#link really doesn’t know what could of happened between them both | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dailydragon08 · 28 days

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I'd love to read about the Falcon gang realizing Luke has a crush on you, and I'm clumsily trying to hide it from them

I love this prompt so much, thank you for the ask! Sorry this one got away from me a little bit, I just really love writing about Luke with a crush/pining Luke.

My masterlist is linked in the pinned post on my page! Don’t forget, if you like the fic, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Let’s start with Luke and what he’s doing. I don’t know if I would say he’s really going out of his way to try and “hide” his crush from you specifically, per se, but he’s also not shouting it from the rooftops. I could see all eras of Luke not really minding if you figure it out, just so you could maybe talk about it and see if being together is something you’d be interested in. But all eras of him tread a bit carefully at first (in my mind, ESB Luke is the most bold while ROTJ Luke is the most careful), just doing little things or sometimes purposefully giving little hints here and there to kind of test the waters and see how you react, if you like what he’s doing, if you’re starting to get more comfortable around him, etc. But oh boy, does he really want to hide it from the Falcon Gang – at least until he figures out how you feel and what path you’re taking forward. For one, he doesn’t want to annoy or burden them by constantly talking/asking about you, and for another, he wants to take things at his own pace and doesn’t want any of them to try and interfere to speed things up lest you get spooked and run the other direction. The older he is, the more he also worries about how being with him could put a target on your back and wants to make sure you can protect yourself and/or he’s able to protect you.

How clumsily he hides his crush on you would really depend on the era that he’s in. ANH Luke is the most likely to trip over himself, get caught most often staring at you with the biggest puppy eyes, and is always the first to rush forward and help you with something with an excited “I’ve got it!” He’s also most likely to let a compliment slip out that he thought was only in his head, then look a bit like a deer in the headlights when he realizes that was out loud. Once the rest of the gang figures it out, this era of Luke will talk the most openly (not completely spilling every thought in his brain, but just the most willing to talk at all about it) and ask the most questions about whether or not you’ve said anything to them or given them any clues as to your feelings.

ESB Luke is, like I’ve said in previous posts, a bit better about hiding his feelings, but it’s very obvious to those who know him. He still gets caught staring at you often and isn’t the best at looking away before you make eye contact with him. Now that he’s got more combat and Force-related skills under his belt, he’s a bit more protective of you (he always was, but now even more so because of his newfound confidence and rank) and is the most prone to jealousy out of his three eras. I could see both ANH and ESB versions of him going out of their way to try and impress you (and sometimes comically failing) if it seems like someone else is trying to catch your attention. Once he’s found out, he’s a bit more close-lipped, but will admit to liking you and being unsure how you feel about him. He’ll talk for a few minutes at a time about all the things he likes about you before saying he’d just like to take it slow and see where this whole thing naturally goes, but then that’s the end of the conversation.

ROTJ/post-ROTJ Luke is a bit more settled in who he is as a person, what’s happened to him, and who his father is, but he’s still going through a lot. How he handles his crush will really depend on exactly where in ROTJ he is. Between saving Han, finishing his training with Yoda and staying by his deathbed, finding out Leia is his sister, and knowing there’s a strong possibility that he’ll die facing Vader and the emperor, he’s got a ton on his shoulders. For this reason, I could see him becoming more distant because – despite still having strong feelings for you – he’s afraid to get involved and then leave you heartbroken if something happens to him. That, along with Obi-Wan’s ghost telling him to “bury his feelings deep down” and honor the original order’s no attachment rule, he’s also a bit confused on what his future will even look like and if having a crush will even be an avenue open to him. It’s my personal headcanon that post-ROTJ, as he learns more about who he is, the kind of jedi he wants to be, the kind of order he wants to cultivate, and the importance of connection and how it’s different than possession, he decides to do away with the no attachment rule and make teaching about connection (healthy) vs. possession (unhealthy) part of the jedi training. He did save his father because of their attachment, after all. So this era of Luke is the most likely to let himself really experience a crush and falling in love for the first time, in my opinion. He takes things slow and still gives you little hints here and there vs. big, grand gestures – but he also is doing things with the intent of letting you know how he feels while patiently waiting for you to either return the gestures/initiate a talk about your feelings whenever you’re ready, or is watching for signs that you’re not into what he’s doing. He’ll be sad, of course, but he’ll respect your wishes.

Whew, okay, I didn’t realize I had so much to say, sorry. Moving on…

Leia is the first to realize what’s going on. Even if she hasn’t realized she’s Luke’s twin or Force-sensitive yet, she’s always been very in tune with him. If she knows you well, she’s shipping the two of you much earlier in the process and practically banging her head into a wall when Luke says he’s unsure if you return his feelings when to her, it couldn’t be more obvious. In this case, she wants so badly for him to just be direct about his feelings so you can make use of every second you have in your crazy lives, but she lets him make his own decisions. If she doesn’t know you that well, she’s keeping her eye on you to determine whether your interest in him is genuine and not just because of his fame, power, and accomplishments. As she gets to know you better, she comes around. In both situations, she’s doing whatever she can to play subtle wingwoman – especially with her rank within the rebellion, she’s making sure you two are on missions together as much as possible, your rooms are close to each other, you both always happen to have the same days off every time, she’s slipping little comments in to him about what your favorite things are, your hobbies, likes/dislikes, etc. If he really does want to take his time, Leia makes sure he’s armed with all the knowledge to best make use of it. Even though she’s chomping at the bit for you two to get together, she does still try to be (or at least, start out) gentle when she gives Luke advice or asks if he’d like to talk about you or his feelings, and is always combating Han’s horrible dating advice with reminders that he just do whatever comes naturally to him with what he knows about you – because at the end of the day, if you can’t like him for who he naturally is, then there’s no point to any of this.

Han’s reaction depends a bit on Luke’s age. The younger he is, the more obnoxious and frequent Han’s teasing is. Especially if it’s before he and Leia get together, he’ll make comments to Luke about whether he thinks you’d make a good SO for him, or he’ll flirt with you when it’s just the three of you just to ruffle Luke’s feathers. As they both get older and become closer though, the teasing will die down a bit to comments about how Han notices Luke’s doe eyed-stare, suggests you won’t be single forever, and of course, gives the worst dating advice that have Leia and Lando face-palming so hard in the background. Especially once Luke becomes a jedi knight, really the most he’ll get is a gentle elbow in the ribs with some wiggled eyebrows, maybe followed by some prompting to go talk to you when you’re standing/sitting alone. At the end of the day, he really does just want his friend to be happy. Like Leia, if he doesn’t know you well, he’s watching you extra closely for a bit and maybe even trying to get to know you better himself so he can determine whether you’re a good match. Despite his devil may care attitude, Han is very attentive to his friends and is aware of all the pain Luke’s been through – that being said, he doesn’t want to watch him go through potential heartbreak after all that either. Again though, like Leia, he eventually comes around and counts you as one of the Falcon gang – although he’s a bit more oblivious to when you two are having a moment and the others sometimes have to comedically yoink him out of a room before he interrupts and ruins it.

Although Lando also wants the best for Luke, he doesn’t know him or his background that well, so isn’t as protective. However, if you’re a newcomer, Lando is the most immediately welcoming of the group and can tell you’ll be a great addition – whether you and Luke get together or not. Lando is very astute when it comes to listening and watching and waiting for the right moment – so of course, he picks up on the subtle yearning glances, the slight blushes, compliments, any sort of physical affection Luke is willing to throw your way, how much more gentle he suddenly becomes with you (he was already gentle before, but he’s somehow even softer when you’re around), the way his face lights up when you walk into a room, etc. He clocks it immediately and at first, just lets it be since he doesn’t want to pry. Eventually though, when he and Luke get a moment alone, Lando makes a comment about how great you are to gage the jedi’s reaction and how willing he is to talk about it. He strikes me as a great listener and is very validating to all Luke’s feelings and concerns, but gently reminds him that someone like you won’t be single forever and does he really want to live with that regret of watching you get with someone else when he was never brave enough to really make a move? After this conversation, he immediately goes to Leia ready to make the Ultimate Wingman Gameplan and is ready with his full resources, funds, and even wardrobe to make whatever needs to happen a success. He and Leia may or may not orchestrate some “oops, we’re stuck in x situation together” happenings, or invite you two to things like fancy Rebellion/New Republic gatherings where they split up and help the two of you get ready in ways that wow the other, etc.

Once Chewie (platonic) realizes you’re not a threat to one of his closest friends, the two of you become his OTP. He has a sneaking suspicion, but is usually busy with Han and/or fixing yet another part of the Falcon that broke, so isn’t around as much to collect evidence and the others have to fill him in. Not many people can understand his language, so there’s not really a risk of him spilling the beans. But he’s 100% doing little things here and there to meddle, like pulling you both into a giant group hug and squishing you together, pitching the Falcon while he pilots so you fall backwards into Luke’s lap, bumping into one of you so you’re now standing or sitting close together, physically pushing Luke towards you with a grumble in Shyriiwook, etc.

R2 has to be the one to explain what’s going on to C-3PO (platonic). At first, the protocol droid goes, “wait, what do you mean?” But once he figures it out, everyone has to reach to cover his mouth as he starts to cry in the middle of the busy hangar, “oh my goodness! That’s wonderful to hear that Master Luke fancies mph-hmmphh-umph-mmmm!” To be honest, no one really wanted to tell him in the first place because he’s so bad at keeping his mouth shut, but 3PO overheard some comment someone else was making and just wouldn’t stop asking questions. Cue everyone constantly covering 3PO’s mouth until you and Luke get together, as he almost makes comments and spills the secret many times – and sometimes, they just shut him off mid-sentence. He’s not allowed to be alone with you again until after the two of you get together, but when it’s just him and R2, he’s constantly raving about how he’d love for his master to be happy and how he’s using this to study what two humans who are interested in each other romantically do. Of course, he’s been programmed to know about it, but seeing it in real time is fascinating to him and is where the majority of his comments that almost get him in trouble come from.

R2-D2 (platonic), like Chewie, can’t really rat Luke out verbally – but also follows the Wookiee’s example and meddles to get you two closer faster. He even stole Chewie’s methods of bumping into one of you from behind to get you stumbling into each other’s arms and pitching the ship so Luke has to catch you before you fall. When he’s really feeling like a little shit, he’s been known to lock the two of you in tight spaces together for an extended period of time. When one of you gets injured or needs help, he always immediately rushes to find the other, even if there are other people close by who could help – and sometimes even blows things a little out of proportion just to get you two alone together. Like he’ll rush to tell Luke you’re trying to get something up from a high shelf and are about to fall and Luke runs in to find your footstool the tiniest bit wobbly, but otherwise stable while you’re not even that far off the ground.

Taglist: @kaleidoscope1967eyes @masterlukessaber @coffeeorsomething-irl @eveningserenityyy @victorian-nymph @lxstfathier @rogue-kenobi @lavandula-ipsum @sonofthedunes @pomplalamoose @lex-the-flex @ilovemarkhamill

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

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Cabur

Summary: Twelve years ago the animal representing your soulmate appeared in your home. You finally get to meet him when his battalion arrives to help defend your planet from the droid army.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, injuries, brief mention of animal injury but it's not serious, a bit of angst, reader is a BAMF but it doesn't really get shown cause I'm garbage at action scenes, some mentioned PTSD at the end.

A/N: Sooooo this may be my sign to stick to only writing for the Bad Batch boys cause this is garbage. Turns out I'm not good at writing other clones. Also I wrote the smut before eating breakfast so if it's entirely indecipherable please forgive me.

Also Mide is pronounced Mee-deh.

MASTERLIST

It’s become a sort of legend within the GAR.

The clone who rides into battle on the back of a Nexu.

It’s a bit ridiculous. He doesn’t ride the Nexu. But, they are never far from each other.

No one ever dares to ask.

Most of them already know.

The others are too scared.

The only one that had asked was the General, which was forgiven since he probably didn’t expect his second in command to be closely trailed by a Nexu when they met for the first time.

His soulmate link, Wolffe had explained to his General. One of the rarest, where each soulmate is accompanied by the animal that represents their soulmate. The Kaminoans had been rather shocked when shortly after he was taken from his growth chamber, a fully grown Nexu appeared in the room. The feline had been entirely tame, until the Kaminoans had tried to separate them because clones were not allowed to pursue their soulmates due to some of the early clones deserting for their soulmates.

Separation hadn’t worked, as the Nexu proceeded to rampage through the halls of Tipoca City until she was reunited with Wolffe. Only Wolffe could seem to control her, and so the Kaminoans begrudgingly allowed the Nexu to stay.

She learned quickly, coming to Wolffe’s defense even during training. It didn’t take long for Wolffe to teach her how to fight, and how to take down droids. She never hesitated, even after the war started, fearlessly following him into even the ugliest battles.

He had spent much of his free time thinking about his soulmate. They’re obviously a fierce fighter, given the predatory nature of Nexu. Strong and brave. He often wondered what kind of animal they have that represents him.

***

The last thing you had been expecting twelve years ago was a loth-wolf pup to show up in the middle of your home.

It had appeared out of nowhere, startling both you and your parents. You hadn’t known what it was at first, until a quick search had directed you to the supposedly extinct loth-wolf. Why it had appeared suddenly in your home...that was another quick search.

Your soulmate link.

You had always wondered what it might be, seeing as you had no mark or strange dreams, or any of the other typical links between soulmates. Developing this late, though, was confusing. You didn’t think much about it, though. Fate was not something to question. Everything would make sense eventually. Your people believed that fate drove every decision, every event in your life. Everything happens for a reason, all directed by fate’s design.

Already twice the size of a tooka, the pup grew quickly, outgrowing your parents hut. It grew big enough to ride within a couple years and you often did. When you moved into your own hut, you built it big enough to fit you and your wolf comfortably.

You often wondered about your soulmate. Who they are, what they’re doing, what kind of animal they have. You wonder how you’ll meet. Will they come here? Your people don’t leave your planet often. Aside from the few who show great prowess for politics and get sent to represent you in the senate, not many else leave. Your people prefer simple, quiet lives. Though you have technology, most of your food is grown or hunted, and your medicine is a practice that’s been passed down for generations.

You had thought perhaps you were meant to leave, that you would meet your soulmate somewhere else. Your strength, however, was not in politics. You were a natural fighter. So instead you stayed on the planet, defending your village and hunting to provide food. Maybe you weren’t meant to find your soulmate elsewhere. Perhaps your soulmate was in one of the other villages.

You think that, until the war starts.

Your planet is mostly untouched for two years. There was no strategic reasoning to invade your planet, other than simply being part of the Republic. It keeps your planet untouched, at least until the Separatists begin to get desperate.

Word reaches you one morning of a droid army approaching one of the neighboring villages. It had landed two days ago and it was slowly burning its way through village after village. They had already reached out to the Republic for assistance, but they were already stretched as it was.

You don’t give up hope.

You’re right not to.

Two days after the message had been sent, they arrived. The roar of gunships is loud as troops drop in at the next village over from yours. You were already there, preparing defenses for when the inevitable attack began. They’d already burned through the village to the North. You had scouted over the hill earlier, and had spotted the dust cloud kicked up by the army’s movements. Fighters from surrounding villages have gathered, but it’s not nearly enough.

The clones arrive like a blessing from the Maker.

You’re glad to see them, even if some of them stare and whisper as you pass. You know they’re not staring at you. They’re staring at your wolf. Loth-wolves are supposed to be extinct, so actually seeing one would be a bit shocking. Even more so, seeing one outside of Lothal.

You had been called to the village leader’s hut, which was being used for battle planning. The village leader had chosen you as her second in command, since you were one of the best fighters. You were also one of the few still alive that had seen battle before.

Not every village on the planet was as interested in peace as the others. One such village had decided to attack a neighboring village out of nothing but greed shortly before the galactic war started. Fighters from across the planet had been called to aid in the fight, and you had been one of them. The most battle you’d seen back then had been on hunting trips. Though you were skilled, you’d never actually fought before.

It had been terrifying, but you had quickly proved your skills and your ability to stay calm under pressure. You had made a name for yourself, and had carried that still to this day.

Most of the more experienced fighters had been sent ahead to try and aid other villages, but it had been fruitless. The droid army had wiped out both the fighters, and some innocent villagers caught in the crossfire.

This village had been evacuated, and it was going to be the last stand against the droid army. If they couldn’t be defeated, then the planet was lost. The arrival of the clones to aid you had renewed hope in the possibility of securing your planet and its safety once more. There would be a lot to do, a lot to rebuild after, but now there was hope you would get to do so.

You make your way towards the hut, your wolf running ahead. It’s strange, usually he never left your side unless you told him to. He had been acting strangely all day. You had blamed it on the nervous energy in the village, and the approaching army. Everyone had been a bit on edge, and being an animal, he could likely pick up on it more than anyone.

You hear a commotion as you approach the hut, finding your wolf cornering one of the clones. Your eyes widen, thinking the worst, and you hurry over. Some of the clones are laughing by the time you reach them, and you realize your wolf is licking this clone.

��Mide,” You pull on the fur at his neck to try and get him to stop. His tail is wagging, creating a breeze behind him. “Mide, stop.”

The hair at the back of your neck stands straight, a loud growl reaching your ears. You turn, eyes widening as you stare into four red eyes and a wide mouth full of sharp fangs.

You scramble back, the Nexu following you. You’ve never seen one in person before, only read about them. They’re not native to this planet, so how did this one get here? And why doesn’t anyone else seem afraid of it?

“Cabur.” The stern voice of the clone reaches your ears. “Cabur, stand down.”

The Nexu doesn’t respond, crouching as it prepares to pounce. Do you run? You can’t outrun a Nexu. Why isn’t anyone trying to help? Why isn’t Mide helping?

The Nexu pounces, knocking you off your feet. You close your eyes, preparing for those teeth to sink into your skin, rip away at your flesh until you bleed out.

Something wet and rough drags across your skin from your shoulder to the top of your head. Your eyes snap open in surprise. Is the Nexu...licking you?

It licks you again, leaving a wet, gooey trail along your skin.

“Easy, girl.” The clone pets its head, trying to nudge it back.

It steps back reluctantly, its own tail swishing back and forth as it watches you. A hand appears in your line of sight and you take it, the clone hauling you to your feet easily. You brush the dirt off, wiping the Nexu spit from your face.

“Sorry about her.” The clone says. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her today.”

“It’s alright. Mide has been weird all day too. He’s never run away from me like that before.” You stare up at him, taking in his face.

His face is stern, pinched a bit in focus. There’s a scar stretching from his forehead to his cheek, his eye having been replaced with a cybernetic one. He’s handsome, as you assume all the clones would be.

“Is she yours?” You ask, breaking the silence between you.

“It’s my soulmate link.” He says. “I’ve had her since I came out of my growth chamber.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking in surprise. “Mide’s also my soulmate link. Appeared about twelve years ago.”

“Really.” He says, giving you a strange look.

Before you can continue the conversation, the village leader and who you assume is the Jedi General approach you.

“I see you two have already met.” The Kel Dor says.

You glance at the clone for a moment as the village leader introduces you to General Plo Koon and Commander Wolffe.

“Come,” The General says. “We have much to discuss, and little time to do so.”

***

“What’s her name?” You ask as you and Commander Wolffe make your way into position. His Nexu is walking beside you, trotting along happily. Mide is walking beside Wolffe, looking perfectly content.

“Cabur.” Wolffe answers. “It’s Mando’a. It means guardian or protector.”

“Fitting name.” You say.

“She’s saved my life a few times.” He pats Mide’s side. “What about him?”

“Mide. He’s a mythical warrior who protected our people. He rode to war with the sigil of a wolf on his helmet.”

The corner of Wolffe’s mouth lifts. “Aptly named.”

You both stop, having reached the point you have to go separate ways. You mount Mide, looking down at Wolffe. “See you when the battle’s done?”

Wolffe nods, patting Mide’s neck. “Take care of her.”

Mide huffs out a breath, nodding his head just slightly as if agreeing. He would, even without having to be asked.

You know. Even without having to say anything you know. Just Mide’s reaction was enough to tell you. The link is so rare, and to have someone else with the same link suddenly appear on your planet like this...

It’s not just a coincidence.

Mide runs to your position, and you watch as the cloud of dust that the droid army was kicking up gets closer and closer, flashes of blue and red gradually disappearing as dust envelops the valley.

***

You’re covered in dirt, but you’re alive.

