#i actually have no idea how many chapters this trip will end up being

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #canxnt #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame Chapter 1

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter tags/warnings: not much yet, age gap, fluff, reader being horny (c'mon y'all it's me what do you expect), Javier being gorgeous, erotic novels honorable mention, mentions of cheating, stuff I'm probably forgetting

Chapter summary: You meet a beautiful stranger at the farmer's market. Is he what you need to get back on your feet?

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so very excited about starting this series! I have so many plans, and I can't wait to share them with you! Please keep in mind that this story will get darker the more it progresses. Thank you for reading!

***

You’ve been back in your hometown for about three months now. Three miserable and exhausting months. 

You’ve been working on the family farm four days a week, ten hours a day, every week since you got back. You figure it wouldn’t be so bad if you got to have the other three days off, but no. Those days are spent at the local farmer’s market, sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the sticky Texan heat. 

It doesn’t even matter that you wear a tank top and shorts to the market, you feel like you’re going to melt every damn time you have to go. The same goes for working on the farm, only you’re less fortunate in that situation. You know it’s smarter to wear jeans out there, so most of the time you do.

You’re trying to be grateful to your parents, you really are. They just make it so damn hard sometimes. Sure, they gave you a job when you needed one, but they never stop talking about how they were right. And they were, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. 

Your mom and dad never approved of your boyfriend, and had told you as much. You chose to ignore that fact considering they said that about every boyfriend you ever had. How the hell were you supposed to know if they were actually concerned, or if they just didn’t want you to date?

They had warned you about him. Told you that he wasn’t genuine, that you need to be careful. They told you the same about your so-called “best friend”, who was the person you found your boyfriend balls deep inside of three months ago.

But, of course, despite their protest, you had moved out with him anyway. Spent your savings on renting an apartment that he put practically nothing into. In retrospect, you really should have known; there were so many signs. You were just too damn stubborn to see them. You never would have guessed that he would go as far as to cheat on you.

Your own poor choices are what ultimately landed you back here, getting out of your dad’s old truck to unload a creaky table to set up the stand at the farmer’s market. Again. You roll your eyes and pop your earbuds in, putting on your favorite playlist. 

You open the back of the truck and start to drag the plastic table out. It slides across the bed effortlessly thanks to the morning dew it’s been sitting out in. Unfortunately, that detail is another pain in the ass more than anything, because you end up getting half-soaked as you haul it into the giant tent that makes up the market.

You get it set up in an empty booth, smacking the rusted hinges to get it to stand without risk of collapse. After you lean on it to make sure it won’t fall, you return to the truck to start the endless trips of carrying produce to the stand. You usually make your younger sister help you with this part since she often tags along, but, being a senior in highschool, she couldn’t make it today. 

Once you have everything put together and displayed on various shelves, you take a seat in the foldable chair you had brought with you. You expect it will be a slow day, as Mondays usually are, so you brought a book to pass the time. 

You rarely sell anything on weekdays, you have no idea why your parents are so adamant about you coming all the way out here every monday since you got here. Maybe it’s just to get you out of the house—you wouldn’t put it past them.

You take one more look around the market to make sure there’s nobody approaching your stand before you open your book to the first page. It’s a newer, trashy romance. It’s a little embarrassing, sure, but you like what you like. 

Sometimes you swear your love life is awful or boring enough for you to actually wish to be in the place of the girls in your books. At least the fictional men seem genuine. Less likely to cheat on you with your best friend, you think bitterly. 

Less likely to manipulate into moving into an expensive apartment without helping, Less likely to treat you like shit. Plus, you probably wouldn’t mind the fact that they all seem to be absolute hunks and amazing in bed.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startles you from your spiraling thoughts, your cheeks reddening once you realize you have been staring blankly at the same page for a good few minutes. 

You have to steady yourself so you don’t drop your book on the dirt below you, which has you almost falling out of your chair in the process. 

You glance up at the stranger as you situate yourself, which doesn’t do much to help. The man is drop-dead fucking gorgeous. He’s staring down at you, clearly amused. His full lips are tugged up into a half-smirk. You think for a second that he looks familiar, but you would for sure remember seeing a man like this.

His hair is dark, a bit long and shaggy, but in the way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. He wears sunglasses, you notice with disappointment. You don’t know why you have such a strong urge to see what’s hidden under there. You’re guessing they’re brown. He seems to carry a kind aura, it’s a fitting idea that his eyes would be warm.

Even though you sense such a kindness emanating from him, there’s an annoying nagging from the back of your head that makes you uneasy. His stare is almost imposing, the way he carries himself adding so much to the effect. Your stomach bunches up in a frustrating way that signifies both anxiety and lust. You don’t really care much to figure out which is dominant at the moment. 

All you know is that you’re drawn to this man like a moth to a flame, and that after all you’ve been through, you deserve to admire him at the very least. It’s not often you come across such a good looking man. A fictional looking man. 

He cocks his head after you stare for what could probably be considered a second too long. Your face must be about the shade of a tomato at this point. The weight of an object in your hand quickly reminds you of the task at hand. 

This is a potential customer. You need to stop staring like a schoolgirl. Besides, he must be what… ten, fifteen years older than you? God, you can’t even tell. He looks mature, but somehow ageless at the same time. He has strong, masculine features, but a sort of boyish quality, too. If someone told you he was some kind of a god himself, you would have no trouble believing them.

“I-I’m so sorry, let me just put this down,” you say to the god, trying not to stumble over your own words after getting caught ogling. 

“No problem at all, sweetheart,” he says, clearly unbothered. Fuck, his voice. It’s deep and rich, and he has some sort of accent,  like he grew up speaking another language. Spanish? Probably spanish. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Down, girl.

You take a breath in through your nose, willing yourself to relax as you set your book down on the table in front of you. You resist the urge to shut your eyes out of embarrassment as he looks down at the erotic cover, and then back at you with an arched brow and an amused smile. You move quickly as you snatch the book back to flip it back-side-up.

“What can I get for you, sir?” you quietly attempt to move on from that interaction, trying to reign in some of your composure. He’s standing with one hand on his hip, which is jutted out just slightly. He licks his plush lips and stands up mostly straight before he speaks. He pulls a piece of paper out of his snug back pocket and starts to read off of it. 

Your face keeps a nice flush as he reads off of his list. Your core throbs every now and again as he talks, making it a bit hard for you to concentrate, but you’re pretty sure you got everything. 

You nod at him to let him know as much before you get up to collect everything. Who knows if your voice even works right now. You do your best to ignore the weight of his stare on your back as you move around.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” he says, obviously wanting to start a conversation. “You been here long?”

“No, not really,” you say, trying to level your voice as you place produce into bags. “Well, kind of. I grew up here but I moved away a few years ago. Only been back for a couple months now. I’m staying to help my parents for a bit before I can get back onto my feet,” you finish as you secure the last bag. 

You look up as you place the goods on the table, this time meeting the man’s uncovered eyes. Brown and expressive, just as you imagined. You smile absentmindedly, and he mirrors your action, making your stomach twist once again. What a fucking smile. 

“Well, welcome back, then,” he says. “I’m Javier. Prefer it if you would call me Javi, though.” 

“Javi it is,” you say, liking the feel of his name on your tongue. You tell him your name and he nods. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

Fuck this man, he has to know what he’s doing. 

“Thank you,” you say, trying to control the pitch of your voice. 

He watches you as you place his bags on the table in front of you, now full of his requested items. As you catch his gaze, everything around you seems to fade to black. No sounds, no movement. All you can focus on is the sudden electric current that is born between the two of you. 

A nervous flutter starts in your stomach, but you just can’t bring yourself to look away, as if the attraction would be broken and gone forever if you did. The two of you hold eye contact for what could be a minute or ten before someone walks past your stand, drawing your attention back to reality.

You both let out a breath you’ve been holding, yours probably more shaky than his. You shake your head and start to add up his total after wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts. He stands back on his heels, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watches you work.

It only takes a moment. You tell him his total and he slides his wallet out, handing you the exact cash. You both thank each other at the same time, making you giggle. He smiles wider at the sound. 

“You’ve got a nice laugh, sweetheart,” he complements warmly. 

“Thank you. I made it myself,” you joke. Javi chuckles to himself, almost like he’s surprised to hear you make a joke. “Sorry,” you say, laughter in your own voice. “That was kind of lame.” 

“No, that was pretty clever, actually,” he says through his smile. 

You let yourself get one more good look as you reciprocate the gesture, fully expecting him to part ways. He doesn’t though, instead he asks you the one question you had hoped that nobody would ask you. 

“What brought you back here?” 

Your smile drops slightly and you consider lying to him, telling him that your parents wanted your help and that’s all. You know you can’t, though. There’s no point in trying to hide the truth. Nothing stays hidden in this small town. 

So you don’t. You sum up every stupid, unfair thing that made you return home. There’s a flash of sympathy in his gaze that makes you want to shut up, but some sick part of you craves that sympathy at the same time. 

It only takes you a couple minutes to have everything out, but he stays quiet and patient the entire time. Never interrupting you once and nodding along at all the right parts to let you know he’s listening. 

You haven’t felt this seen in a long time, It feels good. It makes you want to wrap yourself up in this total stranger’s arms and beg him to hold you. Fuck, now you’re picturing that. You need to not picture that. Luckily you don’t have much of a chance to, because he’s responding to you only a few seconds after you finish. 

“Well, that’s a damn shame. Fuckin’ boys don’t even know how to treat a sweet girl anymore.” Javi says, making you blush once again. 

The attention he gives you feels the same as jumping into a cool pool after being in the sun all day. It’s unbelievably refreshing to hear something like that instead of the usual scolding and ‘I told you so’s.  

He seems to put thought into what comes out of his mouth, and it genuinely makes you feel like he cares. Like he wants to make sure you hear what you deserve to hear.

“What makes you so sure I’m sweet?” you ask playfully, trying to change the topic to ignore the craving for more kind words. Might as well flirt a little while you’re at it, you figure. What can it hurt?

“Just a hunch,” he says, his tone the same as yours as his smile crinkled eyes bore into yours. You nod a little, your adoring smile never wavering.

 You both notice the small line of people beginning to form behind Javi at the same time. He almost looks disappointed at the sight, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. 

“Just one second, honey,” he says, digging the scrap of paper from before out of his pocket again. Once he has that laid against the table in front of him, he supplies a pen from the front pocket of his shirt. He uses it to scribble something down onto the paper. 

You crane your neck slightly to try to catch a peak, but you can’t tell with how fast he’s writing. When he’s done, he folds it once, slides it your way, and gives a singular nod. 

“See you around, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to leave. 

“Yeah. See you,” you mumble under your breath as you watch him stride away, bags of produce in hand.

A woman walks up to the table, and you quickly turn to her. 

“So sorry about that. How can I help you?” you ask quickly, eyeing the paper Javi left behind.

It only takes you a little while to get everyone who was in line checked out, but it feels like it could have been hours. As soon as the last customer starts to walk away, your hands are on the note, shakily unfolding it to reveal Javi’s (suitably) scratchy handwriting. 

You see what you can only assume to be his phone number, and above it, there’s a note. 

“I would love to see you again, sweet girl. Give me a call?” 

Your heart flutters as you bite your lip and read the note over again. There’s no way you’re not taking up that offer. 

***

Thank you so much for reading!! I would absolutely love any kind of feedback so I know where everyone's at on this!! I have a tag list open for this series if anybody would like to join <3

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @survivingandenduring @kewwrites (pls lmk if these tags worked!)

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #fluff #dark javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #narcos #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #dark pedro pascal

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 2

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: none — I’ll change it to E when we get there (slow burn, forced proximity, age gap — no age actually mentioned but rather more implied through lack of life experience, competence kink, hunting)

Summary: Part of a band of travelers, your party is slowly picked off one by one, until there are only two of you left. Finding an abandoned cabin in the woods, you decide to make camp there until you figure out your next move. As the seasons change, the nights get longer and longer…..

A/N: a truly endless amount of thank you’s to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who took SO MUCH TIME to make this actually coherent, and @mourningbirds1 who always asks the best, most inspiring questions. I love you both ❤️ Enjoy!

Chapter One

--

He shouldn’t be encouraging this. 

He shouldn’t. 

His head bowed, his steps careful as his eyes scan the forest floor for animal tracks, he had thought the wide open forest and a temporary relief from your close presence would help clear his head, but it doesn’t.

The bright optimism in your eyes flits through his mind, the confidence in how you told him about the various plants you chose to start with and why, the content smile on your face as you went about your tasks this morning. Cleaning out the old pots, filling them with fresh soil, setting up an area in the kitchen near the window to keep them safe. 

He should have said something then, but he didn’t. 

Should have said no to begin with, but he couldn’t. 

The night you had suggested the garden, he watched you leave the room and felt the urge to call you back, but like many urges he has where you’re concerned, he resisted. Hated himself for immediately shutting down your idea, but reasoned that you were too naive for your own good anyway. 

It makes him angry, your hope. He wants to stomp it out of you, harden you like he’s been forced to harden, solely because it will give you the best chance at survival in this world. 

That’s what he should do, but the second he had found himself unable to say no, he laid bare a dormant part of him that he had been denying for a while: another piece of him that wants you to keep that innocence. Unable to fathom how you’ve kept it this long, he wants to protect it, like those seeds. Keep it tucked away from the ugly world, save both it and you from waste and ruin. 

He hears the whisper of ferns brushing against each other, sees them moving out of the corner of his eye, and he crouches low, listening. Reaching back, he pulls an arrow from the pack he has on his back and, keeping his eyes on the bush, notches it in his bow. 

He waits, still and silent. 

He had stayed awake long into that night, thinking about how you were right. Every settlement is a nightmare, FEDRA no better than the free cities, smuggling a dangerous game that would most likely end in death the longer he kept on doing it. It’s not something that had really bothered him before – the thought of dying – but that was when it was just him. 

For you, it didn’t sit right. 

For you, he can’t let that happen. He won’t. 

He had gotten up from the couch to pace, mindlessly scanning the bookshelves as his brain ran through every scenario. Stopping on a gardening book, he had decided that if you wanted to make it work, then he was going to do it right. Keep some of that innocence of yours while also being smart about it. 

It’s not that you couldn’t hold your own. He has seen it before, but there is still so much that you don’t know. The sole idea of staying in this cabin betrayed your naivety, highlighting what he had already been fighting with himself throughout this entire trip: teach you, so you’d be ready, or keep you from it, so it wouldn’t be your burden to carry. 

If you are going to stay here, that changed things. 

He should teach you basic skills: how to hunt, how to set traps, how to properly handle a gun if you need to. You could do it if you had to, but you aren’t great. Inexperienced, at best, and as he waits there in the grass, he makes a mental list in his head of the topics he should cover. 

Maybe if he focuses his energy on teaching you those things, he can stop thinking about what it would be like to teach you other things. Not that he knows if you need teaching in those areas, but the idea had taken root weeks ago in his dreams and refused to let go. 

Waking up hard and aching every morning, trying to close his eyes and will it away — being ashamed of those thoughts though unable to stop them from happening, he shoved them down deep, just like he shoved you away.

Or tried to, anyway.

Impatient, harsh, taking advantage of how intimidated you are of him, he’s been gruff and dismissive, but you followed him all the same. Sticking to him like a shadow because of the protection he offers and he knows that’s part of the problem. The real reason you bleed into his dreams every night, because you’re constantly around him and on his mind every hour of the day.

A sort of misplaced attraction due to proximity alone, just like your own is due to his protectiveness - that’s all. 

He has protected you, and he still does. He will protect you from what’s out there, including himself.  

He sees the flash of shine, the animal’s eye catching the sunlight, and his fingers react on instinct, letting the arrow loose.  

Finding its target, the plant stops moving.

–

“I was good with my hands, but I was never good at that.” Joel gestures at the pot in front of you, leaning against the wall as he watches. “I always killed ‘em all.”

You laugh, gently tamping down the cool soil with your fingers. “You? Big bad Joel Miller? There’s something you’re bad at?” 

You haven’t seen it. Not yet, anyway. 

A small smile curls under his mustache. “Hard to believe, I know.”

Late afternoon sunlight streams through the now clean windows, and you shake your head at him, reaching into the bucket next to you. Pulling out another fist full of loose soil, you sprinkle it over the surface of the pot.

“Well, good thing I was always good at it.” 

You were. Had once thought it a relaxing, mindless hobby. Houseplants all over your apartment, you had found it fulfilling when something bloomed and blossomed and grew. Loved the delicate sloping vines, the broad leaves that reached for the sun, the endless shades of green. 

This new version of the world holds growth as well, but it isn’t the same. It is chaotic and overwhelming, plants and roots and whole trees sprouting from beneath the concrete, overtaking whole structures as it takes back what once belonged to it. You find beauty in it still, but sometimes the growth is disgusting and horrifying – when it’s the unnaturally colorful warning of fungus instead of plants, and when it’s a body buried underneath instead of a building. 

Pouring a little water into the soil, you think about the tiny red watering can you had, the reminder of the mundane action that used to bring you so much joy weighing heavy on your chest for a moment as your hands wipe together to brush off the dirt. 

He pushes off the wall and steps closer — always stays close, even inside, just in case. 

The swirl of his protective presence is a heady one, and you’ve become so used to it that you feel a perceptible absence when he’s not in the cabin. The same orbit pulls you unconsciously into his direction now, tilting your body to the side so he can get a better look. 

“This one should bud fairly fast, according to the packet,” you say, trying hard not to noticeably breathe in his warm scent. He doesn’t often get this close, and you hold as still as possible to encourage him to stay. “Then we can move it outside.”

He says nothing, his skepticism apparent through his silence, and you turn your head, looking at him. The wiry patch of gray that gathers at the edge of his jaw calls out for your touch, the light strands threaded among the dark, and you keep your eyes on it for a moment, tearing them away when he looks at you. His eyes focus on yours, a pull of something filling the air between you for a weighted beat, and then he shifts his gaze back to the pot. 

“We’ll see.”

You roll your eyes at his ever-present pessimism, opening your mouth to ask him what he had meant about being good with his hands before since he’s never talked about before with you, but he stands, talking first.

“I was thinking this morning,” he starts, leaning against the wall again. “I should teach you how to hunt.” He pauses, his expression shifting into something more resolute. “I’m going to teach you how to hunt.”

You look up at him, wide eyed and questioning, and he meets your eyes again for a moment before looking away, directing his words at the floor. 

“You should probably know how to do it, if we’re gonna stay out here. Just in case something happens to me, and I can’t do it.”

Your face goes still at the thought, and he backtracks, “Like if I get sick or something. Can’t get outta bed.”

“Knowing you, old man, you’ll be faking. Anything to stay in bed longer.”

He huffs, amused. “It’s a pretty comfortable one, I have to admit. It’s been nice not sleeping on the ground.” 

The beds are better than the ground for comfort, but you liked the ground for safety. Better to have him close should you need him, and you assume he feels the same way, given the way he conveyed his displeasure with the distance wordlessly, insisting the doors stay open at all times. 

“We better go before the sun goes down, try to get more than I got this morning.” His eyes flick over to the hallway. To your open door, the privacy of your room just beyond. 

“Sure. Just lemme get dressed.” 

Standing to carry the pot over to the window sill, you arrange it just so, right next to the other seedlings, and when you turn to head towards your bedroom, you feel his eyes on you until you’re out of his sight.  

–

Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk behind him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you follow without question. You’ve followed them for months now, those shoulders ones that you’ve seen damp with rain, covered under the taut drum of his flannel, tight and tense in unfamiliar territory and now, relaxed and loose, as he walks over to the now still bush.

“Did you get it?”

He nods in your direction, crouching with a soft grunt. “Yea. I got this one, next one is you.”

“You’ve always done it,” you grumble to yourself, watching the path. Your heart aches for the animal, but you’d never admit that softness to him. You know you have to eat, but to see it happen, to be the one who kills something so innocent - that’s a whole other matter. 

You should be used to it by now. But while you have been able��to justify killing people as a means to survive, knowing they would do the same to you if given the chance, you still get slightly squeamish about doing it to animals just minding their own business.

“You wanna stay out here, you’re gonna have to learn sooner or later.” He reaches down, grabbing the small, limp rabbit by the ears, and it hangs dead in his grip, not as heavy as he hoped. He stands and turns, leading you deeper into the woods. 

Your fingers catch on the feather light branches of ferns, everything a wash of muted color as dusk descends, and it’s peaceful in your mutual silence, the woods around you alive with its own sounds. 

“We can wait here,” he says, stopping at the edge of a small clearing. The leaves of the trees rustle in the wind, a rabbit popping out long enough to hide behind some tall grass nearby, and he crouches low, your body automatically following his lead. 

“Normally you wanna keep walking. You can scare em’ out of the bushes that way. Rabbits, you let em’ know you’re coming. It’s deer you gotta stay silent for.”

You plant a knee in the moist earth, dampness creeping through your jeans, and he fixes something on his bow. Your eyes rest on the skillful way his fingers move along the bow string, the size of them compared to the delicate wood. 

Satisfied, he holds it out to you with an expectant look. 

“Show me how you’re gonna hold it.”

Unsure, you hesitate before you take it from him, but he waits patiently all the same. You’ve never held a bow before and when you look down at it for a beat too long, he shifts until he’s right next to your side. 

“Like this,” he says quietly. 

He positions your body how he wants it, the practiced weight of his hold guiding you into place, and you let him do it, trying to ignore the increasing thrum of your heart. Something stirs deep in your belly, arousal beginning to bud and unfurl, and then his calloused hand is sliding down your forearm, wrapping your fingers around the bow. 

“Hold it up, and look with your dominant eye. Like when you shoot.”

You test it out, closing one eye and then the other, the tip of the arrow visually landing directly in the middle of a thicket of tall grass. 

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his drawl curling low in your ear and a shiver rolls through you under your jacket, your fingers starting to tremble. He sees it, placing his hand on top of yours with a reassuring squeeze, and you hold your breath. 

“They always come out at dusk,” he says softly, the husk of his voice matching the low lit setting. “That and right away in the morning.” He glances at you with a smirk. “Thought you’d prefer this with how you like to sleep in.”

You can’t turn your face to look at him, lest your mouth brush his, and so you breathe out a laugh instead. 

“Very funny,” you whisper. 

Your leg cramping slightly in your tense position, you shift a little and he places his hand on the small of your back to steady you. 

“You wanna look for something shining in the dark. Their eyes, you’ll be able to see them. They reflect whatever light is around, and you’ll see it flash if you’re patient.”

