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declareqenius · 2 months

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all the ashes in my wake

summary: part two of "some would sing and some would scream". wanda and natasha have several heated conversations while they wait for you to wake up. it's been days and both of them miss hearing your voice, and they know the last thing you would want to see is them fighting, but wanda can't help tearing into natasha for everything that happened. natasha's guilt eats away at her.

warnings: mentions of the violence in pt 1, coma

a/n: guys i really just wanted to get this one out. i haven't read through it/edited it so any mistakes are... well, mistakes. but hey! we get wanda in this one! i feel like i could have gone a little darker as far as wandanat are concerned, but we do what we can! i hope you enjoy!

The infirmary room is cold and sterile and a heaviness settles over the exhausted woman. Wanda keeps hold of your hand as if letting it go means that you'll slip away for good. She's careful of the IV stuck in the back of your hand giving you fluids. In a way, it serves as a reminder that blood still flows through your veins and your heart still beats, and that even though your bright smile and musical laugh don't fill the room, you're still alive.

Wanda brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn't know how many times she has done that in the past three days, but the gesture comforts her. Tucking your hair behind your ear so she can see your beautiful face better and looking into your sparkling eyes is one of her favorite things to do. Your gaze holds so much love and adoration and it always makes her wish she would never have to live without it.

Your eyes are closed now.

Wanda hates every second of it.

Bruce said that even if you don't respond that you can still hear everything. Wanda trusts that he's telling the truth and it wasn't something he said just to make her feel better.

So she talks to you. About anything and everything she can think of. Your favorite TV show that is on the air right now or the book that you recommended and she finally read. How much she loves you and how she can't wait for you to wake up. How sorry she is that she wasn't there sooner. She makes promises that she intends to uphold. Ones about revenge and torture and everything you would hate and tell her not to worry about were you conscious. Wanda smiles at the thought. She won't listen, though. The Celestials hurt her family. Hurt the love of her life. She can't let that go unanswered for.

Right now, though, you are her priority.

The door handle clicks and Wanda doesn't need to look up. She knows it's Natasha coming back from telling Steve and Yelena what happened. Can feel the exhaustion and guilt dripping from her without having to so much as glance in her direction.

"Wands-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Natalia. Sit."

Wanda nods to the unoccupied chair on the other side of the bed without taking her eyes off of you. She's being harsh and she knows it. Natasha was there with you. Right by your side. Made to watch as the leader of their enemies hurt you in the most sloppily calculated way. She was powerless against Najma and Wanda knows this, but all rationality left her when she burst into the cell and laid eyes on your bleeding body, slumped over, barely an ounce of life in you, and her anger nearly consumed her.

She almost leveled the entire block.

The only thing that stopped her was Natasha, carrying you in her arms, reminding her that time was scarce.

So yes, perhaps she is being too harsh with her wife, but somehow you had become their entire lives. Their reason for being. Neither of them would know what to do without you, and they came very close to losing you under Natasha's watch.

They will be okay eventually. They survived many fights and many arguments before you came along.

Tears form in Wanda's eyes.

"Yelena is wondering when she'll be able to see Y/N." Natasha's voice breaks the silence. It's rough and scratchy.

"After she wakes up."

Four words and Wanda can feel how they form on her tongue. Her Sokovian accent is thick with her anger and distress despite the words being spoken soft and firm.

"Wanda," Natasha starts to protest but the finality in her wife's tone makes her go quite.

"Nat."

It's then that Wanda decides to look up at Natasha. Decides to let her wife see her and every emotion that makes its way onto her face and every thought that swirls around in her mind.

Natasha pauses for a moment, taken aback by everything she sees her wife going through. The made-up scenarios. The what-ifs. She knows because she went through every last one of them when she was in that cell with you. To see the same thoughts cluttering Wanda's mind, well, it only makes her guilt worse.

She clears her throat, "Yelena is her best friend."

It comes out as more of a fact than an argument.

At that, Wanda turns her attention back to you, "I don't want anyone except for us and Bruce to see her like this. They don't need to."

"They want to know that she's okay, Wands."

"Tell them that she is. That she will be. That's all they need to know for right now. They need to focus on getting the jump on Najma and the Celestials. Our focus is Y/N. I think our family is capable enough to come up with a plan by themselves, don't you?"

Wanda's calmness is starting to make Natasha uncomfortable and she shifts in her chair. She refuses to touch you, though, afraid of what might happen if she did. Would your body crumble under her fingertips? If you were conscious would your body recoil at her touch? For letting you get hurt. For not protecting you like she should have.

Suddenly streams of tears silently make their way down Natasha's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Wanda's eyes meet hers again and Natasha feels like she can breathe a little easier. It isn't perfect and she guesses it won't be perfect for a long time, but time will help. The fear will linger within both of them because Natasha knows Wanda almost as well as she knows herself, and she knows that neither of them will be letting you out of their sight for a while after you wake up. Until Najma is taken care of, at least.

Wanda tilts her head as she tries to get a better read on Natasha without using her powers. Even if they would help in the moment she has rules for herself: never on Natasha and never on you.

"They caught you off guard. It is a hard position to be in, radnaja."

Darling. The pet name helps Natasha relax a little more, but her hands stay folded in her lap.

"We needed- I needed to protect her better. We promised to keep her safe and I couldn't do that, Wands. I failed her and I disappointed you and... and what if she decides to leave when she wakes up? I would be the reason we came so close to losing her... and then to actually lose her? I don't know if we could survive it."

"Nat... Y/N loves us with everything she is. Just as we love her. I need you to be confident in that."

Natasha wants to scoff but instead she fidgets with her hands, "Confident? In what, Wanda? That she'll wake up and we'll pretend everything is fine and that we're not the reason she almost fucking died?! That the two people she loves most in the world couldn't protect her like they promised they would? I was powerless Wanda! I couldn't stop them! I-" Natasha's tears flow freely and although the tension in the room is building, she feels safe enough to let herself go in the presence of her wife, "I couldn't save her!"

"Natalia Romanova-Maximoff!" Wanda stands for the first time in hours but she does not drop your hand. It's the only thing grounding her right now. "This is not entirely your fault, radnaja. Maybe if you would have kicked and punched more when they took you then we would be in a different position. Maybe if you had given Najma the answers she was looking for then Y/N wouldn't have been injured as badly as she is but these are all what-ifs, Natasha! What if I had been there with her instead? What if I had been with both of you that night? What if I would have gotten to you sooner? What if she had died!"

Finally, the question that has been on both of their minds since Bruce had walked into the meeting room with your blood all over his neatly ironed button up and jeans- he didn't have time to even think about putting his lab coat on- and told them that you would eventually be okay.

"I have been asking myself that question every day for the past three days," Wanda finishes, salt on her tongue, nose red, and her scarlet hoodie stained with tears.

Natasha cannot find it within herself to tell her wife the new information Bruce gave her in the meeting. While he operated and stitched until he could barely stand any longer; you flatlined once. Your heart decided to give up for a minute and Natasha hasn't had the proper amount of time to process something like that, but the time would never come for Wanda to be able to process the reality of such a thing.

Both women stare down at you with puffy eyes and red noses. You are the most precious thing in the world to them. They hate seeing you so lifeless, and the only wave of hope keeping them afloat is your steady breaths.

The fight has left both of them, but an air of tension remains. They are nowhere near finished with their conversation. With taking their frustrations out. Hopefully they'll have everything figured out before you wake up. Natasha knows how much you hate playing peacemaker when they actually have fights and really get going at each other, but she also knows that her wife can hold a grudge.

She doesn't think Wanda will actually hold a grudge after you wake up, but for now her anger and grief towards Natasha are the only things emotionally anchoring her to reality.

"I miss her, Wands," Natasha sniffs and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Me too, Natalia. Me too."

They sit in silence for a minute, taking everything in. There are no windows in the room and during the day that means zero sunlight. You always say that time in the sun is one of the most important parts of your daily routine, and it always helps you cool down when you're stressed out or in a bad mood.

Natasha is the first to break the silence, speaking directly to you.

"You are going to hate this room so much when you wake up, detka," she muses with the smallest smile.

Wanda only glances at her before turning her attention back to you and sitting down in her chair, trapped in her mind just as Natasha is, but not all hope is lost and for that, the older woman is grateful.

"Believe it or not, she was the calm one. During everything."

"Natasha."

Her name is said softly although there is still a warning behind it, but she needs this and she believes that Wanda does too. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

"Please, Wanda."

Wanda just sighs and nods, never taking her eyes off of you.

"Najma had me struggling within ten minutes. Begged her to take me instead and to let Y/N go. I don't know why I thought it would work, but I think I just wanted Y/N to know that even if I couldn't get us out of there in that moment... I was trying. I would keep trying."

Natasha's voice is still scratchy as her exhaustion slowly catches up with her.

"Y/N was so firm with me. She said not to tell Najma anything and she meant it. I don't think I've ever heard her be that direct before, but she left no room for argument. She knew what the information would do to the family because she... she sees us as her family, Wands." The redhead sniffs and wipes at her eyes when her tears return, making a prominent trail down her cheeks.

"We are all she has left and she means the world to us! And... and I let her down so much. So, so much, Wanda. She stayed so calm! She did so good! She talked to Najma. She had a conversation with the woman who had a knife to her cheek!" Natasha's laugh is reserved, but her features are shock-ridden and amazed, bordering on flabbergasted and anxiety-filled.

Wanda finally looks up at her wife. Natasha is starting to spiral and there is no way to stop it other than just letting her get it all out, so the Sokovian keeps listening to and watching her wife. The recount of events is told with animated hand gestures and tears gliding down Natasha's cheeks, and Wanda's heart clenches.

"We were doing so well. She was doing so well. Then, Najma stabbed her and my heart dropped. I thought it was over. I thought we had lost her for good." The hand gestures come to an abrupt halt and the tension in the room is once again palpable, but not so much as before.

Natasha looks down at you with pleading eyes, "Please forgive me, malyshka," she drops to both knees and finally takes your hand in hers and whispers, "please."

She kisses the back of your hand delicately and you can feel each tear drop as they land in the exact spot she kissed. There is no need to wonder why your girlfriend is crying. You remember everything.

Your eyes slowly blink open to see Natasha's own eyes closed and Wanda staring at her wife with a thoughtful expression. The love they have for each other makes you want to smile, but the urge to reassure your sobbing mob boss girlfriend wins.

"I..." talking hurts but you need to say the words. Natasha needs to know! "Forgive... you. Always... Natty."

#wandanat x reader #some would sing and some would scream #some of you might be mad about the ending #HOWEVER #nat needed that so badly guys #reader will play peacemaker eventually i promise

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chrisevansonly · 7 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

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invisiblestringmm · 1 year

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chapter one

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought

pairing: fem!reader x mason mount

summary: A one night fling that turned into the reason of your whole life, then a month of falling in love with him… until he ghosted you. Mason was never there to watch her grow, completely unaware of his daughter’s existence. It was just you and Lilian Maisie against the world until fate decided play with you and change that — now you have to face the consequences of your decision to keep him out of her life for almost five years. And also try not to fall for him again when he reveals to be the best dad to your little girl.

author: I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Thank you for sticking around, it means a lot!

warnings: this chapter contains fluff, angst, mentions of a tough pregnancy, language.

word count: 4.879k

Watching her was one of your favourite things to do; the way the soft dark brown curls bounced as she swayed around the living room, the way her cheerful laugh echoed every corner of the house and those big, brown eyes sparkled with pure innocent bliss - Lily was your everything, she was your whole life and though, at first, being a young single mum terrified your entire being, she became the reason of your existence. It felt like a lifetime, but it was just four years before that day that you were sitting where your dad was, on that large and comfortable armchair, with your feet up as you stared at a tummy poking out. You remember how that was the first time after finding out you were pregnant that you went from miserable to somewhat joyous to know a tiny human was growing inside you.

FOUR YEARS BEFORE

Every little thing bothered you to the point you’d grab the first object in front of you and throw it against the wall. Your hormones were everywhere, the nausea was unbearable and you knew it was a matter of time until you’d find yourself with another IV fluid bag hanging on your bedside. Four months of what had already earned the first place on your “lifetime worst experiences” list, when it shouldn’t be like this. You should be happy, and thrilled, planning your days and making a list of potential boy and girl names for your child. But you weren’t, considering this was far from what you expected of your first pregnancy.

The long sigh that parted your lips clashed against the daunting yet peaceful silence that took over Foxwoods House the minute your parents went out for grocery shopping after you insisted you’d be fine on your own for a few hours and how much you needed it. Even if they meant well and were just making sure you were healthy enough to be on your feet, all the attention could be suffocating, though their attention wasn’t focused only on you. Though exhausted, you tried your best to focus on relaxing once your eyes closed.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Slowly, you felt lighter, your body finally relaxing on your dad’s favourite armchair, and, unconsciously, your hands rested on your stomach and your eyes shot open when you noticed that there was something there that wasn’t the last time you touched it. Avoiding any kind of touching, talking, and staring at yourself in the mirror had been your way of coping with your new reality, even if it wasn’t a smart way of doing it. It wasn’t easier, either.

“Oh hello,” you whispered, poking your tummy with your index finger. “I don’t think you can even listen to me yet, but… can you bear with me, peanut? Hm?” Brushing your thumb against your skin, your eyes burned with tears. You wanted things to work out, you wanted that kid to be born into a healthy environment even if it included just you — of course, your parents would be there, but in the end, you’d be a single mum. The idea of it terrified you but, deep down, you could feel some courage sparkling.

“I’m still new to this mummy thing, and I hope you’ll like me once you’re here with us, running around… but I promise you that I'll do my best.”

Finally, you allowed the tears you were holding to fall, wetting your cheeks as you sniffed and quietly rubbed your stomach. For the first time since the pregnancy test was positive, you felt love engulfing you most softly. You felt peace and a strong motivation to fight for your child’s happiness. You’d be their best friend, the first person they’d think of whenever they needed something or whenever they were happy, sad, or confused. You’d be their everything because, as you watched that tiny bump, you realised they were your everything too.

PRESENT DAY

The final whistle blow and the loud groan that parted your dad’s lips brought you back from memories of the early and hard pregnancy days.

It wasn’t the first time you watched your dad so upset that England was out of another World Cup, but this time Lily mimicked everything he did and as torturing as it was to watch, it was also funny. Both clapped their hands in front of the TV, mumbling words of encouragement to the squad though they obviously couldn’t hear it. Lily was dressed in her England kit, one of the many your dad bought her along with Arsenal kits, as he was a die-hard gunner and used to take her to most of the matches with him. There was no way Lily would grow up without football being such a huge part of her life. It was part of her and who she was, it was in her DNA - even if no one but you and your best friend knew about that.

Watching the scene in front of you became harder when he was on your dad’s big flat screen, and though your daughter was mimicking her grandad, she was the spitting image of him. Her dad.

For the past four years, you’ve found yourself doing your best to run from him but Mason Mount was pretty much everywhere you looked, being Chelsea’s star boy and part of the England squad. It hurt you, it opened a wound that you fought so hard to heal but he had to come back to haunt you now and then. You’d turn your look away, turn off the TV, and ignore his face whenever you drove by Stamford Bridge - but he was everywhere. He was on Lily’s face, bottom nose, and all. And, as far as you reminisced of his laugh, hers sounded identical.

It hurt, it cut deep, and it made you swallow hard the horrible sensation that effortlessly took full control of you - so you had to inhale and exhale at a slow pace as soon as your sight blurred. Mason not being there for her still made you feel vulnerable, and not good enough for your daughter for you often felt like you were keeping her from being happier as she was always mentioning how much she wished her daddy was around, and you had either to make up dumb excuses or distract her with something else. You’d often listen to her through the baby monitor, crying out in whispers for her daddy - it always sounded like she was praying.

The warmth of your mum’s touch, softly squeezing your arm, made you feel slightly better and safe. She didn't know who Lily's dad was, but she knew what went through your mind whenever you spent too long gazing at your daughter. Not knowing the full story never stopped her from fully understanding you - she was a mum too.

“I'm alright,” you reassured her before she could say something, and watched her lips form a delicate line as a reaction to your words. She knew you were far from being alright - with Lily asking more questions than ever about her dad - but didn’t know what to say. It was something she’s never been through and thought you were both brave and a bit stupid for dealing with it all on your own, when even your dad, who wasn’t as warm as her, was entirely supportive since Lily became part of your lives. You adored them even more for being so respectful of your decisions.

