#your home wasn’t even your home but because you thought you owed everyone else something

[cheesus-doodles]

A Twist in the Tale

Leona Kingscholar

Masterlist

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well that took a lot longer than I expected...glad for this to be done to completion though! merry christmas and happy holidays everybody, I hope you have a good time <3

Piercing, half-lidded green eyes watched you from across the bustling cafeteria, lion ears occasionally twitching as Leona picked up on your ongoing conservation with Ace. “....urgh I can’t believe there’s so much!” The red-haired whined, ruffling his hair in dismay as he dropped onto the table. “Crewel is a monster, I swear.”

“There is quite a bit,” came your rather sympathetic answer, unnecessarily kind if you asked Leona. “It will definitely take a while.”

On any other regular day, you, Grim and those two annoying Heartslabyul flies that you hung around were hardly worth his attention, let alone being eavesdropped on - mundane, brainless chatter that actively lowered his IQ with every passing minute. Crewel’s class wasn’t particularly difficult, not by a long stretch. Yet here he was. Clearly, today was as far from a regular day as possible. 

Because there had always been something off about you, Leona mused to himself, his tail whipping from side to side, observing with as much discretion as a predator stalking its prey as you took another bite from your sandwich, covering your full mouth with your free hand in an attempted politeness when Deuce’s crass remark had you chuckle. He had known as much since orientation, when you failed to be sorted by the Dark Mirror - there was just something fundamentally different about your smell compared to everyone else that couldn’t simply be chalked up to otherworldliness.

It’s just that he never bothered. You had been just another nobody, hardly worth his notice or time to investigate.

Up until his overblot incident, of course.

‎‎

A steaming plate of hamburger steak clankering down onto the table in front of Leona was enough to startle him out of his train of thoughts. “Leona, why ya glaring like they owe you money?” Ruggie quipped, thumbing in your general direction as he fell into the seat with a sigh, lazily lounging across and occupying the entire bench - not that anyone else dared to share. “Wait, do they actually owe you money?”

Despite it being well past peak-lunch hour, the cafeteria was still rather packed with students milling about, the cacophony of noises from loud and hushed conversations alike only adding to the growing headache Leona felt starting to pound from the depths of his mind. Far from his ideal environment of a quiet, peaceful area where he could nap undisturbed, the constant din was one of many reasons the Sunset Savannah’s second prince avoided this wretched place as much as going home.

And the rest of his dorm certainly took note of his unusual appearance in such a public area, whispering among themselves even as they kept a respectful distance, picking a careful semi-circle around the table where Leona and Ruggie sat - easy enough to ignore, really. They knew better than to prod where they weren’t welcomed, if not risk learning the hard way that their housewarden was lazy, not weak. 

Leona picked up his fork, stabbing it into the minced patty rather viciously, tearing his gaze away from you and down to the plate. The food looked especially unappetizing today. “He smells different.” The words slipped from his lips before the lion beastman could stop it, surprising both himself and Ruggie in the process, the sandy-brown haired boy whipping his head up to stare at him in disbelief. Right before said hyena thought it appropriate to dramatically turn to look at you, immediately earning him the prince’s ire.  There was no denying who Leona was referring to, but why did he have to be so obvious about it?

You, fortunately, did not notice. 

”The Ramshackle prefect?” Ruggie wondered aloud, nose tweaking, before turning back to face his housewarden. “I suppose so, given he’s from another world and all. What about it? If they don’t owe you money then it doesn’t really matter what they smell like.” A pause, the gears clearly turning behind the other’s blue-gray eyes, before he leaned forward, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, eyebrows wriggling. “Unless…”

He should have guessed where this was going. “Forget it.” 

“Come on Leona, I ain’t a blabber.”

“If you keep flapping your lips Ruggie, you’re about to find ‘em sewn shut.”

The hyena beastman simply smiled knowingly even as he threw his arms up in defeat, instead turning his attention to his feast of sandwiches.

Rubbing his forehead in annoyance, the rough texture of the glove dragging across his skin did not help in the slightest with his headache. Why was he bothering with this again? Whatever he could learn surely wasn’t going to be worth this amount of irritation.

But two weeks on from having you thrusted straight to the centre of his life and much to his dismay, Leona finds himself unable to get you out of his head, well after you seemed to have moved on rather easily. It’s not that he liked you (perish the thought). He just had to find out, Leona assured himself, and then he could put this whole fascination behind him and move on with his godforsaken life. He needed to know what made you different.

‎

He watched you stand, your empty tray in one hand, the other waving to the group. His ears stood up instantly, his attention returning to you. Were you going somewhere?

“... be heading out to the town, do you guys want anything?”

Town? A quick think, and he understands. Memorizing your group’s class schedule wasn’t difficult, and as a non-mage, you wouldn’t be able to attend any of the usual classes that your friends would have that involved magic. The first year Heartslabyuls were having flying class next, which meant that you weren’t attending. 

“Again?” Grim whined, slouching to rest his head on the table top. “How come you always get to go and have fun without me?”

Chuckling softly as you held your history textbooks to your chest, you shrugged. “I’m just going to pick up some supplies since I have a bit of free time.”

It seemed Ruggie had joined in on the eavesdropping. “Planning to follow him?” Said shameless hyena smirked, propping his two hands behind his head, though that move made him wince slightly; seems like Ruggie hadn’t yet fully recovered from the whole Spelldrive incident just yet. Serves him right though.

Leona scoffed, standing from the bench. He wasn’t hungry anymore. “I need a nap.” Stalking wasn’t quite his thing, and you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, given how your way home was literally dependent on that dirtbag of a school principal. He’ll solve this nagging puzzle at his own leisure. 

A look of alarm washed over Ruggie’s face. “Wait, Leona! Can I have your plate if you’re not eating it?”

‎

His opportunity came sooner than expected.

The sky above Savanaclaw Dorm had turned dark an hour ago, the moon hanging above the darkened desert illuminating the swirling sand blown along by a gentle breeze. Outside his closed room door, the dorm was still lively with activity, students mulling about the corridors discussing the recently past final exams and Spelldrive tournament or gathering by the waterfall in the lounge to enjoy some peace and quiet. 

Leona, however, was locked away inside his room, his brain still annoyingly fixated on you. He hadn’t been able to follow you out to town from NRC yesterday, not without having to answer some very uncomfortable questions about his motive. Tapping one nail rhythmically on the hard wood top of his desk, the second Sunset Savannah prince continued to think and brainstorm - not mull about like some lost little lover, mind you - all the possibilities to the mystery that was you. He had a few theories, a few ideas, but none of them fully made sense with all the information he currently had. 

Letting out a sigh, the man leaned back, running one hand through his mob of brown hair. He had to be missing something somewhere, a piece of the puzzle. Right then, as if on cue, as if there was some divinity out there who had decided to shine down on him, lion ears picked out an unusual stir of disgruntlement emulating from outside. Leona tried to ignore it, as he always does, but the commotion refused to die down even after a few minutes. So with great reluctance, he stood from his chair.

It was your begrudgingly familiar smell wafting through the otherwise still air that his sensitive nose instantly picked up the moment Leona opened his room door, quickly followed by your mob of hair amidst the rest of the beastmen that he spotted as he made his way over to the lounge. Well well well. “Of all the places to find you in,” he drawled out, his tail flickering behind him as the room fell silent, the murmurs quickly dying out in his presence. “Savanaclaw ain’t no place for herbivores.”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly. This clearly wasn’t your first choice.

Jack stepped forward, almost as if to shield you from the housewarden’s line of sight with his larger stature. “Leona, they-”

“We got kicked out of Ramshackle!” Grim wailed out, clutching onto your leg, the purple anemone sticking out grey fur a dead giveaway to the lead up to this conundrum.

“Not a chance,” Leona drawled out, crossing his arms even as his mind whirled behind those half-lidded green eyes. This was it: his chance.

You had always lived alone - or rather with Grim, though the fiery racoon hardly counted as a proper roommate - at Ramshackle Dorm since your arrival in Twisted Wonderland. Out of reach from him and any potential other students that Leona could have intimidated for information. But now, it seems you made a deal with that cephalo-punk Azul Ashengrottel, and Jack had delivered you directly to him like a good little puppy, unknowingly helping you straight right into his grasp.

The white-haired beastman blinked. “You didn’t even pause before answering…”

“No pets allowed in the dorm,” the Sunset Savannah prince shrugged. “They shed all over the place.” He hadn’t quite figured out where he could put you up temporarily (three days was more than enough for him to solve his little vexing puzzle, hell he’ll take one day and hopefully kick the two of you out by tomorrow evening). 

Leona couldn’t roll over so easily, no matter how much the pit in his gut yearned for it. He had to at least put up a decent fight in front of his dorm’s students, and most of all, Ruggie. He’ll never live this down otherwise.

‎

Okay, so perhaps you sharing his room wasn’t ideal, nor was it really part of his spontaneous plan. But what was done was done. It’s temporary anyway.

Your footsteps, light as a fae’s, were easy enough to pick up against the otherwise silent dorm. Picking your way carefully through the dark room, you made your way out, the room door clicking shut behind you and blocking out the little light that poured in momentarily from the dim corridor. If you had been the slightest bit more observant, you might have noticed Leona’s green eyes sliding open to watch you, lion ears twitching as they followed the ambient sound of your rustling clothes. 

It was the middle of the night, way past his usual bedtime - and it should be way past yours as well. Grim was fast asleep on the spare bedding at the foot of his bed. Very telling that you didn’t take your little minion with you.

Waiting for a few more seconds, the lion beastman carelessly tossed off his blankets, following you out of his room. And your telltale smell led him past closed doors and loud snores that echoing down empty hallways, straight towards the bathroom. 

Interesting. Time to find out what you were hiding.

‎

‎

You hummed a light tune under your breath, allowing the warm water to run over your body. You had expected Savanaclaw Dorm to be different from what you were used to, with the sneakpeek you’ve gotten before the Spelldrive tournament hinting that it was different enough from the life you knew back at Ramshackle, but you had to admit to yourself you hadn’t expected it to be this different. Imagine your surprise upon realizing that there was only one communal bathroom - and only learning that fact as you entered. You hoped no one noticed how fast you turned and left.

Shaking your head, you focused on rinsing off the shampoo from your hair, the stall walls though open at the back at least giving some privacy from the side. The water splashing down onto the tile from the showerhead echoed through the otherwise empty room; exactly as you had planned. It was only at this time of night that you would be able to get any semblance of privacy, and you silently pledged to yourself to never take Ramshackle Dorm’s silence for granted again.

You scrubbed down, trying to shake the thought of losing Ramshackle to Azul out of your head. You would do everything to make sure that didn’t happen, and you weren’t going to forgive Grim, Ace or Deuce that easily for all this mess they got you in.

Lost in the what-ifs, you failed to notice the patter of footsteps entering the shower room, right up till a deep voice piped up from behind you.

“So that’s why you don’t smell like the others.”

You froze.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the water cascading down your body and your very obviously female chest. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t dare to breathe, racing to think.

Fuck.

In a snap, you screamed, picking up the nearest object and hurling it straight at the intruder without looking, your other hand immediately reaching for the towel you had hung over the stall wall. The shampoo bottle was narrowly dodged, bouncing off the wall behind him and clanking to the floor. “W-what the fuck- get out!” You squeezed your eyes shut, your face beet red as you grabbed another bottle, throwing it with all the strength you had. Someone saw you. Some guy’s seen you. You should have been more careful, maybe you shouldn’t have showered at all, maybe you have-

“Shut it!” One large hand was quickly slapped over your mouth, the other grabbing your hand and stopping you from flinging your third munition. “Do you want the entire dorm to wake? Just breathe, dammit.”

You shook off his hand, moving to secure your towel around you before you took a deep breath, looking up to see who had walked in on you. 

Leona Kingscholar, the Savanaclaw Housewarden himself, looking mighty amused at the revelation that you were, in fact, of the opposite gender. A red-faced lady in the house of men.

“Does that crow know?”

“Crowley? Of course he does,” you snapped, clutching the towel wrapped around you tightly. “Now can you get out?”

The lion beastman only leaned onto the stall door, crossing his arms. “So how have you been hiding that all this time?” He drawled, pointing at your chest with his chin. You picked up another bottle threateningly, and Leona immediately raised both hands in surrender, taking a step back and behind the stall door.

“Peace,” he drawled. “I’m just here for answers.”

“And I’m here to bathe,” you barked back. “Chest binding is what I do, now out.”

The chuckle as the second prince strolled out reverberated through the still bathroom. You groaned, sinking to a squat and hiding your face in your hands. You were never going to live this down now, were you?

[tekka-dan]

Hello,

I realize that I haven’t really been “here” for roughly an entire year now. My last “me” post was right before coming into 2024.

In light of the recent election as of 2024–I was starkly reminded of my descent into madness, anger, bitterness and concern from the year 2016. I was still living at home with my parents, single and no kids. I thought the world as I knew it was coming to an end and I thought everyone I knew who voted for Trump weee backstabbing, bold faced liars; most of these people were my friends and it was disheartening to believe that if they supported someone like him but were playing cool to my face, who could I trust and believe in after all?

I disappeared from then and I found solace in the Naruto fandom, the only place I was able to quell my anger and hurt from the world and reality I was apart of. I will never take for granted the people I met during this time, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it for eternity: they saved my life.

Fast forward to 2024 and I am still single and living alone but this time it’s been 3 years since moving out and life is less hectic and different…but it’s better.

Most people don’t know that I entered into a relationship in August 2023 that was rushed and misaligned with everything I wanted and valued but I became desperate for partnership, acceptance and value. So I settled with someone who went on to teach me great lessons, mainly that you shouldn’t rush connections for anyone or any reason. I finally departed from that relationship as of September 2024 and slowly my world has come back into full bloom again, I’m not seeing everything in gray scale or feeling like an outsider looking in. I’m apart of my own life. I became my own main character.

That said, I also have been stable with my career for over a year now and this has allowed me to have fun money and take vacations! I recently visited Washington DC on a whim and I just so happened to be there before and after the US Election of 2024. Despite the bustling of the world on tv news and social medias; the home of where the President resides is actually fairly quaint and quiet. Many people didn’t voice their concerns or opinions about the election, many of them seemed to understand that this is just how the world works and we will have to fall in line. All that being said, I learned plenty about myself while on this trip and about life in general.

Having emotional intelligence will always save your life. No matter what situations you face or endure, even overcome, staying sharp and remaining emotionally adept is key. Nobody stormed the White House nor the Capital. People just slung their briefcases from one shoulder to the next and stood in line for the next approaching metro.

Life really does go on.

I wanted to share some pictures I had taken while on my 4 day vacation. I like these the most because the rest are pictures of the museums I went to, lol. However these are the only pictures I’ve taken of myself since January 2024.

Being in that rotten relationship really took so much out of me, it took away my light and my enthusiasm for the world and everything around me. I wasn’t taking pictures of myself or anyone else; I was just existing from one day to the next.

To see these photos and my sheer happiness and I can actively say I AM happy with my life and the way it’s going currently—feels like a milestone I actually want to commemorate, so I’m sharing them.

As this year comes to an end, please stay safe and golden. The election was sorely disappointing for a country as a whole but nonetheless we will persevere. We always have. Thanks for reading!

[seokgyuu]

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?” 

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

don't want to move on

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.

Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.

But he couldn’t get out of this one.

And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.

He hasn’t quite decided yet.

“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.

Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.

Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.

“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.

The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.

Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.

