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cinnamon-galaxies · 26 days

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Unspoken Feelings

Pairings: Alastor x gn!Reader

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader, tension, lots of tension, unspoken feelings, hurt but also comfort?, Alastor is bad at feelings, inner conflict, suppressed feelings, does the ending count as (light) angst?, bittersweet ending, I'm bad at tagging

Summary: Loving you is hard, but being with you is harder. And being with Alastor is dangerous.

Wordcount: 1.9k

A/N: This one is very short compared to my other fic but full of (heartbreaking) tension.

*****

{Masterlist}

───*✱*.｡:｡*✱*.:｡.*✧*.:｡*✰*｡:.*✧*.｡:.*✱*｡: ｡.*✱*───

You sat at the grand piano in the dimly lit lounge of the hotel. Your fingers glided gracefully across the keys, seamlessly transitioning between the notes with a captivating elegance. With closed eyes you surrendered to the enchanting melody, completely entranced by its spell. Your soft voice sang along, a subtle sound that harmonized with heartbreaking lyrics of the ballad that had such a special place in your heart, reminding you of bittersweet moments and cherished dreams.

Alastor sat not far from you in an armchair with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His crimson eyes remained fixed on you, captivated by your fervent performance that fully caught his attention. Though he heard you play before he had never witnessed such a fiery passion put into the music that came from your fingers. Your singing voice was enchanting, echoed from the high ceiling like a siren’s song casting a spell on every person who could hear you. It was as though you were revealing a concealed message and opening your heart to whatever you had in mind.

He closed his eyes while he let himself get bewitched by your spell, fully succumbing to your beautiful performance. Were you even aware that he was watching you? Listened to you singing and playing like a muse? He didn’t know it but also he didn’t care as long as you kept playing and filled the hole in his heart with the sound of your song, as a clenching feeling tugged on his stomach, clouded by a pang of longing. He knew exactly what he felt right now. How he felt about you, but expressing those emotions was a different story. He wasn’t good at feelings, let alone at admitting them. It was hard to even admit them to himself, just to begin with. He found himself caught up in denial for far too long and had blamed it on his mind playing tricks on him – he even preferred to diagnose himself as mentally ill than to just accept the fact that he had grown fond of you. Way too fond.

That he started longing for you.

Loved you.

Love.

He let out a dismissive laugh that was far too quiet for you to hear over the sound of the piano.

Love was a feeling he had never felt before. At least not in this way. He had loved his mother unconditionally. She had been the closest and dearest person to him that ever existed in his whole lifetime. And there were other people who were close to him and who he cared about. A lot. But nothing like this could be compared to what he felt in your presence. What feelings you evoke deep inside of him as he looked you in the eyes, felt your lingering gaze on him, listened to you talk and laugh with all your heart. The way his thoughts about you occupied his every breath and kept him awake at night because otherwise if he closed his eyes all he could see was your beautiful face haunting his mind like a tormenting ghost. Oh sweet hells, he even dreamed about you. Was this really the love people were so obsessed with and that was considered the most beautiful thing in the world? There was no way he could comprehend this; no matter how hard he tried. You possessed his every thought and made him question his sanity. It was an uncomfortable feeling that tugged on him, almost completely tore him apart. He hated it. But yet he didn’t want to miss it.

He opened his eyes again, watching your graceful silhouette moving in front of the grand piano and couldn’t help himself but smile contendly, his eyes glowing with sparks of joy. Though no matter how many feelings of happiness tingled in his guts, he felt heartbroken at the same time. Your relationship has always been complicated. You danced around each other, both too far to take the leap. There was so much on you that Alastor admired. Your view on life and your admiration for the smaller things. The way you animatedly gestured around while you told him a story and how your eyes sparkled with anticipation whenever you were about to do the things you adored the most. He admired your creativity and your talent, the passion you put into your music when you played one of your instruments and used your powerful voice to sing along. The way you danced with him as if you were a graceful swan. He also admired your strength and independence, your self-confidence, your stubbornness, your abnormal sense of humor and psychotic tendencies that always reminded him that you were in hell for a reason. He admired the way you weren’t afraid to show off your insanity, even implemented some of your sickest fantasies on hell’s worst spawns. He admired you.

Alastor took a sip of his whiskey. His thoughts made him sound like a fool – an immature and cheesy teenager – whenever he tried to unravel the clot that every oh so normal person considered love.

By now he was aware that he himself had become a victim of this cruel but also beautiful torture. But no matter how confident he was of his actions his own demons held him back to fully committing to you and the feelings he harbored in his chest, carefully tucked away in a heart shaped box. He was everything but a saint. He’d never be enough for you because he knew that he would never change. All he could give you was sorrow and pain and if there was one thing he didn’t want you to bear, it was you suffering from his incapabilities of being the lover you deserved.

The song came to an end and that was when Alastor noticed that he had swallowed his whole drink within the shortest amount of time. Not good, as he already felt the effects of the alcohol starting to cloud his senses.

Through the corner of his eye he saw you move and when he turned his face towards you, you caught him by surprise as he met your gaze. Time stood still for a short moment, his heart pounded in his chest as he returned your startled gaze. You obviously hadn’t been aware of his presence until now.

Alastors smile widened in amusement at your dumbfounded expression but he didn’t laugh. Instead, his voice was calm and smooth as he said, “That was quite the performance, my dear.”

You forced yourself to smile, trying hard to hide your embarrassment in front of him – unsuccessfully. What a cute sight, Alastor thought but shook off the thought as soon as it entered his mind.

“Thank you, Alastor,” you responded to him, your voice much more confident than your startled body language expressed. A wave of reassurance overcame you and you calmed down, recovering from the surprise of your unexpected listener. “It’s always nice to have a captive audience. Even though I would’ve preferred to be aware of it,” you then added with a soft voice, a genuine smile forming on your lips.

Alastor chuckled softly. “Well, consider me captivated, indeed.”

The room became silent for a moment as you and Alastor exchanged glances, the air heavy with unspoken words. There was a moment of silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgement of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface. Alastor knew he had to say something, to break the tension between you, but the words caught in his throat, unable to be spoken out loud. It was one of those moments when he should have risen from his seat and approached you, embracing your delicate presence and pulling you in a tender kiss. It was what he had dreamed about for weeks, one of those perfect moments that needed no words but mere actions to confess your feelings for each other. There was no doubt that you felt the same for him. Alastor knew that you returned his feelings (at least in some similar way). You had to. Otherwise you would have acted differently in his presence, less nervous, less attentive in his personal needs, less affectionate. You would’ve maintained less eye contact with him, not lingering your gaze longer on him than necessary and not secretly stealing glances. Yes, he knew about it but not only because he could feel it when he was watched, but also because people had told him. Not only Charlie had tried to confront him about the supposed ‘tension’ between the both of you, but also Angel couldn’t help but joke loudly about it. Alastor was told how much you smiled in his presence, how much more vivid you behaved in his presence, that subtle tries of yours to catch his attention without raising suspicion. Well, your attempt to remain inconspicuous seemed to have failed – at least in the eyes of the other residents. If no one had told Alastor about it and he wouldn’t have spent time actively paying attention to your changes in behavior around him, he would have never noticed. Never guessed it. You were truly bad at concealing your feelings. Did you even try?

Normally Alastor would’ve laughed at this thought. But in this moment there was nothing to laugh about as the tension between you burned with a subtle passion, drawing the both of you to each other in an unspoken longing.

You loved him at least as much as he loved you.

You wanted him at least as much as he wanted you.

And you needed him at least as much as he needed you.

At least that’s what Rosie had told him when he had spent a whole afternoon conversing with her about that peculiar demoness that made him feel things he never thought possible. But yet, Alastor remained in his armchair, returning your loving expression with unveiled eyes. His breath was heavy and his heart pounded in his chest like a drum on a battlefield.

Oh, how much he wanted to touch you.

To get close to you.

To hug you.

To kiss you.

To make him his. For the rest of eternity.

But he knew his inner demons would show you no mercy. That he would just hurt you to a point of no return. And that was something he was determined not to allow under any circumstances. Something he would never forgive himself for. And he would hurt you. He knew that.

Alastor felt a lump building in his throat and held his breath as it was too painful to continue breathing with that pressure clenching his chest.

The both of you stood there for a moment longer, staring at each other but remained in your unmoved state, silently confessing to each other without a spoken word.

Without making a sound Alastor stood up, his hand wrapped tightly around his empty whiskey glass, knuckles whitening under the pressure. He offered you a small, toothless smile before turning around to leave. His heart was heavy from unspoken desires and the pain of his decision tore his heart into shreds as he left you alone. The door swung close behind him and Alastor couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss wash over him. He knew that loving you was hard. And being without you was even harder.

Cruel.

But it was for the best.

He could never love you the way he wanted to – the way you deserved it. And if protecting you meant tearing himself apart in the most gruesome ways possible, so it should be.

*****

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aphroditelovesu · 10 months

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The Lost Queen

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader

— word count: 686.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Prologue

Your heart was pounding fast inside your chest, your breath wasted as you ran desperately across the desert of Gedrosia. It didn't matter that you were going to die of sunstroke, thirst or hunger, you wanted to escape. You desperately wanted to leave this place, run away from the people who were chasing you and didn't seem to want to leave you alone from the moment you woke up bewildered in this... World, at this time.

Your only advantage at this point was distance, but you knew they would catch up to you eventually. Your back ached and was still dried with blood from the punishment he had meted out after your last escape attempt. He thought that way you'd learn not to challenge him again, but he didn't seem to know you weren't the quitting type.

You wouldn't give him the taste of victory. He wouldn't have you, at least not alive.

You groaned in pain and frustration as your legs gave out and you fell into the hot desert area. You looked around and all you saw was blue sky and sand and more sand. You were lost.

Tears of frustration fell from your eyes and wet your chiton. You knew you should stop crying and save what was left of liquid inside your body, but you couldn't. Months of despair, terror and witnessing the atrocities committed came to your mind and your eyes were filled with tears. He did this to you. They did this to you.

You hated him, you hated them all. It didn't matter that they were kind and welcoming to you at first, a complete stranger, none of that mattered because they ruined you. They could have fed you, given you clothes and a bed when you were lost but that didn't matter anymore... Not after everything you went through, what you experienced in those months with them.

You tried to get up but your legs ached and your bare feet burned when you tried to stand. A snarl escaped your lips and with a lot of effort you went back to walking through the vastness that surrounded you. You would die. You were sure of it, if not for the desert at his hand.

You preferred the first option. Even if dying of thirst, hunger, heat or cold is bad... You knew you were better than you dared to think about what they would do as soon as they laid their hands on your body. Fuck, you'd rather rot than allow yourself to be touched by him again. He would never lay hands on you again, you mentally swore to yourself.

You cursed the heavens as you felt your vision darken, your body weak and in need of sustenance. You knew you couldn't walk any further, your legs burned with every step you took and your vision grew darker and darker.

Your eyes struggled to open when you heard the sounds of horses approaching and you cursed yourself and kept trying to walk, but it was too painful. He was close. You screamed in frustration as your body gave out and you were forced to sit on the hot sands. You couldn't go any further, you didn't have the strength.

Your tears fell once more as the noise of voices and horses approached you.

''That was it,'' you thought as you choked on your tears. You prayed to whatever gods were listening but your prayers went unanswered. Your eyes closed as you felt a horse neigh loudly behind you and then its rider descended. Your skin shivered as he touched you, taking your aching body in his arms.

''I found you.'' He purred, touching your face gently with his callused, battle-scarred hands.

You didn't respond and just let him carry you on his lap and you didn't even react when he forced you to mount the stallion in front of you and you ignored the presence of his generals. Those who were once like your friends.

He would always find you. Alexander the Great would never let you go. He would never let his Queen escape.

— lady l: so this was the prologue to a fanfic I'll be writing about one of the greatest conquerors in history. I will take historical liberties in that, nothing here will be historically accurate all the time. I hope you like it and feel free to give feedback or if you just want to talk about the fanfic or anything else. If you want to be tagged just ask, love you all and take care! ❤️

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great x reader #fanfiction #long fic #the lost queen

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

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Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): explicit language, suggestive themes, kissing, romantic tension

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Part Six of Ink & Needle

You and Simon come face to face inside Dancing Faun.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

“Ready to go, Bravo?”

Simon shrugs on his coat and glances at the German Shepard. Bravo’s nails clack clack against the floor of the tattoo parlor as he takes a spot next to the door. He sits at attention, ears straight and alert as he clutches his leash in his maw.

They do this every Sunday and Bravo knows the routine.

Sighing, Simon walks up to Bravo and takes the leash. The dog surrenders it easily, but the moment Simon grabs hold, he recoils.

“Christ, Bravo. Need to get that under control, yeah?” Simon shakes the leather leash free of Bravo’s drool.

Bravo makes a pitiful little whine in answer. Simon reaches out to scratch the top of the dog’s head before going to one knee to secure the leash to Bravo’s collar. Getting down is the easy part. It’s the standing again that always aches.

Simon’s bad leg is acting up today. At least, more than usual. It has been months since Simon went to physical therapy, and he might need to start working it back into his schedule if this is going to be his new normal.

Wincing as he pushes off from the floor, Simon wraps the end of the leash around his fist. It’s habit, and more for the sanity of others than himself. Bravo is well-trained. Used to be a bomb dog for one of the many SAS divisions.

During his time on base, Simon would always take time to play fetch with the military dogs. Sometimes they were ones he worked with directly, while others just happened to be on base at the time with their units. Maybe it was Riley’s shadow that always prompted him to do it. He loved that dog, and a little piece of Simon went missing when he died.

Then Bravo came along, and their retirements just happened to fall around the same time.

Simon couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It’s Sunday. And Sunday is Simon’s day to do whatever the hell he wants.

No work. No computer. No phone. No exercise.

Nothing but him, Bravo, and drinks at Dancing Faun.

Simon isn’t bothered there, and he’s thankful for that. When he first moved to the area, Simon kept ending up in pubs where people his age or a bit younger frequented. He was never left alone at those places. Someone would eventually approach him. Either it was some drunk wanker trying to fight him, or someone wanting him to take them home.

No one bothers Simon at Dancing Faun. Most of the people who come in are much older than Simon, and a good many of the men are veterans themselves. They understand Simon and his need for a bit of solitude. The owner of the pub, Ben, is also good at keeping strangers away.

Maybe it’s the balaclava that attracts them. Maybe it’s the mystery. People are attracted to danger, and while Simon left that life a few years ago, he’s never shaken his violent shadow. Retirement can’t erase the people he’s killed or the enemies he’s put away. That life is sticky. No matter how hard you scrub at it, a residue always remains.

But Dancing Faun is Simon’s one refuge from the whole world. He can drink, think about absolutely fucking nothing, and catch a football or rugby match. Afterwards, he goes home and searches through his contacts for someone willing to have it off for a bit.

It’s just physical. Only flesh. An attempt on his part to fill a vacant hole.

But today, Simon doesn’t need to call anyone, because you’re here. He knows that now without a solitary doubt. When you appeared in the doorway of his shop, Simon truly believed he hallucinated the whole thing.

But he imagined nothing.

You are real and whole and here. Somewhere.

Simon just needs to figure out how to make you come to him. He needs to make it happen.

Exiting through 141 Ink’s front door, Simon secures the deadbolts behind him. Bravo remains at Simon’s side, alert but happy, his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. At the very end of the street on the corner is Dancing Faun.

The outside of the pub is a deep, forest green with gold accents including the sign and lettering. The door is solid black with no window, just a silhouette of a faun holding a pipe. Simon pushes open the door and steps inside, Bravo right on his heels.

It’s still early, and no one is at this pub or any pub at this hour. But Ben always opens a little early just for Simon.

The inside is dimly lit, only a few of the lamps on the wall are actually on. The hanging ones above the bar are on but that’s it. The overcast morning light isn’t helping much. One of the televisions is already on displaying a repeat of a rugby match.

When the door shuts behind Simon, he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“That you, Simon?”

“It’s me,” he replies, bending down to unlatch the leash from Bravo’s collar. When the latch is released, Bravo pads over to their usual spot at the bar, sitting patiently on the right side of the stool.

Ben appears from around the corner carrying a plate. He’s older than Simon but not by much. The guy has about ten years on him. When Simon takes a seat on his usual stool, Ben sets the plate down in front of Simon, grinning.

It’s a full English with double of everything. While the pub doesn’t consistently serve food, Ben’s wife always makes Simon breakfast every Sunday morning. It’s tradition at this point.

Next to the plate, Ben sets down Simon’s beer and a cup of breakfast tea.

“Saw you on the cover of that magazine. Congrats. It’s deserved.” Ben leans against the bar top as Simon reaches up and removes the balaclava, setting it aside.

Ben doesn’t even blink or flinch. Why would he? Simon isn’t ugly. The few scars on Simon’s face don’t detract from his features. He might hide behind the balaclava but it isn’t because Simon hates himself.

Far from it.

He has a persona to put on. He needs separation between himself and everyone else. The people who meet him and come get tattooed all expect “Ghost” and “Ghost” wears a mask. Ben doesn’t give a shit about “Ghost,” and so Simon goes without when it’s just the two of them.

“Thanks,” replies Simon, taking a sip of tea before deciding what part of his plate he wants to tackle first. “How’s business?”

“Steady. Rent’s going up. As are my bloody taxes.” Ben shakes his head and Simon slices through one of the roasted tomatoes. “Fucking Tories and Labour can’t fucking agree on one bloody fu—” Ben glances up and immediately stops talking. “Sorry.” He holds both hands up in a placating gesture. “No politics on Sunday.”

Simon smirks. “Can I have my tea first?”

Ben drops his hands and leans against the bar top again. “But—and hear me out—if you have friends in the government…” He waves one of his hands around absently to indicate his point.

“I was military. You know this.”

“I’m aware, Simon. I’m only saying—”

“Don’t,” chuckles Simon as he cuts up the sausage on his plate.

Ben waves him off. “I know. But it’s the same bloody thing in the end.”

Simon snorts and grabs his tea. “No politics on Sunday, Ben.”

Ben gives a mocking, half-hearted salute before changing the subject. “Christmas is coming up in a couple months. Heading to the Highlands again?”

Every Christmas, Johnny invites Simon out to the Scottish Highlands to stay with his family. They spend most of their time on the MacTavish farm. It’s quiet out there, and Simon enjoys it.

Simon doesn’t have anyone. His family is gone. In the ground. Johnny knows this which is why he started inviting Simon ever since they first started working together. Gaz has come out a few times, and even Price showed up once for a short hunting trip.

But this year? Simon isn’t sure. You’re here now, but he has no idea for how long. If you’ll be in England for the foreseeable future, would you go with him? Would Johnny be okay with that?

The toast sticks in Simon’s throat and he has to wash it down with the remaining tea.

“That’s the plan,” he replies because it’s the only semi-truthful answer he can give.

Ben nods and taps the top of the counter. There’s a clatter from the direction of the kitchen and Ben sighs, his eyebrows rising slightly in a goodbye as he heads in the direction of the noise.

After that, Ben leaves Simon alone. He cleans the bar and glassware, puttering around Simon as he readies the place. When Simon finishes, Ben takes the plate, and then promptly offers it to Bravo who licks it clean.

The balaclava is back in place once the first wave of customers begins to roll in.

A few come in at a time—all of them old men who know each other. Regulars. Retirees who come in every day. They either scatter about individually or cluster in small groups near a television. Several of them acknowledge Simon with a nod of the head. Two take up spots at the bar.

Simon finishes his second beer and moves on to a third, considering when he’s going to switch over to whiskey. He always does. The door of the pub opens again and Simon takes a long swig of the golden amber liquid in his glass.

“Amelia! Usual spot?” calls out Ben.

The door is not in Simon’s line of sight, but he knows Amelia. She’s one of three women who comes to the pub on Sunday. Ben always puts on American baseball for her. She’s chatty, and has—on occasion—talked Simon’s ear off. But she’s sweet, and he’s never minded the attention. Sometimes, she even brings vegetables from her garden, and Simon always appreciates the gesture when she does.

“You know it, Ben,” replies Amelia.

“Already have it on.” Simon notices Ben’s sudden shift. His shoulders sharpen, back straightening as he watches something. It’s not confusion. Not exactly. Surprise? “And you brought guests.”

Guests. As in, plural. As in, multiple.

“Just the two,” laughs Amelia. “And only one is drinking. This one will need some tea and perhaps something to eat?”

Curious, Simon shifts slightly in the stool, bringing his glass up to his mouth for a drink to hide that interest in who it is that Amelia brought with her.

The first thing he notices is a young woman cradling a pregnant belly. He knows that familiar face. Evelyn. She stopped by his shop yesterday and introduced herself. But that’s not the first time Simon has seen her. She’s your friend, the one you were with at Riot Room. Simon saw her face every time his gaze was on you, and then again when he tore apart Riot Room’s security system in search of you.

