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nanaminsmoon · 1 year

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babydaddy!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: so there was meant to be more at the end but it was getting too long, so i'll have to save it for another day...👀but here's more pain ig😁

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, connie calls reader; 'ma', 'dime que eres mía, ma' ('tell me you're mine, ma'), 'y/d/n' = 'your daughter's name', n word usage

wc: 3270 + lazily proofread bc i'm tired but i'll do it tomorrow

within the passing of a few months, connie had reintegrated himself into your lives, and had merged the three of you into the family he had always wanted. the evening that had caused it had ended with connie looking to his side, when you and your daughter’s laughs and mumbles had died down, only to see you both asleep. deciding he couldn't just observe your deep slumber for the rest of the night, he'd cool the warm smile on his face and turn the tv off. then, ensuring his movements were small so as to not disturb you both, he'd move to lift your daughter, before carrying her upstairs. he'd help her sleepily brush her teeth, put her in bed, then peck a goodnight kiss onto her forehead. the muscles in his neck would tense at the thought of leaving you alone, considering the afternoon you had spent together. so you’d wake up to connie carrying you bridal style to the bathroom where he’d sit you on the closed toilet, and help you sleepily brush your teeth, and do your skincare routine. light chuckles would leave his mouth at your drowsy agitation but his hands would remain busy, putting your bonnet on, clothing you in his shirt before, finally, joining you in bed.

that pattern would repeat a few times a week and, soon, seeing connie would no longer be an occasion reserved for fridays and sundays. because, lips pouted and long eyelashes laid comfortably as his eyes shut, connie would the first thing you’d see most mornings a week. soon, your pillow would be replaced by his tatted arm; from the second your eyes blearily shut, to the second the sun peeking through the gaps in your curtains forced them open. frequent visits would see space cleared in your closet and, connie would place a grateful kiss on your temple before filling said space with his clothes. he practically lived with you but, not yet old enough to fully understand her parents’ relationship dynamic, your daughter would be questioning why her dad wasn’t going home, at least once a day.

”we’re just having a sleepover, mama”, you said, hands busy doing her hair for school. luckily, she’d reply with a carefree nod and refocus her attention on her ipad. and, when you’d look over your shoulder, you’d see connie smiling to himself as he placed pancakes on her plate.

to the onlookers at the zoo, seeing your daughter sat on connie’s shoulders with one of his hands on her leg and the other intertwining its fingers with yours, you were a family. the same could be said for those who saw the three of you in matching shoes at the airport, going on a vacation paid for by connie. unbeknownst to them, those onlookers were admiring the wonderfully illustrated cover of a book with empty pages. because, to you, all you were was a question mark succeeding a multitude of questions. pushing someone to define something that seemingly rejected definition reeked of conflict, but the faint smell of heartache was growing in strength and you needed to fan it out before it permeated your home. so, laid on connie’s chest like most nights, you’d push yourself to ask him what had been on your mind for weeks.

”so when are you leaving?”, a small laugh would be added at the end of the question, to avoid sounding confrontational. and the skin pressed up against your cheek would move as a chuckle rumbled underneath it.

”why, you want me to leave?”, connie looked down to you, placing two fingers under your chin to make your lips more accessible to his own. and they’d be connected as you shook your head, in response to his question, before you pulled away to speak again.

”no. it’s just…what do i tell y/d/n when she asks me why daddy lives here now?”, you’d ask. making the questions light-hearted diluted their severity to connie. but when you’d sit up, obviously waiting for an answer, his face would drop slowly.

reality brought questions that connie had no answer to, that’s why he had just chosen to live in a fantasy. over the course of a few months, connie had used all the air in his lungs to inflate a protective bubble that’d shelter the family he’d been fighting to retrieve for years. joy was an emotion specially reserved for when he was with his girls, so his greed to stay joyful grew. in turn, connie never went home. boundaries had never been considered, much less the thought of ever crossing them. but now they were being demanded of him, he’d have to pop the bubble he had made, and face the harsh actualities he dreaded. holding off on what needed to be done did not make the task disappear, it just allowed connie to live like everything was perfect for a little longer.

”you think we could ever get back together?”, he asked, eyes monitoring you closely. his unexpected words pushed a laugh out of your mouth, while also lifting your hand to slap his chest. obviously, you thought connie was joking, but one look at his face would alert you of the opposite.

”you serious?”, your question would make connie pause, before his nod at you sent your heart crashing into your stomach. the weight of it should’ve been enough to anchor you to the bed, but the strength of your shock would overpower it to lift you onto your feet.

a slow dance in your kitchen, to end the candlelit dinner connie had prepared for you, had ended in your bodies being bare as your clothes covered the floor. hence why the first piece of clothing you’d pick up would be connie’s, yet you’d put it on anyways. and, as he put his boxers on, connie would watch your stood form as your face rested in your hands. though his subconscious had tormented him with demos of this very scenario, seeing your reaction in real time wounded connie far more than his nightmares ever had. your reaction had sewn his lips shut, so he’d be tasked with unpicking every stitch helping him swallow his feelings just so he could speak words he had heard many times before but never thought he’d say,

”y/n, what are we?”, your features would gather to form a grimace, before your feet would shift you towards the door. but connie’s hands wouldn’t let you get far, as they’d reach to grab your arm and pull you back to him.

”i’m in love with you, and you know that. that’s why i’m here every damn day, because i want this back”, he pointed between you two, ”i want our family back. i want this to just be normal for us, and for y/d/n to know that i’m not going nowhere”, even if you wanted it to, your head wouldn’t cease its shaking as you listened to connie. his confession confused your heart as much as it embraced it.

”then you shoulda thought about that before you fucked the both of us over”, your mouth worked hard to multitask; speaking your mind, and swallowing your rising tears.

the reason for your separation differed depending on who was asked; connie’s version of events stated that he wasn’t mature enough for you at the time. though you’d agree, you’d also add the fact that you had never felt like he was serious about you. conversations about your future had led to either dead ends or arguments. and, once the baby arrived, the noise of blaring music was more inviting to connie’s ears than the sound of new-born tears. if not him, then you would have to be the one to put you and your child first. many told you to wait it out, but you refused to wait for connie to learn how to prioritise. and his stubborn nature meant that connie would put up an unbothered front, and let you walk out his life.

over time, he settled down and you found that connie could be an amazing father when he wanted to be; he'd buy you a house, and ensure you never had to worry about money by providing you with an allowance. his logic behind it was that, seeing as your daughter was with you most days of the week, he wanted you to worry less about work, and more about mothering your child. changes in his behaviour led your friends and family to urge you to get back together, but you knew that his improvements as a father were not indicative of his improvements as a partner. truth be told, the fear of him fucking shit up again was what kept you away from him. even as he came back to you with his pleading heart on his sleeve, you shut him down and suggested just fucking as friends. complications with that arrangement arose when you fell for him again, but let your ego suppress those feelings. now they were bullying their way out of your heart and you no longer saw a need to stop them.

a small voice in connie’s mind berated him, and reinforced the idea that the reason you could never take him back was because he only existed in your life to pain you; from your breakup, to ruining your new relationships, to inserting himself back into your life without warning. that voice told him that you’d never love him again because he had done nothing to merit receiving affections as pure, and wholly perfect, as yours. and, seeing his actions bring tears to your eyes amplified that voice and he’d pull you closer, hoping that holding you would mean that your pain would seep through the pores in your skin and be absorbed into his body instead. small kisses would be planted on your temple as connie slowly walked backwards to sit on the bed, leaving you stood between his legs.

”i know i fucked up, it haunts me everyday. you shouldna had to wait for me to grow up, but…i’m ready now. i want this more than anything; i want to give y/d/n siblings, i want us to get married, and live together again. i just…need you to give me a chance”, connie’s eyes looked up to project the warmth of their sincerity onto your face, and all you could do was sigh. sure, he was was giving you what you had been wanting to see, and hear, from him for years, but was that enough to wipe out everything that had preceded it?

”a chance to do what?”, you spoke, quietly.

”to prove how much i want this.”, he said, squeezing your hands in pleading. if giving him a chance would cement his behaviour from the last few months, then you really had nothing to lose. it’d make him happy, it’d make your daughter happy and, as much as your ego didn’t want you to admit, it’d make you happy as well. so you’d roll your eyes before nodding at him, and giggling when you saw the small smile gracing his face. it’d rest there for all of two seconds before contorting into something that showed different intentions as he lifted your shirt up.

missing connie was something you hated doing, but making up for lost time was one of your favourite pastimes. so, you’d feign annoyance as you pushed him off, but you’d still be giggling like a schoolgirl as you moved his hands from your body. and, somehow, connie’s head would find its way into your shirt, his lips soon kissing your skin before moving to suck on your nipples. eager hands would take it upon themselves to migrate to the back of connie’s head, keeping his lips against you. and that’d encourage the impatient ones, stuck to your back, to harshly pull you into his deep kisses as he nipped at your navel ever so often. it was shameful how quickly connie made you uncomfortably wet; all it took was a series of wet kisses on your skin, mixed with his fingertips delicately trailing it, to deepen your breathing. but that’d be cut short when connie’s lips detached from you, as he moved out of his your shirt.

”lemme see how beautiful my girl looks”, he said, scrambling to lift the fabric off you. though your hands would help him, your mind would still be caught up on his wording.

”your girl?”, you raised an eyebrow, and he looked up at you in confusion,”you ain’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet”, you hiding your now bare chest, and he’d roll his eyes.

”i ain’t just do that?”, he asked, desperately trying to uncross your arms so he could continue what he was doing.

”what—nigga, no! you gotta ask me”, you said and, as he went to open his mouth, you’d place two fingers on his lips, ”not now, properly. and i know you got money, so use it”, you grinned.

keeping your arms crossed left connie no other choice but to pick you up, and practically throw you on the bed. the sight of your tits bouncing from the recoil of you landing on the messy pillows and sheets, enlarged the growing bulge in his boxers so he’d rid himself of them almost immediately. as always, your expectant silence would be filled by the sound of his dick hitting his stomach. and the angry redness of his tip had you anticipating connie dicking you down until you felt like your internal organs were shifting in location. but, once he was inside you, he’d be moving at an agonisingly slow pace; the harsh prods you had been expecting to meet your cervix, were more akin to amorous pecks. that's because telling you how he felt had never been enough for connie; beit anger, neediness, or jealousy, connie needed you to feel what he was feeling. so, bearing a love for you that was so deep he could feel it in the pits of his stomach, connie wanted to replicate that for you with his dick. he wanted to know that when he pulled out, you’d feel an emptiness somewhat similar to how he felt when he was away from you.

and, as he fucked into you, you could feel it all; his regret for his past actions stretched you out until you were clawing at the skin on his back. the love he never got to give you multiplied with every touch of that spongy spot inside of you, and the words he could never say would be breathed onto your feverish skin. never in your life had you known connie springer to get overstimulated, but here he was; body adhered to your own with sweat, as he cloaked laboured whimpers with painfully honest admissions,

”i just need you so bad, ma. i hate being by myself”, he'd speak into the sticky skin on your shoulders, and comforting hands would be on his nape, massaging it softly. connie had once fooled himself into thinking that the only reason he only ever fucked you in missionary was because it was too boring to try with new people. but the truth was that it created an intimacy he only ever wanted to share with the woman of his dreams. and now that he had her legs wrapped around his waist, and her moistened eyelashes blinking up at him, he’d revel in this intimacy until he physically couldn’t anymore.

that point would seem near when, due to overstimulation and how good you felt, the blissful noises tumbling out of your mouth would raise in volume. quickly catching on, one of connie’s hands would be placed over your mouth to stifle the impending noise sure to fill the room when you came. quick reflexes would mean that connie's name, as well as random expletives, would be chanted repeatedly into the palm of his hand as you came around him. pleasured cries would fade into quiet babbles and, to connie, the fact that you could still will your lips to move meant that you weren't too fucked out to speak to him and, of course, he was wrong.

”dime que eres mía, ma”, connie begged of you. and, if you could form critical thought, you would’ve done so immediately. but anytime a coherent sentence would connect in your mind, the chain of words you had accumulated would be broken by connie’s dick sending you spiralling. yet you'd try anyways,

”i’m-m all yours-s, pa, i p-promise”, you said, and the satisfaction of hearing those words quickened his movements. his hands seemed to be digging deeper into the flesh around your hips because, looking at his dick disappear inside of you only to come out smothered in a mix of your arousals, was all connie could focus on. if it wasn’t rock solid already, that view would've made connie’s dick painfully hard. instead, all it did was make him twitch inside of you, causing him to curse at himself; connie knew what his body could handle, so he knew that one more nut would knock him the fuck out and he wouldn’t be fucking again until morning.

'pissed' did not even begin to describe how that made him feel, because all he wanted was to fuck his love so deep inside you, you’d be seeing love hearts everywhere for months. he needed you to feel how much he cared for you, and he felt like he needed all night to do that. but you two didn't have all night and you seemed to be the only one who cared,

”n-need you t-to nut, pa, i g-got work tom-morrow”, you said, and his eyes would finally look to your face again. ’how did i look away when she looks that fucking good?’, he thought to himself as his hand moved to your cheek. as opposed to when it was gripping your hips, it was loving when it touched the feverish skin on your face. honey was dripping out of connie’s eyes to dribble onto the place you two connected, and he’d fuck his decadent adoration into you over and over again until your eyes rolling back in pleasure sent him over the edge, and his hips stilled,

”fuck, why you so—fuck—pretty?”, his words landed on your stomach as his head bowed. the feeling of connie filling you for the nth time that night tightened your walls around him, and he’d wince at the torturous bliss that gave him, as he tried to catch his breath. he'd do so considerably quicker than you so he'd be the first to move, getting up to get a moist, warm towel to clean you up.

”all mine, yeah?”, he teased and, still working on recovering your thought processes, all you could offer would be a lazy hand shooing him away.

”imma make you mine properly tomorrow when i finally put that second baby in ya.”

#nanaminsmooninc #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie springer x black reader #aot connie #connie springer

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revasserium · 10 months

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Im here to say that college!au opla!zoro is your most superior zoo version yet. Please share any more thoughts you have on this cute couple!!!! I love their dynamic so much

listen;;;;;; i love college!au opla!zoro so much. so…… because i am… unwell about this man, sfw and nsfw headcanons/snippets of college!au opla!zoro (most of this is based on the death before decaf fic where zoro is a fencer and reader is a physical therapy major):

sfw:

afternoon naps on the ratty old couch in the living room of his dorm; luffy is his roommate who is simultaneously never there but also randomly always there at the weirdest most inopportune moments

“what did you say he studies?” “uh… something about international policy but he got in on a sports scholarship too.” “yeah? what’s he do?” “gymnastics.” “wait — seriously?” “yeah he’s /weird/ flexible.”

sharing pizza at midnight, sitting in his lap as he scrolls through highlight reels of past olympic fencing bouts, his chin occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he explains all the different rules and moves; you can feel the light stubble, feel the deep rumble of his voice along your arm where it’s pressed against his chest

him kissing you awake, opening your eyes to find him smiling, smirking, more like — “morning…” “mornin’. you were drooling on my pillow.” “shut up!” “nah, it was cute.” more kissing, you trying to shove his face into the pillow, him easily pinning you beneath him, arching an eyebrow; you sigh, blushing, “it’s too early for this.” “it’s never too early for this.”

jerking apart when you both hear luffy’s voice shouting from the living room, “have fun you guys! i’m going to usopp’s to watch the game! don’t forget to hydrate and take breaks! oh — and i left guac for you guys in the fridge!”