No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.

“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”

Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.

“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”

“Oh.”

Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-

“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.

“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”

“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”

“And how would you know?”

Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.

“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”

Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.

“Right. That’s true. I guess.”

And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.

“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.

“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”

Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.

Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“I’ve been fine.”

Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.

“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”

“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”

Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.

“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”

“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

Steve thinks he might pass out.

He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?

He feels like he’s going crazy.

“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.

“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”

“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”

Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.

That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.

“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”

“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.

“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”

“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”

Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?

“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”

“To go less than a mile?”

“Or I could walk you.”

“And then walk back alone?”

“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”

It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.

No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”

“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”

It’s a knife to his chest.

Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.

”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”

He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.

Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.

He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.

He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.

“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.

He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?

“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”

“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”

Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.

Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.

He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.

He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.

Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.

They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.

So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.

“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”

Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.

“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”

Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.

Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.

“I don’t know.”

It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.

“Why say it now?”

“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”

Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.

“I don’t want to move on.”

Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.

It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.

But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.

“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.

“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.

Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.

Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?”

“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”

Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.

They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.

He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.

“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”

Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.

“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”

Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.

“Me either. ‘S okay.”

Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.

Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.

That thought is what sends him over the edge.

He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.

But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.

After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.

“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.

“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.

“You remembered that?”

“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.

He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine thinking Vernon hates you because he never talks to you but it's actually because he likes you and loses the ability to speak around you

You were known for being pretty loud and outgoing. Your role in your group was the confident performer and you always brought it on any stage or variety show. You'd met Vernon several times through Dino. The two of you were friends from the same home town. You even knew each pre-debut and somehow made it into the same company. So you saw one another a lot and through Dino, the Seventeen members. You loved all of Dino's hyungs but found Vernon the most surprising. Dino warned you Vernon, The8, Wonwoo, Woozi and Jun could take a little while to feel comfortable around people but the others had all been nice and made the effort with you. You'd made the effort with them back and now had their friendship. The8 would chat to you happily, Wonwoo would would play games with you, Woozi showed you how to make music and Jun...well it took about a week before Jun revealed his crackhead self to you which you took to be a token of his friendship. But Vernon was the only one you hadn't made any progress with. He was the only one where, if left alone it was awkward which was hard considering how talkative you were. Which was another thing that confused you. You had a similar personality to Seungkwan, Vernon's best friend, so you didn't get why this part of yourself was such a problem. You'd never mentioned it to Dino because you were sensitive about people not liking you. You knew it was a fact of life but were still insecure about it so you pretended everything was fine and that there wasn't this cold wall between the two of you.

Vernon experienced things a little differently. When he first saw you he found you attractive which was odd because he never really noticed those things about people on the first meeting. It usually took a while for him to feel attraction to people but with you, he'd noticed it instantly. That made him nervous and so he became awkward around you. He figured the best thing to do was just remain quiet around you. He noticed you trying to make an effort with him but you were too quick. Every time he'd finally thought of an appropriate response you'd have moved on to someone else. You found socialising so much easier than him and the two of you were just so different! The more he thought about how incompatible you both were the more he tried to hide his crush but it didn't stop it from growing. He liked your personality despite how different it was from his own. So much so he was now scared if he ever opened his mouth around you it'd all spill out. So he just pretended like he didn't even notice when you walked into a room when in reality you caught his attention immediately.

Vernon wasn't the most focused person, his mind had a habit of wandering and when you were there it got even worse. You'd come over for a movie night and Vernon's head was filled with a million questions as everyone debated what film to watch. Had your hair grown since last time? Or maybe it was extensions. Did you wear extensions? He wondered how you got your hair so shiny and if it was as soft as it looked when he realised people were talking to him. "Vernon" Seungkwan called snapping Vernon back into the room. "what?" he asked and Seungkwan laughed "what is wrong with you lately? You've always got your head in the clouds". Hoshi and Dino both laughed awkwardly and you were smiling. "Sorry...I'm just tired. What happened?". "Y/n just asked you a question". "She did? Ow what was it?" he asked turning to you but you shook your head "it doesn't matter". You smiled but Vernon noted the cold tone in your voice and hoped he hadn't upset you. Not wanting to do anything else wrong he stayed quiet the rest of the night and tried not to look in your direction. You stayed over as the movie finished late and crashed in Dino's room like normal. However you were unusually quiet and Dino knew something was wrong. "Y/n are you okay?" Dino asked. Never one to hide your feelings you shook your head "why does Vernon hate me?". "Awww come on he just didn't hear you". "No it wasn't just today! Every time I'm around Vernon checks out. He never takes up my offers to meet up, even when I check his availability with Seungkwan beforehand! The number of times I've tried to draw him into conversations just to get a nod or one-word answer. Whenever I greet him and ask how he is I just get a "good" and he never asks "how are you?" back. He just clearly cannot be bothered with me, I don't even think it's a dislike because that would imply he cares enough to develop emotions about me! He just has utter contempt for me and I have no idea why!" you cried. Dino placed his hands on your shoulders "hey breathe okay... it's okay". "But is not" you sighed and sobbed. Seungkwan and Vernon were in the room next door and while they hadn't heard a word of what you'd said they did hear raised voices and then crying. "Should you check on them?" Vernon asked and Seungkwan sighed but went to go see if you were okay. Vernon carried on as normal and had a shower before going downstairs to get a snack. Dino was there and Vernon remembered you immediately. "Hey is Y/n okay?" Vernon asked. Dino glanced at him before looking down "yeah she's fine". "Well that was convincing" Vernon tried to joke but Dino wasn't in the mood. "Well what do you want me to say Vernon? It's not like you care about her". Vernon was very shocked by Dino's anger and had no idea where this was coming from. "Who says that I don't care about her?" he asked. Dino rolled his eyes "please! She called your name three times earlier but you didn't even bother to respond. You know I never said you had to be best friends with her but I did think you'd be polite to her. That you'd try and make her feel welcome. I didn't think you'd be the one to be rude to her and make her feel like crap". Vernon froze "I never meant to! Is she okay? Should I apologise?". "No I think you'll only make things worse" Dino replied "I've lost my appetite" and he walked away leaving his food untouched. Vernon was beside himself but he has absolutely no idea what to do.  So he did what he always did in these situations...he consulted Boo Seungkwan. "See Y/n thinks I hate her" Vernon started and then paused waiting for a reaction. Seungkwan just stared at him "and?" he asked unsure why Vernon had stopped. Vernon paused "well that's bad!". "Because she knows?" Seungkwan asked and Vernon shook his head "because I don't hate her!". Seungkwan narrowed his eyes "really? Because you never listen when she's talking, you avoid her whenever she's around and you seem pained if she so much as sits at the same table as you". Vernon groaned "none of that is because I hate her! It's the opposite!". Seungkwan laughed before he saw Vernon's expression "wait you...". "I like her!" Vernon cried "and apparently I have the very worst way of showing it". Seungkwan nodded "yeah you were giving hard the opposite direction...erm okay. So why haven't you been talking to her if you like her or even just giving her your attention?". "I've tried but I freeze around her! Anytime she talks to me my mind goes blank and when she's around I'm too busy thinking about her that I miss her actually speaking to me. Like earlier today, I'm fairly sure I was wondering what colour I'd call her hair when she was talking to me". Seungkwan raised an eyebrow "wow okay we've got a lot of work to do!". Seungkwan decided the best thing to do with a newbie socialiser like Vernon was to ease him into it gently. So the first task was greetings. You'd been avoiding the Seventeen house after your last visit but Dino soon caught onto that and pretty much forced you to come over. You knocked on the door hoping Vernon would be out, when who opened the door but Vernon himself. You were prepared for a blank stare and nod but he actually looked at you and nodded "hey Y/n. Dino's up in his room". He'd never greeted you before and you weren't sure if he'd ever said your name. "He is?" you asked unsure of everything and Vernon nodded "yeah, would you like to come in?". You realised you were still standing on the doorstep in shock. "Thanks" you nodded and stepped inside. Vernon actually closed the door behind you and nodded "bye Y/n" before walking back into the kitchen. You stood there for a few seconds in shock before going to find Dino. Seungkwan had been watching the whole thing from the kitchen and cheered the second you went upstairs. "That was perfect Vernon and inviting her in was a wonderful piece of adlib". "Well she wasn't moving and I wasn't sure what to do but knew I should say something, so I went for it" he said proudly. Seungkwan nodded "excellent, now practice that and then it's time for phase 2. Casual engagement. You started feeling welcome once again in the Seventeen house. You weren't sure if Dino had said something but now Vernon said hello or goodbye every time he saw you. He looked you in the eye when he said it and even smiled. You were overjoyed at something so simple and so when Dino invited you to pizza night you agreed. All the guys were there when you arrived and they called out greetings to you, Vernon included. You ended up sat a few places down from him and when you joined in a conversation he was having with Mingyu he didn't check out. Mingyu was arguing that this restaurant downtown did the best chicken but Vernon said it was this one around the corner. "The one downtown is cheaper but the one up here is so much better" you said and Vernon smiled "see! Y/n gets it". Just something as small as him acknowledging your opinion made you smile. "But I will admit the one downtown has more tables making it easier to get into" you relented and Vernon nodded "I respect that" making you grin even more. Vernon kept being nice all night and you noticed. "Has something happened to Vernon?" you asked Dino when Vernon had stepped away. He frowned "no, why?". "He just seems so much happier and talkative". Dino shrugged "he's usually like this all the time when we're all together...he must just feel comfortable around you". That made you beam with pride and Dino smiled to see how happy that made you. After you left Dino went into the kitchen for some water and bumped into Vernon. Vernon nodded to him and they chatted for a while before Dino said what was on his mind. "I don't know what happened or if anything I said got through but thanks" Dino said "Y/n really appreciates the effort you're making and I appreciate it too". Vernon shrugged "you were right I wasn't making her feel welcome. I'm glad she noticed the change. She's always welcome here of course and I like her". Dino smiled "I'm so telling her that!" and rushed away so quickly he missed the blush on Vernon's face. Phase three was purposeful engagement. This involved Vernon actually initiating a conversation with you and asking you a question. It was definitely the most difficult stage and he was pretty nervous. Luckily it was taking place at a party and parties always made him nervous so it didn't change much in that respect. When you arrived Vernon immediately felt a little flustered because you looked so good but Seungkwan told him to be strong. So Vernon got a seat next to you at the table and kept his eye open for opportunities. Vernon had purposefully waited for you to finish your drink for the past 30 minutes and finally when you drank the last few drops he downed his. "I'm going to get a new drink, would anyone like one?" he asked and looked at you. He saw you glance at your now empty glass but you didn't say anything. "Y/n?" he asked and you blinked looking up at him. A smile came onto your face and you nodded "I'd love one but are you sure you don't mind?". Vernon smiled back "of course not" and took your glass. You watched him go and got a tingly feeling in your stomach. When Vernon returned he gave you the drink and you thanked him. Conversations carried on around you and you laughed at an argument Seungkwan and Hoshi were having when Vernon caught your eye. "So Y/n how's swimming been?" Vernon asked. You paused "what?". Vernon immediately panicked thinking he'd gotten it wrong. "You joined a new swimming team right? I thought you mentioned it last week". You nodded "I...yeah I did, it's been good thanks. Well okay I guess, there was some drama". "What happened?" Vernon asked and you weren't sure if he was messing with you. "You don't want me to bore you with it..." you said but Vernon shook his head "no I'd love to know. I was never sporty enough to join a club so I want to know all the drama. Every last piece of it". You smiled and told him all about it. By the time you finished your story the party was well and truly in the swing of things and you and Vernon were the only two people still sitting at the table. All the others had wandered off or congregated elsewhere. So when Vernon asked if you wanted another drink you went with him. You manoeuvred your way to the kitchen and laughed at Vernon's grimace when a guy nearly bumped into him with a full drink. Finally you got to the kitchen and Vernon passed you a drink. You headed back to the table chatting about the party when you saw what had happened. "And our seats are gone..." Vernon commented and you laughed "typical". Vernon didn't seem like he wanted to rush off and as you suddenly got a waft of fresh air an idea came to you "wanna head outside? It's getting really crowded in here". Vernon nodded "sure" and followed you out of the sea of people. Some of the other members were outside and they spotted you immediately. You and Vernon pulled up chairs near them so you could hear the conversation but also slightly apart. You laughed along with the group as Dk began teasing Joshua and Vernon told you they were always like this. You smiled at how comfortable he was around you and took a breath. "I just wanted to say thanks" and Vernon smiled feeling the buzz of the alcohol "for what?". "For not hating me anymore!" you laughed and Vernon shook his head "I never hated you Y/n" but you just smiled sadly. "It's okay Vernon, I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea. I'm loud, dramatic and emotional which is literally the worst combination I can think of...but I promise I'm working on it and it means a lot that you've given me a chance". Vernon shook his head "I don't think any of those things about you. I like how fun and extroverted you are". You shook your head not believing him and it suddenly became very important for Vernon to convince you he was telling the truth. "It's true! You're so friendly and kind to everyone it's really admirable. I wish I could be more like that and I think it's one of the best qualities a person can have. I never disliked you and actually really admire you". You frowned "but if all of that is true...why did you never talk to me?". You looked so vulnerable and curious Vernon didn't even hesitate. "Because I like you Y/n and have this whole time". "Like me as in..." you started and Vernon nodded "as in I think you're amazing Y/n. You're so smart and funny at the same time, the way your brain works so quickly always impresses me. Not to mention how you're also so beautiful, half the time you thought I was ignoring you I was probably just processing how good you looked that day. I'm introverted but I admire your extroversion and how brave you are. You're fearless Y/n and I could truly never hate you" Vernon finished. You blinked and for once were lost for words. "I...had no idea and I don't know what to say". Vernon shook his head "you don't have to say anything". He knew he should probably be feeling nervous he just confessed to you but he didn't. He just looked around the garden gently tapping his glass, enjoying the night sky. "So...you like me?" you asked eventually and Vernon "yes". "So do you plan to do anything about it?" you asked. What you meant was, did Vernon want to date you, what Vernon heard was "are you going to kiss me". So he leaned in and although you were surprised there was no way you were going to turn this down, so you kissed him. You'd forgotten the group of friends sat a few meters away but they didn't forget you. "Vernon? Y/n?" Seungkwan gasped unable to stop himself. You both broke apart blushing as everyone looked over and their jaws dropped. "Woah you just skipped like 3 stages and went straight to stage 8, become intimate" Seungkwan carried on. "Stage what?" you asked and Vernon blushed "Seungkwan was coaching me to talk to you". You smiled "really? That's so sweet" and hugged him. The boys found it so adorable and funny how Vernon went bright red but he melted into your embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and hid his face in your hair. When the boys had teased him enough you took his arm and led him away from the group. Vernon was still blushing but he had a huge smile on his face. You smiled "so that kiss was nice". "Yeah it was" Vernon said chuckling. "Would you maybe like to do it again on a date?". Vernon nodded "absolutely! We can go right now if you want". You chuckled "why don't we enjoy the rest of the party and save that for another day? There's no rush". Vernon nodded "of course of course" and you led him back to the group. They all smirked and teased you again but neither of you really cared. You sat together arms around one another and just enjoyed the night. Boo Seungkwan's 8-stage plan was very effective.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

[vxntagedior]

if i ever talk to you that way

summary | remus is concerned about the reaction you gave to him after he pulled a prank on you, based on this tiktok

pairing | dealer!remus lupin x fem!reader

warning | angst, fluff, grumpy/sunshine, mentions of slapping

word count | 1.0k

Profanities weren’t anything new to Remus, they had been integrated into his vocabulary since he could remember. Along with that, hearing him swear wasn’t anything new to you, you heard it constantly when he talked to people who came to buy from him. 

