not to leave her behind. Despite falling short on that promise, Simon was determined to fulfil it.

He took a step towards Y/n and slowly replaced his grin to express both sincerity and fear. Y/n studied him in anticipation of what he was to say next. Simon seemed greatly troubled by something, she thought.

“If you wish to find another suitor next season,” Simon started, unable to hide the sorrow he felt at imagining it. He inhaled sharply and, in doing so, forced himself to remain composed. “I will do everything in my power to help you in your pursuits. Whether that be in the form of financial support or advice. Whatever it is you may need from me, Peach... my answer will always be yes.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, and her mouth curled into a frown. She could see right through Simon’s attempts to his sadness. 

“But if there is any chance,” he question, his tone frantic and desperate. He inched forward slightly and deepened his gaze at Y/n before he continued. “If there is even a fleeting chance that your feelings towards me are... are as they were before, then please tell me now.”

Just as he finished speaking, droplets of rain began to fall. They grew bigger and more rapid as time went on, but neither Simon nor Y/n noticed. Both were far too concerned with the affairs of their affections for one another. 

Y/n held her breath as she looked at Simon. Earlier that day, she decided to enter her third season. She had finally come to terms with knowing that casting aside her feeling for Simon would be her best method of moving forward. Yet as they stood in her mother’s garden, she found herself with no choice but to confront them.

“They are,” she confessed, her voice almost overpowered by the sound of the rainfall, though just loud enough for Simon to hear. “My feelings for you, they... they have not changed.

Her words were music to his ears. Simon reached his arm out and took hold of her hand. He felt his heartbeat rapidly against his chest. Despite the cold and wet weather, Simon felt a warm sensation in his chest.

“I must assure you,” he spoke, glancing down at the sight of her hand in his. “This is not a result of impulse or of the heat of the moment. Rather, this is something I have anticipated doing, I... I have desperately hoped to be able to do for quite some time.”

“Simon,” Y/n quavered. “W-What are you referring to?”

Simon looked up at the sky. He laughed as the heavy rain showered over his face, and then he turned back to Y/n. She did not move from where she stood but, instead, studied Simon closely. Her mouth fell agape when, without a moment’s notice, Simon knelt down.

Y/n gasped. There was a loud slushing sound made as Simon’s knee sunk into the mud. He was unfazed by it, which made Y/n shock only grow. He couldn’t be, she thought. It was not possible. And indeed, if he intended to do as she suspected, he would live to regret it. 

In a swift motion, she too fell her knee. Standing up while Simon knelt before she felt all too overwhelming. Y/n was confident he was not serious, despite him expressing profusely that he was. Simon’s eyes grew wide as he looked down and noticed the mud-splattered across the hem of Y/n’s gown.

“Peach, your dress-”

“Never mind my dress,” Y/n croaked. “Simon, what are you doing?”

“What I should have done two years ago,” he replied instantly. 

Y/n clasped her hand over her mouth. Her hair and her clothes were drenched from the rainfall, as was Simon’s, yet neither seemed to notice. He reached out and took hold of her free hand.

“I know I am the least bit deserving of your hand, as well as of course your forgiveness and your friendship,” Simon began. “However, these past years away from you, and these past two days in particular... They have been pure torment. And I have since realised that I would be a fool not to make an offer of marriage to you and hope that you would be so kind as to accept it, because... Well, because I love you, Peach. Fervently so.”

“What... What about your vow to never marry?” Y/n asked.

Indeed he had not thought this entirely through, she wondered. This was the moment, she believed. The moment he would take back his proposal.

“You said before that I have the luxury to choose while you do not,” Simon answered. Slowly, he let go of Y/n hand and lifted it to her face, holding the side of her cheek tenderly. “Well... I believe it’s due time that my choices begin constituting to my happiness... and that of the only woman I love.” 

Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes and began to trickle down her face as she wept. She felt it surreal, the fact that Simon was offering his hand to her. And as it appeared, she had run out of reasons to argue against it.

“I know I have caused you much suffering,” Simon sighed, rubbing his thumb gently across Y/n’s cheek, wiping her tears away while doing so. “But I am determined to spend the rest of my life atoning for it by doing everything in my power to ensure your happiness... That is if you will have me?”

Y/n thought of her mother’s advice earlier regarding how one’s words indicate one character and their intentions. She thought of how all her past suitors made proposals from a place of arrogance, how they all made the argument that their financial standing was reason enough for her accept.

That was not what mattered most to Y/n.

Love and happiness; that was what she sought most from marriage. After years of being told that to do so was naïve and pointless, Simon was offering precisely that. 

“Yes,” Y/n answered, laughing beneath her breath as she exhaled. She stood up and planted her feet firmly in the mud before reaching her hand down to help Simon do the same.

“Yes?” Simon repeated in disbelief. 

Y/n chuckled and helped him to stand, after which she reached her hands out and placed them on the sides of his face. Even in the pouring raid and even covered in mud from the waist down, he was still so beautiful, she thought. Simon precisely the same of her

“Yes! I... I will marry you,” Y/n declared, her smile growing wider as she spoke. She could not make that statement repeatedly when she would eventually share the news.

Simon wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He leaned closer to her slowly and kissed her sweetly. Y/n held the sides of his face firmly, pulling him even closer to her, causing him to smile against her lips. Shortly after, Simon slowly pulled away, leaving Y/n gasping for air.

“I am sorry it took me so long to do this, Peach,” he said softly, gazing apologetically at the woman he could finally address as his fiancee.

“It does not matter anymore, Simon,” Y/n replied, pressing her temple against his. 

He grinned before leaning in to kiss her once more. Y/n lowered her hands and left them placed against his coat’s lapels. She wished for the moment to last a lifetime. However, as the rain grew heavier and the sky grew darker, Simon pulled away again.

“Perhaps we should return,” Simon suggested, despite much enjoying being alone with Y/n. She immediately groaned at the thought of going back. “I imagine your mother will be quite cross if we miss dinner.”

“Simon... I have waited a very long time for this moment,” Y/n began. “I will not be rushed by you or my mama.”

Simon laughed before kissing her once again. 

When they finally walked back to the house, Simon continued to glance over at Y/n and at the sight of their hands intertwined. He thought of all the different ways things could have ended between them. 

What would have happened if she had accepted Mr Graham’s proposal or even that of her previous suitors? What would have happened if he did, in fact, marry Miss Bridgerton? What would have happened if he had just proposed to her when she first confessed her feelings to him? 

Simon wondered how many times things could have drastically been made different between them. He thought of how many choices, events and actions dictated whether they would ever be engaged.

And all he could do was smile at his beautiful fiancee and be completely and utterly grateful that this was how their story concluded.

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