Simon still has the old grainy video. He’s watched it so many times with the hope that he’d pick up on something. A clue that might lead you to him again. Three years he’s watched that surveillance feed. Three years and he hasn’t let you go.

Evelyn’s cheeks are rosy from the cold and she grins widely at Ben. Simon escorted her across the street and to The Bird after they chatted for a few minutes. People drive fast on it, which is true, but he was also curious. He thought that if she was around, you would also be around.

When he saw you there in that café, reality started to sink in. But he didn’t say anything. He simply stared like a bloody idiot and then politely excused himself. Simon isn’t shy, but he wouldn’t necessarily call himself bold. It was more like a subtle realization that Simon isn’t crazy, that he didn’t imagine you in the doorway, that these three years have only been preparing him for your return.

Simon’s gaze slides past Evelyn and lands on the woman standing behind her. He freezes, his glass halfway to his mouth.

You see him. And Simon sees you.

You’re here. In this pub. With him.

And you cannot run this time. There is no possibility to bolt without causing a scene. You’ve come to him, and now all Simon needs to do is get you to talk to him. That’s all he really wants. He wants to hear your voice, to find some understanding, to know if this obsession is entirely one-sided.

Simon observes your eyes widening and the soft inhalation as your lips part in surprise. He knows those lips. He’s kissed those lips. Felt them against his skin. They are a brand and those parts of him that know the memory of your mouth heat with desire.

The muscles in his legs are poised for action. They tell him to get up. To go to you. To drag you into his arms and take you away from prying eyes. Because Simon wants answers as much as he wants to revel in your warmth and return to those memories.

He’s been feasting on that old encounter, dishing out little fragments at a time to staunch the hunger but never enough to keep it away. This is his chance. This is his opportunity. Right now. In this place.

Something will happen between the two of you. Simon knows this in his very marrow.

As if suddenly realizing who it is you’re staring at, you quickly glance away from Simon, gaze focused on the back of Evelyn’s head or a point beyond. Simon wants to draw your gaze back to him. He hates that he cannot take action.

Because he will. Simon will take action now that you’re completely in his sights. But he needs to be strategic about it.

Amelia grabs hold of Evelyn’s upper arm and begins guiding the two of you around the pub. The damn woman stops at every table. Speaks to every person. It’s like Amelia is dragging this out on purpose.

Simon does not look away once. You have all his attention, and perhaps you know this. You’re so…ridged, and Simon senses an uneasiness to the way you forcibly smile at every person you meet.

He is so absorbed in your presence that he doesn’t hear Ben calling to him.

“Simon.”

Simon hears his name in the distance. He ignores it, instead watching as you move on to another table.

“Simon.” This time Ben leans into Simon’s line of sight, snapping his fingers.

Simon blinks and then shifts his gaze in Ben’s direction. Ben frowns, and Simon immediately softens his features. He doesn’t need to look in a mirror to know he likely looks irritated.

Ben nods toward the glass. “Want another?”

Simon pushes the empty stein toward him in silent answer. Ben snags it and tucks it away somewhere, grabbing a clean one to fill. When he sets it down on the bar top and Simon reaches for it, Ben draws it out of his reach. “You’re acting funny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Simon dryly, knowing exactly what Ben is referring to.

Ben snorts and then pushes the newly poured beer in Simon’s direction. Simon takes it and immediately takes a long drink. It doesn’t burn going down, but it’s not soothing either. Simon is on edge. He can feel it, like a venomous snake curled up in a pile of leaves.

Amelia turns and you follow, moving ever closer to him. She comes to a stop at the two men sitting near each other at the bar. Amelia is all smiles, as is Evelyn, but your smile has slipped into a neutral stare that only makes Simon sad. Like before, there is a weariness under your eyes that he longs to rub away.

Is it him? Does the very idea of the two of you coming together again bother you?

Simon immediately dismisses the idea. He noticed the tiredness when you were standing in the doorway of his shop. There is something else going on, something deeper, and Simon wants to know what it is. If he can, he will take it from you if that will ease the burden. That is, if you’ll allow him to.

The conversation between Amelia and the two men ends quickly. She guides you and Eveyln in Simon’s direction, and then you’re right there, in front of him, and Amelia is beaming like she’s just achieved some lofty goal.

“This is Simon,” she says casually, gesturing toward him, but Simon notices the underlying mischievousness to Amelia’s smile. “Runs the tattoo parlor just a few shops down. He’s the only young one we allow around here.”

Amelia’s grin is infectious, the kind that could make anyone smile. But Simon isn’t smiling. He’s too focused on you. He is so goddamn close. Simon could reach out and easily pull you right into his lap.

Amelia pats your shoulder. “I know the two of you know each other, but it’s been a while. How about you two catch up and Evie and I will go enjoy the game.”

Even though Amelia is speaking to you, she’s staring at Simon as she talks.

What are you up to, Amelia?

Her eyebrows rise slightly and Simon understands. She knows about you and Simon, at least to a certain capacity. Why else would she be abandoning you to him?

Evelyn’s grin is just as wide. Her gaze keeps darting between you and Simon with clear hope in the way she clutches her hands together in front of her chest.

“Amelia—” you interject, clearly frazzled.

“Sit,” insists Amelia, quickly ushering Evie away to her usual table in the far corner.

At first, you simply stand there, and Simon believes that you might turn your back on him and walk away. But you don’t. You don’t walk away from him nor do you break eye contact.

Slowly, you sink down on the stool next to him. Your gaze keeps darting across and over his face, like you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Are you trying to remember him? Are you relearning him the way he’s currently relearning you?

“What will it be?” asks Ben, his gaze expectant.

You slightly turn your head in Ben’s direction to address him but you’re too focused on Simon. It’s a victory. A win. Simon knows he’s won in some capacity by how intensely you’re focused in on him.

“I’ll take whatever he’s drinking.” Ben shrugs and grabs a glass, filling it up before sliding it over to you. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Simon notices Ben’s attention shift to him. It’s a silent ask to make sure Simon is fine. That he’s not being bothered. But you’re not a bother, and Simon gives the look no acknowledgment. No one is going to take you away from him.

Never.

Simon sits up straighter, shifting in his stool. He keeps one arm on the bar top, but the other rests against his leg, his hand poised on his knee. Your knee is touching his, and the very tips of his fingers brush against your jeans.

It’s an electric jolt when Simon makes contact. But it’s also his way of pushing a boundary. Will you accept his touch or move out of it?

There is a span of breath, and it is you that speaks first.

“Hello,” you say weakly, brow softening.

Your voice is a remedy, the embrace after a long absence. Simon revels in it, absorbs it into himself, devours the quality of those syllables until it repeats in a pounding rhythm within his brain.

He is happy. He is whole.

“Hello,” replies Simon, and the sultry purr in his voice is unstoppable.

There is no going back. There is no return to how things were. You are all that Simon needs. Forget the shop and all of his responsibilities. You are finally here, not just a dream or memory.

That old encounter is now new and fresh. It is yesterday as much as it is three years ago.

You blink, mouth forming into a smile that stretches toward your ears. It is genuine and soft, and you glance down at your hands in embarrassment, trying to hide from him.

But you’re not allowed to hide from him. Simon wants everything. He wants those delicate lines and your harshness. He wants this smile to be aimed at him, to know that it is he that makes you happy.

When you glance up again, your smile is a bit gentler, but it only makes Simon eager.

“You’re a tattoo artist?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“You sound surprised,” replies Simon.

“Well, yes. I—” You pause, and then try again. “When I met you at Riot Room you seemed…dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he laughs.

“Yes.”

“And yet you left with me?”

You glance away quickly, and stare at your fingers where they rub at the condensation on your glass. “Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.”

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Safe. You felt—feel? —safe with him.

“What is it that you think I did for a living?” asks Simon, amusement creeping into his tone.

“Wasn’t tattoo artist,” you reply softly, lifting the glass for a small sip.

Simon’s index finger moves of its own accord, tracing slow circles over your knee. It feels natural to touch you, and you don’t pull away from him.

“I was military.”

“Was?” you ask, one eyebrow arching in curiosity.

There is so much Simon can say after that. And so much he can’t. Simon considers every possible answer before telling you the truth. “Forced into retirement. Sustained a few permanent injuries in the field.”

You surprise Simon, not because you apologize for something out of your control but because you reach out and take his hand. Squeezing softly, you look him in the eye, and the gaze is so direct that it startles him.

“And I’m sure you were very good at what you did.”

“The best,” replies Simon instantly.

The smile that spreads across your face is beautiful. He wants to capture it, to press his mouth to yours and steal it for himself.

“How long are you here for?” asks Simon, changing the subject.

You shrug. “Not entirely sure. A while.”

“And how long is a while?” Simon needs to know. Will he only have you for a few days or will he have you for weeks? Months?

“I’m supposed to be picking up a visa at the US Embassy next week. It’s being expedited but I still came early. Someone is working very hard behind the scenes to make it happen.”

You don’t elaborate, and Simon isn’t sure if he should push the subject or not. Visas typically last up to six months depending on what kind it is, and that gives him hope.

“So, you’ll be around?” he asks with just the slightest bit of hesitation.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll be around.”

Relief floods Simon’s veins. There will be plenty of time with you. He will make the most of it.

“Are you staying with Amelia?” prompts Simon, his gaze quickly shifting to find the woman across the pub. She’s sipping on her beer, but it’s clear that her attention isn’t really on the television.

“I am. The two of you know each other.”

Simon’s gaze returns to your face. “I know everyone who comes in.”

“Self-proclaimed old man, then?” you tease.

Simon grins, chuckles. “That an issue?”

“No,” you laugh softly, and it’s then that Simon realizes you’re still holding onto his hand. Your palm is warm and comforting. It isn’t slack or limp. It is present, clutching his with gentleness.

“Have any availability in your schedule?” The question surprises Simon. “For a tattoo that is.”

Technically, he has zero room in his schedule for the next few months, and will likely be booked out even longer once he starts chipping away at all those goddamn emails in his inbox. But for you? He’ll make room. Fuck everyone else.

“Tell me when and what time and I’ll make it happen.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement, wanting to lean into that. To taste and remember. But he holds back. There will be a time for him to do so, but not right this second. No matter how badly he wishes for it to be so.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call you,” you say with an awkward smile and shrug of your shoulders. “Ghost is what you told me at Riot Room but Amelia called you—”

“Simon,” he interjects. “To you, I’m Simon.”

“But Ghost—”

Simon’s hold on your hand tightens. “I know what I said. But Ghost is…a persona. He is separate, and I don’t want to be separate with you.”

“Simon,” you say slowly, rolling his name around on your tongue.

His name sounds so sweet in your mouth. He wants to know all the ways you can say it. How would you say his name when he finally kisses you again? Or when his mouth is on your body and between your legs? What will his name sound like when he’s buried deep inside you? How will his name sound then?

“I like the way you say my name,” he whispers, and the words leave him without second thought.

Your eyes widen. Your lips part. And Simon squeezes your hand again, shifting a little closer to you on the stool.

This place is too public. There are too many eyes on you. Simon needs to take you away. There are questions that still sit heavy in his mind. Things he wants to know.

His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “Will you come with me? Outside? Just for a bit?”

“Simon,” you murmur, and it takes everything in him not to groan with pleasure.

“Please,” and Simon is close to begging.

You glance over your shoulder at Amelia and Evelyn. They aren’t looking this way, and that seems to do it.

“Okay,” you agree, not even asking him where it is he plans on taking you.

Dangerous doesn’t mean I didn’t feel safe.

Simon slides out of his stool, standing, towering over you. Bravo perks up but Simon shakes his head at him. “Stay here, Bravo.” Bravo’s ears droop slightly but the dog puts his head back down.

You stand, too, never taking your eyes off of him. While your gaze is a rush, it’s your hand which still clutches his that makes Simon tingle all over. That is what he clings to, latches on to skin against skin.

He steps back and you step forward. You are following him, moving with him, and Simon’s blood is singing, thrumming with victory, rushing to a place it shouldn’t but is.

When the two of you turn the corner down the hall, Simon tries not to rush. He is eager but fuck—he needs to control himself. This could easily spiral out of his control if he doesn’t reel himself in. It doesn’t matter how much Simon wants you. If you’re not interested, he can’t push for it.

But you’re following him. You’re talking with him. You’re holding his goddamn hand.

He can’t be wrong about this.

The two of you approach the door to the private patio, and Simon almost snaps. There is a small alcove under the stairs. Simon has to control himself, to not push you up against the wall there in the dark, and kiss you until you become soft and compliant in his arms.

Instead, Simon inhales deeply, and pushes open the door to the patio.

It’s small, just a few tables with chairs and a couple of portable heaters. The patio itself is in the alleyway that cuts through the entire street, pushing up against a row of houses and a few businesses. There is a privacy fence that keeps out any potential onlookers. Simon only comes out here to smoke, and while he could go for a cigarette, he’d rather go for you.

Leading you to a bench pressed up against the wall of the building, Simon finds a spot right under one of the heaters. It’s cold out but it’s still fall. The coats are enough but he’s not risking shit. Either the heater will keep you warm or he will.

The two of you sink down onto the bench, and still, you do not let go of his hand. Simon refuses to be first. If you won’t let go, he won’t either.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as if trying to calm your nerves. Simon cannot hold back what it is he wants to ask.

“Why did you run?”

Your eyes snap open, and you turn toward him. He sees the sorrow, and the battle behind your gaze. You’re finding the words, gathering your thoughts, and Simon silently hopes that you do not try to lie to him.

“At Riot Room?”

He shakes his head. “Not just there. Outside the shop, too.”

You blink. Look away. Glance back. The very bottoms of your eyelids are watery. Simon does not want to be the reason you cry, but you ran from him twice. Bolted. At Riot Room, he was hurt. Devasted. He didn’t understand.

Outside his tattoo parlor, that exit he can dismiss. It’s been three years and you were probably shocked. But that first escape haunts him lays across his skin like a ghost.

“I’m sorry I ran from you,” you whisper.

Simon shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

You glance down at your combined hands, but you’re not saying anything.

“Tell me,” murmurs Simon.

Slowly, Simon lifts his free hand, lightly takes your chin between thumb and forefinger. He guides your head up, moves your gaze back to his face. Once you’re looking at him again, Simon’s thumb travels the line of your jaw.

You lean into the touch. “I…was too close.”

“Too close?” pushes Simon.

“Yes. You felt…I wanted to stay. But I was scared.”

“Of me?”

“No!” you say quickly, your free hand gripping his upper arm, squeezing. “Never. It all felt like more. That it wasn’t just sex between us. That scared me.”

“And what if I wanted it to be more? What if I still want it to be more?” Simon leans in and you do not pull back or shrink away. You also lean forward, and Simon is so close to getting what he wants.

“It’s been three years,” you murmur. “You don’t mean that.”

“Have you not thought about me? Not once? Because I’ve thought of you. Every day.”

Simon let’s go of your hand, only to wrap his arms around your waist. You surrender to him, and Simon changes position on the bench, straddling it, pulling you into his lap. Your legs effortlessly go around him, and your hands cling to the neckline of his shirt.

“Have you thought of me? Tell me the truth,” growls Simon.

You’re so close. Lips just a breath away from touching his.

“Yes,” and when it leaves your throat, Simon hears the gentle break. “Many times. So many times.”

Simon hand travels up from your waist to grab the back of your neck. Your inhale is sweet. Wanton. He can’t have you completely, not at the moment, but he’ll take whatever it is you’re willing to give in this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

The words barely leave his mouth before you’re closing the distance. Simon answers you with a kiss of his own. There is no hesitant gap, no pause for breath, just you and him and your mouths meeting.

The kisses that follow are not mechanical or stagnant. They are generous and lovely and hungry. Your lips are soft, and Simon’s grip on the back of your neck only strengthens when your hips roll against him.

Your hand on his chest forms a fist, your fingers digging into the front of his shirt. Simon doesn’t care if you tug and pull, if you accidentally rip it. You can have whatever the fuck you want with the way you’re kissing him.

Simon groans low in his throat as his other hand makes passes over your thighs, hips, and lower back. He’s exploring your curves, relearning your body. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.

His blood is boiling. It is screaming, telling him to take you home, to finish what he started in the green room within the basement at Riot Room. Simon will make you his. You will take every inch of him, beg him repeatedly for more until you lose your voice, and Simon will do it, will keep going until you’re a deliciously perfect puddle in his arms.

Your fist unclenches, trails downward, and stops just above his belt. You’re going to make him fucking feral if you keep touching him like this. Any lower and it’s over. There will be no asking about taking you home.

Simon will simply toss you over his shoulder and go straight there.

Sitting up a bit, you shift in his lap, and that one small movement rubs the one spot blood is rushing to.

Fuck.

He doesn’t want to break the kiss. Simon doesn’t want to pull away, but all of his control is slipping away, melting from him like ice in the sun.

When Simon breaks the kiss, you whimper, and Simon’s answer is to dig his fingers into your thighs, pressing up into you to show you exactly how he wants you.

“Come home with me,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your lips are swollen and puffy. They’re perfect, and he nips at the bottom one before gently sucking it into his mouth.

“Right now?” you breathe.

Right now? No. The two of you can’t run off together right now. Simon has a fucking tab to pay, even if Ben could give a shit and tell Simon to pay him later. Plus, there is Amelia and Evelyn to think about.

Yes, they pushed you into Simon’s path, but you’re technically here with them. He won’t take you away. Simon is selfish when it comes to you, but he’s already waited three fucking years. What’s a few more hours until you’re back in his arms?

“Tonight.”

You’re shaking your head. Why are you shaking your head?

“I can’t,” you reply and now Simon is the one shaking his head.

“When?” he asks. “When can I see you again?”

Your gaze flicks up and Simon is lost for a moment, only thinking about how wonderful you feel in his lap. It takes him back to Riot Room when you first straddled him on that couch, kissing his lips, touching his body.

His mind wanders further, forming the image of you spread out, facing the mirror.

“Tomorrow? I can stop by in the morning.”

The morning. It’s not enough time with you. What Simon wants is for you to come over tonight. He wants to take you over every surface in his home like he planned on doing three years ago.

But he’ll take whatever you give him. If you can come by tomorrow morning, Simon will cherish it. He will be happy knowing that you want to see him at all.

And while he wishes all of this, there is a hesitant hopefulness in your gaze, like Simon will reject the offer. Are you just as nervous as he is? Are you wanting him as much as he wants you? Do you desire to be close to him in more ways than just your bodies meeting?

Because Simon wants all of you. Every bit.

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

Your smile is sweet. Wholesome. You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him, nearly knocking Simon onto his back.

“Sorry,” you laugh, beginning to pull away.

“No, you don’t. Come back here.” Simon grabs at you, pinning you against his chest, taking your mouth again, deepening the kiss until your lips part for him. His tongue traces the edge of your bottom lip, and yours darts out to meet him.

Simon is lost in you. Lost in your mouth, lips, and tongue. Lost in your touch. Lost in—

“Hate to interrupt!”

You pull back so fast you almost fall off the bench. Simon might not be in the military anymore, but his reflexes are still sharp. He catches you before you topple over.

Evelyn stands in the doorway, one hand over her eyes like she’s just walked in on something she shouldn’t be seeing.

“Amelia paid the tab. We’re leaving.”

“Shit,” you mutter, starting to unravel yourself from the bench.

Simon stands with you, his fingers slipping from yours as you head for the doorway. You glance back and smile, quickly looking between him and Evelyn before darting inside. Evelyn drops her hand and then crosses her arms over her belly, grinning wickedly.

“You’re welcome, Ghost.” She winks and disappears inside, the door shutting softly behind her.

Simon stands there in the autumn cold, his bare fingers lightly touching his lips in memory of you.

He laughs softly, drops his hand, and pulls the balaclava back into place.