But that tough personal, would wash away whenever he was around you. The brute dealer who turns into mush when he’s around you. Remus liked to keep you and the rest of his world separate, he didn’t want you around all the stuff he did, and made a promise to himself that he would never talk to you the way he would talk to the deadbeats who came to buy. 

James and Sirius made fun of him constantly, saying that he was just puddy whenever you were around. And each time, he’d curse them out saying they would be the same if they had someone like you in their life.

He couldn’t taint someone like you when his profession, constantly Remus thought if you were truly right in the mind being with him, and though hearing you reassure him endlessly, making sure you told him ‘I love you’ at least once a day, Remus still couldn’t believe what he ever did to deserve you. 

Remus lavished you, made sure you had everything you wanted and more, because he was happy when you were happy. 

-

“Fuck off!” Remus swore at his best friend (even though you were his actual best friend). “I’m not doing that to her.”

James and Sirius had met you a handful of times and they could tell how sweet Remus was on you, and after seeing how Remus acts around everyone else, they wanted to do a little test. 

Sirius was the first to think of it. He remembered how you liked making dinner for Remus when he came home. Remus never asked, never requested anything, just eating whatever you made because he hadn't had a home cooked meal in a long time. 

James had practically set up the whole situation, when he came home, calling you a bitch, while asking you what's for dinner. Remus stared in horror at his friends, he couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t call any bad name. Both boys were even shocked when Remus agreed, though they now owe Remus something in the future. 

Driving home that night, Remus contemplated actually going through with it. He loved you and could never do that to you, but he truly wanted to see how you would react to him. 

Pulling into the driveway, turning the engine off, Remus’s hands were still on the steering wheel. Seeing the curtains open, letting him look through the window, seeing you in the kitchen, moving around the kitchen, prepping for dinner. 

“She’s tough.” He muttered to himself, Remus taught you to make sure to stand up for yourself, making sure you don’t take shit from anyone. “She’ll put me in my place.”

Hearing the door open, and the footsteps coming closer and closer, just as you were about to speak, Remus beat you to it.

“Bitch, what’s for dinner?” Remus was already wincing at his tone. 

Your eyes widened, turning away from the stove to face him. Remus watched the hopeful glimmer in your eye fade away, your entire face fallen. Composing yourself together, not wanting to cry in front of him, you answered meekly. 

“Grilled cheese.” It came out as a whisper, letting the air travel your words. 

Just for a split second, Remus looked at you before his eyes softened. You had looked scared of him, your body was shielding itself from him. 

“If I ever.” Remus started, trying not to have his voice waver, he felt terrible in that moment, not being the person he promised you would be, because right now, you looked scared of him. “Ever, talk to you that way, you smack me right across the face.”

Your eyes finally shifted to his, hearing the sincere voice in his voice, the pleading look in his eyes, just wanting to say something to him. 

“Okay?” He finished, still not hearing a word from you, scared to death that you’d just leave him in the kitchen alone. 

“Okay.” You answered, still in that soft voice, like you were scared to raise your voice any louder. 

Remus strided across the kitchen, coming up to you, pulling you into him. Tightly wrapping his arms around you, your face pressed against his chest. Finally feeling you wrap your arms around him, he let out a deep breath, one that he didn’t know what he was holding. 

Pulling away from you, bringing his hand up to your face, thumb tucked under your jaw, the rest of his hand resting against your cheek, caressing your skin softly. 

“Do it.” He whispered. You looked back up at him confused, “Smack me.”

“Rem I can’t do that.” You shook your head rapidly, “It’s okay, I understand but-”

“Please.” He closed his eyes, “For a split second, you looked scare of me, I never want to make you scared of me again.”

You never answered, Remus closing his eyes awaiting his fate. Feeling a small brush against his cheek, he peeked open his eyes, “You practicing?”

He tried to lighten up the situation.

“I did it, I slapped you.” You answered. 

“Love, you brushed your fingers against my cheek.” He closed his eyes, a grin forming on his lips. 

“That was.” You protested, not wanting to argue, he just agreed, finally unwrapping his around you. 

“You okay dove?” He asked, not wanting to leave the situation with unanswered questions, “You know I’d never intentionally wanted to do that to you, James and Sirius thought of the idea.”

“Seems like them.” You hummed, turning back flipping your grilled cheese, smiling at the little charred pieces. 

Coming up behind you, Remus rested his chin on your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Do I still get dinner?” 

Twisting your head to the side, he looked like a puppy who had been caught clawing at the couch. 

“Of course.” You pressed a kiss to his chin, “Can never stay mad at you.”

fin.

[vodika-vibes]

Awesome job on hitting 800 you deserve it! I love the fall theme, my birthdays in the fall! Could you do Pumpkin Spice with Alpha-17 pls?¿ maybe on the premise of going out for a few drinks at the bar which turns into a few more than intended liquid courages and things get spicy (lol) which turns to an unregretful, unashamed oopsie daisy morning for the two of you?

Pumpkin Spice

Summary: A night at the bar between two friends becomes something more.

Word Count: 985

Prompt: Pumpkin Spice

Warnings: Implications of drunk sex, but no details

A/N: Thank you! And thank you for your request! I hope you like this one! I'm also going to preface this with I don't drink because of medicine I'm on, so I'm kinda flying blind here.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Are you drunk already?” Alpha-17 grins at the smaller woman sitting next to him, her head is resting on the table and her glass is still half full, “You didn’t even finish one drink.”  It wasn’t even a lot of alcohol, Alpha is pretty sure that Pumpkin Spice Ale is more sugar than anything else.

“Kriff you,” The table muffles her voice, and Alpha doesn’t bother hiding his amusement. She already knows his personality, after all.

“I can’t believe that you asked to come drinking with me and you didn’t even finish one drink,” Alpha replies with a grin on his face, “You need to get out and drink more, little lady.”

“Ugh.” She finally lifts her head and glares at him, her face is flushed from the drink and Alpha chokes back a laugh with difficulty, “Little lady? Really?”

“Well, you’re little. And you’re a lady. So the title fits.”

“Everyone is little compared to you,” She grouses, “So sorry I’m not built like a karking tank.”

Alpha lifts his bottle to his lips, “Hm, skill issue.”

She glares at him again, and then lowers her head to the table again, “You’re obnoxious.”

“And here I was going to offer to walk you home.”

She turns her head so she’s able to look at him, “What’s the catch?”

“You have to make me caf.”

“Ugh. Just leave me in a ditch somewhere. It’s where I belong.”

Alpha rolls his eyes and finishes his bottle before he sets it on the table next to her head, “You’re so dramatic.” He stands and presses a hand between her shoulder blades, “Alright, pretty girl. On your feet.”

She groans but sits up and peers up at him, “Will you carry me?”

“If I carry you, you’ll have to pay me in something sweet.”

“Deal.” She holds her arms out and Alpha rolls his eyes before he turns around and allows her to hop up on his back. She buries her face in his neck, “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you live close.”

Luckily, she really does live close by. It’s not even a ten-minute walk from the bar to her apartment, though the walk is long enough that she falls asleep on his shoulder.

Alpha has to nudge her awake as he arrives at the apartment complex, and she digs a key out of her pocket and drops it in his hand. “What am I, your butler?” He grumbles under his breath, though he does unlock the apartment door and steps into the cozy apartment.

He unceremoniously drops her to her feet and then shuts the door behind him.

“Rude,”

“You owe me caf and snacks.” Alpha pauses, “And you need some water and snacks too.”

She huffs, “I’m not that drunk.”

“Sure, you aren’t. Do me a favor, stand on one foot and press your finger to your nose—”

She sputters indignantly, “What are you, a cop?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I should kick you out without caf,” She threatens, her eyes narrowed, but even as she says that she’s heading into the kitchen to start the machine. 

“Don’t forget to drink some water,” Alpha says as he walks into the kitchen after her and drops onto one of her stools.

“Yes, Mother,”

Alpha watches as she does as he instructs, and a small smirk crosses his face, “So it looks like you can be obedient when you feel like it.” She pauses for a moment, and then she makes a face and continues sipping her water.

As soon as the cup is empty though she crosses her arms and glares at him, “I’m not obedient.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m always in control.”

“Oh, naturally.”

Her scowl is more of a pout, “I was going to drink water anyway, even if you didn’t say anything.”

“If you say so.”

She points at him dramatically, “You’re very annoying!”

“Thanks, it’s my superpower.”

“And-and-and,” She stumbles over her words, “You need to stop talking.”

Alpha tilts his head, a small smirk crossing his face, “Make me.”

Her lips crash against his, and he tugs her so that she’s straddling his lap as he deepens the kiss. She tastes like pumpkin spice, and despite her insistence that she’s always in control, she surrenders to him as soon as his tongue slides against hers.

Her nails scrape against his scalp and Alpha groans. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to her jaw, “How drunk are you?” He won’t go any further if she’s still as drunk as she was at the bar.

“I’m sober enough,” She counters stubbornly, catching his lips with hers and dragging her hands down his chest.

And, well, who is he to argue with that?

The following morning, Alpha wakes up with the sun. His pretty girl is tucked against his side, sleeping peacefully. Though she is covered in bruises from how tightly he held her last night, and from his teeth, she doesn’t seem bothered by it.

Alpha considers her for a moment. Does he have any regrets about last night? Honestly, no. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

She stirs against him and releases a whine of dismay, and then peeks up at him, “Alpha,”

“Hm?”

“Will you make me caf?”

A startled laugh falls from his lips, “I’m a guest in your home, you’re supposed to feed me.”

She whines again, and Alpha lightly drags his fingers down her spine, making her shiver and press closer to him.

“Hm, any regrets, pretty girl.”

“Regrets are for other people,” She replies immediately, and then she flushes, “Jumping you was always the eventual plan, I just needed some additional courage.”

“Good to know.” Alpha tugs on a strand of her hair, “So, caf and food, and then round two?”

“I think it’s technically round four.”

“Details, details,” Alpha leans down and kisses her, “Get up, pretty girl. It’s time to start the day.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

[coeurify]

hear me out…. bumping into ellie wasted at a nightclub dancing makin out then she recognises u irl a week or smth later n it is on!!!!!!

ok.. this took a turn to be more post makeout fluffy loser ellie so.. yea!

Ellie was not someone who made out with girls in clubs, drunk off of whiskey she only ordered to try and show off to Jesse and Dina. Sure, she saw it happen— it was normal. But no, Ellie definitely did not.

Ellie never called herself a pussy, she would never admit that. But Jesse had no problem snickering it whenever her freckled cheeks were painted red after a girl looked at her at a bar or club. She didn’t usually do anything about it. Hell, the last time Ellie got laid it was because a girl had straight up asked her. Ellie just was not the best at all that.. seduction shit.

Nor was she good with no strings attached shit. That one-off hookup turned into a situationship that she couldn’t let go of. Ellie also had a tendency to pine over the most minor interactions with people. Once, a barista handed her a straw and after their fingers touched, she convinced herself it was the love of her life for the next week. So.. one night stands or messy kisses in the dim lights of clubs were not exactly her thing.

Except for once. Last Saturday, 12:07 am. Not that she had memorized it or anything. Totally not. She definitely had not scorched the night’s memory (of her hands against hips, lips that tasted like the cranberry juice mixer against her own, soft hands pulling her bun out to run fingers through it) into her brain. No way.

What Ellie will admit she remembers was the embarrassment that singed the baby hairs on the back of her neck as Dina slapped an arm on her back, the three drunk young adults clambering out of the tightly packed club close to 1 am. “I knew you had it in you! You totally rocked that girl’s world. Jesse, you owe me five bucks.” Then Dina had stuck an expectant hand out to Jesse, causing a short offended gasp from Ellie. “You made a bet on me?”

They did. Ellie’s own best friends had no faith in her ability to have quick and fun hookups like everyone else their age. But she had proved them wrong! She had made out with a really, really pretty girl.. no strings attached.

She didn’t even know your name. Not that she had to. You were both all too happy to skip the pleasantries and get straight to having your hands on each other. It wasn’t like she was wondering what your name was, and if she could find you somewhere on social media the entire walk home that night.

Definitely not. She convinced herself of this every day since then. Every time she saw a flash of hair that looked like yours around, or when her brain went a little haywire, and she came back to the messy sketch of your eyes on her notebook.

Within the week, Ellie had forced herself to get a grip. It was just some random making out, for fucks sake. She had no reason to daydream about how you had keened into her when she bit at your bottom lip. No right to be squeezing her eyes shut to remember how it felt to have your hand slip up the loose material of her shirt, heated touches against her stomach.

No, those flashbacks started to settle simply from the pure stubbornness of her own brain, which shot scoffs and head shakes straight out every time one popped up again.

But now, with her back pressed to the uncomfortable metal of a cafe chair, flannel pushed up to her elbows as she tilted her head back to enjoy the breeze from the sky, she started to think again.

Dina was leaning over a menu, biting her lip as she tried to decide what drink to order. It had been Dina who suggested they sit outside, at this particular cafe, so maybe El should blame what happened next on her.

The soft sound of the door swinging open sounded, bringing the auburn-haired girl’s face down from where it tilted into the sky.

For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Really. Maybe something had been slipped into the water next to her, or maybe Dina had like— poisoned her for calling her annoying earlier. Because certainly, this was not real.

Your hair, the one she had brought her hands to tug at the other night, was on full display, your head tilted down as you rummaged through an apron with the cafe’s name printed on it. Ellie knew it was you right away, and blinked a few times to ensure this was not some evil hallucination.

The auburn-haired girl sat up a little straighter on the chair, causing an awfully loud screech against the cement. Your head came up simultaneously, the pen now in hand.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flipping to an empty page in your little order book. “Had to find a pen. What can I get you guys?”

You smiled, just like you had under the flashing lights of that club, and it was just as pretty as Ellie remembered. But when your eyes met hers, that smile faltered slightly. The pen slipped from your grip, clambering right onto the table with a very annoying ping sound.

Dina reached her hand to grab it, but Ellie was faster. As if was some competition, she leaned slightly over the table and wrapped her fingers around the pen, holding it up for you. “Here,” she mumbled, trying to keep any voice crack to herself. “Thanks..” you hummed, sniffling.

Dina eyed between the two of you, slightly convinced she had just been forced into the middle of some awful cheesy romcom, something that would be promoted with big blocky letters like ‘cafe meet cute!’ She cleared her throat, breaking the weirdly tension-filled stare down happening between the two of you.

“Sorry—“ you apologized, throwing on another cheery smile as you looked at Dina, “what can I get you?”

Ellie doesn’t even hear Dina’s order, and she also doesn’t prepare hers. She is too busy nervously twisting a finger between her other hand in her lap, sneaking very obvious glances at you, and then back down to the menu that looks like pure gibberish.

“Cool! And for you?” your voice questions next, smooth and sweet in a way that had the film reel of Saturday playing in Ellie’s head all over again.

“You can kiss me, you know?” you called over the loud music of the club, ignoring how bodies bumped against you every other second, sending you stumbling further into Ellie, who you had flipped to face, her hands still gripping your waist. Your eyes blinked slowly at her, glossy lips twitching up, head dizzy with the vodka and cranberries you had. Ellie wasted no time after your request, pressing forward harshly to capture your lips.