You keep your eyes trained on the spot, a slight rustle to the brush, and focusing there with intensity, you wait, slipping into a sort of trance. His closeness is intoxicating, the solidness of his hold still pressing lightly into you, his voice a gentle, guiding murmur as the woods grow darker around you. 

His voice lingers in your mind, catching on every ridge, embedding itself and playing on a never ending loop. He’s spoken more to you today than he ever has, and every word has been a piece of useful information - things you’re trying hard to hold onto, but he’s making it difficult with how overwhelming his presence is. The way he’s guiding you with that soothing, low voice makes you think about what other things he can talk you through in the middle of the quiet night. 

You swallow hard, your mouth dry, and he looks from the bush to you, a frown pulling between his brows. 

The grass rustles again, and between the blades of ferns, you see it - a sudden flash of something shining.

“There,” he whispers urgently, prompting you to let the arrow loose, but you don’t. Instead you find yourself hovering on the edge, hesitating just long enough for the animal to sense you, and it moves suddenly with a thrash, bounding away. 

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What happened? Why didn’t you shoot?”

You look at him, the words pulling you from your head. Your eyes are hooded with want, your mouth slightly parted and his own gaze narrows in something akin to recognition, but it disappears from his face before you’re sure. He stands, getting some distance between the both of you. 

“Nevermind. It’s fine.” He won’t look at you, instead letting his gaze rest somewhere out in the field, and your head clears as the thick tension you felt earlier dissipates into thin air, vanishing into the twilight. 

“I think you’ve had enough for today. We can uh – we can pick up tomorrow. It’s getting dark anyway.” He stands there for a moment, weight shifting from one leg to the other while he taps the edge of his thumb against his thigh, and then he’s gone, leaving you sitting there alone. 

–

Choosing to dress the rabbit he shot earlier alone down by the water, you prepare everything else inside. You watch him make the pit, his thighs taut in their crouch as he prepares it to burn hot and low, and when he’s done cooking, you eat together in relative silence. 

He hasn’t said anything about your lesson or about picking it up tomorrow, but the way he won’t meet your eyes has embarrassment and shame coursing through you. Becoming a burden to him is something that you can’t afford and taking his avoidance of the topic as disappointment, you are stewing on apologizing when he clears his throat, sitting forward with his forearms resting on his knees. 

“I’m gonna set some traps tomorrow. I think you should help me, so you know where they are.” He brings his eyes up to yours for the first time since he’s come inside. “And so I can show you how to set them.”

Relief washes through you, and you nod, agreeing “I’m sorry, by the way. About earlier.” He frowns in confusion, and you clarify. “With the rabbit. Sorry I didn’t shoot. I’ll – I’ll try harder next time. Focus, like you asked.”

You had been focusing, just on the wrong thing, and his frown gives way to a look of understanding.

“Don’t worry about it. Your first time holding a bow, wasn’t it? Wasn’t expecting you to actually make a kill or anything. Just wanted to get you used to it.”

Second chances are something you aren’t often afforded, but here it’s different. Here, you can take your time and learn without the pressure of death as a consequence for your mistake, and it’s like he knows it too, with how understanding he’s being. 

He stands, preparing to do his usual checks for the night while you gather the dishes and place them in the sink for washing tomorrow. He grabs his rifle from the counter, leaving the cabin to walk the perimeter and then comes back in with a stomp of his boots on the rug to check every lock, scanning the forest through the window before he tells you he’s going to turn in for the night. 

“Goodnight,” you say, settling in to read on the couch. 

Delighted to find a bookshelf in nearly every room, you had spent the last couple of days going through the titles, selecting the ones you wanted to start with and reorganizing the shelf in your room to store them.

Assembling your own personal library, Joel’s face had been amused as he watched you, and you had thought maybe he would say something to discourage it. At the very least make a teasing comment, but he had held back.

Victory was yours later when you spied a worn western on his bedside table, the paperback lying open, face down.

You read for about an hour, your eyes eventually burning with tiredness in the low, flickering light of your lantern, and deciding to also turn in, you glance at that western when you pass by his bedroom. 

Stopping in the shadowed doorway, you look at him for a moment.

His broad back facing you, his shoulders are a steady, slow rise and fall. He shifts, rolling onto his stomach and the t-shirt he’s wearing strains tight across his torso as he bunches his pillow, adjusting it under his head. You see a sliver of his back in the darkness, a slice of it beneath the hem of his shirt, and the dip of his spine leads downwards, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Crawling into your own bed with your door open, you lie in the darkness and concentrate on the sensation of warm, firm velvet skimming under the pads of your fingers, his back still on your mind.

Crawling into your own bed with your door open, you lie in the darkness and concentrate on the sensation of warm, firm velvet skimming under the pads of your fingers, his back still in your mind.

Stopping in the shadowed doorway, you look at him for a moment.

His broad back facing you, his shoulders are a steady, slow rise and fall. He shifts, rolling onto his stomach and the t-shirt he’s wearing strains tight across his torso as he bunches his pillow, adjusting it under his head. You see a sliver of his back in the darkness, a slice of it beneath the hem of his shirt, and the dip of his spine leads downwards, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Satisfied that he seems to be okay, you crawl into your own bed and with your door open and lying in the darkness, you drift off to the sensation of firm, warm velvet skating under the pads of your fingers, his back still in your mind.

#joel miller/reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter ten (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter ten: the truth

chapter summary: seonghwa needs a friend and you say goodbye to your friends and goodbye to them as tour begins.

warnings: nothing too explicit except there is a frank discussion about alpha/omega/beta dynamics and pack dynamics that somewhat mirror real life lgbtqia+ issues like family not being accepting, societal pressures, etc.

notes: thank you all for waiting for me, i can't thank you enough honestly. it took a while to push through and get through the middle of this fic, but we're there. today (12.3) is a special update day, i'm posting three chapters - ten, eleven, and twelve. make sure you're reading in order starting here!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5k

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Surprisingly the next few weeks pass with relative ease. It’s not painful like before, the crushing weight of their cold isolation. This time you all know exactly where you stand, and with you asking them for space it feels like you’re a little more in control of when and how the next conversation with them occurs. 

You spend the weeks working, keeping things cordial in the studio, and seeing your friends. Keeping things busy gives you less time to step back into that studio room and wonder what you should have done differently, so you fill your schedule up to the brim. In looking forward to the tour and the impending lack of your social circle, you start to reach out little by little to other members of the BB Tripping group too. 

There’s a gap in your life without them, but for now that has to be okay. For now, you grow your life in every other way you can. 

You’re able to focus on everything else until Seonghwa calls. 

Little cafe meetups aren’t out of the ordinary for you both, but meeting at a new spot halfway across Seoul is. You’re normally so attached to the neighborhoods around the studio, so the idea that you’d actually have to take the subway and follow directions on your phone sends little warning signals up your back. He sounded mostly fine on the phone, but something a little whispered in his tone left you agreeing to meet immediately. 

He said he just wants to see you one more time before the tour, but you feel the strange bubble of pretense around the whole set up. When you finally get there, after thirty minutes and much confusion, he meets you at the door with a clear expression of relief. He buys you a coffee and a fancy tiered pastry, and then shuffles you towards the empty, far end of the cafe. 

“The trip wasn’t too bad?” He checks as he pulls out your chair, “I wanted to try this place,” 

A smooth lie, but you’ll let it go, “It was fine,” you assure him, “this street is cute,” 

“Mm,” He nods. 

You have so, so many questions, but you start small, “Three months,” you sigh, settling into the seat, “it feels kind of weird,” 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa pushes your chair in and takes his own seat, “it’s hard to pack for a tour,” 

“I can’t even imagine,” You grimace. 

“You get really sick of miniature toiletries after about a week,” He says, “and you’d think that all the travel would be great, but you end up sitting in hotel rooms most of the time.” 

“Well,” You shrug, “you can always call me for an update on the studio,” 

“Oh, I will,” He laughs, “the time difference is pretty tough though,” 

“Still,” You insist, “we’ll make it work.” 

Silence lulls between you, he nods at your words but doesn’t say much else, and you watch as he fingers fiddle with the handle of his cup, restless and seemingly on edge. He needs something, you just don’t know what. 

“Seonghwa,” You murmur, “is everything okay?” 

“Yes,” He drops his hand into his lap, “completely fine,” 

You chew the inside of your lip, wondering whether to press him, “Are you sure?” 

He looks down for a moment and then nods, “Everything is fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something,” 

“Okay,” 

“Me and San,” He says in a rush of exhaled breath. 

“Oh,” Your eyes widen, completely blindsided by his words. You thought if he chose to share this with you it would be months, years even. He was so closed off after your heat that you assumed you’d let it lie, just like Wooyoung, but here you are. 

“You said I could talk to you about this,” He continues when he sees your expression, “but if,” 

“Of course you can,” You shake off your expression as fast as you can, “I just didn’t know that’s what you were going to say.” 

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” He says, “especially considering everything you’ve been dealing with,” 

You nod, but keep quiet. 

“I don’t know, I thought it would be good to get it out there,” He confesses. 

“Then I’m here, I’m listening,” You lean forwards, nodding again in encouragement. 

He takes a moment to get his words together, and it suddenly makes sense why he wanted to try a cafe in a neighborhood neither of you lived or worked near. He reached out to you to talk about this, to finally share with someone, and he wanted to be one hundred percent sure no one from your lives would overhear. 

“Our thing,” Seonghwa nods and you know he means his relationship with San and Wooyoung, “it started off a lot like yours.” He doesn’t need to say their names, you know who he means.  

You smile, “Accidental and stressful?” 

“Definitely accidental,” He nods, “we had been friends for years, and Wooyoung always dealt with his heats outside of work and without us really knowing much about it,” 

“Really?” You find that hard to believe with how much he overshares. 

“Mhm,” Seonghwa turns the cup on his saucer one way and then back the other as he figures out how to start. “Usually anyways, but about two years ago he was out for his heat leave like normal, and he called San in a panic. The alpha he arranged to meet flaked out on him and he was too far gone at some heat hotel in Incheon. He didn’t have anything he needed, the alpha was supposed to bring it all,” 

“God,” You grimace at the thought. 

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “he was in a lot of pain and he was really scared,” 

“Of course,” 

“San called me,” Seonghwa explains, “he was nervous about spending Wooyoung’s heat with him, even though he agreed.” 

You nod, but stay quiet to give him the space to continue. 

His eyes dart down, a little unfocused as he sinks into the memory of it, “He was so concerned about hurting Wooyoung or doing the wrong thing, and he was begging me to give him advice. Advice just turned into me offering to drive him to Incheon and helping him shop for supplies, and before you knew it I was up in the room with them both.” 

“Wooyoung was okay with that?” You ask. 

He nods, “Wooyoung was fine, more interested in making sure neither one of us was uncomfortable between his heat spikes,” 

You nod again. 

Seonghwa looks back up to you then and sighs, “Before Youngie’s heat, I had a bit of a crush on San. It was really nothing, just a bit of a flirtation in my mind. Someone to think about alone at night, you know,” 

“Yeah,” You think of Yunho for a brief, flashing second and the way you used to watch him around the studio. 

“But that heat changed everything,” He smiles, a little sadly, “I think you know what I mean.” 

You fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand, fearful that you might break his willingness to open up. 

“The funny part,” He says, a fresh crease between his brows, “is that San felt the same way. We both knew alpha pairings were a little unorthodox, but for a while we didn’t care. We carried on for a few months, but we kept it quiet so it didn’t interfere with work or any of our friendships.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Wooyoung still doesn’t know about that part,” He says quietly, “so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us,” 

“Of course, Hwa,” 

“Things started to go further though. We were going on dates without calling them dates, sleeping at each other’s places, leaving things behind. We were texting all the time, sneaking kisses in the locker room,” He explains, “we just couldn’t leave each other alone.” 

He goes quiet again, and this time you do reach across the table, resting your hand over his twitching fingers, “What happened?” 

He swallows tightly and he looks away again, but his hand turns under yours to press your palms together, “One morning San asked if I wanted to spend the weekend in Namhae, he missed his family and thought it would be nice if we all spent some time together.” 

“Oh,” You breathe, the pieces of their story falling together in front of you so easily. 

“I couldn’t do it,” He confesses, “and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I told him that I loved him, but that our friendship was what mattered to me, and that we were kidding ourselves by not trying to find omegas of our own.” 

Your cringe, “Seonghwa,” 

“I know,” He breathes, his head dropping, “it was cruel.” 

“Your relationship,” You squeeze his hand, “what you had with San wasn’t wrong, you know that right? It’s perfectly,” 

His head snaps up, “I know it’s not wrong.” 

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room at the expression in his eyes, fierce determination as he snaps to defend himself. You stay silent. 

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, pulling his hand back, “I do know that, that’s not why I broke it off.” 

“Then,” 

“My family is very traditional,” Seonghwa says, “they believe that alphas and omegas are made as a perfect match. They believe that every alpha has a destined omega and that a bond, a claim, should be between one alpha and one omega only.” 

“That’s so,” You trail off, unable to really form the words. Traditional is a kind, sanitized word for what it is. You would have said bigoted, downright prejudicial, and your chest aches at the idea that he grew up cocooned in that kind of indoctrination. 

“Hypocritical,” His cheek twitches, “considering my parents loathe each other.” 

You smile at that, “I’m sorry,” 

He shrugs, his cool exterior slotting back into place, “It’s a shame that we’re not a scent match, honestly. My parents would be so proud of me if I brought you home,” 

You take his hand again, brushing smoothly past his comment, “Are they so traditional they don’t believe in packs either?” 

“That’s worse,” He crinkles his nose, “to them.” 

Packs have always been a little controversial, especially with the rise in beta designations and the decreasing likelihood that omegas will find a true honest-to-god scent match, but it’s not unheard of. Polyamory and packs have started to crop back up in popular media, and it’s becoming more and more common to see an omega paired with two or more alphas despite the traditionalist view that it’s a return to baser, more primal instincts. You were raised knowing packs were an option, but as you listen to Seonghwa and understand his past, you know everything for him was the opposite. 

“I really am sorry,” You murmur, “it must have been difficult to grow up surrounded by that mindset.” 

He nods, and then takes a long sip of his untouched coffee. 

The threads are coming together more clearly, but there’s still a question lingering in your mind and the words leave you without any real consideration, “If you don’t believe that, then why break it off with San?” 

He grimaces, “My parents are fairly wealthy,” 

Your stomach turns icy. 

“And you know the money in dance isn’t exactly overwhelming,” He explains, “they’ve always offered their financial support to me, but it’s incredibly conditional.” 

“Hwa,” You breathe. 

“San thought I chose the money over him,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, separating your hands again and resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “I tried to explain the situation to him, I tried to apologize for what I said and ask him for more time… time to figure everything out and to be able to be financially independent from them, but all he heard was that I wasn’t willing to lose the money.” 

You shake your head, but he keeps going. 

“You know how he is, he’s more headstrong than anyone I’ve ever met. Once he has an idea, there’s no telling him differently.” Seonghwa explains. 

“But it’s not true,” You’re suddenly so frustrated with Choi San you could wring his neck. 

“It is what it is, y/n,” 

“But,” You trail off, deflated, “aren’t you still seeing each other?” 

“No,” He says firmly, “only for Wooyoung’s heats.” 

“And that’s what? Working out fine?” Your eyebrows dart up. 

“For now,” He sighs, “and I’m under no big illusion that he’s going to forgive me and we’re going to go riding off into the sunset. He told me he wanted to be friends and he wanted us to continue being there for Wooyoung and we just let it go back to the way it was, and honestly,” his voice softens, “I’ll take some of him, even if I can never have all of him.” 

“Oh, Hwa,” 

His eyes are a little watery, but it clears quickly and he clears his throat, “Anyways, that’s it. That’s the tragic little story.” 

“That’s just not fair,” You shake your head, “you should be together,” 

He shakes his head, “Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk losing what I do have.” 

“If San understood,” You start. 

“Listen,” He cuts you off, “I know it seems like there should be this big movie scene, where we both admit we hurt each other and put it all behind us, and build a little pack together and have lots and lots of babies, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve made peace with that.” 

You can see plainly that he hasn’t, but in the same way he doesn’t push you on your relationship with Yunho and Mingi, you take a calculated step back from pressing down on this particular nerve. 

“Okay,” You say, “well then thank you for telling me, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.” 

“Thank you,” The air leaves him in a relieved rush. 

“And Woo doesn’t know?” You’re hard pressed to believe that. 

He shrugs lightly, “He knows something, we’ve spent enough heats together for him to see what’s there, but it’s not something we discuss.” 

“Got it,” You murmur. 

“And you?” He turns the conversation back with ease, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” 

You nod, “I’m just going to leave it for a while. I’ll apologize when they come back and the air is cleared a little,” 

“Apologize?”

“They’re not the only ones who’ve messed things up,” You tell him honestly, “and if I could take back what I said, I would.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa smiles softly. 

“Besides,” You lean back in your chair, “you’ll all be gone tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll talk to you and Woo and San, but you’ll be busy and in a completely different timezone. It’ll be for the best,” 

“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for them,” Seonghwa adds. 

“I hope so,” You murmur. 

“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t said anything to me,” He points out, “but it’s been the same as always,” 

“Really?” 

He nods, smiling a little,  “I thought for a second Mingi was being a little cold, but he just had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me,” 

You laugh sharply, “Well,” you shrug, “I really gave it to them. Maybe they realized being jealous isn’t a good look, especially if we’re ever going to get the chance to be friends or try this again with a clean slate.” 

Seonghwa chews at the inside of his lip for a moment and then sighs, “y/n, do you want to know what I really think?” 

You dip your head, gesturing for him to continue. 

“I think they’re idiots, and I think they acted like assholes and you deserve an apology for it,” You can sense that there’s something more and he continues, “but I’ve made those mistakes. I’ve pushed away someone I care about, I’ve said the wrong things, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to patch it back together.” 

Your stomach twists. 

“I’m not telling you what to do,” He says, “but I’ve known Yunho and Mingi for a long time. I see the way they look at you, the way they talk about you. There’s more than just an attraction there, there’s something real for all of you.” 

“That’s the part that’s terrifying,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, “and you know, maybe don’t take advice from me, the guy whose love life is beyond a mess, but I also don’t want you to regret anything here.” 

You reach for his hand again and take it without hesitation. 

“I just need to think it through,” You say softly, “and then be brave,” 

Seonghwa nods. You think that maybe if you can be brave, he can too, but you both let that thought lie in the space between you untouched. You don’t need to press him, not after everything he just shared with you and how much more you’re sure is there under the surface, but the thought is still understood by you both just the same. 

“I know you’ll do what’s best for you,” Seonghwa adds after a moment, “but until then,” 

“Until then let’s not think about it anymore,” You finish his words for him. 

He takes another deep breath, and you can see the way telling his secret has lifted something away from his shoulders. He takes another long sip of his coffee and then finally he says, “Do you have anything else you’re doing today?” 

You shake your head. 

“Want to wander around and help me buy unnecessary travel accessories?” He grins. 

“Seonghwa,” You squeeze his hand, “I would love nothing more,” 

“Great,” He runs a hand through his hair, “then let’s go back to Hongdae, I don’t know any of the stores over here.”

“You owe me a train ticket,” You nudge him as you start to gather up your things. 

“I bought you a coffee,” He points out, standing with you. 

“You always buy my coffee,” 

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes but you can see that it’s playful, “I’ll buy you a little thank you present for coming all the way out here,” 

“That’s more like it,” You tease, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “now let’s go home,” 

Despite your long goodbye afternoon with Seonghwa, it’s harder to really say goodbye to them all on the day than you thought it would be. 

When the last practice before their flight is over, everyone dressed in their coats and hats and ready to go for the night, all of the BB Trippin crew lingers in the front entrance hall. Well wishes, talks of food to try, jet lag tips, the weather. You try to ignore the full suitcases by the door. 

It isn’t until the very last moment that the real feeling of it starts to sink in. 

Wooyoung’s arms are banded tightly around you when the realization of just how long three months is barrels over you in full force. You take a hitched little breath hiding in his shoulder and get your emotions in check, but it’s starting to become readily apparent now. You’re going to miss them, not just your friends, but them too. 

There’s a part of you that fantasizes about throwing up your hands and confessing all your conflicting feelings, chasing them down in the airport like an old movie and laying it all on the line, but you’re not going to actually do that. It’s not fair to anyone if you do something like that. You laid out boundaries for the past few weeks, they more than respected them, and you have no doubt they’ll stay silent over the next few months just like you requested. 

“I’m not going to war,” Wooyoung laughs, squeezing you back once as he tries to extricate himself from your arms, “it’s just tour,” 

“No, I know, I know,” You clear your throat softly, “I’m going to miss you though,” 

“Me too,” He smiles, running a hand through his hair as he steps back.

When you step back from him, Mingi and Yunho are closer than they were a few moments ago and they’re keeping their eyes elsewhere but you can’t let them go without a single word. You can’t. If anything happens to them you’d regret it so deeply, and your hand shoots out to brush along Mingi’s arm. 

His eyes flash with recognition for a second, but he remains cool and calm when he turns to you and you watch Yunho follow suit.

“Have safe flight,” You manage, your chest tight at the idea that this is really it. 

“You too,” Mingi says and then he sighs as he realizes his mistake, “not flight, obviously,” 

“Right,” You smile, his awkwardness breaking the tension between you so easily. 

“Be safe here,” Yunho offers, correcting the sentiment, “and good luck with all the debut preparation, I know it’ll go smoothly with you and Dahan handling things,” 

Your chest warms, “Thank you, Yunho,” 

He nods and then takes a step back, and suddenly there’s nothing more to say. 

“Well, we should go,” Yunho clears his throat, “goodbye, y/n,” 

“Bye,” You manage. 

“Bye, y/n,” Mingi nods, turning to take the handle of his suitcase from Yunho. 

They start towards the door, and you offer a final goodbye, and then a hand in the middle of your back draws your eyes to the side at Seonghwa. 

“Safe flight,” Seonghwa murmurs the tease low into your ear as he gives you a fast hug. 

“Shut up,” You shove him as subtly as you can. 

He smiles, a little mischievously, “I’ll text you when we land.” 

“Good,” You nod, “get some sleep on the plane,” 

He salutes as he steps back and drops an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, “Yes, ma’am,” 

You roll your eyes more obviously this time, but before they continue their teasing, Wooyoung tugs his friends closer to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m exhausted and our cab’s outside,” 

“Bye, y/n,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder as Wooyoung shoves him out the door, and you can hear San laughing from just outside, Yunho’s voice echoing beside it. 