With the help of the clones, you had stopped the droid army from advancing much further, protecting the village. It had been a long battle, lasting into the night. The stars are out by the time you return to the village, weary after a long battle unlike any you’ve ever been in.

No squabble between villages will ever compare to that.

You had seen Wolffe shortly after your return to the village, nothing more than a passing glance across the fire as you’d helped both injured villagers and troopers. You’re both alive, you’re both alright. You had spotted Cabur slinking around the village, unharmed due to her training in fighting droids. Mide’s white fur is streaked with dirt, his feet and nose scratched from the droids, but he’s otherwise uninjured.

You’ll give him a big, juicy cut of meat later.

You’re cleaning the cut on his nose when you hear the footsteps approaching. Mide’s head lifts, ears perking and tail wagging as he sees who it is. Something brushes against your side, Cabur purring as she makes herself comfortable next to Mide. Wolffe approaches you, and you take a moment to look him over. His armor is streaked with dirt, but he’s otherwise uninjured.

“Good to see you.” You say, smiling softly.

He steps right up to you, gloved fingers grazing over the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“It’s just a scratch.” You say, skin tingling as his fingers continue to trail down your arm before dropping back to his side. “We’re not used to fighting droids.”

“You’re, uh...quite the fighter.” He says. “I think a Nexu was the perfect choice.”

Your cheeks warm a bit. You think the ferocious Nexu might be a bit of an exaggeration. It’s a compliment, though, that he thinks your skills are worthy of that representation. The loth-wolf is the perfect representation of him. He has the same dangerous gaze as Mide, the same fierce loyalty. The stern and serious battle-ready commander.

“Us clones...it’s forbidden for us to initiate the soulmate bond.” He says.

Your stomach clenches a bit at his words. You hadn’t even thought...you hadn’t even considered. You hadn’t had time to. Everything had been happening so quickly. You had never given consideration to the idea that your soulmate might not want you. Much less that he might have to reject you. All those daydreams, all those thoughts about what your life could be like with them...they’ve been nothing but fantasies and they might never be anything but.

“Most of us don’t agree.” He continues. “We all have an agreement not to say anything, not to report anything.”

“But...what if someone finds out?”

“We have to be careful so no one does.” He takes your hand, slipping something into it. “We’re preparing to leave. We already have our next orders.”

Your shoulders sink a bit. Of course they’re very busy. The war has been taking a turn. The attack against your planet is just proof of this. Having time with him right now is just another fantasy.

You walk with him to the gunships, taking your time as troopers load up around you. He turns, patting Mide on the nose as you reach one of the ships. Mide lets out a quiet whine, his ears falling.

You squat in front of Cabur, petting her head. “Take care of him, yeah?” She lets out a quiet sound, licking your cheek once more. You stand back up, facing Wolffe. “Come back? When the war’s over?”

He nods once and you stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek. He stares down at you long and hard for a moment before stepping away, sliding his helmet on. You watch as he boards the gunship, following it with your eyes as long as you can as it disappears into the sky.

You open your hand, looking down at what he’d slipped into it. A smile tugs at your lips as you stare at the item.

A comm device.

***

It’s been almost a year since the battle, since you met your soulmate. You’ve spoken as often as you can through the comm device, but for the last three months it’s been very quiet. You’ve gone stretches without speaking, but never this long.

You try not to worry.

The war had ended three months ago, around the time you had seemingly lost contact. You suppose with the restructuring of the Republic into the Empire and the sudden end to the war, things have gotten complicated for the clones. It could just be he hasn’t had a good time to step aside and secretly contact you. Despite your attempted reasoning, you can’t help but feel nervous about the sudden silence.

You’ve been keeping yourself busy helping the survivors from the destroyed villages resettle with other villages. While the army had been destroyed, the valley had become a wasteland of destroyed droids and the remnants from the battle. New huts were built and families integrated peacefully into new villages. The Senate had sent some relief, but it could only do so much. Homes could be rebuilt and crops replanted, but lives couldn’t be replaced.

You’ve buried far too many dead.

You try not to think your soulmate may be one of them.

He’s not. You know he’s not. You would have felt it. Mide would have died with him. Still, the thought haunts you. How easily he could be taken from you, and you barely got to know him.

Fate will make it work in the end. You try to remind yourself of that.

***

You’re out hunting when it happens.

Nearly four months since the end of the war, a year since you met your soulmate. You had been scouting the hills when you’d heard it. You’d moved your binocs to the sky, watching as a starfighter streaked across the sky like a smoking comet straight towards the trees just a few meters away.

The crash is loud, the trees shaking with the impact. Mide immediately takes off, darting into the trees. It’s not like him, still always sticking close to your side.

“Mide!” You call, immediately running after him.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. It couldn’t be...could it? You hadn’t seen any identifying markers on the ship, the smoke too dense around it to see. It could be anyone, or anything.

If it wasn’t, Mide wouldn’t have run off like that.

You duck into the undergrowth, following the path broken by your wolf. You freeze instinctively as a low growl reaches your ears. You know that growl.

Your breath catches in your throat. “Cabur?”

The Nexu steps out of the bushes, tail swishing as she looks at you. It’s her. You know it. You drop to a knee, patting her head as she greets you.

It’s him. It’s really him.

Mide breaks through the bushes, dragging a limp body with his teeth. He drags the body over to you, letting him go gently. Wolffe’s body lays limp on the ground. There’s charred marks on his armor, likely from the crash. You push him over onto his back, staring down at his helmet. You trace the markings with your fingers, the same markings you remember.

A sob threatens to tear from your lips as you slip your fingers under the edge of his helmet, tugging it off. You cup the back of his head, lowering it gently to the ground.

He’s unconscious but still breathing.

Mide lays next to Wolffe, looking at you sadly. Cabur nudges his foot, letting out a quiet whine. He’s injured, likely worse than it looks if he crashed a starfighter. You need to get him back to the village, and soon.

You’re sweating by the time you maneuver him onto Mide’s back, climbing on behind him. You hold him as Mide runs through the trees and back up the hill towards the village. Cabur keeps pace easily, miraculously mostly uninjured from the crash.

You guide Mide into your hut, easing Wolffe off his back and onto your bed. You begin the tedious process of removing his armor, figuring out how to get each piece off and carefully stacking it in the corner. You peel the body glove off next, revealing his chest covered in bruises.

You head to your kitchen, grabbing herbs and a bowl, beginning to mash them into a paste as you’ve done a hundred times. You mix a tonic as well, moving back to his side before spreading the mixture across his chest, making sure to cover each bruise. You place bandages over each spot, letting the herbs do their work. You cup his neck, lifting his head a bit to help him drink the tonic. You can feel it, the pulsing energy from where your fingers are pressed against the skin of his neck.

He’s really here, right in front of you. Crashed right out of the sky, practically into your lap.

Mide curls up on his blanket, Cabur making herself comfortable beside him. You sit by Wolffe’s side, tending to him as you let the medicine work its way through his body. You only leave to make dinner and feed the animals before you’re sitting back at his side.

You grab his pauldron, tracing the image of the wolf with your fingers. The grey paint around the edges is slightly worn, more than it had been the last time you’d seen him. It’s hard to believe he’s really here. After four months of nothing, no sign that he’s alive and alright, no word on what’s happening aside from what was broadcasted on the news...four months of thinking the worst.

You trace his face with your fingers, allowing yourself to feel him. He’s really here. He’s real.

You stay by his side through the night, changing out the herbs as they dry. You nap a few times, trusting the animals to alert you if something happens.

He begins to stir around sunrise. You’d been checking his wounds, already mostly healed. You put a gentle hand on his shoulder as he shifts, his eyes cracking open.

“It’s alright.” You say, tracing gentle circles on his skin with your thumb. “You’re safe.”

He breathes your name like a prayer, his eyes slipping closed for a moment as he relaxes.

“I’m here.” You whisper, sliding your hand up to cup his cheek. “I’ve got you.”

“I said I would.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I said I’d come back.”

You shush him gently. “And you have.”

You get him sitting up, leaning against the wall. You feed him some soup after both Mide and Cabur greet him happily. He tells you about everything that happened since the war ended. He tells you about the Jedi and the inhibitor chips, deserting the Empire and getting his chip removed. He tells you about his fight to get here, and almost not making it.

You try not to think about it, relishing in the face he did make it. He is sitting here with you. You can see the pain in his eyes, the guilt. You can practically feel the sadness radiating from him. Your heart aches for him. He’s lost so much, and so much has changed so quickly. You can’t even imagine what it must have been like. What it must feel like for him.

You hold him, wrapping yourself around him. His bruises are almost completely healed, his strength returning as he holds you, his face pressed against your chest. Cabur creeps her way over, stretching herself out across your laps. Wolffe chuckles, patting her head. You tangle a hand on her fur, holding Wolffe with the other.

***

Wolffe settles into life in the village easily. He’s welcomed, not only as your soulmate, but also as a hero who helped save many lives. He accompanies you on hunts, learning as much about your culture as he can.

You settle into life with him easily too, adjusting to his presence like he’s been there the whole time. You’re glad your hut is on the edge of the village, as you’re both also rather insatiable. You have a year to make up for. A year of yearning and longing to make up for.

And you certainly do.

A body presses against yours as you finish loading the dishes in the sanitizer. You can feel him, every bit of his body through his thin shirt and soft pants. He’s softened a bit from the hardened soldier that had crash landed back into your life. You won’t complain. After the things you’ve heard, you’re happy he’s finally healthy and well taken care of.

You can also feel how hard he is against your ass.

His arms snake around your waist as you toss the dish towel on the counter. His lips trail up your neck, dragging along the soft skin.

“Miss me that much?” You ask, pressing back against him teasingly.

“Always.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss below your ear.

One of his hands snakes under your shirt, slowly sliding up your stomach, straight towards your breasts. You’re glad you ditched your breastband earlier as his warm hand cups your breast. He hums against your neck in approval, skilled fingers plucking at your nipple as he paints your skin with marks from his teeth.

“Wolffe,” You sigh his name as he switches breasts, giving the other one equal attention.

His other hand slips down your stomach, dipping into your pants. You’ve been wet in anticipation since his arms wrapped around you, his fingers gliding through your slick folds. Your legs tremble as he slowly circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers.

“So wet for me, cyare.” He murmurs against your neck, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Yes,” You breathe, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Only for you.”

He growls quietly against your neck, pulling his hands free. He tugs your pants down before lifting you onto the kitchen counter. You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor. He tugs your hips closer to the edge, kneeling in front of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, still kept in the regulation cut. He sometimes lets his stubble grow out, and you’re still trying to convince him to grow a beard just to see how it would look.

He licks a stripe up your clit, hands pressing against your thighs to keep them open for him. His tongue swirls around your clit, his eyes lifted to stare at your face. Your lips part in a moan as he closes his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. Your free hand grips the edge of the counter, holding on as he eats you out.

Your first few times together had been awkward and fumbling as you tried to figure each other out. It had taken lots of practice, and many laughs, to learn each other’s bodies. What you like, what you don’t, what he likes. How to make him putty in your hands. He’s still just as stern and dominating as he had been as a commander, but you know deep down he sometimes needs someone else to take control, someone else to give the orders. Someone he trusts.

Your legs are shaking around his head, your own head thrown back in pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The noises are absolutely obscene as he slurps at your drenched pussy like he’s gone days without water.

He pulls away before you can cum, making you whine in protest.

His chin is slick with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You reach forward, yanking his shirt over his head. Your fingers trail along the soft curves of his body, lips pressing kisses against his skin. His hands undo his pants, letting them drop to the floor.

You bite your lip, your hand wrapping around his hard length. His hands drop to your thighs, resting there as you pump him. You meet his gaze, staring into his eyes as you guide him forward and into your heat. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him all the way in. A moan tumbles from your lips at the stretch, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him as close as you possibly can.

His arms wrap around your back, lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You both breathe for a moment, enjoying being so close, so connected to each other. You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Musky and sweaty from being out in the warmth of the day working.

He adjusts his grip on you, holding you up as he begins to move. You meet his thrusts, tilting your head up to kiss him. It’s slow and soft, quiet moans passing between your lips. You hold onto him like you’re afraid he might disappear if you let go, like you might suddenly wake and find this has all been a dream.

His own fingers indent your skin, sharing your same fears. You know he’s here, you know it’s real, and he knows it’s real, but still, neither of you can forget the year you had been separated, the many times he could have died, the many times he could have been ripped from you.

“‘M close.” You murmur against his lips, nails breaking the skin of his shoulders.

“Gonna cum for me?” He growls, snapping his hips into yours. “Show me how pretty you look when you cum?”

Your head falls back, lips parted as you cum around his cock, moaning loudly. He watches you, memorizing your face. He’ll never forget it, but he commits it to memory every time.

A few more thrusts and he’s cumming with a growl, snapping his hips into yours a final time as he releases inside of you. You hold him against you, both of you riding out your highs together.

His hold around you is tight, clinging to you. You’re both breathing heavily, breaths mingling as he presses his forehead against yours. Your hands gently rub his shoulders, working your way up his neck and into his hair.

“You’re right here.” You whisper, lips brushing his. “I’m right here.”

He exhales shakily, fingers tightening their grip just slightly.

You press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ve got you.”

@stressed-cherry, @6oceansofmoons, @ladytano420 @spicy-clones, @dangraccoon, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @stunkbiggu

#star wars #star wars fic #clone wars #clone wars fic #commander wolffe x reader #clones #clone trooper wolffe x reader

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absolutebl · 4 months

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This Week in BL - I'm Late, I know

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting 2 weeks I guess? Bah.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 13fin - I wasn't impressed by the last ep at all. Trash watch happened here.

My final thoughts:

Based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing omegaverse. Thailand brought us the world's first omegaverse BL but then failed to lean into the courage of its a/b/o convictions by not emphasizing the difference between our world & theirs, adding & subtracting characters & allegiances + a weak ending. With earnest performances, enthusiastic sex scenes, a fantastic side couple, and some delightful scenery chewing - the actors tried… poor things. It's just the story failed both them and their parent genre. Frankly? I just wanted it to be more outrageous and trashy, since I never expected it to be good. Instead, it was just… meh. 7/10

(Imma remind all the newbies that this is not unprecedented from me with hugely popular BL.)

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - I like it but there’s a high % of this show that doesn’t interest me. Anything to do with the side couple, or the friend group, or the cooking competition drives me into a comatose state of UGH. That means that in this episode, I paid attention to about 5 minutes worth.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - I'm ready for this to be done. I think they were trying to be this year's Big Dragon, but they just aren't good enough. I really didn’t need a third couple.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - I'm warming up to FueangKrom a bit. It’s cute. I am finding the pacing interesting. That pacing might be bad, but right now it’s simply different.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 5-6 of 8 - I still love this show a lot, but this 2 ep installment felt a little disjointed. I’m not sure if that’s the narrative structure or the subs. The captions are shockingly bad for a KBL and I don’t have enough Korean to make up for their clear failings.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Oh the return of the manic pixie dream ex. This is all very high school drama for purportedly grown-up adults. But them both being jealous and then kissing was sweet.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - They remain adorable and the sunshine robot is very sweet. But it is a little slow.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I prefer the episodes when we get more of them onscreen together. But this was fine.

Happy Ending (Korea Tues YT) 3fin - The ending disappointed me (are you surprised?). What can I say, not Strongberry's best as far as I’m concerned. High school besties that many could be sweethearts. I don’t like an ending that’s left up in the air. 6/10

It's Done but...

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

It's Airing But...

[NO INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 12 eps - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes. It finished, is it worth it?

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) 12 eps - finished, horror, supposed to be very philosophical, I think I'll give it a go.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Up

2/16 My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) - not quite sure how much BL this one is, because... Japan, but we shall see.

2/17 A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year head hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through many girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance. Unless this is really good I probably won't I hate the WeTV interface...

Still Coming in Feb

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy criminal breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

We gotta talk about LFLS this week. Look at Korea go!

Talking about a dead fish kiss, how meta! This will end up on one of my best of the year moments. I could not have been more gobsmacked.

Also something rarely directly addressed, particularly for same-sex firsts.

And then, a claiming trope, a personal favorite of mine.

Thank you Korea!

I just love them. (Pit Babe)

(Last week)

#pit babe the series #pit babe review #alanjeff #cooking crush #thai bl #love for love's sake #kbl #korean bl #Perfect Propose #Although I Love You and You #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka #japanese bl #AntiReset #Taiwanese bl #cherry magic thailand

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f1crecs · 3 months

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Fic Rec List - Sex Worker AUs

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

Lando/Oscar

nsfw: dancing on quicksand by @tearstrung | E | 3.3k Lando is outrageous, and Oscar struggles to understand what's a joke and what isn't - until he sees a link on Twitter. This fic is red hot, very funny, and perfectly characterised! Oscar's special brand of bamboozlement is especially wonderful here, as he comes to terms with Lando's job on the side. The ending is like a beautiful punch to the gut. Love it!

'Though, the guy’s skin is similar in color to Lando’s—olivey, the natural tan Lando wears year-round, even if he’s barely been in the sun with his shirt off. The same big hands, which don’t really match up with his small stature, rippled with lithe muscle; followed by a wide ribcage that slips down into a tiny, tapered waist. Nipples, shades darker and always hard from what Oscar can see from a long scroll. At the tips of the guy’s fingers, Oscar notices leftover chew marks, the skin pulled back, nails bitten short into nubs.'

Carlos/Lando

nsfw: when the time comes by @venerat | E | 7.6k Lando asks his friend Carlos, an escort, to arrange an appointment with another male escort for him. Lando has never been with a man and wants to have the experience. When Pierre falls ill and has to cancel, Carlos decides to go in his stead. Only one problem, though - Carlos is in love with Lando. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? This situation could have been awkward but Lando is nothing but sweet and kind with Carlos. The encounter results in a lot of revelations for them both, and although they seem to start the next phase of their relationship a bit backwards, they clearly have a future together.

Time doesn’t seem to be very real. Carlos thinks. He thought it would be different than this, that’s all. Different from the way it’s—happening. Because the way it’s happening feels like sex. Real sex. It doesn’t feel like work. It doesn’t feel like a transaction. It feels like—trite; cliche, of course, but—it feels like passion.

Charles/Pierre

nsfw: pièce de résistance by @capsize (copenhagenborn) | E | 14.5k Pierre, a sex worker, is approached one night by the assistant of someone calling himself Marc. Marc, it turns out, is really Prince Charles of Monaco and is looking for an arrangement. This is quite low-angst for a royalty AU (don't get me wrong, I love my angst) but this fic just has them slot together so easily. Pierre is rather happy as a sex worker, which is actually a nice change when it comes to sex work fic. The relationship side of things is slow burn and even the inevitable miscommunication part of the story is done so well I enjoyed it.

'Pierre does spend the night. He sends Charles a picture of his gateau marcel and soaks in the tub as he finishes the bottle of wine they were supposed to share. The house is predictably a mess when he gets home: George is crying on the couch with his eyes glued to the television, a small Union Jack pulled from somewhere and now proudly displayed in front of him. Alex is sitting by his feet, badly hiding his laughter as he scrolls through what Pierre can only imagine being memes. Lando is passed out in the corner, a bottle of vodka close to his hand, while Oscar stares at him with an oddly closed-off look in his eyes. Pierre isn’t quite up to date on the current geopolitical relationship between Australia and the rest of the commonwealth. Pierre sits down next to Max at the dining table, sips his water and goes, “What does it mean if someone has to be summoned after the death of dear old Lizzy?”'

nsfw: cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 88.5k Pierre, retired from racing after a career-ending injury, is closer to 40 than 30 now and has reinvented himself as a designer. He's also venturing out of the closet. He is put in touch with Charles, who gets by as a sugar baby, and decides this is a perfect way to get some experience dating another man. Pierre finds himself developing feelings for Charles. I'm at a point now with @wolfiemcwolferson fic where I just gesture wildly at whatever they've written and make vague noises but in the interests of trying to sound like the sane person I pretend to be, this fic is a perfect distillation of the Pierre/Charles relationship. What if they didn't meet until later in life? What if Charles never went beyond karting? What if the age gap was larger? All of these, and yet, it's still them. There is a "soulmates in ever universe" theme in the Piarles fandom and this story absolutely embodies it.

'He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped. Pierre considers all the time he touched other people’s hands while wearing leather gloves. “I hope I am not late,” Charles smiles at him still. “I missed my train and I -” “Charles,” Pierre says, realizing that Charles seems a bit nervous - a bit ruffled. “I only just arrived. “Come and let’s go inside. We can get warm.” His smile makes his perfect face less so - a mere mortal instead of the god he is and Pierre gets it immediately.'