Ellie cleared her throat, “Uh..” great, she had totally no idea what to order. “Honestly, I’ve never been here... I’m not sure what I’d like. What’d you recommend?”

Dina didn’t even hold back the scoff from the other side of the table, because, really.. that was Ellie’s line?

You seemed to find it endearing, though, meeting her eyes again as you suggested your favorite sandwich and drink, pointing toward it on the menu.

“Cool…cool.. I’ll try that,” Ellie nodded, leaning back into her chair again. The sandwich you recommended had tomatoes, and she hated tomatoes. But it was fine.

You nod one too many times before turning on your heel and speed walking inside.

Dina started immediately. “Why the hell did you just eye fuck our waitress?” she accuses, leaning in to squint her eyes at you. “Also, you are fucking ass at flirting. Staring at someone with those freakily green eyes just doesn’t work.”

Ellie frowned, “fuck off, Dina.”

She waited to speak until she was sure you were inside the cafe again. “That’s the girl I made out with at the club,” she muttered, flushing slightly.

Dina’s mouth dropped open, “You’re shitting me.”

Auburn hair shook slightly out of place as the other sighed. “Nope. It’s totally her.”

“Damn… maybe you’ve got some weird curse on you that, like.. bans you from having one night stands.”

Ellie only scoffed in response. It didn’t feel like a curse, maybe more like a blessing to see you again.

“Hey, you can go two for two with shitty lines for waitresses and put your number on the receipt.”

Ellie rolled her eyes like it was a bad idea, but she definitely would do it.

[cowboylikesvt]

Spider-boy! 🕸 🎸🎧

prev || masterlist || next

Chapter 2: Better late than never

warnings: cursing, jokes using kys/kms/die, 18+ humor minors dni

Word Count: 2.6k

Written part under the cut

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You reach the door of the auditorium where your physics class is held. Immediately when you enter, you see all eyes are on you, which makes sense; you are walking in as the professor is about to pass around the exam.

You smile awkwardly and hand a note to your professor, who is giving you the usual annoyed look he wears, but in reality, he only wears that expression for you. 

“Sorry, I’m late.” You say as he glances down at the note. “Again.” He sighs and then hands the note back. “Go sit down; I’m about to pass out the test.” You smile awkwardly and then rush to the front of the auditorium. 

As you head to the top, you are unaware of Jisung watching you from his seat in the front row. “Bro, you’re practically making heart eyes at her.” Jake elbows Jisung in the side. Jisung runs his side. “Ow, I was not.”

Jake scoffs. “Yeah, okay, just make it less obvious. Also, keep your mouth closed; you were practically drooling.” Jisung rolls his eyes at Jake. “I was not drooling—“ 

The professor then cuts him off, clearing his throat. Jisung looks up and sees the professor waiting for Jisung to grab the stack of tests to pass down his row. “Sorry,” Jisung smiles nervously before taking the stack of tests, taking one for himself before passing it on. 

Meanwhile, you climb up the auditorium steps heading to the back. You spot Jeongin and quickly sit next to him in your usual spot. 

“Finally,” he groaned. “I thought I was going to be all by myself today.” You give him an annoyed look. “I wasn’t that late.”

“You missed the first 15 minutes of review,” Jeongin says, keeping his voice down. You whisper back. “Ok, but I didn’t miss the test.”

Jeongin raises his eyebrow. “By like a minute.” You roll your eyes at your best friend. “Did you even study?” He asks, and you gasp accusingly at him. 

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I studied.” You put your hand on your chest. Jeongin tilts his head. “Let me rephrase that: Did you study longer than 30 minutes?”

You can’t hide the expression on your face. “Well, no!” Jeongin chuckles to himself, letting out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, you’re cooked.” 

“I don’t have time to study, and I didn’t get home until late last night because of…” You pause for a minute, looking around to make sure no one’s paying attention. “Work.”

You lower your voice, finishing your sentence. 

“I don’t think it counts as a job if you’re not getting paid.” Jeongin puts his lips into a straight line, giving a side eye as he pulls out a pencil from his bag. 

“I get paid! I just didn’t last night.” You huff, reaching into your bag for a pencil. The professor finally reaches your row and hands both you and Jeongin the tests. The professor gives you an annoyed look before walking down the stairs back to the front of the auditorium. Jeongin laughs a bit in response, but then you both start the test. 

You know almost nothing on the test. It’s really sad, and you know it is. You decide to just randomly guess because, in all honesty, you don’t have time to waste sitting there thinking about what could be the right answer when you don’t even know the basics. 

Everyone in the class finishes around the same time, and so you finish circling in your answers before walking down the steps to the front of the auditorium. You hand the professor your test, and he looks at it and immediately frowns after seeing the front page. 

“I need you to stay after class.” He says, then collects everyone else’s tests as they walk up. Jeongin gives you a concerned but sympathetic look. “I’ll wait for you in the hall.” He pats your back before leaving giving you a sympathetic look as he heads out. 

When Jisung is about to leave the room with Jake, the professor stops him. “Jisung, will you wait in the hall for me? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” 

Jisung nods. “Uh, sure, alright.” He then leaves with Jake. Once everyone is out of the room, the professor approaches you. 

“Ms. L/n I think it is in your best interest to drop the class.” The professor gives you a stoic look. “I don’t want to drop the class. I need the hours.”

“Well, you won’t get the hours if you fail, which you are right now.” He gives a stern look. “You have scored terribly on almost everything we’ve had, you’re always late, and you barely study.”

“I know, I know, and I am truly sorry, sir. It’s just I never have much time—I mean, I barely have time to sleep with all the clubs I’m in, the fundraisers I run, and, um, work.” You list all the reasons you can think of, but immediately catch yourself when you get to work. It’s not a typical “job,” so you stop yourself from explaining further and getting yourself into trouble that’s worse than academic suspension.

“I have students who work and do all of those things but still make good grades in my class.” You grit your teeth at his monotone response.

You think to yourself. “Yeah, but their jobs don’t involve working as an anti-hero every night.” You huff and wipe off whatever unpleasant look you may have formed while deep in thought and give him a pleading smile. 

“Is there any extra credit?” 

The professor sighs. “I can give you the extra credit early. It is due on the day of the final exam in almost 2 months. I can also give you the upcoming assignments early that are due the day of our next exam in 2 weeks. That way there are no excuses since you have weeks and months in advance.”

He then walks over to the large folder he keeps for the class and rummages through the papers. “Here.”

You reach your hand out to grab the papers. “Thank you so much. I promise to have these—“

He retracts his hand in the middle of your sentence and cuts you off. “There is one condition. You will get the extra credit on the condition that you regularly meet with a tutor. I want to make sure you are actually putting effort into my class and aren’t just rushing to get things done before the deadline. You will go to tutoring, and I will have them reach out to me if you do not attend the sessions.”

You frown and huff. “But I—“ you try to protest, but he immediately cuts you off. “This is my only offer. You take the extra credit, or you can fail out of my class or drop it.”

You throw your head back in frustration. You know how much you need the credit for this class. You either drop the class to risk not failing and lose the hours, or you don’t drop the class, don’t take the offer, and fail and lose the hours regardless. You have no other choice.

“All right, I’ll do it.” You reluctantly agree to the professor’s deal. You read his syllabus, so you know he also drops a test grade at the end of the semester. You also read his reviews on Rate My Professor and know that he never makes exceptions, so you know this is your one chance. You have to make at least a C, and right now you are two letter grades below that.

“So when will I meet my tutor?” You ask. 

“Stay right here and I will grab him.” The professor speaks and exits the classroom. 

“Him?” You mumble to yourself. “It better not be fuck-ass Jeongin.” Jeongin has decent grades in the class, but he is in no way qualified to be a tutor. He is your best friend, and sitting with him for an hour means you’d get nothing done. It’s two dumb bitches telling each other exactly for an hour straight. 

Meanwhile, the professor steps into the hallway and greets Jisung. “Sorry, it took me a few minutes.”

Jisung shakes his head and waves his hand. “Oh, no worries; it’s all right. I don’t have to be at work for another hour. Is everything okay?” Jisung tries to play it cool, but internally he’s been freaking out. Thinking of all the worst-case scenarios.

Did he do something wrong? Will he get in trouble? He was about to shit himself, but he had to play it cool. If he shit himself, his friends would never let him live it down.

“Everything is fine.” The professor says casually. Jisung sighs in relief but is also a little annoyed that he is so casual all the while he was about to shit his pants while beating himself up mentally over scenarios in his head.

“I wanted you to stay back because I wanted to see if you would be interested in extra credit.” The professor asks in good spirits (a big contrast as to how he was with you). “You would be tutoring a classmate.”

The professor shrugs. “I know you don’t need it, but you were the first person I thought of since your scores are always remarkably high.”

Jisung feels a bit reluctant. He has a job and somewhat of a social life, and he’s Spiderman. On top of all of that, he has other classes to study for. 

“I appreciate that you thought of me first, but I’m not sure if I have the time.” Jisung starts to politely decline while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I forgot to mention that tutoring hours are also very helpful. They also look really good on applications if you decide to pursue grad school in the same field.” The professor says casually once again. 

Jisung slumps down a bit at the once again casual tone. 

“This man really needs to work on his timing and delivery.” Jisung thinks to himself, rather annoyed. 

However, he thinks about the benefits for him. It’s in his best interest. The extra points would be great, yeah, even though he doesn’t really need them. 

What made him interested was the mention of grad school. He does want to attend grad school one day, and he could use all the help he can get. He’s on a scholarship currently, and he could possibly get one for grad school. This would help his chances. 

He also doesn’t want to rely on his Aunt May, who is the only family he has left. He doesn’t want to be a financial burden to her. Especially after his uncle died. 

“I understand if you don’t have time; I can find another tutor for her.” The professor speaks up once more. 

Jisung replies almost immediately. “I’ll do it!” He then pauses.

 “Wait—did he say ‘her…?”” Jisung ponders. 

“Great! She’s in the class. I’ll introduce the two of you, and you guys can go from there.” The professor walks over to the auditorium door and waves at Jisung to follow him. 

Jisung follows behind, and when he enters the classroom, his eyes land on you, and his eyes immediately widen. 

Jisung almost leaps for joy. Today is his lucky day. He contains his excitement, but internally he’s freaking out, thanking no one in particular. “Whoever you are… thank you.” 

You look up from the papers your professor handed you a few minutes ago and see him walk back into the classroom with a guy. 

You hold it on, but you almost sigh loudly, thanking whoever that he isn’t a total weirdo and looks normal. You look at him a little longer as he approaches, observing him. Why is he kind of... You snap yourself out of those thoughts, shaking your head. “Focus, focus,” you repeat to yourself. 

“Y/n, this is Jisung. Jisung, this is Y/n. Jisung will be your tutor.“ The professor introduces the two of you (even though Jisung is well aware of who you are) before he walks over to grab his briefcase off the desk at the front of the room. 

“I have to go, but I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted with one another and discuss your plans for meeting going forward.” He starts to exit the auditorium before stopping at the door. “The next exam is in two weeks, so please use your time wisely.” He gives you a stern look before leaving. 

You both are left there standing a bit awkwardly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” You break the silence. “Thank you for agreeing to tutor me.”

Jisung smiles. “It’s nice to meet you too! Oh, and it’s no problem at all.”

“Wait, you work at Starlight Records with Chan, right?” You ask after recognizing him. Jisung almost jumps and squeals at the fact you remember him, but he resists the urge. 

“Yes, I do work at Starlight Records, and I do work with Chan.” He nods, smiling. 

“I’ve been in there several times. It’s such a cool place! Although I’m always in there when Chan is the only one working.” You try to make conversation with him. It doesn’t feel forced; he is pretty easy to talk to. 

“Yeah, my hours are a bit all over the place. Speaking of hours, what times work best for you?” Jisung shifts the topic. 

“Oh right…” You remember why you’re talking to him. “I really don’t have a lot of time during the days... and not at nights either….”

Jisung gives a bit of a puzzled look, wondering how he could tutor you if you had no free time. “Do you have any time in between classes?”

You think to yourself for a minute. “I don’t, but after my last class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’m free from 3:00 to 5:30. I have a club meeting after that.”

Jisung nods. “That works great for me! I work in the mornings and early afternoons those days.” 

You grab your phone from your back pocket. “Here, if you want, you can give me your number, and I can text you so you have mine.”

Jisung tries to maintain himself. He’s freaking out on the inside. He’s getting the number of the girl he’s had a crush on forever. He nods. “Yeah, cool, cool.” He tries to play off his excitement. 

Jisung puts his number into your phone and then returns it to you. “I’ll text you right now so you have my number too! We can text later about when and where our first session will be.” You give him a kind smile. 

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll, uh, see you later.” You say your goodbyes before walking out of the auditorium. You’re already down the hall walking away with Jeongin, who has been waiting for you the last 5 to 10 minutes while Jisung is practically skipping down the hallway in the other direction. 

You see Jeongin sitting on one of the cushioned seats at the end of the hall. He turns his head and takes his headphones off. “Finally.” He groans once again as he stands up, stretching. “Took you long enough.”

“I was only gone for like 15 minutes.” You give him an annoyed look due to his complaints. “I waited longer for you to take a shit at that bookstore that one time.”

Jeongin grumbles. “You know coffee never sits well.” After you are both done teasing each other, you both walk out of the building and down the sidewalk to the cafe you and your friends always go to.

“It’s just so stupid.” You complain. “If I barely have time to sleep, how does he expect me to have time to go to tutoring?” 

“Well, you refused to drop the class and are on the verge of failing—well, actually, you are failing. Besides, at least you have a little open time to do it.” Jeongin shrugs.