“i thought he was gone!” “i thought so too —” zoro groaning when you hear the door slam, burying his face in your shoulder

study sessions where he’s just doing weight training in the corner and it takes everything you have not to be distracted by the shape of him, shirtless, powering through reps of bicep curls, when he drops to the ground for pushups, the way he grins when he catches you staring and asks if you want to help hold his feet down for situps

coffee runs in the morning, standing in line with his arm draped around your shoulders; nami grinning, “see? toldya making out would’ve solved things.”

pecks goodbye in front of the main lecture building, hearing the way the rest of the fencing team hoots after you turn away, hearing zoro loudly telling them to shut the fuck up if they don’t want their asses beat

him blushing up a storm when you wrap your scarf around him and scold him again for forgetting his own, saying that he needs to take better care of his body if he’s gonna make it to the olympics; him scoffing and looking away and, “well… i’ve got you to take care of it for me, don’t i?”

nsfw: (mdni beyond this point pls)

fucking the locker rooms post bout, his hand cushioned behind your head because say what you will about jock!zoro but he’s still something of a gentleman

netflix and chill saturday nights bc he doesn’t have practice sunday mornings and he’s not about to let all that time to go waste; leaving the tv on as he pulls you over his lap, fingers dancing up the sides of your waist, pressing you down over his cock, groaning when he fists his hands in your hair and pulls

drunk!fucking at frat parties in strangers bedrooms, bc who tf cares who this room belongs to as long as there’s a bed and a door that somewhat locks and sure, the sheets are gonna smell like sex after you’re finished but who’s gonna try and fuck with you when zoro’s always got an arm around you, when he’s got you tucked into his side whenever you’re together, even if it’s just studying at the library or sitting at lunch in the dining commons

the most jealous, possessive sex… bc. zoro doesn’t share.

making out in the stacks bc you said you were getting a reference book but you were gone a bit too long and zoro had come to “find you” only to find you trying to reach a book on a level that’s just a bit too high; him reaching up to pull it down for you, pressing a hand to your lower stomach and pulling you back against his chest, “need some help, princess?”

fumbling back to his dorm after said failed study session in the library, him kicking the door shut and tossing you on his bed, him mumbling some cheesy line about needing to brush up on his anatomy before pushing your knees up and burying his face between your thighs

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harrisonarchive · 4 months

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In memoriam: Tony Bramwell. Condolences to his loved ones.

Photo 1 by Bill Connell or Les Chadwick; photos 2 & 3 by Tony Bramwell.

“[Prior to reconnecting on the bus to Litherland Town Hall in 1960, Bramwell and George had last seen each other] when he was a delivery boy on Saturday mornings for one of our local butchers, E. R. Hughes, who had a shop in Hunts Cross. […] I can remember the first time that George zoomed around to our house in it [his new car], a big smile pinned to his face. He honked the horn and Mum and I came running out. ‘Get in, Mrs. Bramwell,’ he shouted. ‘I’m taking you for a spin!’ We climbed in, and off we went on what was to be the first of many Sunday afternoon drives. It was the kind of thing that families did back then, going for a drive after lunch on a. Sunday and stopping off at some quaint little old-world teashop for a pot of tea and a few sticky buns. We would go to little landmarks like the famed Transporter Bridge at Runcorn, or to local beauty spots like Frodsham, where there were sandstone crags you could scramble up. Sometimes we went to the medieval black-and-white Tudor town of Chester, which on a Sunday was mostly shut up. We were quite happy to stroll around window-shopping and then have have tea in a cobwebby little teashop down a cobbled alley, or we’d go to Chester Zoo, one of George’s favorite destinations.” - Tony Bramwell, Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With The Beatles (2005) (x)

#Tony Bramwell #George Harrison #Paul McCartney #The Beatles #quote #quotes about George #1960s #fits queue like a glove

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pineappleciders · 10 months

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sunny is an empty concert auditorium. sunny is the warmth of hot cocoa in a cabin. sunny is crayons that are too short to draw with yet too long to throw away. sunny is a green, open field that doesn't seem to end. sunny is a set dinner table that is empty. sunny is the warm light that reflects through the shades and onto the floor. sunny is drawing on a foggy window with your finger. sunny is the one blurry photo you take while taking pictures.

aubrey is a broken chain fence. aubrey is going to the zoo, and wanting to bring every animal home. aubrey is a bus ride at night back home, anticipating punishment from your parents. aubrey is eating popsicles by the side of the road with your best friend. aubrey is selling lemonade during the summer. aubrey is going barefoot into the muddy lake. aubrey is a dog let off-leash for the first time, running freely through fields. aubrey is a messy collage of newspapers and dry markers.

kel is drawing on the sidewalk using chalk with your friends. kel is the sandwich and carrots your mom makes you after school. kel is waiting for the school bus early in the morning in your raincoat. kel is fear; fear of yourself, of what you cannot control. kel is the last slice of pizza that one person insists the other has. kel is jumping in a pile of leaves with your dog. kel is falling and skinning your knee as a child, yet having nobody around to hear your cries.

hero is nostalgia. hero is eating fruit loops with your siblings on a sunday morning. hero is colorful ice cream and brownies for dessert. hero is stuffed animals in a claw machine. hero is the bottom of a tea cup after it's been emptied. hero is coming home after a long day to nobody. hero is the stray cat that brings you something every day. hero is the feeling of a dog's fur. hero is a painting the artist recreated, new and refreshed while the old version rots. hero is breakfast in bed from your children.

mari is a tire swing hanging from a beautiful oak tree. mari is the taste of your grandmother's baking. mari is confiding in someone you trust. mari is the flowers swaying by the riverbank. mari is asking someone to not take a photo of you, then later regretting it. mari is an old piano, one overgrown with plants and long abandoned. mari is the pictures of generations of your family hung in the hallways. mari is going out to eat after your big volleyball game.

basil is scraping your knee and insisting you don't need a band-aid. basil is polaroid photos strung up in a teenager's bedroom. basil is an old, dusty key which you're not sure what it unlocks. basil is a kid's journal with a lock on it that you forgot the password to. basil is spilling something in someone else's house and watching them clean it up for you. basil is jars of honey and jam in a cupboard. basil is dry, cracked knuckles.

#does this make sense #pineapple yaps #omori #omori fandom #omori game #writing #poetry???#idfk #pineappleciders

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krysalla · 18 days

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vermilion

jonathan crane x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

read on ao3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, stalking, kidnapping, blood, murder, somno, drugging, noncon, masturbation, unfortunately crane is a fucking freak with no sense of boundaries, mentioned child abuse, crane and grandma keeny having a norma and norman bates type relationship, in no way romantic but crane thinks it is because he thinks reader is his twin flame, inspired by a slipknot song

You’re a creature of habit. You leave work at five in the evening, you take the same way home every day except for Mondays—that is when you do your grocery shopping for the week. You go to the library every other Tuesday, to the movies on Wednesdays, go out to dinner by yourself on Thursdays, go to the used bookstore and antique store and occasionally the zoo on Saturdays, and you spend all day on Sundays cleaning and getting ready for the start of your work week. Today is Friday and Fridays are meant for decompression from your week. Since he started watching you all those months ago, you have never once deviated from your Friday routine—you polish off a bottle of Chardonnay, sit curled up in the corner of your couch with a book and a stack of CDs next to you to listen to while you read. You call it quits around ten o’clock, run through the motions of your bedtime routine and slip into bed.

It is now two in the morning and there has been no trace of you.

His blood curdles in his veins into a thick sludge of anger and hatred. How dare you? Jonathan has been standing, waiting in this small closet for hours just for you. Have you no consideration for him? To just leave him here with no sign of where you will be going, no note on your calendar where you keep all your appointments, no egregiously long phone calls with your fickle mother or your simpleton friends. He will punish you for this. Remind you that, while his presence in your life may not be fully known to you, you are still his little mouse.

Your bedroom door bursts open. He cannot see you through the darkness, but he can hear your breathing. You flick on the light and flood the room. Your blouse is hanging on by the hem that’s still tucked into your pencil skirt. He’s missed the touch of your skin, the softness of it, it’s the only thing holding him together now that the ire rising in his throat has been ramped down by the feeling of want. His blood still burns hot and thick. Yes, he can easily forgive you with just the flash of your skin. You’re giving him everything he wants, being a good little mouse.

Your shower and nighttime routine is cut short by your tired and stilted steps. He can smell the faint traces of alcohol on your mouth when you pass by the slotted door he hides behind. You’re so close. He stills his hand before he can reach for the doorknob. He has been waiting this long, what is another fifteen minutes to the nine hours he has already spent here?

The lights go out and he continues to wait.

Only when he can hear your even breathing does he spill out from your closet and into your room, slithering to your bed and inviting himself in. Jonathan sits beside you, carefully moving your arm into his lap to have open access to your lovely veins. He takes care not to blow your vein, a mistake he learned not to make again. It left your arm sore and tender and you had no explanation for it and made you suspicious. He is well versed in your body now; he knows how hard and rough he can play with you before he starts leaving marks.

He breaks your skin with the pierce of a needle and floods your veins with the newest adjustment to his serum. You whine and squirm beneath the covers. It takes you a moment to settle. He pulls the needle out, thumb coming down to close over the injection site, the smallest trickle of blood circles the imprint of his thumb.

Fatigue washes at the corners of his mind. He hadn’t planned on spending near this amount of time here. You’re lucky that he feels this need for you, this abhorrent need to possess. It disgusts and confuses and delights him. He’s never felt this way before. He’s looked past all other women, knowing they could never satisfy any need in him, too vapid to keep up with him and his desires and research. But with your sweet, little face and pliant body and mind, he can make room for you in his busy life. You and his projects. That hole that Granny left in his heart, that rotted and festered until his insides were all infected and black, can be filled with you.

If you were anyone else, he would be done with you. Pump you full of fear toxin until you’re blue in the face and frothing at the mouth. Watch that light drain from your eyes and wait for the death rattle.

Your breathing rapidly now, short and shallow like you can’t suck in a full breath. An unintended consequence. Your brow draws down and your lips go tight in a grimace. His hand wraps around your throat not to cut off your airflow but to feel the jump in your pulse.

He wonders what you dream of now, what apparitions your mind has conjured for you in your nightmare. He hopes it’s him or at least the outline of him, something eclipsed in shadow, just a figure stalking you through the dark who watches and waits for the perfect moment to grab you up in his claws. He kisses you on your forehead, the bridge of your nose, and finally lands on your lips. He doesn’t mind the lack of movement. His tongue snakes out to push at the seam of your lips and uses his free hand to push against the sides of your mouth to open up your jaw. He licks into your mouth with caution—he never knows when you’ll bite back. And underneath the taste of toothpaste, he can trace the alcohol and cigarette smoke on your tongue. It’s disgusting. He’s never taken you for a smoker. In all his time with you, he’s never seen as much as a pack of cigarettes hidden in your purse. That’s something he’ll have to remedy.

He pulls away from you, smug at the sight of his saliva coating you in shine on your face. His hands fall to cup your breasts. Jonathan is a greedy man. He can’t stop with just the look of terror on your face.

Dirty, filthy, disgusting little boy! Granny used to call him. She would drag him out of bed by the hair of his head and put him over her knee, hitting him with a leather belt on the rear to drive the filthy sin out of him, the same sin his momma had. Should have beaten her like this. Wouldn’t have this awful excuse of a boy wandering around my house. She would beat him until his rear turned red and bled. Always have to clean up your messes, soiling your sheets with your filth.

Yes, you are the same as him. Greedy, disgusting, filthy. You want this just as bad as he does. He sees your hips writhing and hears your pitchy moans. This is what drew him to you, your sickening mix of confused and fearful arousal.

He slips his hands under your shirt and plays with your nipples. He tugs and tweaks at them until they are hard and you’re unable to stop pushing yourself into his hands. How beautiful, how sweet. His filthy girl. You are cut from the same cloth. Yes, he knows what you want but he won’t give it to you, that will be your punishment for making him wait.

Your skin is soft to the touch, tempting him to venture further. He’s bolder now than when he first started this relationship with you. Jonathan moves easier, comfortable in his skin as he touches you. He had been nervous once, could still hear Granny in his head telling him how disgusting he was. The idea of touching your skin with his bare hand sent him reeling and after he’d finally squashed that voice in his head and touched you without the barrier of his gloves in his way, he couldn’t see you for a week.

You filthy boy! Filling your head with such dark wickedness, such perversion. I know what you wanted. You’re just like your mother–a whore!

He pushes a hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers brushing over the thick thatch of hair before pushing them through your folds. Already so wet. You know he’s here and think he will reward you. You thrash in terror, fingers curling in your sheets, and sweat breaks out across your skin. You whimper in his grasp. He circles your clit with a steady rhythm until he has your hips bucking into his hand and wrenches his hand back when you start to seek out pleasure.

He pulls his hand from your underwear and undoes the button and zipper of his pants. He takes himself in hand. It’s easy and quick, a few strokes and your pinched expression is enough for him. He spills himself over your thigh and smears the mess around. You’ll wake up hungover and won’t ask any questions, chalk it up to being too drunk and too clumsy for your own good. You’ll shower and move on with your day. You’ll go to the zoo and watch the bears lumber around in their enclosures and come home and make lunch to avoid spending more money than you have to. The first is right around the corner, your fridge and pantry will be a little barer for it.

One day, you won’t have to worry about that. He’ll take you away from this dingy apartment, away from everyone that could hurt you–something that should be reserved for him–and keep you. All you would have to do is let him fill you up with fear toxin and love him. Your life would be so much easier that way.

You’re a creature of habit. So why are you leaving earlier and earlier in the mornings and coming home later and later? He tries to map out this new routine you seem hellbent on making but he can’t pin you down. You no longer go to the store on Mondays, you don’t go to the movies or out to eat at your usual haunts. On the weekends, you’re never home. He waits and waits, feeling that hole in his heart begin to fester and ooze again. He cuts holes in your clothes and stretches out elastic, he shreds your books to ribbons, breaks your CDs in half. He burns your collection of ticket stubs from the movies and the zoo. He looks upon his destruction with glee and vindication. Jonathan hides back in your closet when he hears the door unlatch. He sits in giddy silence as you take in the mess of your apartment.