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven

taglist:

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wh0rrorb4by · 4 months

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meanie - stepbro!eren

warnings: noncon, mean stepbro eren, crybaby reader, stepcest, dacryphilia, mentions of abuse, wrote this in like 10 mins srry

18+

*dark content, mdni*

eren couldn't explain why he wanted to hurt you so badly. you never did anything to him, never did anything to anyone. in fact, you were always so sweet — so nice and pleasant and cute, it was no wonder everyone around you absolutely adored you. he saw the way every guy he knew not only wanted you, but defended you, protected you, always kept you close and told you not to let your new big brother give you a hard time. maybe that was why he sometimes liked it when you cried, when he finally got you alone and said something a little too mean, or grabbed you just a little too hard.

maybe it was because you always forgave him. eren liked to convince himself that he wasn't a bad guy, that he was actually far from it. it wasn’t like he was always putting you down — he had his moments of being sort of sweet here and there. he just got a little mad sometimes, a little aggressive and maybe a little mean — was that a crime? he wasn't exactly happy when his father married your mother and the two of them decided to spend all of their time away from home. and it's not like he asked to be stuck with a new little step-sister who turned out to be a crybaby. in his mind, he sort of had a right to be angry. and even though it wasn't your fault, and he knew you didn't deserve it, he also knew that you were the only person who would let him get away with it. and he kind of liked that when he got a little carried away and did something scary to make you cry, one little sorry was all it took to make you love your big brother again.

like when he yelled at you, or called you names. when he grabbed your face, or your hair, or your wrist when you tried walking away from his fits of rage. when he got really frustrated with you being so weak and delicate and so perfect all the time, and he was pinning you down on his bed as soon as his friends left because he saw how they looked at you — and even at such extremes you wouldn't dare fight back, wouldn't dream of making him angrier than he already was. all you do is cry and ask him to stop, begging him not to be angry with you.

and all you do is cry some more when he pushes his cock deep inside you, gritting his teeth as he bottoms out and presses you deeper into his mattress. he knew it was unnecessary, the kind of force he used and the way he tried to make it hurt a little, pushing and angling to get himself right where you couldn’t take it. he just couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself from whispering filth into your ear as he pumped his fat cock into you and moaned into your neck. you just looked so pretty underneath him, so fucking gorgeous when you took what he gave you and didn't fight back — didn't utter a word to anyone about your mean older step-brother using you to take out his anger at the world. and eren convinced himself that he wasn't a bad guy when he coaxed an orgasm out of you, and then forced another one, and you were gasping and clutching onto him as your eyes rolled back and you shook in his grip. and he knew he couldn't be all bad when he held you close after he came inside you, and he shushed your cries and pet your hair and murmured apologies into your skin. and he smirked when you interlaced your fingers with his and told him that it was okay through your tears.

eren liked hurting you because he could do it again, and again, and again — as badly as he wanted, and you took it so sweetly for him. no complaints, no grudges, just a teary little kiss on the lips and a confession that you’d do anything to make your stepbrother love you, and that you loved him no matter what. and eren would push those limits as far as he could.

#wh0rrorb4by #aot smut #eren noncon #eren stepcest #dark content #eren smut #attack on titan smut

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redsaurrce · 1 year

Text

MYSTERY TO ME 1

summary . Wednesday liked mysteries, except... this one. The mystery which was you.

pairing . Wednesday x gn!reader

warning . mentions of blood, murder and kissing

MYSTERY TO ME 2

x--

You stare out of the window of your room to the endless horizon when your eyes dart to the field where Wednesday was shooting perfect arrows with Xavier. You've never known what love feels like, fair enough since every school you went to, you automatically became THE outcast. Love? Surely not something you'd have experienced.

It was bad, really. Bad when you were given judging looks, bad when you were alone in the forest standing in front of a dead body, your nails painted red, painted with the bully's blood.

For the first time that day you felt like you would lose your mind, because since then everytime someone triggered you, you would lose conscience and when you come back to your senses, you have had already killed someone. It was hard to explain, hard to believe even.

So you tried recording yourself while facing just another bully in another school and when you later on watched the camcorder, you saw a beast.. a beast which was you. Red eyes, scary aura and a murderous look.

You found out that your parents tried everything to keep their secret from you thinking that maybe if you never know, you might get out of it soon.

But truth sure comes to light one way or the other.

You thought there was no cure to this, until last night when Wednesday had told you to tag along with her to investigate the Nightshades case. You both were on your way to Xavier's shed where he kept his paintings.. rather scandalous paintings. The night was darker than usual which made you uneasy so you clung to Wednesday causing her to snap her head towards you.

"Dear Wednesday please don't slap away my hands now. It's scary you know." You gulped as you looked at the skies and then at front. Wendesday pursed her lips as she saw your scared face.

"Too bad. I should have brought Bianca instead." She said and looked forwards. You looked at her in disbelief, "Why do I remember someone saying that they even hate to breathe the same air as Bianca?" She kept quite, not because she was speechless but rather.. that was her way of rolling eyes.

"Here we are. If you don't want to come inside, you can stay here." She said as she removed your hands from her arm.

Which unexpectedly made you a little sad. You scoffed, "Isn't going inside safer than staying outside in the wild here?" You commented and walked straight inside as soon as she unlocked the door using her shenanigans until your eyes went wide looking at a monster standing right in front of you with hungry eyes.

In a span of seconds you lost your conscience only to become your beast self again but before you could encounter the monster, Wednesday came from behind attacked it.

You then saw her and the moment you tried to attack her from behind, luckily she escaped away but with a scratch in her forearm. She shouted your name, "_________ wake up! The monster's gone, it was only a painting!"

Slowly your visions became blurry and then turned to clearer. You saw Wednesday and at once ran towards her when you saw blood dripping from her forearm. "I-I'm so sorry Wednesday, I didn't want to hurt you at all." Your eyes became teary, why in the world would you attack her?

She sighed lightly, "It's just a scratch. Don't give me that look."

"I'm really sorry I didn't want to do that at all.." Your breathing became faster, "First aid.. does Xavier keep a first aid box here?" You started searching everywhere frantically but halted at once when Wednesday said, "Wait." She cocked her eyebrows, "How do you know it was you who attacked me and not the monster? As far as I know.. and if you've been honest with me, you said that you know nothing when you switch on your beast mode?"

You looked at her and then looked away to think about the same, "Wednesday I've never once lied to you.. but, ah.." You shut your eyes close as you tried to recall what happened moments ago.

"But what?" For Wednesday this looked just another mystery that increased her curiosity. Even though she liked mysteries and puzzles but this one... she's feeling different about this one.

She's feeling something else, a feeling of a parent looking at their child ride the bike for the first time. A feeling of concern. She has never felt liked this ever before, you were making her feel them.

"But I suddenly remember my name being called out! it felt like a wake up call, it felt like someone just woke me up from sleep and in my blurred vision I saw your terrified face, it was a face that a victim would make in front of the attacker, not a friend." You said and then looked straight into her eyes, "Which also brings me to the question, why didn't you counter-attack me? I clearly had harmed you."

The question felt like a dagger into Wednesday's chest, unexpectedly ofcourse, it wasn't like she had any feelings for you that your thought of her attacking you would hurt her.. right?

She looked away, "Then we clearly would have had to keep on fighting and that would waste my time. Speaking of which, we should go now."

When you looked outside the window, the words of Wednesday stormed your head, "She was lying, she's not the type to take blows." You murmured.

You rested your chin on the bedside, "Would things get better if I move again, I don't want to see the face Wednesday made yesterday ever again." A teardrop rolled down your cheeks.

Your parents were ridiculously rich which might explain the fact of you getting away with all sorts of murders you had committed so far. If you were to request your mother to move you again, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

"That's right, I should just leave. Wednesday deserves better friends." You said to yourself and curled yourself up in a blanket in a corner.

---

"What are you doing here Enid?" Wednesday looked through her dark long lashes at the ever so energetic and cheerful girl in front of her. "Well the thing is that ___________ texted me and said that she/he can't make it."

"Why?" She asked with her darkening gaze. "Stomach ache I was told." Enid answered. Wednesday frowned because there it was, the feeling she felt last day, she was feeling concerned.

"I see. Then let us go." She said.

After two or so hours of texting Enid requesting her to go with Wednesday in place of you, you were getting restless already. "They must be having fun going on with the investigation, well at least Enid won't harm her." You sighed deeply when you jolted up at the sudden knock on the door.

"_____________, are you inside?" That was Wednesday's voice. And even before you could think, your body reacted quickly and you opened the door immediately.

"I thought you were having stomachache.. the door opened faster."

You nervously chuckled, "Oh well, I'm better now so.. yeah. What are you here for though? How did your investigation go?" You asked while eyeing the packet in her hand.

"We didn't go to investigate. We were at the infirmary. Here take the medicine." She forwarded the packet.

You were surprised to say the least but then you contorted your eyebrows, "Two hours at the infirmary?"

She looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite tell what it meant. "You kept the track of the time?"

You stuttered, "Uh-uh yeah sort of, I had nothing to do any wa--"

Before you could finish, she spoke, "The thing is I was waiting for you but instead Enid came approximately ten minutes ago and apologized for being late because she was on date with Ajax."

You gulped, did she kept waiting that long? She could've texted- oh right, she refuses to be the slave of technology.

"Uhm.. I'm sorry." You had nothing except to apologize to her, which.. felt so shitty because since yesterday you only felt sorry towards her. And maybe a little bit of something else which you weren't sure of. It was happening to you for the first time afterall.

"Oh I'm so sorry again, you've been at my door since the starting, please come inside." You said and turned around to let her in when she grabbed your wrist. "I hate it everytime you say sorry to me. Can you please stop doing that?" You weren't sure what to say because a train of emotions just hit you, with her doing something unexpected, to her saying something unexpected.

You shook your head, "About that I'm sor- I mean I'll be careful about it."

She then looked down at the place where she had held your wrist and you too shifted your focus to that, all you wanted was to grab her hands back but at that very instant she let go off it causing you to feel a sting in your heart.

She looked up and then noticed how empty your room looked like, earlier when she had come to your room she didn't like how much stuffy your room looked like, filled with all sorts of stuffs and posters, but now, it just seemed so much emptier.

Then she spotted cardboard boxes and trunks. "What's all this? Are you moving to another room or decided to sell things on thrift shop?" She asked you while looking around.

You smiled dryly, "None. I'm just going to change schools."

She shifted her focus from your photoframe that you decided to pack later, to you at once. "Why?" She asked you, even though she tried to hide her surprise, you could sense that from the tone of her voice.

"I don't know... I just don't want to hurt anyone." You shrugged. She walked towards you and stopped once your faces were mere inches away, "Whom did you hurt? Weems?"

You chuckled, "Ugh no!" Then you seized your chuckle with a subtle but sad smile, "You." You gulped.

Wednesday liked the way you chuckled, it made her want to make that expression too. About your answer, she didn't like that.

"Then where are you planning to go?" She asked you.

"Why? Are you planning to send me letters?" You said jokingly.

"No, you said that you don't want to hurt anyone, then.. will you shifting to another school solve your problems? Will you stop killing people?"

Your blinked as you looked away. "Only if it was under my control."

"That's right. And I am sure you were sent here just to do that. To gain control over your powers. Your parents made the right decision ________, don't go." She said.

You sighed, even though you wanted to put meaning behind her 'don't go' , you knew she was saying it just for the sake of it. "I'm not saying just because I have to ______________. " You frowned, "Does your psychic abilities gives you access to people's thoughts too? And don't you try to talk me out of it when you call your own parents evil people trying to pull your strings from afar. Remember?"

She looked at you amusingly, "It's not my psychic abilities, just that your face is like an open book so easy to read. About the second part, I have no comment."

"I am not easy to read Wednesday, it's just that you know me better than everyone else."

"What?"

"What?" Oh shoot! Did you just confess like that? You cleared your throat, "Uh- uh I mean, you are good at reading people's faces. That's what I'm saying. You managed to figure out what I'm thinking when it's really hard for others to do so."

"I.. am.. not good at reading people's faces ____________." She said slowly and firmly.

"What?"You blinked.

"People call me emotionless apparently because I am not good at reading room. They throw a fit when I don't seem to get what they want to say through their expressions. I had a tough time staying close to people, that is why I prefer solitude." She answered with a stoic expression.

"I see.. but you seemed to do well in my case?" You said with a half smile.

"Which is weird.. I know, but do you know what is weirder?" She asked while folding her arms.

"What?"

"You figuring out me. I don't remember anyone understanding me as much as you do since I lack emotions." She looked down for a split second, "You bother me."

You got confused, "... like in a good way?"

She started walking towards you with steps that felt like they would leave a mark on the floor, you stumbled back and sat down on the bed while she kept decreasing the distance in front of you. "Can you read me now?" You said with a shaky voice as your breathing became faster.

She leaned closer and closer, "Yes. Do you think I want the same thing as you do?" You felt so enchanted and dazed when you looked at her lips which resembled the dark shadows lurking in the forest that night. "Yes.. I guess?" You weren't sure what you were saying but if it was an invitation for a kiss, then yes, i guess?

"You're right." And those were the words you heard before you felt her soft lips against yours. You grabbed her nape to come closer for a deeper kiss. It was so slow yet it felt electrifying, it defied Wednesday's knowledge of electricity for sure.

At that moment you felt nothing but staying beside Wednesday forever and maybe.. maybe you now have an answer as to why you returned to yourself that night when Wednesday called out to you.

Maybe Wednesday was the last piece to your puzzle, maybe she was the answer to your question and you were more than willing to search for answers with her by your side.

Because to Wednesday too, you were another mystery that intrigued her.. in a good way.

"Don't go." She breathed as you both parted for air.

"I won't." You said and tilted your head to kiss her again. You felt her smile on your lips.

Which was rare and you were in for it.

--x

This was my first Wednesday work AAHHHH how was it T_T tysm for reading luvs <;33

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader

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naughtyneganjdm · 24 days

Text

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 29

Summary: Negan deals with the overwhelming emotional effects of what happened to Y/N altering his life and he's not handling it well.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, Nathan, Simon, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/139486027

Notes: I know I said that I would put up the priest Negan fic next, but this one has been done and edited for a while. I just forgot about it. But I promise that one is next. Thanks to anyone that still reads this story!

“You’re being lazy,” Negan felt the warmth of an arm wrapping around his waist from behind, holding him close. It made a smile tug at Negan’s lips when he cuddled his head in closer to the pillow that he was laying on. A faint kiss was pressed over the back of his neck and it had his lips parting. “You need to wake up. It’s a busy day.”

“Every day is a busy day,” Negan frowned, turning in the bed with his tired eyes fluttering to an open. “You know that Y/N.”

Seeing her smile made his heart skip a beat. Maybe he got used to seeing her sad for so long that whenever she smiled it honestly took his breath away. Hooking his fingers with hers, Negan brought her hand to him to place a kiss over the back of it.

“There is nowhere I’d rather be than in bed with you,” Negan informed her with a hesitant smile, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against hers. There was no better feeling in the world than waking up knowing that you weren’t alone. That there was someone with you to share your life with. “I’d rather take the day just to be with you.”

“Why are you still here Negan?” Y/N whispered causing his breath to get caught in his throat. Tipping his head back, he felt his body tensing up and he didn’t know what she meant. That wasn’t exactly the response that he was looking for.

“In bed? Because I’m comfortable with you,” Negan responded with a frown. The warmth he felt waking up was suddenly cold and uneasy. She looked unhappy with him and he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t care about the rest of the world right now. The children are sleeping. We’re together. That’s all that matters.”

“I mean at The Sanctuary,” she countered causing his lips to part. Trying to lean forward to kiss her, Negan felt her fingers pressing in over his lips to keep him from doing so. “I asked you to take the children to the farm and you’re still living here Negan.”

“What do you…?” Negan began with a faint whisper, stopping when he realized where this conversation was headed.

“I asked you and you promised me. You swore you were going to take the children to the farm Negan. Let them live a normal life. You swore,” her voice got angrier as she sat up in the bed. The tension in her body only further proved that. It made Negan’s heart begin to race and he felt like he was starting to panic. Pressing up onto his palms, Negan braced his body weight on them as he stared out at her on the bed. “It was my dying wish Negan. You promised me and you still haven’t done it. Why haven’t you kept your promise?”

With a gasp, Negan’s eyes snapped open with his heart hammering inside of his chest. Lifting his head, Negan saw that it was still nighttime with the small amount of light from the moon filtering into his room at The Sanctuary. Gazing to the bed beside him, Negan made sure that Nathan and Evie were still there. When he knew that they were safe, he was able to calm down somewhat before attempting to gather himself.

Lowering his head into his palms, Negan groaned out and couldn’t shake the feeling that he was experiencing. The nightmares returned. They were gone for a short while, but now every time he closed his eyes he had some kind of bad dream that revolved around Y/N. Either that moment on the hill repeated in his dreams or she was in them angry. He had a few dreams that included Lucille as well. She was angry with him too in them for what went down. There was no escaping the way he was feeling. Not awake. Not sleeping.

Sliding in closer to his children, Negan pulled both Nathan and Evie in closer to his body. It had been weeks since the day Negan had left Y/N in that small town. For the first two weeks Negan went out every day searching for her body. He had most of The Saviors searching for her too. They all knew what she looked like and what she was wearing. It had almost been a month with no prevail. But he kept looking. He wasn’t ready to give up.

What Y/N had said to him in his dreams echoed throughout his mind. He did promise her that he would take the children to the farm, but his number one priority was finding her body. More than anything, he needed that closure. The children needed that closure. They needed to bury Y/N in order for them to have a grave to go to. That meant he had to stay at The Sanctuary and use all the resources he could in order to try to find her.

In his arms, Negan felt Evie cuddling in closer to him and it made his chest ache. Since they hadn’t found Y/N, Evie was convinced during the first few weeks that her mother was still alive, but the longer time passed the more it became obvious that Evie was coming to terms with the thought that her mother was really gone. Especially since Y/N would have made it back to them if she was alive. There was no way that she wouldn’t have made it back. Not with having Nathan and Evie with Negan.

It was hard for both him and Evie. Negan was suffering greatly from depression. He was doing his best to hold it together but losing Y/N had hit him hard. Nathan really didn’t understand it, he was too young. He would ask for her, but he didn’t understand that she was gone. Negan wished it wasn’t like this, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

Because Negan was having a hard time he picked up on the fact that Evie was doing her best not to have meltdowns, but some days she was like him and she would break down. But most of the time it felt like she was taking care of him. Evie knew that he was broken especially after finding him that day having a meltdown at the farm. It was a job that she shouldn’t have had to carry the weight of, but she was doing her best for the both of them. It should have been the opposite, but no matter what Negan did he couldn’t pull himself out of the darkness that he was feeling.

Pressing a kiss over the top of Evie’s head, Negan cuddled his chin in closer to her to hold her close. Nathan was lying beside Evie on the other end and Negan made sure he was close too before trying to get comfortable. Sleeping became hard for Negan again. He had a hard time staying asleep. Exhaustion would often catch up to him and he would pass out, but it never lasted long.

Another thing Negan knew is that he wasn’t taking care of himself physically either. Before all of this happened, he would always keep himself looking super clean and pristine. Now he was letting his hair grow out and it was often messy. It had been a long time since he had shaved. And he wasn’t showering like he could have been. Right now those things just didn’t matter to him.

He was making sure that the children were fed and taken care of, but all he cared about was finding Y/N. It didn’t make sense to him that she was completely missing. Then again, there was a thought that entered his mind. If Y/N did turn, they were right by the water. He didn’t want to think it, but there was that chance that she ended up in the water and that’s why they were never finding her. Maybe her corpse was beneath the water and they would never find her.

That thought was horrifying to him and it was one that he was going to have to live with for a long time. He hoped that he was wrong and there was something that him and his Saviors were missing. It didn’t make sense that they weren’t finding her body. Negan personally went through the entire town that they were in when he left her. Multiple times. He searched for some kind of sign as to where she went and he found nothing. There was nothing there. It was like she just completely vanished.

Clearing his throat, Negan thought about how Y/N asked Negan to give Evie her wedding band that Negan gave her. That was something he didn’t follow through with either. Instead it was still on the necklace that he wore. In his mind, she was his wife so he was never going to take it off. It kept a piece of her with him always.

Right now, he still saw her in his sleep every night. It was often a nightmare, but at least he still saw Y/N. He was worried about how long it might be before he stopped dreaming of her. Until he stopped remembering what her voice sounded like. They got so far only for their dreams to be ripped out from beneath them. It wasn’t fair. That’s how he still viewed this whole situation. It was wrong on so many levels and it wasn’t fair.

Trying to force his eyes closed, Negan knew that he wasn’t likely going to fall asleep. And if he did? It would take hours. So he just cherished the warmth of his children near him. Glad that they were at least sleeping.

Unfortunately he was right. Negan was awake long enough for the sun to start to rise and by the time he finally did fall asleep, he didn’t stay asleep for long before one of his people at The Sanctuary brought in breakfast for them. Lifting his head, Negan groaned out when he saw that Evie and Nathan were already up sitting at the table. Clutching tightly to the pillow that was in his arms, Negan grumbled and lowered his head back down.

“Breakfast daddy,” Evie called out to Negan who rolled onto his stomach before pulling the pillow in over his head. With a sigh, Evie got up from the bed and reached for Negan’s white t-shirt to tug at it. “You have to eat. You didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry,” Negan grumbled with his voice being muffled against the bedsheets. Another firm tug was felt at his shirt when Evie managed to get him up and seated on the edge of the bed. There were dark circles under Negan’s eyes and his hair was a mess. Frowning, Evie stepped forward to brush her fingers through her father’s messy hair. “You don’t have to take care of me Evie.”

“I do,” she insisted reaching for Negan’s hands to squeeze tightly at them. Getting Negan finally to his feet, she led him over toward the chair that he would often sit at and got him to lower down. Sliding his plate of breakfast before him, she handed him over the silverware before taking her seat. Nathan was already at his chair, kicking his feet while he picked at his breakfast. Evie was doing her best to eat too, but Negan hated this part of things. They still had the fourth chair there. Having it empty felt wrong, but taking it away felt worse. So his meals would often lead to him having a breakdown that led him to tears thinking about Y/N. “Daddy?”