Movement from the door draws your eye, and Mingi hitches his duffle bag up over his shoulder. His lips quirk up in the smallest smile, and he waves, just a little. 

You wave back with a nod, and then he’s gone. 

The studio moves forward just the same. Quieter, but the same. 

You and Dahan spend your time focused on the debut, and despite how much you think of them for just a flicker before you drop off into sleep every night, your body is so tired from work that your mind never dwells for too long. 

Weeks pass around you in a busy blur

Three months doesn’t seem so long as it whips by around you, not unless you really let yourself slow down and think about it. You still get updates from your friends as they hop from city to city, photos online of New World where you can see your best friends in the back, and then their Instagram updates of every new strange dish they try. 

Yunho and Mingi stay quiet, just like you needed, until one night they don’t. 

The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox was sent three days ago. You rarely check your inbox, and there’s a real chance you would have missed this message entirely, but you just happened to be looking for an authentication code at the exact right time and there’s no mistaking what this email is when you stumble across it. There’s no subject, but there is a little preview pane of the first line and your breath catches in your throat when you see it. 

y/n - You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. 

Your heart tightens in your chest and you double check the email address. You don’t have it saved, but just know it’s Mingi. You need a drink for this. You step away from your desk and run your hands through your hair, heart beating fast, and you try to decide what to do as you leave your room for a breath and a glass of anything. 

You pour some wine with shaky hands, the quiet of your apartment feeling so loud around you. If you open it, you won’t be able to live in an ignorant little bubble anymore. You could delete it, really put your foot down about no contact and keep moving on. You could do that. 

You’re back at your desk seconds later with your cursor hovering over the email. 

He’s not wrong. You never said don’t email. 

With a gulp of wine for courage, you press down and brace yourself. 

y/n -

You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. I’m not sending this so you’ll reply, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but honestly I’m not always the best at saying something in the moment. Please forgive this. 

I’ve thought a lot about us the past few weeks and I wanted you to know that I understand why you’re confused. It was hard to see it before. Something made me insane when you said you slept with Seonghwa, and I can see how all that alpha shit would make sense, but that wasn’t it. Not all of it anyways. I’ve spent so much time thinking it through and what really upset me wasn’t that you were with somebody else or even that it was him. I was so fucking mad at myself for letting us go back to being friends. Especially now that I know you wanted us too and we wrecked it. I feel like a fucking coward, and I swear to god I’ve never been a coward before. You make me feel things and do things that make no sense. It’s hard to make sense of anything when we’re together except that I like being with you.  

These things are so much easier to say when you’re not here. Yunho’s better at this kind of thing, and you’re so good at it sometimes I can’t keep up. 

I want to say that I’m sorry for all of it. I really didn’t do any of it right. You didn’t choose us that night but you did trust us, you trusted me and I’ve done nothing but hurt you since that weekend ended. I thought you wanted to go back to being friends, but when I saw you at the studio the day after I couldn’t do it. I thought if I talked to you I would just cross too many lines, I didn’t realize how much more I wanted from you until you left. But I thought about how much it would hurt you if I pushed it too far at work, and then I thought about how much it would hurt Yunho if you wanted me and not him. Or how much it would hurt me if it were the other way around. Or what would happen if you didn’t want us at all? 

I think I should tell you that Yunho and I didn’t talk for a few weeks either, not really. I think we were all just waiting for the other person to say something, but the whole time we were hurting you. I’m so sorry for that. 

I feel bad about the kiss too. I just panicked, I didn’t know what to do to make you stay. I know it wasn’t the right time, so I’m sorry for that too. 

Yunho is sorry too by the way. Someday if we ever talk about this, he’ll tell you himself, but he’s my best friend and I just have to tell you that he hates himself for how he treated you. He’d be so pissed if he knew I was sending this to you, but you have to know it.

I feel like there’s so much more I could say… things that I want the chance to explain to you, things about how I felt before we ever got together, but you said we missed our chance and I have to learn how to respect that. That’s why I don’t want you to respond to this letter. I wanted to send this because I don’t think I can do this face to face right now, I tried to be honest in the studio that night and all I did was make it worse. I hope you at least read this and can understand that, and I promise I won’t write to you again. 

I want you to know that Yunho and I talked, and we agreed on what to do. We won’t reach out, we won’t push you. When we come home, we’d like the chance to be friends again like we were. We want you to feel comfortable with us again and to trust us again. I know we missed our chance, but being friends with you is always going to be better than nothing. 

We care a lot about you. I hope through all the noise you can still feel that. 

While we’re away please be safe and be happy. 

Please don’t respond. Mingi

You read it again, and again for good measure. After the fourth time you close your laptop tight and leave it far away from you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry too, that they’re not alone in making mistakes after your heat and that you all fucked it up together. A perfect mix of insecurity and biology and doubt and fear boiling over to make sure none of you opened up to each other and just said what you wanted. But you don’t say any of that. 

You’ll tell them when they’re home. 

For once you think the right thing to do is to listen. 

You don’t respond.

a/n: reminder, i am no longer doing taglists as they became too unruly to properly maintain. please turn on post notifs, check my blog regularly, or subscribe on ao3 to get immediate updates.

#this night together fic #honeyhotteoks fics #ateez #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #ateez ff #ateez fic #yunho fic #yunho ff #mingi fic #mingi ff #ateez series

[niningtori]

see me | chapter two: closer

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu's your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 2-3k-ish

notes: as promised, here is chapter two :) i realize most people are actually waiting for chapter three of to know him is to love him, but somebody wanted to read this and i already had it written!! it also made me so happy that someone was interested in the first fic i posted on here 😭 i'm still working on chapter 3 of tkhitlm, but i will be bouncing back and forth between that and see me (which is how i like to write, don't worry). also, feedback is appreciated :,)

after an intervention with jia, you decide you're not going to forgive donghyun for his infidelity. it's tempting to just listen to him and move forward with your relationship, but you decide to put your dignity first and break up with him once and for all. for that, beomgyu is more grateful than you'll ever know.

jia suggests going on a trip with her and her boyfriend, yijun. you decisively reject her under the claim that you're unwilling to be the third wheel, but jia, ever the mastermind, placates you by inviting beomgyu. you're immediately a lot more willing than before. sure, you'd still be an extra wheel, but you could do so with company. you and beomgyu are friends — almost like family. the idea of going on a trip with them is exponentially more appealing when you know he'll be there with you. he could, in theory, bring one of the many girls who are always hanging off of him, but he's been more lowkey lately for reasons unknown to you.

the trip in question is to the closest beach. yijun has a beach house (you often joke about how she hit the jackpot with him) and you're finally ready to unwind and forget about your shitty reality. beomgyu is uncharacteristically quiet for the entire drive there, but you don't push because you assume he's not in the mood for you to. you plan on asking him about it when you get a moment alone, though.

the house has three bedrooms and you're beyond thankful. you'd feel awful if you had to share a room with jia just so you wouldn't have to room with beomgyu. you begin to imagine what would have happened if donghyun had come instead, but you shake off the thought as fast as you possibly can, though it lingers in the back of your mind.

jia and yijun are on the first level while you and beomgyu are on the second. you stare up the long staircase and sigh at the thought of having to heave your suitcase up there after such a tiring drive. then, as if reading your mind, beomgyu grabs your suitcase along with his and lugs them up the stairs without saying a word. you grin and comment on his chivalry and strength. the tips of his ears turn pink, but they are (thankfully) hidden under his long hair.

jia and yijun invite you to the beach, but you decide you're too tired and would rather stay in for the time being. you decide to take a quick nap, or at least you try to, but end up waking up so disoriented you briefly can't recall where you are and why. when you regain your senses and check your phone, you realize you've been out for at least 4 hours and the sky is already darkening. so much for an eventful first day.

with a grimace, you make your way down the stairs and to the living room, half expecting jia to make fun of you, but the only person you see is beomgyu. he's sitting there, posture relaxed while he fiddles with his phone. when you call out to him, he immediately drops it onto the floor.

"shit!" he exclaims.

"sorry, i didn't know i'd freak you out this bad," you remark sheepishly.

"it's okay," he says clearing his throat awkwardly. "how are you? did you sleep okay?"

"i woke up literally not knowing who i was. that's how good i slept." you both laugh at this and he shakes his head.

"hey, where are jia and yijun?" you ask.

"they're at the beach."

"still?"

"still."

"why didn't you go with them?" you question lightly with a tilt of your head.

"i dunno, just didn't feel like it," he lies with a cough. he just really didn't wanna leave you here alone, and if he could spend some one-on-one time with you, all the better.

"well, i'm hungry. do you want to get dinner together?" you assumed jia and yijun were probably out to eat on their own.

"do you mean going out?"

you steal a glance at the mirror hanging above the couch and catch a glimpse of your drool encrusted mouth and bedhead. going out? no fucking way.

"i was thinking of just ordering chinese food?"

"sounds good to me."

when the food arrives, you make beomgyu go out to get it, arguing that you look like shit. he says you look fine and you roll your eyes at this. you took a four hour nap and you'll be damned if it doesn't show. if it was anyone else, you may have been embarrassed about your appearance, but it's just beomgyu. he certainly doesn't care about what you look like.

in between bites of your noodles, you laugh at beomgyu's storytelling. he's not being as quiet as before and he's talking about an unspecified friend's antics with two new situationships, only to find out he's been fucking two so-called best friends simultaneously. you groan at the revelation and cover your face in secondhand embarrassment. he doesn't spare any of the finer details and you're kicking your feet at the awkwardness.

he's acting normal more or less, but you can't help but notice how hesitant he seems at certain points. you're still set on asking him what's wrong, so after you're done laughing and reacting to his enthralling story, you find a quiet moment.

"beomie?"

"what is it?" he asks, smile still present from your infectious laughter.

"are you alright?" immediately, his smile drops and is replaced by a light frown.

"yeah... why wouldn't i be?"

"it just feels like you're not 100% here, is everything okay?" leave it to you to notice the almost imperceptible changes within him. even his own sister doesn't seem to notice how off he's felt lately, but his heart soars at how much you've been evidently paying attention.

"actually, i—" the front door swings open and jia comes in with yijun in tow.

"jesus, did you just wake up?" she asks, unimpressed with your current appearance.

"more or less," you grin. beomgyu can't help but grin too, but his smile falters when he realizes the conversation you two were having was cut short and he's unsure of when you two will be alone again.

"we brought you guys some food, but i guess we didn't need to," she says, eyeing the chinese food messily sitting on the coffee table.

"really? you're the best," you answer.

beomgyu thinks he gives his thanks too, but he honestly can't tell if he said it aloud or not. he's so disappointed because he felt like you two were finally getting somewhere, but he supposes he'll have time to talk to you again during the trip. he just hopes jia and yijun take a hint and fuck off for awhile sometime soon.

they don't. actually, it feels like jia is more glued to you than usual, which could be due in part to the heartbreak you've just borne, but he still can't help but feel indignant. he wants to tell her to kick rocks, but he can't — that would raise too much suspicion. so he sits patiently, like he always has, and waits.

in the meantime, the rest of his crew is blowing up his phone — coaching him on how to make subtle moves on you. sometimes, he stands behind you and grabs things you can't reach on your own, which seems innocuous enough, but he feels so close you can feel his breath on your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. other times, he gently touches your shoulder or knee when redirecting your attention. these harmless gestures are meaningless to you, but you have no idea how much courage it takes him to make these moves. you and beomgyu have touched each other before, so it's not like you question a single thing he does. in fact, you've hugged him, even, but that was only ever once and never again. you don't like to relive that memory for reasons unrelated to him, but he remembers everything.

-

being with doyoon was everything you ever hoped love could be. it was patient, it was kind, and it was unbreakable, at least to you. you didn't want to be naive, but after a few months, you already knew you wanted to marry him.

you always felt a little lost. the reason why you even went to college in the first place was mostly because you didn't want to be home anymore, not because of some grand plan for yourself and for your life. doyoon was the exact opposite. he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it, but you loved him for that. he seemed so determined and sure of himself, everything you weren't. being with him made you want to be better. actually, being with him made you better. sure, you still weren't 100% sure what you were doing, but you knew you wanted more. whatever happened, you knew he'd be there to help you figure it out. or that's what you used to think, at least.

for three years, you tried to measure up to him. you wbeing with doyoon was everything you ever hoped love could be. it was patient, it was kind, and it was unbreakable, at least to you. you didn't want to be naive, but after a few months, you already knew you wanted to marry him.

for three years, you tried to measure up to him. you wanted to become someone worthy of him to the point where you abandoned a lot of who you used to be. good riddance to bad rubbish, you thought. no need for tears spilled over the loss of someone you didn't even like. jia would worry, though. she said you weren't acting like yourself because you were wound so tight you were no longer the easygoing person you always had been. you were hard on yourself to the point of tears at times, wanting so desperately to be someone doyoon could be proud of, but you fell short every time.

when you didn't get promotions and the internship you wanted, doyoon would always comfort you, but you knew he was disappointed. not with the fact that you failed, but just in you. he said you needed to apply yourself more, so you did. he said you had more potential than you even knew and he didn't want you to settle for anything less, but one day you couldn't help but ask "what if this is all i can do?!"

he was silent for a moment, seriously contemplating your question. you felt an unparalleled sense of dread while you waited for him to answer. why didn't he know his answer? why wasn't it "then i'll love you anyway"? why, why, why? eventually, he replied, and your dread was met with despair.

"then i can't be with you."

he said more after that. something about wanting different things, something about needing to find someone more compatible, something about needing to grow with someone instead of watching them wither. the last one in particular hurt the most. you had tried so, so hard to be someone you wanted to be around, but it was never enough. you felt like everything you did had been pointless and the person you had become was a façade. a really strong person wouldn't crumble the way you did. a really strong person wouldn't cling to his shirt and beg him to see the good in you, and you knew that, but you did it anyway.

when he inevitably left you as you sobbed alone, you wanted to see jia immediately, but she was home for the holidays. you tried calling on your drive over, but it went straight to voicemail. do not disturb, a nasty little feature. she must have been asleep. still, you drove over like a madman and paused several times when you couldn't see through your tears.

when you arrived at the choi's house, you knocked rapidly on the door — basically pounding on it. you sighed in relief when the door opened and you expected to see her face on the other side. what you didn't foresee was her little brother answering instead.

"what's wrong?!" he shouted in concern, taking in your pitiful frame. to this day you don't know why, but you took the 19-year-old beomgyu in your arms and released your sobs onto his chest. maybe you just needed somebody, anybody, to hold onto. and he let you. he pulled you in even closer and shut the door behind you. he shushed you as he gently rubbed circles into your shaking back and let you cry.

when you finally calmed down enough to talk, your voice was still choked and heavy with emotion.

"it's doyoon, h-he doesn't want me anymore. he said he can't be with me because i'm not — because i can't be good enough for him. he said we want different things, but we don't. i'm trying! can't he see that i'm trying?! can you see that i'm trying?!" you asked, not even really making sense, but beomgyu seemed to understand perfectly.

he knew jia had expressed concern for you and your relationship. she said you weren't acting like yourself anymore. she didn't mention that you would have meltdowns over not achieving what you felt you were supposed to achieve, but beomgyu overheard her consoling you more than once. he wanted to grab the phone from her and talk to you himself, but what could he say? that he saw you, the real you? that he could understand how you felt? that he always understood how you felt?

he couldn't before, but there you were, asking him the questions he always wanted you to ask. he wouldn't miss that chance.

"of course i can," he said softly. "of course i can. anyone can see it, and if they can't, they just don't know you." not like i know you.

"then — then why? why can't he understand me?" you seemed so lost he wished he could find the right words to soothe you. it felt like if he just said the right thing, maybe it would click for you that you just had the wrong person. maybe it would click for you that he could be the right person.

"because he's not the right person for you. the right person would never make you doubt yourself. the right person should make you want to be better on your own terms, not theirs. the right person would accept you just as you are even when you want to be something more."

you couldn't help but scoff at this.

"and who is the right person for me? who would want me the way i am right now?" you didn't mean to sound frustrated, but you were racking your brain trying to figure this shit out yourself too.

"i... i don't know." coward, he thought. "but i know he's out there. there's someone out there who really wants the best for you, but will never make you feel small while you're still trying to figure out what that looks like."

"i just want to know when that will be," you cried, fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. he almost took a chance to wipe your tears, but he opted to push your hair back behind your ears instead.

"it will be soon, just wait. don't cry. it's okay, don't cry."

you can't recall how long you cried after that, in spite of beomgyu's sincere pleas. after you were all cried out, you put your head on his shoulder and he tried not to visibly stiffen.

"thank you. you know, beomie, this might be weird to say, but i've always felt that you're like..." he gulped and hoped to god you didn't hear it. was this it?

"that you're like a little brother to me, honestly." he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "i really hope that's not weird, but i really do love you. you're such a good friend to me." he felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, actually.

"any time. i mean it. i love you, too." the sentiment was a little different, but he was still glad to say it.

#niningtori #see me #txt angst #txt #txt fluff #txt fic #beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu headcanons #honestly know this is gonna flop #but i do it for my readers cuz i love u

[silverynight]

How to ask a cheerleader out

<---Previous

Chapter 7

Every now and then, Uraraka glares at Katsuki when they all are together having lunch in the cafeteria; Izuku knows it's only a warning and that it'll pass as soon as she realizes his boyfriend doesn't have bad intentions.

The word boyfriend still makes him flustered; he can feel Katsuki's hand in his, and his leg pressed against him under the table. Izuku likes it; he likes to feel close to Katsuki and enjoys the way he softly stares at him.

He also enjoys the way Katsuki's friends tease him about their relationship.

"Midoriya, I'm telling you... you can ask this one whatever you want and he'll do it because he's so whipp–"

"Shut up, dunce face!"

"Kacchan, don't be mean to your friend!"

"Tch, fine!"

"See? I was right!"

Ashido leans closer to her boyfriend Kirishima and starts laughing as Izuku intertwines his fingers with Katsuki to calm him down; he can see Iida and Uraraka holding back their smiles, but she fails miserably and starts chuckling too.

Izuku knows she's beginning to welcome Katsuki into their friend group, which is a win in Izuku's mind.

He rests his head over Katsuki's shoulder and the blond can't help but look at him with a very fond expression on his face.

Despite being an anxious person, Izuku feels for the first time like this is going to work after all, and he purposely ignores the part of his brain that tells him it's too early to think something like that.

"Would you like to go to the school dance with me, Izuku?"

"Yes, Kacchan!" He beams, already excited about it; he can't wait to dance with Katsuki and have a good time with him.

Ashido and Uraraka look at each other intently, like they're having a silent conversation before they lean closer to Izuku.

"You know what that means, right?" Ashido asks with a smirk that makes Izuku nervous for a moment.

"We have to go back to the shopping center again!" Uraraka says excitedly. Izuku visibly relaxes and can't help but giggle at them.

Katsuki leans next to him and gives him a quick kiss on his curls; it makes him turn bright red in seconds.

"Bakubro is actually a besotted boyfriend. Who would've thou–"

"SHUT UP!" He cuts Kirishima off, turning almost as red as Izuku.

They all burst into laughter again while Izuku gives Katsuki a kiss on the cheek in return.

***

Turns out the girls don't want Katsuki during their shopping trip with Izuku. They say it's better if the other boy doesn't see his outfit until the day of the school dance.

"Don't worry, we'll help you pick something that will make him fall in love with you all over again!" Ashido assures him, making Izuku blush.

Uraraka chuckles and pulls her friend into a hug; at least she's not rolling her eyes at the idea of him going out with Katsuki anymore.

"Do you have an idea in mind?"

Izuku feels shy out of the sudden; his face turns slightly pink before he covers it with both hands.

"I was thinking about a dress. A light pink dress," he mumbles behind his own hands. "Do you think it'll suit me? I don't want to look ridiculous."

"You'll look beautiful," Uraraka assures him with a certainty that makes him smile.

"Of course you'll look absolutely gorgeous," Ashido says, patting Izuku's head a couple of times. "You always look good in the cheerleader's uniform after all! Now let's go! I know just the shop for you!"

Turns out the problem is not finding just one dress like that, the problem is that there are too many dresses that look so cute, Izuku is not sure which one he should pick.

However, both girls help him try a couple and give him their honest opinion on each one; in the end, Izuku falls in love with an a-line dress that has pink petals all over the lower part of it.

"You look like Persephone!" Ashido giggles, making Izuku shake his head and get flustered for the third time of the day.

"I do not!" He says; he has always loved that myth.

"You kinda do," Uraraka observes, staring at him with a serious expression. "Let's get him a floral tiara to match with the dress!"

"You're a genius, Ura!" The girl with the pink hair comments, dragging Izuku outside that shop and into a new one.

They end up exhausted, but Izuku has so much fun.

***

The hag starts freaking out about the dance, which is why Katsuki didn't want to tell her, but he knew if he didn't she wouldn't stop yelling at him for not requesting a suit from her and his Dad.

"The guy must be a saint to agree to go to the school dance with a brat like you," her voice comes out from Katsuki's phone and he's more than glad that they're doing this over a call.

"I'm really happy for you," Masaru says, because his father is actually a very nice person.

"Thanks, I guess," Katsuki mumbles, turning slightly pink just by thinking about his nerd. Damn he's really down bad. "Why do you think it's a guy?"

"Because you're gay, brat. You have never been interested in girls."

She's absolutely right so he decides he's not even going to make another comment about it.

"Does he have a name?"

Why are they so embarrassing? Katsuki groans... it's okay the quicker he tells them the faster this whole thing is over...

"Do you remember Izuku?"

"Ha!" Mitsuki laughs in the background; Katsuki knows her so well he can practically see her knowing smirk despite they're only talking over the phone. "Pay up, Masaru!"

"WHAT? YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY KNOW ABOUT THIS–"

"STOP YELLING, BRAT!"

"We're happy for you," his father assures him. "We had the feeling you were going to see him again or at least we hoped, because you were so in lo–"

"SHUT UP, JUST SEND THE FUCKING SUIT!"

"Yeah, yeah, brat... but after the school dance you're going to bring sweet Izuku here to have dinner with us, alright?"

"I suppose..." Katsuki grumbles, feeling a little bit pleased that his parents are eager to see the nerd again.

"Great, can't wait to see that cutie again! Don't ruin this, brat, I've always wanted to have a sweet and cute son-in-law."

"STOP!"

He's definitely going to wait a while before taking Izuku to his parents' house.

***

You can read Chapter 8, Chapter 9 and Chapter 10 on my Patreon already!