“I never judged you and I never will, and I still wish you’d talk to me as you’ve always done… including anything affecting my granddaughter,” your mum confessed, doing her best to hide she was a bit upset, but failing miserably.

You nodded, moving your stare from Lily to your mum. “I see him every time I look at her, and it hurts me.”

“Because you still have feelings for him?”

“I don’t,” you were as quick as possible on clearing that question, it felt like a lifetime ago that Mason was the reason for the butterflies in your stomach and he managed to end that himself with his stupid behaviour. “It hurts me because my daughter is being deprived of a life with her father around.”

“You can always find him and tell him,” your mum moved her hand from your arm to your back, rubbing it softly.

“It’s not-” you sighed, brows furrowed, as your eyes searched for Lily again. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s always simple, love. As a mum, you know it’s always simple when it comes to making your child happy.”

Always the optimist, your mum pecked your cheek before leaving you alone with your thoughts. Not knowing the truth never stopped her from giving you advice that’d often feel right, but so wrong at the same time. If Mason was any other normal guy, you would’ve let him know the day Lily was born and you held her in your arms for the first time, seeing how much she looked like him.

You would’ve let him know the day she took her first steps.

You would’ve let him know the day she screamed her first word - a loud, cheerful “goal” when Arsenal scored, making your dad the proudest grandad in the world.

You would’ve let him know the day she kicked a ball for the first time.

You would’ve let him know because you’ve always wanted Mason around, simply for being around and raising that beautiful girl as best as you both could. But there you were, doing it practically alone.

“Mummy,” Lily woke you up from your thoughts, softly pulling your sweater while curiously staring at you with her big hazel eyes. She giggled when you took her in your arms, sitting her on the kitchen counter with her little legs around your waist. “Are you sad it’s not coming home?”

“Well, baby… I’m a bit sad because grandpa is sad,” you watched her pout, nodding in agreement, as you played with her hair around your fingers. “Why don’t you go there and give him all the smooches in the world, huh? Maybe that’ll cheer the old man up a bit.”

Lily nodded again, a bit more cheerfully this time and you put her back down, watching her rush to her grandpa he nestled her in his arms as she kissed his face and squeezed his cheeks with her chubby hands. The truth was you were more than glad that the torture was finally over, with no more of him on your TV while your dad proudly cheered for England and, consequently, for Mason whenever his gorgeous face showed up.

For the rest of the weekend, you enjoyed the cosiness of Foxwoods House and that included long walks with Lily, baking with your mum, and playing poker with your dad while you shared half a bottle of whiskey - one of many in his collection.

Although you loved London, a life away from the city’s fuss had always been your goal, even more so after Lily was born so you’d often take advantage of your parents owning that huge estate and drive to Cotswolds to enjoy a few quiet days with your girl. You could tell how much she loved, always bringing up that there were just two things that’d make your getaway even more perfect: her daddy and a puppy. Usually, you’d just give her a smile as an answer and kiss her forehead, but on your drive back to London you thought about how Foxwoods would be such a great place for some family time.

On Monday, you quietly walked into the usual warmth of your office, only nodding at a few colleagues who cheerfully welcomed you back after a disappointing weekend for football fans. You spotted Willow, your childhood friend, walking towards you with two mugs of the steamy coffee you always shared in the morning in each hand, and a smile splattered on her face - to which you frowned, because Willow had never been the one in a good mood in the morning.

“I’m guessing you had a fun weekend?” You asked, taking a mug from her hand and closing the door behind you as she made herself comfortable by sitting in the armchair by the window.

“You’d know if you returned my calls, Y/n.”

“And you know how my dad is,” you shrugged, feeling your body happily welcome the hot liquid. A large dose of caffeine and chatting with your best friend was always the best way to start the day, and you were lucky to work in the same place as he – just a few doors away as you two were responsible for different departments at the Swedish fintech you’ve been working for a couple of years. “No phones allowed when it’s Foxwoods weekend unless it’s-”

“An emergency,” she chuckled. “I know, I know.”

“So?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell you whatever she had to tell, as you lazily checked a few emails.

“I was feeling a bit bored on Saturday morning and decided to go to Paris.”

“Willow, you’re so fucking random…” You sighed and she rolled her eyes.

“Met with Arthur there, and we spent the weekend together.”

Arthur, her longtime french fling, the idiot who only showed up when he wanted something from poor delusional Willow.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, because I’m not,” you moved your eyes from the laptop screen to your friend, who still had that same smile on her face. “Why are you so happy, though?”

“I met his parents.”

“He introduced you to them?”

Then, when she sighed, you knew it wasn’t as she wanted you to believe and she was making a fool of herself again for a guy who just wasn’t interested. This time, there wasn’t a single trace of pride for being right, because it meant your best friend was now hurt. Deeply hurt. You watched her nervously chew the inside of her cheeks, sipping her coffee and looking out through the window as if there was anything fascinating outside.

“Hey,” you called her, bright green eyes looking at you. “Lily’s ballet recital is right before Christmas and rehearsals start today. Come with me.”

Finally, she flashed you a smile; one you loved seeing for a sad Willow made no sense as she’s always been the happiest person in your life, always cheering up everyone and looking after people while you looked after her, so she’d be fine too. The bond you two shared became stronger when you found out you were pregnant, and Willow had been there since day one - appointments, baby shopping, days you spent at the hospital due to HG¹, and sleepless nights when it hit you that Lily would grow up without her dad around. There was no one like Willow, she was the sister you never had.

You wrapped up work a bit earlier than usual so you’d, for once, make it in time for your daughter’s ballet class. It wasn’t unusual for your mum to pick her up from school and take her to classes, and even so, sometimes you’d arrive 10 minutes after all the mums had picked up their little ones once class was over. It made you feel horrible seeing Lily there, anxiously waiting for you, and getting overly enthusiastic when spotted you arriving at the studio - she’d smooch your entire face, and tell you how much she loved and missed you.

“Mummy,” she called you, squeezing your hand as you walked to the studio with Willow on your side. Looking down, you smiled so she’d continue. “Ice cream after ballet?”

How could a wrong choice in life guide you to this? To her? Almost four years later and it still overwhelmed you, because you never believed you had that unique thing that’d make you a mum, but somehow, you managed it just fine — with extra help from your family and friends, unquestionably, but at the end of the day it was just you and Lily. And her fish, of course. The only pet you allowed her to have for now, so she’d start to have some sort of notion of commitment.

“We’ll see about that, peanut, but if we go then it’s on auntie Willie.” Lily giggled as a reply, entertained by the funny scowl on her godmother’s face for she knew that auntie Willie would do anything and everything she asked.

“I’ll pay if you eat dinner first, Lils!” Willow said, and Lily sighed in return, as if her life was the most complicated she now had a tough decision to make.

She remained in silence for a while as you chatted about work with Willow, an important deadline approaching right before Christmas break and she knew someone would have to interfere or the firm would lose such a significant client like Nike. You thought that was the issue of making partnerships with companies that had their marketing branch and the ideas had to match.

That gentle hand squeeze was there again, Lily looking at you with her big, brown eyes that softened your entire being. “Mummy,” she called. “Can Summer come too if we go get ice cream?”

Summer, the ballet bestie you never met because you always dropped Lily at the studio later than the other kids normally arrived, and she was gone before you went back to the studio to pick up your daughter. You only knew what she looked like because one day Lily came home with a cute Polaroid picture of the two of them, taken by Miss Albright, the teacher. Your heart melted a little at how precious that was, the two girls clutching each other, tiny chubby arms around each other and big smiles on their faces — you could even swear they looked alike, maybe that was a bestie thing.

“First I have to meet her mummy and make sure she trusts me, so she feels safe to leave her baby girl with me.”

“Just like you do, mummy?” You nodded, a big proud smile on your lips at how easily Lily understood things. “My legs are tired.” She said, completely changing the subject and stretching both arms at you so you could carry her but Willow was faster and nestled Lily in her arms.

“A ballerina with tired legs? Oh my,” Willow faked a shocked expression, hands on her chest as she gasped, getting a cheerful giggle from Lily. You loved how she closed her eyes and tilted her head back whenever she laughed - your chest clenched at her adorableness.

“I played footy at school today, auntie.” Lily covered her mouth with her small hand, letting out a loud yawn. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, sharing a look full of meaning with your best friend as Lily laid her head on Willow’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Mr. Martin said I’m good.” She mumbled.

Of course, she was good. How could she not be good at something that was part of who she was?

Willow gave you a comforting smile, knowing how much this could affect your mood, as you walked in silence into the ballet studio; a smiley Miss Albright welcomed you, gently pinching Lily’s chubby legs with a kind smile curling her lips. She was the most loving and understanding lady.

Lily quickly awakened from her short nap, impatiently wiggling her legs in the air so Willow would put her down. She stormed out to meet her classmates after blowing you and Willow a kiss - you left out a soft gasp, allowing the blissful effect that your daughter had on you to fully embrace you. Lily was constantly full of energy, always beaming, brightening the room every time she walked in.

Like her daddy, who had no idea about her existence.

A soft poke on your shoulder woke you up from your thoughts and you turned around to face a heavily pregnant woman accompanied by, apparently, her mum, considering they looked a lot like each other. They were both smiling at you, and the youngest pointed at your daughter, who was now clutching a little girl.

“Which of you are Lily’s mum?”

“Guilty,” you raised a hand, eyebrows softly furrowed as you let out a giggle. Taking another peek at the two little ballerinas, you frowned at how indeed they looked alike. It was easy to identify that one. “I assume that’s Summer, and you’re her mum?”

“Jasmine, but you can call me Jaz,” you shook hands, smiling at each other. She introduced you to Debbie, her mum, and you introduced her to Willow who quickly engaged in a cheerful chat with the woman.

“I’m Y/n. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Lily just won’t shut up about Summer,” you giggled, thinking of the never-ending talks about how your daughter’s ballet bestie is the… best.

“She’s Summer’s current favourite person,” Jasmine said, linking her arm to yours and walking you to where the other mums were. That sudden loving gesture made a soft smile curl the sides of your lips - you weren’t friends with other mums, especially the ones from school. They were so hard to bond and you missed having someone else - who wasn’t your mum - who’d understand your daily routine of wonderful moments and struggling as a mum.

It was easy being around them, your mum arrived at the studio shortly before class started, and quickly bonded with Debbie about the wonders of being a grandmother; how they both spoiled the girls and were spoiled by them.

The rehearsal went on fine, full of the cuteness of 4-year-old girls in baby pink tutus. You were happy to be there, so you could see how happy your daughter was as she occasionally waved between clumsy pliés and pirouettes. Nonetheless, she was a natural, and you weren’t being too biased — as a ballet dancer herself, Willow made sure to point out all the right things Lily was doing. Watching Lily so focused on everything Miss Bennett said, all the instructions she gave, and how your little one did everything so clumsy yet so perfectly made your eyes burn a little with some tears. You’d still think she was the most perfect creature even if she wasn’t your daughter.

Once the rehearsal ended, you spotted Lily yawning and blinking heavily, but you knew she’d remember the ice cream. Sometimes, you couldn’t negotiate nor change the little one’s mind, and she got all that stubbornness from you.

“Mummy,” she started, and you took her in your arms, pressing soft kisses all over her face as she giggled.

“I know, my little monster. I didn’t forget your ice cream.”

When you invited your mum and best friend for dinner, they both apologised over and over, saying their time off had been exclusive to Lily’s rehearsal and they had to go — your mum, to your dad, because even after 30 years together they just couldn’t stay away from each other; and your best friend, back home, because she needed to meet her dad for dinner. That was when, kindly, Jaz invited you and Lily for Italian at a place she loved; when your daughter looked up to you with her best puppy eyes and the biggest pout she could pull off, you couldn’t say no. Lily knew very well that most of the time she did that you’d quickly say yes, the dimples showing up when she pouted made your heart melt.

And you were also looking forward to seeing your daughter and her new bestie interacting as if they were two adults, which happened, for your amusement. Though you were engaged in chatting with Jaz and Debbie, who were two sweethearts, you couldn’t help but feel completely hypnotised by how Lily behaved throughout the whole time you spent at the restaurant; she shared a colouring book with Summer and they both talked about school, ballet shoes, and pink tutus.

Bonding with the two women was easy, especially with Jaz. You found out that Lily and Summer almost shared a birthday, with your daughter being just a few days older than hers; that you both had big families although you were an only child and she had three siblings. Debbie quickly explained that the siblings part was a bit complicated, but easy to understand, and in the end they were all family; she didn’t get into a detailed explanation, though, which you didn’t mind for it kept you from having to share something just because they shared too, although you noticed some curiosity sparkle in Debbie’s eyes when you mentioned it was just you and Lily living in a brand new flat that had more space. Your father kept teasing you about giving his favourite girl a puppy for Christmas, and you knew it’d end up in more than just teasing so you’ve decided that more space would be needed considering Lily wanted a golden retriever.

“Don’t forget about Moana, mummy!” The fish, your daughter remembered, to which you just nodded with a smile on your lips.

You watched Lily having her strawberry ice cream as if there was no tomorrow, and you could only hope all that sugar wouldn’t keep her from falling asleep right after you bathed her or it’d be a long night trying to calm her down from a sugar rush. Jaz was going through the same struggle as she watched Summer; you noticed her eyes widening a bit but she giggled each time her daughter hummed in delight with one spoon after another of her chocolate ice cream.

When you said your goodbyes after sharing the bill, and before you left, Debbie kindly invited you and Lily over on Saturday for lunch, so the girls could spend a day together, playing, something they didn’t get the chance to do yet.

“Jaz will have her mocktail and I can make us some mojitos,” the woman said; Lily looked at you again with her pleading brown eyes, blinking heavily as she let out a long yawn.

“We’d love that, Debbie.”

After exchanging phone numbers and Instagram accounts, you went in different directions of the street - you wanted to squeeze both Lily’s and Summer’s cheeks when they blew each other a kiss after a long hug. Happiness washed over you seeing that it wasn’t hard for your daughter to make friends, and bond, even if not having her father around clearly affected her behaviour sometimes, often noticing that she, sometimes, was a bit needy and clingy - but also extremely kind and sweet.

Soon, you were home and while Lily went straight to her bedroom to pick clean pyjamas, you quickly fed her fish and met your daughter already waiting for you in the bathroom; ready for her bubble bath. Even clearly tired, she chatted the whole time, telling you how much she enjoyed dinner and that Summer was her best friend in the world - she also thanked you for being an incredible mummy and allowing her to spend Saturday with her friend, which made you swallow a sob at how adorable your daughter was. Raising that wonderful little girl mostly on your own was tough, but moments like this were proof of the fantastic job you were doing.

Thankfully, after properly tucked under the covers, Lily mumbled an ‘I love you mummy’ and quickly fell asleep. You gently pressed your lips against her forehead, getting a sigh from her in return as if she had been waiting for it; when you walked into your bedroom, flickering heavily as you yawned, Lily was already snoring lightly - you chuckled at the baby monitor. You showered, switched into your pyjamas, and decided to check on your social media once you found yourself after the covers: there was a text message from Jaz but it was too late for a reply, and she also followed you on Instagram; you smiled at a picture of Summer in a pink tutu and of another one where the little one was between her parents, a wide smile, and her tiny arms was over their shoulders.

But you wish you had never met Jasmine, or that your daughter had never met Summer at all when you found a picture of her entire family at a stadium, all of them dressed in England jerseys and a familiar face in the middle was on your screen when you decided to zoom in on the photo. You dropped your phone on your stomach, feeling your mouth instantly drying and your eyesight blurring - if you weren’t already in bed, the weakness you felt spreading from your legs through your body would bring you to the floor.

Breathe, Y/n.

That was Mason, and it didn’t take you much to realise who precisely he was. Or who Jasmine was.

Mason was her brother.

Not believing what your eyes just saw, you went back to scrolling through her Insta and you felt your whole body trembling now, tears filling your eyes and rolling freely down your cheeks; there were a bunch of pictures with him, of the entire family on Christmas, of him with Summer. You felt the urge to vomit, your heart pounding against your chest so loud you could nearly listen to it.

Mason was her damn brother.

Mason, the father of your daughter.

Lilian Maisie.