“Yeah baby?” Negan’s tired expression met Evie’s when she pointed down to the plate. “I’m trying honey. I’m sorry.”

“Hi daddy,” Nathan smiled brightly when Negan looked him over. It drew attention to his dimples and Negan feigned a smile. God, this was so fucking hard and he knew that he had to start stepping it up. He was the only parent these two had left and he felt like he was failing them. He felt like he was failing Y/N.

“Good morning handsome,” Negan got up from his chair enough to press a kiss over Nathan’s forehead. Brushing his fingers through Nathan’s hair, Negan carefully lowered back down into his seat and sighed loudly. Watching Nathan pick at his food, Negan slid his chair in closer and reached for the silverware. Cutting up his food, Negan lifted it up on a spoon making Nathan’s smile expand. With a hum Nathan swallowed down on the food and bobbed his head about like nothing was wrong. “Does that taste good buddy?”

“Yeah,” Nathan responded eager for another bite when Negan brought up a spoonful again. Evie’s eyes were locked on them together while Negan attempted to make silly faces to get Nathan to giggle. What she also noticed was that Negan never took a bite of his food. “Yum.”

“Yum is right. You’re gonna grow up and be a strong little boy, aren’t you?” Negan heard the sound of a chair moving, but he kept his attention on Nathan. Suddenly the sound of Evie making train sounds were heard and a spoon was placed in front of his mouth. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s head slowly turned and Evie nodded toward the spoon.

“Eat,” she demanded of Negan who let out a long exhale. “Do I have to make silly faces too?”

Replicating almost the same faces as Negan was doing previously with Nathan had Nathan in a round of giggles before Negan opened his mouth to accept the bite, “Now if you want to feed Nathan, I’ll feed you. Swallow it down.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan swallowed down hard knowing that she was just doing her best to get him to eat. Evie kept up with what she was doing until Nathan was done with his breakfast. Raising his hand up, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “I can feed myself the rest of the time.”

“Okay,” she lowered the silverware and gave him a stern expression. Usually Evie took on a majority of his genes, but that look right there. That look was something he had seen from Y/N so many times in the past. “You better.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked, whistling when Evie went to walk away. Wiggling his fingers, Negan motioned her to him again. Curling his arm around her waist, he hugged her close to him. He knew that he wasn’t being the best father he could be right now, but the depression was hitting him hard. Having Evie here with him definitely made things better, but he knew he should have been the one taking care of her. Not the other way around. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, burying her head against the side of his neck to squeeze harder at him for the hug.

A knock was heard making them both look back to see that the door was slowly pushing open. Once Simon was revealed to be behind it, Negan cleared his throat and felt a sense of discomfort, “Hey boss man. Can we talk?”

“Not until he’s done with his breakfast,” Evie answered for Negan and it made Negan’s thick eyebrows bounce up in amusement. Simon’s head tipped to the side with him looking to Negan for a response.

“You heard the little lady, she’s in charge,” Negan pointed to Evie who gave a faint smile when her father listened to her instead of going straight to work like he normally would. “She’s the boss. So let me finish this and I will be right out.”

“It’s kind of important,” Simon stressed to Negan, his hands resting at his hips when Evie reached out to place her hand in over her father’s shoulder almost to stress dominance in this moment.

“And so is him eating. He doesn’t have much left, he hasn’t eaten much in days so please let him eat. You can wait outside,” Evie waved her hand about in the air before returning to her seat. A snort fell from Negan’s lips at her response. Shrugging his shoulders, Negan nodded in the direction of Evie showing Simon that he was going to be listening to his daughter. “He’ll be out when he’s done. You can wait outside.”

With a grunt, Simon gave Negan a glare before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Faintly clapping his hands together, Negan knew that Evie was proud of herself, “Good job baby girl. I can’t even get him to listen to me.”

“It’s time someone did,” she finished with her breakfast while he did the same. After he finished, he got up from his seat and got the dishes together. Then he gave both Nathan and Evie a kiss on the head before starting to go for the door. “Are you going to be gone today?”

“No honey, I’m just gonna go speak to Simon and then I will be right back,” Negan assured her with a firm nod of his head. Giving her a wink, he headed out of the room and saw that Simon was resting against the wall with anger flooding his features. “What is it?”

Once the door was shut behind Negan, Simon stepped forward and threw his hands up in the air, “When are we going to stop this Negan? It’s been weeks and you still have The Saviors out looking for Y/N. I think we both know we’re not going to find anything.”

“We stop when we find her,” Negan responded with a shake of his head. This was something Simon kept bringing up and by this point it was starting to really infuriate Negan. There was a flood of rage rushing through his veins and Negan knew he had to try to keep a level head about this. “I’m not going to give up until we find her.”

“Then you’re never going to be safe Negan,” Simon retorted with an angered breath. “Rick’s crew is likely planning their attack on the fucking place while you’re wasting all of our resources and our men on some bitch that is likely dead at the bottom of the water.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Negan roared, stepping forward to firmly shove his hands into the center of Simon’s chest. The swiftness of it had Simon stumbling backwards, a grunt falling from his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare call my wife a bitch. I will fucking destroy you.”

“Like you’re destroying The Saviors and The Sanctuary?” Simon snarled hearing Negan’s breathing growing louder, his hazel eyes narrowing in frustration. “Ever since Y/N and those kids showed up, you’ve been letting this place nosedive into the ground. You are meant to be the leader. We are in the middle of a war with Rick and his people. What are you doing though? You’re in your bedroom every day sobbing into your pillows. And if you’re not doing that you are out all day long looking for a woman that you know is dead. We both know you’re never going to find her Negan.”

“I don’t give a shit what you think Simon. I’m going to keep looking for her because I love her and…” Negan paused when the sound of Simon laughing interrupted him. Biting at his bottom lip, Negan felt his rage increasing with Simon rolling his eyes.

“You loved her?” Simon mocked Negan, emphasizing his words in an antagonizing way. Simon’s jaw was clenching and he made it clear he was furious with the way Negan was acting. “She was one of your wives Negan. Not the only one. Just one of them.”

“Watch where you are headed with this,” Negan warned his number two, his fingers curling into a tighter fist at his side.

“You know, I never really agreed with your actions here, but I went along with it because for the most part, it got things done,” Simon began, his eyes locking with Negan’s trying to express some sense of power over Negan in this moment. “Then Rick shows up and proves to you that your way of doing things isn’t going to work. But you keep toying with the guy and you are letting them build up an offense against us. Then your family shows up and suddenly you don’t care anymore. All you care about is your family and a woman that you didn’t even care for when the world was normal Negan. Why the hell is she so important now? Because she certainly wasn’t when you were married to Lucille.”

Closing his eyes, Negan tried to count to himself knowing that he was fully prepared to attack Simon at this moment, “Now you’re letting a ten-year-old control your life and it’s fucking pathetic.”

Grunting out, Simon stumbled back after the force of Negan punching him collided with the side of his face. It had Simon grabbing the railing, his fingers curling tightly around the metal when his other hand reached up to caress where Negan had hit him. Lifting his head, Simon noticed the way that Negan’s eyes were locked on him, with Negan’s chest heaving.

Standing up straight, Simon’s blood was rushing through his veins when he stepped before Negan fully prepared to fight him back when Negan shoved into him again, “What are you gonna do Simon? Huh? You wanna fight? I fucking dare you. I will destroy you.”

“Daddy?” Evie’s voice was heard in a faint whisper. Both men gazed over at her with Simon backing down when he saw Negan’s younger daughter staring out at them with big eyes. Worry filled her young features and Simon scoffed, before rubbing at his face again. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine baby,” Negan’s posture changed completely when he spotted Evie, lowering down on his knees to reach out to cup her face in his rough hands. “You go back in there and watch your brother for me. Daddy just needs to talk to Simon, okay?”

By her expression, Negan could tell that Evie wasn’t comfortable with leaving him, but she was going to listen to him just because he asked her to. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, Negan slowly stood and waited for the door to be closed before turning on his heel, “You ever say something negative about my wife or my daughter again and I will fucking kill you. You understand me?”

“Crystal clear,” Simon’s shoulders slouched, his breathing loud enough for Negan to hear. In a sense, Simon was lucky because Negan wasn’t sure what he was capable of if Evie hadn’t come out. “At least I know when this place falls, it wasn’t my fault. It was yours.”

“Fuck you,” Negan snarled under his breath, standing his ground before Simon. With a roll of his eyes, Simon shook his head before giving Negan a final glare. Instead of saying anything more, Simon walked off leaving Negan to himself. Negan let out a tense sound, his heart hammering in his chest with a fire burning in his fist from where he had punched Simon. He was furious with the way that Simon responded to him searching for Y/N. If it came between dealing with Rick and finding Y/N, he wanted to find Y/N. That would be his choice every time. Shaking his head, Negan stepped back toward the door to his bedroom and stopped when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. Immediately, his stomach sank, his heart hammering in his chest when he saw Y/N standing at the end of the hallway. “Y/N?”

Calling out, Negan started to move away from the door of the bedroom that his children was in. Once he seemed to notice her there, she took off in the other direction and he quickened his movements. It seemed like she was pushing through the group of people that were on the second level to get away from Negan when he called out to her again. She got a head start down the stairs and he took off after her.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Negan called out and it drew her to look back over her shoulder at Negan when she got to the bottom of the stairs. When their eyes connected, Negan could feel a chill run down his spine. “Wait.”

His pleas were heard on deaf ears as she continued to run away from him and he felt a rush of panic flooding his veins. Trying his best to keep up with her, Negan cussed out to himself when he reached the bottom of the stairs and didn’t see her. Looking both ways, he noticed that an exit door was closing and he quickly headed that way.

Once he reached the outside, he came to a stumbling stop to look around. He could barely breathe when he took a look around in hopes of finding her. Everything was weighing heavy on him, but mostly confusion. How’d she get back here and why was she running away? And how was she alive?

Finally, his eyes locked onto Y/N when he saw that she was standing by the gate where they had all of the walkers attached to it to keep people from trying to enter The Sanctuary.

“Y/N!” Negan called out her name once more, fear overtaking him when he saw her getting close to the fence. With him approaching, it had the growling sounds from the walkers growling and they seemed to get more animated with him there. Coming to a stop drew her eyes away for a minute to gaze over at him and Negan threw his hands up in the air. His pulse was pounding inside of his head, his breathing uneven when he approached her. “Y/N? What are you doing? How’d you get here? You’re alive.”

Smirking, she gave Negan a weird expression before going back to observing the walker. When she leaned a little too close in for his comfort, he threw his hand up to stop her, “Hey! Be careful. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Calm down,” she breathed out with a wrinkle of her nose. She seemed to be taking in the features of the walker that was before her. Without any fear, she stepped closer to it and it had Negan stepping forward. “It’s not like I’m going to get bit or anything. Well…again.”

“That’s not funny,” Negan grunted under his breath drawing Y/N to smile, tipping her head from side to side. Reaching out she poked at the abdomen of the walker before her and Negan didn’t know how to react to the way she was acting. “I don’t understand what’s going on right now. You’ve been gone for weeks. You make it back to The Sanctuary, you’re perfectly okay and the first thing you decide to do is run away from me so you can get close and personal with the walkers?”

Again, she didn’t respond to him as she poked at a different spot on the walker which made the growling sounds grow louder, “Hey! I’m talking to you. After everything that happened the last time I saw you, this is what you decide to do? Not go to your children? And you’re making jokes about being bitten?”

“You’re being too sensitive,” she stammered, finally giving her full attention to Negan resting her hands on her hips. “Maybe I’m just taking more after you. Making light of a dark situation. You’re the one with the dark humor here. Take the stick out of your ass Negan.”

“I…what?” Negan responded in disbelief when she snickered to herself and started walking the length of the fence again. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

Brushing his fingers through his messy hair, Negan’s body was trembling and more than anything he wanted to wrap his arms around her to hug her, but she was acting so strange. Clearing his throat, a warmth flooded his face when he threw his hand up in the air.

“I imagine you’re really mad at me right now for leaving,” Negan suggested finally getting her attention when she looked back over her shoulder at him. “I heard that gun go off. I was certain that you killed yourself and I made a promise to you. I left and if I would have ever known that you were alive I promise I would have never left you. I told you that the mark on your arm didn’t exactly look like a bite.”

It seemed like she was thinking things over before turning on her heel to approach him, still saying nothing.

“You have no idea the hell that I’ve been through since that day. I thought you were dead. Evie thought you were dead,” Negan informed her with a broken sound, his hand hovering in over his chest and shaking when she let out a long exhale. “We need to take you to her. Come with me.”

Extending his hand out, Negan expected her to take it, but instead she just looked down at his hand and frowned, “Please.”

“Boss?” a voice surprised Negan causing him to jump. Looking back over his shoulder, he noticed that Laura was approaching him and all the color was drained from her face. The expression over her features almost made him uncomfortable the closer she got to him. “Who are you talking to?”

“What do you mean who am I talking to?” Negan was disgusted with Laura even asking him that question. Pointing toward Y/N had her eyebrows bouncing up. Laura looked in the direction he pointed before looking back to Negan again. “I think it’s kind of fucking obvious who I’m talking to.”

“You’re talking to…” Laura looked to the gate of walkers and cleared her throat uneasily. “The walkers?”

“What the fuck are you…” Negan let out an uneasy breath when a smirk tugged at Y/N’s features. If anything Laura looked concerned for Negan right now. Gazing between Y/N and Laura, Negan felt a chill running down his spine when he let out a hesitant sound. “This isn’t funny. She’s literally right here.”

“Who is?” Laura took a moment to ask after she looked around the area surrounding them. There was genuine concern in her eyes with Negan letting out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I don’t know what this is,” Negan announced nervously gazing between both women. Waving his hand about in Y/N’s direction had Laura’s lips parting and it looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. “She’s right here. I don’t know if the two of you are doing this to get one over on me for letting this happen, but…”

“Negan,” Laura held her hand up in the air trying to get Negan to focus. Stepping forward, she grabbed a hold of Negan’s shoulders and he felt tense with her holding onto him like this. “Who am I supposed to be seeing right now?”

“Y/N. She’s right there and she’s…” Negan answered her, his voice breaking when Laura slowly released him. There was worry in her eyes with Laura looking Negan over. “I saw her in the hallways walking and then…how do you not see her she’s standing right there? This isn’t a funny joke.”

“Negan, no one is joking. I see no one. All I see is you talking to the air. It’s just you and the walkers,” Laura explained to Negan with a shake of her head. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around Negan’s wrist and nodded her head toward The Sanctuary. “Maybe I should get you to the doctor. What do you think?”

“I’m not crazy,” Negan suggested with a hesitant laugh looking down to Laura’s fingers curled around his wrist.

“Okay, you’re not crazy,” Laura held her hands up when Negan yanked his wrist from her. “You’re probably just tired. You’ve been out constantly looking for Y/N. Maybe you’re just exhausted and not getting enough sleep. How about I walk back with you to your room?”

“Fucking hell,” Negan lowered his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Cussing under his breath, Negan tried to gather himself. Looking again, he saw that Y/N was still standing there and she waved. “I have to be dreaming again.”

“Negan, you’re right here. You’re not sleeping,” Laura insisted, squeezing at Negan’s arm to try to comfort him. Nothing was making sense right now. It felt like the world was spinning around him and like he could throw up. “Do I need to get the doctor here to help you?”

“No. No,” Negan shook his head over and over again starting to realize what was happening here. God, he was going fucking crazy and seeing things. It felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack with the way his chest was tightening. With everything that he had just said in front of Laura, he knew that she also was going to think he was insane. Standing up straight, he dragged his hand down over the side of his face and feigned a smile. “I was actually just joking with you. That’s what this was.”

“A joke?” she repeated and Negan eagerly nodded his head. An awkward expression filled her features when Laura looked over Negan. Laura thought he was crazy. Hell, he thought he was crazy too. “Are you sure? Do you need me to stay with you?”

“No, I just need some space,” Negan assured her with a shrug of his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets. Not fighting with him, Laura turned on her heel before Negan called out to her. “Laura? Could you please not tell anyone about this today?”

“Of course,” Laura muttered before heading back toward what she was doing near The Sanctuary. Hopefully she would keep her word or else it would get back to Simon and somehow he would convince everyone that he was not mentally fit to be the leader. Which meant he would lose the help that he needed to actually find Y/N.

“Do you think I look like this one right now?” Y/N’s voice spoke up and it made every muscle in Negan’s body clench. Turning to face her again, Negan could see that she was observing one of the walkers that was on the fence more thoroughly. “I figure after all the rot and body decay, this has to be what I look like right now, right?”

“Stop,” Negan demanded when she chomped her teeth together almost mimicking the walker that was before her.

“Do you think I’ve killed someone? All that blood and rot coming out of my mouth,” Y/N pointed out toward the mouth of the walker again and Negan felt his heart racing inside of his chest. A muscle in his jaw flexed with his stare becoming more serious. “Aw. Negan. Loosen up. It’s not like I’m dead or anything.”

“You’re not really here,” Negan whispered to himself, turning on his heel as he headed back toward The Sanctuary. An overwhelming sense of guilt and agony filled him again almost like the first time he lost her. More than anything he was trying to keep it together when he headed back so people didn’t see him losing it again.

“Hey. Why are you running off?” Y/N’s voice beckoned him from behind. A long, overwhelmed sound escaped his lips. When he reached for the door, he stopped when he felt her fingers wrapping around his wrist to stop him. It felt so real and a tremoring breath fell from him. “You’re leaving me again?”

Swallowing down, Negan tried to avoid looking at Y/N as he walked back into The Sanctuary. The sound of her footsteps following him were heard again, but he tried to block it out, “Typical Negan. When things get hard he runs. Abandons me. Like he always did. Just like you did that night. Leaving me in that small town all alone.”

“Shut up!” Negan finally erupted, turning on his heel and it had everyone in the hallway jumping. Everyone looked around trying to figure out who he was talking to, but they just likely assumed that they were making too much noise so they all went silent. A smirk tugged at Y/N’s features when he swiftly started making it back up the stairs. When he almost reached the bedroom, he came to a stop when he noticed Y/N was still following him. Making sure he was alone, Negan surveyed the hallway before turning to look at her. “I need whatever this is to stop. I’m about to go be with our children and I can’t be having a mental break in front of them. Please. Leave me alone.”

“So now you want to get rid of me?” she was offended when Negan reached for the door again and pushed into it. An annoyed breath fell from Negan’s throat when she pushed through with him. Sitting at the center of the bed was Evie and Nathan staring up at him with big eyes. Closing the door, Negan stood before his children and felt like his entire body was on fire.

“I need to take a shower,” Negan announced, his voice raspier than normal. “Maybe after we do that, the three of us can go for a walk around outside before I go out looking again tonight.”

“That’d be nice,” Evie nodded her head, but she seemed worried with the way that Negan looked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Negan assured her, looking back toward the door to see that Y/N was leaning back against it. Heading for the bathroom, Negan stopped and swallowed down loudly. Everything felt so surreal right now. Negan didn’t know if he hadn’t had enough sleep or if something weird was actually going on. He really felt like he was having a mental breakdown. Especially since he could see Y/N standing there like she was perfectly okay, yet no one else could. “Evie? Do you see your mother?”

“What do you mean?” Evie replied back, unsure how to answer. Holding his finger up toward the door, Negan noticed that he was shaking an incredibly large amount when Y/N looked over toward their children that were sitting down on the bed together. Evie gazed over at the area that Negan was pointing at and worry began to flood her young features, “Are you asking me if I see her there? I don’t see anything daddy.”

“I meant,” Negan whimpered, licking his lips when he shakily lowered his hand. He didn’t even know why he asked her that. He knew that Y/N wasn’t really there. That was when his eyes started burning over. He broke. He finally broke. Something was seriously wrong with him because he was seeing someone that wasn’t there. “I meant in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes,” Evie didn’t know how to answer when she reached for a toy that Nathan was outstretching his hand out to grab. Helping him, she played with Nathan in attempts to keep him calm. “Daddy, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Negan lied reaching up to wipe at his face when he started crying. At this point, he couldn’t hold back on his emotions. They were just coming whether he wanted them to or not. Taking in a deep breath, he pointed toward the bathroom again and nodded. “I’m going to shower.”

Making a quick escape, Negan stumbled into the bathroom and kicked out of his boots. Heading for the shower, he turned the water on and dropped his head forward. Counting to himself, he tried to get himself to calm down when he started crying again. Stealing another look back, Negan could see that Y/N was still there and she was in the bathroom with him. It felt like the air was being stolen from his lungs and the room was spinning.

“You can’t just block me out Negan,” she declared drawing him to lower down onto the ground. Pulling himself into the shower, he remained fully clothed when he started breaking down again. The water was freezing and it hurt like hell with it pouring down in over his flesh, but he was punishing himself. Rocking back and forth, Negan covered his head when he heard her sigh. “Negan?”