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#bnha #mha #bkdk #bakudeku #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixy-nine

AN: I’ve been waiting literal years to get to chapter 69, but alas. It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, I think this chap is going to be split in two. Hopefully the second half will be up by the end of the weekend. Please enjoy and lmk via comment or reblog if you’re still out there.

Aelin leaned her head back into the seat rest and let the wind whip through her long hair, her stress melting away with each mile they drove away from Orynth. In the aftermath of the Evalin debacle, she was more than ready for a full week of nothing resembling schoolwork or stress whatsoever. Nothing but relaxation, sunshine, and sex. She’d even made a special trip to the mall with Manon and Elide to purchase a few new nightgowns for the occasion. And she could not wait to show them off. And honestly, she couldn’t wait to have sex in a real bed. Her knees were totally bruised and red from the back seat of the Jeep. She sighed happily, imagining the week-full of scantily clad moments and couldn’t help but look over at Rowan, who was hyper focused as he made his way through the winding highways at the base of the Terrasen mountains.

She took a moment to truly ogle him. The flex of his forearm as he made his way meticulously around every curve. His furrowed brow and his recently cropped hair showing off the thick column of his throat. One of his teeth peeked from between his pillowy lips, gnawing on the skin there, completely oblivious to Aelin’s lusting.

“Aelin, look away from your boyfriend before he crashes the car,” Lysandra laughed from the backseat, causing Aedion to snort loudly beside her. “Could you be any hornier? Gods.”

“Yes,” Rowan smirked, still not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not completely oblivious. “You sure your parents won’t care that we’re spending the week at their beach house?” Rowan asked Lysandra for approximately hundredth time since she’d pitched the idea the week earlier.

“They’re on a luxury cruise on the coast of the Southern continent for the rest of the month,” she replied, giving her same answer no matter how many times he asked for reassurance.

The plan had come together fairly last minute, not that Aelin was complaining. She’d anticipated her spring break being a boring (but still delightful) affair of vegging out in front of the television, but this was going to be a whole lot better. Obviously, spring break was a minefield of substance use (and abuse), and Lysandra had pitched the idea of a sober week at her parents’ completely empty beachside mansion. Aelin could tell that Lysandra was feeling genuinely nervous about the prospect of being alone, and Aelin was happy to gather a group of people, who would enjoy a week of sobriety. Manon and Elide had jumped at the opportunity to be unsupervised for a week, while Dorian had pratically thrown himself across the table asking to join. (Apparently his dad had been more annoying than usual as he waited for college apps to roll in). And though Aelin had anticipated Chaol not wanting to participate, given whatever weirdness was going on with him and Dorian, he also seemed exciting to come.

What Aelin hadn’t anticipated, though, was her cousin’s presence. He was waiting at Lysandra’s, suitcase in hand, as Rowan and Aelin swung by earlier this morning. He’d waved her raised brow off with a loud, “Let’s get this sober party started!” And that was, apparently that.

She looked behind her at the pair, wondering what was actually going on between them. Despite the absence of any kind of drugs or alcohol, Aelin had a distinct feeling this week was going to be a wild one.

. . .

The house was… incredible. She’d seen pictures of it before, but Lysandra’s family used it primarily as an event space, renting it out during the summer months. It was still slightly too chilly to utilize the beach, so it sat, dark and empty. But, just stepping into the brightly lit foyer, Aelin felt lighter than air.

“You and Rowan are in the master on the fourth floor,” Lysandra said, pointing to the staircase.

“Really?”

“Aedion requested that you both be out of earshot from him,” she said with a teasing smile.

“And where is my dear cousin going to be sleeping?” Aelin asked, curiosity peaking.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, and Aelin didn’t fail to notice that wasn’t an answer.

“Manon and Elide are stopping for takeout, so text them with your order ASAP,” she said instead.

Aelin was going to push further, but Rowan came sweeping in beside her, their suitcases in hand, and starting running up the stairs.

“Race ya!”

“That’s cheating!”

Aelin tripped over her own sneakers trying to get ahead of him, but the man was built like a tree trunk, and no matter how many times she tried to snake around him, he blocked her again and again.

Finally, as they rounded the corner to master suite, Aelin was able to pull ahead. And the sight that awaited her was even better than she could have imagined.

Squealing, she took off in a run before falling back, full body flopping and bouncing onto the

king-sized bed, which took up the center of the room. She sighed happily as she stared up at the billowy canopy above her, the smell of beachside breeze surrounding her as Rowan cracked open their giant bay window. Behind a set of gauzy curtains was a private balcony, overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond it, and Aelin felt like royalty with how good everything felt. She could get used to this.

With a wide smile, Rowan came and flopped next to her, both of them bouncing in tandem off the mattress and crashing down into each other in a breathless pile of limbs.

“Hi,” Rowan said, curling his body towards hers, his green eyes dark as his hand ran its way under the hem of her shirt. She inched forward in return, leaning into the pads of his fingers as they circled the skin of her back.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears. Although, that could be due to the fact that they’d just sprinted up four flights of stairs.

“Dinner! Text.” Lys shouted up the stairs, breaking the spell between them momentarily. She jotted off a quick text, then resumed her position staring at Rowan. Gods, he was so beautiful. And she was so lucky to have him. His fingers never ceased their movement, delicately running up and down the curve of her side, as his face relaxed into a contended smile. She briefly had the urge to pull her journal from her backpack and record this moment, this prolonged moment of touching between them, as she had before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The shadow of a past that she barely knew anymore.

She’d brought the journal in hopes that she’d be able to write out any of her feelings regarding her murky future, but with Rowan’s face merely inches away, it all seemed so clear. She’d only ever need him. Unable to resist the pull between them for a second longer, she tugged the collar of his shirt toward her and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

He mumbled something against her mouth, but she was too blissed out to really hear his words.

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs,” he laughed, as she trailed kisses down his throat. “Help Lys unpack the groceries and games and stuff?”

“Mmm, no,” Aelin said, rolling her boyfriend to his back and lifting up his shirt to scatter soft kisses against his abs. She loved the way they clenched beneath her touch. It made her feel so powerful. Rowan snorted loudly, but it morphed quickly into a groan as she fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

“Ace,” he attempted to admonish her. “Friends. Downstairs.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

He flopped back onto the fluffy white comforter with a muffled groan as Aelin tugged on his pants. And as she started to move over him, she errantly thought she should have texted her friends that they would be late to dinner and not to wait for them.

. . .

They were indeed late for dinner. But no one minded. The table was filled with chatter between their friends, who barely spared the freshly showered pair a glance as they walked in. They table was mid-card game already, and Aelin laughed loudly as she figured out they were playing an extremely intense game of Go Fish between bites of their seafood feast.

“Go. Fish,” Aedion said confidently, causing Dorian’s blue eyes to narrow with irritation.

“If you have a three you have to give it to me,” Dorian insisted, causing Aedion to smirk back.

“I know how to play the game, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

A matching smirk appeared on Dorian’s face, and the sudden moment of silence was so charged that Aelin felt herself warm slightly. Looking around the table, she knew she was not the only one who noticed. The tension coming from both Lysandra and Chaol’s tight smiles was palpable.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development.

“Dorian, do you have any fives?” Manon cut in, apparently observing the same situation that Aelin had.

The spark died quickly as the game progressed, but it didn’t escape Aelin’s attention that Chaol’s eyes flicked between Aedion and Dorian a few dozen times. He’d insisted they were fine and that the moment they spent as more than friends was just a blip in the past, but given his furrowed brow and tipped frown, Aelin had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. Poor Chaol.

The rest of the night followed without incident — they received a full house tour from Lysandra, who showed them how to use the highly complicated smart house settings, which included internet, lights, the thermostat and auto-timed blackout shades. She also led them out to the deck and taught them how to turn on the hot tub, as well as the outdoor lights and music system. After she taught them how to turn on the projector in the theater room, and where everything had been put away in the kitchen, they decided they deserved an evening of rest. They all gathered on the family room the couch to eat copious amounts of candy and popcorn and watch a horror comedy that Aedion had picked. Aelin was glad she and Rowan had gotten in some alone time earlier, because somewhere toward the middle of the movie, she could feel her eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“You okay?” she could hear Rowan ask somewhere just out of reach of the depths of her exhaustion.

She mumbled a soft, “I’m asleep,” as she flopped harder onto his chest, and she could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek as he stroked her hair, and that was all she remembered.

She didn’t wake until hours later when the first hints of buttery sunlight peaked through the curtains of their master suite. Based on Rowan’s soft and steady breath beside her, she knew it must be really early, and a quick glance at the clock told her it wasn’t even six yet. Despite not being a morning person at all, she felt invigorated and inspired. She crept quietly out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and grabbing her journal before heading downstairs.

The delicious aroma of coffee awaited her downstairs, a full pot already brewed from the fancy machine Lysandra had taught them how to use last night in their detailed house tour. She looked around to see who else was awake, but the kitchen was completely empty. Instead of doing further inspection, she poured a hefty amount of hazelnut creamer into her coffee and grabbed a blanket from the stack on the end of the couch to wrap around her shoulders before making her way onto the deck.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when she settled in at the outdoor table with her coffee. Awash in the beauty of the blue waves softly lapping at the shore of the beach, contrasting with the deep purple and pink sky first tinged with the first rays of the firey red-orange sun, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Her worn journal was battered and bruised, and she regretted that it had been ignored in the recent months, in favor of her color-coded planner. It was her dad who’d reminded her of its existence, wondering if she wouldn’t feel better if she put pen to paper about how she was feeling. And though she wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out, she placed her pen against a fresh page and took off. As the words formed in her messy sloping print, she found herself writing about the moment itself. She wanted to remember this sky, the way the sunlight spilled over the darkness like a molten lava, lighting up the horizon like a fire, starting deep glowing red, then turning a burning orange, until it became unmistakably golden.

She didn’t know how long she’d been writing for when the seats next to her started to fill up with her friends, but the sun was firmly fixed in the sky, daylight pouring over the wide expanse of sand and glistening atop the ocean’s placid undulations. She shut her journal and reached for her coffee mug, which had been freshly filled and was steaming again. Her glance drifted next to her where Rowan lifted his own mug, which read “World’s Best Granddad” in a scrawling script, in an air cheers, and they both smiled as they took a sip in unison.  

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Miss Lys?” Aedion asked, clapping his hand loudly on her shoulder.

Lys glanced up at him with a beaming smile. “Glad you asked.”

Lysandra had put in more prep than Aelin had even anticipated, making sure that they had multiple activity options for each day they spend there. Aelin had known Lysandra was nervous about this week, but she hadn’t realized exactly how nervous until she saw Lys’s list for potential activities and which weather they’d be best for.

Since the weather was abnormally warm for this time of year, they decided to take advantage of the sunshine and explore the local town. It was a short walk from the house, and though it was pretty much just two streets of “downtown,” it was fun to look into each of the darkened windows, seeing where tourists would line up to indulge in artisan fudge and hand crafted beach bags, decadent scoops of ice cream, and kitschy beachwear as soon as summer came around.  

“Sup, buttmunch?” Aedion swung a large arm around Aelin’s shoulders as they ambled down the main street.

Aelin’s instinct was to shrink out of her cousin’s arms and tell him to fuck off, but he had the distinct privilege of catching her in a moment where she was trying to relish the moment. She remembered how hard it sucked when he went away to college, how far away he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning into his grasp. It only caused him confusion.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded. But Aedion knew her too well.

“I heard about your mom.”

Well, that caught Aelin’s attention.

“What? How?”

He nodded toward Lysandra. “Don’t be mad if she wasn’t supposed to tell. She was just… worried. If anyone knows about parental issues…”

Aelin shrugged. “I’m okay.” But Aedion wasn’t satisfied with that answer and proceeded to pinch her side. “OW!”

She must have reacted too exuberantly because before she could say anything, Rowan was there, hovering and worrying and asking Aedion what was going on.

“I’m fine, buzzard,” she laughed, shooing him away.

“Sorry I upset your bodyguard,” Aedion chuckled. And it felt so natural to just be with him that she almost cried. She thought about the way their relationship had ebbed and flowed in the last two years, and she regretted… a lot. She loved Aedion. And cutting him out was one of the worst things she’d done in a long list of mistakes.

“He’s fine. And so am I,” Aelin reassured her cousin, who was still peering at her with the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. Damn, it was so hard to lie to him. “Or, I will be.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just looking forward to a week with no drama.”

At that, Aedion snorted loudly.

“I’m sorry, you gathered a group of stressed out couples and almost couples and former couples and expected them not to bring you drama?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “And which one are you?”

“I don’t believe in labels,” he replied, puffing out his chest. But his posturing was short-lived as he lowered his voice. “Dorian is… nice.”

“I KNEW IT!” Aelin hissed.

“Shush,” he chastised her, pulling her closer.

“But what about Lys?” she asked.

And she saw the way Aedion’s eyes glazed over with concern as he sought out the brunette in front of them. “She’s an incredible human, and I like her a lot.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.” He sighed as he looked down at Aelin again. “She’s strong as hell, and she’d straight up die for anyone she cares about. It reminds me a lot of someone else I know…” He chuckled. “But, she’s not allowed to date for at least another six months, according to her sobriety rules. And she said she’ll probably follow it for longer, given how fucked up her last relationship was. And, she’s straight up told me that. And I have to respect that. So, yeah, I’m looking elsewhere.” He paused, his eyes sliding to Dorian’s swaying hips a few feet in front of them. “And elsewhere is cute.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and elsewhere has a former-almost relationship sleeping next door to him.”

“I know,” Aedion laughed. “Which is why I think you should be prepared for drama,” he said, tickling her side. “I know you can’t possssibly understand because you’re in the most incredible amazing relationship ever, but…”

“You talking about my butt?” Dorian quipped, winking over his shoulder, and Aedion’s cheeks had the audacity to turn pink.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before, and she couldn’t believe the shade of scarlet he turned at Dorian’s attention. Which… was worrisome, given Chaol and Lysandra’s sudden tension in their posture. Drama. Oh dear. Perhaps Aedion was right. Aelin considered herself warned.

. . .

When they got back to the house, everyone was ordered to leave the kitchen. Manon and Chaol (of all people!) had decided to cook everyone a gourmet dinner. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chaol had pursued an interest in the culinary arts and he was enamored by the technology available to him in Lysandra’s parents’ kitchen. And apparently Manon was an excellent chef, according to Elide, who had enjoyed many meals via her girlfriends’ talents. As they had walked by a local grocery, they’d picked up all the ingredients they needed for the most delicious dinner ever. They spent their time walking through the aisles, deciding what to prepare and landed on a multi-course meal that would knock everyone’s socks off. Apparently last night’s takeout was… fine, but they wanted something more elevated. Just from overhearing their planning, Aelin had deduced dinner would consist of several different salads, seared scallops, a complicated steak dish, and a dessert that Aelin would be dreaming about for hours. She thought perhaps they had watched too much Top Chef, but who was she to complain about receiving the fruits of their labor?

Since the group had hours to kill and the sun was starting to sink into the horizon and leave the house shrouded in dark shadow, Lys suggested that they start up the hot tub while Manon and Chaol manned the kitchen. Elide and Chaol had offered themselves up as sous chefs to help with any prep, but they were rejected, leaving them to join the hot tub crew. Aelin felt absolutely great about that. And as soon as she put on her bikini, so did Rowan. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he moaned, and Aelin couldn’t resist smiling widely as she remembered the multiple nightgowns she’d brought and hadn’t taken out yet. Rowan would be dying. And they’d be putting this master bed with its fluffy mattress and even fluffier comforter to good use. She’d specifically bought a few sexy nightgowns in colors she knew he would love – gold, green, and red. But she was careful to push them to the bottom of the suitcase and out of Rowan’s view. After arranging the clothes just so, so everything was out of sight, she placed her her journal on top to and pulled her bathing suit out.

He was already clad in low-slung shorts, which highlighted his abs in an obscene way, and she contemplated saying fuck it to the hot tub and just pulling him into bed right in that very moment, but she also knew that she should be social and that this was not just a sexcation for her and her boyfriend. When she looked at the wide expanse of his chest and thick roped arms that was hard to remember. So she pulled him out of the room quickly, not wanting to tempt herself more than she needed.

In the hot tub, Lys and Aedion were already stewing in the steamy water, seltzers in hand as they tried to control their temperature. Aelin stepped in and let the lapping bubbles overtake her, sliding onto a seat that was right next to a pulsing jet. She couldn’t help but moan, causing all the eyes in the hot tub to slide to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, causing a round of laughter to take off.

Dorian and Elide slinked in shortly after, and even though Aelin was leaning hard into Rowan’s side, she kept an eye on Aedion and Dorian and Lys, wondering exactly what was going on between all of them at every moment. Rowan definitely noticed at one point, elbowing her side, but she ignored him.

“Ugh, I’m overheated,” Rowan complained about thirty minutes into their soak.

“Really? I’m perfect,” Aelin replied, causing everyone to laugh.

Rowan shook his head, laughing at his girlfriend. “I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’ll be back,” he assured her, leaving her with a solid kiss that left Aelin breathless.

“Y’all are as disgusting as ever,” Aedion said, causing Dorian to snort loudly.

“That’s nothing,” he added. “Wait until you see them in the minutes before they head to their not-so-secret parking lot spot to fuck.”

Aelin’s cheek’s filled with blood at his words, but she wasn’t ashamed. “Whatever,” she laughed off.

Even Elide joined in the razzing, making Aelin realize that maybe she and Rowan were more obvious than they let on. She was so busy laughing that she barely realized that Rowan hadn’t rejoined them until everyone was getting out of the tub an hour later.

As she walked through the kitchen, she sniffed in the incredible aromas and told Manon that she was looking forward to dinner, to which her friend simply replied, “You better be.”

Dripping slightly, she skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Rowan was laid out on the bed, his eyes closed, and Aelin assumed that he was simply exhausted, and walked herself straight into the shower. She showered the chlorine out of her hair and took extra time to shave her legs all the way up to her hips, making sure that she was feeling good and confident about being alone with Rowan tonight.

But when she made her way out to the bedroom, Rowan was staring at her with such vitriol that she was taken aback.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, and he simply scoffed.

“Hi.” She wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and looked at him for real. He did not look happy. His frown tugged down exaggeratedly and his brow was crinkled with stress lines.

“You okay?” she asked, even though the answer was an obvious no.

“Just wondering why you’re with me if you think I’m inconsiderate and emotionally stunted,” he said super casually, as if he hadn’t said something completely insane.

“What?”

He reached for her journal, which she hadn’t even realized was in his grasp, and held it in front of them.

“Apparently you think I’m selfish and horrible and completely unworthy of your attention, so I guess I’m not so sure of what you’re doing with me.”

Aelin was aghast.

“You read my journal?”

He scoffed, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, it was out there for anyone to see. I barely had to flip through it to see all the shit you wrote about me,” he said, annoyed as ever. But all it did was spur Aelin’s anger. How…dare he?

She snatched the journal from his hands and clutched it to her still damp chest.

“You’re not even denying it. You read my journal.”

He stuck his nose into the air, not denying a thing, and Aelin’s heart panged with a hurt so large she thought maybe she was having a heart attack.

“That wasn’t okay, Ro.”

“Obviously,” he quipped. “This is where you write how much you fucking hate me.”

She could feel herself vibrating with anger as she opened the journal in front of him. “Oh yeah? I hate you?” she sassed. “Then please tell me why I spent all of the summer between junior and senior year cataloguing every time you touched me? Because I hated you?” she seethed. “This journal is my most private thoughts and feelings,” she admitted. “And most of them are about how in love with you I am.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with every deep breath. “So you read the one page where I was frustrated that you didn’t love me too? Get over it, Rowan. You put me through hell. HELL!” she shouted. “You didn’t give me any signal that you loved me too, at all. So, sorry if I had one stupid journal entry talking about how frustrated I was with you. If you had turned the fucking page,” she said, turning the page for effect. “You would have seen how stupidly obsessed and in love I was with you, but you don’t deserve to read that either.”

She shook with her anger, unaffected by the change in her boyfriends’ expression.

“Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

She watched as Rowan gathered himself off the bed and headed out the door, and she chose to ignore the small furrow in Rowan’s brow or the clenching of his jaw, as she slammed the door shut.

How dare he. Like, really. How. Dare. He? He had no right to invade her privacy and then be mad about what he’d discovered. Not to mention, if he’d only skipped ahead a few pages in the journal he would have stumbled on a time stamped record of every time he’d touched her, making her skin light on fire with lust and wanting. I’m fact, nearly 99% of that journal was just wishing and hoping that he’d ever look her way or see her as more than a friend. It was the contents of a lovestruck puppy. But NO. He had to crack open her journal and peer inside the one, single day where she hated the wanting and the pain from wanting so bad that she had to get it out — expel the poison from inside her, knowing that none of it was really how she felt. It wasn’t true then and it certainly wasn’t true now. And he knew that! So, how dare he have the audacity to be upset about her most private painful thoughts when he was the one invading them?

She could feel tears burning the edges of her eyelids but refused to let them through. Instead, she sniffed back loudly and tilted her head to the ceiling. An old fan whirred slowly above her, letting out a soft clinking sound with each rotation. One of the blades was slightly off and kept catching the very top of the chain that dangled below. Her breathing steadied as she watched the fan do its wonky loop again and again, the clinking starting to soothe her and she inhaled and exhaled with each sound. 

What a dick.

“UGH!” Aelin pushed herself up and stalked to the door, swinging it back open.

Rowan stood exactly where the door had slammed in his face, and she watched him take a breath, presumably to say he was sorry, but Aelin didn’t care. “Don’t,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m starving, and this dinner sounds so fucking good, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I just want to talk—”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

To his credit, he nodded succinctly, not pushing for more.

“I’m so mad at you,” she continued. “What you did is not okay,” she said, breathing hard and ignoring the way his green eyes pinched at her words. “That journal is my private thoughts and feelings, and you reading it without me… I thought we had boundaries.”

His eyes looked sad as he said, “But I thought we told each other everything.”

And she took a large breath to reply. Because she understood. She really did. “We do. Now. But Ro, that journal is from years and years of our lives. It starts freshman year, and I still use it today. Do you know how many thoughts and feelings I’ve had about you since then?” she asked. She grabbed the journal. “If you turned the page, you would have seen a detailed time stamped spreadsheet of every time you touched me our sophomore year. Literally time stamped. But there were so many times that I wasn’t sure about us. You were with fucking Lyria! For months,” she shouted. “So, how dare you come and be mad at me when you read how I was feeling during that time? I didn’t know if you’d be with me ever.” She took another deep breath, ignoring Rowan’s pained face. “I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not sorry for writing my feelings down in my journal. It was the only way I was able to survive. And youi peaking into that time without acknowledging how hard you hurt me then isn’t just tone deaf, but it's stupid, Ro. Really fucking stupid.”