********* words:

HG: hyperemesis gravidarum: A severe type of nausea and vomiting during pregnancy.

#mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount series

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

So this is an ongoing argument with my roommate. I (22nb) am autistic, and T (55f) has ADHD.

Now to get this out of the way, i do say thank you. I was always taught to wait a moment after receiving something, take a bite or appreciate what you were given for a breath, before thanking someone so that you could add something more to it. My roommate and I both agree that i do say thank you the vast majority of the time, but the problem for her is that i do not say it fast enough.

T often gives me a "tHaNk yOu" while the item in question is still being passed. This seems ridiculous to me as i haven't even been fully given it yet.

In addition, i have the dishes as my household chore, and i do them daily, despite almost never making any dishes myself. I do this to both support T and her diet, as well as contribute to the household that i live in.

T thanks me near daily for doing the dishes. This always seems weird and unnecessary to me, as it is my responsibility. I have told her this. I dont expect to be thanked for doing my own laundry, after all. In return, T gets upset that i dont notice and thank her for taking out the garbage/recycling/compost, to which she is the main contributor to and is under her responsibilities.

As for please: i do say this much more rarely. I think it feels overly preformative and fake, and i typical choose more "would you mind closing my door for me" "if its not too much of a hassle, could you toss me my waterbottle" "id appreciate it if you could preheat the oven while you're in the kitchen"

I think that these work perfectly fine as a replacement. Please just has always felt wrong and fake. No one else in my entire life has ever commented on this before.

Thirdly; T has been upset that i don't respond to her apologies appropriately. After she is snappy at me (due to her emotional disregulation from ADHD) (last time it was because i asked if she was using the oven instead of asking if i could use the oven myself, for reference) there is a 50/50 shot that she will come and apologize.

I dont often accept apologies. Apologies are for the person saying them to get it off their chests, or to make you put it behind them. Usually, ill say something like "it was just one of those days, y'know?" Or "its alright, water under the bridge"

Because i was always taught that apologies came with a promise of change, and T can't (or won't) change how she re-directs her frustration at unrelated things to things ive done "wrong". When she told me the correct response was "i forgive you", i decided to not engage instead of telling her directly that i didnt forgive her (because i am certain she will do it again). (I usually dont engage with her when shes irritated: she never notices and just wants to say her piece so im not being rude here)

She said that i was being disrespectful, "like always", and when i suggested it may be more difficult for me due to my autism, she said that we made plenty of accommodations for me (which i think is false), and that i just needed to do this for her comfort. That please/thank yous were something she needed to feel appreciated and i should be making more accommodations for her.

To me, i feel like she is getting really caught up on semantics and is being a little controlling about it. But maybe its just a boundary? I dont know if i could commit to changing my language for her though, i feel like i will just start forgetting after awhile because it feels so fake. Shouldn't it be better for me to say things genuinely than just for her approval?

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

#aita #am i the asshole

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nyxyxx · 5 months

Text

Godly Desires - Part 5

Disappeared for a while for holidays and stuff. Happy New Year folks. This chapter is quite short but the good parts come next so that's exciting. (Also with a little bit of lore hehe). I. II. III. IV. V. Warning: This series will contain yandere content and religious themes.

"The City of Wind"

In the woods, stirring from its ancient slumber was a darkness so wicked and vicious, the very life that surrounded it began to wither and decay, rotting away from its presence alone. This darkness, it had a mind of its own, yet had no name to accompany it. Perhaps it once had a name, but said name has been long lost in the archaic oceans of time. Sunk deep within the waters of the world, lived a name so egregious, that uttering it would only bring about misfortune.

There was a prophecy to be told about this darkness. An ancient prophecy, one that was older than the gods themself. A legend told from within the land, an old story that was soon to be unearthed. Though this story would very soon present itself, discovered in the depths of the sea, now is not the time.

"It is the calm before the storm, my love."

"Stop right there!" A young girl emerged from the trees and promptly ran towards you. Dressed in red, white and brown, alongside the pyro vision at her hip, it was the ever-so recognizable Outrider Amber. She stood in front of you, with an air of justice and gentleness. "May the anemo God protect you, stranger!" She announced, suspiciously gazing over your strangely dressed self. "I am Outrider Amber, of the knights of favonius, and who are you?"

"Oh uh...I'm [___]"

Amber simply stared at you in silence, looking a lot different than her typical self. Almost like she was thinking really hard about something, but also staring at you. Noticing how weird she was being, she kinda just turned away from you, her ears tinted a little pinkish.

...

There was somewhat of an awkward silence following. You gave her a fake name, as Diluc had mentioned it may be a good idea to do so, though you found it to be quite strange. Still, this was just way too awkward. Why wasn't she responding? Did you already do something wrong?

"Oh um...right. Where was I..." Amber snapped back into her usual persona, and thus you carefully explained your situation to her, keeping a few things hidden, but otherwise being truthful. She seemed to relax after a while of talking to her, even opening up a little bit.

"If you'd like, I can take you to the city, there have been lots of monsters in the area recently." She said, a little bit shy. It was uncalled for, but since she was offering you her company, you accepted happily.

Reaching the gates of the city, you glanced up at the sky. Though you had seen Mondstadt many times it looked so much more beautiful in person. Maybe your dream just had such great detail to it. Amber hastily showed you around, though it was mostly unneeded, as the entire city felt so familiar, to you. She quickly mentioned that she had to get back to work, and hoped that you had a good time while you remained in Mondstadt.

You couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something that you were missing. Some important reason that you had to come here. Like you had been sent here for some purpose that you can't quite remember. You tried really hard to think of what that could've been, but attempting to do only led to your head hurting.

Well, you were here anyways. You might as well try and find something fun to do. So, swallowing those strange feelings, you decided to try someplace that might be interesting. The local tavern, perhaps.

Taglist: @justyoureader; @mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa; @yu-ulda; @c3rtifiedsimp; @eravariety; @vianitry; @dulcedelechenginamo; @reveihehe; @liansh3ng; @angelofdarkness2; @yarabutterfly;

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau cult au #genshin cult au #genshin impact x reader #sagau x reader #cw yandere #sagau #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact

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hornyjorny · 1 month

Text

following the river

summary: almost a frame-by-frame fanfic of river's scene in-game, but better :3 ish!! an- guys i am so fucking sorry i haven't posted in fucking AGES i've been absolutely dogged with work n shit and i'm depressed as fuck. anyway. here's to my loyal river fans (all twelve of us) hashtag justice for river ward ive literally spent months on this for no reason warnings- smut (18+ mdni), cowgirl, first time, you're both nervous as fuck, multiple positions, switch!v, switch!river, fucking the police, johnny ment, oral (f receiving and very brief lol), missionary, mild angst with cavity-inducing sweetness at the end, river and v are very much in love, cuddles

wc: 9.2k

If you had told yourself you’d be spending the night with an NCPD badge a month ago, you woulda’ laughed in your very own fuckin’ face. But between those heated kisses and those soft, hushed whispers, River Ward leads you by the hand into the silence of his bedroom— and it all feels far too unreal.

But the truth is, reality is a bitch. And now here you are, tangled in a contradiction of your own making. Guess you misunderstood the whole “FUCK THE POLICE” thing.

He oughtta be chasing you down, not holding you close. But fuck, this whole situation with River is just so thrilling, and it’s absolutely undeniable that he’s more than just some badge.

There’s kindness, there’s goodness in him that transcends that old, dumbass uniform he used to wear. Night City may be bleeding, and Johnny Silverhand may be a relentless presence in your head, but River offers something more—a promise of a future beyond the consistent chaos as he leads you into the quietness of the trailer.

To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re entirely in love with River— sure, you’re attracted, and sure, your heart beats a million times faster when he’s around, and sure, you think about him all the fucking time, but shit, you don’t know love. But fuck, whether you deserve it or not, there’s just something about him, you don’t know what feels… safe.

River represents something you’ve never really had: hope. The hope for a promise of an actual future— a real-ass life. Not just surviving but living— happily, at that.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

Never before have you encountered someone as gentle, as fucking sweet as River. His kindness, his sincerity, it's like a lifeline amid chaos. But with each tender moment, each stolen kiss, you can't shake the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at you. Oh, how you don’t want to feel this way, but here you are regardless, falling and falling for River, and allowing yourself to embrace the sensation of being vulnerable in more ways than one. And oh— is it such a bad time to catch feelings; your time on this earth is limited.

You’re a merc, one with a ticking timebomb of a narcissistic rockerboy lodged into your head, just waiting to take over your body, waiting for you to finally kick the bucket so he can take control. You’re not exactly girlfriend material. You’re neither beautiful nor are you admirable. You are tired. You are bruised.

You're a mercenary, a killer by trade, and here you are, falling for a cop—a man dedicated to upholding the law you so often break.

You know you should push River away, distance yourself before it's too late. But goddamn it, you can't bring yourself to do it.

It’s almost funny, you think. Funny to have found a love oh-so-precious—oh-so beautiful, only to have it ripped away from you by a little piece of plastic nestled in your skull. River’s warmth, his unwavering support, it's all both a blessing and a curse. You desperately want to hold onto this love, to cherish every moment you have left, but the knowledge that your time is running out gnaws at your very soul.

You sigh. Fuck, you know you can’t think about this now— you know it’s best to enjoy the moment rather than to trouble yourself with the moral implications of it all right now. You’ll destroy yourself otherwise.

And little do you know, but River’s thoughts are mirroring your own. He's fucking scared, terrified of the way you've woven yourself into the fabric of his life. As a detective, he's seen the darkest corners of Night City, the horrors that lurk in the shadows. But when it comes to you, he's lost, unsure of how to navigate the maze of emotions that swirl within him.

You're the very embodiment of everything he's sworn to protect the city against. And yet, he can't help but fall for you. Behind the walls you've erected to shield yourself from the world, he sees the vulnerability, the genuine warmth that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. But there's a part of him that fears the truth, that fears what he might discover if he delves too deep into your world. And as you stand together in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder if this fragile bubble of happiness is destined to burst, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.

The linoleum floor creaks beneath your steps as River leads you further, navigating the narrow hallway. Anxiety continues to brew within him—shit, he just hopes you like him back.

He hopes his choice is right. He hopes he made the right choice by bringing you around.

But all of the chaos, all the fear building within, completely evaporates away when his eyes finally meet yours, his anxiety dissipating into nothingness. Tonight, all he wants is for the two of you to be one, where nothing in the world matters. It makes everything else seem so distant and minuscule, and that, oh, it’s the closest thing to heaven that he’s ever known.

Nothin’ else matters—except for the moment.

River pauses at one of the entryways, silently gesturing to his niece and nephew, sleeping peacefully. You understand what he’s communicating to you immediately.

You two need to be quiet tonight.

Tonight is the perfect time to forget that you’re a mercenary and he’s a cop. No badges, no guns, no uniforms—and no parasitic rockstar in your head, either. Just you and him.

So you nod your head in acknowledgment as you ease past the kids and follow him into the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach flutters in your chest; oh, fuck, you feel like a couple of giddy-ass teenagers.

You’re relentless, in all the right ways. Your desperation to feel River, to kiss him— it’s intoxicating. Once the door clicks shut, you immediately rise up on your tippy-toes with zero hesitation to press your lips against his; you could do nothing else.

Fucking finally.

One kiss, and you know you’re addicted to the taste of his lips on your own. You know then, that nothing else could give you such a natural high. You must confess, that your thoughts are impure, and the fire is burning within your bones. Shit, it excites you so much, just the idea of riding him absolutely senseless— you’re gonna fuck away his entire moral compass by the end of the night.

It’s as your lips press together, with all the desire arousal, and heat you have to offer, a wave of cruel exhaustion washes over you as River embraces you, finally making its way to the forefront of your mind. His warmth almost feels like a blanket, of sorts, soft and comforting.

A soft pleased hum escapes River’s lips as he presses himself against you, moving his hands to grip the back of your head tightly, returning your kiss with the same raw passion. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his body pressing against yours— fuck, it feels so nice to be held by a body that feels like home.

And for once, it's not Johnny who takes over your thoughts, but River. You need him—now. The heat of his lips on yours is fucking intense. It's like everything else in the city fades away, and for once, even Johnny’s presence is just a distant buzz in your mind.

And all there is, that's all that matters—River, you, and the rest warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Your fingers claw at the fabric of his tank top, holding onto him tightly as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that’s been building up within you for entirely too long. You’ve wanted this—you’ve fucking needed this, needed to feel the warmth of another in a world so dauntingly cold.

Every breath feels new, every sensation is amplified, and all you can focus on is River. River, River, River. He’s real, and you feel him like never before. He’s yours, and you’re his.

Your breath is getting shorter, and your thoughts are being consumed with just one word: more. More, more, more. You need to feel his love.

How good it feels to have something real. And fuck, is it nice to have something else on your mind except for your impending and unavoidable death. No Johnny, no Arasaka, no Relic. Just you. Just him. Just two desperate people wanting desperately to cling to the idea of feeling alive for just one night.

You practically moan into his mouth as you lean back, letting his strong, secure arms wrap around your body. You press your body up into his, craving his warmth, craving his presence, craving him. It’s like you’re slipping into a deep trance-like state, one where all that matters in this very instant is River, this one fucking detective, this one stupid badge.

“River,” you whine quietly. “I need you.”

The words slip out before you even have time to stop them, the sound of them leaving your ears ringing.

Fuck, does he feel like the luckiest person alive when you utter those little words, the sound of them barely audible against the city’s distant hum? For such a tough merc, you sound so cute—so needy, that it makes his heart jump in his chest. It’s such an unexpected, quick change for you, and you swear you catch his mechanical eye shining a little brighter as his rough hands graze against your hips. His body presses tightly against yours, lowering his voice to a whisper that makes your tummy flutter.

“Shhh… I know ya do, V…”

The words feel so foreign slipping from his lips, but god, he can’t help it. River leans even closer to you until you can feel the warm breath of his body tingling inside your ear—his lips press up against your neck softly, trailing little wet kisses up and down the sensitive skin there.

“Just let go…”

River whispers again, moving his hand down your back and caressing the skin that he can feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips flutter up and down along your neck, nibbling gently on your skin. Rough, calloused hands trace down your body, before pulling your hips to his so there’s no space between you.

River’s voice turns deep; husky.

“Just let go of everything but me…”

After all, he’s done for the city, for the world, no one has ever wanted him in such a way that they wanted him, not just his title, his body, but the person behind the piercing glow of his mechanical eye.

River’s ganic hand trails gingerly up and down your torso, his fingers playing gently with the fabric of your shirt as his lips press against your neck. The delicate sensation sends ripples of pleasure through your core— fuck— you’re getting wet.

His words trigger an immediate response from you. Excitedly, you push back against him as you moan quietly in his ear, fingers digging into the fabric of his red tank top— breath halting in your chest, growing shorter and more agitated. You raise on your tippy toes, attempting to return the favor by kissing his neck.

As you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him, pushing a hand behind his neck, your fingers grip tight along the back of his neck. Slowly, you brace one hand on his chest, your thumb rubbing along the hard muscle that hides below his shirt, your other hand falling to fidget with the neckline of his tank.

You can feel it— he’s muscular; he’s strong and hard. He’s aboutta be all yours, and the thought alone makes you feel weak, weak in the knees with how hot he is.

When you’re slipping your hands below his shirt to feel the skin beneath, River’s steadiness finally falters. Unknowingly, he backs up into his desk, causing an empty beer bottle to topple over— crashing to the floor in the silence of the trailer.

Fuck.

For a brief moment, panic seizes over your entire being. Shit. Your heart pounds in your chest, shit, shit, shit— what if you woke everyone up with the crash? What if he’s upset with you for pulling such a gonk move, fuckin’ shoving him into his desk? What about the mess?

You swear you’re doomed.

But to your surprise, River's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his mechanical stare. Was his amn fault for being so clumsy, anyway.

When the warmth of his lips caress yours, you feel a deep wave of relief. Thank fuck— you think to yourself as you realize that your actions didn’t cause all hell to break loose.

Instead, he’s too amused by your excitement, and that only serves to turn you on all the more. Hell— River finds it adorable how badly you want him. He can deal with the mess later. He’s too lost in you, too lost in the tide of passion to give a shit. Instead, his focus is entirely on you, and all rational thought is overshadowed.

His hands find their way to either side of your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's determined to memorize every curve and contour of your face. River stops, an urgent whisper, his voice barely above a breathy murmur.