You feel your shoulders sag as you walk. “I guess.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Author’s Note: Hey so it’s been a while and i’m sorry. It’s been a crazy last few months but i finally have free time and can get back to working on this smau! please ignore any mistakes I’m uploading this late and i will go back and fix everything later i just want to get this posted since it’s been forever. As always I hope you all enjoyed <3

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 5

i’m sorry i wasn’t here, not just tonight, but every day. i haven’t been here. i know that now.

i know that you just needed me to listen, to hear you. 

maybe you should take a break. and… get help.

where did you find that kind of courage?

i thought if i just kept my head down and followed the rules, everything would be fine.

these people kill with false hope.

sometimes what's painful in the moment is what gets you where you need to go.

i enjoy being better at things than everyone else.

i haven’t felt at home in this world.

remember, i’m still betting on you.

okay, but what about me? i’m not ready.

i would give anything to not give a shit, but i do.

time to forgive yourself, kid. you got a future. you gotta see that now.

some nights are so damn dark. and then they still manage to get darker. 

every time i try to make something right, i always hurt someone.

it’s like i was living for the first time. and once you feel that, you’ll do anything to keep feeling it.

i don’t want you guys to die for me.

i got my rep as the strong, silent type to think about.

we have to be brave in this life we have, simply to exist now.

they can’t hurt me. there’s no one left that i love.

fuck you, you really hurt my feelings.

all we have is what we carry on our backs.

do you trust me or not?

that’s the thing. if they don’t know it was a lie, they get to just live.

i wanted to be brave. i wanted to be more like you.

i’m not brave. i’m a shit person who does shit things because i don’t give a single shit about anything.

so you feel like you didn’t do enough then, now you have to do everything for everyone.

your head is shoved so far up the future’s ass, you’ve completely abandoned the now.

i haven't had a family in a long time, but i have one now.

i fucked it up because i’m fucked up.

you want me to be scared of you. but i’m not.

you shouldn’t come in here. it’s not safe. i’m not safe.

you’re like the most put together person i know.

you can be charming when you’re not angry or hungry.

i didn’t ask for you to rescue me. you did that, for you. 

i’m normal. this is what normal looks like when you’ve had my fucking life.

i don't think it's something you get away with. you still have to live with what you've done.

i’m in this now, and i need to know everything. you owe me that.

how come you never choose me?

you had the guts to do something brave. 

people go through all sorts of stuff, bad things, and they don’t tell anybody.

i worry myself, too.

i just know that i need to make my life count. it’s all i can do.

might’ve been shitty parents, but they’re still your parents.

when we get there, we’ll be different. we’ll be ready. 

you missed me that much?

a lot of hope is dangerous.

i don’t wanna be who everybody thinks i am here. 

it’s the things we love most that destroy us.

you're a good person even with all your bad qualities.

see? we’re good together.

you really think the world’s gonna end?

i’d like for the time i have left on this earth to mean something.

i don’t give a shit anymore. i just want to be a good person.

what if you just want something, and you want it so bad?

i guess we both got what we wanted.

you’re a fucking creep, i’m a fucking catch.

we walked into the darkest place there was, but we did it together.

you’re not bored. your heart’s broken.

i don’t pity you, like at all. i wish i was like you.

she took me straight into the fog of war.

you don’t know everything. and you can’t control me.

you can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to me. 

you’re fucking badass.

i love you. can you handle me saying that?

i make a habit of expecting the worst so i won’t get hurt.

i know this is too little, too late, but i’d really like us to be friends.

i sure hope you catch me when i fall. 

why focus on what’s wrong and not what’s right?

your lies, you can’t even keep track of them.

love is a kind of killing, and none of us get out alive.

maybe something good can come from something bad.

there’s something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls. 

remember half an hour ago when you wanted to murder me? 

that’s all we are the whole time, shells with nothing inside.

please, can you just talk to me? anything you need, just say the word.

i keep blaming everyone, but it was me. it was my fault.

yeah, maybe fire and gasoline can hang out.

it is so easy to find yourself in dark places.

what’s right is that i feel something for you that i just don’t feel anywhere else with anyone else.

i’m going to have to take that risk.

you said it yourself, you don’t remember what happened. is it so hard for you to believe you might be innocent? 

you know what the worst part is? i really thought i had good instincts.

you’re right, you don’t owe me shit, but i’m asking you anyway. 

i could’ve been nicer. i could’ve been less of a monster.

we grew apart from each other. we’re two different people now.

you’re both sad and lonely. you’re a perfect match.

maybe we just needed to work through the bad to get to the good.

you were right. everything is cursed.

god, you are so gruesome. 

you take me for everything i’m worth.

it’s okay if you’re scared.

are you trying to get me to forgive and forget?

[me-loving-woso]

Prompt List

Hi everyone, I hope you are having a great day! This is my prompt list for some imagines/ficlets that I want to write, if you like you can decide to chose up to 3 prompts per fic. If you like any other prompt other than this, feel free to write me, and I’ll try my best to write it.

Angst/Emotional:

“Just please, don’t leave me.”

“It hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much? I just want it to stop.”

“Forget it. Just like you forget everything else.”

“I never ask for help because I’m not sure I know how.”

“It’s alright to feel broken every once and a while. And it’s alright to take time to heal.”

“I feel like I’m falling apart.”

“What is it about me that isn’t good enough?”

“I wish I was brave.”

“Whats the point in trying if only one of us is willing to?”

“You almost died and you’re making jokes?”

“I would give up everything for the chance to hear your laugh again. To see you smile. To see you happy.“

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

“For once in your life, do what you want! Be selfish!”

“Being strong doesn’t mean never asking for help or admitting you’re in pain.”

“No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave, and then you did.”

“I’m a fool for believing you meant what you said.”

“You are not your past.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Fluff/Romantic:

“I just cant see myself ever living without you.”

“If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.”

“I didn’t believe in soulmates until I met you.”

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Go with me?” “Only if you hold my hand.”

“I’d feel much better if you’d let me walk you home.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

“You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.”

“I’ve never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. But, the idea of never trying scares me even more.”

“I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.”

“Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

“You give me a reason to be better, to do better.”

"All I’ve ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home.”

“They don’t compare to you. No one does.”

“No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“You brought me breakfast?” “Well you said you always forget to eat before you go to work, so I thought I’d make sure you ate something.”

“Everything feels right when you are with me.”

“I don’t care what others say, I want to be with you and that’s all that matters to me.”

“You bought me flowers?” “Yeah, well I noticed you’d seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up.”

“I’ll be damned if anyone makes you feel like you aren’t worthy of being loved.”

“I wasn’t sure what love really felt like until I met you.”

“I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

“Maybe if you stopped staring at them and actually talked to them, you might have a chance.”

“I want you. All of you, and not just halfheartedly, but wholly. And maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t care.”

“Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.” “'l’ll stay for as long as you need.”

“You are my family.”

“We’ve been by each other’s sides for years, you think I’m gonna leave now?”

“Take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you, because you are worth waiting for. So when you are ready. I’ll be right here.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind”

“Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.”

“How long have you had this planned?” “Since the moment I fell in love with you.”

“You came all the way here for me?”

“Why are you staring at me?” “Because I think you’re beautiful.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” “I think I’m okay with that.”

“What are you doing here?” “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“The world gets a little brighter when your around.”

“They say we wont last.” “Then lets prove them wrong.”

“You kissed me.”“You kissed me back.”“And I’m not here to apologize.”

”you deserve so much more than what you’ve gotten,”

“maybe we could go get coffee…tomorrow?” “yeah, i’d like that.” “you would?!? uh- i mean great, i’ll text you the details.” 

 “i missed you.” “you just saw me,” “yes, but i missed holding you.” 

"Perfect,""What?""You're perfect,"

Miscellaneous:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.”

“I’ve never told you that before.”

“You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“At least it couldn’t get any worse.” “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if i came with instructions.”

“Wake me up when it’s over.”

“I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

"Abort mission, I repeat abort mission.” “What? Abort what mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and they’re too attractive. I can never speak to them again.”

“At least I kept my promise.”

“I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you.”

“…Did you just sniff me?”

“Of course I noticed, I notice everything about you.”

“Are you alright?” “Yeah, why?” “You look mad.” “That’s just my face…”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Since when did you open a bakery in your house?” “Since I got bored.”

“Can someone explain to me, in not so many words, why they are here?”

“For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something.”

“I hate that I let you convince me to do this”

“What are you doing here?” “I got locked out of my house.” “Again?”

“Where are we going?” “It’s a surprise.” “I hope the surprise involves food.”

“I am nothing if not consistent.” “Yeah, a consistent pain in my ass.”

“What happened?” “Do you want the long version or the short version?” “Uh, short?” “I made a mistake.” “Okay, long version.” “I made a very very big mistake.”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” “Not without crying.”

“Are we all on the same page?” “Yes. Just of different books.”

“Why did you break up with them?” My dog didn’t like them, and that is never a good sign.“

Scenario Prompts: *For prompts with Characters A and B; you can choose who is who in your request (who is reader and/or character)

Fall asleep in same bed, on opposite sides, wake up in each others arms.

Separated forcefully or for reasons you can’t control, run into each other again years later on accident.

Get locked in somewhere together.

Continuously running into one another for days after having a meet cute.

Hands brush as you stand next to each other, you think it’s on accident until their hands gentle wrap around yours.

Caught staring too many times for it to be a coincidence.

Size difference hug; they engulf you.

You refuse to leave so they pick you up and throw you over their shoulder.

Character A can tell Character B is getting nervous in a big crowd, so A slips their hand into theirs to help them calm down.

B taking care of A when they are sick.

Holding hands underneath the table.

Bandaging the other and then kissing the injury gently.

B sitting/standing behind A and leaning into them as they show/teach them how to do something.

As you begin to fall asleep, you feel a gentle kiss pressed to your temple and a blanket draped over you.

B comforting A as they wake up from a nightmare.

A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else.

A game of 20 questions that ends with “Can I kiss you?”

There’s a big storm going on outside while A is at B’s house, so B insists they sleep over.

A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay.

A falling asleep while sitting next to B, as there head falls onto B’s shoulder, B stays as still as they can, afraid to wake A.

Cloudgazing or Stargazing together, as you lie next to each other, their hand slips into yours.

Looking around for the shirt you left at your s/o’s house; only to find it in a drawer with other clothes and items you’ve left.

B get’s so nervous about their dinner date with A that they accidentally make enough food to feed ten people.

A hand written love lover left at your doorstep.

B dancing to music as their cooking or cleaning, and as they spin around A suddenly appears, grabbing onto B and continuing to dance with them.

A buying B groceries because they knew they forgot to buy themselves food again.

A finding a hand-sketched photo of them on B’s desk.

B helping A step down from a high place by taking their hand, and then not letting go as they continue to walk.

Comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together.

Dancing around the living room of the first home you’ve bought together.

Long distance relationship; receiving a good morning text every morning, until one day you don’t. You are worried, but then there is a knock at your door.

B is sunshine, rainbows and kindness. A is night, rain-clouds and anger. But when A meets B, they bask in the sunshine and never want to leave.

B asking A to attend a wedding with them, to get out of going with someone their parents tried to set them up with.

[vanderwoodlings]

I really am fucking obsessed with 2.07 tho. Like

S: When it's just the three of us, it's fine, but anytime she gets a new guy, she stepfords out and lets him make all the decisions.

E: I don't think that's what's happening.

S: Remember when we had to move to Chamonix because German Klaus wanted to ski all year round?

E: That wasn't so bad.

S: But what about Paolo—the raw food diet? Family colonics? Or Sameer? I know I enjoyed our—

E: I see what you mean.

See that. That would’ve been enough—Serena didn’t spend her entire childhood in the Upper East Side. That tiny fragment alone is fascinating! But the overall point that Lily repeatedly changes herself for men and that affects her parenting style, meaning that Serena and Eric’s home life was even more unstable than previously thought? That’s something to chew on. But wait—there’s more:

B: Oh, your mother. Remember how she always used to just jet off to Mustique or Ibiza without warning while you and Eric were still in school?

S: Eleanor always knew when we showed up with our overnight bags. Lily had a new boyfriend. We tried alternating between you and the archibalds so you guys never knew how bad it really was.

B: We knew.

Like, this is in-text neglect. This is “Lily was in no way ready or able to be a parent” level stuff. (And then you think about the Scott of it all and you have to wonder if Serena was in any way planned or if Lily just couldn’t do that again. You have to wonder.)

And there’s the idea of Blair and Nate and the first time that they ever really added how much time Eric and Serena had been spending at their houses, and the idea of these tiny kids doing their best to make it okay as much as possible, and Serena is trying really hard to parent Eric and make it seem as okay as possible, but Eric is entirely aware even if he can’t say anything because that would make Serena’s life hard, and so everyone’s lying to everyone else and they’re all trying very hard not to talk about how not okay it is.

Someone write the fic.

Still, we continue:

S: I remember this one time, um, when I was eleven. Eric and I wanted a white christmas. Luckily, mom's husband was a raging cokehead, so he left blow everywhere.

L: Oh my god.

E: It wasn't everywhere—just on the smooth, shiny surfaces.

S: Was that, um, German Klaus with a "k," or was it Danish Claus with a "c"? I can't ever remember which ones she actually married or which she just decided were more important than her children.

Like, wow. And you wonder why your kids have issues.

(And I focus a lot on how Lily is bringing unsafe people into her kids’ lives, but she’s also bringing them into her life. Just makes me wanna grab the gossip girl writers by the lapels and shake them until all the explorations of trauma fall out.)

L: Eric, my darling, you are always honest with me. It isn't true, is it?

E: I know Serena’s timing sucked, but she did pretty much raise me all those years. You just weren't here, you know?

L: I wasn't that bad.

E: Our ringtone for you was "Since U Been Gone.” Vanya the doorman used to sign our permission slips from school.

When I put that last bit into i won’t cross these streets, I got several comments re: ow. Because it is, in fact, painful.

But it’s also canon, and it’s one of the multitude of anecdotes that Eric and Serena give us about the pre-series era in this episode—like, the “Since U Been Gone” thing? That’s a whole dark joke coping mechanism shared between them, which means that Eric and Serena chose it together. Maybe it was as simple as Eric getting his first phone and being excited to give reverting custom ringtones, or maybe one of them straight up had a breakdown and the joke was part of a way to calm down. It’s not just saying Lily wasn’t there, it’s giving us all the little parts of what that meant—in anecdotes, in Serena’s stress response focusing so much on Protect Eric, in Eric talking Serena down at the start of the episode and coolly backing her up when she finally loses it

It’s a fucking gift that just keeps giving

[theblackhate]

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Negan Smith

check the other parts here!

Summary:

There is no longer a home, no place of comfort in that world. One survives to live, risking life to move forward and protect one's people.

But there are always two sides of the same coin. So, is the villain truly the villain? Or is He just the villain in your story?

Pairing: Negan Smith x reader

Word Count: 7.1k

The wives

The cold bite of February lingered in the air, creeping through the cracks in the Sanctuary’s walls. Delilah sat on the edge of her bed, her knees drawn to her chest and a blanket draped over her shoulders. The room was small but functional—a bed, a chair, and a table pushed against the wall. It was quieter now, being on the same floor as Negan, Laura, and Franklin. The muffled sounds of life from below—the clang of tools, the occasional bark of a laugh—drifted through the space, reminding her that the Sanctuary was alive, thriving.

She hadn’t left her room in days. Not since the visit to Oceanside.

The Sanctuary had grown in the weeks since. More people had joined—drifters, small groups of survivors, even a few families. Negan’s influence was spreading, and with it, the Sanctuary’s reach. Delilah thought about the communities Negan had started to bring under his control. It wasn’t just Oceanside anymore. There were others—small settlements scattered across the region, each one bending the knee to the man with the bat.

Her stomach churned at the thought of Oceanside. She could still see the leader’s face, the mix of fear and fury as Negan had swung Lucille down onto the man’s skull. The sound of the bat connecting, the wet, sickening crunch, was something she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried.

One swing. That’s all it had taken for Negan to make his point. To show Oceanside—and everyone else—what happened when you crossed him.

And now Oceanside was his. Not through alliances or mutual trust, but through fear. They owed him supplies, labor, loyalty. They didn’t dare defy him, not after what they’d seen.

Delilah clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She hated the memory of that day, hated how helpless she’d felt. And yet, she couldn’t deny the truth: Negan’s methods worked. Oceanside was strong, resourceful, and now they were part of the Sanctuary’s growing network.

But at what cost?

Franklin’s voice echoed faintly from down the hall, a deep, gravelly tone that carried a strange mix of irritation and warmth. Delilah had heard him mention recently that he’d decided to step back from being a soldier, claiming he’d do more good as a medic. It made sense. He wasn’t one for flashy shows of strength, but he had a steady hand and a wealth of knowledge that others lacked.

She’d caught glimpses of him in the hall, carrying supplies to what had become the Sanctuary’s makeshift infirmary. His gruff demeanor hadn’t softened much, but there was something calmer about him now, something more purposeful.

It made her wonder if she should be doing more. If she even could do more.

Delilah let her head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts churned. She didn’t know why she’d pulled away from everyone, why the thought of stepping out of her room felt so impossible. She told herself it was because she didn’t belong, because she didn’t trust the growing group of people who called the Sanctuary home.