“I thought you wanted me to read it…” he said, trying to explain himself.

“Well, that was your mistake,” she said, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek.

Rowan apologized, but Aelin barely heard him. She’d wanted to be apart from the drama, but as she and Rowan made her way down to dinner, she realized that they were the drama. And it was about to be everyone else’s problem.

#idwtw #rowaelin #tog fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Compromise - Chapter 18

Summary: Twelve years in the future, Y/N is in the relationship that everyone dreams of. Negan is a dedicated husband, a wonderful father and she has the job of her dreams, but life still isn't exactly what she hoped it would be.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), etc.

Warnings: Swearing, massive angst, smut, dubious consent, etc.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834154/chapters/118128469

Notes:  Yes, this is a time jump story. There is a lot of angst in this chapter and there is a moment in the chapter that could be viewed as maybe a moment of dubious consent. Pre-warning. Thanks to anyone that still reads this. I'm looking to end it as soon as I can. Maybe four to five more chapters left?

If there was one thing that Y/N longed for, it was rest. The good kind of rest that had become unknown to her over the last few years. With how busy she had been, sleep had been something she had learned to live without. Unfortunately, it felt like the only time she could get that sweet, addictive relaxation where she actually felt comfortable was the last thirty minutes before her alarm went off and woke her up to start her day. It was always so hard when she heard that alarm go off. It was safe to say she had a lack of sleep, so the warmth of the comforters and the silence at the beginning of the morning was so damn addictive.

It was the start of the morning and the sunrise had started to shine through her window leaving a warmth radiating over her face while she laid in her bed. It felt nice. That was until the wet, damp heat of something dragged across the center of her face. Groaning out, she pulled her head back with a disgusted sound. Opening her eyes she saw that their golden retriever Oliver was laying on the bed beside her with his big brown eyes gazing over her.

Lifting her head, she looked to see that the door was partially open to their bedroom. When Negan got up this morning, he must have not closed the door completely allowing Oliver to sneak back into the bedroom with her after Negan let him outside. Sighing loudly, she grunted out when she felt the weight of something else jumping in over her on the bed. Putting her hands up, she tried to block her face when their other dog jumped up on the bed with Oliver to cover her with kisses.

“Cooper!” Y/N firmly spoke the other golden retriever’s name making the younger dog lower down to lay down on top of her and rest his head over the center of her chest looking up at her with expressive eyes.

Frowning, she pet both of the dogs thinking about how many times she asked Negan to stop allowing the dogs to hop in the bed with him. Multiple times in fact. Yet, it wasn’t something that Negan ever firmly put down in the rules with the dogs so they felt free in hopping in the bed all the time. It wasn’t something that she could be mad at them for since Negan really never stressed it. After a small amount of time Cooper hopped down from the bed and ran out the door leaving her in bed with Oliver.

“How’s it going old man?” she whispered, brushing her fingers over the softness of Oliver’s ears making him lower his head in closer to her so she could press a kiss over his forehead. “I can’t believe you made the trip up the stairs to wake me up.”

Oliver pulled himself in closer to her so he could have her wrap him up in her arms to give him a big hug while she took time to still lay in bed with him. Her eyes lifted to see that on the pillow where Negan slept was a rose and a note placed at the center of the pillow for her. It made her swallow down hard and close her eyes.

Reaching out, she grabbed for the letter and lazily opened it up to look at what was written inside.

Y/N,

Waking up seeing your face is still the greatest joy of my life even after twelve years being married to you. You have no idea how proud I am of you and I love you so fucking much.

Negan

Closing the note up, she heard the sound of her alarm going off and she exhaled loudly. Pulling herself up in the bed, she heard Oliver adjusting his positioning so he could watch her moving around the room. Picking up the flower from her pillow, she went over to the vase that she had in her bedroom and dropped that rose in with the rest of them. Going to her top drawer, she pulled it open and placed the note where she had the others. From the day that Negan married her until now, Negan always left her a flower and a note on the pillow every morning. Twelve years straight, he never broke the habit and made sure to do it.

Looking at her drawer, she could see that the notes were starting to pile up again and she would have to put them in with the others that she had in storage. Shaking her head, she pushed the drawer shut and looked to the ramp that Negan had made for Oliver since he was getting older and having a hard time getting up on the bed with them. It made her snort and shake her head. So much for not allowing the dogs on the bed.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Y/N muttered seeing Oliver’s ears perk up. The smell of breakfast being cooked flooded into the room and she could see Oliver lift his nose up to smell the air. “You wanna go have some breakfast together before we start the day?”

Oliver carefully pulled himself up from the bed and walked down the ramp taking his time. Following Oliver out of the bedroom, she went with him down the stairs and could hear laughing and giggling coming from the kitchen. Making her way through the home, she gazed around the big living room that they shared with their family and knew that this house should have made her happy. It was incredibly nice. It was big. It was beautiful. It was everything she dreamt of growing up. It was definitely something to be proud of and Negan did a good job keeping it clean for them.

A wince fell from her throat when she stepped on something that made her pull her foot up immediately to see that she stepped on a Lego making a slew of curse words fall from her lips, “Negan!”

“What?” two voices called out from the kitchen making her huff out and drop down to sit on the edge of the couch that was there.

“Negan Junior,” she corrected her statement knowing that there were a lot of times she hated agreeing to let Negan name his son after him. It left for moments of confusion like this where both of them would respond and it often frustrated her.

“Yeah mom?” their son popped his head out from where he was in the kitchen, his hazel eyes staring out at her from where he was. His big dimples sank in and his eyes grew wide when he saw her holding onto her foot. It was the same exact look she saw in Negan plenty of times and it blew her away with how much her son actually looked like Negan but younger.

“You’re eleven Negan, don’t you think that you should be picking these up when you’re done?” Y/N asked of her son making his head tip to the side and he stepped forward into the room with her. “These things hurt.”

“I could tell by the swearing,” Negan Junior admitted, his young features gazing over her when he started picking up the random Legos that were on the floor. “These were actually Isabella. We were playing this morning and when I went to go help dad with breakfast, she was the one that was supposed to pick them up.”

“Hey!” their daughter called out from the kitchen making Negan Junior smirk when he put everything away.

“Which hey mom, I told you that you could call me NJ. It’s easier that way, if you want,” her son suggested making her sigh when he stood before her and held his hand out to her to help her up from the couch. “That nickname works for me. It makes me sound cool. Nicknames on dad would just sound weird.”

“I can think of a few,” Y/N commented feeling NJ’s fingers curling around hers as he led her toward the kitchen. Once they reached the kitchen, she heard laughter from inside seeing that Negan was seated at the table feeding their youngest daughter Avery breakfast. A raspberry sound fell from Avery’s lips when Negan tried to feed her some fruit.

“I don’t think she likes it daddy,” Isabella commented, her amused sounds flooding the air when she watched the disgusted face press in over her little sister’s face with Negan attempting to feed her. “She just doesn’t like blueberries like we do.”

“It’s a texture thing honey. You didn’t like it either when you were her age,” Negan looked back over his shoulder to see that Y/N was standing at the entrance of their kitchen with NJ. Giving a tired smile, Negan’s dimples sank in and she could see that he already had some blueberry stains on the white tank top that he was wearing from him feeding their two-year-old going awry. Negan’s graying hair was messy showing that he had likely just gotten up and went straight to work in the morning getting their children ready for the day. NJ was pretty good at getting ready for the day with him being almost twelve, but Isabella who was eight and Avery who was two still needed that constant attention from them. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Ew,” Avery muttered with a loud swallow making Negan laugh, his nose wrinkling in amusement when he turned back to look at Avery. After being dramatic likely for the attention that she was getting from the giggles that Negan, NJ and Isabella were giving, Avery looked to Y/N with her big hazel eyes and smiled. “Hi mommy.”

“He baby,” Y/N watched NJ run back to his spot at the table to go back to his breakfast. Y/N’s spot was already set at the table and she headed over there after NJ got settled. While Negan fed Avery, Isabella helped to feed Negan hearing them laughing and giggling together while the three of them interacted. Poking at her breakfast, Y/N felt her throat tightening and gazed over her family. While she was aware of the fact that she was lucky, sometimes her brain often got to thinking. She should have been happy because all three of her children were healthy. They were all good kids, they were raised right and she was proud of them. Yet, having three children was something she would have never imagined growing up. One was scary enough for her when she ended up being pregnant with Negan Junior. Now three kids later, sometimes she found herself overwhelmed. Avery was an accident. Something that wasn’t planned. Heaven knows how she came at an awful time. It was a time in Y/N’s career where she shouldn’t have been taking off work because she had just become a partner at the firm and it felt inappropriate having to leave because she had accidentally gotten herself pregnant. In the eyes of society, she had the perfect life. A beautiful house, a doting husband who was incredibly loyal and a good father. She had a successful career and the life that most people hoped for. So maybe she was a bad person, but sometimes she thought about the life she wanted before she got with Negan. Back then she dreamt of having her career, maybe settling down now and having a kid or two. Not three with two stepchildren. Five children in her life was a lot. Of course Sam was twenty-four now and Jane’s son Noah was ten. So she only really had to worry about putting a majority of her effort into four of them. Sam was off living her own life right now and while Y/N loved her family, sometimes she longed for that life that she wanted growing up. It was a constant reminder her father still put in her head when she saw him in passing. Her mother was very supportive of her life, but her father never grew out of it and sometimes, she understood why.

“You okay?” Negan called out from across the table, chewing at the mouthful of food that Isabella had just given him pulling Y/N from her own thoughts that she was lost in. With a nod, she looked down at her plate and started to finally eat. Negan nodded slowly before getting a bite together for Avery who shook her head when he lifted it up for her to eat. “Come on baby.”

“Daddy, dance,” Avery clapped her hands together making Negan shake his head and smile when he lowered the forkful of food he had for her. “You dance, I eat.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to be a lawyer like your mama when you get older,” Negan wiped his hand off on the napkin that was before him. Getting up from the table, Negan called out for Alexa to play a song and when something came on Negan started wiggling his hips to the music being over dramatic in the way that he moved making all the kids laugh while they watched him. It was something Negan often did to make the kids laugh. Dance like a fool and they loved it. Avery’s giggles filled the kitchen while she clapped her small hands together. Reaching out for Isabella, Negan pulled her up from her seat and brought her with him to dance with her making her laugh with Negan spinning her around the kitchen. Soon Negan reached for NJ to include him in on the dancing and she watched from where she was seated enjoying that her kids found happiness in their father’s antics, but at the same time sometimes she just wished they could have a normal breakfast for once. It was always some form of entertainment that Negan would put on for them. Pointing out at Y/N, Negan wiggled his finger at her and she immediately shook her head. “Come on.”

“No,” she responded letting out a huff when Negan moved across the kitchen to grab a hold of her hand to pull her up from the chair and toward his chest. She was very stiff but allowed him to spin her and dip her knowing that the kids enjoyed it. Toward the end of the song, Negan picked up Avery to include her, holding onto her so that she was with Y/N and him while they danced together. As the song ended, Y/N lowered down to press a kiss over Avery’s head. “Time to eat baby.”

“Okay,” Avery smiled bright, her chubby cheeks drawing attention to her beautiful smile as Negan got her settled back down in her chair.

Watching from her seat, Y/N saw the way that Negan and the kids talked about their day together. There was no questioning that Negan was their primary caregiver and she knew that, but work made it hard for her to be in that position.

“And all of your homework is done?” Negan confirmed with their son seeing him eagerly nod his head. “Promise?”

“Of course, I did it after dinner yesterday. Remember?” NJ pointed out making Negan nod his head slowly. “That’s how we always do it. Homework after dinner and as soon as that’s done, we can do whatever we want.”

“Yes sir,” Negan winked making NJ smirk. “Are you excited about the game tonight?”

“Very!” NJ boasted holding his fork in his hand while he spoke, his hazel eyes full of excitement. “It’s the semifinals. If we win, we go to the finals. Which would be really cool. Maybe I’ll be good enough like you were when you were younger dad and I can be a ball player.”

“With how good you are, I think you’re capable of anything,” Negan gave his son a wink making Y/N swallow down hard hearing that her son wanted to be a professional baseball player.

“You want to make sure that you have a fallback plan kiddo,” she spoke up making NJ look back at her with a confused expression. “I know you love baseball, but your dad was really good at baseball and he ended up getting injured which stopped his career at nineteen. Now look at your dad, he’s a gym teacher and a high school coach.”

“And I love my job,” Negan piped in, his thick eyebrows furrowing when he tipped his head to the side and she could tell that it looked like he may have found that to be a bit of an insult slung in his direction. “If it doesn’t work out for NJ, he will find something that does.”

“You’re a great coach dad,” NJ blurt out reaching out to grab a firm hold of Negan’s wrist to squeeze it firmly. “I would have never been able to get as good as I am without you.”

“The talent is all you little man,” Negan leaned across the table to press a quick kiss against NJ’s temple before sitting down back with Avery in attempts to get her to finish her breakfast.

“Is Jane bringing Noah tonight?” NJ questioned with a mouthful of his breakfast making Negan nod his head. “I feel bad his team didn’t do as well this year, but I was hoping we could all go out for ice cream later together.”

“Of course we can do that with the team and everyone. I think Sam is coming too,” Negan responded letting out a groan when Isabella hopped down from her seat to jump into his lap. Adjusting her in his lap, Negan made sure that he could still take care of Avery while cuddling his daughter in his arms. “I’m sure she would love to come for ice cream too.”

“Are you coming mom?” NJ looked to Y/N with his big, hopeful hazel eyes. It made her feel uncomfortable with all of the eyes on her and she felt her body tensing up. “Maybe you can get off work early and come to the game?”

“Baby, you know that I can’t do that,” Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of guilt seeing the look of disappointment in NJ’s eyes when he nodded his head and went back to poking at his breakfast. “I would love to come to a game, but this case I’m working on is very important. With me being a partner now with the company, I’m just busy a lot and…”

“Being a partner means you’re in charge, right?” NJ muttered, his young features gazing up at her making a lump grow in her throat. “Doesn’t that mean you make your own hours?”

“Buddy, it’s not like that. See your mama is like a superhero. She works really hard to represent people. All the work she does makes sure that bad guys don’t get out into the world and do bad things,” Negan tried to defend Y/N in a way that would help NJ understand why she couldn’t be there for his games. “I know your mama wants to be there more than anything, but her job is very important.”

“But you make it to every game no matter what,” NJ replied with a long sigh shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “Mom hasn’t made it to one single game.”

“That’s because daddy’s job isn’t as important as mommy’s,” Y/N blurt out making Negan swallow down hard when he stared out at her from across the table. With a sigh, Negan pressed a kiss over the side of Isabella’s face and went back to whispering things to Avery. “Your dad is your coach. He’s not going to miss your games. Plus he’s a gym teacher and coaches other teams. His schedule is nothing like mine. Your father can afford to spare the hours, I can’t.”

“It would just be nice to have you at some of our events,” Isabella spoke up from her position at the table, twisting her dark hair around her finger when she gazed over at her mother with her bright hazel eyes. It was incredible how much the kids actually took on Negan’s genetics with their eyes, coloring and dimples. “Daddy makes it to all of our events.”

“That’s because daddy has a shitty job that means nothing in the long run,” Y/N blurt out making Negan’s face drain completely of color when he stared out at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “Your father has incredible amounts of money that was given to him by your grandfather. Your daddy never has to work in his life if he wanted to. So that’s why your daddy is able to do everything that he does.”

“Y/N…” Negan breathed out, his voice raspy and quiet when he pulled her attention to him and away from the kids. “Is everything okay?”

“I just don’t understand,” NJ didn’t allow his parents the time to have that conversation that was very negative but all of the children were too young to pick up on what their mother really just said about their father. “My friends have parents that are doctors. Elaina is a doctor and she shows up to a lot of Noah’s games. Jane shows up and she travels all the time. Maybe you can make it to this one game for me mom.”

“Well I’m sorry I can’t be as good of a mother as both Elaina and Jane,” she snapped feeling a bit offended by her son’s comments comparing her to the other women that were in their lives. “When I’m on a case NJ I can’t just decide when I can and cannot put time into it. Otherwise, mommy would have never made partner in the amount of time that I did.”

“I know, I just think that at your job even if you did a few cases less than you do they would still like you. You should just…” NJ went to bicker more with his mother only for Negan to reach out and place his hand in over NJ’s wrist in order to get him to look at him. The two of them shared a look and NJ frowned, lowering his head. “Sorry mom. I know your job is more important than a stupid baseball game.”

“Hey,” Negan muttered with a frown noticing the extra added negativity that NJ put with his comment.

“No, don’t correct him on that. He’s right. My job is more important,” she stated making Negan’s eyebrows bounce up when she so blatantly said it. “Let me explain something to you Negan Junior. Your baseball games will continue until you’re eighteen and then if you’re lucky and you do get to be a baseball player into your adult years they will keep going. I don’t show up for my job and I lose it. I lose a case and a bad guy gets away with doing something bad. So yes, I will pick my job over your baseball games because in comparison they are nowhere near as important. If that hurts your feelings, I don’t know what to tell you kiddo.”

A silence filled the kitchen when NJ’s face turned red and his head lowered down to look at the table. His dimples sank in before he firmly pushed away from the table and ran out of the kitchen making it obvious by the sounds that he was making that he was crying. A disappointed sound fell from Negan’s throat when Isabella wiggled out of Negan’s arms and went to chase after her older brother.

“Was that necessary?” Negan questioned, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he stood from his seat and reached for Avery to pick her up from her seat into his arms. “He is still eleven Y/N. All you had to do was tell him that his games were important too.”

“Sorry I can’t be the almighty hero that his dad is,” Y/N leaned back in her chair and folded her arms in front of her chest. “Nothing I say is right, but everything you do is.”

“I tell the kids how important your job is Y/N and I do nothing but tell them how much you love them. How amazing you are,” Negan reminded her with a shake of his head hearing the dogs leaving the kitchen in search of the kids. “As you said, I’m no where near as important as you are. But don’t worry about it. I’ll fix this. Just finish your breakfast and get ready for work.”

“I’m not a bad guy for working Negan,” she asserted seeing the muscle flex at the corner of his jaw and Negan gave her a firm nod. “NJ thinks I’m a villain because I can’t make it to his games and his school events. I don’t have that kind of job Negan.”

“He just loves you and he wants you there Y/N,” Negan maintained squeezing Avery in closer to him when she rest her head against the center of his chest. Stroking his fingers through her dark hair, Negan shrugged his shoulders and was at a loss for words. “It’s when he no longer cares that you have to worry.”

With that Negan walked out of the kitchen leaving her alone to her breakfast. Sitting at the chair, she lowered her head into her palm and thought about what her father told her in the past about family getting in the way of success. In a way he wasn’t wrong. It did. She was surprised that she was as successful as she actually was. The only reason she managed to make it as far as she did was because Negan kept his promise. He was there to make sure she got everything she wanted in life and that meant picking up the pieces of their family when she couldn’t.

Finishing her breakfast, she picked up the rest of the dishes and gathered them at the sink before heading upstairs to get ready for work. Stopping at NJ’s bedroom door, she could see that the door was partially opened and she could see that Negan and the kids were sitting on his bed together. Giggles were filling the air while Negan tickled at his sides and the other kids joined in.

“Stop,” NJ blurt out between large gasps of air making Negan snort with the deep belly giggles that were falling deep from within him. After they stopped tickling him, NJ reached out to wrap his arms tightly around Negan’s shoulders to hug him. “Thanks dad. I love you.”

“I love you too buddy. So very much,” Negan stroked his fingers through NJ’s hair before wiggling his fingers at the others to get them in for a big group hug and Y/N felt her chest tightening. Being at work all the time definitely made it so that she wasn’t as close to the children as Negan was. There was a bond he had with the three of them that she never would and she understood that. Her job was her dream since she was younger. Everything else she had was just the extras in her life and she was doing her best to balance it, but she knew she never would be able to be a parent like Negan could.

Heading back to the bedroom she got ready for work and before she left, she got hugs from the kids and a kiss from Negan. Work was her escape. It was stressful. It was overwhelming, but it’s where she felt the most at home. It was her thing. It was the one thing that she was good at. It just came easily to her and she enjoyed it. Hours just flew by when she was working and it would be dark outside before she even realized it. Today she was one of the last people out of the office and when she finally got back home, she parked in the driveway taking time to herself. Finally grabbing her personal cell phone, she turned it on after having it off all day which allowed her to focus. The sound of her alerts filled the air so many times making her tip her head back and rest it against the seat while they continued to flood her phone. When they finally stopped, she looked down at her phone to see that they were texts from Negan.

Opening them, she saw that many of them were photos of the kids. It was something he did every day. It was his way of including her in on their lives when she couldn’t be there. The first few photos were them on their way to school. And then the rest were at the game. There was all three of the kids dressed up in the gear for NJ’s team sitting on a bench together. A group photo of all of them with Negan. NJ warming up followed by a video of what she assumed was the winning hit for the team from NJ. Reading through the texts she stopped on one.

Little man got the final run in for the team. He’s super excited and can’t wait to tell you about it. Love you so much.

Negan’s text made her sigh while she continued to scroll through the messages seeing pictures of the family at the ice cream parlor. In the photos it made her realize how long it had been since she had actually seen Sam who was there along with Jane and Elaina with Noah. They were all a big family together and Negan did his hardest to keep Y/N part of it.

Closing her phone, she shoved it back into her purse and sat in the car. A long exhale fell from her throat when she leaned forward to rest her head against the steering wheel trying to gather enough energy for her to go in. After a long day at work she wondered if she would be able to take all the excitement she knew would come from the kids after the day they had. It was already late into the evening so she was hoping the children would be tired. Even though she hated to admit it, more often than not she thought about how this wasn’t the life that she wanted. Three kids was a lot with the job that she had. She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t going out of her mind a little bit. It made her worry that maybe she was a bad person because she enjoyed the time away from the family that she had. The silence felt incredible and it was something that she didn’t often get these days.

Getting out of the car, she walked up to the house and quietly made it in through the front door. Once she made it inside, she could see that in the living room the family was stretched out on the couch together obviously watching a movie. When she made it further in, she saw the way that they were all cuddled up and asleep. NJ and Isabella were at Negan’s sides with his arms wrapped around them with Avery absolutely crashed against Negan’s chest. NJ was still in his baseball clothes and she knew that he wanted to talk to her about the game, but she didn’t want to wake him up.