Covering his ears, Negan slammed his eyes shut in hopes that he would be able to pull himself from this because this was only hurting him more. God knows how long he was in there before he felt hands pressing in over his shoulders. Lifting his head up, he saw that Evie was knelt down in front of him. When she felt how cold he was, she scrambled for the shower to turn it off.

“What are you doing?” Negan questioned watching Evie scramble to grab a towel to wrap it around him. “Evie?”

“I heard you crying,” Evie informed him with worry in her eyes. Trying to tug on his hands, she was eager to get him out of the shower, but he wouldn’t budge. “Daddy, I need you to get up. You’re freezing. You need to change and…”

Even though he knew he was doing everything wrong, Negan was locked inside himself. Everything hurt and he felt like he was dying. Reality was really starting to sink in for him and he hated everything right now. He was broken and it was a broken that you couldn’t fix.

“Daddy please,” Evie begged, struggling to get Negan up, but he wouldn’t budge. “Daddy get up.”

With a final unsuccessful tug, Evie fell back onto her bottom and let out a defeated sound. Tears swelled up in her eyes seeing her father having a complete and total breakdown in front of her, “You’re not the only one that lost her!”

A whimper fell from Negan’s throat when she threw her hands up in the air, Evie’s cries filling the bathroom when she stared out at him with pain in her eyes, “We lost mom. And if you keep up with the way you are acting we are going to lose you too. You’re not the only one that lost her dad. You only just got her back. She was with us the whole time. And she was a good mom. So please. Please. You have to stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan’s voice was broken when he shakily got up to his knees and threw his hands up in the air. There was an ache that would likely never go away. He was heartbroken and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I’m so sorry. I just…I don’t know what to do. I hurt. It hurts so much and…”

Dropping his head down, Negan’s hands braced on the ground when his sobs started to fill the air again. Getting up, Evie slid forward to wrap her arms around Negan while he cried. Shakily, he lifted his arms to wrap her up in a hug. Hell, he couldn’t explain to her what was going on right now, but he knew he needed to start faking it for the children. She was right. He was all they had and he had to figure things out. If not for himself, he needed to do it for them.

----

It had been another rough few weeks. Anyone who saw Negan likely knew that he was a fucking disaster right now. It was rare that he made a public appearance in The Sanctuary lately. Instead he had other people running things for him. He was unkept. Still broken and depressed. His hair was messy and longer than normal. His beard was longer and he just wore whatever the hell was comfortable. Every day he still went out searching for Y/N, but he found nothing. By this point he had pretty much given up completely. There was no sense in searching for someone who was so obviously gone. And someday soon he knew that he was going to have to stop it all together.

One of the only positives was that when he was here, he was spending all of his time with Evie and Nathan. He imagined that was something that Y/N would have liked about this. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have liked it all that much since he promised her that he would be going to the farm with the children and he hadn’t done that yet.

Lifting his eyes from where he was seated on the bed with Nathan, Negan could see that Evie was still working on whatever it was that she had been for a while now. Since Evie found Negan in the shower like she had, things had been awkward between them. Negan knew that she saw the broken pieces of him. It made things uncomfortable. Truthfully? They were both so fucked up over losing Y/N. They were both broken and there was no fixing it. The only thing that could fix it was Y/N and they were both coming to terms with the fact that she was never coming back. Well, in the physical sense for Negan at least.

He kept it to himself, but Negan was still seeing Y/N. Daily. Thankfully, right now she was nowhere to be found and that made him happy. Every time she showed up, he had a meltdown and he knew it. It was something he couldn’t explain to Evie, so he likely came off snappy whenever she’d ask him about it. Negan felt like a freak and there was nothing he could do to change that. If this was the normal world, he could get help, but the world wasn’t what it used to be. He couldn’t get help. If he went to the doctor here, it was just a doctor. Not a psychiatrist. And if he did ask for help, somehow it would get out to Simon or someone else that didn’t have faith in him and he would lose everything. He couldn’t lose everything right now. Not when he still needed the resources.

“Do you know what this is?” Negan pointed toward the image in the book that he was reading to Nathan. Every day he was trying to help Nathan become more comfortable with talking and learning things. He knew that Y/N insisted that he was smart, but he didn’t want people to think that there was something wrong with Nathan, so he was working with him.

“A dog,” Nathan was excited to answer, lifting his head up to get praise from Negan who nodded slowly. “A brown one.”

“Yes it is,” Negan watched Nathan flipping the next page while he stroked his fingers through Nathan’s hair. Nathan was cuddled up beside him while they worked together. It was something Negan honestly tried to do every day. He had someone working with both Nathan and Evie, but he was putting a lot of work into helping Nathan. “And what about this?”

“A bed!” Nathan’s voice was high pitched, but it made Negan happy that he started to get Nathan talking more.

“What about the color?” Negan tapped on the page and it was one where Nathan had to think about things. “You got this.”

“Red?” Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed, his facial expression showing that he was unsure. Nodding slowly had Nathan giggling when he looked to the book again.

“Good boy,” Negan praised Nathan on getting something right again. The sound of Evie moving her chair caught their attention when they finished with the book, but Negan was still eager to get Nathan talking again. Setting the book aside, Negan tapped at Nathan’s nose and it had Nathan rocking back with laughter. “What’s this?”

“My nose daddy,” Nathan pushed Negan’s hand aside with a big belly giggle when Negan started tickling at Nathan’s stomach. The uncontrollable laughter fell from Nathan’s throat with the way that Negan was playing with him and it had Negan smiling. Probably for the first time in a long time. “Stop!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Negan lowered down to pepper kisses against Nathan’s face. It had happy sounds filling the air which lightened the mood of everything. It made Negan happy in some way that Nathan was too young to understand that Y/N was gone. Between Negan and Evie there was so much sadness, but with Nathan there was still a sense of purity and innocence. He was happy still and Negan needed that right now. Finally stopping, Negan saw the happy tears at the corner of Nathan’s eyes when Negan rest back on his elbow. “Okay, what about your name?”

“Hey daddy,” Evie called out with an excited breath trying to get Negan’s attention, but he held his finger up motioning her to wait. Arching his eyebrow up, Negan was looking to Nathan expectantly while Nathan grabbed a hold of his toes. “Daddy?”

“Hold on Evie,” Negan requested, his attention locked on Nathan. When Nathan didn’t answer, Negan reached out to playfully stroke his fingers through his son’s hair to mess it. Having Negan ignoring her had the smile fading from her face while Negan played with Nathan. “I know you know this answer. Don’t try to fool your daddy.”

“It will just be a second,” Evie spoke up once more with uncertainty in her tone. Looking to what she had been working on, she pushed it out toward the center of the table in hopes that she could catch Negan’s attention. “Daddy?”

“Nathan,” Nathan finally answered, his pronunciation of the word a bit broken since it was still a little hard for him.

“And how old are you?” Negan pushed after clapping his hands together. The lines in his forehead grew with his dimples becoming more prominent while he watched his son closely. “How old?”

“I’m three!” Nathan responded and Negan inhaled deeply before shaking his head. “No?”

“Not yet. Almost though!” Negan reasoned with his son, grabbing a hold of Nathan’s hands to wiggle his arms. “You’re still two!”

“Oh!” Nathan’s mouth made a big circle shape and it had Negan snickering.

“What’s this?” Negan reached for Nathan’s toes, bringing Nathan’s foot up so he could blow raspberries at the bottom of his son’s foot. It had Nathan hollering out in laughter which had Negan laughing too.

“Mine,” Nathan pulled his foot back away from Negan making Negan feel some sense of joy with how enthusiastic Nathan was being. “Toes.”

“Good boy,” Negan cheered on his son before pointing toward his own chest. “Who am I?”

“My daddy,” Nathan almost squeaked out in enthusiasm reaching out to sink his fingers into Negan’s hair. Pulling Negan close, Nathan kissed at Negan’s cheek before Negan started to return the gesture. Peppering kisses over Nathan’s face, Negan tickled at his son’s abdomen while they laughed together.

“Daddy?” Evie called out again after allowing Negan some time with Nathan, but this time Negan didn’t even give her a response when he pointed at Nathan’s chest again.

“So how old are you again?” Negan wanted to get Nathan to say it right this time.

“Two,” Nathan had the right answer this time and Negan threw his hands up in the air to cheer on his son.

“That’s right!” Negan gave a proud nod and he was being dramatic with the way that he was saying things hoping to get Nathan excited to learn. Reaching for Nathan, Negan pulled him in close to give him a big hug, making silly noises when they played together.

“Hey daddy, can I just…” Evie began trying to get her father’s attention if only for a moment.

“Evie!” Negan snapped when he heard Evie calling out to him again, his eyebrows furrowed showing that he was angry with her trying to get his attention as he lifted his head up to stare out at her. “I asked you to give me a goddamn minute. Fuck! When I’m ready for you, I will let you know. You don’t have to keep saying my name. I heard you the first fucking time.”

After he said that, Negan immediately regretted it when he saw her face turn a light shade of red. The expression she gave showed that he hurt her feelings before she dropped her head down. Sitting up, Negan went to say something, but he didn’t know what to say with her face growing a deeper shade of red. Nathan crawled into Negan’s lap in attempts to continue to try to play with him. Clearing his throat, Negan looked to Nathan who was playing with Negan’s fingers and Negan could feel a lump growing in his throat with Evie’s reaction to him yelling at her.

Dropping her pencil, Evie pushed the paper that she was working on even further out away from her in an unhurried movement. By her expression, Negan could tell that she was doing everything she could to hold back on crying with her head lowered.

“What do you want, Evie?” Negan finally spoke, adjusting Nathan in his lap noticing the way that her fingers curled around the edge of the table. There was a single tear that slid down her face and it made Negan feel guilty. “Evie?”

“Never mind. It’s not important anyways. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry,” she sniffled, pushing her chair further away from the table. Lifting her hand, she wiped at her face with the back of it and Negan knew he should have been saying something, but he didn’t. “Can I please go to the bathroom?”

“Evie,” Negan frowned lifting one of his hands to bury his head into his palm realizing that he just upset his daughter.

“Please,” she begged still keeping her head tipped away from him because she didn’t want him to see her upset.

“Of course honey, you don’t have to ask me that,” Negan tried speaking softly to her since he knew he fucked up with the way he yelled at her. Swiftly she stood up from the table and was quick to run into the bathroom. The sound of the fan turning on was heard and he knew that she did that to likely hide from him that she was crying from what he had done. With a frown, Negan curled his arm tightly around Nathan to pull him close. Standing up, Negan brought Nathan with him when he headed over toward the table to look at what Evie obviously had been calling him over for. Grabbing what he realized was a drawing, he pulled it up to see that it was him playing with Nathan on the bed that she had drew. “Fuck.”

For a ten-year-old, it was actually incredibly well done. There was no questioning that Evie had a real talent for art. Even this early on it was obvious. He remembered when she was little how she was drawing all the time. He thought he got her started on that since he always used to doodle and draw. But this was beyond anything he had seen her do in the past.

Letting out a hiss, he looked back over his shoulder at the bathroom door wishing he would have never snapped at her like that. She was just excited to show him something that she had done and it was probably something that she was proud of.

“Good job,” Y/N’s voice was heard from the other side of the room. Looking toward the couch, Negan felt a pain at the center of his chest and he huffed when he saw her sitting there. So much for having a day without seeing her. “You’re really working on getting father of the year. Aren’t you?”

“Please, not now,” Negan begged, lifting his free hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose in hopes of getting this to stop. “I can’t take this right now.”

“Well excuse me,” she breathed out, throwing her hands up dramatically when she leaned back against the couch as if to get comfortable. Why Negan was seeing her truly drove him mad, but he was hoping that he would stop having these visions, not that she would keep coming back. “You make our daughter cry and I’m just supposed to keep my mouth shut? You’re really dropping the ball with Evie, Negan. You’re her favorite and you’re ruining her relationship with you.”

“I’m not,” Negan reasoned with her, noticing that Nathan was looking up at him confused since Negan was ultimately talking to thin air. Hopefully Nathan thought he was talking to himself instead of picking up on his weird habits. “I snapped at her one time. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that,” she put her feet up on the coffee table when Negan headed for the bed to sit down with Nathan. He wanted to keep working with Nathan, hoping to block out Y/N. “So you’re just going to let her cry in the bathroom?”

“I have two children. When she’s ready for me to talk to her, she will come out,” Negan reasoned handing over one of the toys that he had gotten with Y/N from that store from the night everything happened to Nathan. “I can’t stop paying attention to Nathan just because she’s crying. I also need to allow her the right to her privacy. She’s in the bathroom, she doesn’t want me in there with her.”

“She’s starting to think that Nathan is your favorite,” Y/N spoke up having Negan grumbling under his breath. “You’re barely talking to her and interacting with her. You’re spending all of your free time with Nathan. And when you are with her, she’s taking care of you. You’re not acting like her father, Negan. Being a father was the thing you did best and you’re failing.”

“No, I’m a good father,” Negan corrected, his eyes lifting up angrily from where he was seated on the bed with Nathan. “I’ve been spending all of my time with both of them. I’m being a good father. I’m looking for their mother and I’m doing my best.”

Hearing the sound of the bathroom door opening, Negan watched as Evie walked beyond the table instead of going back to her drawing. Sadness flooded his body when he saw her drop down on the opposite couch that he had been seeing Y/N on. Evie turned and faced the back of the couch after grabbing a pillow to hold onto it.

“You’re not going to go back and finish working on what you were doing?” Negan inquired, speaking loud enough to let Evie know that he was talking to her.

“It’s crap anyways,” Evie retorted with a sigh, squeezing the pillow tightly in her arms.

“I can’t imagine anything you do is crap,” Negan didn’t know if he should tell her that he looked at the drawing or not since she had run off after everything. “Do you want to show me what you were working on?”

“You don’t want to see it,” Evie replied back and Negan could tell that he had upset her. “Just keep playing with Nathan.”

“I’m sure Nathan and I would love to see what you were working on,” Negan suggested feigning a smile in hopes that she would look at him, but she wasn’t. Brushing his fingers through Nathan’s hair, Negan could see that Nathan was preoccupied with the toy Negan gave him and Negan stood up from the bed. Heading over to Evie, Negan knelt down and caressed his fingers over her shoulder. “Hey…listen…”

A long exhale fell from his throat when he tried to get Evie to look at him, but he could hear her crying still which meant she was fighting looking at him, “I didn’t mean to yell at you Evie, I was just…”

The sound of a knock on the door was heard and it made Negan huff out loudly. The person at the other end didn’t wait as the door pushed open, “What?”

“Gregory is going to be stopping by in about an hour,” Simon informed Negan, grasping tightly to the door while he stared out at Negan from across the room. “Apparently he has information about something that is going on with Rick and the rest of the crew. It’s life and death according to him. So I suggest you clean up and get ready because you are going to be at that meeting.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Negan declared with a frown hating to hear that he was being demanded of something when he was about to make up with his daughter. Well, at least try to. “It can wait.”

“No Negan, it can’t,” Simon snarled at Negan, moving further into the room when he threw his hands up in the air. “He said life or death. So I suggest you take it seriously because that means it could effect the lives of everyone here. Including your children. So if you care about your children, you will get up, get ready and be prepared for that fucking meeting in an hour.”

“Got it,” Negan grumbled under his breath. For once, this did actually seem like a big deal. Once Simon left, Negan looked back to Evie who was still facing the back of the couch. “Evie?”

“Don’t worry about it dad,” she whispered quietly, but he still managed to hear her. “You have more important things to deal with right now. Go do whatever you have to do.”

“Baby,” Negan frowned realizing that Simon coming in and telling him what he did wasn’t going to fix anything when it came to Evie. They should have been having a discussion where he apologized and she had his full attention. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she was still hurt and Negan knew that.

“Listen. Daddy is gonna go get cleaned up for this meeting. After it’s over, how about while Nathan is taking his nap you and I watch a movie together? Maybe we can set this area up, get someone to make some popcorn for us. Get some snacks. What do you say?” Negan caressed over Evie’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” she breathed out with Negan leaning forward to press a kiss over her temple. He wished she would have said more, but he hurt her. There was no denying that.

Even though he didn’t have any passion in what was happening, Negan took a shower. Cut his hair. Trimmed his beard. Put on the leather jacket, slicked back his hair and pretended. He feigned that smile and that arrogance. He went down to that meeting and did what he had to do. He put on his show. That’s what he always did. But when Rick showed up? Well that’s when everything changed.

At this point in his life he had dropped things with Rick in the name of finding Y/N. But when he was shot in the leg and they shot out the windows of The Sanctuary. That’s when this became personal. That’s when he knew that he had to start focusing on finishing this war. Rick and his crew put his children in danger and Negan didn’t even know if they were okay.

Pacing to the side of the small trailer that he was trapped in, Negan felt the overwhelming heat surrounding him. Trying to look through the small cracks of the boarded-up windows of the trailer, he found himself in a sense of panic. He didn’t even know if his children were okay. And the last thing he did was hurt his daughter’s feelings. More than anything he was scared. Scared if he would make it back to his children. And he was left wondering if they were all right. Now, Negan was going to have to end this war once and for all before he could make the world right for his children. Because Rick made this personal when he involved his children in the danger he was bringing down on Negan and The Sanctuary. And he wasn’t okay with that.

----

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ametrinearrows · 6 months

Text

Lose It All

YN walked into the arena with three hours before Monday Night Raw started and headed straight towards her assigned locker room. Her mind was clouded with the different thoughts and emotions she had felt the past few months, so she kept her head down as much as she could until she could reach a safe place for her to let go of the false smile, she often wore these days. The girl was still going through the motions from the passing of her mother four months prior. Despite the way her performances in the ring being top notch, YN felt the void but continued to hide the pain beneath the stoic façade.

As she made her way to the locker room, she was startled to see that Cody Rhodes, her closest friend, was standing just outside the door waiting for her. With his trademark charismatic smile, he extended his hand to her and said, “I believe it’s past time for us to have a little chat. Don’t you?”

The YHC-haired girl hesitated for a moment before nodding and took his hand in hers as he led her into the room. The two of them settled down on the bench once inside and YN instantly started fidgeting with her hands. She wasn’t the type of girl that found it easy to talk about her feelings no matter who the person she was talking to was.

Cody leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to get a better look at his best friend, his voice was gentle yet firm as he spoke to her. “I think you know that by now everyone has noticed how you walk around like there’s a two-ton brick on your shoulders and, Babygirl, that’s no way to live. You don’t have to fight whatever is going on in your head by yourself. So, if you’re ready and willing to talk, now’s the time. I’m right here and more than willing to listen and help you get through it.”

Her eyes began to well up with tears as he reminded her that there was always someone there to be her listening ear. She took a deep breath and poured her heart out for him as she shared the pain she was going through internally and the feeligns of loneliness that had grappled onto her since her mother’s death.

The blue-eyed man listened attentively to every word YN had to say with nothing but complete empathy for her written in his eyes. He nodded as he offered words of comfort and understanding whenever she needed to hear them. With losing his father not too long ago, he understood what she was feeling and what she might have needed to hear. Cody also knew YN just needed to know there was someone there for her. He didn’t try to fix her pain because he knew there was only so little that could, instead, he provided a safe space in him for her emotions to be acknowledged and validated.

As the words flooded out, YN could feel the weight lifting from her chest. His presence alone was able to get through the day but his willingness to sit there and listen to everything she had ever felt in the past few months gave her the strength to confront her grief head-on. Something that she had avoided doing for the longest time.

After what had felt like an eternity of talking, YN had finished letting go of everything. She wiped away the tears that had fallen, even though she was sure there were more to come. Looking into Cody’s eyes, she whispered, “Thank you, Cody.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he questioned.

YN looked down at her hands that were still fidgeting with each other. “For being you. For being...” she took a moment to breathe deeply before she continued, “there just to listen. In the past four months, you have been the first and only person who has done that. Though I know that I have put on this brave mask and face the day like nothing in the world can tear me down, I’ve been needing someone to actually let me lose it all on them for a bit. I just didn’t realize how bad I needed that until now.”

Cody smiled warmly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me for any of that. I was simply returning the favor you once gave me. You’re my best friend so that makes you family. Just remember you’re never alone in this, ever.”

YN gave him and slight smile and nodded. From that point on, Cody took it upon himself to periodically get her to tell him all that weighed on her. He had no idea how much it truly helped her through it all, but she appreciated it all the same.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Cody rhodes #Cody rhodes x reader #Cody rhodes imagine #Cody rhodes imagines #Cody rhodes fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

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pablitogavii · 1 year

Text

Her Best friend

Summary: Pablo is her best friend..until he startled doing some interesting things...;)

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: smutty end ;)

You were family friends with Gavi and Aurora since you three were little kids. Aurora being older always bossed you and Pablo around so you kind of became closer to the younger Gavira sibling throughout the years.

It was clear you were no longer kids when you stopped having sleep overs in the same bed or 'play fights' where you would end up on top of him and vice versa.