But deep down, she knew the truth. It wasn’t just the people she didn’t trust—it was herself.

She thought about the man she’d killed at Oceanside. The way she’d moved without hesitation, without thought, as if it had been instinct. She hated how natural it had felt. How easy it had been.

And yet, she couldn’t ignore the flicker of pride she felt when she remembered the way Negan had looked at her afterward. The approval in his eyes, the way he’d called her timing “perfect.” It unsettled her how much those moments lingered, how much they mattered.

A soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Delilah tensed, her gaze snapping to the door as Orion lifted his head from where he was curled on the bed. The knock came again, firmer this time.

“It’s Laura,” a voice called from the other side.

Delilah hesitated, her heart pounding. She hadn’t spoken to Laura in days, hadn’t spoken to anyone. But something about the way Laura knocked—patient, unyielding—made her stand.

She crossed the room and opened the door just enough to see Laura standing there, her rifle slung over her shoulder and a faint smirk on her lips.

“Thought you might’ve turned into a ghost for real,” Laura said, her tone light but laced with concern.

“What do you want?” Delilah asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

“Negan’s looking for you,” Laura said simply. “Something about a meeting. Thought I’d come get you before he starts yelling.”

Delilah’s stomach tightened. She didn’t want to face Negan, didn’t want to face the weight of everything she’d been avoiding. But she nodded anyway, stepping back to grab her spear.

Laura watched her carefully, her smirk softening. “You good?”

Delilah didn’t answer right away. She tightened her grip on her knife, her mind swirling with doubt and fear. But then she met Laura’s gaze and nodded, even if it was just to convince herself.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’m good.”

The Sanctuary’s main hall buzzed with activity, the sound of footsteps and murmured voices filling the vast space as people gathered for the meeting. Delilah stood near the back. She’d avoided crowds since her arrival, but this time, there was no escaping it. The meeting wasn’t optional, and judging by the size of the crowd, it was important.

She scanned the room, taking in the sheer number of people. The Sanctuary had grown more than she’d realized. There were new faces everywhere—men, women, even a handful of children, all mingling with the original inhabitants. They wore a mix of expressions: curiosity, hope, and unease.

Delilah shifted uncomfortably, her fingers brushing over the handle of her knife as she tried to push down the growing tension in her chest. Orion sat quietly at her feet, his ears twitching as he picked up on the nervous energy in the room.

And then Negan appeared.

The murmurs died down instantly as Negan stepped to the top of the staircase, his presence commanding the room with an ease that both fascinated and unnerved Delilah. He wore his usual leather jacket, Lucille resting on his shoulder, his grin wide and confident. Behind him stood Laura and Simon, both watching the crowd with hawklike intensity.

But it wasn’t Negan or his lieutenants that drew Delilah’s attention. It was the woman standing beside him.

She was beautiful—tall and graceful, with deep brown skin that seemed to glow even in the dim light of the hall. Her black dress clung to her frame, elegant but simple, a stark contrast to the grimy, practical clothing worn by everyone else in the Sanctuary. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek style, and she carried herself with a quiet dignity that made her stand out even more.

What struck Delilah most, however, was Negan’s hand resting on the woman’s waist. The gesture wasn’t overly possessive, but it was clear, unmistakable. It spoke of intimacy, of ownership, and the sight of it made Delilah’s stomach churn.

Who is she? Delilah wondered, a knot forming in her chest. She’d never seen the woman before, and yet here she was, standing beside Negan like she belonged there. Like she was his equal.

Negan let the silence hang for a moment, his grin widening as he looked out over the crowd. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth and commanding, carrying effortlessly through the hall.

“Sanctuary!” he called, spreading his arms wide. “Look at this. Look at all of us, together in one place, making something that works in this messed-up world. It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

A smattering of cheers and nods rippled through the crowd, but Delilah stayed silent, her eyes fixed on Negan as he continued.

“Now, I know some of you might be thinking, Why do we follow this guy? Why do we give him a share of our hard-earned food, our supplies, our sweat and blood? And to that, I say this: Because what we’ve built here? This doesn’t work without all of us doing our part.”

His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on certain faces, as if daring them to disagree. “You’ve seen it out there,” he continued, his tone hardening. “What happens to the people who don’t have a Sanctuary. They’re starving, they’re dying, or they’re doing worse things just to survive. But not us. We’ve got food. We’ve got safety. We’ve got a system. And that system only works if everyone pulls their weight.”

Delilah’s jaw tightened as she listened. She couldn’t argue with the logic—Negan’s system did work. But it was built on fear and control, and she couldn’t ignore the growing unease that twisted in her gut.

Negan’s grin returned, a flash of white teeth as he spread his arms again. “Now, before we get back to business, I’ve got a little announcement to make.”

He turned slightly, gesturing to the woman beside him. “This here,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “is a very special lady. She’s smart, strong, and she’s got the kind of fire that this world needs more of. And today, I’m proud to say that she’s gonna be my wife.”

The room erupted into murmurs, a mix of surprise, confusion, and forced cheers. Delilah’s stomach twisted violently, a wave of nausea washing over her as she stared at the woman. She was poised, calm, but her eyes flickered with something Delilah couldn’t quite place—was it resignation? Acceptance? Fear?

Negan leaned closer to her, his grin softening as he added, “Meet Sasha.”

Delilah’s hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the knife, cutting herself, her mind racing. She couldn’t explain why the announcement bothered her so much, why the sight of Negan’s hand on Sasha’s waist filled her with such unease. Maybe it was the ease with which Negan claimed her, as if she were a prize to be displayed. Maybe it was the way Sasha seemed out of place, like she didn’t belong in Negan’s world.

Or maybe it was the gnawing sense of helplessness that crept into Delilah’s chest—the reminder that in Negan’s Sanctuary, everything and everyone was subject to his will.

The crowd cheered now, some louder than others, but Delilah couldn’t bring herself to join them. She felt sick, her stomach churning as she watched Negan take Sasha’s hand and raise it in the air, a show of triumph and power.

What is she to him? Delilah wondered. What does she mean?

And deep down, she couldn’t shake the thought that one day, she might find herself in Sasha’s place—not as a wife, but as someone trapped in Negan’s ever-tightening grasp.

Delilah didn’t wait for the meeting to end. The moment Negan’s grin widened and the crowd erupted into louder cheers, she slipped out, keeping her head down and her movements quiet. Nobody noticed her leave—not with all eyes fixed on Negan and Sasha at the top of the stairs.

Her heart pounded as she moved through the dimly lit hallways, her knife clutched tightly in her bloody hand. The noise from the gathering faded with each step, replaced by the low hum of the Sanctuary’s ever-present generator and the faint sounds of life echoing from other rooms.

By the time she reached her quarters, her breath was ragged, and a cold knot of anxiety had settled in her chest.

Delilah closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her hand still gripping the handle as if she expected someone to follow her. Orion padded over to her, his tail wagging faintly, but even he seemed to sense her tension. She dropped the knife on the table and sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she buried her face in them.

What the hell is he thinking?

The image of Negan at the top of the stairs, his hand on Sasha’s waist, replayed in her mind. She couldn’t make sense of it. Negan had always been about control, about power. Everything he did had a purpose, every move calculated to reinforce his dominance over the Sanctuary and everyone in it. So why now, why this? Why a wife?

Delilah pressed her palms against her temples, trying to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts. Was it just another power play? A way to show the Sanctuary—and the world—that Negan could take whatever he wanted, even something as personal as marriage? Or was it something deeper? Did Sasha mean something to him?

The thought made her stomach churn.

Delilah’s mind raced with possibilities. Negan didn’t do anything without a reason. If he was taking Sasha as his wife, it wasn’t just for show—it had to be part of a larger plan. Maybe it was about consolidating his hold over the Sanctuary, solidifying his image as not just a leader but as something untouchable, unshakable.

But the memory of Sasha’s expression lingered, a shadow she couldn’t ignore. Delilah had seen something in her eyes—something that didn’t fit the confident, poised image she presented. Was it fear? Doubt? Resignation? It was impossible to tell, but it gnawed at Delilah all the same.

She thought about the way Negan had spoken at the meeting, the way he’d emphasized everyone’s role in the Sanctuary’s success. It was a speech she’d heard variations of before—about unity, about survival, about pulling one’s weight. But this time, it felt different. He wasn’t just talking about the Sanctuary as it was; he was talking about what it could become.

Bigger. Stronger.

The communities Negan had begun to control—the ones he now “owned,” like Oceanside—were just the beginning. Delilah could see it now, the vision he was building. He didn’t just want to survive; he wanted to dominate. To rule.

And Sasha? Maybe she was part of that. A symbol. A trophy. A queen to his self-proclaimed kingdom.

Delilah clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She hated the way her thoughts spiraled, the way Negan’s actions consumed her mind. She didn’t want to care what he did or why he did it. She wanted to stay in the background, to fade into the shadows like she always had.

But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

The Sanctuary wasn’t just a place to her anymore—it was a home. For all its flaws, for all the fear and control that lingered in its walls, it was the closest thing to safety she’d known in years. And Negan? He wasn’t just a leader. He was her leader, in a way that made her stomach twist with both unease and... something else. Something she didn’t want to name.

A sudden knock at her door jolted her out of her thoughts. It was soft, hesitant, but it made her heart leap all the same. For a moment, she considered ignoring it, pretending she wasn’t there. But then the knock came again, firmer this time.

“Delilah?” a familiar voice called. It was Laura.

Delilah hesitated, her fingers curling into the blanket draped over her lap. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to face whatever questions or comments Laura might have about the meeting.

But she couldn’t hide forever.

With a deep breath, she stood and crossed the room, her hand lingering on the door handle before she opened it just enough to see Laura’s face.

“You okay?” Laura asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

Delilah nodded stiffly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You left early,” Laura said, her tone light but probing. “Missed the rest of Negan’s speech. Not that it was anything groundbreaking.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Delilah lied.

Laura studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if you need to talk... you know where to find me.”

Delilah nodded again and closed the door softly, leaning her forehead against the wood as Laura’s footsteps faded down the hall.

Delilah sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the cold floor of her room as the sounds of the Sanctuary buzzed faintly outside her door. Weeks had passed since the meeting where Negan had announced his marriage to Sasha, and the ripple effects of that moment had only grown stronger.

What she hadn’t known then—what nobody had truly understood—was that Sasha wasn’t going to be the only one.

It started subtly, with Negan taking more interest in certain women within the Sanctuary. He’d charm them, praise them, and offer them things others couldn’t have—better rooms, finer clothes, a break from the grueling labor that kept the Sanctuary running. Then came the offers, veiled as choices but clearly commands: to become one of his wives.

By the time Sherry joined them, everyone understood what was happening. Negan’s “wives” weren’t just companions; they were part of his growing empire, symbols of his power and control. In exchange for their loyalty—and likely their bodies—they were granted a privileged status in the Sanctuary. They didn’t have to work in the fields or scavenge on dangerous runs. They didn’t have to dirty their hands.

And for that, they paid a price.

The first time Delilah saw Sherry in the hall, wearing a sleek black dress much like Sasha’s, something unfamiliar churned in her chest. Sherry was beautiful, with striking features and an air of quiet elegance. She walked with a certain confidence, her chin high as she passed by with Negan at her side. His hand rested on her lower back, guiding her as he laughed at something she’d said.

Delilah turned away quickly, her stomach twisting in a way that left her unsettled. She told herself it was nothing, that it didn’t matter, but the feeling lingered.

Later that day, she caught herself watching Sherry again—this time from a distance, as Sherry chatted with one of the other wives. Delilah’s fingers curled into fists as a wave of something hot and uncomfortable coursed through her. She didn’t understand it, couldn’t place it, but it was there, undeniable.

Jealousy.

The realization hit her like a slap, and she recoiled from the thought. Jealousy? Over Negan? It was absurd. She didn’t want to be one of his wives. She didn’t want anything to do with the man’s twisted sense of control. She was sure of that.

And yet, every time she saw him with Sherry, or Sasha, or any of the others, the feeling crept back in.

What made it worse was the way Negan had started to treat her. Or rather, the way he’d stopped treating her.

Before, Negan had always included her in the important moments. She’d been part of the meetings, part of the runs. He’d teased her, challenged her, even praised her in his own gruff, sarcastic way. She’d been part of his inner circle, someone he seemed to value in his strange, twisted way.

But now? He barely seemed to notice her.

He stopped calling her to meetings, stopped assigning her to runs. Days passed without so much as a glance in her direction. It was as if she’d faded into the background, a real ghost.

At first, she told herself it was a relief. She didn’t want his attention, didn’t want to be part of his games. But the more he ignored her, the more it gnawed at her. She found herself wondering why. Had she done something wrong? Had she disappointed him?

And why did it even matter to her?

The air was warmer now, carrying the faint scent of earth and blooming weeds as spring crept into the Sanctuary. The winter cold had given way to milder nights, but the darkness still held a chill that Delilah felt deep in her bones. She walked silently beside Laura, her gun in hand, as they made their way along the outer perimeter of the Sanctuary.

The patrol was Laura’s idea. She’d sought Delilah out earlier that evening, her tone casual but her expression unreadable as she suggested the two of them take a shift together.

“I don’t like how things have felt lately,” Laura had said. “Something’s off. Could use the company.”

Delilah hadn’t asked what Laura meant by “off.” She’d simply nodded and grabbed her spear. The idea of getting out, even if just for a few hours, was better than sitting in her room alone, stewing over thoughts she couldn’t escape.

The two women moved quietly along the fence line, their boots crunching softly against the dirt. The night was still, save for the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a distant owl. Orion padded along beside them, his nose low to the ground as he sniffed at the air.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Delilah appreciated Laura’s presence—steady and unintrusive—but she couldn’t ignore the tension that lingered between them. Laura had been watching her more closely lately, and Delilah knew why. She wasn’t blind to how withdrawn she’d become, or how often she avoided the gatherings and meetings that had once been routine.

Finally, Laura broke the silence. “You ever wonder what he’s thinking?” she asked, her voice low but clear.

Delilah glanced at her, frowning. “What who’s thinking?”

“Negan,” Laura said simply, her eyes scanning the horizon. “He’s been... different lately.”

Delilah tightened her grip on her spear, her chest tightening. “Different how?”

Laura shrugged, her tone casual but her words pointed. “You know. Adding more wives. Pulling back from the day-to-day stuff. And you...”

“What about me?” Delilah asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Laura didn’t look at her, but there was something knowing in her smirk. “He hasn’t called you for anything in weeks. No meetings, no runs, nothing. Don’t you ever wonder why?”

Delilah’s jaw tightened, her gaze dropping to the ground. She’d wondered plenty. But she’d never dared to ask him. The thought of confronting Negan, of demanding answers, made her stomach churn.

“It doesn’t matter,” Delilah said finally, her voice quiet. “He doesn’t need me anymore. That’s all there is to it.”

Laura stopped walking, turning to face her. “You really believe that?”

Delilah hesitated, meeting Laura’s gaze. She wanted to say yes, to insist that she didn’t care, but the words wouldn’t come.

They resumed walking, the silence between them heavier now. Delilah’s mind churned as she replayed Laura’s words, trying to make sense of the knot of emotions tightening in her chest. She hated how much it bothered her—how much he bothered her. She’d told herself over and over again that Negan’s attention didn’t matter, that being ignored was a good thing. But the truth was harder to swallow.