It made her relaxed to know that they were all asleep which would give her some time to unwind. Setting her things down in the office, she made her way through the house and saw that in the kitchen Negan left her a note to say her dinner was in the refrigerator for her. She wasn’t hungry though as the firm had ordered something in for them when they had stayed late into the day.

Looking on the counter she saw that all of the children had drawn something for her and she was sure that it was of Negan’s accord. Looking at the drawings she started with Avery’s and it was what she assumed to be a sunflower with a happy face. Isabella’s drawing was one of the family done in crayon and then NJ’s drawing was one of him with her dressed in what she assumed to be her work clothes with the dogs in the picture. Raising her eyes to the center of the island drew attention to the bouquet of flowers that Negan had undoubtedly bought her making her swallow down hard. Collecting the drawings, she set them on the corner of the counter and then went to the refrigerator. She grabbed herself a drink and relaxed in the kitchen, drawing the attention of Oliver who always seemed to know when she was around.

“There’s my handsome man,” she whispered lowering down to one knee to give affection to their oldest dog that she honestly probably had the closest bond with in the family. “You should be sleeping with the rest of them.”

A small grumble fell from Oliver when he gave her a slight lick at the side of her face making her chuckle knowing that she wasn’t exactly a fan of that, but she would let him get away with it, “You ready for bed?”

With a loud exhale, she motioned Oliver to follow her to the stairs and she took her time walking up them to allow him the extra time he needed for being an older dog. Getting dressed for bed, she laid down at the center of the bed after getting her sleep clothes on and grabbed her notes from work to continue to work for a while. It wasn’t until much later when the door opened and she watched a tired Negan walk into the bedroom making Oliver lift his head up from the side of Negan’s bed where he had been laying the whole time with Y/N.

“Hey,” Negan yawned brushing his fingers through his messy salt and pepper colored hair closing the door behind him. “How long have you been home? I thought you’d want to wake up NJ so he could tell you about his day.”

“I saw the four of you sleeping together and thought I’d let all of you sleep,” she answered marking a few things on the paperwork that she had in her hands. Setting the pen down on the nightstand, she lifted her eyes to see that Negan was pulling his shirt off. He tossed it on the chair in the corner and started to undo his pants. “Did the kids wake up?”

“No, I did. I just carried them up here very carefully and put them in bed. Cooper is with Isabella,” Negan pulled off his pants and stood before her in his gray boxer briefs, adjusting the waistband at his slender hips. Moving to the bottom of the bed, Negan reached out to caress over Oliver’s ears before pressing a loving kiss over Oliver’s head. “I love you my beautiful little dude.”

With a groan Oliver got up from Negan’s side of the bed and moved down the ramp Negan made for him to head over toward the dog pillow that Negan had originally put in the corner of the bedroom. Going over to the pillow Negan pampered their oldest dog with attention before looking back over his shoulder at Y/N.

“You would have been so proud of NJ today. He did great. The bases were loaded with two outs…” Negan started to explain the game to her while she continued to try to read over her paperwork and while she didn’t mean to, she was kind of blocking him out so she could just finish these last few pages of work. It was the bed dipping that finally pulled her attention when she felt Negan pressing faint kisses at the inside of her leg. “You look so fucking hot right now. My smarty-pants wife working so hard…”

“Negan,” she huffed out feeling his kisses raising higher and higher up her leg until he got to her thigh. Lowering her papers she could see the wickedly charming smirk that he gave her when his hazel eyes lifted to hers and she saw his dimples very prominent underneath his short beard. “I’m trying to finish this.”

“And I’m okay with that,” Negan slurred, nipping at her flesh when he pulled her thighs further apart and settled down on his chest between her thighs. “I don’t mind pampering my beautiful wife while she finishes working on her case. In fact I think it would be an honor. After the long day of work she had, I don’t mind helping her fucking enjoy herself.”

With a broken breath, she felt Negan reaching underneath the long t-shirt that she had on to grab a firm hold of her panties to unhurriedly pull them from her body. Tossing them aside, Negan lowered himself back down to press hot, wet kisses over the insides of her thighs. It made her close her eyes when Negan curled his arms around her thighs to pull her hips up closer to him making her whimper when she felt the warmth of his mouth kissing at the most intimate parts of her body. It made her lower the papers she was holding further making her eyes slam shut.

“Fuck,” she cussed out knowing that he knew she wouldn’t be able to focus with him going down on her. The wet sounds of him varying between using his tongue and mouth were heard and she dropped her head back into the pillows. Negan’s tongue did long, slow strokes up the length of her sex before his lips surrounded her clitoris taking his time to suckle tenderly at her sensitive flesh. Dropping her right hand down, she sank her fingers into his thick hair enjoying the sensation of his movements getting harder. “Negan…”

Behind silent pants, she did her best to keep quiet knowing that the kids were upstairs in their bedrooms sleeping but she was still probably louder than she should have been. There was an arrogant, amused rumble that fell from Negan’s throat when the wet sounds he was making increased with the movement of his head from side to side.

Dropping her hands beside her on the bed, she curled her fingers around the sheets into fists, biting firmly down on her bottom lip when she arched her hips up toward Negan enjoying the sensations he was flooding her body with while he pampered her with his talented mouth. With a cry, she felt Negan’s grasp growing tighter around her thighs when her body started to shake against him making him hum in approval when he got her to an orgasm. Negan knew her body and he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get her off. After twelve years, she was glad that was the case, but as he pulled back and licked at his glistening lips, she could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest.

“I love you so fucking much,” Negan slurred reaching up to push at the long t-shirt that she was wearing. Kissing up over her abdomen, Negan’s lips followed the movement of him lifting the material over her body before stopping at her breast. Taking her breast into his mouth, he teased his tongue around the taut nipple bringing it to a solid peak before sucking faintly at the flesh. With a wet popping sound, he released her breast and trailed his kisses across her chest to the other breast to do the same thing he had just done making her whimper out. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten time to do this. There is always a little one in the bed with us…”

“I do have to finish those papers Negan,” she informed him with a shallow breath when Negan pulled back enough to get up on his knees over her to pull the t-shirt from her body to toss it aside. Her eyes centered in over his boxer briefs seeing his hard cock bouncing behind the material and it made her throat go dry. Negan reached for the paperwork she set aside to place it on the nightstand while she caressed her hands up and over his abdomen making a wolfish smile tug at his handsome features.

“I know and you will,” Negan slurred straightening up his posture when he felt her fingertips curling underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. With a firm tug she managed to pull them down allowing his solid cock to bounce free from behind the confines of the material it was trapped beneath. With a growl, Negan felt her fingertips curling around his thick girth to caress up and over his distended flesh. “You drive me crazy. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“You drive me crazy,” she purred, leaning forward to press a wet kiss at the throbbing tip letting the tip of her tongue drag across the sensitive flesh making Negan groan out. His stomach sank in with a shallow breath as she started to press more wet kisses over his body. “I’m glad I can still make you hard.”

“Is that a smart remark about me getting older?” Negan inquired making her roll her eyes when she pulled her head back to look up at him. “I mean there is the occasional digs about me being gray and fifty.”

“You know I like your gray,” she reminded him testing his flesh in her grasp making him reach out to caress his fingers through her hair while she continued to touch him regardless of their conversation. “The gray is sexy.”

“Just making sure,” Negan slurred, his jaw flexing when she licked her lips and leaned forward to take the tip of his cock between her wet lips. It made him groan out, his fingers grabbing a firmer hold of her hair with her taking her time to tease him with a blowjob. Lapping her tongue at his flesh made him buck his hips forward toward her making her feel a sense of power. She knew that when she did this for Negan that she had him in the palm of her hand and he absolutely melted every time. With circular caressing motions at the base of his cock, she worked to unhurriedly bob her head over his length making sure to drag her tongue along the underside of his erection with every pull back her head made toward the tip. “Fuck…fucking…”

Negan wasn’t wrong. It had been a very long time since they had been able to have sex with one another. Once Avery was born, it was hard for the two of them to really get alone time together. By the time she was finally home, Negan was exhausted after having to be dad all day long. Sometimes they would try to fool around in the shower in the morning, but one of the kids would always cause some kind of commotion that would split them up. So anything they really had with one another was quick if anything at all. Not that she could really complain about something like that considering she really didn’t always have time for sex. Even now her mind was still focused on the paperwork that she had to finish before tomorrow knowing that this wasn’t really the time but she was trying to return the gesture for what Negan had done for her.

Taking Negan as far back into her throat as she could, she heard Negan let out a deep rumble of a moan falling forward and bracing himself against the headboard of the bed while she continued her blowjob making him pant.

“Wait,” Negan muttered, using his fingers to pull back on her hair slightly to get her to stop pleasuring him. Licking his lips, Negan dragged his thumb out over her plump, bottom lip collecting the wetness that was left over her flesh. Adjusting his positioning, Negan kicked out of the material of his boxer briefs and lowered himself over her allowing himself to get comfortable between her thighs. With an arrogant bob of his head, Negan caressed his thumb in over her jawline and saw the way her lips parted when he hovered his mouth over hers.

“I thought I would just give you a blow job,” she whispered making Negan smirk, his right eyebrow arching in amusement when he reached between them to grab a firm hold of his erection to tease the aching tip through her wet folds. It made her whine and arch her hips up when the head of his cock teased over her already sensitive clitoris. “You know I have work to finish.”

“I know,” Negan hushed her, his lips finally claiming hers in a passionate kiss that took her breath away like it had always done before for the last twelve plus years. Leading his cock to her entrance, Negan rolled his hips allowing his body to sink into hers with ease making her cry out and dig her fingers into his shoulders. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

“Negan,” she purred in his ear, stroking her fingers through his messy hair feeling like her body was on fire when Negan’s thrusts started off slow and meticulous. Kiss after addictive kiss followed from Negan with his tongue brushing out against hers. The deep plunges of his cock left her gasping with each forward thrust he made and she sucked faintly at his tongue making him moan.

“I love you so much,” Negan hummed when he kissed over the side of her face toward her jawline. Reaching up, Negan grabbed a hold of her arms and pinned them against the bed, wrapping his fingers firmly around her wrists when he started to buck harder up against her. The friction from his groin rubbing up against hers had a fire burning in the pit of her belly and Negan pulled back enough to stare into her eyes enjoying the reactions he was able to build up inside of her with his movements. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” she panted feeling his grip getting tighter on her wrists and she whimpered out doing her best to rock her hips against his movements. There was a hot liquid warmth that flooded through her veins with the way that Negan was looking at her. There was no denying that her husband was sexy as hell. He was also an incredible fuck. She knew that from the first moment she slept with him. He was addictive in all the best ways and she knew she was lucky to have him in her life. Her body loved every part of him and she knew that. It was just that sometimes things were complicated. “Harder.”

“Patience,” he hushed keeping up with the same tempo that he had set and she knew that he was building her orgasm. It was something that Negan liked to do. Edge her right up to that moment of bliss just to drag it out so when she finally did come it was a body shaking, mind altering orgasm that rocked her absolutely to the core. It was a talent of his and he knew he was capable of it. “Let’s enjoy the time that we have together.”

“Fuck Negan,” she lifted her head up to look down between them seeing the deep plunges that his body was making inside of her. The tip of his cock was hitting her g-spot in such a way that he knew exactly what he was doing. Whimpers were escaping her as Negan’s thrusts started getting harder. “Please Negan…”

“You almost there?” he questioned, the warmth of his breath over hers drawing chills up and down her spine. With a nod, she could feel his thrusts getting more determined and his fingers slid from her wrists to hook with her fingers. Squeezing his fingers tightly around hers, Negan’s lips claimed hers again as he found her tensing up against him. Small shakes came from her when her cries became louder against his mouth that he was muting through his wet kisses. “You’re getting harder to keep quiet.”

“It’s been a while,” she reminded him rocking her hips up toward his movements so very eager to get that release he had been building up inside of her. “Negan, please. Please don’t stop.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan growled against her lips making her purr out when his thrusts grew in strength and her body was tingling. Doing her best to hold back the inexplicable cry that wanted to fall from her lips she desperately met Negan in a kiss and felt a rushing flood to her head. Her hips shook and she heard Negan’s deep rumble of a moan when her body started to contract around his once he got her to an orgasm. The kiss continued through his motions with him knowing that she wouldn’t be able to control her volume. After a moment, he paused his movements inside of her enjoying the way it felt as she laid beneath him breathless. “You feel so good.”

A coo escaped her parted lips when Negan released one of her hands to reach down between them to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves with the rough pad of his thumb. It made her mewl out, her hips arching up toward his caress which drew some of his cock out of her but the tip hit a sensitive spot inside of her that made her writhe beneath him.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she gasped when Negan started to thrust into her again, taking his time with his movements. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, her muscles tense from her orgasm and she still had that paperwork at the back of her mind. “I still need to do that paperwork Negan.”

“Forget the paperwork for now,” Negan breathed out against her lips reaching down to grab a hold of her thighs to get her legs over his shoulders. Adjusting his positioning he wrapped his arms around her thighs after getting up onto his knees.

The smacking sounds his lower abdomen made up against her lower thighs while he thrust inside of her filled the air and Negan’s head tipped back. A muted, raspy moan fell from him with his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Even though everything felt amazing, Y/N knew the longer they did this, the more exhausted she was going to be and she wanted to get the work done before falling asleep.

“Fuck me Negan,” she panted watching him nod his head when his thrusts started getting harder and she bit down on her bottom lip. “Come in me…”

“Give it time honey,” Negan instructed caressing over her flesh hearing her let out a frustrated sound.

“Negan, I’ve already came twice. I’m okay if you just come,” she informed him with a firm nod of her head making Negan’s movements stop completely with his hazel eyes staring out at her. “Just go ahead…”

“I’m nowhere near coming,” Negan looked down between the two of them feeling her pulling her hips up and away from him before rolling over onto her stomach. Negan watched as she got situated on her knees in front of him and he could feel her bottom rubbing up against his groin. “Y/N?”

“You like this position, right? Go ahead, just pound me,” she offered making Negan snort when he braced himself over her placing his left hand on the bed beside her while the right reach between the two of them. Stroking his fingers over the length of her sex, Negan tried to focus on her but she pulled her hips up and away. “It’s okay, just go for it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan responded with a silent breath leading the tip of his cock back inside of her. Almost immediately she brought her hips back against him in powerful, strong motions making him grunt against the side of her neck while she mainly had control over the movements between the two of them. “Why are you rushing things?”

“I don’t need four plus orgasms tonight, Negan,” she declared closing her eyes and biting down on her bottom lip while she focused on bringing her hips back against Negan allowing his sizeable length to fill her time and time again. “I just want to make you come.”

“Y/N, please…” Negan kissed at the side of her neck attempting to slow down her movements by grabbing a hold of her hips with his right hand. Trying to set a steadier pace that was more focused, he kissed over her jawline and felt her tense against him. “What is going on?”

“I just want you to come so I can get back to my work,” she insisted looking back over her shoulder at him watching the color drain from his face when she said it so bluntly. “You make me come four times and I’m going to be exhausted by the time we are done. I won’t have any energy in me to finish what I need to.”

“Are you serious right now?” Negan was at a loss for words feeling her starting to rock back into him again, but this time he wasn’t moving in response. With what she had said, he found himself shocked it had turned to that and she let out an irritated exhale. Y/N adjusted her positioning again and he felt her shoving him back onto the bed before crawling in over him. “You know what? Just forget it.”

“You’re going to come,” she demanded of Negan making his hazel eyes grow wide with his head tipping to the side. “So fucking come Negan.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Negan went to get up and she pushed her hand into the center of his chest making him hiss out when she braced her hand over his chest to keep him down. Wincing out, Negan felt her grabbing a hold of his cock and she took him back into her body. Her movements over him were hard and fast. There was no connection and she was using him in pretty much whatever fashion she wanted. This was completely against everything Negan was when he had sex. “Just…stop…”

“Stop being a baby Negan,” she snapped at him smacking over the center of his chest making him scoff at what she did. Bracing her hands she tried to focus on what she knew would feel good for Negan but noticed the way he just laid there allowing her to do whatever she wanted. “Go ahead. You can touch me.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you come again and get you too fucking tired,” Negan piped in making her annoyed with his attitude considering the subject at hand. “You know, some women would actually like having a husband that can make them come multiple times a night. A man that lasts a long time…”

“Not when they have something they need to do,” she muttered correcting him enough to let him know that she really didn’t care that he was upset about the situation. Her movements kept up and she could hear Negan grunting with every thrust down she made over him. “Come on Negan, touch me. Do whatever it takes to come.”

“If you’re so damn busy I can just go into the bathroom and jerk off,” Negan went to adjust her to get her off of him and she reached for his wrists to pin them down against the bed. Lowering over him, she stared into his hazel eyes and could see that he was angry and upset with her response to them having sex. “Just get off of me. You don’t want to do this and that’s fine.”

“Stop,” she demanded of him hearing him swallow down hard when her eyes locked with his. “I wasn’t saying it was bad. You know how good you are at sex and it feels great. I just don’t want to spend all night having sex.”

Instead of responding, Negan dropped his head back and stared out at her with furrowed eyebrows while she used the strength she still had to roll her hips over his length in powerful movements making Negan’s face twist while she did her best to bring him to an orgasm.

“You are still my ridiculously good looking, stubborn as hell husband,” she whispered knowing that by the expression over his face that he was still upset with her but not fighting her with whatever it was that she wanted. “You are fighting this so hard.”

“I’m upset,” Negan breathed out feeling her lips hovering over his wincing when he felt her fingers squeezing tighter around his wrists digging into his flesh. Grunts fell from his throat with the loud smacking sounds that filled the air with her bringing her hips back against him repeatedly taking him and out of her body in fluid movements. “I’m pretty much just your personal fucking dildo right now. You know that right?”

“I’m doing this for you,” she slurred kissing over his lips making him breathe out heavily against her flesh.

“This isn’t what I want,” Negan whispered and when those words left his lips, it almost fueled her to move harder over him making his sharp breaths fill the air around them. The bed was squeaking with the strength of her movements over him and Negan’s chest started flexing with how she was making him feel.  

“While I appreciate you wanting to make every moment romantic and fucking sensual, I sometimes just want you to come in me and fuck me Negan. Not everything has to be a spectacle. You don’t have to keep wooing me. I’ve been married to you for twelve years,” she bit at his bottom lip making him groan out and after, he tipped his head back against the bed. The vein at the side of his neck was protruding and she could tell by the way his body was tensed up beneath her that he was about to come. “Almost there…”

“Please,” Negan breathed looking between the two of them feeling his body tensing up when he tried to move, but she had him locked in. “Don’t end it like this.”

“Let it happen Negan,” she shook her head feeling his cock throbbing inside of her and involuntarily his hips arched up toward her and his faint moans started to fall from his throat. “Good boy. Just come inside of me.”

With a growl, Negan managed to use his strength to roll her over onto her back. His forehead pressed against hers, his fingers hooking tightly with hers when he thrust a few times over her making sure that they were close instead of being left to feel like an inanimate sex object. His lips claimed hers, his moans being silenced against her lips while his ropes of cum filled her after she got him to his release even against what he had asked of her.

When he was done, Negan nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck after depositing loving kisses over her flesh and she laid there feeling him going soft inside of her. Stroking her fingers over the back of his neck and through his damp hair, she took her time listening to his loud breathing. Her body was still on fire and her heart hammering inside of her chest. Her body enjoyed what they were doing, the only problem was having her mind elsewhere. And she was doing her best to be there with Negan while he laid over her and she traced her fingers over the long planes of his back.

Paying attention to the time, she gave it a few minutes before pushing into Negan to get him to roll over onto the bed beside her. Sitting up and reaching for the tissues she cleaned herself up before putting her sleep clothes back on. Grabbing her papers, she heard Negan huff and she could see that his lengthy body was stretched out and his breathing was loud.

“Is this how every time is going to be?” Negan was looking up at the ceiling, his abdomen sinking in and rising with every deep breath he took emphasizing the v-line over his slender hips that brought attention to his softening cock that was resting at his lower abdomen.

“I have an important case right now Negan,” she reminded him making Negan sigh loudly and he lazily pulled himself up into a seated position on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, okay,” Negan simply just nodded before reaching for his boxer briefs to pull them back over his slender hips. Standing at the bottom of the bed for a moment, he rest his hands on his hips before nodding toward the door. “I’m going to go lay on the couch for a while.”

“Negan,” she huffed seeing him head for the door to leave and when he did, she saw that Oliver had woken up. He was looking between her and the door as if trying to decide who to stay with. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

After staring out at her with his big brown eyes, Oliver grumbled as he pulled himself up from the bed and headed out of the bedroom to follow Negan downstairs and she dropped her papers down on her chest, “Figures.”

Taking time to think about the whole situation, she debated whether she should go after Negan but ultimately decided against it. The thing she wanted to do needed to get done and she wanted it done tonight so she could work on other things tomorrow. So Negan would just have to wait.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat​ @jennydehavilland​​ @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan​ @smallsadjellyfish​ @labyrinthofheartagrams​​  @msjamesmarch​​ @thebeautysurrounds​​ @hotfornegan​​ @redmercysugar​​ @caprithebunny​​ @tuttifuckinfruitty​​ @emoryhemsworth​​ @a-girl-interupted​​ @akumune​​ @stoneyggirl2​​ @xsarcasticwriterx​​  @insertneganhere​​ @haleygreen23​​ @xhannahbananax03​​ @sanctuaryforthelost​​ @burningredaffair​​ @killaweiser​​ @dead-of-niight​​  @ayumi-wolf​​ @hollyismentallyillhelp​​ @nt-multi-fandom​ @tone-stark​​ @chloepricerk800

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #The Walking Dead #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x you #twd fanfction #negan imagine

[gudfornuthin]

Beauty and the Beast

Chapter one

Bill Weasley x reader

Summary: After being attacked by a werewolf many years ago, Bill Weasley goes into hiding, away from the outside world. When a young girl goes in search for her father, she finds the place he’s been kept prisoner. And the person keeping him there. How will she gain the trust of this beast, and what happens when feelings start to show?

A/N: Heyyyy😅 so I haven’t updated this in like two months but I’m currently writing a book that took up a lot of time and I lost track. Either way, thank you to everyone showing support for the prologue! These first couple of chapters are going to be slow burn, mainly just until the reader meets Bill. Feedback is appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters :) I now also have tipping if anyone wants to show support that way too❤️

Elmbrook was a quiet village, tucked away from all the hustle and bustle of city life. Everyone knew everyone, and if you ever needed a helping hand, there wouldn’t be one too far away. The people were happy, doing the same routine every day, never interfering with the world outside of their small place they called home.