It stopped when you got your first boyfriend in high school of whom Pablo didn't really approve and was definitely right since the asshole cheated on you in less than a month.

It was a strange relationship anyways...you couldn't really give yourself completely (you know what I mean) and that kept him impatient and somewhat angry with you.

You first thought it was your fear of losing it so soon but then you realized it was your intuition telling you he is not the one you want to give your innocence to...he's not the one you love.

Realization that you had a crush on your best friend didn't really change much because you always believed he didn't share those same feelings..that is until he started to do interesting things recently.

For example, last time y'all went out was on some dinner event where all footballers brought their girlfriends (aka wags) and Pablo invited you as his best friend cause he didn't want to go alone.

You assumed it was fine and got all dolled up in one of your favorite dresses and some high heels. Since your break up, you haven't exactly had a chance to go out looking this nice.

"You look beautiful, enana" he said making you blush and smile while moving closer ruffling his fluffy brown hair.

"You're not bad yourself, Gavira" you chuckled while he whined about you messing his "perfect hair" per usual but you knew he secretly loved it.

"Y/N! Tu eres tan hermosa!" Pedri walked towards you with his big smile and you smiled back nodding your head before giving him a quick hug.

"Where is Francesca, hermano?" Pablo asked referring to Pedri's date meanwhile moving his hand to touch the back on your thigh like it was the most naturally occurring thing in the world (gif).

It was like he wanted Pedri to see it...like he was marking his territory but why?

"She'll be here soon. I'll see you guys inside!" Pedri said quickly before leaving and you turned towards Pablo whose eyes were glued to his phone screen.

You had every intention of asking him why he did that but you chickened out the moment your eyes met remembering how good it felt to have his fingers on your skin.

Another night, he invited you to his house for a movie night. It wasn't an odd thing for you two to watch movies together, often times leading to you sleeping in his bed while he goes to the guest room.

It was during that movie that Pablo started to give you gentle scratches on your leg and you didn't really mind trying your best to stay focused on the movie.

After a few minutes his hand started to move more inward finishing almost inside your pajama shorts a few times. It was useless trying to focus on the movie but stealing a glance from him, you saw that he appears completely unfazed..like he isn't doing anything "interesting" at all right now.

"Pabloooo" you whine and he finally moved his eyes from the TV screen looking down at you with raised busy eyebrows.

"Qué? You don't like the move?" he asks staring in your eyes while still continuing with his little ministrations. Was he really clueless about what he was doing!? No freaking way!

"Um..no..I..you've been touching me a lot lately?" you say feeling your cheeks heat up and his hand stop moving half of his fingers underneath your pajama shorts.

"So?" he asked like your question was dumb and you looked down at his hand rested between your legs which was such a turn on in that moment.

"Nothing..but..um..you've touched me more than my boyfriend and you are my best friend..and I kinda.." you couldn't finish the sentence since he started moving his hand more tracing circles on your clothed clit.

"like it...?" he whispered while you bit your bottom lip trying to suppress a moan knowing that his family is right down stairs.

"do you like it when I touch you nena?" Pablo moved so that he could whisper into your ear and you closed your thighs around his hand trapping it there.

"did anyone ever touch you, princesa?" Pablo added more pressure against your clothed clit and you let a small whine leave your lips while you shook your head making your best friend smirk and pull himself above you.

"aww my poor princesa...so touch starved...maybe I can change that?" Pablo leaned down and you felt nervous all of the sudden..was this really happening or is it another wet dream?

"wait! we..are..friends" you mumble not yourself believing in those words and he knew that the moment he saw your eyes.

"shh..nena..i want to be your boyfriend finally..." Pablo said and you felt your heart skip a beat as his lips crashed on your and he deepened the kiss pulling you down and resting comfortably between your thighs.

"if you want me to stop..." Pablo said after pulling away wanting to make sure you are comfortable with everything that he was doing.

"touch me Pablo.." you couldn't pretend anymore letting a moan slip your lips the moment you pulled him down and kissed his lips again...guess he's not your best friend anymore ;)

#pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavi #gavigif #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #fc barcelona #fc barca #fc barça

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readbyred · 30 days

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Hi :)

Heard you were accepting dps requests so what about a charlie fic

I feel like charlie is the type of person to flirt with everyone and ask anyone he finds attractive out except when it comes to the person he actually has feelings for so what about charlie x reader where reader has been waiting since before they graduated for him to ask her out and as soon as she decides to move on charlie gets all sad and jealous and confesses and yknow how it goes

Would love to see this in a fic ♡

Not a fic blog (maybe someday), but I can give you a headcanon (so, shorter and no dialogue) though… I did get a bit inspired, so its longer than my usual writing

I think as a teen he was the sort of person to try and prove he’s popular with people. It would feel bad to lump you in with that. Like, he actually liked you, so it's different. Not that he has no respect for people he flirts with, but he knows it isn't anything serious. He was just a teen guy trying to impress his friends and get the experience he was prevented from getting (with his strict school and all). Especially with his position in the friend group and all.

Still, he hoped to have something serious with you one day. One day when he gets the courage, when he feels like it will work out and he won't jeopardize the whole friend group because of his crush.

But that day didn't come when he was at Welton. Then he had other things to worry about, considering his departure from the school. It was a hard time for everybody. But no matter the odds the poets kept in touch, as much as they could. And that included you.

Only, as years passed you started losing hope. I mean, if he wanted to he would, right? It felt so helplessly pathetic to be waiting for Charlie when it seemed that he had never and will never return your feelings.

When you were younger, it felt like the end of the world. Like you were destined to be alone. Oh, how many nights you’ve spent with Knox, wallowing in self-pity after Chris left him. Just sitting there with your buddy, talking about how you should go to a monastery. Not out of a spiritual need, but because there would be no one ever to love you. Guess you were a bit dramatic back then. It took Pitts many tries to smack some sense into you but you matured eventually.

When college approached, you were ready to meet new people. Although you weren't in the same school together anymore, you made a promise with the poets to keep seeing each other regularly.

Meanwhile, you met Mark. A true romantic soul with quite a witty humour. And Jack who would always treat you so sweetly and had the same interests as you. And Adam who walked you to the dorms every day. And Matt who had so much passion for life. You opened yourself up to people. Started meeting up with others.

Suddenly, you’d bring up your dates every meeting. Not to rub it in, just to recall funny moments. Like when a rainstorm caught you and Jack in the middle of a walk and you raced to the dorms. Or how you and Adam got lost in the park at night because neither of you lived in that city before. Knox would encourage you to spill every detail.

Surprisingly, the more you talked about your love life, the less you heard Charlie talk about his. By winter break you haven't heard him talk about any girl in weeks. At first you didn't notice. Then you figured that maybe he just fell for someone who wasn't as easy to charm so he didn't have anything to brag about yet.

The thought of him being so head over hills for this unnamed person made something inside you feel empty. You knew the feeling well from high school and you detested yourself for still having those sorts of thoughts and feelings. But you decided to let it all fizzle out.

You had better things to think about too. There was a ball coming around. Some fancy tradition at your university. Before you knew it, you had quite a few invitations. The sweetest one was from Jack.

He told you to close your eyes and open your palm. Then, he handed you a handcrafted note asking if you'd like to go with him. Later that day you found another one in your pocket (so that's why he told you to close your eyes) telling you he’s grateful to have you in his life. It was perfect. And officially approved by Knox Overstreet!

When you recounted the story, the guys were pretty happy for you. Before anyone could get a word in, Charlie suddenly asked if you were planning to go with Jack. Sincerely, you affirmed. Why not? He was the sweetest guy and you certainly were done moping around. I mean, you knew that Charlie wasn't going to change his mind so you could as well see if you end up liking someone else.

To your surprise, Charlie wasn't as ecstatic as the rest of the poets. He was rather skeptical and even a bit snarky. Commenting on the guy and just being so… weird about it. It angered you to no end because softly rejecting you is one thing. But trying to get in the way of you moving on? That didn't sit right with you. But your drama queen days were over, so you didn't walk off or anything. Just huffed and looked for a way to change the topic.

At the same time Charlie was thinking. Before college it was easy to reassure himself that he had all the time he wanted to make you his. And all the time he wanted to decide if he would do that at all. Everything was easier back when you didn't talk about any guys. Ever. Now he felt like he had to do something. Damn the risk of ruining the friend group. Damn the fear of rejection. And damn Knox for encouraging this mess.

The last thing you expected was for Charlie to get up suddenly. The poets all looked at him confused. When he stood up, his eyes met yours and he asked you to talk with him outside. Honest to Gods, you had no idea what that was about. But he was being dramatic (more so than usual) and something about the determination in his eyes told you to follow your friend outside. It was snowing and only buildings around you somewhat shielded you from the cold wind.

Charlie didn't waste time choosing words. For the first time when talking to a girl, he was completely raw. Just as it hit him, he blurted out his confession. No overplayed charm. No smirks and winks and cheap tricks. Just him. Charlie Dalton telling you that he likes you. That he had liked you for some time. That you should just, please, think about it.

As the last word fell from his mouth, a heavy silence fell between you. Silence colder than the wind and the snow. But Charlie stood there, undeterred, waiting to see the answer in your eyes. Even at his most frantic, he was confident. He understood that he did what he did, what it meant, and that he grasped this last chance by a miracle. There was no turning back now.

Your response first came muffled, as if the falling snowflakes were absorbing your voice. But finally, you confessed. Not without telling him, how long he made you wait. And how stupid he was acting, if he really just ignored his feelings for this long.

Your talk was tender, full of relief. But, as it happens with Charlie, as soon as the talk of real feelings was out of the way, he dragged you back inside, to announce your happy ending.

You couldn't believe he wanted to brag to your friends at a moment like this. But you just stood there, watching him with a smile. Some things never changed. Charlie certainly didn't. And you wouldn't have it any other way

#fun fact none of those ppl are made up #I just described a few guys from school that I've been talking to #same with the note situation lol #what makes it funnier is that I am in fact going with Jack and he heavily relates to Knox #so while I gave you the watered down version you can imagine the pizazz this guy had when inviting me #that's why I had to add the Knox approved part #they are literalky the same person #dps x reader #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society x reader #x reader

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tofu-loverx · 1 year

Text

Intimate Session

Summary: You wake up as usual with difficulty and head to the kitchen wrapped in sheets like a worm, but wait!! where is the kitchen Rather, where are you!?. Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Dottere. Warnings: none. Type: HCs Note: English is not my mother language, sorry for any spelling errors. Childe👉 💃💃touch me

The sun's rays disturbed the bear's slumber in which you were, so you struggled to leave the comfortable bed sheets and get out of the room.

Your feet touched the unusually cold ground, and you didn't even open your eyes to look for your furry boots.

You grabbed the handle of the door and turned it to go out, and while you were leaving, you heard: "Good morning, your grace."

You didn't care, your big brother used to bother you with such nonsense, because he knew that you loved Ginshin Impact so much.

You continued walking towards the kitchen, but it is strange. The hall is longer than usual, and the path to the kitchen does not end. Finally, you open your eyes and are surprised at the place you are in. You exclaimed in surprise: "Where am I ?"

You started running, trying to understand the nature of your position and find anyone to ask, until you ended up at a semi-open door.

You mustered up your courage and approached him to look inside the room, during which you heard him say: "Your grace? Do you need anything?"

You froze from the sound behind you, your mind fully realized the identity of the sound.

You turned around nervously and immediately recognized the coiffed blue hair and mischievous smile behind the attractive mask.

You quietly: "Nothing…I have to go…"

You backed away like a wounded and cautious animal, but he stopped you when he grabbed your wrist in his strong fist.

Dottore: "I have orders to accompany you if I find you alone."

You are trying to escape from his grasp: "I'm fine!! Also, where am I??" You and I and he and she all know where you are(¬‿¬)

He said, trying not to laugh:" Sorry for my rudeness, but… you saw yourself in the mirror?"

You narrowed your eyes in confusion: "what do you mean?"

He dragged you into the room you were looking at a moment ago, which turned out to be his laboratory.

He made you sit on the operating bed, fearful of what he might do, as Dottore was known for his notoriety and the fact that he regarded others as mere test subjects.

You kept looking around, waiting for a chance to escape. You didn't think it was bad waking up in Teyvat's world but entangling you with the mad doctor? It's really bad.

He came and stood behind you and you closed your eyes in fear, but you felt that hand gently running through your hair and brushing it.

Dottore was not known for his intimate touches, but the situation you are in seems like a dream within a dream.

You will not deny that you enjoyed every second of the hairdressing session, as Dottore was skilled with his hands, especially his sleepy touches.

As soon as he finished, he said smiling: "This is better."

You raised your hands to touch your hair and was surprised by the quality of the braid that he had styled for you. You said happily:" I love it."

He gave you a small smile:" I am glad you liked your grace"

You said while feeling his achievement: "Why do you call me your grace?"

He answered spontaneously:" Because you are"

Looking at him made you feel a severe headache after you rested with him, and his voice was like a siren ringing in your ear. You did not respond to him so as not to make your headache worse.

You now understood the whole situation, and how ridiculous and embarrassed you were that he saw you with your disheveled hair and untidy nightgown.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, and what made the situation more embarrassing was the rumbling in your stomach, which asked you for breakfast.

He pointed out with his hand, saying:" From this way."

On the way to the dining hall u met Childe whose puppy eyes were up to see you awake.

He approached both of you and gave a glare to the man next to him. Then he said:" I'll take care of things now, you can go back and do your experiments"

(Childe in a second part(●'◡'●))

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eufezco · 2 years

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EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

REQUEST — Begging you to do a Eddie inspired by this TikTok https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNScuy5B/?k=1

english isn't my first language 🙏🏻

You've never liked Steve Harrington. He was an arrogant and you thanked the moment you graduated because that way you wouldn't have to see him anymore. But somehow you kept seeing him, every day. He started hanging out with Dustin and your group of friends, he was always around. At first it felt like the worst thing that could've happened to you, like he was an intruder. You barely talked to each other and when you two were left alone together it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world. But eventually your relationship with him changed, you fought the Demo-Dogs together, you got trapped in a secret Russian base together and now you worked at Family Video, together as well. He became your best friend, your ride-or-die, you hated to admit it but he wasn't King Steve anymore. He had changed.

Eddie was already your boyfriend when you started hanging out with Steve, him been worried that Harrington wouldn't have changed as you said and that he'd be just tricking you. You've known Eddie all your life. Your friendship with Steve reminded him of yours before dating. You were kids when you met, his hair was buzz but he was still the most handsome boy the little y/n had ever seen, making her feel a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach every time she saw him walking into the cafeteria looking for her. Little Eddie could feel his cheeks grow hot and turn pink, and his knees go week as he walked towards the little girl. You grew up together. Eddie was your first kiss, your first date, and your first best friend. As you grew older you eventually started looking at each other with different eyes, not like kids anymore. You both needed more of each other, that's when you realized it was more than just a friendship.

Eddie liked that you had built such a strong bond with Steve and just because of that you were willing for them to meet. Sadly that never happened, at least you never got to introduce Eddie to Steve as you boyfriend because the metalhead broke up with you before having to run after being accused of killing Chrissy.

"Are you okay? You look like a ghost." Steve's hand laid on your forehead, he frowned after feeling a normal body temperature. You were putting the returned tapes in their places. The thing is that you really did feel bad, your stomach roaring but just the idea of eating something made you want to puke. Puke. Made you want to puke. The tapes fell off your hands as you ran to the bathroom of the store, Steve following you and holding your hair in a ponytail after you fell to your knees in front of the toilet.

"It's okay. It's okay, just let it out." Your eyes were filled with tears while you vomited everything you've eaten in the last twenty-four hours. Steve flushed the toilet once you were done and left you alone to come back with his bottle of water so you could rinse your mouth. He sat down with you in the bathroom floor, waiting for you to recompose or to drive you home. The tears didn't stop rolling down your cheeks, not even after finishing puking. That's when you realized you weren't crying because of the vomit.

"My period." Steve frowned. "Your period? You need a pad or a ta—?"

"It's the second month I've missed my period. Last month I thought— I thought It was just a one-time thing, my period is never regular so I thought I just needed to wait. But this month—" You couldn't continue. Steve nodding, letting you know that he got what you were trying to say. Should he congratulate you? Should he ask you about what you wanted to do with it? He finally opted for not saying anything, which you deeply thanked. You spent the rest of your shift hiding in the bathroom, Steve coming inside every now and then to check that you were okay and assisting the customers for you. He had to call Robin because it was Saturday and he couldn't deal with all the work alone. When he told you Robin was coming, you told him to ask her if she could buy a pregnancy test for you which Robin did without complaining but with a bunch of questions. Steve answered them all for you.

Two lines. You were pregnant.

You threw the pregnancy test away and went out of the bathroom. Steve was changing the sign on the door from open to close and Robin was counting the money in the cash register. They both turned to look at you and because of your decomposed face, they knew the result of the test. Before they could ask anything, you three closed the store and got into Steve's car, you in the back seat and Robin in the passenger's seat next to Steve.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm having it." Robin was surprised by how sure you were.

"Is it Eddie's?"

"Of course It's Eddie's!"

Who else could it be? You hadn't been with anyone else since your break up, you hadn't been with anyone else in your life and you weren't planning on doing it before he broke up with you. Also, you've been busy working and helping Dustin to figure out how to prove Eddie's innocence. The kid found out where he was hiding a few weeks ago, and your stomach flipped when you saw him again. Eddie's worst nightmare of you getting involved in the mess he was in became true after seeing you walk into the cabin.

When you told the rest of the group they had the same reaction as Steve. They didn't know if they should be happy or if they should make an appointment with your doctor. Eddie couldn't even look into your eyes, staring at the floor all the time and playing with his rings nervously. He knew that since he broke up with you, you've been even closer to Steve. After getting to know him, he was glad that you had him with you. As your best friend. But what surprised Eddie was knowing that you two were a thing now.

"And... how far along are you now?" Nancy asked curiously, the girl just knew about your pregnancy and was curious about it. "Two months." Nancy nodded, showing you a little smile. You had never been really close to her, but you could see on her face that she was happy for you and supported your decision. Eddie looked up from the floor, looking at you for the first time, your eyes still focused on Nancy as she asked you how you were feeling. He broke up with you not even a month ago. Two months ago you were still together. Eddie's eyes connected with Steve's, your best friend behind you, and leaning on an old shelf, staring at Eddie with his arms crossed. Steve shook his head at Eddie when he noticed that Eddie realized what was going on, it was better if Eddie didn't say anything right now but the possibility of you cheating on him with Steve made him ignore the boy behind you.

"Y/n, two months ago we were still together." Nancy went silent, Dustin's body tensing and making him adjust his position on the sofa. Steve ran one of his hands over his face, Robin and Max looking at you out of the corner of their eyes; the first girl because she was checking up on you, trying to act as if she didn't know anything about who the real father was and the second one because she was surprised by this twist. "Hmm- I don't think we were anymore." You shook your head, Eddie raising his eyebrows at you. "I need air." You stated and went out of the cabin. It was a really wet place, maybe that's why Eddie's hair was curly all the time, and that, plus the uncomfortable situation you were going through with your friends made not enough air going to your lungs. Eddie got up from his seat immediately and went out after you, Steve following him outside instead of trying to stop him. It was a great chance for the three of you to talk. You were walking away from the boathouse, Eddie didn't care that he could be seen.

"Don't do that, y/n. You know we were still together two months ago."

"It's Steve's okay? Steve is the father." You turned around to look at Eddie. You knew he was following you because you hear his footsteps after you. Steve allowed you to say it was his, he would do anything for you even if that included raising a child. He loves kids anyways. But after seeing Eddie's defeated expression, this didn't seat right with him anymore. When you looked at Eddie, Steve was behind him. "So you cheated on me." You couldn't believe he even thought about you cheating on him, but you didn't show him any sign that you didn't, you just stood there and turned your back to him, wanting to get to Steve's car. Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, tears began to form in his eyes and him doing his best to hold them back. Since he broke up with you, you've barely talked to each other, just you asking him how was he doing and him asking you the same. But now he really needed to talk to you, and he also needed you to talk to him. "Look man—" Steve got in Eddie's way, interrupting his thoughts and trying to have a converstion with him in the most pacific way as the boy tried to reach you again. "I'm not talking to you, Harrington." Eddie shook his head, walking past Steve and hardly bumping his shoulder against Steve's, making Steve tremble on his feet. Steve let out a huff, recomposing his posture, and blocked Eddie's way again, Steve's hands pushing Eddie's shoulders back. "Back off, Munson."

"Or what?" Eddie confronted Steve. He was sure that that kid was his. As much as you wanted to make everyone, he and yourself believe that it was Harrington's, Eddie knew that two months ago you were still together and that you would never cheat on him. "Hey!" You turned around, angry at their behavior. Steve had his fists twisted in Eddie's t-shirt, your ex-boyfriend with his arm up in the air aiming at Steve's face. You walked in between them, pushing Eddie's shoulders, making him take a few steps backwards to not fall. "You broke up with me! You left, Eddie, you left me because you didn't think I could take all of this shit you're in! Now, It's me who thinks you can't take this. So stop following me and go back to the fucking boathouse before anyone sees you."