“You've got me. Don't let go. Don't let this moment, this feeling—this feeling of you and me, don't let it end.”

But before you can even process the full weight of River’s words, his lips crash into yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like a tidal wave, consuming you with its intensity, and you find yourself melting into his embrace without hesitation. You’re safe.

In turn, you respond eagerly, matching his passion with your own, hands roaming freely across his back, pulling him closer with every passing moment. River hums to himself when your smooth lips part upon the brush of his tongue against you— feeling just right. You feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, fueling that consuming lust that just keeps on burning brighter and hotter in your lower tummy.

You guide his strong hands, urging him to explore every inch of your being, to revel in the depths of your desire as you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of the moment. You need him. The feeling of his sends shivers down your spine, you realize that this—this connection, this unspoken bond—is what you've been searching for all along. In River's arms, you find solace. In his kiss, you find passion. And in that little bit of love between you, you find home.

Like you, River’s mind has started to go hazy, his body filled with heat as he pulls you in tighter, desperate to feel everything at once.

The embrace of your lips turns heated, desperate, his teeth brushing against your bottom lip. Shit, he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you like this— he feels like the luckiest fucker in the world. The heat rising in his body is nothing short of intense, it feels so right.

But he needs more.

River pulls away to break the kiss, his gaze slides across your body, admiring you silently, taking note of every little curve, burning through you, silently admitting how lucky he is. Oh, how he never realized desire could be so engulfing until this moment, with you staring right up into his eyes with a vulnerability he cannot ignore. It makes him feel fuckin’ stupid— like he could live in this moment forever.

His movements are slow and deliberate. It's enough to send your heart pumping, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short gasps. When you meet his steely gaze, it feels like his mechanical eye is bearing into your soul.

River moves a palm up to cup your cheek lovingly, before nodding his head in the direction of his bed— a silent command. You immediately know what he’s attempting to communicate. You know what comes next.

And you’re just dying to see it through.

A little rush of pure excitement overtakes you as you rush to the bed, while River turns around for a brief moment. Without a second thought, without any semblance of hesitation, you’re immediately beginning to fumble with the straps of your gear, allowing it to fall all to the ground. Every movement of yours feels like a wave of electric pulsing through your body, a rush of adrenaline that leaves you panting— leaving your mind blurry with need.

While he’s got his back turned, you rip off your sweats, letting them fall to the ground. Immediately after, you’re ripping off the thin tank you’re wearing, slipping your bra right off with it, fully exposing your bare chest to the coolness of the night air. A little excited shiver runs down your spine, your nipples perking up and stiffening as a result of the temperature drop.

And before you know it, you’re almost naked— wearing nothing but a soaked, think pair of panties, wanting him, needing to have him—not Johnny, but River, just River…

You catch the soft mechanical glow of his eye in the mirror on the closet door. For a brief moment, your breath catches in your throat.

The glow in the reflection dims as he stares. Your heart beats so fast you feel dizzy from the rush. You know he’s watching you just as you’re watching him. And without saying a word, you both know what you want— he finally turns around.

Fuck—you, the most dangerous mercenary in the whole fuckin’ city, is laying before this dumbass detective, wearing nothing but your panties. And oh, you’re so helplessly wet over some cop to the point where you can already feel the moisture soaking through them. You can’t control yourself, you can’t control the way your fingers keep on trailing lower, beginning to push away the dampened strip of fabric in between your legs.

A breath breaks from your mouth as you toss your panties aside. It’s sudden, a bit of a surprise even. But you’re done wasting time. The air feels cold on your exposed cunt, but fuck, you don’t care—besides, the heat he’s making you feel is enough to keep ya’ warm.

Gently, your lips tremble with each passing moment... your body is fuckin’ craving him more and more with every moment that passes with him staring directly at your messy pussy. You can’t take it. You allow yourself to be completely vulnerable, your arms trailing behind you as he draws near. Your eyes flutter as you anticipate him being near, letting him take you completely... letting him take you in.

River’s eyes are locked onto your body— he’s in shock. Fuck. Jesus Christ, every second you’re up looking at him with pathetic, needy eyes makes his cock tremble in his pants. Both of River’s eyes, amber and mechanical pierce through you, just craving you in ways he's never craved fuckin’ anyone. And oh, you love the euphoric burning feeling that rises in your tummy when you feel him stare. A little blush settles across your face, you feel some wetness slide down from your aching cunt. You arch your back a little as River approaches you.

Fuck. You can’t wait. You reach out, pulling your fingers tight around his hips as you pull him down to the bed with you. You can't wait another second to be with him and you pull him down with you on the bed. Before he can even process what’s happening, you’re beginning to lift his tanktop, and by Christ, you’re not disappointed when you finally reveal what’s underneath.

You’re not religious, but in the darkness of his bedroom, you’ve found something holy. Immediately, your eyes trail down, taking note of every little freckle and scar that litters his tan skin. Fuck— he’s perfect. You press your lips against his chest, trailing little wet kisses down his body... each kiss burning into both of you, each kiss driving you both that much closer to desperation. You’re unaware of the self-restraint he's exercising to keep himself from pushing you onto the bed and just fucking you right then and there. River’s working every ounce of self-control he has as you trail your lips down his chest, letting each kiss linger just enough to tease him.

In the dark room, you worship him with your touch, with a love that’s so undoubtedly wrong.

Your eyes drift up to his, and it’s over for you both. Gently, you slide your hands slooowly down River’s torso, making him squirm as your hand trails lower and lower, fingers beginning to move to slowly undo his pants. And fuck, It takes him every little bit of lasting resistance and strength he has to let you touch without intervening.

But shit— you aren’t gonna let River off that easy, no fucking way. You’re gonna fuckin’ savor this—every second of it all. Your lips trail down his clothed thigh with a subtle grin, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down inch by inch. He wants you to pull them off immediately but you're going slow, savoring every little cute expression he’s pulling, savoring the way he bites into his lip, hard.

River’s getting more and more frustrated by the second but damn you're just enjoying the thrill of it all, watching your most favorite detective bend to your whims like an obedient, well-trained dog. You're teasing him and savoring each and every second of it, every little moment of him letting out pathetic heavy sighs, every moment of his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.

But you’re growing impatient.

You begin to tug at his waistband, attempting to pull his jeans down his thighs with a not-so-secret smug-ass grin. You’ve got him wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, you feel confident—you’re gonna fuck the badge outta him— you’re gonna ride him till the goddamn sun rises.

But when his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, your ego is absolutely fucking wiped. He’s fucking huge.

Prominent veins run up the side of the thick shaft throbbing with pure anticipation. Your eyes trail up to the leaky, swollen tip where little beads of precum threaten to spill. Pure perfection. Everything about your actions up until now has been so confident and so sure, so controlled and so certain you could handle anything. But now that he's here— that he's out, free, and soooo clearly ready for you — you feel an intense wave of doubt.

You're the best, most badass fuckin’ merc in all of Night City—and yet here you are, with his dick in front of your face and you're speechless. River’s enjoying how you're staring at him, your eyes fixated on his shaft. Secretly, he loves the brief sense of control this is giving him, even with you on top. Fuck, it does good for his ego.

By Christ— he finds your reaction to his size nothing short of fucking adorable. River gives a sharp inhale through his teeth and his lips curve into a mischievous smile, his ego swelling with the realization that he's a lot more than you expected...and he loves it. He knows all the right words to say, all the right tones to take, and he knows exactly how to play with you, right down to the way you're staring at him.

Nonetheless, you set your thoughts aside as you mount the detective’s strong bronze thighs, his eyes locking onto yours.

You briefly question your safety as you tenderly wrap your fingers around the base of his thick shaft, feeling him jolt beneath you.

But it's okay. You've got this. You can do this. You take a deep breath and try to ignore the size, your hands still stroking him gently, your touch sending shivers of anticipation up and down his body…

His hand wraps around your thigh in silent reassurance, a giant grasp that feels like it was molded entirely for you to fit perfectly into it; and the other falls to your hip, slowly tracing a path across your bare skin. The little gesture sends you fucking wild. River needs you to be comfortable.

You press the tip of his cock against your dripping entrance, a little shiver runs through you when River stifles a groan underneath.

This all feels so right, this all feels so real, and River wants you to know that. He wants to take all of your fears and worries away, to show you that he's got you, and he's here for you. And when you take your first tentative slide onto him, the tip entering you, River’s jaw hangs agape, a little squeak leaving your lips as the thick head enters you.

You both recognize the need to be silent, and so for now the only sounds in the room are the soft moans and subtle whimpers coming from River's mouth as he's pressed against you...as you're pressed against him, two bodies entwined, one in the other. Nothing else exists at this very moment but this feeling... the intense, overwhelming feeling of his heavy cock throbbing inside of your tight walls. And oh, does the thought of making this dumbass detective whimper and struggle beneath you motivate you all the more.

When you finally sink down, filling yourself to the brim, a cute little gasp! is forced from your parted saliva-coated lips. River’s stretching you out so so nicely— it’s a sweet type of burn. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip hard, biting back a pathetic moan as your eyes scrunch shut.

A low growl escapes River’s lips as you suddenly take him whole in one go.

Your wet walls constrict and clench around him, your achy, needy clit pressing against his groin. Oh fuck, it’s hard for him not to start moving his hips, to just start thrusting into your pathetic mess of a pussy without mercy. But no, he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to guide the speed. This is your night, it’s River’s chance to show how much he fuckin’ adores you.

He's big— and you know you need to take it slow at first. But fuck, you’re not gonna stop, not now, not ever, not when he’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes upon— it’s sending little waves of euphoric bliss throughout your entire body.

River watches you take another deep breath before you begin to raise your hips again, pumping yourself full despite the stretch.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You continue this rhythm slowly, taking your own sweet time to thoroughly feel each inch of his sweet cock rubbing against your soaked walls.

In, out. In, out. You continue this rhythm.

You work through that burn— you work through the pain of the stretch. Take your own sweet time, inhaling, exhaling, breathing in between each movement, each wave of pleasure that ripples through your body with each bounce. Soon, you no longer feel the pain that comes with each slide down; you’ve melded to the shape of his cock.

Shit, he underestimated you.

River’s breathing heavily now, huffing and biting into his lip—as he takes his time, taking care of you. And the moment he finds your rhythm, he won't be letting up even for a second, he’s gonna make you suffer just the damn same.

But when you begin to speed up your pace, suddenly slamming your hips down into him, you’ve got him locked.

Then and there, River swears he’s in fucking heaven.

You’re so tight— so fucking soft… so fucking heavenly, that he can’t do anything except look up at you and purely just admire as you struggle to take him—as he himself struggles to keep up with the pace of your hips.

River’s pussywhipped already, turning his head to the side to hide the adorable little faces he’s pulling.

But fuck, you’re not gonna let that happen.

“Look at me,” you whisper into the silence of the night. You force his jaw upwards, wrapping your hands around his throat. “Only me, Riv.”

River’s caught off guard by your sudden display of dominance; but oh, how he loves it regardless. ‘Looks like his little mercenary finally gained the courage to take control,’ he thinks to himself.

You catch a little mischievous glimmer in his mechanical eye, shining into the darkness. He’s enjoying this, you can tell.

You stare into his gaze for just a brief moment; almost mesmerized, before suddenly pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely, your tongue slipping into his mouth.

River’s strong grip on your thigh releases as his body begins to tremble underneath you; it all just feels too fucking good. It’s all too too much, the intensity of your hips rocking back and forth, the way you’re squeezing him and bouncing on his dick like it’s nothing compared to before.

He knows you’re a merc, knows you’re a tough girl. You’re V— you don’t take shit from anyone, you take the reigns no matter what; he shoulda’ expected this from you. But oh, how he loves being bested by his lil’ merc.

River’s eyes roll back as he holds you tightly to him, his hands moving up to your lower back and supporting you, he’s lost all self-control, and can’t stop what's about to happen as his breath grows heavier, lips parting. You’re fucking wet, clenching so so tight around him—he can’t help the groan that juuusst barely escapes his lips…

But luckily for you, you cover his mouth just in time, your body still moving with such intensity. You're taking total control here, not letting him make a sound. You cover his mouth before he has the chance to protest, silencing him in an almost aggressive, dominating way, your breath hot against his lips.

At this moment, the detective is yours. Every muscle in his body belongs to you and every beat of his heart is for you. River is yours, he needs you, and when you cover his mouth, you can feel the rush going through his throat as it contracts with an effort to muffle any sound he might unintentionally let slip as your hips refuse to relent.

The feeling of control that you've been so desperately seeking is finally yours, all yours, your hands are on the wheel— and you’re the one sending this poor fucker into a tailspin of pleasure and lust. River feels so much better than you possibly could’ve imagined, and shit, you’ve finally accomplished your goal to fuck him senseless, leaving him a complete and utter mess in your control — a mess that feels so good, as you keep pumping against him, feeling him inside you.

Every movement you make is met with his equally intense counter-response, his cock beginning to throb. Fuck. He’s close.

But River’s not going to let you get ahead of him— nuh-fucking-uh. He’s had enough of your teasing; he can’t take it anymore— he’s not about to let himself cum before you, not when there’s so much fun still left to be had. He’ll drive himself to the edge— and he’ll take you with him.

Strong hands take hold of your hips, hammering his hips into your sweet, messy cunt at the pace he desires. Just like that, all the control in your hands, all that dominance, and power beforehand, is gone in an instant.

He wants to let you ride him, he really does. Wants to let you take control— but fuck, it’s not enough. He needs more, not just to ride, but to have you in his arms, and in return, you let him take control and show you exactly how he feels for you.

And so you give up your control, giving up your dominance, allowing River to manhandle you into position, guiding you to the edge of the bed. Your breath catches in your chest as River trails his lips down to your collarbone and slowly reaches down to latch onto your nipple. You dig your teeth into your lip as he suckles at it tenderly, keeping your reaction a secret as you try to keep it together. Inside of you, you feel your tummy flutter with adrenaline as your heart rate picks up.

He knows you’re enjoying this, but oh, he’s got other plans for you.

With strong yet gentle hands, he’s hoisting you up into his arms. His amber eye meets yours, and he’s gazing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world. He lifts you, and you let yourself go limp in his hold— you know you’re safe, after all.

You bury your head into his neck, pressing tight against him as you cling like your life depends on it. Everything feels so good when you’re in River’s arms when he loosens his grip to trail a path of wet kisses down the center of your chest. The way he feels so warm and safe makes you feel like the whole world isn’t crumbling down on you— instead, it feels like you can finally rest.

Honestly, it’s just entirely him that makes you feel this way. He’s a stark contrast to any of your past lovers; a genuine shining light in a world so filled to the brim with darkness, a genuine positive change compared to the ways apparent in all of your exes.

Shit, you know Johnny’s gonna hate you even more for this, but you know you love this— you love River.

Before you can think about it for any longer than you already have, he’s cutting your thoughts short to pull you to your feet, pinning you against the cool glass of his bedroom window.

Fuck, you’re adorable to him. River just can’t help but slide his palms up against your soft skin, all the way up to cup at your titties, cupping them softly in each hand.

You let out a sharp gasp as he slips in, a deep inhale following quickly after— his hips pressing into your ass. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as you cling to the cool glass of the window. You want him close, you want to feel him all against you. Your thoughts fill with nothing but him, and his cock begins to roll into you again, forcing a pathetic little squeak out of you.

But there’s a sudden thought that pops into your head— shit, what if someone sees this, sees you, pressed against the window, getting your insides rearranged like there’s no tomorrow? Fuck.

Shit, you feel more vulnerable than ever with River pressing himself into you, hands locked around your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he drives himself deeper into your sopping cunt. Him, the detective, fucking the brains outta’ a dangerous lil’ merc like you. Shit, it’s so thrilling that the thoughts in your head disappear entirely, and you're completely overcome with the sensation of his thick member moving in and out of you.

God damn. Your breath becomes shallow and your chest is rising and falling with every hard press of his hips into your ass. You're literally pressed against the glass with your face to the window, your eyes beginning to close.

Even though your brain screams for common sense, your body craves otherwise.

Oh god, you love this. Fuck your common sense. Fuck whatever Johnny has to say about it— you’ll deal with him later.