Charles/Sebastian

nsfw: Be Snoozing That Lust In The Morning by @sebchalex & @meova101 | E | 14.5k When Formula 1 decides to clean up their sponsors, teams are left scrambling to find money. Ferrari finds an unconventional way to get more budget – Charles starts an OnlyFans. The initial premise of Charles having to get an OnlyFans to help Ferrari is just unhinged enough that it could be real – but this fic has a lot more to offer than just comedy. The way it follows Charles personal growth from not believing he could actually make money of OF, being embarrassed when Seb subscribes, to them working together to produce record breaking content and falling for eachother in between – its like a modern day fairytale, if Cinderella had to sell nudes to help the evil stepmom with money.

"This was the only way," Charles says. "I know this could tarnish the Ferrari legacy and everything, but I want to help my team. I will do anything to make them stay on top." Once he finishes his sentence, he looks straight at Sebastian. It's already disgraceful enough that he had to do this in the first place, but this type of rejection coming from Sebastian is making him feel worse. Finally, Sebastian raises his hands in a yielding gesture. "Fine," he says, sending a breath of relief through Charles. "I still have a problem with it." "Seb, I know. I wish there was another way as well, but—" "It's not about that," Sebastian says, looking even more pissed. "Have you realised that your pictures are terrible?" Well. Charles certainly hadn’t expected that. "What?" "Charles, if you are charging that much in the first place, then you should at least put in a little bit more effort," Sebastian explains, extending his hands out. "Your lighting was horrible, and it was blurry. Why did no one offer help?"

nsfw: With you I'm in real danger by @jean----ralphio | E | 55.5k Charles, a well-known porn actor, shelters from a mob of fans by hiding in a rare books shop. The bookseller recognises him but is too considerate to say anything about it. Charles notices and they strike up a friendship, and more. Charles and Seb are from such very different worlds. Charles is accustomed to sometimes being judged for his line of work but Seb treats him with utmost respect at all times, which should be a low bar but isn't. Things get a bit rocky for them in true romance story fashion, but all is well by the end.

Sebastian feels himself go bright red, as Charles’ mischievous smile turns gleeful. “I can tell the instant I meet someone whether they know who I am or not,” he explains. “So I knew right away that you know of me.” “Ah. Sorry.” Sebastian feels foolish, guilt settling over him for not having been honest about it from the beginning.

Pierre/Yuki

nsfw: your mouth makes me reconsider where my heart lies by @yukierres | E | 10.4k Pierre, still an F1 driver, discovers a streamer who plays video games while using sex toys and is immediately fascinated (and hugely turned on). He lavishes gifts and money on the man on his screen, and finds himself falling in love with someone he hasn't even met. The guys are so well characterised. Yuki is unashamed, he loves what he does, is brilliant at it and gets well paid for it too. You can see why Pierre couldn't resist. Pierre is confused and ashamed as hell to begin with (that darned Catholic guilt again) but can't stay away. The author grows the relationship to a point where it seems inevitable that Yuki will one day feel comfortable enough meeting Pierre in real life.

"That was -" Pierre says around breaths, a laugh in his voice, disbelief in what has just happened. Yuki himself has flopped back on the bed, laptop now beside him as he lies against the pillows. His eyes are wet and pink looking, a content sheen in them. "That was something else." A pleased cat-like expression forms on his mouth. "You enjoyed that Pierre?" He says with a blissed-out face, attempting to bat his eyes temptingly at the camera before yawning tiredly, the whole face scrunching up. It is more cute than seductive in the end, but it doesn’t matter because Pierre is head over heels either way.

Daniel/Max

nsfw: chemical highs and clear blue skies by @yekoc | E | 43.5k Daniel is a porn actor, which is where he meets newbie Max. Max, along with his cats, crash on Daniel’s couch whilst they continue to shoot various scenes together. They get to know each other and get to miscommunicate on the way to comfort. The pacing of the plot was really pleasant to read, as was the dialogue. Max is flippant but also careful and cautious at the same time. Daniel is self assured and kind and perhaps a little too trusting. Both of them keep their cards close and all of it makes for a very gratifying read.

'Max laughs, just a little bit, something that in someone else you might call a giggle. Daniel hasn’t seen him laugh before. He’s seen him come—in person, and then over and over again on video that one night, which he should probably forget about really quickly. Max laughing is oddly similar; it breaks something hard about him all to pieces.'

nsfw: Fly Fast (With Broken Wings) by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 44.2k (ongoing) Max is an escort who turned to sex work due to lack of options. Daniel is an F1 driver, and Max's first ever customer. Daniel quickly becomes obsessed with Max - but the Max that Daniel first knows is a construct - the real Max guards his feelings out of necessity and can't afford to go all in with Daniel. Daniel doesn't understand the precariousness of Max's situation, or why Max would choose to keep working and earning his own money - keeping his independence - rather than agree to become Daniel's kept man. This fic digs deeply into the power imbalance and dubious consent issues of sex work, the necessary artifice of it and the need for emotional armour and distance on the part of the worker. Daniel, sadly, proves Max right with some of his behaviour - he can be selfish and spoiled, and sometimes outright cruel. There is love on both sides, but this relationship is a minefield they each misstep in more than once.

'“You think you are saving me, but it will be someone else. And maybe they will not be so nice.” Emilian says, and oh fuck, his voice is cracking a little at the end and Daniel can’t stand it. Because Daniel knows. He knows the types of clients, can imagine them, the ones that would pay extortionate amounts of money for Emilian. He feels sick hearing Emilian’s voice shake a little, wonders how nervous Emilian has been for this. What he was expecting, who he was expecting. When the agency told him that he was meeting someone who’d pay extra for him. If Emilian had built it all up in his head what he’d be asked to do. And then to say he’d been hopeful that it had been Daniel. Shit.'

Daniel/Lando

nsfw: asunder, asunder by @ladyeggplant | E | 53.3k Lando is very socially awkward, highly intelligent and cashed up. He decides the best way to lose his virginity is to hire an escort. The progression of the relationship here from transactional to something more is not smooth. Lando really doesn’t have much of an understanding about how a relationship should work and makes a few big missteps, especially later in the story as the emotional stakes get higher. Daniel is professional and gentle as he gradually figures out exactly what Lando needs. Lando is physically inexperienced and emotionally awkward and nothing about it is easy.

Silence settles over steeping tea and half-eaten fruit, and he wishes he’d left the music on, because at least it would make this awkwardness bearable. He’s had super wealthy clients before, but none of them this young, and none of them this achingly insecure where it was practically bleeding out of them. Everyone who has ever booked him as wanted him there, obviously—it feels like Lando would rather eat glass than sit in the same room as him. Daniel clears his throat. “So, first time, huh?” Lando chokes mid sip.

Carlos/Charles

In for a penny, in for a pound by @f1-stuff | M | 7k (ongoing) Charles, smarting after being unceremoniously dumped by his girlfriend, hires an escort to take as his plus one to Arthur's wedding. A dashingly handsome man turns up to the rendezvous, and they figure out Charles checked the wrong box when he was making the appointment. He's spent the money, Carlos is easy company, so he decides to roll with it. This fic is amusing and sweet. Carlos is wonderful at his job - perceptive and empathetic and kind, and is probably way ahead in understanding of Charles's sexuality than Charles is himself.

“Charles...listen,” he says, shifting slightly in his chair. He looks self-assured and confident with one leg crossed over the other, hands loosely clasped over his knee. Charles is annoyed and jealous of him all at once. “I probably shouldn’t say this, considering why you hired me. But you are trying to prove to your ex that you aren’t sad and lonely by hiring someone to pretend to be in love with you...” The man raises his brows at him. “You do see the irony, no?” Charles scoffs, shaking his head down at his lap. But he can’t deny that this guy sort of, possibly, has a point. Great, even the escort he’s paying to not make him feel so pitiful is calling him out.

Mark/Seb

nsfw: pleaser by @alltimecharlo | E | 34.6k Seb is a student struggling to make rent, and Mark is a very successful lawyer. They enter a mutually beneficial agreement. This story is fantastic - the author characterises them both beautifully, and they are the perfect balance of sweet and hot and funny. I particularly loved Sebastian's first trip to Mark's house... A gorgeous story, with lots to love.

Mark’s sitting right there. Like, directly in front of the changing room in one of the extremely comfy-looking armchairs, his eyes latching directly onto his form once it’s revealed and lingering there so heavily that Sebastian almost feels the need to hide his entirely clothed body. The older’s green eyes flick up and down his lithe frame so intensely that Seb can feel his stomach doing flips and a burning heat instilling under his skin. It only worsens when he watches Mark’s tongue dart outwards to wet at his lips.

In order to keep this list organised we have chosen to categorise it as 'Sex Worker AUs'– note that we understand that some tropes here are not always sexual in nature nor are they always categorised as sex work. We respect any and all sex workers and non sex workers alike!

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queen-haq · 26 days

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Fic: Never You, Part 9 (Polin fic)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

A03 link if that’s more your jam

Chapter 9

Shame flooded over Penelope, she felt so very embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising position. Colin, on the other hand, simply rose to his full height, consequently blocking her view of Eloise. “Give us a second, El,” he commanded. His hair was ruffled from when her fingers ran through the strands, his face flushed, waistcoat unbuttoned, but he appeared unperturbed by his own flustered appearance. If anything, he was more concerned with tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear than dealing with his angry sister. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, fixing the neckline of her dress that had been pulled low under his frantic grasp.

She quickly buttoned his vest before righting her own clothing. Wet marks from where his mouth had suckled her nipples stained her dress, and she froze for a second, horrified by the sight. What was she going to do? Under no circumstances could she return to the sitting room where others were present. They would know instantly something sordid had taken place.

As if reading her mind, he grazed her cheeks with his fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you a shawl you can use.”

“How long have you been plotting this?” Eloise demanded, approaching them. Her words were directed at Penelope, tone saturated with anger. “You couldn’t use me anymore so now you’re manipulating Colin to get to my family?”

“That is not true!” Penelope defended herself. “I’ve been keeping my distance-”

“Yes, clearly. That must be why you were in the midst of swallowing his face,” Eloise snarked.

“What Pen and I do doesn’t concern you,” Colin remarked dryly, turning to confront Eloise.

“You don’t know her like I do, brother. You have no idea what she’s capable of!”

“I know she has never spoken ill of you but that hasn’t stopped you from slandering her.”

“Don’t fall for it, Colin. Her friendliness is a disguise, underneath she’s nothing but a petty, spiteful witch!”

“And you’re not, Eloise?” Penelope fired back. Her attempts to confront Eloise face-to-face was hindered by Colin who caged her in a firm grip. “Your sudden friendship with Cressida has nothing to do with how horrible she is to me? I suppose you befriended her out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Cressida treats people the way they deserve.”

“By bullying them? No wonder the two of you are so close!”

“Are you chastising me for bullying? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for years?”

An exasperated sigh escaped Colin. “The two of you were the best of friends, sisters practically, and now you’re bickering like fools. Is this really how you choose to conduct yourselves?”

“Do not lecture me when you were tupping her right here!” Eloise hissed.

“Enough!” His voice roared across the library, taking both women by surprise.

Colin wasn’t known to raise his voice. Usually calm, unlike Anthony, he used charm to diffuse precarious situations rather than his temper. Yet he’d already revealed his anger with Penelope when he was interrogating her earlier and now it was Eloise’s turn.

“Don’t you ever speak of her like that!” The violence in his voice was potent, causing Eloise to falter back as he directed his cold, seething rage at her. “I don’t give a fuck about what happened between you and Pen or who’s at fault. Whether you reconcile or not, I do not care. But do not make the mistake of insulting Penelope in my presence again, Eloise. You will not like the consequences of that!”

Eloise swallowed audibly. “So you would rather side with an outsider than your own sister?”

“She’s not an outsider to me.” There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation as he leveled Penelope with a keen glance. “She matters more than you’ll ever know. And I will not let anyone disparage her.”

Penelope held his gaze, unable to look away.

“You must be pleased. You’ve already managed to turn him against me.”

Eloise’s pained tone snapped Penelope out of her daze, her heart squeezing with empathy. “Please, Eloise. It’s nothing like that. If we could just speak alone, I could explain to you-”

“Absolutely not,” Eloise interjected.

“I agree with El. It’s a terrible idea. I doubt the two of you can manage a civilized conversation,” Colin said in a highhanded tone, sounding much like Anthony.

“Stay out of it, Colin!” Penelope rebuked.

Eloise expressed a similar reaction. “You can not order me about. If I want to speak, I will!”

Spotting the fleeting twinkle in Colin’s eyes, it dawned on Penelope he had goaded Eloise on purpose; this outcome was exactly what he wanted. “Fine, then. I will be right outside the door. Hope you ladies can behave yourselves.” Concluding his impression of Anthony, he walked away.

They remained in place, silently eyeing each other. Seconds later, the door shut with a loud thud.

“I will not let you hurt my brother!” Eloise threatened. “If you think you can seduce Colin into marrying you, you’re wrong. It will not happen.”

“That is not what I want, Eloise! He…” Penelope swallowed the lump in her throat. “What you saw between us… I know it was wrong, I should have stopped him but I’ve loved him for so long and-”

“Love?” Eloise laughed mockingly. “You don’t even know what that is!”

“I love you, more than I love my own sisters. I miss you.”

“I do not believe you. You’re a liar!”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, but you must know I had no choice. If I hadn’t published those things the Queen would have come after you!”

Eloise shook her head. “Nothing you say can excuse what you’ve done. You’re a liar and a deceiver, that’s all you’re capable of.” Her eyes blazed with fury. “I haven’t revealed the truth about you out of respect for your family, they don’t deserve to suffer for your actions. But I will tell the Queen myself if you don’t stay away from mine. Then the whole world, and Colin, will know who you truly are!”

Penelope studied her friend, desperate to spot some form of sadness or yearning for their years long friendship. Something. Anything. But there was none, only contempt. And it finally dawned on her that their friendship had truly ended. With that realization came a swift flood of anger. “Then do it. Tell the Queen, tell everyone. Destroy me.” She approached Eloise with a slow, determined gait. “But realize that I’m not the only one you’ll be destroying. Lady Whistledown is a business. A successful, thriving one that benefits not only me but many of the working class. I employ servants, delivery boys, printing presses, coachmen. Even your friend Theo Sharpe. The extra money they earn allows them the freedom to pursue their dreams, to better their family’s lives. And you will be ending all of that.” Standing in front of Eloise, Penelope stared up at the other woman. Her gaze was direct, her voice cold. “So go ahead Eloise, do what you must. But do not be surprised when there are consequences to the choice you make. Word will eventually spread that it was you who dismantled their source of income, and they will not be happy.”

“Are you threatening me?” Eyebrow raised, Eloise stared down at Penelope with condescension. “You do take after your mother.”

Penelope sent her a stiff smile. “You would do well to remember that.”

Eloise turned around and stormed out, leaving her alone in the library again. Her brave face dissipated instantly. Feeling sick, she clutched her stomach and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths to calm herself, her heart broken. Despite telling herself for months their friendship was over, she still harbored hope that she and Eloise would reconcile one day. But seeing the disdain Eloise held for her now, Penelope realized their friendship was irrevocably broken.

She opened her eyes to find Colin standing in front of her. The queasiness turned to butterflies, and her heart started pounding in her chest. After loving him for so long, she had finally come to terms with the fact he would never feel the same about her and she had moved on from that heartbreak. Had reconciled her mind to focus on a new love, new life – only to have Colin return and throw everything into chaos. Her temper rose. How dare he? How dare he turn her life upside down again?

“I suppose we don’t have to worry about Eloise telling others about us,” Colin noted.

“She wouldn’t.”

He stalked closer. “I gather things didn’t go well with Eloise.”

“Impressive observation.”

He graced her with an amused smile. “Perhaps if I knew the cause of the rift, I could help resolve the issue.”

“Like you helped today?” she pointed out. “It’s best you stay out of it.”

“I will find out the truth. Sooner or later.”

And when he did, she had no doubt he would react the same way his sister did. Her heart grew heavy at the thought of him hating her. “I must go.” She tried to walk past him but he blocked her path, invading her personal space. He stood close, so close she had to look up at him.

His eyes were warm and intent roaming over her face, drifting down to her lips. “We need to discuss what happened last night.”

“There’s no need. I’d rather put it behind us and move on.”

The dark glint in his eyes returned. “Do you really believe I would allow that to happen?”

She peered up at him, her instincts signaling something was afoot. “When you came in earlier, you knew I would be alone.”

His fingers lightly grazed her own. “Yes.”

“But you came in anyway.”

“You were crying.”

“You kissed me on purpose.”

He leaned in, his breath humming against her skin. “We kissed, Penelope. Neither of us could resist the other.”

Her voice was a hushed whisper. “You knew my mother would send someone to look for me, didn’t you?”

He cocked his eyebrow.

“You wanted us to be caught.”

Silent, he watched her. “Yes.”

Rage flooded over her, she was so furious she could barely speak. “You have no care for my reputation, do you? It really doesn’t matter to you that you could have ruined me!” She shook her head at him with disgust. “You call yourself my friend but you’re not! You’re no better than the Cressida Cowpers of this society. You only want to humiliate me.”

She tried to push him away but he gripped her arms. Although she struggled against him, he was stronger, bracing her against his chest. “Did you leave me any choice, Penelope?” he demanded, his voice shaking with anger. “I asked you to be my wife and you turned me down. What else was I supposed to do? This was the only way to ensure you would marry me!”

“And what of my family? Or yours? Did you think about how this scandal would have affected them? Your sisters? Mine? Did you even care?”

His lips drew back in a snarl. “They would have survived. They always do. After we were married, things would have eventually returned to normal.”

She couldn’t wrap her mind around his words. “Who are you? What happened to you?” Tears glistened in her eyes. “The Colin I grew up with would never have been this selfish.”

“This is me! This is who I am now!” He gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with fiery determination. “And I will do anything to make you mine, Penelope.” His hands cupped her face, eyes boring into her. “You will never escape me.”

Fear trickled down her spine. Seeing him so desperate and passionate terrified her, because she knew it was fleeting. He didn’t love her, he only wanted to possess her. Like she was a toy. And when he was done playing with her, he would discard her and move on to someone else. No. She wouldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

"You don’t want me to be your wife. I would ruin you."

A small smile curved his lips. "Is that so?"

Her eyes lingered on him, taking in every inch of his beautiful face. Never would he look at her like this again and she wanted to commit everything about his adoring gaze to her memory.

"I'm not a virgin, Colin. I have been with someone else, known another man's intimate touch." Her voice was blank, free of any emotion. "And we both know you wouldn't want a fallen woman as a wife."

Silence hung in the air. He immediately dropped his hands from her face, like he could no longer bear to touch her. His eyes burned right through her, gleaming with anger, accusation, even betrayal.

As devastating as his response was, it wasn't a surprise. Turning around, she walked away.

#polin #bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #my fics #never you

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skyward-floored · 3 months

Text

(Comes directly after this)

“Link!”

He looks up at the shout, and watches distantly as Tune and Mask both run out from camp to meet him, relief on their faces.

“Captain, the battle ended hours ago, we couldn’t find you anywhere!” Tune says with a worried note to his voice, clasping Link’s arm, “Impa and Lana are both going nuts, we must have searched camp three times. We thought something had happened to you!”

Link feels a flicker of guilt.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, lowering his head. “I was... held up.”

He knew he should have gone back to camp immediately after getting away from Cia, but he’d found himself dragging his feet. The battle had already ended by the time she was gone, and Link had slowly wandered back to camp, running over Cia’s words, studying every bit, trying to find any hint that they were just lies meant to unsteady him.

The dragon knight Volga is your father, Link.

The words still sent a sick feeling shooting through his stomach.

“Well... where were you all this time?” Tune asks, and Mask narrows his eyes.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks sharply, and Link shakes his head, meeting Mask’s eyes to try and reassure him he’s not lying. “Oh good. That means I can do this.”

Mask whips a leg out and kicks him in the shin, making Link yelp in pain as he nearly doubles over.

“Mask! Why did you do that?!” he asks, clutching at his leg that will no doubt soon be a lovely shade of purple. How does such a small kid have so much leg strength?!

“He was worried, captain, we all were,” Tune says more sympathetically, though he’s wearing an amused grin. It fades after a minute though, and he studies Link with a calculating look, eyes darting across his face. “So what actually happened?”

