#ASIDE from my wanting to fuck the arm (which I’m not gonna bring up to my counselor lmao it’s irrelevant)

[vincentintheflesh]

Head On Over

“Damn, I look so fucking hot..” He mumbled to himself as he admired the picture of his exposed self.

“Wonder which one I should use for the next post..”

…

Draft edited 05/04/2015

Sup guys! Jason here.

As you can see, I’ve been taking pictures of myself out in the open and exposed! Why? Well, people don’t really pass by these areas and it gives me this weird (but good) feeling when I show myself off. Not in the kind of way where you feel like you could get caught- but in a way where someone is actively watching you. No one was ever there when I checked around though. Dunno. I swear I never got this feeling before getting to this place but it’s prob nothing.

Aside from my sexy little shots, everything here is pretty cool. Lots of nature, sunlight, mountains, and hot locals. One of the guys here in particular has really stuck in my mind. He didn’t really do anything interesting- he just seems to be everywhere. Dunno how he does it but I see him at least 3 times whenever I go out, and he has a different outfit on each time. Not gonna lie I was a bit creeped out because I thought he was stalking me. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that he never glanced in my direction until I approached him. I was able to talk to him a bit and I guess he’s cool and pretty hot up close. Also noticed something about his neck but I didn’t say anything.

He also told me that I was welcome to “head on over” anytime. Wasn’t sure if I really wanted to enter a stranger’s house at first,  but we’d already talked for a good bit so why not? What could go wrong? I could totally beat his ass if needed to. And I’m pretty sure that this area is relatively safe too so maybe he won’t kill me lol. Don’t really have much else to do anyway since my vacation is almost over. Might as well have a bit more fun before I go.

Draft edited 05/05/2015

Alright, I’m heading over to that guy’s house. Wish me luck dudes.

…

“Hey! Good to see you, Jason.” He nonchalantly said as he waved his muscular left arm at Jason. His smile was wide as he sat up from his shaded porch to walk towards him. As he moved into the sun, his hard and defined muscles revealed its chiseled form under its light. 

“What’s up, man.” Jason returned the smile, his eyes darting between the man’s face and abs.

“Come on in.” He said with a knowing smirk  “I’ve only got milk for drinks right now. Is that alright?”

“..You hinting at something?”

“...No.” He smirked as he pulled the door open.

…

The moment I walked through that door… I suddenly remembered the pictures that I took of myself and the feeling of it. Huh, that’s random.

Before I could question it any further, his voice pulls my attention towards him.

“Follow me.” He said in his usual friendly manner.

I immediately listened for some reason. I assumed that he was going to lead me to the living room or something, but he just kept bringing me to these doorless, empty, and identical hallways. We occasionally took a few turns but that was it. And throughout it all, he seemed a bit.. Out of it? Each time I tried to make conversation, he just gave me clipped answers with that same smile. What was up with him..? 

I looked behind me, contemplating whether or not I should leave but only saw the endless hallway.

“Oh- we’re almost there! Don’t turn around just yet!” He suddenly called to me from farther ahead. At this point, I really didn’t want to be here anymore. When I tried to just leave though, my feet just wouldn’t budge. It was like the carpet was gripping onto me whenever I tried to step away from the man, so the only way was towards him.

Ugh…

We eventually reached a room that seemed to somewhat resemble a living room. Wooden floor, two couches and a table.. And that was it. No windows or decorations. I knew it- this guy was a weirdo… I sigh as I stepped forward.

…

The moment he stepped into the room, he was overcome by an overwhelming numbness.

“…”

“…”

… Wait.. Why does my neck- Why can’t I feel anything…? 

“Sorry- ” the man apologetically said as he turned to me.

What’s going on..? 

“I’ve really been needing this..and so has the house so… Yeah.”

He shrugged. There was a bent smile on his lips.

“But I’ll take good care of your body, alright? It’s a promise.”

What the fuck is he talking about?? What’s happening?!

I tried to scream as I felt his cold hands gently clasp around my neck. And then, they suddenly tightened and pulled upwards.

Pop

“There we go!”

My eyes widened as I looked down after hearing the noise.

Is that.. 

My body? 

…

The man gently placed Jason’s head down onto the little table, facing him in a way that guaranteed that he would see what was about to happen. He silently smirked at Jason as he roamed his hands around the headless body’s bulging muscles. As he did so, his hands slowly inched towards his pants… and suddenly, the body’s semi-hardened package straining against his jocks was in full view for both Jason and the man. Jason couldn’t believe his eyes as he witnessed what was unfolding. His very own body twitched and squirmed whilst under the mercy of the grinning man.

For a moment, he stopped his groping and stepped back.

“Alright, give it to him.” He said, clapping his hands twice.

Just then, the spot of the ceiling directly above the body began to twist and morph as if it were slime. It only did so for a few seconds until something familiar emerged from it. A hint of recognition passed through Jason’s eyes as he watched it cleanly plunge onto the stump of his headless body. He glanced between the man that brought him here, and the head. They shared the same dark hair, dark eyes, stubble, thick eyebrows, styled hair, and mismatching skin tones on their necks… Suddenly, everything made sense to him.

The newly attached head slowly opened its eyes and looked around. Its lips curled into a smirk when its eyes fell upon Jason’s bodiless form. 

“Finally…”

Its right arm rose up and bent into a flex, while its other hand made its way down to its bulging jock, firmly squeezing it.

“Mmmm… Fuuuuck…” It moaned as it began to peel away its jockstrap to free his throbbing member.