You feel like you're falling into a trance, drowning in pleasure. Every thrust fills you with more and more heat and waves of pleasure, overwhelming your body and leaving you feeling like you're drifting away into nothingness.

Your vision blurs and the sounds slowly fade into the background. River is everything, your entire world, and right now the only thing you can concentrate on is his body and how good he makes you feel— he’s stretching out your cunt fucking delightfully. It feels like you're drowning in pleasure and you love it, absolutely love this feeling of complete submission to him. Normally, you’d fucking never let somebody, anybody, do this to you.

But River Ward is the exception.

You love the feeling of his breath on your neck, the soft, warm comfort it gives you, like a blanket wrapping itself against you. Your body relaxes as he gently moves his hands along your ribs, his gentle touch sending a shiver of excitement down your body. Then you hear his voice, a whisper that makes your toes curl with the touch.

River’s attention is set on suppressing his little groans of pleasure by lowering his head to your shoulder, biting down gently. Shit, you’re almost too much to handle, he notes your breathlessness and sense of being soo overwhelmed- he can tell you’re ready for anything and everything from this moment on. Your walls constrict tightly around him, arousal fluids spilling from your hole with each mean thrust.

Your breath is heavy and unfocused. River’s touch is perfectly balanced between soft and rough, squeezing your waist as his other hand digs into your breast, hips still deliciously rolling into you, still deliciously fucking you.

You can't even remember the last time you've felt this.. good.

Despite the burn of the stretch of his cock, you steady your legs back, rocking your ass back against him to match the pace of his thrusts.

River’s eyes shoot open when he feels your tight cunt starting to move up and down his length again, this time without his influence. Both his intimidating gaze and his large hands immediately fall to the fat of your ass as a groan rips out from his throat.

He’s just enjoying the show as his pretty needy little merc attempts to get herself off. It’s cute— pathetic, the way you take him whole, the way you’re desperate for more.

You feel the cool press of his metal hand against the back of your neck, using you as leverage to pump his hot cock in and out.

Your lips curl against the force of your teeth, the heat of your breath fogging against the glass, legs beginning to violently shake under the weight of his thrusts.

Both hands move to grab your plush thighs with a tight grip, your breathless sighs and tight cunt squeezing around him let him know just how much you really need him.

You wanna moan. You wanna whine out his name, you wanna beg for more— but you can't. Not this time. So, you bite into your lip hard, your open palms set on the glass of the window briefly curling into fists. Instead of submitting to yourself, you focus on the brightness of neon lights and towering buildings right before your eyes, you focus on the way his hands dig into the soft flesh of your hips, driving deep inside.

But it’s all too much for you.

"Fuck, V, you're good…” His voice is hot as it trails down your neck and along your jawline. Gentle hands begin to trail down your thighs, fingers tracing along your skin. Oh, it’s heavenly.

River’s eyes open when he doesn’t hear you respond past weak, breathy little sighs. A teasing remark sits on his tongue, his lips curling into a smirk, but his throat goes parched the moment his eyes trail all the way down to where his large, swollen cock disappeared in and out of you, just stretching you oh-so-well.

You look utterly and completely debauched in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, cheek pressed up against the window, your mouth slightly agape, lips reddened and bruised from rough kisses. River finds the way your chest heaves and the way you let out broken whines oh-so-adorable, as his eyes trail down to the plethora of lovebites and hickies left strewn across your chest. At this point, you’re far too fucked-out to think.

Before you can even process what’s going on, River’s slipping himself out of you, making you let out a soft, yet audible little defeated whine. “Hey, hey…” Big arms lock around your waist, pulling you gently down onto the soft mattress below. “Stay with me, V…”

His voice is hot and hoarse right now— but fuck, you’d be damned if you didn’t find him to be so fuckin’ sweet— so fuckin’ adorable in the way he talks dirty to you— so damn possessive, yet so soft and tender at the same time. The sweet burn of lust ignites deeper within your stomach as you refuse to lose sight of his gaze. You nod your head; you follow his orders obediently. The feeling of being vulnerable like this for him feels so... right, so natural.

When your glassy eyes flicker up to meet his stare, his heart flutters a little in his chest. You look so so desperate, it’s beautiful.

River swears he’s truly gone feral. It’s all too much— your cute little face, your quiet whimpers, wet pathetic pussy so in need of being fucking destroyed… god. He can’t handle it anymore.

He drops to his knees on the bed— it feels natural, it feels right. Your breath halts a little in your chest, your pulse quickening when the detective begins to lower his head in between your thighs.

The world around you spins as your cunt squeezes around nothing. His rough fingertips grace over your clit, and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your lips. But he’s focused on something different— his cybernetic eyes are locked onto your cunt— your folds are soaked, your arousal coating your inner thighs in little tendrils.

“Wan’it?”

You nod again. Like an obedient dog.

River grins, mechanical eye gleaming in the darkness mischievously as his metal hand helps his cock press against your entrance. Something about his gravelly words made your cunt clench around nothing, making you drip onto his sheets below. His tip brushes against your sensitive sloppy folds, before he nudges your clit with his cockhead, drawing out the cutest little gasp from your lips. River chuckles at your reaction— fuck, you’re goddamn adorable. He uses his free ganic hand to caress your cheek, looking down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

The feeling of his palm pressed against you is soothing, comforting even. You nuzzle into his touch instinctively.

It’s all a sweet, tender moment before River begins folding your legs up to your shoulders. You don’t have a second to think back on it before his thighs spread wider beneath you, the girth of his large cock sliding in deep, pressing thickly against your fluttering walls.

Fuck. You almost lose yourself, then— lips falling agape, nails biting into the curvature of his bicep as his hips press flush with your own. You want to moan. You wanna cry out— so so fucking bad.

But you know you can’t.

Shit, River swears he could bust on the spot from the way you pathetically look at him, pupils blown and watery, eyes halfway shut. “Awh,” he whispers near silently before he braces himself and pulling your hips up to his waist, leaving your back arched gorgeously. You feel completely full again.

His hips are finally still, giving you both a moment to recuperate. This time around, your cunt clenches down extra tight, your body seeming extra sensitive. He can read your reactions like a book— and he’s enjoying every little cute reaction he’s pulling out of you.

River hums to himself, before straightening back again. He pulls out all the way— till just his aching tip is left throbbing inside of you.

And all you can do is watch when he rocks back in and out again and again as if testing how deep he’s claimed his pretty little killer.

But with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, you’re more focused on how he’s moving, the way his body moves back and forth inside you, claiming you. Your instincts kick in as this strong man overpowers you and takes control of you most dangerously, but you accept it all. Just the feeling of his hands on your hips, his touch all over you as you look at him...fuck, you feel complete. You’re a dangerous merc in her prime, and yet here you are, fucked absolutely dumb by River Ward. Fuck, old man’s got some goddamn stamina, it’s impressive.

But secretly, he’s not sure if he can take it anymore— the pace of his hips falter for a second. Fuckkkkk. He grasps onto the meat of your thighs, his hips beginning to falter, slow down; his thighs beginning to tremble.

The overstimulation that comes with dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy might just be the catalyst for him. He uses his remaining strength to hold himself deep inside of his lil’ merc, relishing the way you dig your nails into the curve of his bicep as he fucks into you steadfastly.

Now, it's you who's not sure if you can take it anymore. You can feel his hips slowing down, his grip on you faltering as he struggles to pull himself together. Your nails dig into his arms, digging deeper each time you feel that familiar feeling building up within you. Your thighs start trembling as your entire body is quaking underneath his...it's about to be all over for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control yourself like he had when you were trying to lure him deeper into you, but the build-up of pressure inside of you is too much to contain...it's beginning to spill over as the tension between you two builds up even higher. Your eyes continue to flutter with each slide in, and you’re panting at the burning euphoric release beginning to bubble in your chest. It’s all too much for you— far too much.

River’s dick knocks against your plushy walls over and over again, making your breaths ragged and short, making you spew out little high-pitched hoarse sighs as he claims you as his own after waiting for sooo long.

Every thrust inside of you has you trembling, panting, trembling again—your body can't take this anymore, the build-up is beginning to turn into a burst within you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as this burning euphoric release inside of you is simply too much....too much for you to handle. Your entire body feels like it's boiling over, the pressure inside of you reaching an all-time high.

The pressure building up in your tummy is too much to handle. You’ve resisted your orgasm, you’ve fought it, but suddenly the need for release becomes too difficult to hold back. Your body jolts up and you press your chest against him as you release, panting and whimpering as the pressure inside you is finally releasing. Finally, you cum, coating River’s cock in a ring of opaque white liquid.

The feeling of relief spreads through your entire body as you release, feeling your body tense and shudder with your inner pleasure flowing out of you as you moan out his name and you feel his grip tightening the harder that you bite into his arm, holding back from saying anymore even though you know you can’t keep it in anymore. Your lips quiver with anticipation as you feel the build-up of pleasure rise inside of you, and it’s so hard not to just explode but you hold back as he thrusts faster inside you.

His hands are shaky under the weight of your trembling thighs, underneath the weight of your explosive climax. His thrusts slow down to a halt, both his mechanical and ganic hands gripping your waist tight.

Deliberately, he slides himself all the way out, making you feel every inch of his cock down to the last vein, before slamming himself back inside one last time.

No longer can he stand the feeling of holding back— he needs to cum.

Every pump of his hips is accompanied by a short shudder and an exhale of your name as he’s losing himself to you, to the grip and clutch of your nails digging deeper into his arms. You know he’s close. And oh, is every little sign of his oncoming orgasm so so heavenly— the way his cock noticeably throbs within your constricting, gummy, tight walls— the way he’s allowing the occasional whimper to slip from his parted lips.

Your entire body’s trembling and quaking as he pulls away from you, both in the act of withdrawal and the satisfaction of fulfilling what he’s sought after for so long now. You’re breathless from his touch, quivering in your body, your eyes unable to focus on anything but the sight of him biting his lip…he's so so close to cumming— it’s all so damn delicious.

His mechanical hand presses into your thigh, the heat of his grip burning deep against your skin as he strokes his length, his breath shallow as he looks down at you, his eyes focused. River’s metal hand grips meanly into your thigh as his ganic’ one strokes his length, biting down hard into his lip to suppress himself.

Instead of gazing back into his eyes, you’re gazing down at his glistening dick as he finally cums— the liquid is thick, warm, and milky, all splattering onto your lower stomach.

The feel of his release all over you leaves you gasping as reality sets in. Once the heat disappears and the sensation finally dies down, you’re left with a whole new wave of emotions that you haven’t ever experienced before. Your body is still shaking from the release, and his breath is heavy as he looks down at you. You two are a mess.

River lays down there next to you, panting heavily as he stares over at you. His breathing is quick and heavy, and he's completely out of breath from the entire night, but he's smiling slightly, a look in his eyes that seems almost...relieved and content. You can’t help but to just admire how fuckin’ adorable he is before he reaches over to brush your hair aside, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

River’s soft with you— in your line of work, there’s no room for this much tenderness. You melt underneath his touch, a satisfied little sigh escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. You’re finally feeling comfortable enough to relax with him, to let your guard down and allow yourself to be a little soft with him. You feel at ease with him— finally at peace with not having to constantly be on high alert. You can relax.

But River’s all too aware of the mess he’s left you with. Gently, he lowers himself to you, softly murmuring in your ear.

“Just one sec, V… gotta get you cleaned up.”

As he stands, you're left helpless and vulnerable. The warmth of his touch is gone, replaced by a chill that leaves you feeling a little empty. Rivers' footsteps echo in the silent space between you as you lie there, alone in your thoughts.

The intimacy between the two of you may have faded, but the lingering after-effects remain. Your body is still trembling from the release, and your mind is clouded with the remnants of ecstasy. You’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. A mess.

As River's footsteps echo through the room, you feel helpless and weak. Your body has been taken by him, and you’re left behind. To be cleaned up. You're his.

When he returns, he has a soft, warm towel in one hand, and one of his tanktops in the other. He places the tank top down on the bed right next to you. River's hand reaches out and starts to gently wipe down your body with the cloth, working to clean up the mess left behind. His touch is gentle, tender, and caring. You appreciate his efforts to clean up the mess he's left you with.

You feel like a mess, his mess. His hands are gentle and meticulous as he cleans you up, his touch different from the rough grip you felt during the night. His soft touch is comforting, reassuring, and so at odds with the intensity of the night. Yet, at the same time, it shows the other side of the intense man you know so well. The delicate one, hidden from the world.

He’s not squeezing or gripping tightly— just gently wiping you down, making sure not to squeeze too hard as he does his best to get you clean. His touch is tender he begins wiping you down, making sure to avoid the more sensitive areas like your inner thighs, and before making his way up with the soft cloth.

You feel yourself close to slipping away into a deep sleep, only for his warm voice to pull you back into the present.

“Hey…V,” River murmurs softly. “Got a shirt for you…” He’s grinning as he holds up a crumpled-up tank top he had set aside earlier— a small grin forming around your lips as you see the words “FUCK THE POLICE” printed across the front.

”Figured you’d like it…” he chuckles faintly, holding it up for you to take.

Despite your exhaustion, a little giggle leaves your lips at the sight of the printing on the front. Fuck, he’s adorable. River’s smile is contagious, filling you with a type of fondness you haven’t experienced in a long goddamn time. You graciously accept the shirt, sliding it over your head, a soft sigh escaping you as it settles over your frame. The fabric is soft, and it keeps you covered from the coolness of the night air. It’s a little big on you, but you like it that way— it’s comfy, and you’re beyond grateful for the little gesture.

River slides into bed next to you, remaining silent as he watches settle. His eyes wander up and down your body, appreciating the way the fabric of his shirt hangs loosely around your frame. He likes the look, and it’s cute. It’s not something he’s used to, but the sight of you like this— it’s endearing to him.

You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, settling into your bones after the long day's events. As he watches you settle in, you can sense his silent appreciation and affection, his gaze tracing the lines of your body with a softness you haven't often encountered.

"Thanks for tonight," River murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of weariness as a yawn interrupts his words. He briefly presses a little kiss to your forehead, before rolling over. "Goodnight, V."

His words linger in the air, carrying a sense of appreciation and tenderness that touches your heart. With a soft smile, you reply, "Goodnight, River…" before snuggling closer to him, seeking his warmth as the chill of the night settles in around you.

The two of you lay there, entangled in the silence of your first night together. All you can hear is the sound of his breath against your throat, the silent rustle of his sheets, and the faint thrum of his heart. You feel so safe, so warm, so loved in his arms. River radiates a sense of peace within you, one that you hadn't felt on your own. And with him comes a feeling of protection, a feeling of belonging.

#joce writes #river ward #river ward x reader #river ward x v #cyberpunk 2077 #fem v #cyberpunk smut #cyberpunk2077 #river ward romance #river ward x fem v #cyberpunk2077 fanfic #cyberpunk2077 writing

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imaginecolby · 5 months

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Friends with Benefits || Part Three - The Adjustment

as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt like you wanted to throw up again.

Pregnant. your mind was a blank, almost as if you’d forgotten what the word meant. you had no emerging thoughts about where you were going to go from here.

“pregnant.” colby repeated, barely above a whisper. you watched as he sunk to his knee, taking your hand in his. “y/n, will you-“

“oh, nuh uh.” you interrupted. “you are not proposing to me right now.” you said, pulling him up from the floor.

“why not? we’re going to have a kid!”

“colby, we’re not even officially dating. i don’t expect you to propose to or marry me just because im having your baby.”

“you’re right, sorry. my head is just all over the place.” he sighed, sitting back down on the couch. you watched his face as the gears turned in his head. you were scared he was gonna bolt and leave you to make decisions on your own.

“tell me what you’re thinking.” you said quietly, moving to set next to him.

“a lot of things. scared of how this is gonna change us, worried that im gonna fuck this up. are we ready for this?” he asked.

"i don't know. i mean, ive always wanted kids, but this is not the way i wanted to go about that."

"me either." colby said, taking his hand in yours. "but im glad we're gonna be in this together. we've been in each other's lives for so long, at least we're not toal strangers."

"that's true." you sighed. you both sat there quietly before you spoke again. "so, where does this leave us?"

"we're still us. we're friends before anything, and we're a team in this. i'm gonna be here for you through everything." he said, squeezing your hand.