Link looks between the two of them, and swallows as he releases his leg.

“Cia. She had me alone.”

Tune and Mask both freeze, any amusement on their faces turned immediately to a mix of concern and fear.

“Did she do anything?” Mask asks urgently, grabbing at his arm.

Link hesitates, and Mask’s grip tightens.

“Captain. What did she do?” Mask demands as Tune looks at him in worry, and Link closes his eyes. There’s no harm in telling them, he supposes.

“She... said she knew who my parents were,” he whispers.

Tune breathes out a quiet oh, and Mask looks at Link with a strange expression on his face, something flashing in his eyes. Tune’s hand slips down to hold Link’s hand instead of his arm, and Link finds the contact bracing.

“Did she tell you?” Tune asks in a quiet voice. “Do you know—”

“—We should have this conversation inside,” Mask says, cutting Tune off, and Link doesn’t protest when he grabs his and Tune’s hands, tugging them into camp.

Relieved voices meet them when the men catch sight of Link, obviously glad he’s alive. Someone claps him on the back so hard he nearly falls over, and Link plasters a smile on his face whenever someone calls out to him, ignoring the rock in his stomach.

All he really wants to do is curl up in his cot and be left alone.

“Captain!” a new voice calls, and Link sees a flurry of activity as both Lana and Impa run up. There’s varying levels of relief on each of their faces, and Link feels another wave of guilt hit his stomach as Sheik joins them as well.

“Are you alright?” Lana asks, out of breath as she runs up. “I thought I had sensed Cia’s magic, we’d begun to think the worst, Link! Was she here? Did you fight her?”

“Are you injured?” Impa asks, and Link gives a small shake of his head.

“...Link? Is something wrong?” Sheik asks next, studying his face with a concerned look in her eyes. Link swallows, knowing his emotions are probably all over his face and giving him away, but he’s unable to dredge up the energy to school his expression.

“He’s fine, just lost track of time coming back,” Mask quickly speaks up, and gives Link’s arm a tug. “But he’s very tired now and could use some rest, so if you’ll excuse us.”

Mask begins to tug him away, though Tune falls back and talks to the three women behind them for a minute. Link only catches a glimpse of their expressions, but Tune must have said Cia was involved if the alarm on their faces is any indication.

Tune rejoins them shortly, and they make the rest of the trek to their tent in silence. Once Link is seated on his cot and the flap is safely closed, Mask whirls on him with his hands on his hips.

“Alright. What did she say?” he demands, and Link closes his eyes.

“Don’t push him Mask, if he doesn’t want to say then he doesn’t have to,” Tune says pointedly, then looks back at Link. “...Captain?”

Link breaths out, and wearily reopens his eyes.

“It’s okay. You two can know.”

He sighs, and runs a hand down his scarf, thumbing along the embroidery along the edge. His fingers skirt the symbol in the middle, and it’s a few moments before he speaks.

“Cia... she said a lot of things. You know how she is. But before she left, she said that m-my father... he’s Volga,” he gets out, and Mask and Tune’s eyes both go huge.

There’s a beat of silence.

“The... the dragon knight?” Mask says in disbelief, and Link swallows, nodding.

Mask looks like he’s two seconds from exploding, but Tune merely sits down, looking thoughtful.

“That... actually sort of makes sense,” he says, and Mask whirls towards him.

“What?” he screeches. “What makes sense about his dad being a dragon? How does that even work?! He isn’t even human all the time, how did that— does that mean you’re like, part-dragon?!”

“Mask, stop, listen,” Tune says, giving him a light punch. “Look, the Captain never gets tired when it’s hot, and when it’s cold we can barely get him to do anything. He’s insanely good at that fire rod, and I think he and Volga have almost the same hair color, now that I think about it. Plus... he always burns our food,” he tacks on with a smile. “It’s not that crazy.”

“No I’m pretty sure it is,” Mask says flatly.

“Your dad was a tree, you have no ground to stand on in regards to craziness,” Tune says pointedly.

Mask glares. “Well your dad was a boat-king-ghost thing. And the other guy is a treasure-obsessed weirdo.”

“I’m not actually related to either of them though,” Tune points out, and Mask scoffs.

“You think I was actually related to the Deku tree? Not the point, Sailor.”

Tune rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, and Mask looks over at where Link has been quietly sitting while they talk.

His face softens a little, worry once again shimmering in his gaze. Link realizes he and Tune are both staring at him, and he breaths out again.

“Are you, uh... doing okay?” Tune asks, and Link lets out a dry chuckle.

“I don’t know. How are you even supposed to react to the news that your father is a dragon?”

“Uh... I mean I think it’s pretty neat?” Tune admits, then scratches awkwardly at his neck. “Apart from him being... evil, and having nearly killed you a few times now, of course. I know a good dragon back home who’s pretty cool.”

“Do you think you could breathe fire?” Mask asks, and Link shrugs.

“I don’t even know how I would go about doing that.”

“Maybe Volga would have some tips,” Tune says, then looks a little awkward. “Uh... I mean... when he isn’t trying to kill us all.” He puts a hand over his eyes. “...Ah geez. I’m sorry, Captain. This can’t be easy for you.”

Link looks down at his hands, idly studying his skin and all the random little scars that adorn them. There are several from various nicks in training, small grazes from weapons in battle, the odd accident as a child. None are due to burns though, except for a small patch on his left arm, right by his wrist.

Where some of Volga’s flame broke through before the Triforce of Courage shielded Link.

He breathes out again.

“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I guess so.”

Tune and Mask go silent, and nobody says anything for a moment.

Then a hand places itself in Link’s, small, but just as scarred as his own. Another joins it, tanned and rough from salty air, and Link looks at the two of them, both giving him encouraging looks.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Tune says firmly, giving Link’s hand a squeeze. “Your father’s actions and identity don’t define yours. You’re still a hero, Captain, and our friend. Half dragon or not.”

Mask nods, and Link dredges up a smile for them, even though his mind is racing with the implications of this, and his chest aches with the weight of the information, even as Tune gives his shoulder a warm squeeze.

He’s half dragon.

And his father is on the same side of the war as Cia.

#hyrule warriors #hdw au #legend of Zelda #legend of Zelda au #fic #legend of zelda fanfiction #writing from the floor #back at it again at krispy kreme #mostly I wanted to write mask because he’s funny and hasn’t been in this au much at all #he’s so goofy

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 16 days

Text

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter seven: while you were sleeping

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,1k. warnings: language, anxiety, killing (humorously). an: sorry for the long wait! i hope you enjoy~

You remember reading somewhere that most dreams windows into the subconscious. They were like tools that the mind used to bring to the fore our innermost hopes, desires and fears.

You remember thinking how unfair it seemed; that other people got to have these things buried so far away they emerged only in the clutches of deep sleep.

You didn’t dream much after moving to Seoul. Mainly because you didn’t sleep much in the first place, but partly also because your innermost hopes, desires and fears always seemed to prance around you in broad daylight, with mocking expressions that seemed to scream: Here we are! What are you going to do about it?

When you did dream, your dreams were never really dreams at all either, but they were the seasonal reruns — the omnibus of troubling memories that you could not escape no matter how far you ran.

But tonight – tonight was different.

Tonight, it seems your subconscious believed you deserving of a break – a reward for all the anguish it puts you through otherwise.

“You have to answer us honestly, okay?” Yeonjun, the idol of the literal decade, your self-proclaimed bestie and role model, says with his eyebrows and lips set in seriousness. His eyes dart between you and Kai. “I promise we won’t freak out.”

You nod resolutely and they scoot closer to you with indecipherable expressions. Raising your eyebrows, you lean toward them in intrigue. “What is it?” you whisper.

Kai looks at Yeonjun, then takes a breath. “Who do you think is more handsome?”

You blink, registering the question, before gasping in shock. You smack their shoulders playfully. “How could you ask me such a thing? It’s not right! You’re both extremely handsome, like models – princes – angels! How could I possibly choose?”

They scream and fall back into the bed, cringing in embarrassment. “That’s just too much! Way too much!” Yeonjun cries through his hands.

“Seriously, Hyung,” Kai grimaces, rubbing the chill in his arms, “how did you get drunk enough to say such disturbing things.”

Their pink, blushing faces resemble the fluffy marshmallows you enjoyed as a kid, and it makes you laugh with joy. This is the best dream you’ve ever had. You’re unsure what your subconscious is trying to tell you with it, but you know you’re going to get Dr. Kim on the phone and ask if he had changed your prescription without you knowing and then thank him for it.

“Hey,” you pout and cross your arms, glaring at Kai, “I may not be as pretty as you, but I’m still your Noona, not your Hyung. And your Noona doesn’t drink.” Kai shudders in response.

“Seriously, you have to tell us what you drank last night,” Yeonjun shakes his head in amusement. His smile falters, then he crawls into the space next to you and links his arm with yours, resting his head on your shoulder. It feels so warm and comforting and real that your heart could burst. “I know you’re disappointed about the demo, but drinking this much is dangerous. At least let us come with you next time.”

You frown in confusion, turning to him. “What are you talking about? What demo? And I swear I didn’t drink,” you say, crossing your heart with one hand and holding up the other in solemn vow.

You try and think back to what actually did happen last night. “I guess moving into this new environment made me a little anxious, so I decided to take a walk. I… got a call from home that made it a little worse, and then I bumped into this really rude guy in the elevator. I was walking to the convenience store to get a red bean ice cream… and then I took my anxiety medication and I fell asleep on the couch?” you say, thoughts beyond that jumbled, and a nagging feeling at the edge of your mind calling on you to take another look.

“Anxiety medication?”

You find Yeonjun and Kai regarding you with eyes that swim with surprise, confusion, and deep worry.

“No, no!” you say quickly, waving your hands in hopes to draw them out of concern. “It’s not that bad! I mean, I can’t help that I have it, and it is a hindrance when I try and carry on with my life as per normal, but I’m fine. Let me show you the results of my last consultation.” you reach into your pockets for your phone, but find them empty. Your brows furrow in confusion.

For the first time, you scan your surroundings.

Instead of the tangerine walls you painted last night, you find yourself in a plain white room. Instead of your posters, the walls are bare. All the furniture and bedding in the room is black, save for a big canvas by the wardrobe with a big cherry blossom tree painted on it.

You begin to feel nervous, the events of the night before becoming more and more blurred. You remember the elevator and the convenience store and the sofa, but you also remember the sound of running water and the feeling of cold, wet clothes sticking to your body.

There is a sharp pain in your chest. You groan and grip your chest. Yeonjun and Kai rush to grab your arms.

“Hey, Beomgyu, are you alright?”

You force yourself up to reassure them, but eye Soobin’s black bomber jacket draped over a chair in the room, the one you remember slipping before stepping out last night. Hurrying over to it, the strong emotions you’re experiencing eases momentarily.

You search for your phone, but the pockets are also empty – except for a fumbled paper in one of them. When you unfurl it, you find it is a referral letter for Dr. Kim. You sigh in relief, but it comes too soon. Your hands begin to tremble as your eyes gloss over the patient’s name on the referral.

Choi Beomgyu.

Confusion, panic and fear grip your mind and you lean against the chair for support. Yeonjun snatches the paper out of your hands.

“What is this?” Yeonjun gulps, “You said Seungcheol-hyung’s tests only reflected an iron deficiency. What is this Beomgyu?” He says, looking at you with disappointment thickening his voice.

You shake your head. “Me? Beomgyu? No, you’re confused. I am (Y/n). And this is a dream.” Yet it all feels so real.

“Hyung,” Kai sighs, “Enough.”

“Look, I –”

You freeze.

Across from where you stand is a long, full-body mirror against the wall. In the mirror, where you should be standing, is Beomgyu. Your idol who you love so dearly, the reason you are motivated to strive for your dreams, is staring back at you with a face that should be yours.

When you walk, he walks.

When you frown, he frowns.

When you scream, so does he.

Yeonjun and Kai jump with surprise and you smack your hand over your mouth. Why do I sound like that?

Your fingers scour your face, pulling your cheeks and running though your hair. Eyes wide with disbelief, you turn to the two men beside you.

“Th-this isn’t a dream? This is real? You’re – real? Th-that,” you say, pointing a shaky finger to your reflection, “is me?”

“Dude,” Kai groans, dragging his fingers across his face in frustration. “Have you lost it? Of course that’s you.”

Yeonjun considers the referral one more time, then looks between you and Kai. “Maybe this is a result of the anxiety? Or the medication? You should have told us, Beomgyu.”

The hurt in his eyes sends a pang of guilt to your heart. “I’m sure he– I mean, I had a reason. He– I mean, I am not the kind of person that would keep it from you with bad intentions. Promise.”

They don’t look very convinced, but before you can answer, there is a banging at the door.

Yeonjun and Kai frown at one another, then their eyes widen. You arch a brow at them.

“Shit! Today’s schedule!”

Your face falls.

You had a feeling waking up in your bias’s body was just the beginning of your problems.

***

Beomgyu howls in pain as Taehyun hoists him into a room in the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. His gut twists in fear.

“What the hell is going on here? Who are you people and why are you in my apartment?” he yells, waving a finger at Taehyun. He clutches his throat and frowns, coughing to clear his voice.

Taehyun rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “Why don’t you take a good look around you and try again.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but when he observes the environment his eyes widen. Large posters of his face are stuck against orange-colored walls instead of his white ones. At one corner of the room is what looks like a shrine: a framed photo of him is hanging off the wall, surrounded by photocards and fan-site photos, on a shelf of albums and a glass case holding a lightstick.

“We are not in your apartment. You are in ours.”

“Oh my God!”

Taehyun nods regretfully and gives him an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know how –”

“You’re fucking sasaengs!” He screams, grabbing the closest thing to him – a hairbrush – and holding it like a weapon. “I swear to God, if you don’t let me go right now, I’ll call the police and sue you all into Hell!”

Beomgyu fishes in his pocket for his phone, but pulls out one that is very unfamiliar to him. The screen is cracked up, and the transparent cover it is in holds a polaroid of his face at the back.

Taehyun squeezes his eyes shut and sighs heavily. When he takes a look around himself, his shoulders drop in embarrassment. “Okay, wait. I know how this looks, but I swear it’s not what you think.”

“Oh yeah sure,” Beomgyu scoffs, tossing the phone onto the bed behind him and tightening his hands around the brush handle, “tell that to the six foot body pillow with my face on it!”

Taehyun considers the monstrosity against (Y/n)’s wardrobe and pinches the bridge of his nose as his ears burn red. “Yup, that’s fair.”

“I can’t believe this is the type of friend Yeonjun-hyung has! And aren’t you a doctor? You should be stripped of your license! I’ll see to it personally — my brother is a doctor and—”

“Excuse me?” Taehyun’s expression darkens. “You can threaten my life, and that of the person who’s room this is, but if you threaten my years of hardwork, I’ll have to kill you.”

Beomgyu shrieks, stepping back as Taehyun starts toward him. He aims to throw the brush in his face, but misses and the brush hits the vanity on the other end of the room.

Something there captures Beomgyu’s attention, and he is no longer bothered by Taehyun’s empty threats.

Taehyun stops and arches a brow, following him as he walks toward the vanity in a trance.

Taehyun watches as Beomgyu picks up the photo of him, Soobin, Yunjin and (Y/n) in Hongdae.

He turns to Taehyun with an expression that he has seen the owner of that face make when she was looking at photos of him.

“This girl? You know her?”

Taehyun nods, curiosity peaked. “I do. Do you?”

Beomgyu regards at the photo again with those glossed over eyes and chuckles softly. “I ran into her at the hospital. Does she always smile like this?”

The puzzle pieces click in Taehyun’s head and he laughs. If this gets out, Yunjin will never let him hear the end of it. And (Y/n)? She will sink further into delusion than she has ever gone.

He can’t wait to tell them.

He shrugs. “You’re smiling like that right now, you know.”

Beomgyu looks up into the vanity mirror for the first time and his jaw drops.

“I’m dreaming right now, right?” Beomgyu laughs in disbelief, but when he does, and sees his reflection do the same thing, the photo clatters to the floor and he screams.

“I wish.” Taehyun sighs, bending to it up from the floor. There are footsteps coming down the hall and Soobin bangs on the door. “Now that we’re on the same page, why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember? And let’s make it quick, that idiot will literally break down this door.”

“Why are you so cool about this!” Beomgyu yells, clutching his throat and groaning in frustration. He tries to make it sound deeper. “Has this happened before? Is this some voodoo shit?”

Taehyun rolls his eyes. “Let me stop you right there, Drama King. We’re getting carried away again. Someone needs to be with sane and rational thought, otherwise we’d probably give one another vasovagal syncope.”

“What?”

“Tell me the last thing you remember,” Taehyun says firmly. “We need to find (Y/n) and then figure out how and why this happened.”

prev. | mlist | next

an: i’ll be updating everyday for what’s left of this week!

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)

#smau: from me to you 🎆#txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt smau #beomgyu smau #txt fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

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naughtyneganjdm · 5 months

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Naughty or Nice - Chapter 12

Summary: After returning home from town, Maggie tries to convince Y/N not to approach her father about the information that Beau found fearing that it will end badly.

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

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/134032210

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, some smuttiness, etc.

Notes: There are only two more chapters after this one. I wanted to post this yesterday, but I fell asleep. Thank you to those that take the time to comment. It means a lot to me.

“Hey Y/N,” Maggie stepped into the kitchen a few minutes after she saw Y/N disappear from their group. When they had returned home to the farm it had started snowing again so everyone was freezing. That led to them all socializing by the fire in the living room to warm up. It seemed like everyone was taking part. Everyone, but Y/N that was. It took a while for Maggie to be able to sneak away from the group, but when she got the chance she slipped away in order to go see her younger sister. Once she caught sight of her sister, Maggie stopped and clasped her fingers together before her. Y/N was standing at one of the corners of the kitchen, her hands braced against the counter with her head dropped down. By her body language, Maggie could tell that something was going on and it wasn’t good. After hearing Maggie calling out to her, she didn’t respond much other than to raise her head and look back over her shoulder. Maybe it was because Maggie was just starting to pay attention to things, but she could see in Y/N’s features that she looked miserable. “Are you okay?”

It genuinely looked like Y/N was so incredibly overwhelmed, “Not really, Maggie.”

Hearing that took Maggie aback. At the ice rink everything seemed alright, so to see this sudden change shocked her. Turning slowly on her heel, Y/N faced Maggie and leaned back into the corner of the cabinets. Bracing her weight on her hands, Y/N felt drained both physically and mentally after the last few days.

“What happened?” Maggie inquired, pushing her hands into her pockets suddenly feeling awkward about coming to approach her sister.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Y/N rejected her sister’s attempt at trying to start a conversation about her feelings. With what Y/N had been feeling lately, she knew that Maggie was the last person she should really be talking to. “What’s up Maggie?”

“I just wanted to come talk to you,” Maggie explained thinking back on the conversation that Negan had with her at the ice rink. It made her think about their father and she started to wonder if something happened when Maggie wasn’t around. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Did daddy do something while we were out today?”

“I don’t think you want to hear this,” Y/N confessed to her older sister, her words drawing Maggie further into the kitchen. “I don’t think you want to take part with things when it involves our father and I’m okay with that. I know how you feel about him. I respect you enough not to involve you.”

“Listen,” Maggie started, her face draining of color when she thought of what to say next. “I know I haven’t been the best sister. I’m still making mistakes to this day and some people have brought that to my attention lately. That’s really the last thing I want to happen between the two of us. I don’t feel like daddy does about you.”

“Yeah, but he’s your hero and I know it’s hard to see that someone you love makes mistakes,” Y/N suggested with a frown. Really, she couldn’t blame Maggie. Their father went above and beyond for Maggie. Why would Maggie feel the need to think negatively of Hershel? She wouldn’t. “You should really go back with everyone else. I want to talk to dad about things and I’m trying to figure out how.”

“What about?” Maggie pushed for answers trying to make some kind of motion to clear things up between them. “I think as sisters we should learn to talk more. There are some things that I want to talk to you about tonight too. Maybe the two of us could just go upstairs together right now and we could share a night together just talking. I think we need that.”

“That sounds nice Maggie, but right now isn’t a good time. Maybe tomorrow?” Y/N offered realizing that Maggie was doing her best to try and make something happen between the two of them. “That way I can talk to dad tonight and then tomorrow we can spend time doing the things that you want. After our family’s plans of course.”