She missed it. She missed the way he’d included her, the way he’d called her Ghost with that infuriating smirk, the way he’d made her feel like she was part of something. And now? Now he barely seemed to notice she existed.

And the wives—Sherry, Sasha, the others—they only made it worse. They were symbols of everything she wasn’t, everything she didn’t want to be. And yet, she couldn’t stop the wave of jealousy that surged every time she saw them.

Laura broke the silence again as they reached the far end of the fence line. “You know, if something’s eating at you, you should talk about it. Keeping it bottled up isn’t gonna help.”

Delilah shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Laura stopped and turned to her, her expression serious now. “You’re not. And that’s okay. But pretending you are? That’s not gonna fix anything.”

Delilah looked away, her jaw tightening. She didn’t want to talk about it, not with Laura, not with anyone. But Laura wasn’t one to let things go easily.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Laura pressed, her voice softer now. “Negan.”

Delilah flinched, but she didn’t respond.

Laura sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m not saying you need to confront him or anything. But if you’re gonna keep letting him live in your head, you need to figure out why. Otherwise, he’s just gonna keep dragging you down, and you’re better than that.”

Delilah’s chest tightened, her hands gripping her gun so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wanted to argue, to tell Laura she was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come.

Again.

Delilah lay awake in her bed that night, staring at the cracks in the ceiling as Laura’s words replayed in her mind. “If you’re gonna keep letting him live in your head, you need to figure out why.”

She hated how those words struck a nerve. Negan was in her head, his presence lingering like a shadow she couldn’t shake. Every time she tried to convince herself that she didn’t care, that she didn’t miss the Sanctuary or the place she’d carved out for herself there, the doubt crept back in.

But it wasn’t just Negan. It was everything. The Sanctuary wasn’t hers—it never had been. She didn’t belong there, not with the wives, the soldiers, the people who looked up to Negan like he was a king. She was just... lost. A ghost. And she was tired of pretending otherwise.

The decision came quietly but suddenly. She got out of bed, grabbed her knife and her pack, and slipped out of her room. Orion padded silently at her side, his eyes bright in the dim light. The Sanctuary was quiet, the halls empty save for the faint hum of the generator. She didn’t look back as she slipped out into the night, the gates closing behind her with a faint creak.

What she didn’t know was that a pair of blue eyes were watching her carefull, blond air floating in the wind. But Laura didn’t told anyone what she saw, not even when Negan asked where Delilah was.

The days blurred together as Delilah wandered, the ache in her chest matched only by the weariness in her legs. The landscape was a mix of overgrown fields, crumbling roads, and abandoned buildings, each one a reminder of how much the world had changed. Orion stayed close to her side, his presence a comfort in the lonely silence.

She scavenged what she could—cans of food from a gas station, a half-empty water bottle left behind in a car. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep her going. She didn’t have a destination in mind, just a need to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Sanctuary.

But even as she walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still running from something she couldn’t name.

It was on the fifth day that she saw it: a community, nestled in the remnants of an old school campus. The buildings were sturdy and well-maintained, with gardens blooming in neat rows and people moving about with a sense of purpose. What caught her attention most, though, was the fence. It wasn’t just functional—it was beautiful, adorned with colorful banners and wooden carvings.

Delilah crouched behind a cluster of trees, her spear resting across her knees as she watched. The people here didn’t move like the survivors she was used to. They weren’t frantic or desperate. They walked with their heads high, their conversations light and easy. It was... strange. Out of place in a world like this.

Orion let out a low whine, his tail wagging slightly as he nudged her leg. Delilah scratched behind his ears, her gaze fixed on the community. She didn’t trust it—not yet—but something about it made her pause. It wasn’t just survival here. It was something more.

She spent the night in the woods, watching the community from a safe distance. The next morning, as the sun rose, she was still there, hidden in the trees, when she saw him: a man on horseback, his posture regal, his clothes immaculate. He rode along the edge of the fence, his gaze scanning the treeline as if he knew she was there.

“Hello,” he called, his voice warm but commanding. “I see you out there. No need to hide.”

Delilah froze, her hand tightening on her spear. Orion growled softly, his ears flat against his head.

“I mean no harm,” the man continued, dismounting his horse. He held his hands out in a gesture of peace, his movements slow and deliberate. “My name is Ezekiel. I am the leader of this community, which we call the Kingdom. And you, traveler, are welcome here.”

“You’ve been watching us,” Ezekiel said, his tone gentle but knowing. “And I imagine you’ve seen enough to know we’re not like other places.”

She nodded slowly, still wary.

“Then come,” he said, gesturing toward the gates. “Join us. See for yourself.”

The Kingdom was everything Delilah had dreamed a community could be: warm, supportive, and free from the looming shadow of fear that had defined so much of her life. The people were kind, the tasks purposeful, and for a moment, she thought she might stay.

But the longer she stayed, the more the ache in her chest grew. It wasn’t the Kingdom—it was her. She couldn’t shake the memories of the Sanctuary, the connections she’d forged there, however fraught they were. Laura’s sarcastic smirks, Franklin’s gruff wisdom, even Simon’s maddening quips—they were a part of her now. And then there was Negan.

She hated how often her thoughts drifted to him. His sharp grin, his magnetic confidence, the way he could command a room with nothing but a look—it all lingered in her mind, even when she tried to push it away. She told herself she didn’t care, that he didn’t matter, but the truth gnawed at her. She missed him. She missed them.

The decision came suddenly, late one night as she lay in her borrowed bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t stay. She had to go back.

The journey back to the Sanctuary was long and grueling, but Delilah didn’t hesitate. Orion stayed close, his presence comforting as they traversed the familiar, desolate roads. When the gates of the Sanctuary came into view, her heart clenched. It was strange to feel relief and dread all at once, but she pressed forward.

The guards at the gate recognized her immediately, their surprise quickly replaced by questions.

“You’re back?” one of them asked, his brow furrowed. “Does Negan know?”

Delilah shook her head, brushing past him without answering. She didn’t know what she’d say to Negan—or if she’d say anything at all. For now, she needed to find Laura.

She found Laura in one of the upper corridors, overseeing a group sorting supplies. When Laura saw her, her eyes widened in shock before narrowing into a glare.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You’ve got some nerve, Ghost.”

Delilah sighed, her exhaustion evident. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Good, because I don’t have the energy,” Laura shot back, though her tone softened slightly. “Where the hell have you been?”

Delilah hesitated, then gestured for Laura to follow her. They moved to a quieter corner, where Delilah quickly recounted her time at the Kingdom. She described the community, the people, and the strange sense of peace she’d felt there.

“It’s different,” Delilah said, her voice low. “But it’s not... home.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “Home? Didn’t think you’d ever call this place that.”

Delilah shrugged, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t either. But I guess I... I don’t know. I missed it. I missed you.”

Laura smirked, though her eyes were softer now. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

Before Delilah could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Delilah stiffened, her breath catching as Negan approached. He was leaning casually against the wall, Lucille resting on his shoulder, but his eyes were anything but casual. They burned with an intensity that made her stomach twist.

“Laura,” he said, his grin sharp but devoid of warmth. “Mind giving us a minute?”

Laura glanced at Delilah, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You sure?”

Delilah nodded reluctantly, and Laura gave Negan a withering look before walking away.

Negan waited until Laura was out of earshot before turning his full attention to Delilah. “My office. Now.”

Delilah’s heart pounded as she followed him, her steps heavy with dread. When they reached his room, he shut the door behind them with more force than necessary, the echo reverberating through the small space.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Negan demanded, his voice low but seething with anger. “You think you can just disappear? No word, no warning? Do you have any idea what kind of shit you pulled?”

Delilah bristled, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “What do you care? You didn’t even notice me before I left!”

Negan froze, his eyes narrowing. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means you ignored me for weeks!” Delilah shot back, her voice rising. “No meetings, no runs, no nothing! You didn’t care about me, so why should I stay?”

Negan took a step closer, his grip tightening on Lucille. “You don’t get to decide that. You’re part of this place, part of my people. You don’t just vanish because you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

Delilah’s hands clenched into fists, her voice trembling with fury. “Feeling sorry for myself? Is that what you think? You pushed me out! You made me feel like I didn’t matter anymore. So don’t stand there and act like you give a damn now!”

Negan’s jaw tightened, his face a mask of barely restrained fury. “You think I don’t care? You think I haven’t been wondering where the hell you were every goddamn day? I don’t ignore people I don’t care about, Ghost. I trusted you.”

The words hit her like a slap, stealing the breath from her lungs. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

“Then why?” Delilah asked, her voice quieter now but no less sharp. “Why did you shut me out? Why did you make me feel like I didn’t exist?”

Negan stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. But then his shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair, the anger in his eyes giving way to something more complicated.

“Because I didn’t know what to do with you,” he admitted, his voice rough. “You’re not like the others. You don’t fall in line, but you’re not against me either. You’re... different.”

Delilah blinked, stunned into silence. She’d expected anger, dismissal, anything but this.

Negan took a step back, his gaze dropping to the floor. “You leaving? That scared me. Because if I can’t keep you here, what the hell does that say about this place?”

For the first time, Delilah saw something in Negan she hadn’t expected—vulnerability. It didn’t make the anger or the hurt go away, but it softened the edges, just enough.

“I’m here now,” she said quietly, though her voice still carried a hint of defiance. “But I’m not staying if you’re just going to push me away again.”

Negan met her gaze, his expression hardening once more, but there was something else in his eyes now—something almost like respect.

“Deal,” he said finally. “But don’t you ever pull that disappearing act again.”

The tension between Delilah and Negan didn’t evaporate overnight. If anything, it lingered like a storm cloud over the Sanctuary, heavy and charged. Negan didn’t treat her the way he did the others—not with the camaraderie he showed Simon or the almost fatherly respect he had for Franklin. And he certainly didn’t treat her the way he treated his wives, with their polished appearances and carefully curated roles.

Delilah was different, and that difference hung between them, unspoken but impossible to ignore.

Negan, for his part, seemed equally unsure of how to handle her. Some days, he treated her like nothing had happened, barking orders and teasing her with his usual sharp-edged charm. Other days, he sought her out for no apparent reason, leaning against a wall or a table as he asked her questions that felt far too personal.

“Why’d you really leave, Ghost?” he asked one evening, his tone unusually serious.

“You already know why,” Delilah replied, her voice guarded.

“Do I?” Negan pressed, his eyes narrowing. “Because it feels like there’s more to it.”

Delilah hesitated, her fingers tightening around the handle of her spear. She didn’t know how to explain the whirlwind of feelings that had driven her to leave—the isolation, the jealousy, the fear that she was losing herself in a place that demanded so much.

Instead, she shrugged. “I needed space.”

“You always keep to yourself like this?” he asked, dropping into the chair across from her.

“I alway did, since from the start or have you fogotten that too?” Delilah didn’t look up. “You’re one to talk.”

Negan chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “Touché. And the first thing you said? It’s not true”

They sat in silence for a while, the room dimly lit by the flickering glow of an old lantern. For once, Negan didn’t fill the space with his usual bravado. He just sat there, tapping his fingers against the table as if lost in thought.

“You know,” he said eventually, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re not as invisible as you think you are.”

Delilah looked at him then, her brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means people notice you,” Negan said, meeting her gaze. “Whether you like it or not.”

Delilah wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to brush it off, to say something sarcastic, but the sincerity in his tone stopped her. Instead, she nodded, her throat tight with emotions she couldn’t name.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the generator somewhere in the Sanctuary. Negan stood a few feet from Delilah, his posture less tense now but still guarded in hi seat. His dark eyes locked on hers, filled with a mixture of curiosity, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

Delilah took a deep breath, steeling herself. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“When I left,” she began, her voice quieter now, “I didn’t know where I was going. I just... I couldn’t stay here.”

Negan tilted his head slightly, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, I got that memo loud and clear, Delilah. But what I don’t get is why the hell you thought running off on your own was a good idea.”

Delilah ignored the jab, pressing on. “I wasn’t on my own. Not really. Orion was with me. And... I found something.”

Negan raised an eyebrow, his grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, this oughta be good. What’d you find? A pack of walkers to befriend? A unicorn? Lay it on me.”

She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile ghosted across her lips. “I found a community. They call it the Kingdom.”

That wiped the smirk off Negan’s face. His expression turned serious, his eyes narrowing as he leaned slightly closer. “The Kingdom?” he repeated. “That the place with the guy who talks like he’s straight outta a Shakespeare play?”

Delilah blinked, surprised. “You know about them?”

Negan chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, I’ve heard the stories. Never met the guy myself, but word travels. What’s his name... Ezekiel? The one with the pet tiger?”

Delilah nodded, a flicker of something like fondness in her chest. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Negan let out a low whistle, leaning back against the table. “A goddamn tiger. Now that’s one way to make an impression. So what, Ghost? You thinking of trading me in for Sir King Ezekiel and his merry band of knights?”

Delilah hesitated, unsure of how much to share. But there was something in Negan’s tone—a mix of sarcasm and genuine curiosity—that made her keep talking.

“It’s... different there,” she said carefully. “They’re not like us. They’re... kind.”

Negan’s grin returned, sharp and mocking. “Kind? You mean they don’t bash in heads with bats and make people work for a living? Sounds boring as hell.”

“It’s not boring,” Delilah said, her voice firmer than she expected. “They’re building something. A real community. Gardens, fences, people who look out for each other. They even have a school for the kids.”

Negan’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. Delilah pressed on, emboldened.

“It’s not perfect,” she admitted. “They’re still surviving, still scavenging, but... it feels different. Like they’re trying to hold on to something real. Something good.”

Negan scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Good doesn’t keep you alive, sweetheart. Neither does kind. Trust me, I’ve seen enough ‘good’ people get torn apart because they couldn’t make the hard calls.”

Delilah met his gaze, her chest tightening. “Maybe. But they’re still standing. And for a few days, it felt... safe.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of her words hanging between them. Negan’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his fingers drumming idly against Lucille.

After a moment, Negan let out a low laugh, though it lacked his usual mirth. “So, let me get this straight. You ran off, stumbled into Mr. Fancy Pants and his pet tiger, and now you’re back here, telling me about how great it was.”

Delilah frowned, bristling at his tone. “I came back, didn’t I?”

Negan’s eyes snapped back to hers, sharp and unreadable. “Yeah, you did. And you better believe I’m not exactly thrilled about that little detour you took. But... I gotta admit, you’ve got balls, Delilah. Walking away from me? That’s a dangerous game.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

Negan smirked, leaning closer. “Does it?”

Delilah didn’t flinch, holding his gaze. “Not anymore.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Negan laughed again, this time more genuine, shaking his head as if she’d just done something impressive.

“Damn, Lilah,” he said, his grin returning. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Delilah shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips at the new nickname. “You’re not exactly a picnic either.”

Negan’s expression softened slightly, his grin fading as he studied her. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “I get why you ran. Hell, if I were you, I might’ve done the same. But running doesn’t solve shit. You’ve gotta figure out where you stand, Lilah. You can’t keep floating around, pretending you don’t care.”

Delilah felt a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “I’m here now,” she said quietly. “That’s gotta count for something.”

Negan nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “It does. But I need to be sure. I need to trust you”

For the first time, Delilah saw something in Negan that she hadn’t before—a flicker of vulnerability, buried deep beneath the swagger and bravado. It didn’t make him any less dangerous, but it made him real.

[loungemermaid]

No.1 Everlark Shipper

for @jhsgf82, based off this post by @goldrushenthusiast and some of the tags/replies I left on there. crossposted to my ao3!!