That night Steve went back to talk to Eddie. Both men sat at the wharf, their legs dangling but far from touching the water. At first, Eddie was hesitant to talk with Steve, rolling his eyes and going back to reading the comic Dustin brought him when he saw it was Steve. "We need to talk." Your best friend was as uncomfortable as Eddie was with his presence after what happened. Steve went and sat first, Eddie going after knowing that Harrington wouldn't leave until he said what he needed to say.

"Does she know you came here?" Steve shook his head, mumbling a soft 'no'. Eddie let out a sad chuckle. Just as he thought, Steve came on his own because you didn't want to know anything about him. "You left her. You don't leave a girl like y/n." Steve was annoyed by Eddie's little laugh. He looked at the man sitting next to him, he stopped smiling and there was no sign on his face that he was doing it any time soon. "You've definitely never been accused of murder, Harrington."

"Don't bullshit me." Steve said and shook his head at the same time. "You know that baby is not mine." He confessed to Eddie, his eyes shining in contrast to his sad expression. "And you know I still love her." Eddie confessed to Steve, he nodded at his words. "I wouldn't forgive myself if I would've gotten her involve in this." That was the part that Steve didn't believe. He had seen you cry for Eddie, kicking your feet while talking about how much you loved Eddie, angry at him because of how much loved him, and now carrying his child. Eddie had known you for much longer than Steve yet he seemed not to know the things you'd do for the ones you love. Especially for the love of your life. "She has been involved in this for three years now. She's been by my side killing creatures from hell itself, risking her life going into another dimension for her friends, fighting against Russian soldiers but you know what I've never seen her doing? Backing out. You didn't even give her the chance to help you, you just pushed her away. And I'm not saying you deserve any of this..."

Eddie rested his forehead on his knees, covering his face from Steve's sight. They sat there in silence, for the first time it wasn't awkward, Eddie thanking Steve's company and Steve giving Eddie some time. "You can't tell her I told you, you know, that the baby is not mine. I promised not to tell you, I'm breaking her trust in me just by coming here." Steve got up from the floor, cleaning his hands on his jeans. Eddie nodded, he mumbled a soft 'thank you' to Steve, him replying with just a grimace.

Steve left, leaving Eddie alone there again, in the same position he'd been for the past fifteen minutes. He wanted you back, he wanted to raise that kid with you and form the family you've always dreamed about. How could he have done that to you? God, he felt like an idiot, but he'd do anything to have you back.

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so-long-soldier-writes · 4 months

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Cigarettes after sex anon here! I have another song that made me think of Kai. Treehouse by Alex g gives me major “childhood best friends to lovers” with kai

I totally feel that, too! I just listened to it, and now I have another artist I need to binge. 🤗

Also so I was going to answer this normally, but then had a thought about it, so I kept writing and writing, and then it turned into this little drabble thing.

tw: child abuse & neglect, harmful speech, implied sexual content (consensual), sad ending, but not all sad, a lot of it is fluffy

Kai and a childhood best friend would always hang out together. Either in his room for hours or out in the backyard, up in a treehouse, avoiding both of your parents. Maybe you were neighbors, and eventually became a family friend. His parents didn't trust a lot of outsiders, but your family was an exception. Kai’s mother liked how close you two had gotten; she liked her eldest son having your company. She always predicted your friendship would flower into something more. His father, on the other hand, didn't like his son forming close connections. He feared Kai growing too attached to this world, prepared to send him to a prison world at any moment, and was worried Kai would hurt you. Maybe part of him hoped you'd be a good influence, but Joshua never seemed to be a man of high hopes. But since his wife always smiled when you'd come over to play with the isolated twin, he wouldn't argue about the matter.

When you were kids, you'd always come over with your family for little get-togethers hosted by his mother. Your parents would push you towards Jo, but you much preferred the sad, quiet boy in the corner. Kai would push you away at first. He’d ignore you, or snap bitterly at your kindness, wanting you to leave him alone before he could get attached, because if you left after he grew to love your company, it'd hurt so much worse than never getting to know you at all. Yet... you refused to let him push you away, and every time you came over, he'd slowly let you in. Your mind was made, and everyone stopped pushing you where they wanted you to be instead.

As the years went on, you'd invite yourself over alone, without your parents accompanying you. Your parents trusted the Parkers to keep you in good hands, although you there alone made his father nervous.

There was a treehouse outside on the edge of the wooded forest built for Kai and Jo's preteen years. Their father built it before the twins were even born, excited to have produced a future leader for his coven. He'd spent hours everyday working on it, then he'd come inside to chatter about his progress to his very pregnant wife. They were proud of themselves, and although they would expect a lot of their children, they knew they'd be proud of them, too.

But then their dreams were shattered when only one developed magic and the other was determined unable to produce his own. Their pride and joy melted away and they were frowned upon for producing a child with the recessive siphon gene they thought they had rid of years ago. In order to make up for their mistake and restore their pride, they shunned the one away as if he were to not even exist, and started trying for another, normal, set of twins. The treehouse went abandoned.

But then one day when your parents were over to visit and still getting to know the Parkers, your father pointed it out in the near distance, and Joshua had an ah-ha moment about the creation he had forgotten. He blamed its neglect on his family's busy lifestyle, and not at all on the fact that he had built it for his firstborn children that turned out to be a bad batch. He didn't mention that detail. Even looking at the structure reminded him of his failure to his coven.

Not mentioning this little bit led to your parents convincing Kai's to bring them out to see it, and as soon as you and Kai saw it for the first time, you knew it'd be a place you'd always be. Especially considering his youngest siblings couldn't climb that high, and Jo went halfway up the ladder, then climbed back down claiming a fear of heights.

From that point on, you'd always find each other there, or you'd knock on his bedroom door and drag him outside to your personal hideaway. Sometimes Jo would get jealous of the structure built partially for her being taken by her brother and his best friend, but she never wanted to climb all the stairs to scold him, so eventually, she let it go.

The two of you could be up there for hours, or days, even. From sunup to sundown, and sometimes, even overnight. Joshua only allowed it because it put distance between him and his mistake of a son, and sometimes he could forget he existed. He'd see Jo studying at the kitchen table and sigh happily, a false thought in his head at how proud he is to have one very studious girl. He may not have been able to produce twins - maybe his wife was too delicate for that - but he did have one girl whom he loved dearly. (Of course, then, you and Kai would return back inside and his fake little life would be crushed by his reality; he did, in fact, have twins, but one was not and never will be fit to lead his coven.)

Kai's mother, on the other hand, loved sitting on the porch and listening to her son's laughter from far away and high in the sky. She'd keep an eye on her youngest four playing in the yard, but would have an ear out for the two in the trees. Sometimes your parents would join her, and rarely, only if you two were serious and not laughing, Joshua would join, too.

You and Kai were always in the treehouse from the moment you first saw it. Well into your teenage years, and even further, into your twenties, you were still climbing that ladder. You'd have to make a couple repairs - your dad helped; Joshua shook his head when asked - due to wear and weather, but you always kept it in the best condition you could manage. Eventually Kai learned how to make easy repairs by watching your dad. He repaired more broken boards than you could count, and the older you got, the hotter he looked doing it.

Neither of you are certain when the feelings developed. Kai secretly thinks he's always been a little in love with you; that's why it didn't scare him when he first felt it in his heart. His parents' treatment affected him. It numbed his mind until his emotions ran cold and he could no longer recognize them. The only person that could thaw him out was you; the only person that ever told him they loved him. You would say it everyday you saw him, but one day, it had a different meaning, and he could see it in your eyes.

Truth be told, you were more scared than he was. You avoided his gaze and stammered on your words when you tried to explain, "ya know, like friends?" You both knew otherwise. It was no longer "like friends." You quickly changed the topic and moved on to complain about the cold winter approaching, and Kai didn't push you.

Ten years after discovering the treehouse, seventeen years old, Portland had a massive snowstorm. Still, the next morning, upon learning schools were closed, you bundled up and trotted down the street to your best friend's house. You interrupted a crazy morning in the Parkers' living room - four unhappy children griping about their puffy jackets suffocating them - and stole the eldest boy away to your favorite place.

It was awfully cold to be up in the trees. The wind carried through the surrounding woods and there was no heat source in the small house except for the tens of blankets you already had stored in it. Still, you stayed there all day and shared jokes and stories to keep yourselves warm. Snow continued to fall, and for a while, you were scared trees might come down around you, but Kai tried to reassure you you'd be safe. Neither of you wanted to leave, so you convinced yourselves to stay.

Time went on and the sky darkened. At one point, his mother came out to check on you. She brought soup and apologized that the children were so distressed. She offered a silencing spell for Kai's room if you'd like to return to it, but fearing his father, you denied the spell, accepted the soup, and stayed the night in the treehouse. You platonically agreed to cuddle together for warmth, and remained quite warm between the blankets and your bodies pressed close. But by morning, when your legs were tangled together and your face was huddled into his chest - his arms wrapped around your back, lips close to your head - feelings rushed back to you both. That meaningful, "I love you" from the summer before, and the emotions repressed along with it were revived like flowers returning for spring. Cheeks pink with cold became warm with blush as you unwrapped yourselves from the tight grip of the blankets seemingly trying to hold you in place. Apologetic stuttering was interrupted by Kai finally kissing you - rather impulsively, but greatly welcomed. You soon learned that you loved to kiss him, and he realized that he loved you. In three months' time, you'd admit those words for real and he'd say them back happily.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you had five years left with him. You'd both go on to graduate, and regardless of how you spent your time, you'd always carve out enough to go to the treehouse with him. Sometimes his mother would look out the kitchen window and see you kissing from afar in the treehouse window. She could barely make out the shadows of two lovers pressed together, but it was obvious to someone looking. Whenever Joshua would enter the kitchen, she'd stand in front of the window, or drop a pot to bring his attention to the floor. She'd cook him breakfast and guide him to the table, far away from the window, until you'd separate or end up on the ground and out of sight.

Things started to go downhill in nineteen-ninety. His mother had another set of twins and her attention was divided even more greatly. Early March was the first time Joshua had caught you kissing, and the beating he'd given Kai prevented him from being able to climb the treehouse ladder for a week. When his bruises finally healed and the soreness in his body faded, you made a point to be a lot more cautious with your actions. Joshua, however, would yell up from the bottom of the ladder at random hours of the day and expect to see you both. He'd examine Kai's lips and your neck, checking for signs of disobedience from his son. Kai's mother would beg her husband to leave you be, but the hatred for his son would blind his love for his wife.

The unexpected death of his mother ripped the hearts out of everyone in the house. The hole she left was filled with anger, and a penchant for violence settled in the souls of the men left without the peace-keeping woman. Joshua was no longer held back and could express his hatred for the boy. His son, close to the age of merging, yet born disabled and therefore worthless. If he had only been without magic, Jo could win and lead, and that, to him, would be fine. But since Kai was a siphon, he would steal all his sister's magic, and Joshua would be forced to be led by the boy he wishes was never born - his mistake; his failure.

His anger at himself and his son, and his secret plan to deny the firstborn twins of merging, to instead raise and merge the second set, leads to a violence within himself he can't contain. Kai feels it. His own distress has been disturbed by his mother's passing, and some days, not even you can settle him back down. Jo removes herself from the situation, focusing on raising six children by herself, as the two eldest men fight a cold war between themselves. When you get Kai alone, he's not like he used to be. His jaw is tightly clenched. He's on edge and jumpy, or he's stern and harsh with his words. His father's hand is getting harder, and more frequent. Nothing you say or do can stop it, you can only comfort him when you can.

The cold war goes on and makes the Portland winter feel like Antarctica. Joshua only lets Kai go to the treehouse so that he's not in his sight, or within range of the children. You sneak up the ladder once darkness settles into the sky; you're often banned from seeing Kai. His father tells your parents that he's acting out, growing violent, and that it's not safe for you to be around him. They agree, and don't bother to even hear out your side of the story.

Two years past on the day of his mother's death, Kai calls you with a cryptic message. You're away, and have been for a week, and will be for a week more, but he sees a chance and he's going to take it. He tells you he loves you, and you promise him the same, but beg him to let his anger go and go back to sleep. Deep down, you know he won't. He's been restless for weeks. Months. Years. He's had a lifetime of hurt and abuse, and if he's finally snapped, nothing you say will change his mind. You just hope he'll come out of it okay.

When you return home after your trip, your parents hand you a newspaper. Kai is nowhere to be found, and Joshua refuses to answer your banging fist on the front door, and the newspaper is evident to what chance he clearly saw and took. Revenge. His father took his life away when he learned his son was different, so he took the lives of four of his fathers' greatly loved children. You sob until you can't cry anymore, and hole yourself up in the treehouse, cherishing your memories, the broken boards he'd fixed, the soft blankets that would envelope you both, his lingering scent in the air. You'd sleep there for three nights before you'd have to leave again, but this time, you'd take everything inside with you and pack it in an extra suitcase to keep always. The next time you go home for the holidays, the little treehouse is nothing but splintered wood on the edge of the forest floor. You spare it a glance before catching the next bus out of Portland, never going back.

The treehouse still stands in the time capsule that is a 1994 prison world. Kai swears that sometimes he can feel your presence, but with time, he convinces himself it's a trick of his mind. He doesn't know whether to regret what he has done. He had gotten his revenge, yes, but lost you in the process. Though no debate on the matter would help in getting him out, so after a while, he wouldn't let his mind linger on it. For weeks, he stays inside the little house, but it quickly grows cold without you there. The memories begin to haunt him; he's never been more alone.

It's where he first ever gave into you. He'd been pushing you away, but you refused to let him. He finally accepted your hand and let you drag him up the ladder; he finally let himself accept you into his life despite the consequences he feared. There were never any consequences with you, though. You rarely fought, and if you did, you made up by nightfall. You would laugh and play together for hours, and your parents would have to call you down for dinner. You'd paint his nails in bright colors and he'd happily let you, no matter the faces Jo would make when she'd see them later. You'd let him touch you, tracing his fingers up and down your arms, unfamiliar to the warmth accompanied by simple touch.

Into your teenage years, you'd pull pranks and tell jokes. You'd stay up late to watch scary movies, and then you'd cuddle each other comfortingly, whispering positive things until you'd feel better.

You'd share your first kiss tucked away in that little treehouse. You'd have your first time on the cold, hard ground. He laid three blankets down before settling you on top of them. He'd asked maybe a hundred times if you were okay. He even "took you out" on a first date. On a night that his parents were out for a coven meeting, he cooked excessively and picked flowers before inviting you to a little picnic date, tucked up and away in the trees.

Kai reminisces for years in that treehouse. But as time goes on and the house grows cold, the memories become too painful to feel every day. The house stays but he moves away, searching the world endlessly for a way to get back to you.

#asks #kai parker x reader #kai parker oneshot #malachai parker x reader #i just can't answer things normally can i

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deceasedream69 · 2 years

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You're welcome

- "you got the fucking tattoo?! Are you stupid?"

- "the cycle needed to be completed", he said calmly while he sipped from a bottle. I snatched the bottle from his hands

- "you do understand that you completed the cycle where you loose one arm, create the commission and regret saving the world, right?"

- "well, if you put it like that..."

I sighed. I looked at the bottle I just stole from five and took a sip. Regretting it instantly.

- "too strong for you?", He said taking it back. "It'll only be a bad idea" *sip* "if I had the same tattoo my other me had, I just made a few changes"

- "that sounds more like you", I said taking the bottle from him again and taking another sip.

- "children, we need to gather up"

After a long talk about what we should do to save the world we ended even more separated then before, all because of our opinions.

Until an earthquake started. except, it wasn't an earthquake, it was the beginning of the end of the world.

Reggie quickly opened the door to lead us inside our most quickly salvation in the moment.

I saw when he didn't let Klaus in, but I knew Klaus would find a way back in.

<that little bitch>, i thought, he had no remorse in lying to us straight to our face.

We got to the other side, and five started to ask for Klaus.

- "he didn't make it, I'm afraid"

- "he was right behind me"

I glared at five and he stopped asking about it.

*time skip*

- "and how are you so sure he killed Luther and Klaus?", Asked Viktor to Five while they were chatting in the couch.

- "oh, he killed Klaus", I said joining the conversation.

- "how are you so sure?", He asked this time to me.

- "because I saw everything. He'll be back, eventually, he's inmortal after all"

- "and Luther?", Asked five leaning forward.

- "I don't have any proof, but I also don't have any doubt that it was him."

After our little conversation dad reunited us to give us the instructions

- "so, this are the teams I created"

- "nah, I'm coming with Five"

- "young y/n, I did the teams for a reason"

- "a reason that'll only be convenient to you, I'm sure", I said crossing my arms.

- "as you wish", he said changing the teams.

Vicktor, Five and I were a team. We reached the third floor and started to look for... Something.

- "you don't have to keep following me"

- "and risk the chance you loose an arm?"

- "can we please focus?", Said Viktor clearly stressed.

- "what are we even looking for?"

Viktor turned to look at the door.

- "hey...", He said leaving the room to follow Allison.

Five and I kept searching.

- "where's Viktor?", I said popping my head out of the room.

- "I don't know...", Said Five barely listening to me.

I got out of the room but when I noticed Viktor wasn't anywhere near. I entered the room again.

- "Five?", The room was empty. "Five??", I said checking every part of the room, but no sign of him.

- "y/n?", Five exited the room looking for her. Even tho, he complained about y/n following him around he was thankful someone cared so much. He always looked out for her constantly too, without mentioning the feelings he had for her. But he told himself he only felt that way because of the hormones. Wich was clearly a lie because he always had a special trait with her. Since always.

There was no sign of her anywhere.

- "five?!", I really hope this is not the future where I accidentally leave him alone for some time and that's when he looses his arm.

I search around until I found someone, unfortunately, it wasn't five.

- "hey, Viktor, have you seen y/n?", Asked five really worried by now.

- "she was with you, I leave you alone for less then 5 minutes and you're already missing the other?"

- "no, she just got out of the room to look for you but then she never returned. I think it's this place"

- "what do you mean?"

- "once you pass through a door it might change your location, like a portal"

- "hmmm, it doesn't sound impossible... Wait, where's Allison?"

- "she was right here...", They turned to look at each other and began the search.

- "y/n!!!"

- "Allison!!!"

*loud noise*

- "did you hear that?"

- "that doesn't sound like Alison or y/n..."

- "ok, you little shit", I said getting ready to kick his ass, even if I had to do it alone.

He ran at me, and even if I tried to look and act tough, I started to run away from it. Dodging it's spikey ball.

- "hey, look out", said Five teleporting himself and Viktor away from the monster.

- "come on, we can't run, it'll catch us eventually"

- "what's the plan then?"

Then a loud noise sounded from a... Closet.

- "ahhh, finally, someone with strong enough powers. Oh, hey Five, what are you doing here?"

They just pointed to the monster at the end of the hall.

- "so, should we do this?", Said lila to Viktor.

They both started to glow blue and killed the first monster.

- "noise!"

- "we should go to the lobby"

Everyone was at the lobby, except for y/n.

- "where's y/n?"

- "wasn't she on your team?" Said Klaus worried.

- "I lost her...", He couldn't believe nor forgive that action.

- "focus, children. We have a lot to do"

Five climbed the staircase and started to look down.

- "hey! I think I figured it out!"

*broken glass*

- "oh, hell no!", I teleported in front of Five and caught the knife just in front of me. "You really think you can be cutting my Five?!", And with that my eyes started to glow and I melted his knife right on the spot.

I turned around

- "I told you I was going to protect you"

He smiled at me.

I shot a fireball at the monster, throwing him across the room.

His mask fell of, I took the chance and burned his face. Smoke coming out of his armor after he fell.

- "thank you", said Five teleporting next to me.

I hugged him.

- "you're welcome"

#tua five #five hargreeves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves fic #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy season 3 #the umbrella academy #tua fic #tua #tua five x reader #tua season 3

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steponmeinejghafa · 5 months

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Beautiful Girl in a Broken World (TW)

Summary: All your life you have felt powerless against Aleksander. But when he takes things too far, you finally find your voice to stand up to him. Genya attempts to belittle herself, but you don't let her.

Genya Safin x fem!morozov!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Crying, fighting, mentions of sexual abuse, toxic parent.

Note: You're adopted, so it doesn't get weird, I swear. And I don’t remember the catacombs scene word for word, so bear with me :’) also, y/n has a certain amount of selective mutism.

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Ever since you were a child, you had been a very quiet, gentle, and agreeable person. So quiet that you could slip out of a room of three people, unnoticed. So agreeable that you would commit a crime for anyone who you held close to your heart. So gentle that you couldn't bear to even think of raising your voice at anyone who made you feel bad.