“Fine, we can do that,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders, her throat tensing up when Y/N looked back toward the things that she had on the counter. Observing the book from where she was standing, Maggie found herself interested in finding out what it was. “You’ve piqued my interest Y/N. What do you have going on?”

“You really want to know?” Y/N double checked, her hand sliding back on the counter to place it in over the book that was there. “You might not be happy with what I show you and what I have to say.”

“I’m here and I’m not leaving,” Maggie articulated with a nod, stepping in closer to Y/N. “What’s this? What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to think of a way to approach dad,” Y/N informed Maggie, sliding further aside pointing toward the book that was there. “I have to talk to him, but I’m not sure what to say or how to word things.”

“About what?” Maggie spoke, stepping before the withered photo booklet. Like everyone else, the burning that was done to it had caught her attention with her fingers dragging across the material. Opening up the cover, a photo of Y/N’s mother was the first thing that she had seen. Confusion flooded into Maggie’s green eyes, when she grabbed a hold of the photo to look it over. Realization started to sink in when Maggie turned the photo to look at the name that was on the back. Lifting her head, Maggie gazed between the photo and her younger sister. “This is your mother?”

“It is,” Y/N answered, her throat going dry thinking about that photo. No matter how many times she saw these photos, it took her breath away every single time. After this long of never having an image in her head of her mother she finally had one now.

“You look so much like her,” Maggie commented, sucking at her bottom lip when she set the photo down and started flipping through the pages of the photo book.

“I do,” Y/N agreed with Maggie. Both Negan and Beau confirmed that with her last night. And she had eyes. She could see it too.

Flipping through the pages, it was clear that Maggie was bewildered trying to understand what she was seeing before her, “Where did you find this?”

“Beau found it in the attic. I think he was trying to find a photo of her for me for Christmas,” Y/N recalled what Negan’s son had told her. “Our father has a hiding place upstairs in the attic under some loose floorboards.”

“Beau found this?” Maggie confirmed, pointing at one of the pages and it was like she had a hard time believing that. “How did Negan’s son find something like this in only a few days when we lived here most of our childhoods and we never found anything on your mom?”

“I don’t know?” Y/N was flustered that was how Maggie was approaching things. “I guess Beau was just lucky. It’s obviously real Maggie.”

“Oh, I agree with you,” Maggie stopped on the photo that was of her, Y/N’s mother, Hershel and Y/N as a baby. “I guess this makes sense with all the questions he was asking me about your mother. I told him that I remembered a woman that was between my mom and Annette, but I was younger. I really didn’t have a memory of much.”

“I feel like dad persuaded you to forget,” Y/N proposed the idea and it made Maggie frown. “This goes against everything he’s said Maggie. All the things he told me about my mother were fake. Why would he lie this whole time?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie huffed, stepping back and away from the book to meet Y/N’s stare that was on her. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Maggie tried to come up with something, but was lost for words. “I’m sure there is a reason why he did what he did. Daddy wouldn’t lie just to be malicious so he could treat you like shit.”

“Maggie,” Y/N frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Pausing, she didn’t know if she had the strength to combat her sister about their father. “I understand that you always want to think the best of dad. I get that and I can’t fault you for that, but we can’t pretend that this is okay because it’s not. I know you saw the way he always treated me, always labeling me as a mistake. Telling me that I was something he didn’t know about until it was too late, but he did. These photos show that and things aren’t adding up.”

“I hate to say this Y/N,” Maggie started, her eyes closing when she took in a sharp breath, “but who cares?”

“Who cares?” Y/N repeated, her tone breaking when Maggie’s eyes opened, but it seemed like she refused to actually look at Y/N right now. “I care. Dad’s excuse to treat me like shit my whole life was that I was his mistake. His one night stand that he should have never had. In those photos you can see that he loved my mother. That they were engaged and they were happy. Why did he lie to me? Why did he keep her from me? And why did he use his lie as an excuse to treat me the way that he did?”

“I’m not trying to sound like a bad sister here,” Maggie mouthed attempting to reach out to touch Y/N, but Y/N wouldn’t let her. It made Maggie frown seeing that her sister didn’t want to be comforted in any fashion. “I hate that everything leads back to our father. It always has.”

“What are you trying to say?” Y/N pressed her sister to keep talking and Maggie looked so uncomfortable being put on the spot.

“I just think it’s time to finally let things go,” Maggie implied, her jaw clenching when she outstretched her hands to place them over Y/N’s shoulders. If anything, that made Y/N even more emotional with tears burning at her eyes. “You and daddy have been fighting for as long as I can remember. It’s been years since whatever happened with your mother happened. Does it really matter anymore?”

“Maggie,” Y/N had to pause to try to stop herself from crying because that was really the last thing she wanted right now. “I know you don’t understand or maybe you just don’t want to think about it, but our father broke me. I almost thought of taking my own life when I was younger, it was that bad and those thoughts never left me. I thought I didn’t belong here and it’s because of dad. I felt like I was an error that was being abused because I shouldn’t have happened, but it was clearly something he knew about. And the way he has treated me has always stemmed from the lies that he told me. That he told all of us.”

“I can empathize with how you feel Y/N,” Maggie stressed, sliding her hands down over Y/N’s arms to try to comfort her in any fashion that she could. “But you escaped things and you made something of yourself. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I do my best to hide how I have felt Maggie, but mental health doesn’t work like that. It’s not something I can just turn off,” Y/N clarified for her sister, her voice breaking when she thought about her past. “Because of the way that I was treated when I was younger, I have dad’s voice in the back of my mind. Always telling me that I don’t belong. That I’m a mistake. That I’m not worthy of the things that I have or I’m not good enough.”

“Then go to a psychiatrist Y/N,” Maggie dropped her hands down at her sides finding Y/N to be a little overwhelming at this moment. “A professional is going to be able to help you a whole lot more than approaching dad on the subject will.”

“You don’t think I’ve done that since I’ve left?” Y/N scoffed, shocked to hear her sister’s counter response. “Maggie, I’ve been in therapy since the moment I could afford it. I constantly have to fight that voice in my head to stop my thoughts from swallowing me whole. The fact that I even was able to make something of myself in an industry that is so hard on women and so heavily focused on other’s critiques is even a surprise in itself.”

“It shows that you are stronger than you think,” Maggie urged her to realize the positives. “Can’t you see the good in it? You are stronger than most people because you did all of that with all of this weighing on your shoulders. It’s Christmas Y/N, why do you want to have this conversation with daddy before Christmas?”

“I’m leaving the day after Christmas Maggie,” Y/N reminded Maggie of her plans that she had already made. “I think I deserve some answers. Some kind of explanation of why he hid things from me and put together this elaborate lie instead of being honest.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Maggie continued on with what she was saying previously. “Let the family have a good holiday and then the two of you can talk things out.”

Instead of saying anything, Y/N looked away from Maggie and swallowed down hard. It was hard hearing these things from Maggie, but she wasn’t about to fight with her, “I’m not saying this to upset you Y/N. I’m just being honest. We both know daddy enough to know that it’s not going to go well. We know how he is. Why put yourself through that and ruin your holiday?”

“Because it’s all I can think about,” she reasoned with Maggie, still keeping her head down because she was having a hard time talking about this in general. “I just don’t understand it and I think I deserve some answers.”

“It’s already hard enough,” Maggie conceded trying to reach for Y/N’s hands to hold them, but she was frozen against Maggie’s touch. “It’s just going to start a fight. The two of you are going to get angry with one another. Let’s try to make it through the holiday without having things explode on us. Okay?”

Silence followed. How was Y/N supposed to respond to that?

“Tonight has kind of been…extreme for me, so please just come upstairs with me and talk to me?” Maggie implored trying to reach out to her sister. Squeezing her fingers tightly around Y/N’s had Maggie tipping her head down trying to get Y/N’s eyes to meet hers. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about some things and I think after the night I’ve had today, I think we need to talk. I know it sounds greedy, I know that it’s bad, but I really could use my sister. So could we please hold this off and wait until after the holiday?”

“Hold what off?” Hershel’s voice surprised the both of them when he walked into the kitchen to hear the tail end of their discussion. He stepped into the corner, his arms folding out in front of his chest when Maggie looked between the two of them. “Everyone headed upstairs to bed. I figured I would let the two of you know.”

“That’s good to know,” Maggie thought aloud her expression almost begging Y/N to let things go. “Let’s go upstairs together. You can come in my room so we can talk for a while and then you can go to bed. Some sleep might be good for us. Don’t you think? Give us time to let things linger and we can decide if it’s really the best decision.”

Turning away from Maggie, Y/N closed the photo book and covered it with her jacket to hide it from their father. Considering what Maggie asked of her, Y/N was careful in the way that she picked the book up and held it close to her body.

“What’s going on?” Hershel picked up on the tension between them, but neither Maggie nor Y/N was quick to answer. “Maggie?”

“It’s nothing,” Maggie exclaimed trying to put a barrier between Hershel and Y/N. When Y/N turned on her heel, Maggie extended her hand and motioned down to it hoping that Y/N would take it. “Come on honey. Join me upstairs and then we can have a girl’s night together. I need to talk to you. Really bad. I need you.”

“Maggie,” Y/N felt a lump growing in her throat when she looked to Maggie’s hand and then their father. Guilt was eating away at her knowing that Maggie was desperate to have her forget everything. “I’m sorry Maggie, I just really need to talk to him.”

“Go upstairs Maggie,” Hershel motioned for his older daughter to go ahead with everyone else upstairs. “If she wants to talk to me, we’ll talk. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’m sorry daddy, but this is more important to me,” Maggie grumbled under her breath refusing to lower her hand. Tears were actually burning at Y/N’s eyes and forming at the corners of them, but Maggie was trying to pull out everything to avoid this confrontation between them. “Come on.”

Extending her hand out, Y/N accepted Maggie’s hand and gave her a nod. A sigh of relief filled the air when Maggie lowered their hands and led Y/N toward the door. Instead of picking herself, Y/N picked Maggie after hearing her pleas. Making it out of the kitchen, Maggie gasped when Hershel put his hand up between the two of them against the doorframe to stop Y/N from leaving with her.

“Please daddy, just let it go,” Maggie begged of her father, her green eyes pleading with Hershel in this moment. “For me.”

“Goodnight Maggie,” Hershel ignored Maggie’s request, his throat tensing with Y/N standing before him with her eyes locked on his.

“Please move your arm,” Y/N was quiet, doing her best to follow through with what Maggie asked of her. “I’d like to go up with Maggie. We can talk another day.”

Shaking his head, Hershel slid his hand down further making it damn near impossible for her to leave, “I said go to bed Maggie.”

“Daddy,” Maggie breathed out catching the glare that Hershel gave her when she kept trying to stop this from happening. Finally releasing Y/N’s hand had Maggie frowning, her eyes glancing to Y/N who looked mentally defeated already. Sadness flooded Maggie’s features before she gave a small nod and finally headed up the stairs leaving the two of them alone.

Being trapped in the kitchen with Hershel was already intimidating with how he had done what he just did, “By the look on your face I can only imagine the kind of conversation the two of us are going to be having right now. What is it now? I’ve left you alone all day. We all just had a nice time out with our family. Today was a good day. So what could you possibly be this miserable about?”

“Don’t worry about it dad,” Y/N encouraged her father to let things go. “Maggie asked something of me, so I’m just going to head to bed. I hope you have a good night.”

“No, that’s not going to work with me,” Hershel stated firmly, keeping his hand in place to block her from leaving. “There is something that you want to talk about so why don’t you just say it. Go ahead Y/N.”

“Fine, I just wanted to talk to you about my mother,” Y/N whispered, finally locking eyes with Hershel who tipped his head to the side. Instead of just jumping right in, she figured she would give Hershel the chance to change things around for her. “I was thinking with it being Christmas time, maybe you could talk to me about her.”

“What is there to talk about?” Hershel finally lowered his arm and shoved his hands into his pockets. Disappointed, Y/N sighed and forced herself to look away from Hershel. “We’ve talked about your mother extensively. There isn’t much to say Y/N. It was a moment of vulnerability that I had, I made a mistake, I wasn’t thinking. That’s it.”

“That’s what you always told me,” Y/N accepted that it was always his answer, but she wasn’t okay with it. A broken breath fell from her parted lips and she weakly smiled. “I was your biggest mistake. The thing that you never wanted. And you let me know it over and over again.”

“You have a very different recognition of things young lady,” Hershel defended, his expression showing that he was angry. It was very quiet downstairs and she knew it was just the two of them alone. “I cared for you. You had a roof over your head. You were given things. You didn’t suffer. You didn’t starve. You weren’t out on the streets. You were pampered. And you were always too greedy to realize that. This depression that you’ve come up with over the years to villainize me is something else.”

“You’re right. You did keep me alive,” she agreed with Hershel, her throat feeling like it was about to close up with how upset she was. “It was the things that you said dad. How you were with me compared to Maggie and Beth hurt. You always told me that I was the one that you never wanted. The one that got thrown on you. Any time I upset you or didn’t do what you wanted, I was reminded that I was the problem. I still have memories of being a child and hurting myself. The only person that ever cared for me was Annette. You always coddled Beth and Maggie, but with me you always snubbed me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Hershel queried, throwing his hand up when she finally broke and tears started sliding down her face. “You were a mistake Y/N, but when you were brought to me, I took you in. I took care of you and I gave you a life. You’ve been nothing but a gigantic problem your whole life. It was always something with you. You gave up the tournaments with the horses. You were so stubborn and disrespectful. And it never changed.”

“Do you wish I never happened? Since it makes you look bad having a daughter with a one-night stand?” Y/N wondered feeling her heart hammering inside of her chest. Hershel’s face grew red and he exhaled loudly. “You always let me know that I was the one that didn’t belong because you never had a connection with my mother.”

“Do you know why I prefer Beth and Maggie?” Hershel avoided her question, his jaw clenching when he leaned further back against the wall to brace himself. Nothing came from his middle daughter and Hershel shrugged his shoulders. “Because they are better than you. They listen. They aren’t quitters. They don’t make me out to be some villain because I didn’t love them the way that they wanted.”

“Because you always let them know they were loved,” she bickered, her voice breaking when she clung tighter to her things. It was one thing to think it, but another to hear it from him that he thought Maggie and Beth were better than her. “Maggie and Beth never had to go to bed at night wondering if their existence was a mistake. I deserved just as much love as Maggie did. I understand that she is your favorite. She often is everyone’s favorite because…”

“Because she’s better,” Hershel interrupted her causing her words to come to an immediate stop. “Everyone sees it. So what if you have a better job? You aren’t happy, are you? Did you find that happiness that you were looking for when you left here Y/N? Since you were going to harm yourself if you didn’t find that found family?”

Hearing her father mocking her had her body trembling at how awful he was actually being to her about things.

“Honey, everyone always liked Maggie better because she was a good girl. She didn’t hide herself away from everyone,” Hershel lectured Y/N throwing his hand up in the direction of the second floor. “Maggie found herself a man that while I’m not his biggest fan has two children. He has a solid job. You’re engaged to a pizza delivery boy. One that in my opinion seems to be fonder of Maggie too.”

“What?” she half laughed her voice becoming raspy at what Hershel was throwing on her. “What’s wrong with Glenn being a pizza delivery boy? A job is a job dad. That doesn’t determine something good or bad about me.”

“I don’t think you are understanding here honey,” Hershel countered with a shake of his head. “You’re the problem. You blame me. You blame your family, but you’re missing that you are the problem. Not me. If it was me, you would have found happiness by now. Instead you’re engaged to someone who is nothing. Someone who doesn’t even connect with you on a mental level.”

“Okay,” Y/N slurred out, the tears burning at her eyes hearing her father dig everything in further. “Do you ever blame yourself for anything? For lying to me? For creating a story that wasn’t true?”

“Lying to you?” Hershel snorted, his head tipping to the side. “So now I’m not only an abuser, but I’m also a liar? You sure do have a lot of nerve to accuse…” Hershel’s words came to a stop when Y/N pulled her jacket away from the photo book that Beau had found. When his eyes fell upon it, his words came to a stop and he let out a shuddering breath. “Where did you find that?”

Stepping back and away from Hershel, she flipped to the page where her mother was pregnant and a younger version of her father had his hand placed over her mother’s pregnant belly, “I don’t know dad, it looks like you kind of knew my mother all along. And you actually look happy here…”

“Give me that,” Hershel demanded and she shook her head, flipping to the photo that was at the end of the book. “You have no business looking at that.”

“You know, my mother looks really good for the walking dead,” Y/N mocked her father since he had told her that she had died in childbirth and he had nothing to do with her. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you treat me the way you did when you weren’t even telling the truth? You look happy in these photos. You look like you loved my mother and you actually loved me. What went wrong dad? Why is it when my mother died you decided to honor her by treating me like the outcast? Do you think she would be happy with the way that you’ve treated me?”

“Give me that,” Hershel repeated what he said earlier. Closing the book, she placed it under her arm and denied his request. “You have no right to that.”

“I have every right to this and I always did,” Y/N asserted, clinging tightly to the material. “You tried to erase my mother and you did. You created a horrible story to hide something that was obviously beautiful and I think I deserve an answer.”

“You deserve nothing,” Hershel snapped at her, his tone getting angrier when he stepped in closer to her. “I owe you nothing,”

“I shouldn’t have found out about this from Negan’s son finding it in the attic,” Y/N declared, her own voice raising while they fought with one another. “It should have been you telling me about my past. It should have been you telling me about my mother. It should have been you…I deserved to be just as loved as Beth and Maggie because you clearly loved my mother too.”

Hershel’s face was red, his eyes tearing over almost hinting that he was getting upset with having to hold back on everything, “I deserve answers.”

“I want you out tomorrow morning,” Hershel whispered, his fists clenching at his sides when he gazed to the book that was in her hand. “I don’t want you here. I never did. You can take that book and you can take that boy with you for all I care.”

“I’m not leaving until…” she began only to have Hershel step before her in attempts to be intimidating.

“You’re leaving tomorrow. I want nothing to do with you,” Hershel was seething, his tears burning at his eyes. “I want you gone. I don’t want you here for Christmas. I didn’t want you back in the first place. You get your things and you leave. Do you understand me? I never want to see you again. You’ve ruined Christmas. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“I hear you. Loud and clear,” she whispered behind tears herself, nodding her head slowly. “I’ll give you exactly what you want Hershel,” she looked down toward the ground licking her lips while she tried to keep herself calm. At this point he didn’t deserve to have her call him dad. “I’ll be gone by afternoon tomorrow. And you can burn everything that has me in your life too. Heaven knows you want to. This mistake will correct itself. I’m sorry I disappointed you so much.”

Heading for the stairs she could hear Hershel standing at the entrance of the kitchen to watch her going upstairs and she let out a shuddering breath, “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, but you decided long before I was even capable of understanding things that you never would.”

That was the last thing she was going to say to her father. Getting up the stairs, instead of heading for her room she immediately went upstairs to Negan’s room, locking the door behind her once she made it to the stairs. Climbing up them, she stopped when she saw that Negan was sitting at the center of the bed in just a pair of pajama pants. He was wearing his thick, black framed glasses while he was reading something.

Dropping the things in her hands made Negan’s head raise from the book that he was reading. Kicking out of her boots, she tugged her shirt from her body and then pushed at her pants to get them down her legs. All she could think about was her father stressing that Maggie was better than her and everyone thought it. How her father hated her and made her feel like less than human.

“Hey,” Negan set his book aside, worry flooding his hazel eyes when she got on her knees on the bed. Crawling in over him surprised him and he immediately lifted his hand to stroke over the side of her face. Sweeping at the tears that were there took her breath away and she could see that he was worried about her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Instead of saying anything, she immediately brought her lips to his to silence him, her hands working open the tie in his pajama pants. Her kisses were rough, but it was obvious that Negan could taste the lingering of her tears over her lips when he tried to get her to look at him, “Hey. Y/N. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Please Negan,” she begged against his lips, dipping her hand inside of his pants to pull out the root to his masculinity, stroking her fingers over it. Negan was soft against her touch and she was working to change that. “I need this. I need this really bad right now.”

“Listen…” Negan’s eyes rolled back, his lips parting when she moved further in over him and started pressing wet kisses over the side of his neck. God, he was doing his best to fight her off, but he was having a hard time with it with how aggressive she was being. “We shouldn’t do things like this when you are upset. I would rather just talk to you…”

“I need this Negan,” she insisted, her lips hovering in over his after he tipped his head back to look at her. Adjusting her positioning over him had his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I don’t think I’ve needed this more.”