We’re standing in the disgustingly hot July heat, the sun beating down on us, already burning the tops of our noses. Really, for the sake of all us Townies, the town square should be covered. I’m pale enough, but some of these kids, like little Lottie Sayers over there, are too white to be outside now. She looks like she’s going to burst into flames at any second. I look around at the sea of sweaty necks and brows, looking for a dark braid instead a blonde one. Not for me. For my idiot brother. Everdeen has her hair up in a crown of braids today, and she’s in a pretty little dress, shows off her little waist. The hair and dress make her look sweet, maybe flirty, but she’s (as always) scowling. Can’t imagine why Peeta likes her. She looks fuckin’ mean. Stuck up. Also, the fact she can kill things and drag ‘em through town? Something tells me you’d have to make sure you toed the line with her, or else. Kinda like how Mama is to him. Well maybe that’s it then.

I have heard about Everdeen for comin’ on Eleven Goddamn Years now. I know everything there is to know about this chick that can be known without actually saying a word to her, because he’s never said a word to her. I’ve seen the sketches, the letters, the truly awful attempts at poetry, the (admittedly, pretty good) pencil drawings that took weeks for him to finish scattered across our room for Eleven Years. I’ve heard the soliloquies(see, Mrs. Marks? I’m payin’ attention) practiced in the mirror, the grand planned gestures, the paper flowers and ribbons gathered and then abandoned after Sweetheart’s Day, every instance of young tender love and I could not be more sick of it. It ain’t-isn’t. Isn’t real. Not a lick of it. If it was, he’d talk to her. If she’s too scary, which again, she sure as shit looks that scary, maybe move on? Maybe pick someone different? Hell, it can even be another Seam girl, if that’s what he’s into. Leevy’s got that same little tits and long legs thing. And she actually smiles. But whatever. One day something will break it, and then I won’t have to fuckin’ hear it ever again. 

That weird Trinket woman is just about to pick the girl’s name, and I’m still wondering what it takes to get someone’s hair that big, that pink, that shiny when she reads out the slip. Primrose Everdeen. Well. Shit. I don’t know what this is gonna mean, when her little sister dies. When her dad died, Peeta talked for months about how we needed to help her. I kept telling him it wasn’t the time or place, that the last thing she needed was some over-enthusiastic Townie meddling in her shit. She already had it rough enough. We could tell she was taking care of everyone now. That her mama wasn’t doin shit, and she was the breadwinner now. I remember thinking it was weird, and how I couldn’t imagine it, then I thought about how that’s just what older siblings do. That that’s what Rye does for Peeta and me. A buffer for when Mama’s on the war path. Even when she ain’t-isn’t. Isn’t coming after me, he protects me all the same. She usually doesn’t come after me, and that somehow feels worse. I owe ‘em both a lot of beatings. Rye used to take the blame sometimes, but we all kinda quickly realized I could get away with significantly more than he could, and especially more than Peeta could, poor fucking kid. Never understood why she hates him so much.

There’s some screaming and shuffling, and I look over and there she is, her face showing real emotion for once, screaming that she’s volunteering. I can’t imagine that. How would you ever do that? And then it sinks in. Shit. Everdeen is gonna die. I look over at Peeta, who looks like he’s gonna spew. Shit. What am I even gonna say to him, when this is over? While we walk home?  Happy fucking birthday! That girl you’ve been obsessed with your whole life is gonna get gutted by some teen-freak Career. It’s too awful. I just sigh and brace for the boy’s name. Almost over. One more year of it for me, two for him. 

And then that pink and green bitch calls his name. I’m shocked. I can’t move, or see, or hear anything, and then it’s too late. He’s up on the stage and it’s too late. I can’t volunteer, can’t save him, can’t fix it. Once again he’s getting more punishment than his fair share. This kid that cries when he sees a hurt wild dog. That cried when he learned we ate our baby pigs. That’s been in love with the same girl for eleven years. The girl that’s going in with him. Shit!!! She’s going in with him!! They’re gonna die in there together. Well, I think darkly, they’re gonna have to talk now. 

I go and look for Rye, and we both just stare at each other. He’s not saying it, but he’s thinking it. “Yeah, I know. I should’ve. I… I couldn’t make the words come.” I hate myself.

I’m expecting him to scold me, to yell. Being the parent’s favorite makes me the least favorite brother. They neither one like me much. Well, that ain’t-isn’t true. They like me just fine. They’re just very jealous. I would be too, if I was-were gettin’ beat for minor shit that don’t even matter, and someone else wasn’t. I don’t expect him to hug me. He does, pulling me in close, even kissing my forehead like he did when I was little. I don’t even wipe it off this time.

“Hush. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do anything right neither.”

He smiles a little. “Either, you mean. But it doesn’t matter. It’s going to be okay. Besides, I think she’d kill him, if you went in instead. It wouldn’t be a good sacrifice. She’d hate him even more, especially if you didn’t come back.” He shook his head. “God help me for what I’m gonna say, but it’s better this way. If he comes back, JoAnn won’t think he’s worthless anymore. If he doesn’t”, his breath shudders, “if he doesn’t, well. Then she never touches him again.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. The one thing she only did to him. Rye got beat, sure. But he didn’t get touched like she touches Peeta. It… it’s not that she straight up sleeps with him. But it’s…uncomfortable, to even watch. Humiliating. Can’t imagine what it feels like. “Right. Well, ready to say” Oh I can’t say goodbye. I blink some rogue tears. “To send him off?”

“Yeah.” He says gruffly. “Yeah.” I can tell he’s thinking what I am. This is gonna be a shitshow.

It’s worse than I thought it’d be. We’re all standing there and not saying anything. Rye at least held him while he cried. JoAnn is world class, says something truly evil. Says she’s rooting for Everdeen, and if there was any fondness I ever had for that woman, it’s done. She runs out, even though all the rest of us are begging her to not. I scoff, but Peeta is laughing, no, cackling. Like nothing has ever been so goddamn funny. 

“Love you too, Mama! Hope I get to see you again!” He yells out, voice hard and bitter. “God. What the fuck?” He scrubs at his face, leans back, screaming and laughing and sobbing into his hands. 

Rye runs after our useless fucking parents, trying to talk sense into them. It’s pointless. Anyway, we’re almost out of time. Almost out of time. I can’t fuck it up again. 

“I know it ain’t great timing to be asking you a favor, but do one for me anyway?”

“God, Soren. What?” He sighs, clearly not in the mood for whatever he thinks I might say. I sit down on the saggy sofa, clapping his shoulder.

“I need you to tell her. Please. She deserves to know.”

He huffs, rolls his eyes. “It’s all a bit pointless, ain’t it? Nothing either one of us could ever do now.”

“Yeah, but I know you. You’d never be able to live with yourself if you never told her. So you’ve gotta. Find some way. Do one of those grand gestures you’re always planning. Or, fuck, I dunno, do it private. Over coffee or whatever. But tell her, little bun.” I’ve never called him that. Not sincerely, anyway. That’s what Dad and Rye(mostly Rye these days) call him. But, it felt right. “I’m really sorry I didn’t”

“Don’t be.” He cuts me off. “I get it. Don’t be sorry. In fact, promise me. You don’t get to feel guilty about it.”

I swallow hard again. The Peacekeepers are coming to take me away. I clap him on the shoulder one more time. “Alright. I love you. Uh, good luck and all that. And happy birthday”

It gets him to laugh, even if it’s just a dark laugh. “Thanks. Uh…see…mm. See you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.” I don’t know if I believe he will, but I know he can win this. I hope he does.

I try to keep my promise, of not feeling guilty, for not stepping up and going in for him. It’s not easy. Suddenly our room feels too big, too empty.  Rye and I haven’t moved a damn thing. There’s still a half finished drawing on the desk, a pair of silver eyes. I wanna puke everytime I see them. I do my homework downstairs in the bakery now. 

We’re closed on the day of the interviews. We close a little more now, though not as much as I thought we would. Dad hides, crying in long showers or disappearing on errands, and JoAnn, Rye and I are stuck in the bakery together, avoiding curses and rolling pins being hurled at us. Now that Peeta isn’t here, I’m getting on her nerves more. I’m sporting black eyes now too, though I don’t let them show. I can’t cover them like Peeta does, and I’m a little paler than him anyway, but the little tube of concealer he left behind does fine enough. 

We all sit on the couch, pretend to be a family over some tea and cookies. We’re eating more fresh, a result of the sympathy money. People have been spending a lot on baked goods here lately. The mayer orders a cake a week. Madge must know we’re feeding Prim and Mrs. Everdeen(Mama does too, and she hates it. Dad catches an ashtray to the nose for it). She likes Katniss too. 

Anyway, my baby brother is talking to Ceasar Flickerman, and they’re playing off each other like they’ve been co-hosts for decades. He’s charming. Affable. He could make this a career if…when he wins. And then Ceaser asks about a girl, his whole body shifts. He gets a little nervous, a little small, tries to shift the conversation but Ceaser ain’t having it. He pushes Peeta again. Say it say it say it, you little dork, or I swear to god. I’m staring at his face in the tv. Maybe if I think it hard enough he can somehow get it. You promised.

He clears his throat. “Well, there is this one girl…”

I sink back into the couch with a sigh of relief. There you go, bro. Took you long enough.

She even goes for it. When they change the rules(which I still can’t get over, but maybe young love is more exciting than child murder for those people.((if that’s the case, can we make it a matchmaking game? I’ll volunteer. I’ll host.)) I just don’t know if I trust it) and she’s up in that tree, screaming his name, I know it’s over. She likes him too. She tears through the Arena just to find him, looking very camouflaged and very dead by the river. He flirts, and she giggles and blushes. What? Maybe she’s just soft for him. Good. It’s what he deserves. Hard for everyone else but soft for him.

For a few days I’m worried I’m gonna have to watch my baby brother lose his virginity on national television, but as cuddly and kissy as Katniss is, she’s clearly not very experienced. She won’t change around him, she blushes every time they kiss. She’s actually sweet. A giggly, nervous, even precious little thing. She looks even tinier next to Peeta, so short and thin and fine boned. They fit each other. They’re striking together.

It’s all anyone can talk about, but for the first time I don’t mind hearing about it all. I join in at school, spilling all the secrets I know. It’s a little shitty, but I can’t help it. It’s so…excuse the dopey ass phrasing, but as one teacher said, life affirming to see. My homelife is worse, but if they really can win and win together, it’ll be like a real life miracle. Hard proof that not everything always has to completely fucking suck, all the time. That sometimes, good things happen to people. Sometimes good things happen to the people who deserve it the most. 

The berries give me a heart attack. I’m on the edge of my seat and I don’t think I breathe the whole time. I don’t know what to expect. Are they gonna let them live? Are they gonna blow them up? Send in mutts again? Let them live and torture them on the air? I almost shut my eyes, bracing for the canons, but instead Templesmith is shouting, telling them to stop, that they both won, and he did it. He actually did it. I’m jumping and screaming and laughing and we’re all hugging even, because he fucking did it. He won, and he got the girl of his dreams. This one time, it actually works out for him. This time, Peeta gets what he wants.

[burnwater13]

Boba Fett flying the Firespray and attacking the gang that attacked the Sand People of his tribe. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 4, The Gathering Storm. Calendar from DateWorks.

Grogu was confused. Were the Pykes the ones who went after the Sand People tribe that Daimyo Fett had been adopted by, or was it Nikto gang members, or was it some other gang that he’d never heard of? He wanted to ask the Daimyo, but he didn’t want to upset his friend. He didn’t want to ask Fennec because she would see it as an opportunity to get him to do work around the palace. She couldn’t trick that way again.

He knew that this was how gangs behaved. It was a tactic they used to support their overall strategy of making credits from confusion. First you blamed whatever you did on someone else. They you offered to protect people from them, although you actually did the thing they needed protection from, then you told the other guys that you were being paid to help the victims and would happily give way, if they paid you to look the other way. Ultimately you got both sides to pay you credits to stop you from manipulating them while you were still manipulating them. 

Ian said that this was just how the galaxy worked, when he and Grogu had that conversation after a particularly annoying lesson on ethics and rules. The lesson was annoying because Grogu didn’t understand why people thought being ethical was hard or confusing. Don’t cheat. Don’t lie. Don’t steal. Those were pretty simple concepts. When you take something that doesn’t belong to you that’s stealing. When you tell someone something is a certain way when you know it isn’t, that’s lying. When you convince someone that something never happened when it actually did, giving you an advantage, that’s cheating. 

Of course, that conversation was a long time ago and Grogu could still remember Ian telling him, ‘Listen Kid, one day you’ll wake up and everything will be different. You won’t have this nice home. You want have all you want to eat. You won’t have friends who look out for you. When that time comes you can tell me all about the ethics of taking an apple because you’re hungry and you have no credits. Until then, well, let’s just enjoy the good things we have. Okay?’

In so many ways, Ian was right about all of that. Grogu hadn’t really understood until then what Ian’s Force powers actually focused on. Then he knew that Ian could see the most likely future. What a horrible ‘power’. Any way, Ian had been right. The first time Grogu didn’t have anyone to provide food or shelter or even companionship, the whole notion of ethics slipped out of his mind like a frog slips into a pond. 

He had found himself taking things that he didn’t pay for. Tricking people into giving him things that they didn’t want to give him. Convincing people that he was not the Jedi they were looking for. Each time he did that he thought about Ian. How had he known how hard it would be to earn your keep? To find and make friends? To learn to do without? Ian was the most happy go lucky youngling Grogu had ever met. 

He was also the most ethically ‘grey’ youngling Grogu had ever met. Ian said he liked being referred to as ‘grey’ because he didn’t think many things were actually black or white. Sure hurting someone was wrong, but defending yourself from a bully wasn’t wrong, right? Sure, the bully might get hurt, but you didn’t really owe them that much consideration, did you? They were hurting you because they could. They volunteered.

Grogu had listened to his dad talk about what it was like to be a Mandalorian bounty hunter and how virtually everyone he ever brought was brought in cold. Some of them had been permanently cold. Like head in a bag cold. Grogu wasn’t sure if you could get much colder than that. Din Djarin told him that when he was a youngling he was told that people who fought Mandalorians chose the time and manner of their death and the least the Mandalorians could do was oblige them. Now that was cold. 

But was that unethical? Or were ethics situational or even cultural? Now that was confusing. 

He remembered talking to Master Beq about that, after his discussion with Ian. Master Beq had sighed and asked if Grogu really wanted to have a discussion like that right after consuming such a large meal. Grogu didn’t understand why he wouldn’t need all that energy to have a discussion that could influence his choices for the rest of his life. 

“You can think of ethics only in terms of what you can’t do, or you can look at them in terms of what you can do. Can you be kind? Can you be helpful? Can you be thoughtful? Can you make amends if you have failed at those things? There may be times when you take something to sustain your life and you have no way to compensate the person you took it from right then and there, but that doesn’t mean you forgot all about them or the debt you owe them. You must find a way to make amends. That is part of being balanced in the Force. Being a good Jedi is not just about avoiding doing wrong. It is also about actively doing what is right. If you keep that in mind you should be fine.  Also, keep in mind, Ian’s life before coming here was not the same as yours. We each bring ourselves to the Force. Bring the good and you will be well served.”

Grogu was glad that Master Beq’s advice was still useful after all this time. He would have to consider what he could do to make Tatooine a better planet. That probably wouldn’t be confusing at all.