"thank you." you said softly, leaning into his side and hugging him tight. colby squeezed you tight and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

"we got this." he said softly, giving you another squeeze.

the first trimester was a bit rough, as your routine began to change. your symptoms were already killing you. between the morning sickness, constant pain, and overall nervousness of this life changing event, you were already more tense than you'd ever been in your life.

you were at the doctor's office every week. but you were glad that you weren't doing this alone. colby made it a point to make every appointment with you. he made a promise to you that he was going to be there for you through every part of this pregnancy, and he was keeping good on his word. along with your appointments, he was going shopping with you to get all the necessities for the baby, helping put transform the guest room in your house into the nursery. you and him were researching and learning all the things you could about parenting.

you were still pretty nervous, really more nervous than you could ever explain. this feeling was probably going to last your entire pregnancy, but you were so glad that colby was doing this with you. you felt like you could accomplish anything with him by your side. but you couldn't help but worry that all you were ever going to be was co-parents, and nothing more. you knew you and colby had sort of an "agreement" about your relationship, but you were feeling like you wanted to be more. you were just too scared to bring it up to him, in case that was going to be too much to add to his plate. especially right now.

one afternoon, you'd just gotten home from a busy morning of some shopping and a quick trip to the drugstore for some more prenatal vitamins. you were resting on the couch, your hand falling into place on your belly. you still couldnt believe you were growing a human in there. as you sat there with your thoughts, pictures of your future child began to flash through your head. a baby boy with dark hair and blue eyes like colby, or a baby girl with soft hair and skin tone that beared a strinking resemblance to yours. you truly were so excited for this next part of your life, and you couldn't wait to raise your baby.

your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing on the coffee table. you picked it up and saw a text from colby.

"are you home? i have something for you." he text you.

"yeah, i just got back. :)" you replied.

"perfect, see you in ten."

while you waited for colby to come over, you put up your purchases and changed into some more comfortable clothes. you were walking back into the living room just as you heard a knock on your door.

"hey!" colby said with a smile when you answered. he pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"whatcha got?" you asked, pointing to the numerous bags in his hands.

"oh, i know better than to you come over without food." he laughed, handing you the food bags. "now, i don't know how your appetite has changed since getting pregnant, but i hope you still like, and can actually eat, chinese."

"oh yes, i will never turn away chinese." you said, taking the food from him. you got plates for the two of you and moved to the living room. you and colby sat down on the couch and set the food up on the coffee table.

"and what's this?" you asked, pointing to the gift bag he had.

"daddy's first gift for the baby." he said, his face lighting up as he started to open it. he pulled out a ball of fabric, unrolling it to reveal a onesie with a familiar logo on the front.

"oh my god! this is so cute!" you cheered, taking it from him.

"baby's first piece of xplr clothing."

"colby, this is adorable. this'll be their coming home outfit after they're born." you laughed.

"perfect, that was my intention." he laughed. the two of you sat down to eat, and conversation quickly ensued. after a while, you decided to take a more serious turn.

"so, my first trimester is up. i think it's time we start telling people." you said.

"yeah, i've been thinking about that these past couple days. but, i think we need to talk about our relationship first."

"oh?" you asked, sitting up and focusing entirely on him.

"i think we should be exclusive. y'know, boyfriend and girlfriend." he said, taking your hand in his.

"what? are you serious?"

"well, you wont let me propose, so," he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. "y/n, i love you. i know i told you at the beginning of all of this, that i wasn't looking for a relationship. but i love you. i've loved you since the day i met you, but i was too scared to commit to relationship because i was at a place where a lot of girls were using me."

"you know i'd never do that to you." you said softly, rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand.

"i know, and i feel bad for ever thinking that of you. but i'm over that now. i want to be with you. fully and completely. we're gonna be starting a family, and i want us to be as commited to each other as we'll be to the baby. you don't have to say anything now, but i just wanted to put my feelings on the table, and be completely honest with you."

"i'm actually glad you said something because i've been thinking about us as well. you know ive always liked you, as more than a friend. and i've wanted to be exclusive with you. i didn't really want to be part of this "friends with benefits" type thing we've had going on in the first place, but i just wanted to be with you, in any way, so i agreed to it, thinking your feelings would eventually change. i definitely didn't think this was going to be the thing that would change your mind about us, but im glad it did. i love you too, and i wanna be with you. officially, and fully."

"officially and fully." colby repeated, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

"im glad we've figured this out. once we start telling people we can avoid the whole ‘yeah! we're having a baby without even being together!’ conversation."

"oh, i know. i wasn't looking forward to that either." he laughed. "speaking of, how are we gonna do our announcement?"

"i don't know. i've been trying to figure something out, but all the ones ive gone through online don't seem fitting for us." you sighed.

you sat there quietly for a moment, the both of you racking your brain for ideas. suddenly, a light bulb went off in your head.

"oh my god, yes!" you sat up, an idea running in your mind.

"what? what did you think of?" colby asked. you sat there without saying anything, picking up the onsie.

"a little explorer!"

#colby brock imagine #colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagines #colby brock x reader #fwb

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coveholdenmyluv · 5 months

Text

R. Braun - Honey Soaked Promises

synopsis. In which you reminisce on your quest for revenge, irrigated with broken promises and fermented with betrayal, allowing you to act as the judge between life or death for yourself and the viper dressed in the skin of the love of your life.

— or alternatively, in which you make the stupid decision to fall in love with the wrong person on your journey to freedom...

Oh well, you'll just have to kill him now.

series masterlist

chapter warnings. Unrequited love, angst, mourning/grieving, (our girl is going thru it), comfort, fluff.

chapter synopsis. Eren asks you a question that you don’t know how to answer. Then, you’re forced to endure a day of anguish.

IV| Snowmen and Candles. 10k words.

“His honeyed eyes seemed to shift a shade deeper, the vibrant saffron flame reflected its visage onto his pupils, a sight that brought among the warmth to your insides once again.”

Or, maybe you would.

Year 851

The sand seeps between your toes as you stroll along the shore, careful not to pierce the skin of your soles with the stray fragmented shells littered across the ground. Your fingers fly to the band on your head, slipping it out of your hair, seeing as it was deemed useless to prevent your long strands from tickling your face by the harsh but invigorating breeze that drew in with the waves.

Your eyes stayed locked on the caliginous ocean to your left that could be seen as terrifying and intimidating, but held an entirely unexplored world and connected you to uncharted lands. That could never been seen as terrifying to you, not anymore.

The ocean in daylight and the ocean bathed in moonlight were two vastly contrasting concepts — with the vivid hues of cerulean and gold, and the dusky shades of mercury and navy blues. One is reminiscent of Armin and the warmth he exudes, simply by living and sharing his mien. And the other, of Mikasa and the unwavering pillar of loyalty she provides, not to mention the blanket of security.

Now though, at the hours between night and day, the sea reminds you of Jean — for it melts the sense of security and warmth into one, and doesn't require you to throw on a warm jacket, neither would it force you to tie your hair back in search for a refreshing gust of air. The colors almost looked like the work of a spontaneous artist, ranging from intense and coruscating to dusky and chasmic.

The sea is pulchritudinous and enigmatic.

"How do you do it?"

Your eyes fluttered towards the sudden voice, so familiar to your ears. Just as you had expected, though unaccompanied by a pair of socks or shoes, the brunet peered up at your form, his dark hair delicately tucked behind his ears and lidded jade eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Very rarely, have you ever referred to those eyes as jade. But recently, there was no other word you could use to describe his serpentine irises.

"What are you yappin' about, Eren?" You ask, amusingly.

Laying his palm on the void spot beside him, he gestured for you to take it, which you obliged and took the time to dig a pit in the wavering sand for your feet to lay warmly in.

"Every time I'm thinking hard about something or am at a loss, to the point where my head throbs, you appear out of thin air." He explains, which causes your brow to contort in uncertainty. His words always seemed to have an extra, hidden, layer of meaning behind them.

"Sorry?"

Your response causes his eyes to roll jovially, before they settle back onto your face. "It's not a bad thing, silly. I don't mind it."

Your gaze settles back onto the horizon, noting the way the colors have seemed to deepened since the last you had ogled the scene. It shouldn't be too long before the sun completely takes its leave and trades shifts with the moon.

"Me neither." You state softly.

Eren's eyesight follows your own, before he speaks your thoughts aloud. "It's a nice day, or I guess, a nice sunset. Though it's getting dark already."

"Yeah, it is. The ocean seems, for lack of a better word, prettier than usual lately. Summer should be coming soon." You commented, your smile gentle in the remaining light of the late afternoon sun.

"Right." He agreed. "Are you planning to bring him for a visit anytime soon? He'd love to paint the sky at dawn." He suggested before the smallest chuckle, if it could even be considered that, escaped his lips at his next words. "I bet we'd have to bribe him to get any sleep. Maybe with that paint made from seashells that he keeps talking about."

At the mention of the boy who remained back behind the safety of the inner walls, a fond grin formed on your lips. "Even then, we'd take our eyes off of him for one second and the next thing we know, he somehow dragged himself back to the shore — with the paint we bribed him with too." You mention light heartedly. "Sometimes, I swear he's part merman."

Eren hums in amusement, and it's a small sound that seemed to be the most anyone could get out of him these days. You tossed and turned at night sometimes, pondering what had caused such a sudden shift in his demeanor. What had caused his eyes to sullen and the intricate stroma of his irises ingrained into them to deepen into that cataclysmic shade of jade? Perhaps they had always been that color, but if that were the case, what was it about his eyes before that had caused you to view them so differently?

The eyes truly are the windows to one's soul, though they aren't as pellucid as it would seem, for the existence of affliction and desolation always expelled sweltering steam and fog that obscured your view.

"Something is wrong, Eren." You admitted in as fragile of a voice as you could conjure, in fear you would cause him to pull away, just as he usually would when anyone would point out the obvious.

With his gaze trained intently on the darkening horizon, not sparing you a glance, he questions your words. "What do you mean?"

Tilting your head in an attempt to draw his attention to yourself, you state, "You know what I mean."

He does. His expression tells you so. Still, he did not relent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Growing impatient and with urgency bubbling in the broth of your guts, you do not allow yourself to falter. "Cut the crap, Eren. There's somethin' you're not telling us about, and I want to know what it is."

His gaze fell to his lap, expression not gifting you a single key into his thoughts. "Nothing is wrong. I have everything under control." His voice said, vacantly so.

You were desperate, yearning for a window that he had somehow left open, for you to enter his mind. Eren was a person you held so near and dear to your heart, he was there continuously at one of the lowest moments of your life. And he is hurting, he is falling into a hollow crater located in the pits of his soul, as deep as the body of water before you, and he is doing it alone. But he shouldn't have to, not when you were right there in front of him.

You place your hand onto his arm and nudge him gently to face your way, "Don't do that, you're deflecting." You pointed out. "You can talk to us." You reassured him, before your eyes attempted to meet his yet again, and they implored for him to concede. "You can talk to me."

How do you help someone that does not want to be helped?

"I promise you, I've got it all under control."

"That's not what I'm asking. That's not what I care about." You state, unyieldingly, and willing to forget the empty promise he has just made to you, even knowing how meaningful those are to you.

His eyes moved to meet yours, the familiar intricate lines of his irises presenting themselves to you, unashamedly. "What do you care about?" He inquired.

Without a single ounce of hesitation, you state, "You."

If he felt any warmth from that revelation, he didn't show it. His brows stay furrowed as his stare intensified, as if he could read you like a book. "Is caring for me all that you feel?" He asks.

Your eyes soften as you answer his question, not phased by the slight change in your conversation. "No, of course not. I love you."

His face drew in closer to your own, and for the first time in what felt like a millennium, his eyes shed the barriers blocking you from entering the windows to his soul, like a reptile shedding skin. You could see him, all of him. He was begging you to say what he yearns to hear.

"In what way?"

Your breath falters, and your head subconsciously moves closer, enough to rest your forehead against his. You wish you could grant him what he truly wanted you to say. Without a doubt, your feelings towards the boy were not minuscule in size, you had meant what you said earlier, and that truth would reign until your last breath. You longed to bring him freshly picked daisies on your rare strolls across green fields, where you would invite him to lay with you and watch the stars. You want to be able to cry with him and share the baggage you both carry, and to not let yourselves handle any burden alone. Eren was the boy you wanted to fall in love with, to have him in the most secure place in your heart and never think to replace him.

You wish you loved Eren Jaeger, the way that he loves you. You wish you loved him instead.

But those daisies would never blossom and flourish as beautifully as they once did when you admired them years ago, and those stars would never gleam and radiate you adoring messages as they once did not so long ago, and you couldn't cry with him because just as you had with the aforementioned activities, you had already done so with someone else. Eren could not secure that sacred place in your heart, for that place was already taken.

"Eren." You whisper. You want to convey how sorry you truly are, but you don't have the heart to.

"Please Y/N," He pleads in a hushed tone, before his warm hand grasps your own, "I need to know."

Oh, how you love Eren Jaeger; unfortunately for him and for yourself, you are not in love with him.

How do you tell someone that your hearts still calls for the honeyed pools that cleaved through your soul and placed you at your worst. That you long for the sweet nectarine taste of his lips and the warmth his body exudes when sat under the sun, beside a brisk and anarchic river. That you hate the fact that, despite his sins against the people you care the most for, the imprint and memories that he left behind did not halt their daily tour around your mind.

The brutal truth is, you don't. You warp them like wet clay and force them in the caverns of your very being, not even admitting it to yourself, in fear of cementing those facts as exactly that, facts.

It feels like hours, which in actuality was merely minutes, before you properly garner your thoughts. You handpick your words like you pick berries and swallow the ones you deem useless, until you feel prepared to speak the naked truth towards the boy who desperately wants you to do the opposite.

"Y/N, we've been looking everywhere for you!" Jean shouts from a distance, his palms cupped around his mouth for projection. "Eren?" He voices his curiosity as he finally noticed that you weren't alone. "What are you guys doing?" He questions suspiciously.

Your parted mouth, set to speak your truth, halts midair at the sudden intrusion and you wonder why you hadn't detected his presence before. Both of your foreheads part in surprise, as well as your hands, and you turn to face the, now approaching, fawn haired boy. "Gods Jean. Don't do that." You scold.

The teenager simply looks from you to Eren in succession, his eyes conveying the questions he has yet to voice aloud. Knowing him, he'd definitely submit you to an interrogation the moment he deemed it right to, which you would immediately yield to. "Right... my bad." He replied without much regret, in fact he was most likely glad that he intruded when he did.

"Did you need something?" Eren asks, not even sparing the other boy a glance, simply returning his gaze where it had laid before your conversation — the sun now nowhere to be seen, a canvas of navy blue replacing where it had once stood. He did not appreciate Jeans arrival.

"Yes, obviously." Jean states, before focusing his attention on you. "Y/N, there are some new recruits that are looking to change up their hair styles. Connie mentioned your name and now there's a whole line of them-" He began, before the interrupter became the interrupted.

"It was not just me! Armin said so too!" Connie defended from afar, sometimes you swore that Sasha's abnormal hearing had somehow spread to him over the years.

The blonde mentioned by the second intruder waltzed down the shore behind him with an apologetic wince on his face, his lustrous locks bouncing with every bounding step he takes. "That's true. I'm sorry, I didn't know so many would be interested." He admits. "In my defense, I only mentioned it but those two really drove it home."

"Of course." You quip. "How could Sasha not be involved in the plotting of my demise?" A small smile formed on your face at the appearance of your friends. Your family.

Her cackles were heard before she made her appearance, such a buoyant one too. "Blame Mikasa!" She deflects, her index fingers pointing to the unbothered girl beside her. "She was the one that started your career in the first place!"

"I had nothing to do with the current situation." The ravenette states, shifting her head to playfully glare at Sasha.

"Wow, the waves are really calm tonight." Armin mentions his observation, his eyes always being drawn towards the sea and all that it offered.

You hummed, "I noticed that too."

"Perfect! I've been wanting to go for a swim since yesterday." Sasha announces as she trudged closer to the water.

"You don't even know how to swim." Jean tells her.

"I can learn." The girl states and you expected for some amount of preparation, or at the very least for her to take her shoes off, but this was Sasha. She did not care if her belongings sullied because of the salt embedded into the water.

"Sasha!" Armin yells in disbelief, "Your clothes!- and she can't hear me because she's underwater." He shook his head in disapproval. "The captain's not gonna be happy about this."