“I just…” Negan huffed when she forcefully moved in over him to hook her fingers from her left hand into his hair while her right reached down to push her panties aside. Grunting, Negan felt her lowering down over his semi-erect manhood, his hands clasping tightly to her hips. With her arms hooked around his shoulders, she was using her balance over him to roll her hips over his length working to make him completely solid inside of her. Pressing his forehead to her chest, Negan moaned out while she had her way with him knowing that she was being rough. The headboard was smacking up against the wall with the movements she made over him and he was having a hard time being quiet. “People will hear.”

“Let them,” she didn’t have a care in the world while she bounced herself over him using the best of her strength that she could build up. Uncontrollable moans fell from Negan’s throat, his hands caressing up over the lengths of her body. With Negan inside of her, she had that full, stretching feeling that helped distract her and it was better than the pain.

When she took him completely inside of her and stayed still over him for an extended amount of time before moving again, he knew that it felt too detached for him. “Y/N…please…”

Shakily, Negan’s hands lifted to cup her face in his palms in order to get her to look at him, “Talk to me. Please.”

Finally, her movements stopped and he was able to get her eyes to connect with his, “What’s going on?”

“I’m getting kicked out of the house. I have to leave tomorrow morning,” she explained to Negan with him sweeping away at the tears that still lingered over her face. Attempting to move her hips, Negan shook his head and kept her in place over him so she could continue opening up to him. “Hershel wants me gone after I brought up that book to him, so I’m leaving. I got no explanation from him. He told me during our discussion that Maggie was better than me in every way. That you felt it. Glenn did. Everyone,” she took in a sharp breath, her head lowering to rest against his. “Please Negan, I need this. I just need to feel like I’m special. That I mean something to someone…”

“This is not the way,” Negan shook his head, curling his arm around her waist to carefully lower her down at the center of the bed. Shakily moving in over her, Negan did his best to make her feel comfortable before starting to carefully roll his hips to make love to her. What she was doing before felt more like she was trying to punish herself as opposed to actually allowing herself to feel loved. Peppering kisses over her lips, Negan kept their eyes connected while he thrust over her and hovered his lips over hers. “He’s wrong. You are perfect. You are everything to me and he doesn’t deserve you.”

Lowering down over her, Negan’s fingers hooked with hers as he held them to the bed and squeezed tightly at them. If she wanted to be intimate with him, he was going to make sure that he was going to make love to her like she deserved right now. Not have some quick romp that would be rough and would ultimately leave her feeling empty in the end.

“I love you so much,” Negan repeated what he knew to be true, his kisses trailing down over her jawline while she stroked her fingers through his dark hair. “We’ll all leave tomorrow. Together. Because that’s where I’m meant to be. With you.”

What really made this moment stand out was his praising and the way he spoke to her. That’s what she needed right now. To be proven to that he loved her. That beyond all else, they were meant to be together. That she was it for him and not Maggie.

This wasn’t a moment focused on pleasure for them. No, it was more so a moment to share their love with one another. To connect and bond further than they already had. What she needed to hear, Negan said. Even when they finished, she just wanted to be held by him. To be close to him.

“You are the only place I feel like I belong,” she whispered with him laying over her, her fingers caressing at the back of his neck with him cuddled up to her. Chills flooded her body with Negan panting against the side of her neck. Leaving frequent kisses over her flesh left her feeling pampered and cherished. “I should have left with you and your family from the start.”

“You’ll be with us,” Negan tipped his head far back enough to give her a small nod while he swept his thumb in over her bottom lip. Negan’s hair was damp with it in his face and she found herself in awe with the way that he looked. “Your father did you a favor because now he’s made it easy for you to erase him from your life. You don’t need that toxicity in your life. You’ll never have to feel this way again. Do you understand?”

Pressing his forehead to hers, Negan took a minute before peppering faint kisses over her face toward her lips, “In the morning we will all pack and we’ll go back to my place. We’ll have Christmas together. Then first thing after Christmas, I’ll go get you a ring. We’ll get married on New Years. Have our baby…”

“Negan,” she whimpered with Negan stroking the back of his hand over her abdomen. “I don’t know if I should be a parent. The way that I was treated, I don’t want to be my father.”

“You never would be,” Negan hushed her with all the love in his eyes. “Look how you are with Beau and Erin. They love you and you are so good with them. You’ll be the best mother. And we will all love you. You will make your family with us and you will be loved the way you were always meant to be.”

“Do you think we will be able to get out easy in the morning?” she wondered knowing there was so much that had to be done with Maggie and Glenn. “Maggie and Glenn should…”

“Maggie and I broke up tonight,” Negan informed her, causing her to let out a surprised exhale. Pointing toward the discoloration over his face made Y/N let out a tense breath. “That’s why my nose is hurt. She punched me. I told her that I was in love with someone else. We both agreed it was better to go our separate ways. I’m already done.”

“Does she know that it’s me?” she was shocked to hear that Negan was already broken up with her older sister.

“No, I didn’t think I had to tell her that part yet,” Negan thought back to his discussion with Maggie. “She already punched me in the nose, I thought if I told her who it was, she would fucking destroy me. This way tomorrow morning she doesn’t have much time to respond before we leave, but at least she will know.”

“How did that happen?” Y/N wanted to know the details, brushing her fingers into Negan’s wet hair to sweep it back over his ear.

“Maggie was acting really weird the last two days,” Negan answered her knowing that Beau told him he needed to be completely honest with her about everything. It scared him. Especially with how Y/N was feeling, but he had to be straight forward. “Last night when you were with Beau, she came in here and I thought it was you. She tried giving me a blowjob, but I immediately knew that it wasn’t you and I stopped her…”

“She what?” she pushed into Negan’s chest, watching his head immediately shake “Negan?”

“Nothing much happened. I immediately stopped her when she started to give me one. It was dark, she crawled up under the covers and I thought it was you. Once she started doing it, I knew it wasn’t you and I stopped her. We fought because she wanted to have sex with me and I wouldn’t. That’s when Hershel showed up to rip me a new one thinking we were trying to get intimate. Then today she tried again. She’s never been this desperate to try to sleep with me and then I found out the reason she was doing that is because she cheated on me with someone else,” Negan let his words almost mesh together with how fast he was explaining what happened with Maggie. Hearing all this only seemed to upset Y/N, but he needed her to know so they could be clear with things. “You’re it for me Y/N, so when she admitted things to me today about cheating I immediately let her know that I was in love with someone else. That I belonged with someone else.”

Even after he explained things, she didn’t seem entirely comfortable, but Negan shook his head, “Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll take tonight and then we will leave in the morning and we can start our life together.”

“That’s exactly how it went down with Maggie?” she confirmed with Negan, faintly skimming her fingertips over the discolored flesh under his eyes.

“Exactly. I was smacked today and punched,” Negan snickered, his lips claiming hers in small kisses that still managed to take her breath away. “Your sister has some aggression issues when she gets upset. As much as I liked her, she beat the shit out of me. A lot. This wasn’t the first time she had done it. I hope whoever she wants to be with can handle her because she’s kind of abusive.”

“You poor thing,” she whispered, tracing her fingers down over the side of his face and it had Negan leaning into her touch. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“It’s worth it to be with you,” Negan slurred, cuddling in closer to her wanting to keep that connection between the two of them.

Getting comfortable beneath Negan, she looked between them knowing that he was still inside of her going soft and it made her eyes come to a tight close. With Negan now being broken up with Maggie, to the promise of a happy life along with them trying for their baby, Y/N knew that this was the life she genuinely wanted.

“I love you so fucking much,” Negan declared, his hazel eyes locking with hers while he palmed in over the side of her face in a loving, tender sweep. “I hope you know that. You mean everything to me.”

Pulling Negan back into her arms, she held him close and kissed at the side of his neck. That was something she really hoped was true. It was just after everything she experienced with her father, it was hard to actually believe those words because she wondered if she was even deserving of something like that.

“Sometimes I think you and your children are too good for me,” she whispered, her fingers stroking through his dark hair. “That I don’t deserve this…that I don’t deserve you…”

“And that’s just your fears talking,” Negan hushed her, leaning back far enough to stare into her eyes again. “Because if anything, I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you. I’m not perfect Y/N. I’ve never been perfect. So please don’t think like that.”

“What if you were meant to be with Maggie, but I ruined that?” she wondered and it made Negan scoff. With a shake of his head, Negan nuzzled his nose in against hers but then winced realizing that it still hurt. “It’s a possibility Negan.”

“It’s not. It’s really not,” Negan denied, hating that these were things she was starting to believe because of the ideas that her family filled her with. Coaxing her to look at him and stay connected with him, Negan frowned. “Maggie was not someone that I could see myself having a future with. When I’m with you, all I can think about is our future and all the possibilities.”

Tears burned at her eyes and it broke his heart to see her this way. Lowering down, he immediately started pressing loving kisses over her face, “I don’t think you know how much I truly love you.”

“I can only imagine,” Negan slurred, his fingers lowering to capture her hand in his. Giving it a tight squeeze, he shrugged his shoulders. “But considering how I feel about you? If it’s half as much as I love you, then I know it’s a lot.”

“Why do you love me?” she was confused about all of this and the way that Negan felt toward her.

“I could talk to you all night about all the reasons that I love you,” Negan vowed, a smirk tugging at his lips when he thought about her. “When you are this in love with someone, everything about them appeals to you. I can’t think of something I dislike.”

“All I can think about myself is all of the things that I do hate about me,” she opened up to Negan, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hug him tightly to her. Peppering tiny kisses against his freckle covered shoulders had him sighing.

“That’s because of the environment you are in. Once we get you out of here, you will thrive and shine,” Negan promised, his lips finding their way to hers again so he could kiss her passionately. “And if you don’t? I’ll be there to help you through every step. Because I love you. And you’ll never be alone. Not with me.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos @dilfsandmartinis

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #Negan fanfiction #negan x reader #The Walking Dead #TWD Fanfiction #Negan Smith #negan x you #Maggie Greene

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grapejuicestyless · 10 months

Text

Endless Empathy(People Pleaser pt.2)

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: A continuation of the People pleaser short writing that is both linked in my master list on my page and on the top of this part!!! This Can be Read separately!

Angst to fluffy(kinda!)

Read part 1 here!

If you asked Y/n Y/l/n what her favorite feeling in the world was, it wouldn’t even be a second thought as to what her answer would be. It was so obvious to everyone who was lucky enough to be consistently surrounded by her energy. Y/n loved love.

It wasn’t necessarily the feeling of being loved. The girl, as much as she had drifted off into daydreams, fantasizing about her silky white wedding dress and her ideal bridesmaids, her desire for the feeling of love cut much deeper.

It was the knowing feeling that she could give back to someone who needed it. The fuzziness she gained every time she could provide a sense of reliability to someone close to her. The idea she was able to earn their trust because they were just that close made her feel less alone on the nights she spent across the world from her home.

Y/n loved that feeling. The way it would spread from her chest and expand into the pit of her stomach, making it all fluttery and warm. So much so, she found herself altering herself to fit the impossible standards she held herself to.

She found herself doing things she really had no desire to, her passive aggressiveness only grumbling through her lips when she was sure enough she was alone, out of ear shot. Quickly, her lack of want would be overtaken by that euphoria she felt again, the intense sense of happiness making up for her discomfort she subjected herself to.

From afar, it looked like an addiction. The girl constantly itching to do good, to be better. To be the best version of herself in order to lift those up around her, to make everyone proud of her. She wanted people to not feel ashamed when her name came up in conversation. An addiction so bad, the girls need for approval and longing to please everyone at once, her body often moved before her mouth could catch up. Her mind could be screaming no, but she would already have said yes.

It’s not like it had a cure. How can you cure a pathological people pleaser? You can dote on them and smother them as much as you want. Do anything they need, go out of your way to make their life easier, but ultimately your effort will only make it worse. Devoting your time to someone who doesn’t want it in that way. They begin to feel like a chore, an inconvenience that they need to make up for. And the cycle begins again.

——————————————————————————

A burden is often what I felt like these days. Feet swung over the arm of the couch, head pressed back on the cushion that was Harry’s lap. His hands brushed between my hair, which had been stuck on my forehead in an intense sweat that I had broken into while rehearsing for our upcoming show in Cardiff.

We’d only reached As It Was by the time Harry decided it was time for us to conclude our soundcheck.

It was confusing, the way he said it. Almost like it was directed towards me. He sounded like he had been worried, eyes focused in on mine carefully.

Maybe it was because of the scene I’d caused just the show prior or the fact I was sure I was probably shining under the stage lights in my pooling sweat that caused an uneasiness to rise in Harry’s mind.

“Y/n? You ready to call it?” I blinked rapidly, opening my mouth, I was a fish out of water. Sentences became impossible to correctly piece together as an extra layer of heat covers my face. A blanket of blush covering my already irritated face, I felt embarrassed.

Why would he stop such a crucial part of each show for me? What if something had happened during our closing songs tonight? The unsettling lump in my throat expanded into what felt like vomit rising, even with my throat completely dry. The idea that something could be jeopardized, ruining the great experience that is Love On Tour, could all be caused by my inability to keep pushing for just a few more songs made me sick.

Yet, the look Harry gave me as his hands slipped around my waist, lips caught in a worried line sent an all familiar struggle in my bones.

I wanted to make it right, make sure everything was double checked. There would be no issues and everyone could have their two hours of love promised by Harry and the love band, but I also longed to make sure Harry was content, constantly unbothered. If I continued to push the bile down hard enough, I could focus on doing what’s best for one person, forget about everyone else involved.

So it became a blurry mess, between the moment Harry called soundcheck quits to where we found ourselves now. Cuddled up in the relief that was well filtered air conditioner. Harry’s hands tangling and detangling between my hair, pulling lightly on my scalp to relieve any possible pressure, his eyes fixated on the TV which played some ninety’s sitcom with a beautiful group of friends that the public was made to believe were considered average.

While he seemed content in the position he was in, in the moment, I couldn’t put my mind to ease, the anxiety that I could do exactly what I feared most poisoning any sense of relaxation I had previously.

How do you make everyone happy at once when nobody seems to be on the same page? How can you spread love evenly when you’ve already spread yourself so thin? My face was greyed, mind plagued by my deepest fears. My harshest wounds.

Realistically, Harry’s final decision had benefitted the entire crew greatly. Everyone tired and worn from the continuous heat wave that was a blanket over the earth at the moment. But the way it was phrased, the way I was shot sympathetic smiles made me uneasy. As if their benefit was more of a loss and a waste of time.

Looking up at Harry, I studied his face carefully. He seemed at ease. Unbothered by it all. His eyes trained on the screen, a soft laugh escaping his throat. Completely relaxed. Like he didn’t realize I was just barely a foot below his eye level, eyes watering as I slowly died. I promised him to stop being such a push over, such a people pleaser, but you can’t cure a sickness that’s not truly an illness.

How can you love someone you don’t know is sick?

——————————————————————————

I wish I could say I stuck to my word. Continued to be the person I vowed to become after my incident weeks ago. Stopped being a push over, stopped forgetting about myself. Stopped putting on other peoples shoes before my own. But I’m not a liar.

The air was thick, the humidity unforgiving and unrelenting all morning. Everything felt off from the minute my foot left the hotel room booked for the crew. Yet, I took no time to dwell on my own feelings, pushing back the unsettling pit in my stomach and focusing on the day ahead.

Elin sent a quick text to our band group chat. An old one we’d made without Harry to surprise him for his birthday. It was short and simple. The flags were there, ruby red and waving in the wind. The fact that the request was hidden from the one person who pushed back for me. The only person who could say, “no” for me without anyone protesting.

She wrote, “Hey, y/n/n! I’m running a bit late. Would you mind picking up some coffee and treats for everyone? I’ll send the address for the shop!” It was less of question, I realized, reading it back. More of a request or even a demand. Still, it was short and a simple task. Nothing unmanageable.

She sent the location, and only then did I fully recognize my regret. The shop was almost thirty minutes away from the arena, without traffic. Considering morning rush hour was in place, I could count on being late.

But I had agreed. The guilt of being late ate at me, but even the thought of letting everyone down was nauseating. Making my head spin and eyes water at even the slightest vision of their frowning faces and furrowed brows.

So, I got in my car, ignoring every text as I broke every law of the road to reach the coffee shop as quickly as possible. Eyes squinting at the morning sun and arms sticky from condensation.

——————————————————————————

When I arrived to the arena, it was bustling. The stage crew rushing around to find parts of equipment needed for the upcoming soundcheck, managing security debriefing down the hall for barricade procedures. The heat almost unbearable in each hallway.

It all led to the one room that everyone gathered in. A larger dressing room that was more of a living room. Colder than most of the building and more decorated too.

Laughter filtered through the cracked double doors, cold hair slipping through like a small taste of what heaven felt like in that moment. You could see everyone standing in a circle, cups of water held loosely in each one’s hand as they joked around as a tight knit group of friends would.

They must of smelled the goods, it must have wafted because without even a noise being made, Nyoh, Pauli and Mitch were looking straight at me. Smiles painted on their faces wide and welcoming, reflecting their actions as I was swarmed by every single band member at once. Hands grabbing at the donut box and tray of coffee all but ripped out of the palm of my unsteady hand.

Their gratefulness was overwhelming at first. Supplying me with that addictive euphoria I longed for with each task I put myself through. They hustled around to take a peak at what I had bought. Ready to stuff their faces with a little of each as I settled in for the day.

Silence fell over the room suddenly, a deep breath being inhaled only to be held. Almost as if someone was trying to find something to say, but had come short. Unable to figure out the right articulation of their statement.

“What, is something wrong?” I smiled sweetly, walking over to the table. Sarah shrugged, turning to me with a sweet smile, hand on my shoulder almost like it was a support for what was about to be said.

“Oh, nothing. We just don’t really like these flavors.” Nyoh shared bravely, smiling halfway, still focused on the opened and not crinkled donut box.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry guys, I wasn’t told if you guys wanted anything specific. I can run back and get some more?” Somehow, even in my greatest efforts, I still came short. Guilt eating at me that I had probably ruined their morning. Delaying their breakfast because I had to be a screw up. It made me sicker than the pit in my stomach this morning had made me.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just order some online. It’ll be here quick.” My face looked just as blank as my mind was.

In that moment, I lacked all ability to respond. Thoughts running wild, much to fast to say anything except a pathetic squeak.

“Oh.” Is what I said. If I wasn’t such a coward, such a push over, a walking talking door mat, I would’ve yelled. Ripped the hair from my scalp.

“Why did you make me drive all the way there this morning if you could just order it? What about the money I spent? Are you going to pay me back or is this just another involuntary favor I’ve gone out of my way to complete?” If I was Harry, which I’m not, I would’ve said that. I would’ve yelled and cried and defended my name with all my willpower. Not letting anyone interrupt. I’d have some self respect but that wasn’t me.

I am Y/n Y/l/n. The girl who sits in the back of the stage, doing so much for so little. The girl who gives up everything for everyone because she can’t control it. Because she’s sick in the head.

So I said, “Oh.” Like an idiot. My throat dry and my eyes watery. I nodded, firm and short. Ready to make my exit.

Everyone turned back to their circle, laughing again as the order was placed. In a room full of my brothers and sisters I couldn’t help but feel out of place. Unappreciated. Suddenly, it was like my endless empathy and compassion wasn’t enough for them. It wasn’t good enough. And if that wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t good enough.

And as I disappeared behind the double doors, not a soul called back for me. A ghost to everyone. Unappreciated and unaware of the intense heartbreak I was facing.

In this moment, I believe it’s where it got bad. Worse than ever before. My brain no longer silently resisting as my entire being longed for that nod of approval and the appreciative conversations that came after it.

It continued, like this, all day. My feet padding against the pavement and onto the tiles of the hallways. Sweat sticking to my forehead and dripping down my neck. It looked in my shirt.

All day I’d been running around helping. The itch to be better, to do better overwhelming. If it was fetching a water bottle for the sound guys or searching up and down religiously for a missing headset for the lighting crew, I was first on the scene to assist in every way possible.

Each nod and smile sent my way fueling my addiction. Each action I pursued further breaking my promise to Harry more and more. I felt myself slipping away.

I just wanted to be good. Longed for it every waking minute. Like if I kept pushing, kept reaching that desired feeling, achieving each goal to make another persons life easier, I lost more and more of myself. Stress building like a ton of bricks throw on my shoulders. The weight unbearable. Heavier and heavier each minute.