You pick up the pieces with tears in your eyes and wretched, hiccuping breaths.

It serves you right.

It’s Friday again. You’ve been following your schedule again. You go back to your old habits but you’re more jumpy, skittish if you come home a few minutes later. You look over your shoulder for him, as if you would ever see him coming.

It’s Friday night and you’re not home.

It’s two in the morning on Saturday and you’re not home.

He seethes and riles himself up in the closet. This is it. You’re no longer worth the hassle. There will always be another. (That’s not true and he knows it. You're one of a kind, he’ll never feel the same about anyone else again.)

The door unlocks. You’re giggling and trying to whisper, but he can still hear your drunk slurring. A man laughs. Which way to the bedroom?

Betrayal colors him. He hasn’t been as obvious with his ownership, his presence alone should be enough for you to understand that you belong to him and no other. Hasn’t he done enough? Given you enough? It would have been so easy to take you away from your job, your life, and tucked you away with him in his laboratory, safe and sound in your captivity. He wants you dead, he wants you all to himself. He’s given you too much freedom and he will have to clip your wings, remind you just who you belong to.

You’re on your back intertwined with him, giggles breaking off into high pitched moans. It should be him making you writhe and moan like that. You belong to him. In the throes of pleasure, you drag the man to lay over your chest and reach up to kiss him. It’s sloppy and he can catch the shine of saliva on yours and his mouth. The petulant thought bullies its way to the front of his mind—that’s his toy, his little mouse, his his his.

Your head lolls to the side, peering straight through the slats of your closet doors at him. Oh and how he forgives you! You don’t know what you’re doing, too confused by your own need that you don’t realize that that’s what he’s here for. Poor, impatient little mouse. You feel the invisible chain linking you to him. He will help you. His girl with starry eyes and a pretty smile.

He slips from the closet, no longer content to watch and stew in his jealousy. He grabs the fabric shears sitting on your side table and opens the blade. With a tight yank of the man’s shorn hair, Jonathan tugs him up from your chest and slices through the man’s throat ear to ear. He cuts himself on the palm of his hand as he guides the blade. You scream as blood washes over you, holding your hands out to protect yourself from the spray of it. The man weakly bats behind him, trying to get him but as soon as he starts, his hands are back down, hanging limply against his sides. The strong spray begins to slow as he empties himself all over your and your bed. The man gurgles. He throws him off the side of the bed and peers down at you through his burlap mask.

“You…” you gasp. “You’re real.” You look up at him. Your mouth and chest shine with blood, your eyes wide and frightened.

“Yes.” He straddles your hips and doses you up with a sedative. It will be dangerous given your alcohol consumption, but he will take good care of you. He always does.

“I thought you were a dream,” you whisper. You cling to his arm as you fade out of consciousness.

“I am. Sleep and continue to dream, little mouse.” He kisses your forehead. “You’re going home.”

You come to work with bags under your eyes and lethargy in your steps. You wave off the concerns of your coworkers and assure them that you had some trouble sleeping. They nod, knowing all too well of your sleeping problem. It's been going on for months now, but it’s starting to take a toll on you.

“Maybe Doctor Crane can prescribe you something?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to bother him.” You laugh it off, fingers crawling over your forearm to your inner elbow. You smile. “I’ll just get some melatonin and a white noise machine. I’m sure it’s just me taking on too much. Arkham needs another social worker, can’t keep doing this all by myself.”

#possible pt 2? who knows what i'll do next #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x you #scarecrow x reader #x reader #my writing

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itsmebytch001 · 1 year

Text

Sunday Afternoon...

Aaron could see the defeated look in your eyes as Diana turned the corner by the Deli to drop you back off, you looked tired, your hair ruffed up and your red puffy eyes were enough, and it caused him so much grife knowing that what ever happened over the past two days he had allowed, sure it was technically out of his hands, the courts had given him an order to lend you to your Mom Friday through too Sunday and he wasn't egotistical enough to think he could simply go against it but oh how he wanted too...

Sometimes when you were all alone at Diana's with no way to contact him if anything went wrong he would sit alone in the living room once the house had been cleaned into oblivion and think about what he could be doing with you, take you to the Zoo, take you to get your hair done, help you with your homework over the whole weekend instead of having to cram every Monday morning, but instead he would have to take you from school, back home for a bit to pack your bag, make sure you ate something good and then take the dreaded walk to the Deli down on 11th street and simply let you go, reminding you he loved you before he waved you off, being pushed to do so by a unforeseen force.

Diana wordlessly drops you again by the entrance and leaves immediately, Aaron crouched to your level and saw how sunken your eyes were, and that you were holding a Bratz still in its packaging.

Must have been a rough one, he thought.

Aaron: "Come one Baby lets go"

He takes your hand and begins to walk the street with you loosely holding his hand, he takes the Bratz doll from you and hold's it in his other, your silent the whole way home starring out into the distance.

And once you did get home Aaron watched you dump your bag onto the floor and enter your room, flop onto your bed and almost instantly fall asleep. He watches you for several minutes to ensure your really asleep before sitting back on the couch tensely holding The Bratz Doll in one hand.

He wanted to throw it out the damm window.

And it was to him was Diana's way of remotely silencing you with expensive items, all the doll's she brought you were never played with, they were simply shuttled away under the bed still in packaging, there were now including this one 14 doll's just sitting there collecting dust, and this was to be added to the collection. Sure you didn't have any visible marks but it was rare she actually hit you, it was mostly the screaming, the hysterical crying and laughing, yelling again and again the same Arabic phrase at you expecting you to understand despite never having had tried to speak or teach you it and it was killing your childhood, having to deal with a mad woman every weekend. And it wasn't like you ever told him about any of these things, you only ever told Auntie Rio, or 'Tita' he wasn't sure if it was because she was a woman, or that she was more motherly but she was the only family member who could bribe you into informing her what had went down, so he as he did many Sunday afternoon's called her...

Calling Rio Morales...

Ring

Rio: "Hello?"

Aaron: "Hey Rio, uh...I know It's Sunday and it's late but...is there any chance you can come talk to Y/n?"

Rio: "Aaron...It's 17:45, I can't just up and go at this time"

Aaron: "There's a doll, she came back with another I just want to make sure she don't have any marks on her"

There was a long exhale on the other side of the phone

Rio: "I can't come this weekend, I'm with my family right now, but I'll come see her Monday M'kay?"

Aaron: "Yeah okay" He huffed

Call ended.

He looked back at you sprawled across your bed still in your winter clothes clicked off his phone, and he too retired to his room and collapsed onto his bed.

It was later in the night Aaron could hear the faint sound of the TV playing, and muttering. He emerged from his bed and peered round the corner to see you sitting, still in your day clothes watching something with the volume so low, while aligning a row of dolls to watch along with you.

Aaron: "Y/n?"

Y/n: "Oh, hi"

Aaron: "What are you doing up so late? You got school tmorrow"

Y/n: "I know..." You look over to the new Bratz doll stuffed away in thee corner.

Aaron: "You wanna talk about it?" He sat down next to you while the TV continued to play.

Y/n: "Nothing happened"

Aaron almost rolled his eyes at such a statement, something had happened you just wanted to silently strop out it.

Aaron: "...Did she hit you?"

Y/n: "Nothing happened"

Aaron: "Did Phil hit you?"

Y/n: "Nothing happened"

Aaron: "She break something of yours?" He's getting warm he can feel it.

Y/n: "NOTHING HAPPENED!" You yelled before stomping off back towards your room.

Aaron: "Ay, Don't yell at me!" He stood and watched you toddle off back to your room.

Aaron: "You better come sit yourself back on this sofa!" You slam the door in his face.

Aaron: "Oh OH you wanna do this now!? Your 9 years old already slamming doors in my face?!" Striding across the hall he forced opened the door with ease to find you sat on your bed.

Aaron: "Acting like a damm teenager, come on" He grabbed your arm and pulled you out and back into the living room while you dropped your weight dragging you across the floor boards.

Aaron: "Use your legs dammit" he continued to drag you across the floor before pulling you up onto the sofa and sitting you next to him, while still holding your forearm to avoid you making a run for it.

Aaron: "you just walk off mid conversation and slam a door in my face?, and-" You tried again to push him off your arm and pull away in order to return to your room. Aaron: "Sit you ass back down" He shoved you back into soft leather.

Aaron: "The hell is going with you?"

...

Aaron: "I asked you a question Y/n answer me" He said sternly.

He looked around the room as in looking for someone, then back at you.

Aaron: "Are you serious right now? You wanna slam a door in my face then go mute on me?"

...

Aaron:" Fine then, we just gonna sit here in silence until you say something" Was this petty? yes.

And so both you and your Dad sat in a horrible echo of silence for maybe 5 minutes while he iced you out in his own stare while tapping on the sofa.

Y/n: "I'm sorry" You whisper.

Aaron: "What was that?"

Y/n: "I'm sorry"

Aaron: "Umhum, so you gonna tell me why you slammed that door in my face?"

Y/n: "Because I was upset at you"

Aaron: "Yeah yeah I know that, but why you acting up so damm much all of a sudden?"

Y/n: "...I don't know"

Aaron: "Is it maybe something to do with your Mom?"

Y/n: "...no"

Aaron: "was it her boyfriend?"

....

Aaron: "So it was the boyfriend huh? Did he hit you? Cuz if he did I told Diana I would drag her ass back to court an-"

Y/n: "He didn't hit me, he just...got really loud"

Aaron: "What do you mean loud?"

Y/n: "I-I" He saw you looking over again at the Bratz doll.

Aaron: "Don't look at that, look at me" He turned your head to face him.

Aaron: "What do you mean loud?"

Y/n: "He...I was talking too much and he was mad so he got in my face and was yelling and pushing me a bit putting his finger in my face and when I got mad he sent me into my room and left me there"

Aaron: "What do you mean 'left you there'?"

Y/n: "The door was locked and I was left there for most of Saturday"

Aaron: "When did they let you out?"

Y/n: "Phil eventually let me out once I banged on the door for awhile and told him I needed to pee"

Aaron crossed his face with his hands, it upset him how casually you took it that you had been trapped for hours in a room all alone and that he, if he hadn't forced it out of you would have never known.

Aaron: "Dose Diana know?"

Y/n: "Yeah she knew, she was there"

He exhaled massively, lightly pulling you closer to him into a loose hug.

Aaron: "I'm sorry that I dragged you"

Y/n: "m'kay"

Aaron: "If you like, you don't gotta go to school tmorrow, we could just stay for Monday"

Y/n: "Do I still have to do my homework?"

Aaron giggled.

Aaron: "Yeah baby you still gotta keep up with homework but we won't have rush it like we always do"

Y/n: "M'kay"

Aaron: "Now lets get you to sleep now yeah?"

Y/n: "Yeah..."

Aaron pick you and hoists you into the hair carries you into your bedroom and plops you into your bed and pulls the blanket over your chest.

Aaron: "Don't let me catch you up again, yeah?"

Y/n: "M'kay, Night Pa"

Aaron: "Goodnight Y/n"

He softly closes the door and again stumbles back into his bedroom to finally sleep.

SEND ME REQUETS PLEASE IT FEEDS ME

#yandere morales family #aaron davis #platonic yandere #yandere miles morales #rio morales x reader #dad aaron davis #uncle aaron #yandere spiderverse #aaron davis x reader #jeff morales

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applepiesupreme · 23 days

Text

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

Chapter 29

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/148846414

"What's in yer head?" he asked from the chair he was sitting in.

Savigne came out of her stupor and smiled at him. "Nothing."

Another girl, Estelle had left today. Just like Rachel, she too had looked pretty broken up about it, but unlike Rachel who quietly disappeared back to her hometown, Estelle got up in the middle of her shift and simply walked out of the kitchen and never returned. "It was the stress" people were whispering. "She wasn't cut out to work under pressure" and "She didn't have what it takes". But Savigne knew better. She liked Estelle and felt bad for her, wondered about her prospects now that she had left the way she did. A recommendation letter from Chef Ecco was out of the question and Savigne wouldn't be surprised if, quite the opposite, he actually ruined her future work prospects.

His eyes flicked up at her from his journal. "Ya sure?" was his mild question.

She sighed and closed the book she was pretending to read and sat up on the bed.

"I was thinking that you owe me."

"That so?"

"Yeah," she mused. "You offered to go to that second map location, didn't you?"

His hand paused. A belated “When was this?”

“Very cute.”

She watched him thoughtfully hum and furrow his brow as if trying to recall. When he came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to fall for his brilliant amnesia play, he merely said: "That was then."

"What do you mean?"

"Meaning," he grumbled. "Ain’t on the table no more."

"Excuse me?"

He looked up at her. "Offer ran out."

"Well isn't that convenient?" she said evenly. "Why the hell did it do that?"

"Cause ya didn' take it, did ya?"

"How about I take it now?"

Arthur sighed and stubbornly sketched on, unfazed by her hard stare.

"Hello?" she pressed.

"Expired."

"Why?"

"Cause it ain't safe."

"Wasn't safe then either I imagine."

"Well you was mad then."

"I knew it!" she scrambled to sit at the edge of the bed, ready for a fight.

He grunted in frustration and threw his journal on the table. "Woman, why can't y'ask for normal woman things?"

"Like what?"

"Like...goin' to a play. Or fancy restaurant. Or the zoo…"

“The zoo?” she echoed, incredulous.

He waved his arms in frustration and talked over her:"…A new dress. Jewelry. Ya know, the usual things."

"Pffft, please. I can do all those things myself, that's why." Then she quickly added: "This I can do by myself, too, by the way. It's just that you won't ‘let me’."

“Savigne, there ain’t no treasure. Never is.”

“Okay, think of it as an outing then. Sort of like going to the…” she almost snorted with the ridiculousness of it and added “…zoo.” Did Arthur ever fucking date? Who the hell had asked him to go to the zoo?

“Zoo is safe. This ain’t.”

“Why did you offer it then?”

“Cause you was in a mood, that’s why.”

“Aha!" she exclaimed, victorious. "Then how about you pretend I’m in that mood again. In fact, you keep this up, you won’t have to pretend because I’m getting there.”

He crossed his arms and looked away, jaws clenched. "Fine," he muttered finally with resignation. "Serves me right to offer."

She jumped up and came around to kiss his cheek. "I need to prepare."

"Ain't far," he said, sullen. "Don' pack like we goin' to California."

"Okay," she grinned and pulled out a sizable list from between the pages of one of her books.

They rode into the clearing late morning next Sunday and Arthur was extremely grumpy because their usual Sunday bath had to be sacrificed for the trip.

"There it is!" she pointed with excitement at the waterfall across the lake.

"I know it's there," was his dry retort. "I was the one who brought you here.”

"Jesus, you're glum! I'm sure Bill will survive one week without us."

He sighed at the great injustice of it and urged Frost to trot ahead.

"Now listen here," he said over his shoulder. "This here Murfree country. Ya stick close to me, ya hear?"

"What's a Murfree?"