Resurfacing, with her hair bangs clinging to her face and lashes clumped together by the water, she beckons your group to join her. "Come on, the water feels good!"

"Mikasa?" You call to the girl who now stood beside you.

"I've got you." She replies and hands you a spare hair tie that she, for a reason unknown to you, always kept on hand, despite her own hair not bearing much length. Nevertheless, you accept gladly and move to put it to good use after handing her your head band that wouldn't be of any use to you right now.

"You're actually humoring her?" Jean asks you, bewildered at how easily the girl had always seemed to sway you along for most of her excursions.

Approaching the waves, you pivot to face the boy questioning your actions with a teasingly light smirk, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." You state and Connie whooped in delight as he followed after you.

"Ew, Y/N don't ever say that again. That's something Connie would say." He attempts to stifle his amused chuckles.

"I totally would." Connie agreed, not at all deflating at the light jab at him.

Jeans eyes roll into the back of his skull and he sighs before relenting, "Fuck it." He says and sprints to join you in the water.

"You guys comin'?" You call out to the trio who still hadn't shown any sign of moving from the shore.

Eren replied by simply sitting back onto the sand, having had stood to his feet along with you at the arrival of the others, before waving you off with a faint grin. You could tell he wasn't upset by the intrusion, not too much, and genuinely wanted to keep dry tonight. "Go ahead." He reassures, and like always, his words held depth to them. He would ask you the question that carved into his heart everyday if he had to, even if that meant his main organ being butchered like a scene of a sanguinary.

You didn't even have to glance at Mikasa to know that she would stay beside Eren, the world simply wouldn't work in the same way if that were any different. Armin though, did spare the wafting waves a glimpse, before taking his rightful seat beside the brunet. You didn't expect any less from the three, standing, or sitting in this instance, beside each other through thick and thin.

So you carried on, shielding yourself from the barrage of salt water thrusted at you by the two before you, with Jean at your side, the pair of you not accepting defeat at their hands. Prepared to handle the chastising conversation you would be dealt with from your captain when you returned to base, about how filthy your garments had grown.

Willing to endure extra chores, for an extra moment of peace.

Year 846

Faint whimpers escaped from between your fingers as your hands clamped against your lips in a futile attempt to withhold your cries. Glistening streams trickled down your cheeks and stuck to your lashes as you couldn't help but express your lamentation.

Your footsteps were hefty and lacking balance as you wobbled forward, and your body was wrapped securely in your cloak while your head was in the absence of the warmth the hood would have provided.

Icicles protruded from the evergreens that wreathed your figure, having had been caused by the slight changes in the weather as the ice slowly melted and the sun grew stronger. Snowflakes spun around you in a hypnotic dance, but you had paid them no heed.

Those days were always destined to be a day filled with sorrow, and the arrival of yet another Military Police officer in search of yourself only worsened your angst. You had made your escape into the woods once more, with both your body and breath trembling.

There was an affliction, deep within your soul, that felt as if someone was endlessly tugging and twisting at your insides and no matter how many sobs had left your lips, the ache did not lessen. Your lungs felt constricted, as if there was a source of pressure that gradually grew tighter, causing your irregular breaths to contort into painful heaves. The unyielding pain had caused your legs to feel as if they would collapse at any given second, but that is what you craved.

Any form of physical pain is what you yearned for at the moment, you would have accepted anything in an attempt to make the agony that fermented within your core, seem lesser.

You had fled deep enough within the woodlands that the animals that inhabited the conifers could have been seen going about their days — so, it had not come as a shock to you when your ears detected noises that came from your right. What had caused you to halt your grieving, was the fact that the sound that had caught your attention had seemed to match those of your own nose. Sniffling is what you heard and an exhale followed, both sounds that you deemed more human than animal.

Your head instinctively turned in the direction of the noises, and your eyes caught sight of a black boot, its owner shielded from your gaze by the trees. Your fingers wiped the tear tracks from your cheeks and you slowed your pace. Your eyes narrowed as you quietly craned your neck in an attempt at sneaking a peek at the stranger.

"Reiner?" You murmured, instantly recognizing the pale color of his hair.

He was sitting on the snow with his back against a tree trunk, and his head tilted towards the sky. It had been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with the boy, and all thoughts of him had fled your mind shortly after you had parted ways. You thought you would never see him again, bar the fact that he told you of his plans of enlisting in the military, the same as you.

Many people could say they were brave enough to do such a thing, but when the time arrived, so did silence. Still, it had surprised you of what a coincidence it was that you were both in the same part of the forest, on the same day, at the same hour; yet again.

"Hey stranger." You called out, your voice startling him and causing his body to jolt in surprise.

His eyes had widened at the sight of you, which was understandable considering he likely did not expect to see you again, and certainly not so soon. "How did you find me?" He asked.

"I wasn't really looking for you." You stated as you drew closer. "And if this is your definition of hiding, I think you'd do best without all the noise."

Your words caused him to hastily wipe his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, "I didn't notice." He admitted.

You looked at his sides and noted how empty handed he seemed. "What're you doing out here, again?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You look like you've seen better days." He said as his eyes inspected your face and you didn't blame him for saying so. You could feel how swollen your harsh tears had left your eyes, cheeks, and lips. You could only imagine how blood shot your sclera had gotten, but still, you made no attempts at shielding yourself. You had grown used to the swelling of your face and the headaches that the innumerable nights you spent curled up and silently wailing, had left in their wake. It also did not escape your mind that he sat in a similar state, albeit you admitted were slightly worse for wear.

Once you had been near enough that you could very clearly see the light pink that enveloped his eyes and nose, you sat beside him, against that same tree. Not enough that your shoulders had touched but enough that you could hear each other if you decided to whisper. "I asked first." You shrugged.

Mimicking the movement of your shoulders, he answered, "I guess it's just been a rough day for me. That and I've been feeling a little homesick lately." The latter portion of his sentence had dipped in volume and his brows furrowed slightly.

"I get that. I guess you could say the same for me." You said and although you did miss your home dearly, in your case it was that you missed the way home had made you feel. Not the conditions nor the people in general, but specifically, two boys that you hadn't seen in nearly a year.

His lidded eyes faintly widened in shock that your words had caused him. "Really?" He asked.

"Yeah." You replied with your eyes trained into nihility.

His eyes drifted away as he pondered on if he should ask or not. Even if he did, he didn't think he'd be much help. Another thought in his head began to plague his mind at that instant. It was what had continued to speak to him the moment he stepped onto this soil, and it never failed to remind him just who it was that he would converse, eat with, and sleep next to.

Six letters and two syllables.

But when did a thirteen year old ever listen to what their mind implored of them?

"Want to talk about it?" He asked hesitantly.

"...No." You whispered weakly, your gaze still. "Do you?"

Static air followed after you had returned his question. You didn't mind his lack of reply and were in fact, content in lingering inside the confines of your own mind, as it was customary on days like those. Your hippocampus shone with glimpses of dirty blonde hair and forest green pearls. Violet blossoms surrounded the person you envisioned, and warmth imbued their embrace. And then it was dusky navy blue eyes that glimmered like stars, and unruly black hair. Curls ghosted the ends of the small tufts that bounced their way around your mind and whispers, belonging to the small voice that you had began to struggle to remember, echoed in your ears.

"There was a man..." He began, though his voice only served as the diegesis to your reminiscent state. "-we met him yesterday." Though your eyes didn't move, your head shifted in his direction to indicate that you were listening. "He lived in Wall Maria, in a village somewhere in the southeast mountains." He sounded fragile when he had spoken of the man that roamed his mind. "...He said it happened at dawn. The animals were roused and there was rumbling that resembled footsteps."

It had clicked then, in your mind, what exactly the story Reiner recounted was explaining. The realization caused you to gaze at his side profile as he continued, "He went to go check, and opened the window..." He didn't have to tell you what it was that the man had found, and your understanding caused your eyes to soften, a minuscule amount of emotion returned to your expression. "The rest was a blur, the only thing he recalled was that he escaped on horse and left behind some kids."

Fight or flight response was a powerful phenomenon and basic human instincts, so you would have never held it against a man that you've never even met. "Is he doing okay?" You asked delicately.

His lashes fluttered and he looked off to the side as he assembled the courage to utter the words on the tip of his tongue. "He hung himself today."

You winced sympathetically and looked forward once again. "Oh... were you two close?" You asked and internally kicked yourself for not bearing the emotional capacity to be more comforting. The truth was, you didn't know how to.

"No, I met him yesterday." He reminded you. "But what's bothering me is that, he must have been planning to do it. So, why would he tell us that, knowing that he was going to do what he did?" He explained further.

You ignored the 'us' and 'we' that he had kept mentioning, in favor of focusing on the meat of his question. "Maybe he just wanted someone to know." You said, twiddling with your fingers as you went into thought.

"What do you mean?" He said and faced you for the first time since he had begun to elucidate his thoughts.

"Well, that's a day that is very hard to forget. It was the day that changed all of our lives, in one way or another, so I highly doubt that anyone who experienced the attack of the Titans has had a single moment of silence in their minds since then. It's like it plays on a loop, whether you're awake or asleep. All the sights, sounds, and most of all, the feelings." You explained as you recalled all that you had felt during those hellish moments. "Now, I wouldn't hold it against the guy for fleeing without those kids, hell- I don't even know his name, so what right would I have? But, I'm sure that he felt different. Even more so because, that was probably the first time he had ever admitted it aloud. I think he just wanted someone to know of the things he hated himself for... before he- y'know..."

His mouth parted in awe as he hummed to himself, and his eyes slowly shifted away from you in deep thought.

As you inspected his face for any signs that you had overstepped, you had grown doubtful in your analysis. "But, then again, those are just my thoughts. And I uh- didn't know the guy so I wouldn't take what I said seriously. Plus, you obviously already knew all about the reoccurring nightmares of that day and the hot flashes because you've lived through the aftermath yourself- so, my bad." You hastily reiterated your words.

"Oh yeah, of course." He forced himself to speak. "That's the part that I- uhm yeah I relate to that." He said and cleared his throat in an attempt to calm himself. "And anyways, don't apologize. We'll never know exactly why he did what he did, but I think that I agree with what you said, and I'm glad he was at least able to vent to me, if that was the case."

You hummed in agreement, "Yeah, I'm sure he appreciated that too." You said and directed a light smile his way for comfort, a gesture he had seemed to appreciate.

More silence billowed in the air around you and unlike the last time, you didn't get trapped in your thoughts, though one did cross your mind. One that you hoped would improve the atmosphere.

"Have you ever built a snowman?" You asked and clenched your fingers as to collect the ice from under you into one of your palms, before raising your hand and separating them to allow the white substance to return back to the ground, for emphasis.

His brow rose in question, "A snowman?"

"Yeah, like a man but one made of snow."

"I know what a snowman is." He deadpanned. "And no, I haven't. Have you?"

"No, but there should be enough snow to make one. Do you want to?" You asked and tipped your head his way, his eyes meeting your own.

A mischievous grin slowly but surely made its way onto his face, the right side of his lips raising first. That in itself was enough of an answer.

You both did your best to gather enough snow to begin to form the bottom portion of the man you were set to create. Without the use of gloves, your fingers began to grow stiff, not to the extent that it had caused you pain but enough that it drew your attention. Though, even with the noticeable stiffness in your fingers, neither one of you faltered in your molding. Although there were no parts of the ground that went uncovered by a sheet of ice, that sheet was thin and, most of the time, every time you attempted to scoop a grander amount into your hands, the ice grew muddy.

Smacking your lips in frustration, you groaned. "Ugh, dammit."

Reiner, who had been crouched a few feet away from you, looked up at the sound of your distress. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're giving up already." He teased.

"No, obviously." Your eyes rolled in displeasure at the notion. "This snow just keeps on gettin' so damn muddy every time I try to scoop too deep." You explained as you flicked your fingers in an attempt to disperse the dirt from your digits.

The dilemma you faced had caught the attention of your companion. His amber irises began to inspect his surroundings as he brushed his palms together and stood on his feet. He approached a tree layered in the white iridescent snow, with few petioles clustered with needles escaping the sheet, and deemed it worthy. "Alright. Get on." He ordered.

The abrupt demand caused an incredulous expression to display onto your face, "Excuse me?" You answered.

In response, he crouched down again and patted the tops of his shoulders, "Hop on."

"Why?"

"Because the trees have plenty of clean snow we can use. I'll give you a boost and you can grab what you can, got it?" He explained.

His demanding attitude caused you to roll your eyes once again, before begrudgingly plodding over to his form in compliance. "Why do men always go 'round actin' like they can order me around?" You asked, rhetorically, though that didn't stop him from hurling the attitude back your way.

"You'll live." He said as you situated yourself as best as you could into a sitting position.

"I better. It would benefit you most if you didn't drop me." You replied and he lifted himself slowly. After he reached his full height, you did your best to gather as many bunches of crystal shavings into the safety of your arms — but as you inspected your surroundings, you had noticed that the higher you looked, the more bundles of frost had gathered onto the tree branches. You hummed softly as you contemplated how to handle your situation, before deciding on the most obvious action.

"What's wron-" Reiner began, only to get bombarded by a countenance full of frozen stardust that had caused him to splutter. He panicked when his legs wobbled slightly and then realized that you decided to take the plunge to stand on his shoulders. "Whoa- what the hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed as he took ahold of your ankles to stabilize your stance.

"I can get greater quality snow the higher up that I go, so quit moving so much and get on your tippy-toes." You justified your actions as your own followed suit.

"You better not step on my face or I swear to the walls-"

A light chortle bounced off of your lips, "You swear to the walls? I've never heard somebody say that here, are you from Stohess or some shit?" You asked sarcastically.

"I don't give a damn, just make sure that I don't get a face full of foot." He gritted as his stance relentlessly swayed back and forth.

You stretched your arm as high as it could reach while the other served as an anchor to the tree. "Almost there-" You murmured as your fingers slowly inched closer to your target. Unfortunately, just as your thumb and index fingers had gotten ahold of the cluster of needles, the entire white sheet that sat atop of it gradually slid down and descended towards your face. Your eyes widened in realization as you emitted a coherent, "Oof-" before your legs gave out and your body plummeted with the blanket of snow hugging your face.

Your form had fallen backwards which had caused the boy supporting you to do the same, creating a domino effect and an intelligible thump as you collided on the ground.

After a few moments of digesting the rumpus events that had occurred, you briskly sat up and shook your head to discard the ice particles that had found themselves tangled within your hair. The eerie silence that followed produced your heart to accelerate in panic, "Reiner?!" You called out.

"M under here." Came a muffled voice.

"Oops, my bad." You apologized. You didn't realize that he had broken your fall, but it explained the painless clash. You pulled yourself off of him and sat beside where he laid.

Finally free of the burden on his chest, he sat up from under the snow with wide eyes and disordered hair. "You almost suffocated me." He accused.

Chuckling at the state he was in, you ruffled his hair and snowflakes flew from his head. "But I didn't."

An obnoxious snort came from the boy and he gently clutched his stomach. "I can't believe you did that, it was so damn stupid." He derided.

Joining him in his laughter, you breathlessly defended yourself, "Stupid, but it got the job done. Look at all the snow we've got to work with now." You gestured to the pile of fluffy powder surrounding your forms.

Satisfied with what the sacrifice had accomplished, he nodded his head in determination and all but leapt back onto his boots. "Let's resume then." He said resolutely and reoccupied himself with rolling a clump of his snow until he had deemed it compacted enough to remain stable. You followed after with your own portion of ice that would soon be the middle of the body.

"Okay, so he's not gonna be as big as I had expected, but that's fine." He articulated his thought process, before turning to you. "Not all men have to be big and tough, right?"

With a faux pout, you began to tease, "Aww, is that what you tell yourself everyday?" You asked as your hands constructed what you planned to make the figures head. "Yes Reiner, you would know that not all men have to be intimidating." You had jested.

Stupefied features painted his face as his brain perceived your words. "What? You don't think I'm intimidating?" He asked you as his hands absentmindedly searched the ground for suitable stones to furnish as eyes.

"Well, you're not much taller than me really." You reminded him as he tossed you the stones he had acquired. "Anyways, I don't think you'd even qualify as a man, yet. Isn't chest hair needed for that or something? I doubt you've hit that milestone." You further expanded your reasoning as to why you didn't find the boy particularly threatening. Perhaps his stature did form most of your opinions on the subject, but you didn't doubt that the empathetic and somewhat sensitive nature he had allowed you glimpses of had also played its part.