Harry had finally shown up, ready to begin soundcheck. His in ears hung around his neck carelessly. White shirt stuck to his body in sweat. The words crinkled to a point where they were unrecognizable. His shorts were short and shoes light on the floor. He looked satisfied, light and well rested. The opposite of everything I felt.

“Hey, angel!” He called enthusiastically.

For the first time that day, my cheeks lifted from a genuine smile. Not one caused by a success in helping another person, or a result of devoting all my time and energy to another. But because someone who never asked anything of me and still held as much if not more appreciation for me had welcomed me into his arms without any requests.

I let myself melt into his touch, eyebrows relaxing and heartbeat slowing for the first time all day. His lips rested flat against the top of my head, arms held tight around mine, chest pressed against mine. We were a sweaty tangled mess but I couldn’t have been happier.

“Ready to do some test runs?” He questioned, moving back to brush away beads of sweat that had collected on my rosy face. I nodded eagerly, though inside I felt weary and panicked at the idea of having yet another long task to do.

Another swift peck was delivered to my forehead, Harry’s hold retreating from my body. He led the way to the stage before stopping.

“Shit, I forgot the waters. Y/n, would you mind grabbing them? I left them by the water fountain.” I nodded, blinking harshly. My feet pivoting away from him, shoulders hunched and muscles tensed.

My feet moved quick, running down the halls to find the pack of water bottles Harry had instructed me to grab.

The plastic was soon in my line of vision. Full and cool to the touch. They were heavy. Nothing I couldn’t carry normally, but the unforgiving tension within my muscles made it hard to move. Multiple times I stopped to set it down, breath jagged and heavy. Hands slipping away from the plastic cover as my palms were lathered in sweat and leaking water from inside the package.

And suddenly, the hallways that was once so short became longer and longer. A never ending straightaway that only felt hotter and hotter with each step. My mind weighed me down. Pulling me into a spiral of negative thoughts and emotions. I began to believe I couldn’t do it. No, I knew I couldn’t do it.

No matter how much I wished, longed to do the only thing Harry, my best friend, my lover, had ever asked of me, I couldn’t physically continue. The bricks building finally reaching the maximum and breaking the camels back. This final request dealing my final blow. And each thought, each straining muscle crashing underneath it.

The crash was loud, when I went down. Knees hitting the floor, the sound of bones hitting concrete muffled by the squeak of water exploding throughout the thin passageway. The plastic breaking and the singular packages of the liquid bouncing around. Running off and away.

Only then did the panic reach an all time high. As if the severity of it couldn’t get worse. It did. My hands reaching out to grasp at any stray bottles. Holding them close to my chest. Keeping the few I could reach close to my body. I shook, unable to breathe suddenly.

Maybe it was the humidity, or the heat. Maybe it was another heat stroke. But no, to anyone passing by, or anyone who could have seen it from an outside perspective, it was clear that this was not the weather. This was deeper than that. This was pure panic. Something I’d buried for years all surfacing at once like a tsunami of pain washing over my lungs and drowning me in it.

A sob racked through my body, the cry escaping my clenched jaw with such force, my throat burned after. The rising nausea Id felt all morning turning out to only be a lump of anxiety that had grown ten times its size and finally escaped its cage.

Everything hurt, in that moment. My lungs on fire and my eyes crying themselves a river. The tips of my finger scratched at my throat. The only breaths that manages to get in and out being the gasps for air between each sob. I tried to grab my throat, grab my chest. Anything to make it easier to breathe. Yet, my hands were locked around the water like a vise. I couldn’t pry myself away from it if I had tried.

My head pounded, my body growing weaker, aching into less of a dull pain and more of a searing sensation pricking across my skin like pins and needles.

My ears were ringing, downing out everything other than the heaviness of my breathing and volume of my cries. So much so, I hadn’t heard the heavy footsteps rushing in my direction. I hadn’t seen Harry in a full sprint rushing to my aid.

No, in my full blown panic attack, I hadn’t even been able to process he was there with me until his fingers curled around my shoulders and his green eyes looked into mine.

I watched his mouth move rapidly, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Still unable to hear, eyes moving too fast to read his lips.

“H-Harry I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” I all but yelled. My breathing loud, sounding of a wheeze.

Even in my state, the dining intense and my body still burning, I understood he was doing his best to calm me. Familiar with the feelings that had overtaken my body.

In the mess, he has somehow managed to rip the water from my grasp. My hands flying to his shoulders, head buried between his shoulder and neck. His shirt wet with my tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The words came out like a prayer.

I’m sorry.

I didn’t know why I was sorry. Maybe for not doing my job I promised him. Maybe for adding stress to his already full plate. Maybe it was me convincing myself I was only becoming more of an inconvenience to him. Either way, I felt him shake his head.

“Don’t say that. No, stop apologizing. Fuck, stop it.” He begged gently, hands rubbing along my spine in an attempt to soothe me.

In some ways, it worked. The ringing fading into the background and my lungs becoming a little less tender. But the burning was still there and breathing was still a struggle.

I shook my head against his skin, eyes shut in embarrassment.

“I’ll pick it all up. I’ll clean everything that spilled. I’ll-I can fix this.” I pleaded, more for myself than for him. He held me tighter.

“No. No you won’t. It’s not your problem. Y/n, stop. Stop. Please, listen to me.” He sounded more stern than calm now. A different approach being taken to get me to snap out of it.

“Y/n you did everything you could and that was more than enough. You are more than enough. Please, believe me. Please, try to understand my perspective.” By now, my eyes were dry, all my tears used up. My breathing heavy but manageable. The gasps fading into soft hitches of breath from my intense sobbing.

“You promised me, you promised that you would stop doing this. Stop overworking yourself for the benefit of others. And I believed you, but I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have because I know you. I know you better than anyone here, so I know you’ll never change.” I looked at him through my eyelashes, slouching further into myself, I sat away from him. Head pulling itself off of his shoulder to face him.

“I’m so-“ He cut me off, not wanting to hear another apology slip past my lips.

“I wish. I wish you could see what I see. How everyone else sees you. How you’re more than enough even without all these extravagant attempts to ease our stress. Y/n, you do so much more for us in one week than we could ever hope to do in one year. You put yourself last in every single situation. You’re selfless and the most empathetic person I have ever had the privilege to know. You’re brave, a-and passionate about everyone. How can you not see that? That this enough? You just being here is enough?” It was like the roles were swapped. My eyes drying while Harry’s filled with tears. Filled to the brim along his waterline. He blinked them away, my thumb quick to find the few that fell past his eyelashes and wipe it from his skin.

“I wish I could promise you that I’ll change, Harry. I wish I could tell you I’ll never do this again, but if I’m completely honest, just for a second, I can’t do that. It’s like, my brain is wired specifically to aid to everyone else’s issues. I can’t rest until I’ve done everything I can, Harry. I just can’t. And my chest hurts. It physically hurts me not being able to make everyone happy. I just feel like I’m always doing something wrong. Like I’m disappointing everyone.” I ripped myself open completely with my confession, showing a vulnerability I hadn’t even had the courage to admit six inches away from a mirror.

“I don’t expect you to change, love. I just hope that one day, you’ll be able to see what we all see. What we all recognize everyday. That you’ll figure it out.” His hands held mine. His steady hands drilling my shaky ones.

My eyebrows furrowed into a sad expression, but it was a good sad. One that needed to be expressed.

“I love you.” It was quiet, barely a whimper. My throat dry and eyes puffy. He smiled, sighing softly. Not out of irritation, but admiration. A soft smile playing on his face.

“I love you more.”

In that moment I felt less of a failure and more like a success. Like ultimately, even if I had failed myself in more ways than I could possibly count out loud, ultimately, in some odd, twisted way, I had won. Guilt continued to eat at me and my stomach would always twist at the idea of letting someone down, but it was lesser than before. Being told I was more than enough sparked something small inside of my brain. I couldn’t promise to change, I couldn’t promise to stop overthinking and pushing myself down. But I knew I could get better. I could work on it. I know that, and I’m thankful for that.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #peoplepleaserpt2 #people pleaser #fine line lyrics #hslot harry #hslot23

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cupcakeslushie · 2 years

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I've actually been wondering something. How are birthdays with each brother? I assume Leo and Donnie don't get to celebrate theirs but I wonder if Mikey gets to celebrate his at all. Does Raph celebrate his alone or does Splinter also celebrate the other's as if they were there?

Yeah Leo and Donnie don’t really do birthdays until everyone reunites, and then they kinda just decide to share a birthday after all the jokes about them being twins.

Big Mama picked the day she found Mikey for his birthday and they always celebrated with a huge party, where Mikey had to dress in uncomfortable, itchy clothes and it was never really much fun, but at least he got cake. Splinter goes all out for Raph’s birthday, he makes yakiniku, mochi and a cake, and after they meet April, she’s always invited. After they get separated, the days of Leo and Mikey’s birthdays were a pretty solemn affair, and usually Splinter wouldn’t get up and out of bed until noon, and hobbled together a late breakfast for him and Raph. Splinter builds a small shrine in the dojo for both of the boys, and he and Raph spend some time in there, before choosing some sort of quiet activity where they can just sit together and maybe as Raph gets older, reminisce.

After they reunite, birthdays are insane. And the boys, Splinter and April spend all day together before crashing in a food coma.

When they first meet, Draxum has already briefed Three on Two’s involvement with the Shredder. Draxum was pretty shocked when he first discovered Two’s location after all these years, but he hid it well and ordered Three not to mention it outright. Instead he wanted Three to try and gauge how deep Two’s loyalty to the foot clan ran. In the year between them first meeting and Leo dissenting they probably only had the chance to interact five or six times, as Draxum’s dealings with Shredder were short, to the point meetings, every few months. But Three couldn’t help in the few times they did chat, to drive Leo crazy with how much he talked. So they didn’t really have a relationship, even with Three grabbing any connection he could and holding onto it for dear life. Leo saw their conversations as nothing more than Three rambling nonsensically, while he stood guard and tuned it out.

Before leaving the foot clan, Leo’s personality is pretty non-existent. He did what he was told and was just as ruthlessly efficient as his master. After rejoining his brothers he works on opening up, but it’s hard for him. Leo’s a pretty disciplined person, and the lair is pure chaos even before they bring Donnie home, so Leo’s often losing his cool over the smallest of things being out of order. He’s not used to the freedom, and it makes him uneasy and irritated constantly, which he, unfortunately, tends to take out on his bros and Splinter.

Leo’s attitude towards Three shifts somewhat, when he discovers who he really is, and Leo happens to be the biggest factor in bringing Donnie home for good. Add in the fact that he’s the only one Donnie has a previous link to, and it makes sense that he would gravitate to Leo the most. But it’s still very awkward because Leo just doesn’t know how to handle such an intense level of attention. Leo does try though—he likes being a big brother to Mikey, and is fine accepting the twin idea as long as it’s clear that he’s the older one. But their relationship doesn’t solidify until Leo messes up his sleep schedule and for lack of anything more entertaining, decides to spends his nights in the Donnie’s lab, watching his brother work. Sometimes they talk, and sometimes it’s just Donnie tinkering, but it breaks that awkwardness and gives them enough opportunity to be more real with each other. Eventually they get to a point where they can tease, and drive each other crazy in the same brotherly way they do in the show.

Also I just hit 5000 followers!! I just wanna reiterate how awesome this fandom is and how much I love y’all!!

#ask slushie #separated au #rottmnt #rottmnt separated au #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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rosie-b · 8 days

Text

True Blue

Chapter 14: The Balcony Scene, Reprise

Surprise!!! New chapter is out!

When he saw her, Adrien dropped the cookie he’d been about to eat.

“Bluewing!” he exclaimed. Then his expression hardened. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me? Trying to make me susceptible to an akuma? What’s your goal?”

Bluewing spread out her hands in a hopefully non-threatening gesture and lightly tossed her fan to the side of the room. It landed far away from Adrien, but he tracked its motion with an attentive glare.

“Hawk Moth doesn’t know I’m here,” Bluewing said.

You can read the rest on AO3 or below!

Throughout the rest of the school day, Marinette texted Adrien as often as she could. They never talked about anything serious; they traded jokes and memes and talked about safe topics, but there was an unspoken agreement between them to avoid mentioning the kiss or the nightmares they’d had. Last night had been awful enough, and they both needed time to recover before they could talk about it, even in daylight.

Marinette was grateful she had Adrien to distract her from the horrible new reality she’d wandered into. She’d told him about Nathalie leaving her job, and he’d expressed a similar confusion to hers. They’d spun out a few theories about what had happened before giving up and moving on when they realized all it was doing was making them feel helpless and a little angry, the perfect mix of emotions for an akuma to prey on.

Marinette didn’t want to think M. Agreste would akumatize his own son. He’d shown a lack of control over his akumas recently, though, and especially after her dream and finding out that Nathalie had left, she found herself less and less willing to trust M. Agreste as completely as she once had.

She didn’t want to think about what it meant if he was really the reason Nathalie had left. She didn’t want to consider the possibility that her nightmare’s warning was right, and Hawk Moth was not really the hero he tried to be.

So, she distracted herself while she half-heartedly filled out a few worksheets and pretended to understand the material she was supposed to teach herself. (Really, what kind of school day was this?)

When Adrien couldn’t respond to her during his classes, she found her mind wandering to Duusu’s strange behavior yesterday. She knew M. Agreste didn’t want her to talk to them, but Marinette was determined to heal the kwami so that it would be easier to communicate with them. It was only because of the broken Miraculous that Duusu was acting like they were, well, crazy, so if they could be healed? That should take care of the problem. Finally, Marinette would be able to interact with her kwami, if she could figure out a way to make this work.

Yes, it wasn’t just Marinette and Emilie that needed the potion’s magic, Duusu had to need it, too. However, as a semi-incorporeal being (from what she’d gathered), Duusu probably wouldn’t be able to heal just from exposure to the vial of potion. Marinette needed a better way to get the healing magic to affect the kwami. Well, since Duusu was linked to the Miraculous, which always existed in a physical form, then maybe healing the Miraculous would heal Duusu! In fact, if the potion could heal the Miraculous, maybe doing so would provide a once-and-for-all solution.

Maybe there was a way to make sure the broken Miraculous would never hurt another holder again.

With this goal in mind, Marinette waited until her scheduled study hours were almost over and then slipped into the atelier. She knew the safe’s password from watching M. Agreste punch it in so many times when he was retrieving the brooch to give her for a mission, so getting in was a breeze. The only problem was the fact that her actions would show up on the security cameras, but she wasn’t doing anything wrong exactly, and if Gabriel was busy finding a replacement for Nathalie, then he was probably too busy to check the camera feed until after Marinette had finished what she’d come here to do.

Marinette reached into the safe and took out the brooch. Her heart was racing, with memories of her first horrible time putting on the brooch plaguing her mind, but she had to do this. If she could just repair the brooch, Gabriel would probably let her keep it with her, right? She could hide it under her clothes, just like he did with his Miraculous! They’d never have to worry about a third incident like Dark Cupid’s or Sandboy’s ever again. She would always be able to help with akuma attacks, whether she was at home or in the mansion.

After all, what reason could be good enough for him to keep her from having the Miraculous once it was repaired and Duusu was safe to talk to?

Marinette took out the vial of potion she’d brought with her. Without Nathalie’s help, she only had a limited amount of supplies left. She’d be out soon, so she hoped her idea would work!

As she held the broken brooch steadily in front of her, Marinette uncapped the vial of potion and tipped it over. As a large, golden drop hit the cracks in the Miraculous, she firmed her belief that this healing attempt would work. It had to, or else she would be disobeying M. Agreste for no reason and harming herself in the process.

“This potion will work just as well as it worked for me,” she whispered, squeezing the brooch tightly and rubbing the potion into its cracks. “Miraculous, repair yourself!”

At first, nothing happened. However, after a short moment, a bright light surrounded the brooch. When it faded, no cracks could be seen in the brooch. It was just as good as new.

“It worked,” Marinette breathed, and a smile spread across her face. “It really worked!”

Now, she could only hope that this repair would be a permanent one. Otherwise, the Miraculous would not need to be healed after each time she used it.

Still, Marinette had a good feeling about the brooch’s healing. This time, she was sure she’d found a permanent solution. And she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Marinette wanted to pin the brooch on and talk to Duusu, to see if they were okay. Before doing that, though, she needed to talk to M. Agreste. It was nearly time for her training hour to start (for fashion, though recently, this time was more often used for an akuma attack), so all she had to do was wait for Gabriel to come down to the atelier.

While she waited, she locked the safe again, but kept the Miraculous with her. She’d need to show it to M. Agreste, otherwise, he’d never believe her.

Gabriel strolled into the room, frowning lightly, a few minutes later.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” he greeted her. “I apologize for being late. It is harder to find a competent secretary than it seems, these days. I plan to hire one young enough that I can train, anyway; interviews will begin before the hour is over. In the meantime, I...”

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the brooch sitting in the palm of Marinette’s hand. His eyes sharpened, and Marinette resisted the urge to flinch. It might not look like it now, but surely he’d realize what a helpful thing she’d accomplished for him.

“Marinette. What is that,” he snarled rather than asked.

She raised her chin and lifted the brooch higher for him to see.

“It’s Duusu’s Miraculous. I repaired it with a drop of my potion, and now the cracks are gone. The negative side effects of using it should be gone entirely now.”

Gabriel fell back a step. “What? But how?”

Marinette smirked. “I told you, sometimes a solution really can’t be found, and sometimes you just have to create it. With any luck, even Duusu’s madness should be gone now. I’m sorry for opening the safe without your permission, but it was for a good cause, just like your akuma attacks. The Miraculous is completely safe now, which means that with your permission, I’d like to take it home with me. I can hide it with a scarf, the way you hide your own brooch, and no one will question my fashion choices, so no one will find out that I’m Bluewing. What do you think?”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, taking the brooch from Marinette’s hands and examining it closely. After a moment, he cautiously pinned the Miraculous on, and Duusu spiraled out of it.

“Whee! Oh, Master Gabriel, it’s good to see you again! It’s been so long; your hair is gray now! Oh, the years passed by like a long nightmare. How are you— oh! There’s another person here, too!” Duusu flew over to Marinette, squinting. “Do I remember you? You look familiar.”

“She is your current holder, Duusu; I am only borrowing your Miraculous. Only speak to her if you need to, and do not lead her astray.”

With those words, Gabriel unpinned the brooch, and Duusu vanished. He turned the Miraculous over, frowning at it. Then he slowly handed the brooch back to Marinette, who looked up at him questioningly.

“Well?”

“It appears to be fixed,” Gabriel admitted. “Still, I have reason to be concerned. Not the least of which because you know the password to my safe; I will need to change it before the interviews begin. You think you can take the Miraculous with you and keep it hidden?”

“Yes,” Marinette responded immediately. “In fact, I think it’s the wisest thing for us to do right now. Now you can create an akuma at any time and I’ll be able to help you. Just let me know before you do, and make sure to keep the akumas away from Adrien and me.”

Gabriel didn’t speak, instead staring at the picture of Emilie behind Marinette.

She wet her lips and tried again. “This gives us an advantage, M. Agreste. I want to help you save Emilie before it’s too late, and with the brooch, I can do that more reliably and faster than I could if it stayed in the mansion. Won’t you please consider it?”

Gabriel’s expression was muted, as if he was far away from the room and Marinette and the brooch that had killed his wife.

“She deserved better than this,” he whispered. “It’s all the fault of that kwami, you know. She led Emilie astray, made her think creating a sentimonster with two amoks was safe to do. I lost my wife before Adrien was even born.”

He snapped to attention, staring directly into Marinette’s eyes with a cold gaze.

“You may keep the brooch for now. But don’t talk to the kwami,” he ordered. “And don’t tell Adrien a word about this. I’m taking a big chance in trusting you, Marinette. Do not compromise our mission by giving secrets away to the boy; he is too emotional, like his mother. He cannot be trusted with knowledge of the Miraculous. Do not let him get near the brooch; do not give him his amok. I will not permit his presence to interfere with my mission again. Understood?”

Marinette frowned. “Understood, sir. I wasn’t going to tell him, anyway.”

Gabriel nodded, satisfied, and dismissed her. As the Gorilla escorted her back to the bakery, Marinette wondered what Gabriel meant by not letting Adrien interfere again. He hadn’t done so before, right?