That’s why the young girl currently running through the streets receives strange looks. Y/N was the girls name. And she’s odd. Odd being compared to everyone else in the village. She was always seen sprinting from one place to another, her clothes disheveled and her eyes blown wide. She didn’t work the typical nine to five, rather choosing to work alongside her father and his ‘discoveries’ in magic. That was another reason for being seen as odd. Her father. He was convinced there was such things as witches and wizards out there somewhere, and he dedicated all his time and effort into proving that right. So far no luck. But he would keep searching, and his daughter followed by his side.

Y/N trips over uneven pathways several times, before finally arriving at her destination. ‘The Book Nook’. Her favourite shop, along with the one person (besides her father) who doesn’t judge her for being her. She walks into the shop, spotting the shop owner in question, leaning precariously against a ladder and reaching for a book on the top shelf.

“Good morning Mrs Figg!”

The small woman yelps, gripping the ladder and stopping herself from falling backwards. She turns and sees the young girl. “Dear lord Y/N, you scared me half to death!”

She slowly makes her way down onto safe ground, swatting at Y/N’s arm as she passes her smiling figure.

“I was wondering if you had the latest edition of Magic for Muppets,” she asks.

Mrs Figg rolls her eyes. “Your father couldn’t come and pick it up himself?” She waddles into the back room, and returns soon after with the bright red book in her hands. She never judged the family for their interest in the magical world. Mrs Figg herself dabbled in it sometimes. However, she never bothered stocking many of these books or similar in her store, considering the rest of the people in the area spat at the idea of something mystical or supernatural out there. But she would always buy in specifically for Y/N and her father. She liked their equal childlike wonder. And sometimes she hoped they would actually find some real magic, someday.

Y/N takes the book and holds it close to her chest. “You know what father is like. Once he’s in his research, he’s in deep. I’m sure he’ll pop by next month for the next edition.”

They both say their goodbyes, and Y/N strolls out of the shop, ready to make some lunch once she returns home. Before she has the chance to walk a step further onto the path, she’s knocked slightly by a strong, tall figure. The person quickly grabs her arms, stopping her from toppling over completely. The book however, ends up thrown into a puddle, now sopping wet.

“Sorry, my love. Didn’t see you there.”

The voice sends chills down her spine. Looking up, she comes face to face with dark eyes and sharp teeth, shown through a smug smile.

“Hello Fenrir. It’s quite alright.”

She brushes him off, and rushes to the book, hoping to salvage what’s left of the damp pages. It’s thankfully not completely ruined, as Y/N takes a handkerchief from inside her sleeve and cleans off the water. Hands with sharp nails yoink the book out of her hold, as Fenrir grimaces at it.

“‘Magic for Muppets’? What on God’s green earth has possessed you to read this absolute drivel?”

Y/N snatches the book from the large man, beginning her short walk back home. “It isn’t drivel, this is interesting information about something my father and I have a shared interest in. Considering it’s title, you may even be able to understand what’s written inside.”

Fenrir jumps in front of her, standing much too close for her liking. “You think insulting the man whom you are to be betrothed to is wise?”

Y/N holds her ground, taking one step closer and almost rising on her tippy toes. “We are not a couple, and I will never be your betrothed.”

She pushes his chest hard, not moving him much, but enough to step around him and make her way down the road. Fenrir watches on, an animalistic snarl on his face.

“Mark my words, I will make Y/N my wife.”

————

Y/N finally makes her way back home, closing the door behind her and huffing a sigh of relief. This wasn’t the first time she’s had to deal with Fenrir and his incessant attempts to woo her. While he’s never been overly aggressive towards her, his appearances have become more frequent and more intense. She knows he believes that soon enough she’ll end up breaking and giving in to him, but Y/N will never let that happen. This wasn’t true love. This was power and control over a woman Fenrir thought he had the right to own.

The girl walks further into the house, calling out to her father. She checks his office space, full of papers stacked high, and sketches of weird looking creatures taped to the walls. These things her father would frequently see in his dreams. They were very detailed. One of what appeared to be a platypus, surrounded by gold coins and jewellery. Another one, bright pink and very fluffy. Y/N sometimes told her father that he should write a story about these creatures. He would respond with a gruff tone, telling her that they aren’t just simply things made for storytelling. They were real, even if he didn’t have proof.

She keeps calling for her father, until steps are heard patting down the stairs. He appears with a wide smile, as well as a big bag and a long coat covering him. “Ah, Y/N! So glad I caught you before I left.”

He rushes around, grabbing food from the fridge and his gloves off the table. He’s talking to himself, something about proving everyone wrong and making sure he has the correct supplies. Y/N barely has any time to compute what’s going on.

“Father, are we going somewhere?”

He stops his frantic antics for a second, shaking his head. “Not we, my dear. Just me. I need you to hold the fort while I’m away.”

“Away where? Father what is it?”

He grabs a scarf off the coat hanger, and takes his daughter in his arms, holding her tight. “I found them.”

“Them?”

He moves back and nods. “Them! The things I’ve been seeing in my dreams. When I went strolling in the woods this morning, a gleam of yellow caught my eye. When I reached for it, a small clawed hand grabbed it before I could. It was too fast for me to catch, but I saw it. Dark fur, long snout, beady eyes. It’s that strange platypus. And i need to find it.”

He kisses Y/N on the forehead and strides to the door, walking outside with his daughter close behind.

“How can you be so sure? Maybe it was a worse for wear raccoon or a really big rat.”

Her father turns and looks at his daughter, the happiest he’d ever looked in quite some time. “I’m willing to take that risk.” He continues walking, yelling the rest over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a couple of days, my dear. I’ll soon show all of them how right we were.”

Y/N crosses her arms, a small smile creeping onto her lips. She truly hopes this time her father is right. As for now, she’ll just have to wait.

———

Tags: @timetruthhearts-moony @ohantonia @k-k-merlin @nessa3nessa @m-rae23 @kcloveswrestling @bamboozledflamplant @marvgrrl @worldswithoutendings (apologies as some tags didn’t work)

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #domnhall gleeson x reader #domnhall gleeson #beauty and the beast #x reader #harry potter #beauty and the beast x reader

[piracytheorist]

OKAY

I think it says a lot about my job that I was able to concentrate on it today and completely forget we GOT TRAILER

It was a mistake to check tumblr first thing in the morning, before I even got out of bed, but in my defense, I didn't expect it would drop at such a day and time! But anyway I did jump off of bed, turned on my laptop and recorded my face as I watched it. I needed to have that memorized XD

So, spoilers about the trailer below, and my own predictions about what each scene could be for! Reminder that I'm anime only, but have read the chapter that the first episode (probably) is based on, so for the most part I know what's going on, but for the rest I'm very much NOT aware :D Don't spoil me please :D

FAKE FAMBLY IS BACK

Manipulative Anya at her best! We love our gremlin!

Oh he's looking good :D

I fucking love this image. Look at Twilight pouting in the background. He doesn't understand why a child finds news boring.

WE GOT BLOOD WE GOT THORN PRINCESS IN ACTION LET'S GOOOOO

your honour I love him. Why does he look like he's ready to cry!

Ok from a first hearing the OP song sounds super cool. I feel like it's got "Mixed Nuts" vibes and I love it! I gotta look it up later!

Jeez Loid. Woman just woke up. Is that how he honeypoted all of his other missions?

Yor having a meltdown in the foreground and Anya being cute waking up in the background <3 I love my fake fambly <3

... okay. That's how his honeypots worked.

Yellow roses, if I'm correct, symbolize friendship. Interesting.

This is going to be a disaster and I cannot wait. Also I'm spotting Anya and Franky doing a horrible job at hiding in the left pic XD

My heart skipped a beat when I heard Anya's voice say "Moja-Moja" :')

Very sneaky. Much hiding. Wow. There's no way Franky thought this was working XD

The way all of this could have been solved with a "I tripped down the stairs and fell on my butt and now it hurts to sit" but hey we're getting a funny date how can I ask for more

Also the way Yor says that line my god

I am so ready for more Yor you have no idea

I gotta say, showing this moment is perfect for anime-onlies who haven't actually read this specific chapter. Loid just looks worried and Yor looks enraged. So many feelings for this episode XD

Are those macarons? What were the fucking chances that yesterday I went like "Next morning I'm gonna pass by that bakery that makes macarons". I haven't had macarons in years, yet I see one (1) advertisement about that bakery and its macarons and I go like yeah why not. Macarons. And now this. The fuck.

GREMLIN ANYA IS BACK

Honestly, her face in official merch is always a :D face with an almost unnaturally big smile all the time that I've missed her silly little face.

AH I WAS SENT THAT AS A MANGA SCREENSHOT!

Are those playing cards she's throwing? And is she reading someone's mind? I don't even care if she's cheating, good for you girl

Yeah, buddy, welcome to the real world.

I remember that line from the end of the bullet-in-butt date chapter, and I gotta admit I don't really like it... but the way Eguchi delivers it makes me think he's not like "Women amirite" but more like "All my years of training did not prepare me for how people are like in their day to day lives because spy training has skewed my perception of day to day 'normal'" and that's perfectly valid.

But also what the fuck is happening here. What is that cat. Why is Yor about to Thorn-Princess it. What.

So Anya goes on a studying rampage, fails, and ends up crying on her penguin?

This only made me sad, what the fuck. It looks like Loid and Yor are looking at her failing grades, and Anya is disappointed in herself. I will don my clown wig again and say "If Loid doesn't go and reassure her so help me GOD"

I... don't like the ending theme song. But that's mostly a matter of taste, I guess.

Aw.

They dare throw this to anime onlies when they know we won't get romantic canon twiyor content until three to five business years from now at least

The assassin group... I'm supposing he means the one Yor works for? How long does "for a while now" mean? Wasn't Yor working for them since she was a teenager caring for Yuri?

In any case, wow that's a very intense visual.

omg omg omg

from the colour and the angle this looks like a vision Bond has. Loid and Yor are smiling and blushing but why does it make me feel sad!!

I don't know if it's because of what is said in that moment (they look like unrelated scenes since the line is being said by a woman who I'm guessing is a fellow assassin working with Yor or something) but then there's this

And we just don't see Yor like that often, if at all in the anime so far.

What is Franky wearing? It looks like a military jacket or something. I wonder if that's just stylistic choice or it's something more important.

*snorts laugh*

Gotta admit, from a few tidbits here and there it looks like Twilight is finally gaining some more understanding of himself and his situation... but the way he says that just makes me think that realization makes him more concerned than anything else.

So I can say with conviction this did fix something in me. Though I guess the first episode will be the bullet-in-butt date, so it will take me another week to go into new territory. But! Bullet-in-butt date in 12 days! And new cool stuff to look for later on! I'm so happy!

(Again, I don't want spoilers for any of these. Just let me have my fun speculating :D)

screenshots taken from the unofficially subtitled trailer here!

#sxf

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga yet, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 65... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

OH MY GOSH...!! THIS CHAPTER!!! 😱😱😱

Okay... Before I start going crazy about THAT ENDING, I'm going to start by sharing my initial reactions and discussing the chapter as a whole...

First things first, this chapter was not initially about Anya like I thought it would be... But instead, it was all about Yor!! 😁

And since this chapter was about Yor, it delve into more of her worries about being "normal"... Which always makes me sad... 😔

You deserve the world, Yor...!! ❤

Continuing on, as Yor is out shopping, we are shown this woman and servant... And when I saw this panel, I knew that she was going to be important...!! I just didn't know how! 😅

As the woman is heading up the stairs, she suddenly trips and is about to fall...!! But luckily, Yor was there to help!! 😄

Amazed by her rescuer's skills, the woman offers Yor to come and join her for a rousing game of volleyball!! 😆

Which means that every member of the Forger family (except Bond) has been involved a sport...!! Which makes me laugh!! 😂

It turns though, this wasn't just a regular volleyball thing... It was an All-Mothers Volleyball League!! 😲 Which also had thinking that maybe some of these women were the mothers of some the Eden Academy kids...!! 🤔 Which, yet again, I didn't know for sure...!! 😅

Anyway, I kinda stop theorizing and just had so much fun watching Yor play volleyball with these other mothers!! 😄 There was so many great scenes in the volleyball match that wish I could put in here (y'know because of the 10 image limit), but I think my favorite has to be THIS:

GODDAMN YOR...!! 🤣

After all was said and done, Yor and the other mothers went out together...!! They asked her a few questions and Yor started to talk about how she doesn't know what's she supposed to do as mother or a wife... But, the women reassured Yor that none of them know what their doing either, which really warmed my heart...!!! 💗 But then...

THIS HAPPENED...:

I was like: "Wait...!! does that mean--"

AND THEN, THIS:

MY REACTION TO THE ENDING OF CH. 65:

OH MY GOD!!! WHAT!?

This chapter completely threw me for loop!! 😵 First I thought this chapter was going to be about Anya, then I thought it was just going to be a fun little chapter, and now... MY MIND IS BLOWN!!! 😲 I now have like 20 theories going on in my head...!! So here's a few:

Could Melinda be actual true mastermind and not Donovan?

Does Melinda know more about the Forger than she lets on?

If she does know more about the Forger family, could she possibly be the one ask Yor to assassinate Twilight?

Can she read minds like how some people believe that Donovan can?

Is Demetrius Desmond also apart of this?

These are only some of my thoughts but you get the idea... It's funny because I was actually going to write theory (more of a speculation) about Demetrius and how he might be working with his dad...! But now with Melinda Desmond showing up, a new can of worms has just opened up!! 🤔

Anyway, this chapter was freaking amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next!! 😆 Until the next Mission!! Peace!! ✌😎

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #yor forger #anya forger #damian desmond #donovan desmond #melinda desmond #THIS CHAPTER!!! #THAT ENDING!!! #😱😱😱😱😱 #Thoery Mode Level: EXTREME!!! #demetrius desmond #ENDO YOU'VE DONE AGAIN!!! #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #manga spoilers #Mission 65

[cup1dxzs]

Darling Little Puppet

Wally Darling X Reader

Chapter 9- One Bad Nightmare

Pitch black, static from the television, heavy breathing were the first things that came to you.

It took you a few seconds to adjust and see where you actually were and it was the last place you’d expect yourself to be, it was your house, the living room to be exact.

Panic and fear were very apparent but you didn’t know why, hell you couldn’t remember anything, it’s like you just existed solely to be there.

Hearing a loud thud made you jump, looking around the area but you couldn’t see anything except the areas that the Tv shined on, the buzzing sound was almost deafening and it was just all too much for you to handle, but that’s when you heard it, it was faint but nonetheless still there, someone laughing.

“Come out you fucker, I can hear you!” You’d angrily shout, your voice momentarily overpowered the loud static as you marched over to your Tv and shut it off aggressively, immediately regretting your choice as you couldn’t see Jack shit in the dark.

‘The gun! I Can grab the gun in the kitchen!’ You’d applaud yourself for your smart quick thinking all the while feeling bad for the poor soul that chose to mess with you on your own turf. Attempting to run to the kitchen but ending up tripping over your own sofa and falling to the floor with a loud thud, feeling something grasp at your ankle and causing you to freak the fuck out and hit it square in the- well you hit something, and you knew it hurt because you’d hear a loud groan from the other.

Despite being in pitch black you had a general idea of where everything was located, though that didn’t stop you from running into things and stubbing your toe and ultimately putting a sailor to shame with how many curses that spewed out of your mouth.

Finally reaching your kitchen, telling it was your kitchen because of the cold tile floor you’d have installed when you first moved in. Anxiously Scrambling about for your stove as you’d remember the ventilator above had a small light for when you’d stay up late and make yourself a snack, though you could say now that it was used for searching your kitchen as you looked for the gun to protect yourself from…what was even chasing you?

Stopping in your tracks, you’d look around your kitchen again and peered into the dimly lit living room but it was just silent, ‘Maybe it left after I kicked it?’ You’d silently hum in thought, the eerie silence being the main indicator that no one was in the house other then you.

“Behind you!”

__________________________________________

Jumping up as you struggled to get a good gasp of air, your chest heaved in the process. You felt your entire body covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and felt like you were just hit by a train.

“Calm down…it was just a terrifyingly realistic dream from probably the worst moment in your life..” You’d do a terrible job at comforting yourself, yanking on you hair in an act of anxiety as you tried your best to steady your breathing.

Slowly peeling off the blanket from your body, you’d sit up with a low groan feeling the ache in your body come to life, swinging your feet over the edge of the couch you’d hear the faint creak and hiss of the house, almost as if it was mocking the sound of breathing or maybe it was actually breathing? You were too drowsy you honestly could care less, but since you were awake might as well do something productive? By productive you’d mean exploring the house.

Standing up as you left the blanket neatly folded for when you’d return back to the comforts of the makeshift bed. Feeling the fuzzy rug under your feet put you at ease a little bit more while you’d stalk around in the halls of the house, taking many confusing twists and turns that even if you wanted to go back to the couch you’d doubt you’d be able to make it before the sun came up.

“This house is fucking ginormous on the inside..” Slapping your hand over your mouth as you’d panicked and looked around, maybe the house was asleep? You felt stupid that you were scared of a literal house but then again this house did let you stay under inside the comforts of it, you also didn’t want to mess around and see what it was capable of.

Continuing your journey of exploring, you personally wouldn’t call it snooping since you were just adjusting to this new world by going through Wally’s things, technically snooping a voice in your head would loudly nag at you but who could blame you for doing this? It wasn’t everyday a person would randomly teleport into some puppet show they’d watch on a random morning and getting attacked by someone later at night, therefore you were doing the only thing a sane person would do.

Opening a door that led you into a room and flipping a switch to illuminate the things it contained, it had a small inside but filled to the brim with paintings and drawings hung on the wall, some were extremely detailed to the point where it could fool you that it was a photo…

Oh.

They were actually photos that caused you to laugh at your gullibility, most of them consisted of butterflies and scenic photos and as for the drawings some of them were good and just cute little doodles while the others were just plain chicken scratch. Assuming the room was for arts and crafts as there was cans of paint and paintbrushes scattered around, along with a box of paper. Deeming this room clear you’d turn the switch off and stepped out, shutting the door softly to continue your journey of exploring.

About to turn away, you’d see something in the corner of your eye, turning your head as you’d watch that something turn into a bright red door? You could’ve sworn that wasn’t there when you’d walk down that hall but then again it was very late and very dark so it was probably mind tricks or being sleep deprived, either way didn’t stop you from walking closer to investigate.

Now at the entrance of the door you’d reach your hand out-

“What are you doing Y/n?” Wally’s very lively voice came first and his death grip on your hand came second, you were sure it was gonna bruise by tomorrow.

Well shit.

———————————————————————————

Guys I’m so sleepy rn 😭 i stayed up cuz I felt bad if I deprived you guys of your daily sustenance but not to worry because I delivered! Have a good day I love you all ❤️  also lmk if I messed up anywhere I can barely keep my eyes opens

#wally darling #wally x reader #welcome home #x reader #wally my beloved #constructive critism welcome #pls let me know #welcome home wally #welcome home puppet show #puppets

[tadpolesonalgae]

Omg ICBMTHY is so so good! I binged it this morning and i am already obsessed!! 😍😍

Also can we talk about how awful all of the IC is in this? Like not one of them has tried to talk to her, to try to understand her? Do you people not care?! She’s clearly suffering in silence, just because her pain is not as obvious a her sister’s it doesn’t mean it’s not there!!! Ugh, they make me so mad.

Also Eris. I love his character so so much but i have to admit he was a bit o a d*ck to our dear Reader with tho whole swan thing. I hope he sees that and apologizes or something and they actually become really good friends. Like he could teach her about how things works in Prythian and how to have some self-worth and dignity.

And Azriel omg just this bat needs a good slap. I honestly would rather the Reader end up with Eris or Helion. This Azriel is so mean and toxic. Like babe, if you want to end up with her you have a WHOLE lot to make up for.

And i really hope the Reader leave the Night Court. Just like flees in the night and makes them al regret being such d*cks to her. Like she could go to the exiles with Lucien, to Autumn with Eris or Day with Helion. I mean i would even be happy if she went to Spring tbh.

Anyway sorry for the rambling but i needed to get it all out. Your writing is amazing and I cannot wait to see what happens now and to read everything else you have!!

Lots of love 💕

Warnings below: mentions of ableism + human experimentation

This sort of stuff (regarding how obvious someone’s problems are) really interests me in a fantasy setting? I mean, the whole idea of mental disorders is a pretty recent realisation? I’m fairly certain that doctors/surgeons would sometimes operate on disabled people because they thought they couldn’t feel pain and were sub-human which is pretty horrific to think about :/

What I’m saying is I wonder how advanced their medical knowledge is? If technical terms exist??? Is the concept of mental health well-known???? Fun stuff 🥳

I mean, Feyre’s trauma manifested both physically and mentally; Nesta’s seemed much more internal though as a consequence it did have an impact on her physical health also, while reader so far has managed to keep to herself and aside from that one burst with Feyre, she hasn’t really shown many obvious signs to pick up on?

The Eris scene makes me laugh 🤩

He definitely should apologise, but… well, he’s Eris. Outlook not too good 🤔

WOW

You know it’s getting bad when you want reader to run away to the Spring Court 😭

Jokes aside, there is a fun little trip coming up (I would guess maybe two chapters away but I’m not sure? I want to keep the story entertaining but I also don’t want to rush any of the developments :/)

And please don’t apologise for rambling, I absolutely love reading your thoughts! It’s so fun to interact with these sorts of asks and seeing your reactions 🧡💛

#anons <3 #CBMTHY

[squishmallow36]

It's all I wish to hear tonight, and you're all I wish to be, and this is how we all fall - Chapter one

Summary: It's the Garvar fic! Wdym you want a summary? It's a retelling of the first chapter of kotlc from Garwin's pov. That's--that's pretty much it. We do have them interact which is pretty nice. There will be more loosely connected chapters to come but I don't know how many or how they'll turn out. Word count: 2730

TW: swearing, drug mention, mentions of kidnappings and murder in relation to the Sophie/Fitz interaction

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @remember-me-in-another-time @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @xanadaus @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death. Also @frogs-and-flowers-and-faeries @camelspit you two seemed interested

On AO3 (only to registered users because y'know, AI) or below the cut

   If there’s one thing universally agreed upon by high schoolers, it’s this: field trips are fun. Or at least they should be, in theory. 