"Bad man."

"Oh, the usual kind, then."

He gave her look. "Ain't the usual kind. I mean real rotten, ya hear?"

"Okay," she said, sobering a little at his grave tone and urging Cricket closer. "Like what?" she asked a short while later.

"They eat people."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I ain't kiddin', Savigne. Stay close."

She didn't need to be told twice. They walked the horses to a spot across the waterfall, then dismounted. She brushed off her jeans and cracked her back, taking in the scenery. Treasure or no treasure, it was a lovely spot, perfect for a picnic. For the most part the trees retained their color, but Fall foliage was starting to peek through here and there. The familiar crispness of Autumn was in the air and the hue of light was a milder gold color. A flock of geese squawked high above them, migrating to wherever it was they went when the weather turned. Fall in Saint Denis was chilly, rainy and glum. But this would be her first year of experiencing the season outside of a city and she was looking forward to it.

She pulled out the map. "Says we have to go behind."

"Give it here," he swiped it off her hands, still annoyed. Then: "Says we have to go behind." He ignored the sheepish look she gave him.

"Should I wait here, or...?"

"Sure, if ya wanna spin on a bonfire."

"But what about our horses, then?"

"They don't eat horse," was his answer. She thought she heard a mumbled "I hope" but wasn't sure and he walked away before she could confirm it.

She quickly ran after and followed him so closely, she almost tangled his feet. When they arrived at the waterfall he gave her a look. “We goin’ in and there better be a cave there or ‘m gonna be pissed.”

“Oh please, we wouldn’t want you to lose your sunny disposition!” she mumbled. When he glared at her: “I can wait here if you want,” she offered again.

“Could if you could shoot. Since yer more likely to shoot yer damn self, you comin’.”

“You know, they say if a pupil fails, the fault lies with the teacher,” was her acerbic response.

“Who says that?” he scoffed. “Failed pupils?”

“Here,” she tsked and handed him one of the coats.

“The hell is this?”

“A Mackintosh. I bought us these so the stuff on us stays dry.”

He pinched the rubberized fabric. “How long you been planning this?”

“Since I saw the waterfall drawing on that second map,” she said, hooking the lantern on her belt, then putting on her own Mackintosh which was a man’s model and way too big for her. Their boots would get wet of course but she had packed an extra pair for the trip and wasn't worried.

“Ya keep wastin’ money for a scam, won' be no cabin,” he teased but she could tell he liked the coat as it would keep his guns and satchel relatively dry.

“Who cares? I'm going to buy the cabin with the gold we're about to find.”

He snorted and offered his hand. When she took it, he stepped through without further ado and pulled her in his wake.

Momentarily the weight of the water on her shoulders and then she was through and when she looked up, they were at the entrance of a cave. They proceeded to climb in a little further to get away from the roar before they stopped.

“I knew it!” she twitched, squeezing Arthur’s hand with excitement. “Oh my god! The map is real! We're rich, Arthur!"

“Woman…” he sighed, then just clicked his tongue in resignation and shook his head.

“Was there ever a man as grumpy as you?” she grinned up at him, unbuttoning her Mackintosh.

“‘M only grumpy cause you could be naked, sittin’ on my lap right now, but instead we here.”

She motioned for him to take off his coat and handed him the lighted lantern, then folded the coats and left them by the entrance. “Thank God it's a cave this time. No more climbing.”

She whisked out the map again. “Says we go straight, then make a right at the juncture.”

When they turned the corner he stopped and she almost ran into his back.

“I got news for ya.” The grin in his voice was unmistakable.

“What is it?” she tried to see around his broad back.

He moved aside and there was a steep drop to their left. Unexpected vertigo buckled her legs and Arthur gripped her waist to keep her steady. “Hey, hey,” he cooed and pushed her against the cave wall. “Ain’t that high. Look.”

He held the lantern over it and it was about thirty feet, which didn't change matters for her at all.

“I can do this,” she whispered, voice shaking.

He gave her a dubious glance. “Ya sure? I can go alone. Doubt anyone else comin' in here."

“I’m not staying here by myself in the dark. We only have the one lantern.”

“Okay. Lean back on the wall.” When she did, he grasped her hand. She closed her eyes when he started to walk along the ledge and she carefully crept along sideways, her back brushing the cave wall. A while later he stopped.

“Gimme the map.” She fumbled for it with closed eyes and held it out. There was a pause.

“More news.”

She almost whimpered. “What now?”

“We gotta jump.”

“Are you bullshitting me right now Arthur?!” she hissed, her heart starting to thump harder.

“No. A section broke off.”

She moaned despite herself.

“Just wait here, I’ll be quick.”

She weighed the option of jumping against sitting alone in a dark cave with no light source, all manner of critters crawling over her and groaned a determined “I can do this,” trying to mask the clattering of her teeth.

He sighed. “Okay. Com'ere.”

“Why? What are we doing?”

“Gonna take ya on my back.”

She sensed him crouch down and blindly felt her way to his shoulders and threw her arms around his neck.

“Savigne...” he paused when he stood up.

“If you tell me I’m too heavy, I’m going to lose it!” This had been a running joke now for the last few weeks. She was aware she had gained a little weight and was quite self conscious about it, but Arthur was having a blast, casually slapping her ass as she was walking by or lustily fondling her thighs in bed.

“Was gonna say, relax yer hold. Need to breathe.” He tapped her arm and she loosened her viselike grip a little.

He slung his hands under her thighs but not before patting her buttocks.

“What’s that about?” she growled.

“Just adjusting. For balance.”

“Bullsh-”

He jumped and a yelp tumbled out her throat, echoing in the cave.

He lowered her down and she clung to his shirt, eyes tightly screwed.

“Fine now.”

She carefully peeked out and took a deep breath. “God, we will have to do that again,” she shuddered.

“Show me the map.”

He inspected it, then simply walked off with the lantern, leaving her trembling against the wall in the dark.

“Arthur!”

He returned and offered his hand, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. She gripped his hand with a glare and leaned back on the wall and crabwalked as he pulled her into another tunnel.

When they arrived at a juncture he made a left. The passage narrowed more and more and he took the lead as they squeezed sideways trough the slim openings, trying to fit their arms and legs around the rocks.

“Maybe ya should have gone first," she grinned over his shoulder. "Easier to push ya through from behind if that pretty ass o’yours gets stuck.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Should be right up here,” he said, inspecting the map and made a right. “Don’t know how ya were gonna do this on yer own,” he muttered, inspecting the surroundings.

Probably couldn’t have, she thought but her pride didn’t allow her to say it.

They reached what looked like a dead end and he ran his hands across the wall. One of the rocks moved and he fumbled to pull it out. Then he shone the lantern into the gap and reached in, retrieving a folded piece of paper.

“There’s yer gold,” he sighed and handed it to her.

“Hold up the light!” she squealed with excitement. She was careful in unfolding it because it felt damp and fragile. She turned it around and read the words “final map” in a corner. “Oh my god, it’s the final piece!”

He hummed over her shoulder, not impressed.

“Does it look like anything to you?”

“Hard to tell. We’ll take a look outside.”

They ambled back to the jumping point. “Don’t fondle my ass,” she warned as she climbed on his back again.

“Think I earned it,” he countered shamelessly and did exactly that.

He jumped across and lowered her on shaky legs, then turned and gave her a crushing smack of a kiss. They found their way back to the cave entrance, bundled back up in their mackintoshes and waded through the waterfall. Savigne gulped deep breaths of relief when they came out into daylight. She ran ahead ahead and hastily hugged Frost's neck, glad that the horses were fine and not Murfree food.

“What he do?” Arthur asked drily from behind her.

“He was a good boy and didn’t act insufferable because he missed a bath,” she sighed and walked over to hug Cricket next because you can’t just hug one horse and not the other.

He muttered under his breath as he stuffed the lantern and the raincoats into the basket tied to his horse.

Amused how invested he was in the Sunday baths now, she was about to tease him when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and the cold steel of a blade appeared at her throat.

The click of a gun cocking stilled Arthur immediately.

“Eaaasssyy now, mister,” came a voice from her right. A man stepped into her view. He was tall and skinny with greasy blond hair hanging into his eyes. The denim overalls hanging loosely over the skeletal frame of his naked bony shoulders was stained with all manner of blotches, some of them undoubtedly the dull maroon of blood. Her eyes drifted to his face: Protruding eyebrows framing a set of cunning, cold grey eyes. His nose had clearly been broken at some point and had healed somewhat crooked. Once, when she was perusing books about exotic animals at the library she had seen the picture of a naked mole and he reminded her of that - big teeth, skin pale and hairless, eyes beady. He was marred with an old gash on his left cheek. In his extended hand a sawed off shotgun, pointing at Arthur with cold precision.

Arthur calmly resumed and finished his packing before he turned around, palms up in placation. His eyes immediately flicked to her, the knife at her throat, then to whoever was standing behind her.

“There a problem?” was his mild question to the man with the gun.

Savigne swallowed as her pulse picked up. Her eyes darted between Arthur and the man, lingering on the gun in his hand and finding their predicament increasingly grim. They hadn't encountered anyone on their way to the clearing, so the odds of someone riding by and offering at least a window of surprise were very low. Her heart sunk with the realization that they could die right here, right now, on this random Fall morning and nobody would even find their bodies. Or...their fate could be a lot worse than death.

“Yeah there is, partner,” the man said amicably. His grin revealed gaps of missing teeth. “Yer on our land.”

Arthur, bizarrely composed given the circumstances, gave him a long look with hooded eyes. “That so?”

The man nodded as his grin grew and stepped closer. The hand around her waist tightened and she was forced to rise on her heels to accommodate the blade. The sour, musky stench wafting off the man behind her turned her stomach and she almost gagged. Her eyes drifted down to his hand, caked in dirt, fingernails jagged and long as if he had burrowed his way out of a grave. She had to fight the urge to keep her hands up in surrender instead of clawing it off herself.

“Don’ like strangers much,” was the easy answer, delivered with a toothy grin. She stared hypnotized at his wide mouth with those long yellow teeth and the fat lips, imagining them chomping on human flesh. A fresh wave of bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it back down.

“Just passing through,” Arthur drawled, head swiveling as if to take in the vista but more likely assessing who else was out there.

A low chuckle behind her and Arthur’s eyes flicked to the spot over her shoulder again. “Might wanna take yer hands off my woman,” was his calm suggestion.

Against the backdrop of a hyperventilating Savigne, the slight tremble in the blond man’s gun arm and the shallow and fast, dog-like panting of the Murfree behind her, Arthur looked absurdly collected, as if he had just woken up from a restful sleep.

"Maybe yer just passin' through, cowboy," was the tease from over her shoulder, colored with amusement. "But this here is city folk. She ain't yer woman cause yer friggin' in yer tent thinkin' on her."

“You nick her even a little, y'aint leavin' here alive,” was Arthur’s dry retort, eyes icing over. A deliberate pause before the addition of “Boy.”

“Watch what ya call me, mister!” She heard the shift from hyena laugh to anger in the voice and shuffled her feet to regain her balance as the arm across her waist tightened like a coiling snake.

“Y'aint no man, hidin’ behind a woman,” was the calm assessment.

“Hey! I’m holdin’ the gun here!” the other man barked, waving his arm but again, it fell on deaf ears as Arthur’s eyes remained glued to her captor.

“Ain’t hidin’,” was the hiss at her ear as the blade momentarily wobbled, then steadied again. He roughly pulled her against himself and ignored her shudder of disgust, perhaps even enjoyed it. His voice was shrewd when he spoke again: “She smell nice.” He took a deep inhale of her hair. Savigne pressed her lips flat to keep the whimper in. And her breakfast. “Pretty, too,” he drawled on. “Just had us an openin'.” The hand on her waist spread like a spider on her belly. “Poor Barb died with m'baby in'er.” Savigne's head swam and the world dimmed a little as he placed his chin on her shoulder. “What ya say?” was the low song in her ear. “You like rough guys, do ya? Ya gonna looovee me. Things I'll do to ya...no man even dreamed doin’.”

“Ain’t gonna ask again, boy!” Arthur spat, turning fully towards her and squaring his feet.

“Hey!” the man with the gun to his left barked for Arthur’s attention.

“Shoot ‘im in the gut,” her captor crooned. “So he die slow, watchin'.”

To her horror the hand on her stomach started to crawl downwards and she reflexively gripped it and tried to wrestle it off herself.

Then everything happened at once.

In an unfathomably instantaneous blur Arthur drew - no, more like a gun materialized in his hand. Later, Savigne would rewind this moment in her head dozens of times and still not understand how it happened. She had seen a mock duel and a shooting competition at a county fair once and had marveled at the speed of the shooters. But what happened in that clearing that day was leagues beyond that. One moment Arthur’s hands were still slightly upturned and away from his belt, then she might have blinked for a fraction of a second, and suddenly he had a gun in his hand and with expert subterfuge he never broke eye contact with her captor but it was the blond man’s face to his left that disintegrated.

The gunshot boomed and echoed in the clearing, startling the horses and making them dance away as Savigne jumped with surprise. She stared, frozen stiff with shock and the man behind her stilled in incomprehension, too. The body collapsed almost in slow motion, first sinking on its knees, then toppling over as blood continued to spurt from the ruin that barely a second ago had been a face.

The swelling of her captor’s lungs pushed against her back and was followed by the bellowing thunder in her ear: “YOU PIECE OF SHIT, FUCKIN' PIECE OF SHIT, FUCK YOU!!”

Arthur didn’t even look at the toppled body. He didn’t look at her either. He kept his eyes glued to that spot over her shoulder. The knife on her neck instantaneously appeared against her stomach, the tip of the blade prickling her shirt above her belt.

“Gonna rip out her innards for that!” was the howl as she momentarily closed her eyes, afraid that she would pass out.

"He was pointin’ a gun at me,” Arthur drawled with a bizarrely casual tone and twirled the gun smoothly back into his holster. His palms rose back up. If this was done to pacify the Murfree, she didn’t understand why it would work. The blur of a draw he did a moment ago would persuade anyone otherwise. But to her surprise, despite his loud breathing, she sensed the hesitation of the man behind her. “Man’s got a right to defend himself, aint he?” Arthur pressed on, his voice calm and coaxing, a far cry from the frostiness earlier. The panting in her ear became raspy and quieter.

“Y'ain’t done point a gun at me, have ya?” Arthur continued, straightening a little and relaxing his shoulders. The repose in his eyes would have confused an angry beast and in the same manner it served to restrain the man behind her too. At least for the moment. The silence was so deep, she literally heard the blood from the corpse to her right splattering to the ground.

The sullen, almost childlike “No,” mumbled against her hair surprised her but maybe it shouldn't. She didn't know who these people were but it was easy to deduce the heavy inbreeding and the dullness of the offspring that would follow.

Arthur nodded in easy agreement. “Then get outta here.”

Another silence.

“Bullshit!" Uncertain. Nervous. "Y’aint gonna let me go.” Lilted like a question.