On top of that, though she was pleased she was trusted with the brooch now, Marinette was offended on Adrien’s behalf. He was not too emotional; he was kind and caring and sweet, not weak or given to whims. She trusted him. Marinette wanted to tell him everything about the brooch, about his mother and the reason Hawk Moth wanted the Miraculous, about the reason she was so possessive of the ring she wore on her finger.

Unless there was something Gabriel wasn’t telling her, Marinette saw absolutely no reason not to trust Adrien or Duusu.

Furthermore, she was sure Duusu hadn’t planned on killing Emilie. Duusu was already protective of Marinette and seemed completely loyal to their holders even while they were driven crazy by their Miraculous; why would they be worse now that they’d been healed? No, Marinette was sure that she could trust them.

She hated to think it, but Marinette trusted Gabriel even less now. She needed to know that he wasn’t lying, that he wasn’t just keeping her in the dark about Adrien and Emilie’s fate and the other people who’d been affected by Duusu’s poisoned brooch.

She needed to know that this was really the right thing for Adrien. After all, if Emilie was too far gone for the potion to heal her, as Gabriel thought (and as might be true, if it hadn’t helped her yet) then what good would stealing the Miraculous do? Was a Wish really powerful enough to bring back the dead?

It must be. The mission had to be the right thing to do; Gabriel had planned it for years, it couldn’t be as ill-thought-through as his akuma last night had been. He knew what he was doing.

Marinette still wanted some kind of reassurance, though. And while she had the brooch, she had an idea of where she could get it.

She transformed as soon as she got up to her room.

Bluewing didn’t want to cause a disruption like she had last time she went out without an akuma, so she stuck to the alleyways and rooftops high enough that no one would spot her as she made her way back to the Agreste mansion.

Then, knowing that Adrien would have just gotten back from fencing practice, she leapt down to his windowsill and slid in through the window she found left ajar.

When he saw her, Adrien dropped the cookie he’d been about to eat.

“Bluewing!” he exclaimed. Then his expression hardened. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me? Trying to make me susceptible to an akuma? What’s your goal?”

“Hawk Moth doesn’t know I’m here,” Bluewing said. “I’m not stalking you, I’m not trying to get you akumatized, and my goal is... mostly unrelated to my normal one. Kind of.”

Adrien kept glaring and crossed his arms.

“Just hear me out, okay? I know the public thinks I’m a villain; I would have, too, before I knew what I know now about Hawk Moth and his mission. But I promise, there is a good reason for what we’re doing. We’re doing the best we can—”

“The best you can at being evil,” Adrien muttered.

Bluewing’s heart broke a little at his words.

“No! I’m not evil, and I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it would help people more than it hurts them! Please, I just, I need to explain myself to someone and know that at least one person thinks I’m doing the right thing. Please listen to me!”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You’ll tell me all about why you and Hawk Moth are terrorizing Paris? Even give me your secret identity?”

Bluewing huffed. “Not that. But I... think you might be more likely to understand than most. You see, Hawk Moth lost someone important to him. He needs a Wish to heal h— them.”

“I see why that would hurt,” Adrien said. “And I think I know why you came to me now. But lots of people lose someone. There’s nothing you can really do about it except hold onto their memory and move on with your life. It sounds like Hawk Moth is just trying to escape reality, but he can’t. And neither can you.”

Bluewing swallowed. “I understand. But it wasn’t a normal loss. You see, there was more than one person affected. And the problem wasn’t natural, or even a plane crash or war or something. It was my brooch,” she said, tapping the Miraculous on her chest.

Adrien’s eyes widened. “What? Wait, you’re telling me there are other Peacock holders out there?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Well, only a couple are alive. They used its full power after it was broken, which slowly poisoned them, and... it’s not good. Even I was affected, before I figured out how to repair the brooch. You might notice my unsteadiness in some older Goldenblog videos—”

“You’re telling me that Hawk Moth forced you to wield a broken Miraculous, slowly poison yourself, and possibly die while knowing exactly what was going to happen?” Adrien interrupted, practically yelling. He sounded furious, angrier than Marinette had ever heard him before. His fists were tightly clenched, and his face was twisted with rage.

Bluewing flinched. “Yes, no, I volunteered,” she babbled. “I found out about the brooch by accident and put it on. He had no choice but to tell me about the Miraculous, especially after I figured out that he was Hawk Moth. He explained his mission to me and gave me medicine to hold off the poison for a while. Since I was already affected and he clearly needed help fighting both Golden Bug and Chat Grise, I offered to become Bluewing. He didn’t force me. I hope that shows that his cause is good,” she added meekly.

Adrien’s expression softened, but not by much. “Prove it,” he demanded. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Okay, the medicine doesn’t work entirely. Without a Wish, everyone who used the brooch is doomed to die, slowly and painfully. Some already have died, and their spouses were left all alone to raise the children that they...”

Marinette hesitated. She wasn’t sure how much to say. This visit hadn’t been planned, after all. She had to stop acting so impulsively!

“The people that they... what?” Adrien prompted, sitting down on his couch. He looked up at her with an open expression, but his eyes tracked every movement she made, as if she’d strike at any moment.

Bluewing rubbed her arm. She knew she technically shouldn’t tell Adrien about the senti-children, but she wouldn’t be disobeying Gabriel’s orders if she only told him the basics without revealing that Adrien himself was a senti, right? Besides, Marinette had wanted to tell Adrien about this from the beginning. If she could at least lay the groundwork for him to understand his origins later, when she was allowed to tell him about them, that would accomplish something good.

She looked at Adrien, determined to tell him some of the truth she knew he was entitled to.

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but this is going to sound weird. Um, and it takes some getting used to, but that’s okay! So,” she said, nervously twisting her pointer finger back and forth, “As you probably noticed, I’ve never used my Miraculous’ real power. There’s a good reason for that, or else I would have been more help against Golden and Grise!”

Adrien watched, his face dubious, as she tapped the brooch pinned to her chest.

“See, this is the Miraculous of emotion, and with it, you can create life. Whatever kind of being you want, with whatever power you want. The magic goes into an amok, which holds the sentibeing’s life force, and it can be used to control them, though that shouldn’t happen. The Peacock has a very dangerous power, and it needs to be used extremely carefully. Well, the past few holders used it to create their own children. So, senti-humans, which are mostly just like normal people. Instead of IVF, they were created with magic. Kinda cool, right?”

Adrien gaped at her. “Senti-humans? You mean, like, they’re real humans, or do they have powers? Are they immortal, or do they die easily? How easy it is to break their amoks? Are they a threat to Golden Bug and Chat Grise? You— you said their amoks control them? How is that possible?”

Bluewing tried her best to respond. “They’re just like real humans, as far as I know. I’ve met one, and he’s just the same as every other boy. I think they have normal, human life spans, since they were created to be humans. I don’t know how easy it is to break their amoks, but I protect the one I have with my life. They’re not threats to Golden Bug or Chat Grise, any more than you are. And no one should ever control them. Senti-humans deserve the same rights and respect as normal-origin humans. That’s why I don’t use my power. I’m terrified of abusing it; that would make me the monster.”

“I see,” Adrien said thoughtfully. “I’m glad you aren’t abusing your Miraculous, at least. But I’m not convinced about this Wish; are you sure it’s the only way? Wouldn’t it have repercussions of its own?”

Bluewing crossed her arms defensively. “As far as I know, there are no side effects.”

Adrien brought a hand up to his chin, considering. “How about the akuma attacks? How can you justify the chaos, the damage? What happens when you win and Golden Bug can’t repair everything Hawk Moth’s akuma did? And the victims who get akumatized, how can you be okay with manipulating them if you’re hesitant to do the same thing with your brooch’s powers?”

“Oh, Hawk Moth asks them for permission before he akumatizes them,” Bluewing said, happy that she had an answer ready for this.

Adrien did not look convinced. “Even the baby? The toddlers? Are you sure that he asks them all, every time? Do you see him do it?”

“W-well,” Marinette faltered. “I don’t see it every time. I did witness it once or twice, but usually I’m already busy getting transformed and heading out to help. Um, but he did ask the baby! That’s what he said, at least.” Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, and she fought the urge to fidget nervously.

“You don’t sound very sure about that,” Adrien noted. “Are you sure Hawk Moth isn’t lying to you? Because there’s no way the trauma he’s given this city can just be erased. We won’t forget what he’s done to us. And I really doubt that a baby can give consent to becoming a villain’s accomplice. Would it even know what the words Hawk Moth spoke to it mean?”

Bluewing steadied herself. “Hawk Moth wouldn’t lie to me,” she said defensively.

But as Adrien glared accusingly at her, she found herself reminded of Emilie’s warning last night. Don’t trust Gabriel.

It wasn’t real. It was just a dream, she told herself.

“Look, I can’t vouch for everything he’s ever done. But I’ve seen the damage a broken Miraculous can do, and I’ve seen the pain of losing someone to things you can’t understand or explain. I know the only way to set things right is to use the Wish, and since Golden and Grise won’t give us their Miraculous even after Hawk Moth explained the situation to them and asked nicely, we have no choice but to use the akumas to get the Wish.”

Adrien stood up. “Really? There’s no other way? And yet Golden Bug and Chat Grise, who know more about their Miraculous and what they can do than you or Hawk Moth, still think a Wish isn’t worth it. They’re not giving you their Miraculous, ever, and all you can do by continuing to fight is cause more harm to Paris. So, maybe you should just give up.”

Bluewing frowned at Adrien. Hadn’t she just explained why she needed to keep fighting for the Miraculous? A Wish couldn’t possibly be as bad as Golden Bug and Chat Grise thought it would be. They were just selfish! Jealous of other people who could use their power to do more good than they ever could!

Meanwhile, Adrien kept talking, gesturing earnestly as he did.

“Take my friend Marinette, for example; she’s the most creative person I know. She’s always doing things I think are impossible, but even she has her limits. Look, it sucks that people got hurt because they used a broken Miraculous. But if they’re dead, they’re dead. You can’t just go around making exceptions to the laws of nature for people you like. If I was going after this Wish, for example, what makes my mother so different from the girl whose father died of cancer, or from the person who got infected while swimming and died from a parasite infection? What makes anyone more worth saving than anyone else? Nothing. But if we just bring back everyone we love who dies, the order of the world is broken. Life is beautiful, but it isn’t complete without death, as much as that sucks.”

Fear squeezed Bluewing in a tight vise. This was not the way she’d wanted this visit to go. Adrien had to be wrong; they were doing this for the right reasons! The Miraculous shouldn’t have killed its wielders! Adrien deserved his mother!

...More than anyone else who’d lost a parent?

“Another thing,” Adrien continued, “I wouldn’t trust anything Hawk Moth tells you about Golden Bug and Chat Grise. He hates them. I doubt he ever tried reasoning with them. I think he attacked before bothering to ask for the Miraculous; otherwise, why did he make his demand during Stormy Weather’s akumatization? He wouldn’t have needed to if he’d explained his situation to the heroes first.”

“You must be wrong,” Bluewing fought back weakly. “I know him. He’s a good man. He’s doing this for his son, for his family. And for others, too. This is the only way.”

Adrien frowned. “Sure. But I have just one more question before you leave, then. When you first put on the brooch, did you actually transform with it? Or did you not know how to? You’d only just discovered it, right?”

Bluewing nodded slowly. “Right, I only pinned it on. I wasn’t sure how to transform yet,” she confirmed, feeling her stomach churn uneasily. “Why do you ask?”

Adrien stared at her for a second, looking sympathetic for once. “Just wondering,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot. I don’t blame you for it, but if you ask me, Hawk Moth has been pulling your strings. My advice is to leave him while you still can. I think you knew the truth once. It’s time to rediscover it.”

Bluewing had no idea what to say, but it seemed that Adrien was done with the conversation. He guided her over to the window by her elbow, making it clear that it was time for her to leave.

Well, it’s probably for the best, Bluewing thought as she waved nervously, said goodbye, and ducked through the window. This meeting was a hot mess, anyway.

__*__*__*__*__

That evening, she sat alone on her balcony, fuming as she tried to work through Adrien’s words and how her visit had gone so wrong. Hawk Moth wasn’t lying to her! He might hide some things, but that was fine. Everyone had a right to privacy! And the baby might not understand words, but it could understand tones! Plus, the show during Stormy Weather was mostly for the public’s benefit, so they would understand what Hawk Moth was doing and what he was after, so they’d be less afraid of his akumas once they knew the akumas were only after Golden Bug and Chat Grise.

Marinette forced herself to stop thinking about it. Any more hard thinking, and she’d get a headache from all the stress.

Well, a headache was coming her way, regardless, in the form of one yellow-suited hero.

Marinette didn’t even have the energy left to react when Golden Bug landed on her balcony.

He raised his brows at her lack of reaction and hummed.

“You know, normally the only people to give me such a cold welcome are akumas,” he commented. “What’s bothering you, Marinette?”

She groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

I need to respond normally, or he’ll know something’s up, she fretted.

But he already suspected something was up, so she shrugged as she looked at him and said, “Everything. Nothing. It’s been a bad day, but I’ll be fine, I swear. So, you don’t need to watch over me for akumas. Go on with patrol, or whatever.”

Golden Bug frowned, apparently not convinced by her display (and honestly, who would be?). “You don’t seem okay. And what kind of hero would I be if I left innocent civilians alone when they’re vulnerable to being akumatized?”

Marinette sharply looked away. “Not much of one, I guess.”

Golden Bug sounded cheerful as he responded, “Great! Then it looks like I’m staying until you feel better. Glad we agree.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. Slowly, she slid her gaze to the left, where Golden Bug stood. She’d walked right into that one!

Leaning against the balcony railing, Golden Bug shot Marinette a grin. “So, what can this hero do to help? Antenna me what’s wrong.”

All Marinette could do was stare at him. Golden Bug seemed a little too invested in her mental health right now. Or was he?

He’d rescued her from her nightmare last night. He cared deeply about all the citizens of Paris, she had to admit that. Even back when she was targeted by Evillustrator, Golden Bug had gone above and beyond to make sure she was okay! This visit was probably just a normal check-up for him, another way for him to take care of the people he sincerely thought he was protecting from Hawk Moth.

Marinette found herself fighting a blush as she realized that Golden Bug was taking time out of his day to check on her, not because he suspected her of villainy, the way she’d thought he was the first time he did it, but because he genuinely wanted to! He cared about her.

Not like that. But still!

So, she offered him a smile and sat down on her chair to talk to him. The least she could do right now was be as kind to him as he was to her.

“Well, I still don’t need therapy,” she said, watching as Golden Bug seemed to relax at her willingness to talk. “So don’t bother putting on that silly mustache again.”

Golden Bug smirked. “Really? But I need it; it’s part of my charm!”

Marinette rolled her eyes affectionately. “As if.”

She paused, remembering that none of her current problems were really safe to share with the person in front of her. Doing that would be more likely to land her in a prison cell than make him leave.

“I guess I just still feel like a failure,” she admitted in a low voice. “Every time I think I’m making progress, it’s one step forward and two steps back. I just want to help people, like you do! But I end up feeling powerless and confused. I just need a win, you know?”

Golden Bug hummed. “I know. Believe me, the public might thank me for my help against Hawk Moth, but I still feel like I’ve never won against him. Every battle is a lost opportunity to take his Miraculous back and end his reign of terror. Each time he gets away and I don’t even get a lead, I...” He clenched his fist and looked away. “I also feel like a failure. Like I’m buckling under all the pressure on me. And, I don’t know, maybe we are a pair of failures. But I try to remember that every step forward really is progress, even if it feels like you slide back two steps afterwards. We can learn from our failures. Me, I’m always learning how to protect my Miraculous from Hawk Moth better. I can’t let him make that Wish, or else the entire world will be rewritten, and who knows what will be lost!”

Marinette stiffened. “What?”

Golden Bug looked over at her, his expression cooler than butter as he raised an eyebrow.

“What are you confused by? That’s pretty much my job description.”

“The Wish, you said it would rewrite the world? I thought it would be more like a wish from a genie,” she said, trying to laugh her comment off.

“Well,” Golden Bug said in an ironic tone, “You still have to be careful with those. You never get exactly what you wish for. And yes, a Wish made with Grise’s and my Miraculous would lead to this world being restarted, remade from scratch. Forget one little detail, and people, or entire civilizations, could be wiped from existence. A Wish needs to be worded perfectly, which is an impossible goal. There’s a price to pay for it, too. For example, if you use a Wish to bring someone back to life, someone else will be killed. The world’s balance is delicate; even a Wish can’t tilt it too far.”

Marinette gasped, feeling tears sting her eyes. Emilie. The other parents. Healing the survivors would injure others? Bringing back the ones who died... would doom others to take their place in death?

The shock was nearly too much to bear.

Did Gabriel know about this? He couldn’t have, or he would have told her.

Maybe Golden Bug is wrong, Marinette thought desperately.

“How do you know that?” she asked quickly, nearly tripping over her words. “Are you sure that’s what would happen?”

Golden Bug’s face was solemn as he nodded. “It’s the truth. That’s what the Guar— that’s what the man who entrusted me with my Miraculous told me.”

The man who gave him his Miraculous? The Guardian. The one who refused Gabriel’s first pleas, who lied to Golden Bug and Chat Grise and sent them out to fight a grown man!

Marinette clenched her jaw. There was no way the Guardian had told Golden Bug the truth about this. It had to be one of his lies!

Relief shot through Marinette, and she relaxed back in the chair, not having realized until then that she’d sat up in her panic.

“That’s horrible,” she commented. “I’m glad you and Chat Grise are doing your best to make sure that won’t happen.” I’m sorry the Guardian lied to you. I’m sorry you’re trapped in his service.

For some reason, Golden Bug blinked at her. “I’m, uh, happy to serve.”

Marinette smiled at him. “Well, thanks for stopping by! I feel a lot better now. Do you want a cookie or something before you leave?”

Golden Bug tilted his head. “Uh, sure? Thank you. Hey, are you sure you’re okay now? Last night had to have been difficult for you. It’s okay if you’re still affected by it.”

“I’m okay, really. I just have to keep pushing forward. I’ll get there eventually!”

Marinette considered her words for a moment. Something was missing.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ll catch Hawk Moth soon! Try throwing him off again. Do something unpredictable, like, maybe trade Miraculous with Chat Grise for a few days again? Practice so he can’t throw you off if you’re attacked while you have the wrong Miraculous, I don’t know.”

It wasn’t the best advice, but it wasn’t horrible, either. And if he wound up taking it? It would provide the perfect opportunity for her and Hawk Moth. They just had to strike soon, before Golden Bug and Chat Grise could get used to using their partner’s Miraculous.

A hum startled Marinette from her thoughts.

“I’ll think about it,” Golden Bug responded. “Grise and I will have to discuss it together before we do anything. We’re partners, you know? It’s not fair if one of us makes the decisions for both of us. I value what she has to say.”

“Oh, of course,” Marinette responded immediately. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from the two of you. You work really well together.”

“Thanks!” Golden Bug said with a smile. He looked surprised and pleased by the compliment.

Marinette smiled back at him. Even if he was her enemy, and she was trying to get over him still, she had to admit that he looked cute when he was flustered.

“So,” she started to say, “If you still want something from the bakery, you can just—”

She was cut off by her phone vibrating in her pocket, which startled her into jumping from the chair. When she pulled the phone out of her pocket, she saw that she was getting a call, and when she saw the caller ID, her eyes widened.

“It’s M. Agreste,” she told Golden Bug. “He might have news about school or my internship; I have to take this!”

Golden Bug nodded, quickly said goodbye, and swung away from her balcony.

Marinette accepted the call. “Hello?”

“Marinette.” Gabriel’s voice came through crisply. “I have finished selecting a new secretary. She won’t start until Monday, so I have decided to akumatize my next champion today, while we have time to kill. I have my eyes on someone in the 15th arrondissement. Transform quickly and begin making your way over. Does that sound acceptable to you?”

Marinette nodded and then stuttered out a confirmation when she realized M. Agreste couldn’t see her. “Y-yeah, yesh, yes it does!”

“Good,” M. Agreste said. “You don’t have to report back to the mansion unless you think it’s necessary. I’ll be in contact.”

He hung up, and Marinette gulped. This would be the first real test of the potion’s power!

Reaching under her overshirt, she unpinned the brooch and held it up to check for cracks.

There was nothing, not even a scratch!

Marinette smiled as she pinned the brooch back on, checked for Golden Bug or any leftover paparazzi still hoping for a scoop on Adrien’s ‘girlfriend,’ and transformed.

Things were finally looking up.

#bluewing au #true blue #ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #miraculous ladybug #kwami swap

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