Aleksander, your father, took these abilities for granted the very moment he realised how you could benefit him.

He kept you like a secret weapon, unleashing you carefully, using your abilities to his advantage. He gifted you to the Queen as her aide and deputy lady-in-waiting. He was twisted enough to use you as bait for the King, allowing him to do as he pleased with you as long as it meant Aleksander would remain General.

You couldn't say no as his rotten lips went over your skin, you couldn't push him away, because fear for yourself froze you in place, and fear of angering your father made all reason simply vanish from your mind.

Naturally, when the King tired of you, your convoluted father gave him Genya.

Sweet Genya who talked to you every day after you both helped the Queen prepare for her evenings. Kind Genya who always made sure you weren't left alone at mealtimes or during lessons. Beautiful Genya who had all the boys after her, because of her wavy auburn hair and unique amber eyes.

You were furious to find out what he had done. Till date you can remember the white-hot fury that had coursed through your veins as Genya arrived sobbing at your room the first night the King had forced himself on her. The way your skin prickled, your body threatening to unleash unforgiving darkness upon the land as you saw the blood on her thighs and clothes.

However, you still felt guilty about how you couldn't confront Aleksander about it. Still felt angry at yourself for being powerless under his heavy, dark-eyed gaze. Still felt so hopeless because the words died in your throat that day before they could escape your lips.

"What is it now, Y/n?" He had asked as you approached him timidly the next morning.

"Father, I heard that Genya had gone to the King's rooms last night," you had said, trying not to mumble.

"Yes," he had hummed, "She is my spy, Y/n. That doesn't concern you. Your time to serve as a spy for me has passed." With a wave of his hand, he had then dismissed you from the room.

You had wanted to tear out your father's eyes, wanted to scream how could you do this to her, to me? But you couldn't.

So here you were, outside your father's chambers while he punished Genya for deserting him on the other side of the door. Tears ran down your cheeks like rivers from your eyes, as you pounded on the door with your fists, your normally quiet voice raised to a shrill shout, calling out for your father to stop, calling out to Genya to see if she was okay.

He pulled the door open sharply and caught you around the collar, dragging you inside the room.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

Genya was weeping with her head buried in her hands, kneeling on the floor, quaking with fear. Black blood seeped from between her fingers as her shaky hands tried tailoring her wounds shut. You made a move to go to her, to put your arms around her and comfort her, but Aleksander held you back.

"Keep her in the cell," he said scathingly. "Tomorrow everyone will see her face. Everyone will be reminded of the consequences if they dare to try and double-cross me."

"No!" Genya screamed. It broke your heart.

You struggled against your father's iron grip weakly. "Father, no, please don't do this, I'm begging you!"

"Silence," he said sternly, as if you were just some otkazat'sya who he couldn't bother listening to, and you did just that.

Another win for him. Typical Y/n.

"Come," he said, beckoning you to where you knew he was keeping your grandmother.

Baghra. You adored her from the moment you had met her all those years ago. She didn't show it much, but you knew she adored you back. A rare phenomenon in her case. Aleksander had imprisoned her, just to work on another amplifier so he could defeat Alina.

"Sit down," your father ordered the moment you entered the room.

"Baghra," you whispered, trying to get her to look at you. "Grandmother."

She did look at you, finally, and gave a small nod of understanding towards you.

The guards had set up a second cage beside hers, and in that, they stuffed Genya. You made a noise of protest, but it was too soft for them to hear. You made eye contact with her and your e/c irises said it all.

I'm sorry.

You hoped she wouldn't look at you with loathing, hoped she didn't hate you now. Hoped that she knew how much you loved her, and that you would try your hardest to be heard, try to be a crack of thunder in a storm instead of just a gentle breeze on an autumn evening.

She looked at you like she always had, with warmth and adoration. Her blinded eye, too, somehow held that expression. It vanished, however, the moment the Darkling looked at her.

"Put out your foot, Y/n," your father ordered. You frowned and did just that, but you didn't see the mallet coming.

Aleksander nodded at the nearby guard, who took the mallet and swung it down onto your shin, shattering the bone with a sickening 'crunch'. You felt red-hot pain sear through your body, and cried out, clutching your leg gingerly.

"Why would you do that?" You screamed, shocking everyone in the room. No one had ever heard Y/n Morozova ever raise her voice. Hell, some of them thought you were mute. "I didn't do anything!"

Aleksander gestured at a Heartrender standing at the door, ordering him to extract some of the bone shards from underneath your skin.

"Hold her down," he ordered the guards. You thrashed about as much as your pain-riddled body would allow, sobbing uncontrollably. Both with pain and betrayal.

"Aleksander, stop this madness!" Baghra exclaimed as the Heatrender readied himself to remove the shards from your leg. "She's just a child!"

"A girl of nineteen is hardly a child," said the man with as much emotion as a teabag, speaking over your cries and screams of pain, as well as Genya's pleading voice. "Her bones are as valuable as yours, since she has some Morozova blood within her, and she is thus an amplifier."

"Do I repair the rest of her leg, General Kirigan?" Asked the second Grisha who had come in with the Heartrender.

Dismissively, Aleksander nodded, and the Healer set to work. However, with the missing chunks of bone, he said, "I'm afraid she will need a cane for the time being. If the cast doesn't work and she feels pain after the next one week, it means she'll have to use the cane for the rest of her life."

"No matter," shrugged your father.

How could he?

You waited till the Healer had fixed you up as best as he could, trying your best to ignore the pain which was still very sharp in your leg.

"What in the name of the Saints do you mean 'no matter', Father?" You scowled. "Does the fact that I'm a cripple now mean nothing to you?"

"Broken things are more fragile even if you fix them," said Baghra. "You know this, Aleksander."

"Y/n," Aleksander's voice was gentle and kind. He always did this. One moment he was the best father in the world, all kind words and sweet smiles, and the next, he was a monster in a man's body, watching as a stranger shattered his daughter's legs. "Think of how powerful we would be-"

"No," you said softly.

His gaze hardened. "No?"

You shook your head, "I'm done with your games, Father. This," you nodded at your leg, "This was the last straw. I cannot walk properly anymore. You mutilated the girl I love, and put my grandmother through things far too violent to recount. I loved you, she loved you, and Genya trusted you."

He rolled his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

You knew you couldn't attack him. It would risk unleashing the nichevoya. So you used your words instead.

"Are you so oblivious?" You whispered. "All my life I have agreed with you, done as you asked. I let a man violate me in unspeakable ways, just because I did as you asked. You have used me, you have used my Genya, and you have used Baghra. You are a disgusting man, Aleksander Morozova. A disgusting man, son, father, and general.

Did you feel nothing when I came to you with blood on my nightgown, crying about the King? Did you feel nothing, when I said I didn't want Genya playing your spy?" Your eyes brimmed with tears. "Did you feel nothing when that guard smashed my leg and broke it like a stick?"

"Sacrifices for power," he sighed. "You are too young to understand."

"Age and eternity have made you emotionless," you shook your head. "They have stripped you of your ability to love, to cherish, to feel. You sacrifice to fill that void, you sacrifice because you know that alone, with your sins, you are not enough."

You felt fear seize your body when he caught you by the collar again and threw you nearly clean across the room.

"Learn your place, girl," he seethed. "I am your father. Never speak to me that way again."

You struggled to get to your feet, leaning against the nearby wall. Anger kept within for too long bubbled up within you, heating up into white-hot fury.

"My place, Father, isn't something you can dictate. This isn't Fjerda, this isn't the medieval times. I am a woman, a girl, a daughter. I have stayed silent for too long, letting you do with me, with others, as you please," you clenched your fists, darkness cloaking the room threateningly. "So, Father, do you ever want to say you're sorry? Will you try to make amends? Try to be a better person?"

"Quite the speech," he raised a brow. "But I am powerful, and no one will stop me from getting my Summoner. Especially not you."

He took you by the arm firmly and led you out, not caring that you were limping and hopping terribly. Genya cried out for you, begging him to be gentle, but with no avail.

"Stay in your room," he seethed, shoving you inside your room none too gently. "I have business to attend to."

You waited till he closed the door, and collapsed on your bed, screaming bloody murder into the pillow as you cried.

--Time Skip--

Night had fallen, and till then only one guard had knocked on your door to give you food.

"Cripple," he spat in Ravkan, making you nearly use the Cut on him in anger.

Your father hadn't returned yet from his twisted expedition, and you decided it was high time you broke your best friend and grandmother out of jail.

You knew that the guards deserted your corridor at exactly nine-thirty for patrol rounds. Quietly, or at least as quietly as you possibly could be, you snuck down the corridor to the room where you knew they were.

You slipped inside the room, and knelt in front of Genya's cage, breaking the lock with all your strength. It was rusty from lack of use, and came apart with the barest of snaps.

She avoided your gaze and covered her face with a hand, shrinking away from your touch. She didn't want you to see her this way. You found it odd, but shrugged it off. Naturally she wouldn't want to see you. You were the Darkling's daughter. She had no business looking at you the same.

"Please, get yourself to safety," you said quietly, moving away from her.

You felt hurt that she seemed to think you were like your father, that she seemed to fear you just as she feared him. You turned to Baghra's cage and broke the lock as well, feeling a little twinge of happiness on seeing her smile slightly.

You knelt in front of her like a knight would kneel before his King, ignoring the pain in your leg, and said, "I'm sorry for how my father has treated you. I'm willing to pay for his sins, I swear on it."

Baghra touched your shoulders gently, prompting you to rise. "Don't take accountability for Aleksander's sins, child. This was his choice, and he must pay for it. You are not defined by his actions, because you have proved time and again that you have tried your best to rebel against him."

You scoffed a laugh, helping her up. "I can hardly call cowering and giving unheard suggestions 'rebellion'."

"You'll understand what I mean with time, my dear," smiled the woman. She looked at Genya, who had laid waste to the table, save the bottle of amplifier which she now held in her hand.

You three escaped just barely, because your limp slowed them down. You apologised profusely along the way, and when they paused for a rest, you scoured for a branch which could double as a cane for you temporarily. When you did, walking became a thousand times easier. The entire journey, Genya didn't speak to you or look at you. Whenever you moved close to her, she'd scurry farther down the path, muttering to herself.

'I'm not like him,' you wanted to say. 'I'm in love with you, Genya, I'd never do anything to hurt you.'

But of course, the words didn't come.

Finally, you three came upon the hideout where everyone was. Genya was tackled in a hug by Alina, while you hung back, standing behind Baghra timidly. You knew you wouldn't be welcome there.

"Baghra," Alina said with relief, moving over to her. However, the second she did, the woman moved forwards to reveal your quietly standing figure.

Disgust painted everyone's faces and you saw people draw weapons, or, in the case of the Grisha, put their hands up defensively.

You didn't say anything.

Alina's piercing gaze was enough to make you want to shrink into the walls, and you nearly cowered with fright when she readied herself to attack.

"Alina," you were shocked as Genya spoke up. "She's harmless, don't worry."

"She's about as harmless as a viper," scowled the girl.

“Alina, trust me, she’s not like him,” said the redhead. “She’s the opposite.”

You put your hands up in surrender and shook your head, "I-I'm nothing like my father, I swear."

"I vouch for that," Baghra said with a nod.

"Fine," sighed Alina. She nodded at your leg, "How'd that happen?"

You cleared your throat and willed yourself to speak louder. "My father. He smashed my bone with a mallet to use as an amplifier."

"Saints," she scoffed, "That man is a psychopath. Tamar," she looked at the Heartrender, "Please see to it that she has a proper cane, and do help ease the pain a bit."

"T-thank you," you stammered, nervous of the girl who's eyes were no more scathingly trained on you. They were soft with concern, as she smiled slightly and nodded.

"Come on then," the Shu girl grinned, taking you by the arm gently. "Let's get you patched up better."

You nodded and followed her out, while Genya went to tend to Adrik.

Twenty minutes of excruciating pain later, your leg was mostly healed, but given the way it had been broken, they said there was close to no chance for your complete recovery.

A Fabrikator named Viktor fashioned a cane for you from the branch you were using. It was jet black, of course, with an intricate design of roses etched into the wood from the handle till the bottom which had a cap of silver on it.

You thanked him and Tamar smiled at you.

“Truly, you are unlike your father,” she said.

You blushed shyly and softly replied, “I’ve never found cruelty to be my area of expertise.”

Tamar patted your arm and helped you up, making sure you were putting your weight on the cane and not your leg.

You went to check on Genya, who, upon seeing you, fled from where she was sitting in front of Adrik, helping heal his hand.

“G-Genya?” You called out after her, your voice barely raised at all as you limped after her with as much speed as your leg would allow. “Please wait a moment, please.”

You both stopped dead in your tracks, when you ran into the Queen.

“You!” She gasped. “Guards! Guards!” She cried out, looking around frantically for them, her pale hair fluttering around her face.

She caught Genya by the wrist and seethed, “You both will pay for what you did! You monsters!”

“Please-please leave her be,” you pleaded, limping closer to the Queen, resisting the urge to beat her senseless with your new cane.

“Well,” she glared at Genya, “At least now you look like what you truly are,” she turned to you, “And you deserve to be crippled, you repulsive girl.”

“I-“ you faltered. You deserved it, didn’t you? You tried not to cry, as you gathered your thoughts, saying, “Please let her go,”

Genya yanked her arm out of the Queen’s grip, having had enough.

“Ask me how I did it,” she said, with venom in her voice. “How we did it.”

Your heart leapt. She mentioned you in passing, that was good. Perhaps she didn’t hate you after all.

“What?” The woman was baffled.

“Ask. Me.” Genya said forcefully. The queen made a nod as if to ask, and the redhead continued, “Y/n made the poison. She wanted her revenge anyway. So, I put it on my body, for weeks. So that every time he touched me, every time,” her voice lowered to a hesitant whisper, “he kissed me, he would take a little bit into himself.”

“All he had to do was stop coming to her bed,” you softly added in.

Seething, the woman replied, “He was your King,”

“He brought it on himself,” Genya spat.

“He took advantage of innocent girls, girls who couldn’t fight back, because he was our King,” you limped forward to stand beside Genya, mustering up courage to look the Queen in the eye. “It was because he was our King, we were terrified to speak. Because no one would’ve believed us. And even if they did, they couldn’t do anything about it. So do you blame us, your Highness, can you blame us, for taking matters into our own hands?”

“Oh? The Darkling’s mute little puppet girl speaks,” scoffed the queen, making you shrink back with shame. That tone stung you hard. Where they never took you seriously, where people only saw you as a pushover who had no voice. “You both are monsters, murderers.”

“Madraya,” Nikolai’s smooth voice was a saving grace in this fight.

“Nikolai! You heard them, arrest these murderers!” She said, looking at her son.

He looked horrified. “No,” he shook his head. “Not after what I heard.” He looked at her with disbelief on his features. “Both of them were under your protection.”

“They are servants,” she scoffed in disgust. “And the cripple is a puppet for the enemy!”

“And you, the Mother of Ravka,” he said. “Your subjects were to be like your children. All of them,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and brought you forward. Your eyes stayed riveted on the ground. “And Y/n? Just by being here, she has shown that she is no puppet for the Darkling.”

The Queen huffed and flounced off, skirts billowing around her as she did.

“Thank you,” you nodded and moved back, when Genya turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” said Nikolai.

“It’s not your fault,” said Genya, as she walked away.

You limped after her, calling out her name in vain. However, you cornered her at last in her rooms.

“Saints,” you panted, your leg aching horribly. You leaned your cane against a wall and tried catching your breath. “Saints, that hurts.”

“Y/n, please leave,” she said, packing up a bag for herself.

“No!” You said, annoyed. She looked at you at last. “No, Genya, I won’t leave.”

"Why not?" She scoffed. "Look at me, Y/n."

"I always am," you said. "I am always looking at you, Genya."

"Are you, now?" She laughed drily. "Honestly, Y/n, you don't have to pity me, alright? We aren't on the same boat, if that's waht your thinking."

"I have always thought we were oceans apart, Genya. With you all confidence and kindness, while I shrank away from the slightest word spoken to me," you said, your e/c eyes shining in the dim light, making it look like they had stars in them. "But that didn't stop me from loving you."

She looked at you incredulously, "Loving me?"

"Yes," you smiled, limping over to her hesitantly. "Since the day we met, I never stopped loving you. And this day is no diffferent. Scars or no scars, you, Genya Safin, are stronger than Grisha steel, and more beautiful than anyone I have ever encountered. You are a beautiful girl in a broken world, and-and if anything, your scars make you more beautiful in my eyes. It would be my honour to say that I am yours, Genya."

She stepped closer to you, taking your hands in hers. "Can you bear waking up to a scarred old face beside yours every morning?"

"It isn't something to bear, because burdens and problems are what we bear. This is no problem. It is a trophy, a symbol of your victory and strength, my Genya," you smiled. "I understand if you wouldn't want me, though."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" She asked. You were too oblivious, in her opinion. Had you forgotten the nights you both slept together, wrapped up in each other's embrace? The times she'd kiss your forehead to make you feel better? The times she hadn't denied it when people asked her if you and her were a thing?

"I am a cripple now, Genya," you accepted it with a shake of your head. "You protect and care enough for people. I don't need you doing that for me, because it would just add on to your own personal burdens.”

Genya came closer to you, taking your hands in hers. Her seeing eye was a deep gold in the dim light—a shard of the setting sun sparkling with love.

“Have you never noticed that I am in love with you?” she asked, making your heart leap. “Do you know how many times I’ve kissed your forehead, wishing it was your lips? Wishing that we could embrace with just the sheets between our bodies?”

“Um…” you felt yourself lean on her palms slightly. “Sorry,” you nodded at her hands clasping yours a little tighter now, with the weight on them. “But why did you run from me?”

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled sadly. “I ran because I thought that you would find me ruined now, with this.” She touched her fingers gingerly to her scars.

“Never,” you shook your head, shifting your weight to put more on your good leg, so you could hold her face in your hands. “My Genya, you should never think you aren’t the most gorgeous woman on the face of this planet, because Saints alive, I have never seen a woman so kind, loving, and caring as you. It shows on your face, and it only makes you more breathtaking.”

In the dim light, you saw her blush, just the barest dust of pink under her skin.

“That’s probably the most you’ve spoken in your whole life,” chuckled the redhead, leaning into your touch. It startled you, and in turn, made you blush a rather unsubtle red.

“I-um,” you tried pushing out the words which wanted to leave your lips so desperately, but all you could do as she stepped closer to you was exhale softly, “Genya…”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name that way,” she smiled, looking up at you slightly as her hands rested on your waist. Her gaze skirted down to your lips and to your eyes as she asked, “May I?”

Your heart leapt, the words struggled again. You nodded wordlessly and she tilted her head up, pressing her slightly dry yet soft lips on yours. The words came again as you both stood there in the dingy underground room, just kissing.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thumbs stroking her cheeks as you prayed to all the Saints that your palms weren’t sweating. You wanted this moment to last, this first kiss to extend into forever. The world faded around you, the panic of your father’s attack, the fear you felt in front of the Queen, all forgotten as you focused on Genya.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words didn’t come, they failed you again. But you didn’t mind this time.

You smiled against her lips, and kept your e/c eyes riveted on her as she pulled away, her face finally cracking into a large, bubbly grin.

You let your hands fall from her face and held her hands in yours, trying not to giggle.

“Did we just do that?” She asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, folding your lips into your mouth as a loud, childlike giggle threatened to escape your lips.

She leaned up to kiss your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Perhaps we could work on your voice sometime?”

“Um,” you nodded your head and asked, “Would-would you help me?”

“Of course, Y/n,” she smiled.

“I-I’ll speak a hundred words a minute for-for you,” you said, out of breath suddenly. “It will just take some time…”

“We have all the time in the world, my love,” she brushed her thumb gently over your bottom lip, causing a shudder to go down your spine.

You took her hand and kissed it gently, before pressing another kiss to her cheek where her longer scar was.

“All the time in the world,” you repeated with a smile.

She nodded and took your hand, holding it while you grabbed your cane and the both of you walked out of the room, back to where the others were.

As the torchlight cast long shadows on the wall, and you sat beside her silently while the others gave strategies on their next move.

Ever so often you would glance at Genya, who wore a thoughtful look on her face. The dim torchlight fell from behind her, highlighting her profile in gold.

‘Why have you condemned her to suffer such hardships?’ You silently asked the Saints. ‘Why do you make every effort to make her suffer?’

The answer was a simple one, which you could practically hear those damned Saints reply.

Because fate isn’t kind to those who have beauty like hers.

Because she is a beautiful girl in a broken world.

———————————————————————

This one was so sad to write- but I hope you enjoyed it! I am accepting requests, so feel free to send over an anonymous idea or send me a dm <3

#shadow and bone #genya safin #genya safin x reader #wlw #female y/n #aleksander morozov #alina starkov #baghra morozova #tamar kir bataar #tolya yul bataar #nadia zhabin #adrik zhabin #sad #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #selective mutism #toxic parents

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