“Savigne, he nick ya?” For the first time since this madness had started, his blue eyes drifted to lock on hers. Her head stuttered with a shake.

“Good. No harm done. Ya let my woman go and I let you go. Simple.”

The Murfree thought on that for a moment. “She comin’ with me,” he tried and there was desperation in his tone. As if he wanted to believe Arthur but couldn't quite get there.

“Ain’t gonna happen,” was the flat answer that brooked no argument.

"I know youse shoot me in the back, you fuckin' piece of shit!”

To her amazement, Arthur unfastened his gun belt and loped it away.

Another silence.

The knife tip on her gut wobbled and this time she did feel a bite but she didn’t say anything. Then suddenly for the first time the hold across her waist loosened just a little bit.

“You can take m'horse.” Savigne’s eyes widened with disbelief as Arthur walked to Frost and brought him over by the reins.

The two men looked at each other for a long moment and then she was sharply pushed forward and stumbled, but Arthur caught her before she could fall on her face. His left arm curled around her back as she clawed at his shirt and tried to burrow into his chest. Not even a moment later she heard a sharp “Hya!”, the slap on a rump and Frost taking off.

"Stay here,” Arthur said quietly into her ear and before she had a chance to react he untangled himself from her grip and stalked to his gun belt. He whistled sharply as he reached for it and refastened it with smooth expertise and Frost immediately bucked his rider and turned to trot back towards them. The man remained a tangled heap on the ground for a long moment, then finally got his legs under him and scrambled off but Arthur casually shot him in the thigh and he collapsed with a sharp cry. She saw him clearly for the first time and realized why the 'boy' was taken as an insult. He was younger than she expected, maybe barely twenty years old with a mop of tangled, messy brown hair and few whiskers for a beard. Pale and gangly like his friend had been, he sat cradling the wound on his thigh, glaring back at them with naked hatred.

"Savigne,” Arthur said and her gaze snapped to him. “Look away.” There was something in his eyes she had never seen before and he didn’t give her a chance to decipher it as he turned and marched off towards the yowling Murfree without another word. In one hand he held his large hunting knife, in the other his gun.

She meant to look away like he had asked but couldn’t tear her eyes off him, striding over as the other man desperately raised his blade. She flinched when another gunshot rang and the man’s hand disappeared in a mist of red. Her skin crawled at the screech that erupted at that. Last thing she saw was Arthur calmly holstering his gun and hefting his blade before he knelt over the man. Then she turned away, doubled over and threw up. She dry heaved, gasping for breath and threw up again. There was a low mutter that sounded something like “Ya think ‘m gonna let ya run off after you put hands on my woman, boy?”, chased by a soft thump and a wet moan. She stumbled towards the lake on shaky legs, falling to her knees as her vision darkened and brightened again, crawling on all fours to reach the water.

She sat there, mind momentarily blank before she jumped at another high shriek and remembered why she was there, washed her face and repeatedly slurped water from trembling hands to gargle the sour aftertaste from her mouth. Then she leaned over and dunked her head into the lake to restart her brain. She remained submerged like that for as long as she could, finding comfort in the quietness under the water. When she felt her lungs burn she sat up, sputtering and wheezing for breath, hair plastered on her face. From the corner of her eye she saw Arthur drop to his haunches beside her to quickly wash off his hands before he turned and roughly pulled her into his arms. She collapsed into his embrace and clung to him, shivering like a leaf as his hold tightened.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, chin resting on her head as she scurried her face into his neck, chasing the comfort of his familiar scent.

She tried to nod although she wasn’t sure of the answer.

She felt the thunder of his heart, a stark contrast to his cool demeanor, against her cheek before he gripped her shoulders and leaned back to see her face.

”I’m fi-”

He crushed his lips against hers, his hands holding her head in an iron vise. She was too stunned to respond and took a shuddering breath when he broke it.

”Look at me.”

She did and his eyes bored into hers, then crawled over her face before he pulled her closer and kissed her again.

”Yer okay,” he soothed, hands wiping wet hair off her cheeks.

His eyes roamed the clearing. “We should leave," before he looked at her again. “Can you stand?”

She wordlessly hauled herself up. His arm circled her waist and she half walked, half stumbled with his aid towards the horses. When she attempted to climb up Cricket he gripped her waist and lifted her on Frost instead. “You ride with me,” he said before he slung himself up to sit behind her. “Don’ want ya to fall off.” She nodded in a daze as his arm came around to secure her against him. He called for Cricket to follow as he turned Frost around and galloped out of the clearing, into the surrounding woods.

How long they rode on, she couldn’t tell. It felt like a long time but when they came out to a well traveled main road, the sun was still in its early afternoon position. She had no idea where they were and placed her hand on his lying across her abdomen.

“Ya good?”

She nodded again.

“Sorry,” was her late raspy response.

“What ya sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “For being useless.”

“Y’aint useless. I don’ doubt those two butchered seasoned men.”

“I…almost got us killed," she whimpered the realization breaking her voice. "Or worse.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Then: “Ain’t yer fault. This is a hard country, Savigne. Full of hard men.”

A hard country, she thought, where the weak get weeded out like chaff so only the strong remain standing. Where men abuse children, women and other men until they run into a smarter, faster, more ruthless man. The image of him dismissively reholstering his gun while he hefted his blade, looming over the man on the ground flashed before her eyes. This is his country. I’m just living in it.

Her hand tightened on his. “How far are we from Valentine?”

“Why, ya wanna wash off?”

She thought of the man’s vile breath on her neck and that grimy hand caressing her abdomen. Her stomach gurgled, looking for something else to push out but luckily failed. “Can we?” she shuddered.

“Sure,” was his soft response.

They arrived in Valentine late afternoon. The horses were stabled before they headed to the hotel. Bill looked up when they walked in - both of them wet, Savigne pale and shivering, her hair a tangled mess and Arthur covered in blood. A true professional, he wordlessly reached for their clean clothes basket and added the key of the room with the large tub to it.

“Thank you,” Savigne croaked, voice still shaking. “Sorry, we’re a bit…late today.”

“No worries Ms. Ricci,” he said coolly. She sighed and ignored the fact that he had begun to call her Ms instead of Miss a while ago. Men had a barometer about these things she couldn’t read and for whatever reason, somewhere along the way Bill had decided that she wasn’t single anymore just like he had decided it would be Arthur’s money he would take and she was too tired to argue.

“We’ll bring the dirty clothes later,” she mumbled as she turned to the corridor leading to the baths.

After she washed her body and her hair she just sat there and quietly sobbed for a long time. Arthur didn't acknowledge it, didn't talk through it and instead pulled her onto his lap and gently brushed her shoulders and ran water over her hair. She sat with her back cradled in his chest and cried until she ran out of tears. Maybe because she had been having such a great day until the shockingly sudden turn of events; maybe because she was overwhelmed and utterly fed up with being surrounded by so many men trying to hurt her, or maybe the evil she faced today superseded all her prior experiences, but the encounter had shaken her a lot more than the ordeal with the O’Driscolls had.

After she was all cried out she leaned back into his embrace, feeling calmer and lighter.

“What would have happened to me,” she whispered at long last, “if you hadn’t been there?”

His hands glided over her stomach, his thumb lingering on the small cut on her skin. “I was there.”

“But what if I was alone?” Her head dropped on his shoulder.

He sighed and kissed her temple. “You wasn’ alone.”

His refusal to feed her nightmares was annoying but understandable.

“You were never going to let him leave, were you?”

“No.”

A moment passed.

“He looked young,” she mumbled.

“A young snake’s bite will still kill ya,” he said carefully.

She turned in his lap to sit facing him. Her fingers ran through his hair and danced down his cheeks. For reasons she couldn’t explain, the question of what he had done to the Murfree clogged her throat. Had he slid his neck? Had he stabbed the man to death? Or, in his thirst for poetic justice, had he actually disemboweled him because that’s what the man had threatened to do to her? She was afraid that if she asked, he would actually tell her so she shied away from the question and settled for a whisper of “Why did you kill him like that?”

There was a silence as he watched her, eyes devoid of remorse or doubt while she ran her fingers over the muscles in his shoulders and the puckered reminder of his most recent injury on his left shoulder. “You think less of me for what I did?”

She mulled this over for a few moments, then sighed “No.” In her gut, she knew that as young as he had been, the man had been honest when he had promised to do unspeakable things to her. “It's just...I don’t understand it."

"You won'," he shrugged deftly. "Some men are just evil."

She nodded. "Maybe I can't understand it and you know what - maybe I don't need to." She locked eyes with him. "Because you do and...my safety is your job.” She snaked her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Because you’re my man,” she whispered into his ear as she hugged him.

The hands caressing her back stilled with surprise for a long moment. Then he pressed a long kiss on her shoulder. And another further up her neck. He swiped her hair away as he continued the trail of kisses to her cheek before fingers on her chin turned up her face and he kissed her properly.

“Damn right I am,” he mumbled against her lips.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan smut #low honor arthur morgan #mid honor arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fluff #smut #fanfic #dom arthur morgan

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bizkitsnuggets · 4 months

Text

12 — animals and regrets

m.list — 1k wc, a bit heavy dialogue, layout might look weird.

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The early hours of the sun kissed YN’s skin as the girl waited for Hitoka to finish her business in the bathroom. It was a Sunday morning and the zoo was bustling with people. Families, friends, and couples were crowding the area. Usually, the zoo would be empty. But since it had a special promo today, people didn’t want to miss it.

Hitoka came out of the bathroom and suggested that they go look for Yuu. YN agreed and they began their hunt. YN and Hitoka calmly walked around the beautifully decorated enclosures. YN’s eyes sparkled as she observed the animals. It had been so long since she’s been to the zoo, she’d sometimes forget what certain animals looked like.

The girl tried to shake off the feeling of anxiety by distracting herself. Truth to be told, the events from yesterday were still playing in her head. A mix of sorrow, uncertainty, and irritation didn’t seem to ever wash away.

It seemed like her heart was being violently hammered to a board, her heart was always aching. She couldn’t get her mind off of him. Not only because of the incident that happened last night but also the fact that they haven’t presented their language studies assignment.

It was all too much to take in for poor little YN. But alas, she ignored all those thoughts and feelings and decided she was going to have fun with her friends today.

Until that plan was ruined when Hitoka and YN spotted Yuu with the enemy (and his underlings).

Atsumu Miya.

YN mistakenly made eye contact with him and immediately averted her gaze elsewhere. But from the brief look of his face, he looked like he had cried. A lot. His eyes were all puffy and red and he genuinely looked like he could use some extra sleep.

Once again, YN ignored everything that was running in her head and told herself to act normal. She followed Hitoka’s steps as she guided her to where the boys were at. “Yacchan!” Shoyo greeted her with a hug, and gave YN a wide smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” In return, YN gave him a forceful grin, “likewise! W-… what are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, we just thought it’d be nice to have a group outing once in a while.” Osamu replied, looking at YN straight in the eye. What she didn’t notice was his arm nudging an oddly quiet Atsumu. Suddenly, a ringing noise came from Hitoka’s phone.

She quickly excused herself and took it. And while she was doing that, Yuu had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. Shoyo offered to accompany him so they went off on their little journey.

Osamu and Suna wanted to look at the penguin exhibition since they already bought the ticket for it and it was starting soon so they disappeared as well.

And now, YN was left alone with her worst nightmare.

“Uh…uhm, do you want to sit… over there?” Atsumu awkwardly asked, pointing at a circular lunch table with an umbrella. YN simply nodded and they started to walk. To other people, it would seem like the walk was short. They were only walking a minimum of ten steps anyway. But no, not to Atsumu.

The dude felt like he was melting. Not only from the sun but also from sheer embarrassment. He couldn’t even look at her in the face if he wanted to. And it didn’t help how their hands were bumping into each other because of the crowded area. He wanted nothing more but to go home.

They sat down in silence across from each other on the table. YN stared at anywhere but Atsumu. Not a single word was spoken between them since they sat down. Not a single sign of interest was evident from the girl. Atsumu’s poor heart couldn’t take it anymore.

Since the event from last night, he couldn’t sleep well. Even if he tried, his brain wouldn’t let him. The look on her face after he told her to leave was replying over, and over, and over again in Atsumu's head. He wasn’t the type of person to know exactly how someone felt based on just their facial expression. But the heartbreaking look on YN’s face made him feel regretful and devastated.

He knew he had hurt her badly. And he wanted to fix it, he wanted to talk to her. But he was a coward.

But he knew this was his only real chance of mending their relationship.

Atsumu shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of the awkward silence pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. Finally, he mustered up the courage to speak.

He cleared his throat nervously, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to find the right words to say. “Hey, YN,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I... I need to talk to you about what happened last night.”

He shifted in his seat, avoiding YN's gaze as he continued. “I know I messed up. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking and then... then told you to leave like that. It was a jerk move, and I regret it.”

His admission hung in the air, the weight of his guilt palpable in the silence between them. “I was scared,” he admitted, finally meeting YN's eyes. “Scared of how I felt, scared of what it meant. But that's no excuse for how I treated you.”

Atsumu's voice wavered as he spoke, his vulnerability laid bare before her. “I’m sorry, YN. Truly, deeply sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that.”

YN listened quietly, her expression softening as she took in Atsumu's words. She could see the genuine remorse in his eyes, the raw emotion etched into his features.

“Uh—... It's okay, Atsumu,” she said softly, a bit taken aback. “I understand... I think. I was just, confused, you know? I didn't know what to think or how to feel at that moment.”

She took a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. “But I realize now that... that maybe I was just as scared as you were. Scared of what it meant for us, scared of... of how much I care about you.”

Atsumu's eyes widened in surprise at her confession, his heart skipping a beat at her words. ”Really?” he whispered, barely daring to hope.

YN nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, really,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I like you, Atsumu. A lot. Honestly, more than you think.”

Oh, how she felt so embarrassed to say that. Her heart wasn't ready for all of this. She wasn't ready to pour out her feelings just yet. But the universe is always against her, isn't it?

Atsumu’s jaw dropped, his eyes searching YN's face for any sign that this was a dream or some cruel joke. But there was only sincerity in her eyes, a warmth that he hadn't seen since the previous night.

“I… I like you too,” Atsumu stammered. Even though the words he said were few, they were thick with emotion. Both of them smiled shyly at each other, the feeling of relief washing over them like a gentle wave. As if a heavy burden have been lifted from their hearts.

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After wandering around the bustling exhibition hall for a while, YN and Atsumu realized they couldn't find their friends anywhere. The vibrant displays and excited chatter around them made it easy to get lost in the crowd.

Just then, YN’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and saw a message from Hitoka.

"Hitoka says she had to leave because of an emergency," YN said, showing the message to Atsumu.

Atsumu's phone buzzed almost simultaneously. He looked at the message, a mix of confusion and amusement crossing his face.