    Instead of being locked in a classroom for eight hours a day, you get to go outside, cause some havoc, you know, the usual. 

    Your other teachers end up being nice because you cried to them that between all your classes and this field trip, you need an extra week on that paper that you’ve had assigned for three months and you haven’t started and is due tomorrow for a reason. 

    And, most of the time, as an extra bonus, you learn absolute jack shit. 

    The only problem arises when the teacher that is taking you on the trip seems to forget that part and forces you to actually pay attention with the threat of a quiz, and knowing him, he’s going to make it absolutely horrendous. 

    Yes, dinosaurs are badass but having to listen to your teacher read the plaques out loud makes gouging your eyes out seem like a good course of action. 

    Are we completely sure the teachers here have a 100 percent literacy rate? Garwin wonders, rolling his eyes as Sweeney struggles through another scientific name. I mean, knowing this school system, it would not surprise me. 

    There’s a couple of nerds taking notes but honestly there’s no chance. If there is a quiz, it’ll be the type of thing that’s “What year, exactly, did the cretaceous era end?” And the multiple choice options will all be around that 66 million years ago mark ingrained in everyone’s soul but you have to remember that science was able to determine the meteor fell on a Thursday and from that you have to extrapolate what the date would have been. 

    Can a meteor fall on us this today Thursday? That’d be great. No more AP exams.  

    And yeah, AP classes are supposed to have a curve, but with that little photographic memory of Dophie’s only half paying attention and half listening to MCR so loud it can be heard from three miles away, she’s gonna get a perfect score. 

    Case in point: Sweeney finally hears Gerard screaming and catches onto the fact that Sophie is completely ignoring his existence, per usual. 

    “Miss Foster!” He yanks her earbuds out by the cords. “Have you decided that you’re too smart to pay attention to this information?”

    Well, she can probably legit get a zero on the final and still carry a 93 in the class. So I’d probably say the answer is yes. I think we all know that little smartass corrects Sweeney on a daily basis. 

    Between the typos and the shit he gets plain wrong, it was entertaining to see him flounder at the beginning of the year, but at this point she doesn’t seem to grasp the idea that everyone’s given up on the lost cause of a man. 

    This entire class has all had to suffer through more school than she’s been alive. Other than the dumbass sophomores in the class. But it wouldn’t be surprising to find out they were smoking weed in the back of class for a “science experiment.” 

    Ah, the things you can get away with in AP Enviro Science and a teacher that doesn’t care. Except about the toddler in his class who listens to music but hey. Maybe he’s insecure because he’s stupid and he has to maintain control over some aspect of his life.  

    Sophie mumbles something, denying it as she attempts to retract into her shell like a turtle. Unfortunately, humans don’t usually come with a shell, so she isn’t very successful. 

    “Then perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?” Sweeney dangles the headphones in front of her as she rips out an eyelash. 

     Now, Garwin may have only gotten a 2 on the AP Psych exam last year because he only paid attention half the time because those daily quizzes were ass, but that doesn’t seem like the healthiest of coping mechanisms. 

    Sophie simply stares at the ground to pretend like Sweeney isn’t harassing her. 

    “Since you’ve decided you’re above this lecture, why don’t you give it?” Sweeney asks, gesturing to the definitely-accurate reconstruction of an orange hadrosaur. “Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied.”

    You see, one of these was the Pteranodon family’s neighbor on Dinosaur Train. Larry Lambeosaurus was an endless pit that never seemed to fill with food, much like the average teenager. Unlike the average teenager, however, this may have something to do with his diet of tree and its caloric density, or lack thereof. 

    Instead of listening to Sophie rattle off dinosaur facts learned from a lifetime of being a fucking nerd, Garwin chooses to look at literally anything else for some scrap of entertainment. 

    Like, for example, the Albertosaurus. And imagining it coming to life and eating everybody à la Jurassic Park. That would be fun. 

    Sweeney gets increasingly pissed off as she keeps going. He really should’ve learned long ago to not challenge her ‘cause it ain’t gonna go well for him. He mutters something under his breath, and turns to go to the next increasingly stupid dinosaur. 

    Actually, Garwin takes that back. The dinosaurs themselves aren’t stupid. It’s the whole idea of having to get dragged to a place to forcefully learn about them instead of actually studying for the AP exam in less than two weeks. Not that he actually cares about that though. 

    “Nice job, superfreak,” he says to Sophie as she stands helplessly in the middle of the walkway. He pushes past her in an effort to appear engaged enough to not get another detention. “Maybe they'll write another article about you. 'Child Prodigy Teaches Class About the Lame-o-saurus.’”

    Garwin’s gaze lands on someone reading the newspaper with Sophie’s face plastered across it. Yeah, the guy’s kinda cute with dark hair and teal eyes flicking up at Sophie ever so often…but, like, he’s probably freshman-ish years old and that’s kinda weird in the middle of the school day, not gonna lie. 

    And he isn’t in this class, that’s for sure. So he’s probably ditching. Kind of a dumb move to ditch and then go to a museum but hey. That’s his life choice and it’s not Garwin’s fault it’s stupid. 

    Garwin rolls his eyes as he moves into the next room. The desire to cause large amounts of property damage by climbing up the statues is immense, but, alas, one cannot succumb to temptation. 

    Their resident curvebuster doesn’t follow, and, honestly, that is a choice. Maybe if she gets eaten by a dinosaur or kidnapped with the guy pulling a Ferris Bueller, this class might know peace once again. 

    A not-small part of him could not give less of a shit if she disappears suddenly, and another not-small part of him can’t help but see the advantages. Maybe then we won’t all fail the class. It’s not like San Diego City College is going to miss her. Chances are, she’ll be the same to her unfortunate classmates there. 

    As the group shuffles around a reconstruction of a Triceratops, Sweeney begins droning on and on and on and on about the different types of ceratopsians, and it’s a damn fucking shame the one with three horns became famous instead of, like, the Kosmoceratops. 

    That fucker’s got fifteen horns and it’s common knowledge that an animal’s coolness is exponentially correlated with number of things that it has that can kill you. 

    In order to quell the rising tide of complete and total apathy, Garwin once again begins the search for something--anything--interesting to occupy his time.

    And don’t you know it? There’s a hot guy hiding in a corner trying desperately not to be seen. 

    Between him and the kid reading the newspaper in the other room, something weird is definitely going down. So the obvious course of action is to walk up to the guy and see what’s up. Maybe even flirt a little. As soon as he can escape from Sweeney’s torture chamber, that is. 

    In the meantime, Garwin can still stare at him. He has dark hair gelled to perfection and light blue eyes. His eyelashes are visible from this massive distance away, so they must be super long and therefore super hot. Garwin’s fingers ache to trace his sharp square jaw and his skin is a light tan with a dusting of freckles for good measure. 

    In short, he’s absolutely fucking gorgeous. 

    He’s way too far to be certain, but he kind of does look like newspaper boy…for reasons that are as of right now indescribable other than sheer vibes. 

   And he’s wearing a black batman sweatshirt--a foolish decision on a partially sunny day such as today--that hangs in such a way to suggest he’s got some muscles hiding beneath it. 

    The world would be improved in many ways if that sweatshirt was a little less on.

    Then, suddenly, by some miracle, some grace of god, Sweeney lets them explore for themselves. An argument could be made that he realized that no one was paying attention, but the more likely case is that he got tired of teaching and is now allowing them the slightest sliver of freedom to maximize his own laziness. 

    Garwin floats over to the guy in the corner as nonchalantly as possible as his traitorous heart is doing backflips in his chest. He was tall from a distance, but he’s even taller up close. 

    “Hey,” he says. Hey? Hey? That’s the most creative thing you could come up with? A cheesy pickup line would be better at this point.  

    “Hey yourself.” Guy-in-the-corner says with the slightest hint of a smirk. “I’m Alvar, what’s your name?”

    Garwin is almost too distracted by Alvar’s thick accent--almost British, but somehow crisper--to remember his own name. “I’m Garwin. It’s nice to meet you.”

    “Do you really think they looked like that?” Alvar asks. “The dinosaurs, I mean. It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?” 

    “Would you rather have the nerd answer or do you want the smartass answer?” Garwin replies. 

    “Who says I don’t want both?”

    “Ah. Well then. The nerd answer is that at least some of them should have feathers. They are the ancestors to birds, after all. The fact that none of them do is a little yikes. And as for my other answer, I’m not a paleontologist, but,” Garwin points to a fossilized sauropod…or at least a skeleton of one that may or may not be real, “that one might be a tad bit skinny.”

    Alvar laughs, a glorious sound. His eyes wander away from studying Garwin, focusing out of the room, landing on Sophie fucking Foster. 

    Ah, yes. First she gets into Yale without even trying and now she’s gained the attention of multiple people which depending on the intentions could be really fucking creepy. She’s literally twelve. This is complete and utter bullshit. 

    “Is that the kid on the front of the newspaper today?”

    “Yeah,” Garwin replies bitterly. 

    Alvar makes a thoughtful sound and looks back at Garwin, who has begun leaning against the wall. Yes, there’s a plastic fern between them but you do what you can. 

    “Come on, Fitz. Don’t be a total dumbass,” Alvar whispers as newspaper boy--Fitz--begins to step away from Sophie.  

    A swarm of kindergarteners barreled into the exhibit, nearly knocking both Sophie and Fitz off their feet. They hold their heads in their hands like their brains are physically getting stabbed and when they make eye contact again, Sophie watches Fitz in fear. 

    Why that is, Garwin can’t tell, but there’s something in Alvar’s expression that seems like he suspects something, and Garwin would give anything--except a full ride scholarship to Yale--to know what he does. 

    In the time Garwin spends studying Alvar’s features for clues and getting lost in his eyes, Sophie has magically disappeared. Fitz swears, probably loud enough to be heard all the way at the zoo across the street, as he runs after her. 

    Alvar rolls his eyes. “Life choices. Do I run after my dumbass of a brother or do I leave him be? Decisions, decisions,” he asks himself. 

    What the fuck? 

    Garwin looks back at Alvar to find him already watching him. “Would you like me to go tell Sweeney or just…let her skip class?” And probably get murdered just a little bit. 

    It takes a good few seconds for him to process this request. “Eh, I’m sure he’ll notice sooner or later.”

    Oh my fucking god this guy is fucked up. I don’t like Sophie, but I’d rather she not get kidnapped.

    …Is it bad that he's still hot?

        “Why the fuck are you two harassing Sophie?” The question comes out more forcefully than Garwin intends, but not enough to walk it back. 

    “That is one very long story and I don’t think you’d believe half of it. But let’s see--how simplified can I get this?” He pauses, formulating. “We’ve basically got a switched at birth situation going on here except we don’t exactly know who her actual parents are and well that’s a whole thing that I’d rather not get into right now. Also we don’t know if she’s actually the kid we’re looking for. And by we I mean mostly our dad but he isn’t here right now because he figured it would be less creepy for us to stare at children than he would be. And then Fitzy over there doesn’t know I’m here for extensive and even more complicated reasons. And he wasn’t supposed to interact with her. Problems all around.”

    Garwin considers this explanation for a moment. On the one hand, it leaves him with more questions than answers, and on the other hand, he doesn’t really care enough to ask for further elaboration. 

    “Just don’t murder Sophie. I don’t need to see her on the front cover of the newspapers that should already be obsolete two days in a row,” he decides. 

    Alvar smiles. His teeth are brilliantly white, and it’s ever so slightly crooked in such a perfect way that makes it seem practiced. His cobalt eyes fix Garwin to the spot as they turn toward each other. 

    “And, um, before I go, I do immensely apologize if I’m reading this wrong, but would you like to go out with me sometime?”

    “Why the hell else do you think I wandered over here? Absolutely.” 

    Instead of giving Garwin his phone number like a normal person by writing it on a sticky note or the back of his hand with a sharpie that doesn’t come off for a week or just directly typing it into their phone, Alvar comes equipped with a stack of business cards. 

     And honestly, it’s not even that surprising. Like, yes, he’s only known the guy for a grand total of fifteen minutes, but that tracks with what he knows so far…which isn’t much. But it still counts. Bitch. 

    Garwin smiles. “I’ll call you and set up details when I can look at my calendar and I’m not already busy with club meetings and shit.”

    “Sounds good.” 

    After a short pause, Alvar opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by Sweeney’s nasal whining before he gets the chance. 

    Garwin rolls his eyes. “I guess I should get back to the fucked up reality that is the American school system. See you later.” 

    “Bye,”  Alvar replies, smiling. 

    Garwin makes his way back to the class reforming around Sweeney like a slime mold, taking his sweet time to not seem too eager to be going back to the hellhole that is occasionally referred to as a school but not dicking around so much he gets left, as making his way back there himself would be mildly inconvenient. 

    And we can’t have that, now, can we?

    Garwin looks back into the corner to sneak one more glance at the indescribably attractive boy who has for some reason asked him out only to find that he’s nowhere to be found. 

    Was he just a figment of my imagination?

    Garwin checks his back pocket, hissing as the sharp edges of a business card leave him with a paper cut. 

    Guess that solves that mess. 

    Now if only all the world’s problems could be solved so easily, we’d be onto something. 

#kotlc #kotlc fanfic #garvar #garwin chang #kotlc garwin #kotlc alvar #alvar vacker

[fluffypotatey]

Hi! Me again. Do you have any headcanons about the JTTW gang? I'd LOVE to hear all of them: the fluff, the funny, and the angsty. How did you think Tripitaka found SWK when he's inside the mountain itself instead of under it, and why? Why did Ao Lie reveal himself in his human for to the two at the bridge? In the book the trio met Zhu Bajie when the father of the the pig's wife requested their help to bring his daughter back, it even referenced this in the game, but in the flashback they met at Zhu Bajie's food stall where it seems like Trip was complaining about the food to the chef. How do you think the showdown between Sha Wujing and the quartet went down in this verse? Who do you think Wujing challenged first?

hey! sorry i'm replying to these a day late T^T

so imma assume you meant the jttw gang in the context of lmk bc any headcanons of them within the book is a tough one for me bc i'm still reading through it and trying to differentiate between what's a translation issue and what's "canon" is a time :)

anyway,

i think i mentioned this before, but i love the idea of Sun Wukong finding comfort in Tripitaka and Ao Lie out of the rest of the companions post-journey. like if he were ever in a slump or feeling overwhelmed he would go to them (or they would reach out to him if they notice swk being less chipper and talkative). i think even before Wukong's isolation, he would not go out and visit people as often, mostly keep to his friends and allies (how many few they were now).

also, Ao Lie would take Wukong on so many trips into the city just as an excuse to hang out and give swk a chance to be outside. i have an inkling that Ao Lie is the type to get lost or accidentally find himself in a precarious situation that swk would have to help him from (taking a wrong turn and finding himself face-to-face with a gang or something for example, and, being the conservative warrior he is, Ao Lie would not fight them or anything). one of Ao Lie's favorite places would be the city's theater districts because it was the most colorful, and Wukong would allow the dragon to drag him along anyway, past memories be damned.

with Tripitaka, i think Wukong enjoys making playful jabs at the monk for funsies. when they were originally acquainted, these jabs were more hurtful and condescending and aggravated the monk to no end. now tho, the jabs are in good fun, and Tripitaka's sighs are more jovial than exasperated. (though he does have times when the exasperation does come bc Wukong is nothing if not a monkey hell-bent on mischief, and Tripitaka always seems to be the guy he calls to help bail him out. out of love of course.) and given that i am a "Tripitaka and Sun Wukong's relationship wasn't abusive" truther, i like to believe that both monkey and monk view their relationship as something that resembles familial and brotherly.

Wukong and Zhu Baije i headcanon as rivals to friends who are still rivals but now care for each other deeply. they will shit-talk each other, they will get into spats, they will threaten to murder the other ("roast pork-let on a stick" and "make their own monkey pelt skirt"), they will give Tripitaka and Sandy/Sha Wujing the worst of headaches but it's with love <3

Wukong and Sha Wujing are comedian buddies. i am so sure about this, the pregnancy chapter confirmed it to me. Wukong told me himsel-

but enough about my opinions about their alleged relationships in th lmk context....for le questions!!!

well, from what i remember, Ao Lie first introduced himself as, and to quote Red from OSP, "an enormous fuck-you dragon" before changing shape into his human form. so, probably during his little skirmish with Wukong (+ Tripitaka hiding behind a rock), he realized that the two were supposed to be his companions on the journey, and switched up real fast to show them that he's actually friendly!

i do think it's interesting how Zhu Baije's story is different 👀 i'm guessing they changed it to show some similarity to Pigsy and his ancestor? so the reference we saw in the game could have just been an in-book easter egg??? i honestly don't know why they changed that, but it is funny to think that Zhu Baije was a cook who met the gang when he captured Tripitaka so that his business could boom with serving specialized, holy monk meat 😂 i can, like, imagine Wukong busting down the doors of Zhu baije's "restaurant" demanding that he give the demon his monk back lmao (but that also adds another bit of confusion bc Zhu Baije was chosen by Guanyin, Goddess of Mercy, to be one of the pilgrims for the journey, so he should have recognized that the monk he wanted to eat was the monk he was supposed to protect? unless in lmk, Guanyin didn't go out and choose companions for Tripitaka?????)

now for the showdown with Sha Wujing, i bet 100 bucks that the order of fights went like this:

Sha Wujing asks/demands which if the four would fight him to be called the "strongest demon of all,"

Wukong opts for going bc he's the fucking Monkey King™️,

Zhu Baije says fuck that bc he is NOT gonna let the monkey show off again,

Zhu Baije loses, Wukong offers to help (not really, he did that to piss the pig off) & Baije tells him to fuck off,

Baije loses 3-5 times later, tripitaka pleads for the pig demon to stop and just "let the monkey do it, dear Buddha,"

Wukong rolls up his sleeves,

Sha Wujing laughs and calls Wukong puny,

Sha Wujing is pomelled to the ground without breaking a sweat,

Baije complains that he helped weaken the river demon for Wukong

exactly like that, yeah

#hope i answered them well! #it got a little long lol #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk sun wukong #jttw #jttw crew #sun wukong #lmk tripitaka #lmk ao lie #lmk zhu bajie #lmk sha wujing #asks

[exhuastedpigeon]

WAIT NO ONE ASKED YOU QUESTIONS!?

Okay. Every single odd number on that list.

I reblogged that post last night and fell asleep almost immediately after 😂😂! Thanks for asking Tanis!!

1. Share a song that makes you think of [fic title] Afraid of Heights by boygenius always makes me think about it hurts to hope for more. I listened to that song on repeat while writing it that no whenever I heart it I think about that fic.

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? That's like asking me for my favourite child (not that I have kids). I'm sticking with buddie fics here since I have almost 150 fics on Ao3 and that's way too many to think about.

Honestly, there ain't no turning back might be my favourite even though it isn't fully published!

Or I really love gold when you see me too.

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write? Answered here :)

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now? Uhhh too many?? I have 5 'active' wips (meaning I'm actually working on them a little bit) and like 20 other ideas. I tend to get an idea, work on it like my hair is on fire, and then when I lose the beans half the time the wip goes to collect dust.

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written! I try to write every day, even if it's just one sentence! Here's something I updated from the NHL AU today!

Buck’s much less self destructive now, thank you team mandated therapy and a bit of heartbreak, but he still has a big personality. He’s got the kind of personality that used to land him on Don Cherry’s shit list before he was finally kicked off Hockey Night in Canada for being a racist old fuck. But, that personality of his means he’s the kind of guy who the Kings marketing team loves because he’s down for basically anything they throw at him. 

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics? I tend to find a couple of songs that match the vibe I'm going for or that really inspire me and then listen to those on repeat.

13. How much planning do you do before writing? Answered here

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters? Usually song lyrics! Sometimes a title comes into my head out of nowhere, but usually I end up searching for a lyric that feels right.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic? I learned all about the best sunrise views at the southern rim of the Grand Canyon for there ain't no turning back! It made me really want to go to see the sunrise there, even more than I already wanted to before!

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs. This is from my NHL AU! In the fic Buck is Canadian and when they go to Canada on a road trip Buck has to scope out a Tim Hortons immediately.

It would be a lie to say that as soon as they landed in Ottawa Buck went to Tim Hortons, because they landed at 11:45, only a couple of hours after a win in Buffalo. It’s been a long and cold east coast trip - they’re on the road for almost 10 days for this one and Ottawa is the third to last stop.  It wouldn’t be a lie to say that the first thing Buck did when he woke up in their hotel was to jump out of bed, wake Eddie up in the bed next to him, and drag him to the Tim Hortons next to the hotel.  And listen, Buck knows that objectively Timmies is just fine. It isn’t bad, it’s just not actually good either. But he’s a Canadian boy, he grew up on Timbits after practice with Maddie and hanging out in the Tim Hortons parking lots during high school, at least for the couple years he was around before moving to Kitchner to play juniors. Tim Hortons will always have a special place in his heart.

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why? Yeah, it was a scene that I wrote really early in the writing process and by the time I finished the fic the scene just didn't fit the vibe. I ended up using bits of it in another fic though, so it wasn't all a waste!

23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)? I try to find a natural stopping point, but typically I don't write chaptered fics. I think of my 149 on Ao3 only like 15 of them are chaptered, maybe less.

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing? I've made myself WEEP while writing and weep again while rereading later.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why? I was a little nervous to share it hurts to hope for more because it was a really important fic to me (and really personal to me in some ways). I didn't want people to hate it because it felt so close to my heart.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.) I don't think I'll ever finish this fic so I'll share a bit here. When I saw on the fandom wiki that Eddie and Buck were actually probably the same age (1991/1992) I started a fic that's a snippet of each of their lives at the same time period. This is from the Eddie - 18 section.

There was a little plus sign on three separate pregnancy tests. Eddie rests his head on the bathroom counter, hunching over from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Shannon’s bathroom. To her credit, Shannon looks like she’s holding it together more than he is. He was leaving for basic in a month and a half, she was supposed to be moving out of state for college in two.  Eddie took a deep breath, then another, before looking up at Shannon again. Her eyes were red rimmed, but otherwise she looked composed. He pushed down the fear that was threatening to crawl out of his chest, up his throat, and out of his mouth and instead said, “Whatever you want to do, I’ve got your back.” “I want to keep it,” Shannon said after a beat.  “Okay, then we keep it,” Eddie reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “What do we do now?” “I have no fucking idea,” Shannon half laughed, half sobbed. Eddie stood up and wrapped her in a hug, holding her to his chest. 

Fan Fic Writer Asks

#Fan Fic Writer Asks #asked and answered