His jaw dropped at the audacity you had to utter those words to his face. "I'm like a good couple of inches taller than you." He informed you matter-of-factly.

You embellished the stones like ornaments and meticulously placed two twigs in a downward arch so that your creation could have appeared blissful. "And yet I bet I could still topple you if I tried." You muttered and whether that bold statement was the truth or not did not burden you. Not unless he had suddenly decided to test your theory, but you doubted the thought to go through the effort had even crossed his mind. You sat back and admired your labor, though you noted that you weren't quite finished, as your ice person hadn't donned a nose yet.

In response, the boy mischievously feigned a pout as he observed your concentrated state. His pale fingers steadily inched closer to your most recently added detail and he maneuvered the dark wood in such a way that the arch aimed upwards instead of the latter, making your person don a frown that had replaced the grin you had concocted.

"You're making both men here sad, girl whose name I still don't know." He said woefully, before carving tear tracks onto the apple of the snow persons cheeks with his fingernail.

Indifferent to his fatuous display, you quipped, "Y'know, I'm getting tired of speaking with boys." And carved a set of feminine eyelashes onto the snow person. "That's better. I feel less disgusted."

Your actions only forced him to scoff, and he mimicked the same motions as before to carve a thick line across what would have been the upper lip of your creation, had they truly been personified. "Some guys have long lashes to pair with a thick mustache." He informed you.

Recognizing a challenge, your eyes narrowed playfully and you dragged your finger across the chest, forming arches that indicated the existence of breasts. "I've seen a couple gals with a nice stubble." You added, forcing the grin that threatened to manifest onto your face away, which didn't work as well as you had wanted it to. In fact, it hadn't helped at all.

Reiner, having had been inspired by your bold move, followed with his own. And so on and so forth, until your shared person had barely even been identifiable and the only thought on your mind was how exhilarated the moment of hilarity and bliss you shared with your companion had made you feel.

So, for your final move, your arm reeled back and swung forward with forceful momentum. Your sleeve had made contact with the frigid ice and caused it to disperse every which way, a great amount found its way towards Reiner before he could have even thought to dodge. Without a single flinch, he took it one step further and used his leg to stomp the rest of the form away, the snow doing the same to you as it had done to him previously. Not that the temperature had bothered you, in fact you embraced it as you typically did and vibrantly gleeful giggles spilled from within your vocal cords. Both of your melodies of exuberance mingled and interlaced to form flawless harmonies.

It was in that moment that you noticed, you had not belly laughed in so long, not as you did then. You hadn't felt so light about anything in your entire young life, and with a stranger that had yet to know your name. The pain that enveloped your core earlier that day had subsided and was replaced with a different kind. One that you had found you didn't mind. One that came with tears caused by the exertion of experiencing such pure bliss. One that caused you to cradle your stomach in an attempt to ease the contracting muscles. One that allowed release and transported your body into a state of euphoria. It was a state that you had begun to crave.

And you hated yourself for that.

How dare you experience such a tender emotion, and on that day, of all days. — When the people who deserved it the most weren't there to. How dare you live your life as if they had never existed. How dare you not spend your days mourning in a never ending rotation. How dare you have the will to proceed with your days in spite of what you lost. How dare you even think to ask for more.

And so your feelings of ardor morphed into those of anguish, your roars of hysteric laughter shifted into a paroxysm of cries in agony, and the comforting warmth nestled inside of your chest transformed into a raging inferno in the process of combusting your insides. The twisting and knotting of your lungs had returned and the pressure was slowly killing you from the inside out.

Reiner was stunned at the rate of which your emotions had performed a one eighty. One second he had felt his stomach churning with butterflies and the next, he found that his heart had plummeted and squashed those very insects that littered his insides at the sound of your wails. His eyes that were once shut in ecstasy had grown wide in concern. Your body had begun to curl inwards as you fell to your knees and you bowed your head enough that it met the cold hard ground.

He had no idea of how to react.

"W-what's wrong? Are you hurt- or did I do something?" He asked and you couldn't help but sob louder, your arms moved to enwreathe themselves around your figure. "Do you need water? I can go fetch some fresh if you want or something." He offered desperately in an attempt to find a solution to make your cries subside.

"St-Stefan." You had barely managed to emit the name in between your heaves. It was so faint and muddled that it had forced Reiner to strain his ears to decode what it was that you had asked for and even then he wasn't sure he had heard you correctly.

You just wanted Stefan.

"Is that a friend of yours? Do you want me to go get him? It'll probably take a while for me to get to your settlement and back but maybe if I could help you come with me-"

"He's dead." You breathed. "You can't go get him because h-he's dead!" You spoke with cracks present in your voice that carried its fragility.

In response, the boy froze and his eyes flew to anything but you. While your screams had subsided a small amount, your tears continued their downpour and sharp hiccups came sporadically, they were so powerful that you couldn't have prevented the jolts that ran through your body.

In the end, he had decided to remain quiet and allow you to attempt to regain your composure at your own pace, which you did so. By the time you had felt calm enough to speak, nearly thirty minutes of silence had ensued. You moved to sit crisscross as you trained your heavily lidded eyes ahead.

Even then, you didn't speak right away, only let the words gather on your tongue until it felt right to share them. "It's their birthday." You finally admitted what had been plaguing your mind from the moment the sun peeked over the horizon. "Both of them. Isn't that such a crazy coincidence? Six years apart and they still enjoyed spending it in the same ways too."

Your voice was so small that Reiner didn't dare to interrupt in fear that it might've disappeared completely. He let you unpack what it was that had caused you to sob so uncontrollably, that even mere laughter was enough to break the dam that aided you in retaining such overwhelming emotions.

"I never knew the exact date that I was born, so Stefan... such a kind Stefan, he suggested that I celebrate it on the same day that they did. They both didn't mind sharing with me, even if that meant they had to split the occasion in three." You spoke of the boys fondly and with so much adoration that brimmed your eyes. "I guess that kind of means that today is my birthday too. Although, I'm sure my actual one has passed already. I don't know why I think that way, but I do." You said and your lips had begun to feel chapped. "He would've been thirteen today... and baby Ciel-" Your sentence broke when a wave of hiccups bubbled in your throat as tears had threatened to fall once again. "Cielo would've been seven." You punctuated your statement with a broken sob and your head burrowed into your knees as you hugged your legs against your chest.

Reiner was petrified.

He did not want to know more for he feared that he knew the answer as to why you had spoken of them in past tense. Your confession had served as a sort of wake up call and reminded him once more just why he had arrived at your island in the first place. He wanted to flee and create as much distance as he could have between the two of you because he did not want to face the truth of how his actions had affected the people around him, least of all you. He reminded himself what he had been taught since young, what his people had deemed your own and he wished it didn't cause such an internal conflict. He berated himself for it — why would you, someone he had yet to learn the name of, cause him to question himself and the people that raised him into what he had become? It should not be that way, and especially not on your second meeting.

You were simply someone he had yet to know the name of, is what he repeated to himself... though, he had acquainted himself enough that he wouldn't mind seeing you everyday that would follow if it meant that he would soon learn it.

The mere sight of your form that had become so frangible had hurt him, pierced his heart and dug the blade in deeper with each tremble he saw your body endure. Why it did, he did not know, and though what he yearned for the most right at that moment was to flee, he did the opposite and drew closer.

Because when did thirteen year olds ever pay heed to what their minds pleaded.

Comforting and warmly snug arms swaddled your figure, a sentiment that was foreign to your body; a side effect from the copious amount of nights you had spent laid awake with the same emotions and thoughts plaguing you, though in those instances no consolation was offered. He didn't say a thing but simply embraced what he could of you and listened to you pour your heart out.

"The thing is, I'm not even mad that I spent the whole morning cryin', it's the only thing that I've felt in a while. Most days, I spend my time in the fields to keep busy, but even when I'm not, I just feel so fucking empty. So, in the nights where I do cry myself to sleep, I feel so relieved in the morning because it proves that I'm still human and not losing my mind. So, when I felt anything other than my usual torment, I got so damn mad at myself because, today of all days, my mind decides to make me feel something resembling happiness when really, I should keep crying my eyes out because the people that should be here, aren't." You didn't even realize that was how you had truly felt, but it was true and you allowed your tongue to spill every subconscious thought it had withheld for the first time in a long time.

Seconds of silence turned into minutes and minutes had felt as though they had morphed into hours. You knew that much time could not have passed because while the sun did seem to grow a shade more aureate, its position in the sky did not yet suggest preparation for nightfall. Your swollen eyes and throbbing head almost forced you to doze off in the warmth of Reiners arms, you leaned into him and felt the vibrations of his pounding heart, your own resounding beats following directly after in consonance.

Though, it seemed that he did not intend to stay without words. "You know, birthdays are supposed to celebrate birth." He stated.

Your brow furrowed, "What?"

"Well, and this is gonna sound cheesy but bear with me here, it's called a birthday for a reason." His voice was so mellow, you didn't mind him breaking the silence. "It's not supposed to be a remembrance of death, it's a celebration of the life you've been allowed to live, a celebration of your existence. It's the reason that most people blow out candles, some believe that it's to ward your wishes of purity and a lambent future to whatever god you praise, while others use it as a way to thank them instead, for the aid they have provided in the life they've built."

"And if they don't have a future? What if they truly are gone, what then? And what if the life they have lived wasn't prosperous or anything to be proud of?" You genuinely asked. Both Stefan and Cielo lived a life full of bad deals and if any god had played a hand in that, why would you thank the architect of a dilapidated structure?

"They're never truly gone, not unless you will them to be. You don't have to remember them for what they lost or never attained, but instead, for all their wins and what they gratified."

What he said had made sense to you, and in any other situation, perhaps those words alone would have been enough to persuade your view to change. But, every angle at what the boys had that you descried, you could not fathom what merit their life had possessed. In your eyes, they were robbed of the chance of pursuing further miles stones that they had yearned for, and maybe it was wrong for you to assume as such but those feelings came from a place of deeply rooted love that you harbored for them both.

Hesitantly, he continued, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that your point of view of what they got to experience was not enough, which is fair because, to you they deserved the world. But, have you considered that maybe they saw their life as fulfilled? Or that they were content with the small things they were able to accomplish? And maybe it wasn't, but isn't it better to hold that perspective in your back pocket? As if, if they had the chance to look at what or who they left behind, they would feel it was enough."

"Maybe, but does that mean they're happy to have left me alone? They didn't have to both go."

"Not necessarily in a way that they're glad to have left those things or people behind, but content as in, they trust those people to keep moving forward or maybe even pick up where they left off, in a way."

That was the second instance in which you had doubted your long term goal. Both Stefan and Cielo promised that if they were granted the opportunity at actualizing your aspirations of venturing beyond the walls, they would have taken it without a second thought, and in return, you had promised the same, but in the moment, you were under the impression that you would do so together. Doing something so new, strange, and alien completely terrified you. So, while it was not enough to sway your long term goal in the opposite direction, that conversation fermented the seed of doubt, that had been previously planted by Annie, into your psyche. There was doubt in your road to revenge.

"Or! I could be completely wrong and overstepped my boundaries." He panicked at your silence, his arms and head pulled away hastily.

You faced him and wiped at your nose and cheeks to rid them of the aftermath of your meltdown. "No, it's okay really. I- uhm... needed that. I'm sorry for ruining...whatever that was." You trailed off, not really comprehending where you were headed with the apology.

The ghost of a smirk appeared on his face as he took in your words. "Oh? And what was that?" He jested.

"I just said, 'whatever that was' which means I don't know." You told him with a whimsical eye roll.

He hummed, "What a shame."

"Not really." You added.

He chuckled lightly at your remark before sincerity slipped back into his expression, "But seriously, you don't need to apologize, I get it. And plus, feel free to sucker punch me if I'm overstepping but, today is your birthday, right?" He asked.

You looked at him suspiciously, uncertain at what he was getting at. "Not really, I don't know when mine is. Also, I'm sure it's passed already, like I said earlier. Today is Stefan and Cielo's birthday." You explained, not wanting to make the occasion more for yourself than you already had.

"I'm sure both Stefan and Cielo wouldn't want to celebrate it alone, right?" He told you with hesitance very obviously laid within his tone. He was walking on eggshells as to not tip over on the tightrope of your boundaries, which he had felt like he was dancing on. He also made sure not to ask the forbidden question, one that he ached so badly to ask but he knew the answer would create such a disorder in him.

"You've never even met them."

"Nobody wants to celebrate a birthday by themselves. Who would light their candles?"

"We don't have candles, idiot." You tittered.

He hummed in thought, "Maybe not..." He moved to unbuckle his jacket and pulled out a small black pouch from within a hidden inside pocket. He fluidly untied the knot that sealed the objects inside of the portable bag and stuck his hand inside to search for something specific. Lo and behold, you didn't expect that what he would slip out was a set of matches. "This is survival 101, never leave your post unprepared." He informed you boastfully.

The sight had caused your eyes to widen as you exhaled in surprise. "What- you've got matches?" You whispered.

"Duh." He quipped which caused your astonishment to diminish. "I know they're not candles but this should do. Plus, it's not like we need it to burn for long, just make sure to blow it out quick." He explained.

You shook your head as he further baffled you, "Wait, what? Me? I'm gonna blow it out?" You asked with a finger pointed towards your face.

He mimicked your actions, his own digit being used to emphasize you, "Yes, you. Who else?"

"But why?"

He set his pouch down and opened the small box, sliding the portable miniature torches out and grabbing a singular one, before setting the rest away. "Because, I don't have anything to say to them. Even if today isn't your actual birthday, why wouldn't you want to celebrate it with them? Make a wish, tell them a secret, or simply ask them a question. Either way, once you blow them out, the smoke will ward your words their way. Isn't that a great tradition?" He asked and punctuated his question with the ignition of the little flame in his hands as he settled it between both of your faces.

Although the woods weren't yet a dark abyss, the flickering minute inferno did not fail to set alight Reiner's features. His honeyed eyes seemed to shift a shade deeper, the vibrant saffron flame reflected its visage onto his pupils, a sight that brought among the warmth to your insides once again. The dips and valleys of his face were highlighted, bringing to your attention details that you hadn't before espied. The delicate arch his nose took, the way the hair of his brows were slightly darker than those on his head, the form in which his cheeks were sculpted but still kept their youthful bounce, and even his lips appeared more voluminous due to the shadows on their perimeters. A familiar sensation had arose within you, it caused your mind to grow hazy and your surroundings to darken, and left the boy before you in an angelic halo.

Your enchantment was not one sided, for the flames glow had enhanced your profile as well. Both of your gazes connected in the illusion of being the sole inhabitants of the land from with you plucked and plowed each day. The flickering of the match before you had awoke you from its spell and reminded you of the fact that you were merely two humans in a world overrun by mindless monsters.

You cleared your throat and directed your eyes downward before you swallowed and set your sight onto the object in the hands in front of you. "Uhm, so do I say it out loud or-" You begun.

He visibly flinched in response to being awoken out of his delusion and looked anywhere besides the face he was caught memorizing. "Oh, yeah. I mean, no! You have to say it in your head otherwise it won't ring true." He explained before lowering his voice for the latter part of his instructions. "And you have to uhm... tell me your name. Cause, I have to say it for this to work." He added. "Rules are rules, you know."

"Oh, really?" You said, a brow lifted and your lips did not attempt to hide your forthcoming smirk.

"Yes." He nodded curtly.

"Y/N."

A smile carved itself onto his face as he took in the sound of your name for the very first time, of many to come. "Okay, Y/N." He nodded and tried the foreign word on his tongue; which slipped out as smoothly as fall honey. "Make your wish."

In preparation to speak to the loved ones you had lost, you sat on your knees and scooted closer to the light. You closed your eyes and searched deep within your cavernous soul for the words you craved to direct to the afterlife, if such a place existed. You asked yourself, if you had one last chance to ask or dispatch your words to both Stefan and Cielo, which ones would you choose? And you steeled yourself, and allowed your phrases and vocables to rebound throughout your mind, while you inhaled the strength to proceed.

'I hope I make you proud.'

And then, the once dancing flame, extinguished.

Fun fact: Remember that flower crown mentioned in the scene of Stefan’s death? Yeah, he was making that for you before… yk: 💀☠️

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