“Woah! Same here, those assholes ditched us.” He scoffed. YN widened her eyes as she connected the dots. It all makes sense now.

YN subconsciously held onto Atsumu’s arm and shook it, “they planned this!” Atsumu giggled in disbelief.

And then he realized what YN was doing. They shared a brief, awkward silence before he broke it with a genuine smile and suggested that they continue exploring the zoo. YN instantly agreed and she led the way.

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“Hey, do you have a ride home?” YN asked as she sipped on her beverage. Atsumu shivered, “I’m somehow getting déjà vu…” she chuckled in response. She remembered the first time they had this conversation. Atsumu glanced at her before replying with a no.

YN directed her full attention to him now, “I’ll give you a ride!”

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notes:

hitoka, yuu, and shoyo actually stayed in the zoo and spied them

i feel like this is too serious for a smau..??

taglist: @kettlepop @bontensbabygirl @gigiiiiislife @foxxthenerd @does-directions @bae-ashlynn @nnnyxie

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221beloved · 11 months

Text

"But I love you"

When John entered the kitchen, Sherlock was making tea and toast, simultaneously trying to occupy a slightly hungry and impatient Rosie, while her food was warming. Semolina was the food of today for little Watson. “Morning,” John said, patting barefoot to the kitchen table. John and Rosie had stayed over for the weekend. They did this sometimes, when John had nothing on and Rosie was in the mood. Sherlock loved these weekends, even though he wouldn't admit it this so openly. He loved the tired evenings, loved to watch Rosie getting tired but stoically refuse to go to bed. He loved the afternoons, when they played with Rosie or took her out to the Zoo or the playground. He loved the early mornings, when Rosie was full of energy, and John soft from sleep. The things he hated were the Sunday afternoons, when John packed their things and said they had to go. He hated this. And he hated the following Mondays, when the flat was quiet and empty. He hated Tuesdays and Wednesdays, the rest of the week including the next weekend, because they never stayed two weekends in a row. They visited on some workdays, but they didn't stay. And Sherlock absolutely loved the weekends they did.

John frowned a little, then went over to say good morning to Rosie. She giggled when he pressed his lips to her cheek and closed her fist in his light hair. But her delight was short-lived, as she quickly returned to her impatient waiting for her food. She was hungry. Very hungry. Sherlock watched the scenery in front of him and smiled. Yes, he definitely loved the mornings. They had... well, a special atmosphere? No, maybe too sentimental. Or the other way round, not an appropriate way to describe these special occasions? Sherlock shook his had and turned to the tea again. Moments later he placed the steaming pot in front of John and handed him the milk. “Thanks,” John mumbled around a bite of toast. Sherlock gave the semolina he was gently heating into a bowl and placed it in front of Rosie. “Well, there you are little Watson,” he said and handed her a spoon. The spoon was painted like a bee and had two little wings on the handle for a better grip. Rosie gave a happy giggle and indulged in her meal. Sherlock sat, poured his own cup of tea and watched the Watsons. The frown he had spotted on John's face earlier was still there.

“Sherlock?” John indeed asked a few moments later, and Sherlock panicked slightly. He gave an indifferent hum. “You,” John continued awkwardly, “you don't have to do that, you know?” Now it was Sherlock's turn to frown. “Do what?” John finished his toast and watched Rosie smearing the contents of her bowl all over her face. Apparently he wasn't able look at Sherlock. “All this.” He gestured wildly around the kitchen. “This whole thing, with me. With Rosie. You never make breakfast, or eat breakfast and dinner at the same day!” John seemed somewhat upset. “Well, I...” Sherlock said hesitantly. “I just made breakfast. And I ate dinner yesterday. I don't know what-” but John interrupted him. “You spent the whole weekend with nothing but looking at Rosie, doing ridiculous things, nothing productive. At all!” Sherlock didn't know exactly what to say to this. “Yes?” he said, almost a question. “You-” Rosie chose this moment to investigate what happens when she drops her hand into her food, and Sherlock sat close enough for one of the resulting splashes to land on his shirt. He pushed it carefully onto his finger and licked it clean. When he looked up again, John was staring at him, wide eyed, mouth hanging open. “John?” Sherlock asked. “She just, she splattered your shirt with food and you're doing exactly what, nothing? Not a word, not even a sigh?” Sherlock looked at John in confusion. He was the parent, he should now this could happen. Surely this couldn't have never happened before? “John, she is little, these things happen. It's nothing that couldn't be put right again by a wash, I-” but John shook his head and moved to stand up. “No, no Sherlock. We can't come here every weekend and expect this from you, we can't burden you with all of this, it's not okay for you. It's... It's just not you.” He went around the table to lift Rosie out of her chair. “It's hardly every weekend, John,” Sherlock tried to interfere but John wasn't to be stopped. “Then add the numerous visits the other days of the week. We can't do this, you shouldn't be burdened with this. Me. Us...” Too shocked to move, Sherlock watched John getting their things and turning to leave, mouth hanging slightly open. When John reached the door, Rosie in his arms, Sherlock finally jumped up and reached out a hand. “But-” John didn't even turn. “No Sherlock.” Then he was gone.

But I love you...

The words remained unsaid. Sherlock stood there and stared at the closed door. But I love you...

He tried to take deep breaths to calm, to fight the sick feeling, the pain in his chest almost unbearable.

Text me your tag preferences

@angstober

@holmesianlove @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @topsyturvy-turtely @safedistancefrombeingsmart @blogstandbygo @7-percent @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @nathan-no @macgyvershe @whatsgoodmentalhealth @ninasnakie

#angstober 2023 #day 18 #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #rosie watson #sherlock fic

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yourmomni · 1 year

Text

Fix You

A/n: hi guys🥰 I hope you enjoy this I literally was so excited to write this first part of this story and can't wait to continue it ( and actually finish a series). Their will be 4 parts of this series that will be dropping every Sunday ( or if I'm feeling generous) every Friday. I have school through out the week so please be patient with me. @loveyouselfalways thank you for the request i cherish you in my heart 🥰🥰

The comments on the life were popping up rapidly on the screen as I rocked in my gamer chair that was in my room.

" Guys, what song should I play next."

I smiled as the requests were all over the screen within seconds of me asking. I was live on Weverse after our comeback on Music Bank.

" Oh I like Maroon 5, let's play Sunday morning."

I typed the song in and turned my speakers that were on my desk up. I swayed to the song bobbing my head and singing along.

Jay popped his head in as I looked up over my monitor at him. " Jake wanted to know if you've seen his black cap, and I also bought you some ramen." I shook my head. " no he probably left it at the studio but do you wanna come say hi." He smiled rushing into my room sitting the bowl down beside me, standing behind me waving. " Hi ENGENE thank you for supporting us today." He began humming the song and reading the comments.

" no, I'm not joining the live I just stopped by to say hello…now I'm leaving so goodnight I love you." He waved bye rustling my hair and then running out before I could hit him back.

" He's so annoying guys, I swear he's really like a big brother to me." I fixed my hair grabbed the chopsticks and ate a little bit of the ramen

Hoonies wife: You’re the annoying one

Jaybm: I want to see him not you

I squinted at the comment

" He's not really annoying, it was just a joke guys."

Dweakicake: look at how she's eating. What a pig

Skyhon: fat bitch

Lilsim: I can't believe they chose her as the last member, what a waste of space. Literally lol.

Jewelgold: did you guys see her outfit for comeback? They should have covered her up more, she looked like a dancing cow

You stared blankly at the camera reading the comments appearing on the screen one by one.

"I'm sorry if you guys didn't like my outfit for the comeback, maybe next show you'll enjoy the next one."

You faked a smile, your heart felt like a needle was going in and out of it, and your stomach felt like there was a zoo inside of it.

The song finally ended and you slid the bowl to the side.

You were too sick to eat

" Okay, guys I'm not feeling well so I'm just going to end the live here."

Y/Nfairy: Don't pay attention to the mean comments we love you

Enha4L: Don't go I'll miss you too much

You smiled " It's getting late and I promised Sunoo I would do face mask with him tonight so I gotta go. I love you engenes until next time." I blew a kiss and waved bye to the screen ending the live.

I exhaled, groaning, laying my head on the desk. Jay walked back in smiling holding his own bowl

" I came to- hey what happened to the live I was going to surprise them" I quickly lifted my head to face him

"Oh, I ended the live it's getting late." I got out of my chair, grabbed my bowl that was on the desk taking it to the the kitchen.

Jay was taken aback by the sudden change of mood you had. You were all bubbly and excited to get on live just a second ago.

Jake was sitting at the dinner table on his phone, probably ordering a new black cap.

" Someone needs to clean the dishes I did it last night and this morning, and they keep piling up," Jungwon said, walking in from the living room and setting his bowl in the sink.

I dumped my food in the trash sitting my bowl down beside his " I did it last week it's sunoo turn." Jay said leaning on the island

" I did it the week before," Sunoo yelled from his room.

" Hey, you didn't eat all your food," Jay whispered as I stood beside him on my phone.

" I wasn't hungry." I moved before he could ask me anything else. The living room was empty even though the T.V. was on. I sat down on the couch scrolling through Twitter trying to see if anyone posted the highlights of my live.

Enhypenlover: Y/n looked so pretty today on her live as she played songs by Tyler the Creator, Frank Ocean, Steve Lacey, Beabadoobob and Maroon 5. She even had a special appearance from Jay. Sadly she left in a hurry but I can't wait to see her again soon. What did you guys think about her live?

You pushed the comment section and saw over 2.5k people reply to her tweet

There were a lot of comments about how they liked your taste in music, or about how they enjoyed seeing you. Then you scrolled too far.

User183752890: why didn't they make her diet before coming back? So embarrassing

You sharply exhaled as you read it over and over again

You knew you weren't the skinniest person in the world, you had thighs that doubled every time you sat down, your fingers weren't skinny and Dainty like the other girl idols and your belly was nowhere near flat. It would spill out from under your shirts and poke out when you tried to hide it in your jeans.

It was nowhere around how you looked. You knew you were fat.

After I-land aired and the last 7 members were picked to be in enhypen everyone was so excited to see the new group, well until they decided to add you into it.

The boys were nice, sweet, and caring towards you but the fans were a different story. Always commenting on how you looked or saying you didn't match the boy's vibes. Telling you to leave the group every chance they got.

A tear fell from you're eyes and onto your cheek, as you gripped your phone in your hand. " You okay." You quickly whipped it away. " Yeah just got something in my eye no big deal."

Niki was standing there watching as you wiped your tears away for the 5th time that week in silence.

He walked over to you, snatching your phone out of your hand. " What are you reading?" I gasped hopping up trying to grab my phone back. " Niki stop it." He started scrolling eyebrows frowning as he continued to read all the comments

" Niki give it here." He turned his back to me, blocking my phone from me. I tried going in front of him but he ran to the other side of the room.

" Niki, this isn't funny, just give it back." He scoffed. He was still reading silently. Niki was beyond angry at all of the things he was seeing.

People who claimed to be fans hated you for no reason. It was pissing him off.

"How long has this been going on?" He asked, finally looking up from your phone. " It doesn't matter, just give me my phone back." You reached for your phone but Niki moved it out of the way.

"It doesn't matter? Y/n you were literally crying 5 minutes ago reading this trash." "It isn't trash," I yelled at him. He bit the inside of his cheek. " When did this start y/n." I crossed my arms looking away from him

He shrugged, "Fine, you don't wanna talk." He brushed past me and into the kitchen where I followed him. " Niki, what are you doing?"

Everyone was gathered in the kitchen which was just your luck.

" Jungwon, look at this." I gasped as I watched him hand my phone over to our leader. Jungwon raised his eyebrows as he received the phone.

Oh no

The one thing about getting hate was that you tried your best to hide it from your other members. You knew if they saw it they would try to protect you or worse agree with the people about you.

Everyone crowded behind Jungwon to read what was on your phone. you felt like you were living a nightmare. Your hands started getting sweaty and your legs turned to jello.

Jay was the first one to look back up at you sadness all over his face. You quickly looked away from him and down at the ground. You hated seeing them sad especially if it was over you.

You clenched your fist all of a sudden and anger filled you. " When did this Start?" Jungwon asked, breaking the silence. I couldn't look up at him. " Y/n answer me when did-" " None of your business." I spat. Everyone looked taken aback.

" Y/n watch how you talk," Heeseung said glaring at me. I walked over and snatched my phone out of his hand. " This is none of your concern I can handle this alone."

" Oh, so that's what you call crying at night in your room. You call that " handling it" because it doesn't seem handled." Niki yelled back just as angry. I pushed his chest " fuck you.".

" Y/n that's enough," Sunghoon interjects. " Niki was trying to help and-." I cut him off ." He wasn't trying to help me he was trying to embarrass me…I don't have time for this." I stormed to my room " Come back here, we're not done talking to you." Jay said following me.

" I don't want to talk to any of you EVER." I slammed the door in his face.

" teenagers." Heeseung groaned throwing the rag he had in the sink and whipping his hands on the apron he had around his neck. Niki dragged his hands across his face. " Why didn't she tell us," Jake said with frustration all over his face.

Niki's leg was bouncing so hard the table began to move with it." I don't know but I'm going to fix it." He got up from the table storming to his own room slamming the door.

#black reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enha niki #enhypen niki #niki #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jay #enhypen #chubby reader #enhypenxchubby #black reader x kpop

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jackharloww · 2 years

Text

Dad!Jack

Here I write about dad jack! I have two OC children,Grace Harlow and Nathaniel Harlow.

Further down I have pregnancy fics as well. I hope you enjoy ❤️

Grace Harlow

Welcome little baby

The one where You give birth to your daughter

Sleepless nights

The one where Grace wakes up in the middle of the night

Daddy duties

The one where You are sick, and Jack takes care of you and Grace

Dad Jack

The one where Jack is bragging about Gracie

“Give me Grace”

The one where Grace gets her name

“Where’s Gracie’s hand?”

The one where Grace doesn’t want to go to kindergarten

“Carrot is worth it”

The one where Grace’s bunny gets lost

“We got a little carried away”

The one where Jack comes home after being away

”Boo”

The one where it’s Halloween

“Mommy, I want big lips like daddy,”

The one where Jack gets an allergic reaction

”through thick and thin - Postpartum fic

The one where you go through a rough patch

Weekend getaway

The one where Grace is at her grandparent's house while you two go on a weekend

Teething Gracie

The one where Grace wants her dada

Mr. Summer the snowman

The one where you are playing in the snow

Peekaboo

The one where You try to get Grace to laugh

Gracie’s parents

The one where you have a date night

“Euuuw daddy’s feet”

The one where you have a lazy Sunday

Baking gingerbread cookies

The one where you have christmas fun

Christmas morning

The one where Santa comes to visit

Gracie gets sick

The one where Grace gets sick

Family Vacation

The one where Grace goes on her first real vacation

“Why is your tummy so big”

The one where Gracie asks how you got a baby in your stomach

”Don’t forget mamas snacks”

The one where Gracie and Jack go grocery shopping

“You need a time out”

The one where You and Jack argue in front of Grace

Another Bunny

The one where you buy another bunny for baby brother

Nightmares

The one where Jack has nightmares and Grace comforts him

"I want mommy"

The one where Grace wants to sleep next to you, but Jack doesn't want to disturb your sleep.

Passionfruits

The one where Grace tries Passionfruit for the first time

Valentine’s breakfast

The ones where Grace and Jack surprise you with a breakfast

“Yummy”

The one where Jack likes your new chapstick

“Bless you”

The one where Jack is being petty due to lack of “bless yous”

Allergies and cuddles

The one where the family cuddles in bed

Big sister Gracie

The one where Jack reassures you

“Mommy made a big wrong”

The one where you forget Jacks birthday

“Daddy is loud”

The one where Jack snores and Grace can’t sleep

Surgery

The one where Grace removes her tonsils

Daddy and Gracie

The one where Jack and Grace have a cozy home day

Everything will be alright - 2 parts

The one where you have an emergency C-section and give birth to your baby boy

Part 1

Part 2

Catch me if you can

The one where Jack puts his hand on the corner of the counter for Grace

Grace meeting baby brother

The one where Grace meets Nathaniel

“Let it all out”

The one where Jack breaks down after the traumatic birth of your baby boy

“My best cheerleader”

The one where Grace cheers on her dad playing soccer

Blame on me

The one where you finally get the chance to fully listen to Jackman. and have a few comments

Tension in the air

The one where you and Jack have an argument about the kids

Coming home

The one where baby Nathaniel comes home

“I want dada”

The one where Grace wakes Jack up for cuddles

Picnics and checklists

The one where Jack had one job

Zoo day fic + insta Au

The one where You have a day at the zoo

Tweezers and ouchies

The one where Grace picks Jacks eyebrows

Grace’s first beach trip

The one where you take Grace to the beach for the first time

Family night

The one where you have a family night and jack dances with you

Dad night

The one where Jack is alone with the kids and Grace helps him

Big sister duties

The one where Grace wakes up with Nathaniel

Stinky daddy

The one where Jack farts in front of Grace

Grateful for you

The one where Jack buys you flowers

When did you know?

The one where Grace wonders his Jack knew he was in love with you

Grace turns 4

The one where you celebrate Grace's fourth birthday

Grace talking

The one where Grace tells a story

“It’s not nice to scream”

The one where you and Jack get into a heated argument and the kids wake up

Pregnancy fics

Finding out

The one where You find out you’re pregnant (this is my first ever fic for Jack)

Morning sickness

The one where You have horrible morning sickness

Small bumps

The one where Jack talks to the baby

Shopping for the baby

The one where Jack gets impatient

Mood Swings

The one where You get mad at Jack

Baby kicks for the first time

The one where you feel the baby kick for the first time

Not feeling well

The one where You are sick, and Jack takes care of you

Allergies

The one where You get allergies while being pregnant

He is sick

The one where Jack gets sick, but he’s worried about you

Gender reveal

The one where You find out the gender of your baby

Trying to get in labor

The one where You are over your due date

Pregnancy brain

The one where You keep forgetting stuff

Jealous reader

The one where You get possessive over Jack

“Maybe you don’t know any better”

The one where You tell Jack you’re pregnant with baby number two

“That’s LV”

The one where You get nauseous by jacks cologne

Photoshoot

The one where you take family pictures

#Grace Harlow #dadjack #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow stories #jackfic #jack x reader #jack harlow imagine #blurb #fanfic

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rennorthernlights · 9 months

Text

The World We Knew

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4: Snakes In The Garden,

Warnings: The depictions of the priest are not at all an embodiment of other priests and Christian. Implied grooming, Creepy older dudes being weird around KidReader, Nothing happens to the KidReader though, Zombies, Mentions of minor character death, Sexism towards woman, Zombie apocalypse brings out the worst

Backstory to get a better insight about Issac and Radio girl’s first group. (Radio girl being Reader)

She remembers the day she went to church for the first time. An impressionable age of 10 years old. Her mother made her father swore that if they ever had children that they should be allowed to choose their faith. Her father, a devout Christian, agreed to her mothers, an atheist in every sense of the word, request.

Granted her father tried to persuade his daughter to go to church, she just never wanted to go. That is until her father made Captain in the police department. His church was holding a celebration for her father’s honorable work. The people were nice and even though she hated being forced into a frilly dress that her mother picked out. She’d much rather watch Kim Possible or maybe Dragon Ball Z but at least Sunday school was fun.

Some of the kids even made her laugh and she sorta had a lil crush on one of the boys too… much to the teasing and amused smile her mother gave her. “Alright now, lil lady church is starting.” Her mom said as she waved goodbye to the cute looking boy. Sitting in the hard pews as she had half a mind to fall asleep that is until the robe looking dude walked up to the wooden thing. Tugging on her mom’s sleeve to ask her who and what that is. “That man is a priest. Father Abraham Norton and that’s a pulpit.” An O on her face as she nods and looks to him.

They say that children can understand an adult far better than an adult could. Something about being able to clock when something just ain’t right. That tiny, small feeling of something most would miss.

The beady eyes of the priest is what set her off. Not her fault since she was always the best at games like I Spy and Hide-and-Go-Seek. He was off… so to speak, at least about the way the man looked. “Like a snake,” her brows furrowed as her mom pinches her elbow to be quiet and to listen. She couldn’t shake how much of a snake he looked like to her. Blame all the zoo books she got for Christmas.

The way his tongue rolled on S’s and the eyes the man had. Like they were searching for something. “Good morning, my lambs.” The man says with a soft smile. Eyeing the crowd and she shakes her head of nerves when his eyes land on her for a bit. “Now I know we are celebrating and honoring our new appointed Captain but there is something that I must say.” His shoulders fall as he looks sad but almost forced, like when she gets caught taking another cookie when she’s not supposed to.

She looks to her mom but her mother just tilts her head motions for her to keep listening. “I have come to ask for forgiveness.” Some people gasp in the congregation. The Father continues, “20 years ago, I gave in to the sins of desire for a woman. I was seduced by the way she looked, and I couldn’t stop myself.” His brows creasing as he places a hand on his chest.

Her dads eyes widen and then narrow, like he’s calculating. His thumb tapping against his thigh as he always does when he’s recalling something. Until it stops. “If we were back in the old days then I would gladly pluck out my eyes. I’ve found out recently that I have a son. A man that is now 22 years old named, Issac.” He extends his hand, and a man stands. Tall, light skin, brown hair and green, beady eyes. The same as his father.

“A fitting name, Issac Norton-Cortes,” her father grasps her mothers hand and they stare at each other. Wordlessly speaking as the Fatherspeaks solemnly. “Unfortunately, Issac’s mother has passed from unforeseen events. Her last wish was for Issac to be joining our church to help out so please… bare no ill will towards him. It is not his fault that his mother seduced me. He is innocent in his creation that was formed by sinful lust.”

The priest is still speaking as her mother taps her hand, and she looks confused before her mom says, “We are leaving. Now.”

Standing up and walking out as her father has a distant look, a thundering storm raging in his eyes. Being sent up to her room as she doesn’t understand why her mom and dad wanted to suddenly leave. Her dad loves going to church, makes an effort to always have Sunday off. Her dad was about to be celebrated or something like that. So she couldn’t understand why they’d want to leave. Why is her dad so… strange right now?

Tip toeing out of her room as she overhears her parents speaking softly, “-other is Elizabeth Norten. I knew her, Maria. She wasn’t seductive or would ever do something like that. She was just barely 18! Now I know why she suddenly forced to leave.”

“Jamie you can’t mean…”

“Look, she… Elizabeth was troubled, got into fights, did some smoking but she’d never... She would’t.” Her father sounds… upset and angry. “For years I wondered what happened. Her parents never told me.

“Sounds like you really knew her.” Her mother says softly. Her brows turned upward as she’s never seen her husband look so. So distraught before. “Was she your friend?” A tentative ask.

“She…” he sighs, “she helped me out a lot with my dad. Sure, she was a bad influence sometimes, but she stuck up for me whenever I came in with a new bruise from my old man.” She moves closer to get a better look over parents as they look sad. Her mother holding her father in a tight embrace.

Whispering words that she can’t hear as her mom rubs a hand on her dads back. “Her parents brought her to Father Abraham to see if he could help. She wasn’t the same after the first week that she’d have confessionals. She became more and more quiet. Wearing hoodies and always being covered.” His voice breaks.

The realization of it comes crashing down on him nearly 22 years later. “If I’d known… If I had just taken a closer look… I didn’t even reach out to her.” Tears forming in her fathers eyes and the man rarely cries. “How did I not think that it was suspicious?” He remembers how Elizabeth’s parents suddenly disowned her. A crushing guilt in his chest. Her mother says nothing but just holds him to her. “No one knew why… until now.” He glares hard at the floor.

From then on, they’d barely go back to that church. Making up a reason to be excused as the priest smiles assuredly. She was always around her mother since she wouldn’t let her little girl out of her sight. Getting tired of it like children do with overbearing parents. She decided that to sneak away to play with the other kids.

Playing soccer with the kids until she gets tired of it. Can only kick a ball so much before boredom creeps in. She spots the Churches garden and voice in her head to not go in but against her better thought she goes in. Her eyes widening as the garden looks well cared for. Different plants and even some trees. She grins as she crouches near one of the plots. Her hands digging into the soil.

“Hello there,” a voice calls out as she sits with her knees on the dirt, playing with the rolly pollys. The other kids laughing in the background, most likely still playing soccer. She tenses and moves to look at whose is speaking. Green eyes and a wide grin, something that supposed to be kind yet for her 10 year old mind… she doesn’t feel okay.

“All by your lonesome in the garden? Where’s your parents?” He looks around before he steps forward. “My names Issac and you are?”

“My mommy and daddy says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” She tells him shyly as she stands up. Her feet shuffle close.

The man grins and he holds out his hand, “That’s very smart. You’re a very smart girl, aren’t you?” He laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, “Well my name is Issac.” Grabbing her hand and shaking it. “No longer strangers, see? I bet your name is Eve. A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Confusion evident on her face at the name, “My names not Ev-“

A voice cuts through the garden making both of them look towards the person speaking. “There you are! Where have you been I’ve been calling you for an hour.” Her mother spots her and rounds the corner faster as she spots Issac. The man grips her hand harder as she tugs back. Finally letting go when her mother places a hand on her shoulders. Her eyes narrowing as she holds her hand out for her little girl to hold onto.

“Gotta be more vigilant with your lil girl. Almost snatched her up,” he laughs but something in his eyes isn’t playful. Her mother pushes her behind her as she smiles far too sweetly. He continues speaking as he looks down at her and not her mother, “She’s a pretty thing too. She’ll make all the boys fawn over her especially at her age right now.”

The smile on her mothers face drops as she glares at him. “10 year old girls shouldn’t have to worry about boys. Stay away from my daughter.” Her tone tight as she moves her and her daughter along as he smiles wide.

As soon as they were closer to her father her mother told her to not speak to Issac again. That the man is up to no good especially since he’s talking to a 10 year old girl like that. Her mom can’t prove it but that man… that man is not a good man. She just knows it. Her mom has never been wrong about people before.

————————————————————

She groans awake. Her hands clenching and unclenching as her eyes blink. “Finally awake, my Eve?” She shivers with disgust at the nickname. Eve, it’s what he called her on the day they first met, and he’s been calling her that ever since. No matter how many times she tells him that’s not her name. Her head pounding as she tries to remember what happened. Her hand moving to massage her head, but she finds that she can’t move them. “Your head hurt, Eve? Sorry I was so rough with you.” The fake worry in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by her as she glares. “Shouldn’t fight your husband next time.”

“We ain’t married, Issac.” Glaring at him hotly as she struggles in the binds. “You’re not my husband and I ain’t your damn wife!”

“Oh, silly me,” he laughs that stupid noise. All nasally and all teeth, “How presumptuous of me. We never did consummate on our wedding night.” Her glare hardens as she remembers all too well that night and the days before that lead up to it.

————————————————————

She’s been on her own for a couple weeks. Given up hope that her parents are alive. Both aren’t answering their phones and when she went to where her mom worked it was already overrun with dead children and screaming teachers. Her father was one of the first responders to downtown Houston…. They don’t call that place a Dead-zone for nothing now days. It’s a miracle she even made it this far with what little she has. She’s been seeing a group every now and then… maybe she could talk to them and ask to join?

“Holy shit,” her eyes widen as she recognizes the priest. Her parents never let her go back after that whole incident with Issac when she was 10. Apparently, that alone was enough for their parents to leave that church. But… beggars can’t be choosers especially since the Priest is opening up the church for everyone to go to. The priest immediately recognized her as “Jamie and Maria’s daughter.” He smiled with those beady eyes that she could hear her younger selfs thought of him being a snake.

It wasn’t so bad save for the son that kept trying to talk to her. 2 months have come and gone faster than many anticipated. The random cold days and hot days messing with peoples perception of what month but she’s betting it being near December. She had hoped that the son of the priest would’ve forgotten about her in the 2 months that she’s been here but no.

“He really, like really, likes being around you.” Angelica, a friend she’s made in the time that she’s been here. “You don’t think it’s strange?”

“I know it’s strange but s’not like I can mention it.” She sighs as she grabs her pack. “If you haven’t already noticed. His dad is becoming like the leader of this group.” An annoyance in her tone as she thinks on it. It wouldn’t be too bad if the priest wasn’t spouting his ideas to everyone. At first everyone had a voice but slowly but surely it’s like the woman are being treated less. Just a couple days ago and she was almost taken off a scavenging hunt due to her being a woman. Issac stepped in and that’s the only reason why she’s still on the team.

“Doesn’t even make sense that they wanted to take you off. You’re one of the best especially since they’ve been coming back with less and less people.” Angelica notes. It’s true though. Yesterday the Andrews brothers, Edward and Connor, died. Issac was leading that scavenging group. Eric and Alexi died four days ago also when Issac was leading them. 2 weeks prior a couple more died… Issac was also… leading at the time. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s killing them.” She snorts and elbows her friend for being so bold with her words.

“Don’t say that. It’s not like those men were helping out round town anyways. Edward was a drunk and tried to drink all the alcohol that we’ve been using for wounds.” Rolling her eyes but it does seem strange that people have been dying. “Besides… it was zombies that killed them.” Patting her pants as since Issac would always come back to tell the harrowing tale of the dead outside, “that’s bound to happen at this point.”

“I’m just saying.” Angelica raises her hands. Her eyes flickering as some of the men come around. A look of disgust on Angelica’s face and she laughs. She wishes she would’ve meet her in university. “Here comes the dicks.” Her arms crossed. She knows her friend’s just upset because she’s been on ‘cleaning duty’. Some old fart told her that it’s better for a woman to be doing a ‘womans job’.

She’s just glad that— “Eve!” Speak of the devil. Issac comes running up with a wide grin. All teeth in it as he eyes her up and down making her bite back a shiver.

“That ain’t my name.” Gritting through her teeth as politely as she can. He’s been insistent on calling her that. It was cute in the beginning but now it’s just downright annoying. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll always be my Eve.” He laughs, his hands on his hips. Leaning forward, “No, no, just wanted to tell you that they’re passing out some more rations.” Her eyebrows perk up and even Angelica looks shocked. Angelica’s lips purse as she stands closer.

“Thought we were running low?” He looks at Angelica, his fingers flexing a lil as his left foot shifts a bit.

“We are but,” he pauses as he looks back from the friend to her. “We found some deer a couple weeks ago and we’ve been getting it ready to share it. Isn’t that wonderful, Eve?” He steps closer getting more in her space.

“Couple weeks ago?” Angelica muses and is shoulders tense a bit. “You mean when you came back with nothing?” Her arms crossed as she ain’t buying it. Angelicas’ never liked Issac, been more vocal about him being a creep and honestly that’s what she loves about Angelica. She’s never been afraid to speak her mind. “Came back with nothing except some men dead save for your friends. Strange ain’t it?” He turns his head towards her, his green eyes staring at her as his hands flexes again.

“We found a deer but didn’t want to say anything incase it’s infected. As for the men that died, I told you. Zombies attacked us.”

“Was that before or after you found this miraculous deer?”

Her hand touches on Angelica’s shoulder as Issac and her are having a stand off. The atmosphere shifting and she swears she could hear a pin drop. “Angelica.” She says and then looks to Issac and her, “A deer was found that’s all that matters.” Her friend scoffs and backs away. Walking away to cool off..

“You should’t be friends with her, Eve.” Watching Angelica leave before he turns and faces her fully. “My dads gonna announce some things when the food is passed out in the church. I’ll save you a seat.” He doesn’t offer, he never offers and always expects her to sit next to him.

“I appreciate that but I’m already sitting with Angelica.”

His hand reaches up and puts a hair behind her ear. It takes everything in her to not shove his hand away. “A pity. You need better friends.” A grin spreads on his face and she takes a step back.

Later that night when the food from the deer was passed the priest announced that he will be taking more of a leadership role, “Just until a vote happens.” He smiles wide and some of the men and even the woman are happy about it. Angelica had her concerns about it but nothing could be done. A couple months go by and the ones that tried to be leader would either get sick or somehow die. Of course, her friend called it suspicious.

“Georgie was the last person to try for it and he went on a scavenging group and somehow died by a zombie attack.” She says hotly, she hasn’t let it go and has spoken about it again and again. “Georgie was built like a brick house and knew his way with a knife and you’re telling me that he somehow died but not Issac or Issac’s friends?” She scoffs and scrubs the dishes.

It has been suspicious. Especially with the way things have been turning within the group. More and more women are put in ‘womanly’ roles. The men have outright refused to wash or clean things. Mandatory church meetings whenever the priest feels ‘called’ to say something too. Even she’s been takin off the scavenging groups finally. The men even tried to take her fathers rifle from her.

Doesn’t help that people have been on edge, everyone thinks the rations might be bad or spoiled since a good amount have been getting sick. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but you need to keep it down. Ange,” her friend walks off in a huff, “Ange, come on.” Her hand reaches out and grabs hers. “I trust you. You know I do. If you say it’s weird then I believe you.” Her voice softer as she looks at her friend.

“Look I think we sho—“ the sound of a bell ringing cuts her off. “Great.” Glaring in the direction of the church. “What has he been called to speak about now.” Normally the loud noises would attract the attention of the zombies but cars and some wooden fences have been used as walls. Along with patrols, their relatively safe. “Let’s get this over with.”

The people move closer to the church, the cold making people bundle up as much as possible. Texans aren’t built for the cold. More for heat and crazy hurricanes. Everyone thinks it’s somewhere near February. Maybe early April since sometimes it can still be cold. One of the reasons why everyone’s been snappy lately. Typically, animals should be coming back since Spring is slowly creeping up. “Yeah,” she murmurs in agreement, “Let’s hear what he has to say now and move along.”

The priest smiles at everyone coming in, not like anyone has a choice. His Bible prepped as he speaks on the pulpit. He drones on and on about sin and that the sinners outside the walls are trying to lead people astray, the sinners being the zombies and anyone not in town. Something she’s found weird. He keeps speaking and she looks around bored until he says something that makes her tense. “And as for the lovely woman of our town. God has put on my heart that it is now time for us to repopulate the earth. Even some of the man has said that they’ve felt God’s call to marry some of the woman here.”

Her blood runs cold as she can feel eyes on her. Angelica moves her hand to grip hers. “I would be more than happy to marry off people in our lovely town. I think it’s time for marriage and eventually… children.” The smile he gives doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t like the way he says children. Doesn’t like how she just knows Issac is staring at her. Hair standing up on the back of her neck.

Finally, the sermon ends and she leaves quickly with Angelica in tow. “We need to leave.” Angelica pulls her aside. “I don’t like this one bit. Not shittin on any Christian here but this feels more like a man-made call than God’s call.” And she can’t help but agree. They know they can’t just outright leave. They have no preserves and no way of knowing how bad it is out there since they aren’t allowed out anymore. None of the woman are.

Tensions rising in the town as the men have made proposals but the woman that have been proposed to would say no. The priest would mention how it isn’t right to go against God’s word but he understood by saying, “The ladies are just nervous about having such fine suitors.”

Things changed in the coming months, when Spring slowly started getting warmer. Summer on the horizon. People are still dying on the scavenging groups and people aren’t getting as sick from the rations. Unmarried women are no longer allowed anywhere without a chaperon because of ‘safety’ reasons. “Ladies aren’t as strong as our fellow men. The Lord has implored that we protect the weak and feebler bodies.”

Issac has been more and more insistent with being her chaperone even with Angelica always being around. He’s been hovering more around her, and she hates it especially when he keeps getting in her bubble. Someone tugs on her hand and then pulls her into a closet. “Hey!”

“Shh!” A hand presses to her and she relaxes as she recognized that Angelica is the one that grabbed her. “They’re kicking out some of the woman that has been saying no to getting married.”

“What?”

“Lily, you remember her? Button nose Lilly,” she nods and Angelica continues, “Sam’s been trying to marry her for weeks now. I just overheard Issac saying that he and the men are going to take her stuff and kick her out.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead fucking serious.” Her stare hard as she leans against the wall. “We need to leave.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere but here. I’ve told Tommy no 10 times already. If I’m going to get kicked out then I want to do it on my own terms.” Her hand reaches out and grabs hers. “Come with me. No more Issac. No more town. Just us.” Her thumbs rub on her hand. “We can leave this all behind us. Finally visit New York like you were telling me about.”

Thinking it over as she always does, careful and cautious, as she looks at Angelica. “Ange, I…”

“Look I.. I like you,” her eyes widen but Angelica still speaks, “and I don’t want to leave if you don’t. I’ll get kicked out anyways but Issac.” Her face sours. “I know he won’t let you leave. He’s been obsessed with you. I don’t like it. I don’t like how he stares at you.”

“You like me?”

“Is that all you got out of what I said?” Angelica frowns and then slowly smiles. Pulling her closer as she smiles. “Yes, dingus. I like you. Have for a while and I—“ the sound of a bell ringing again and she growls in frustration. Stepping back but a hand grabs Angelica and pulls her close to press a chaste kiss that makes her gasp.

“I like you to.”

“You Motherfucker.” A blush spreading and she glares lightheadedly. Holding her hand as they walk out the closet to listen to what the priest has to say. The sermons have been getting more and more strict. More far-right Christian ideals. The priest stands at the front of the church welcoming everyone in like he always does. His beady eyes stare at her and as she holds Angelica’s hand.

They sit at a back pew, whispering their plan as the priest talks. The men saying their amens as the woman, at least some of them are speaking. “It is with a heavy heart that I must say that Lily White will no longer be in our town.” Some gasps in the congregation as she holds tighter to Angelica’s hand. “From now on, a woman must marry if they are for their hand in marriage. The men have all been called to marry certain woman. To deny that is to deny God. We cannot allow sin and disobedience to be in our town.” They both look at each other and as soon as the sermon ends they nearly run out.

Green eyes watching as they rush out. Not stopping until they are in their shared room. “We need to leave, Ange.” Angelica nods and immediately starts packing their things.

#rennorthernlights #TWWK #the world we knew #john price #johnny mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #poly141 #poly141 x reader #zombie au #Don’t get attached #the Christian’s depicted on here are not good #that doesn’t mean that every Christian is bad #a-hole dudes being sexist and it ain’t cool #don’t be sexist #don’t be creepy

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jastersmohnson · 1 year

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Lizzy Caplan’s full thoughts on the “Monkey Business” episode

This is from an article that was published in December. I just discovered it (apologies if it’s already been shared), but I thought it was pretty illuminating. I had no idea that Lizzy had such distain for the scene, I do feel very sorry for her. It’s bizarre that Michelle Ashford and the writers insisted on the storyline making it to air when the cast and crew seemed fairly vocal about it being a bad idea, and the critics and audience have almost unanimously agreed that it’s the worst episode of the show by several degrees.

So here’s Lizzy’s full thoughts on the scene/storyline, filmed on her birthday, June 30, 2015:

“This was season three, which was not our strongest season — like, objectively and for some very valid reasons that are not worth getting into now. It was not as refined, let’s say, as the first couple seasons.

“So, it was summer. We were deep into shooting the season and one weekend Annaleigh Ashford, who is amazing and lovely and was on the show, she was doing a cabaret show in Las Vegas. A bunch of us decided to go. My birthday was that upcoming Monday and it was also the very early days of dating my now-husband. We wanted to go have this fun, early birthday Vegas weekend.

“It was a perfectly debauched weekend and then we flew back to LA Sunday night and I was in pretty rough shape. Very hung over. Like, Vegas hung over. And then Monday morning, crack of dawn, I had to be back at work.

“We were shooting in Griffith Park all day. It was easily 100 degrees outside. So hot and there was not a lot of shade and I was still feeling pretty bad from the night before. Exhausted, nauseous, overheating in all those wool clothes that people wore back in the 50s, with 30 undergarments underneath.

“And I’m also dreading the scene we had to shoot that day. I had been trying to convince myself that it wasn’t going to be as bad as I feared because this is a respectable show! The setup of the episode — I have never watched this nor will I ever watch it — was that esteemed sex researchers Masters and Johnson are called to the St. Louis Zoo because their gorilla just won’t mate and (the zoo staff) are tearing their hair out and they need help. And who are you going to call? Sex researchers.

“Somehow Masters and Johnson come to this realization that this frigid — I don’t even know if you can use the word ‘frigid’ for a male gorilla? — but this frigid gorilla needed motivation to get there. So my character, Virginia Johnson, does the most obvious and logical thing, which is to expose her breasts to the gorilla to inspire him to mate.

“When I tell you the amount of times we tried to push back on this storyline (laughs) to no avail. So here we are on set, it’s happening.

“And I remember this very, very vividly: I was feeling physically terrible, but also a deep, deep, deep embarrassment. I think it was hour 13 of what ended up being a 16-hour scorching hot day. And I’m unbuttoning my blouse to show my boobs to a man in a gorilla suit. And also, please don’t forget: It was my birthday.

“The camera was focused on my back, so you didn’t see nudity. You see me from behind, opening my blouse — I’m 90% sure it was only from the back. Again, I haven’t seen it. From my understanding, I wasn’t showing nudity, but it was very implied. And nudity was not uncommon on that show.

“So I remember looking over at the camera guy and I just saw the pity on his face as he’s mouthing: ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’ And he was actually a camera guy on ‘Fleishman is in Trouble,’ so we were just reminiscing about this.

“So I do the thing and I’m filled with a deep guttural shame — I didn’t want to do it but I had to do it. Then (laughs), the man in the gorilla suit — who is the only person on set having a worse day than me because it’s a billion degrees outside and he had to spend the whole day in this gorilla suit — he, in character, reacts to this display and then the gorilla is in fact inspired (laughs) by a human woman flashing him her breasts.

“And then the guy proceeds to go and start mating with the female gorilla.

“But the really crazy thing is that the guy in the female gorilla suit? That was the male gorilla’s actual son.

“So he had to look at me, and then make his way over to his son and pretend to mate with him.

“And I just wanted to walk into the ocean and die. That was the worst moment I’ve ever had at work.

“Working on that show was one of the most collaborative experiences, which was probably why this felt extra strange. There were things that pushed my level of comfort, but certainly, it was all my own choice and I was aiming to push it. I was never pushed by any producers to do anything I didn’t want to do — up until this point. There were a lot of times on that show where I had to steel myself in my trailer beforehand for scenes that I really believed in, but I was never pushed into doing anything. Which is why this felt like such an anomaly.

“When I signed up for this show, I had a pretty good idea of what might be involved. But it’s safe to assume that I did not anticipate I would be asked to show my breasts to a man in a gorilla suit in order to inspire the gorilla to mate.

“But also that’s what made everybody so sad. This was a show that was so respected and deservedly so. This is one of the jobs I’m most proud of ever, I’m so happy I was in this show. But there was something stinky about this third season. And to all of a sudden go from this lofty level of prestige to flashing your breasts to a gorilla — that feels like a pretty steep drop.

“The scene was made up, I say that with 99% certainty. I think they really were asked to go to the zoo, but I highly doubt — because it doesn’t even make sense! I don’t think this is how animal psychology works. I have no degree in animal husbandry, but I think it’s safe to assume this was a flight of fancy from some writer.

“Michael Sheen was as horrified as I was, if not more so somehow. Nobody wanted to look anybody else in the eye the whole time (laughs), it was horrifying.

“And it was so clear that everybody — the crew, who feel like the true team you’re playing on — we all felt the same. I couldn’t wait to get to a point where this was funny. But in that moment, it didn’t feel funny to me at all.

“I was probably a little more afraid to speak about this thing, even in a joking way, at first. But we had to do some press pretty soon after and Michael Sheen just went right into how stupid this gorilla thing was (laughs).

“I can’t imagine what this was like for the two guys in the gorilla suits. And they were clearly the best in the business. They were great at being gorillas! But you need therapy after that.

“I just imagine them driving home in complete silence (laughs) not knowing how to process the day.

“Perhaps we should employ the use of female breasts to solve all the world’s problems. Female breasts will heal the world — or at least, the world of the frigid gorillas in 1950s St. Louis.

“When I heard about this column, I knew there was no other story that would hold a candle to the level of deep shame I felt. I was feeling anger when I got home at the end of that day, but my boyfriend and I had this dinner reservation, and by the time we went to dinner, I was a shell of a human. It was definitely a memorable birthday.”

#Masters of Sex #Lizzy Caplan #Virginia Johnson #Michael Sheen #Bill Masters #Monkey Business

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