As it controlled Jason’s limbs to feel its stolen muscles up, the other man approached his body from behind, pressing his tented pants against his bubble butt. The two of them lustfully grinned at each other before pressing their lips together. Their tongues twisted into each other whilst their warm bodies grazed on one another. The head began to stroke his hardened length and the man hungrily rubbed his cock against his ass, the both of them desperate for a release. The man then pulled away and repositioned himself in front of the body. He kneeled down and quickly took its length deep into his throat. Wet squelches of his mouth echoed throughout the room as he relentlessly thrusted his head back and forth.

The body thief reeled its head back and grunted in pleasure. It thrusted forward, grasping the man’s head as he erupted, warm drops of white leaking out from the corners of the man’s mouth.

And throughout all of this, Jason could only watch as a bystander- hindered by his bodiless form. 

“...It’s… cold…” he finally said. His eyelids became heavy as he drifted off to a deep slumber. The ceiling shifts again, twisting and turning. This time, thick tendrils emerge from it, reaching down onto Jason’s head and encircling it. As if accepting an offering, it pulled his head into itself.

“Do you think he’ll mind a little makeover?” The man nonchalantly asked the head as he looked at the ceiling.

“Well, who would mind looking like me… or rather, us?” The head replied with a laugh.

The man smiled “Hm, no one of course- but we’ll need to find a body for him.”

“Right right… But why don’t we have a bit more fun before that..?”

“I'm all yours.”

[cu7ie]

BIMBOFICATION. ft. geto suguru

(>◡•́)— ★ authors note. IM BACK BITCHES. WITH THE HORNY SHIT AKAKKAKAKA . kinktober day one! masterpost here. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ content warnings. dumbification, reader is a bimbo - ditzy, hypersexual, huge airhead vibes be warned. they are obedient and listen to what geto tells them. reader wears feminine clothes, has a 'clit', and is referred to as a 'girl', no use of she/her (ahahaha i love gender things). cock sucking throat fucking all that nasty gluk gluk shit y'eard?

You’re not stupid.

Forgetful, yeah! Occasionally uneducated, of course. But dumb? You’d surmise that conclusion to be a bit of a stretch; despite how often you find yourself trying to convince people of the contrary.

It is typical of humans to forego their ‘common sense’ on occasion, though it never seems to be a problem when anyone else does it! When Gojo eats all his candy and doesn’t share with anyone at the party, it’s cool; but when you do that, you get all kinds of pushback: “What’s wrong with you?” Nothing! The chocolate was gonna melt if you didn’t do something about it! “What are we supposed to give to the trick or treaters now?” All the twizzlers you left behind, duh.

Shoko gave you a look and sipped her sake, Gojo’s pointed barks of laughter chasing you back to the comfort of the kitchen. There you see Geto; your boyfriend, whose presence settles amicably in the gaps of your expression when he looks up at you with that beckoning fondness. He crooks his fingers and you bound over quite thoughtlessly, much to his evident amusement. 

Despite how much you insisted on matching costumes, Geto struck out of his own accord, the fake knife accompanying his Ghostface costume down on the counter. The real knife he was using to cut up the peppers is set aside as he busies himself with the sink.

You’re wearing one of those sexy school uniforms. Mini bordering on microskirt, paired with a cute number that shows your midriff- the dip in your chest. Your gogo boots click noisily on the floor a little as you sidle up next to him.

Geto pats your head when you get close enough, hands damp after a fresh rinse, and you preen from the contact. “Hey babyyy!” You gush a little, setting down the rest of the candy on the counter. “Can you get me a bowl?” He tilts head at you a little, looks down at the bag a second.

“Babe, didn’t I tell you to get the big bag?” Geto asks and shuffles over to the cabinet as you wash your hands to pick up where he left off. “Yeah! I did, doesn’t it look big to you?” 

“Yeah… of course it does. But remember that conversation we had about eating things that aren’t yours?” He brings back the bowl, but also a sternness to his grin, which all of a sudden doesn’t meet his eye. “Well yeah Suguru!” You’re looking down now, cutting vegetables with sudden interest and precision, sweeping it up into little piles. “It's not like I'm stupid …” His figure lingers in your periphery as the words leave your lips, the air about him suddenly feeling … tense. 

Then his hand is on yours.

“Look at me honey.” He gives you a squeeze, and you go to look up on instinct. Hesitate. “What?” Your grip on the knife softens, and it soon clatters atop the cutting board. “What, I said.”

“I never said you were stupid.” Your eyes met his before you realized, and the indignant scowl you want to make shrivels up inside you like a dried cocoon. “You just have a hard time saying what you mean right?” He blinks owlishly at you. “I know you don’t wanna lie to me.” “But I’m not-” Geto interrupts with a shake of his head. “Maybe one time I could forgive you, but twice? To my face?” You feel the sun in your face, fire hot heat setting you ablaze with embarrassment, feigned ignorance. A nagging feeling to obey. “I… I..”

“You?” He chimes cloyingly. You stiffen your upper lip. Hone your resolve. 

“M’not lying! Now lemme go!” Your arm budges when he wants it to, so you’re not quite moving until a few agonizing seconds pass, when Suguru lets out a low whistle and sigh, shaking his head at you dismissively, before you’re allowed to resume cutting vegetables. He dumps the candy into the rest of the bowl and takes his leave, chattering with his friends in the living room before coming back, empty handed.

The silence is maddening. He comes back, shuffles around the kitchen, then stops somewhere just beyond your sight, and craning your neck to look back at him would beckon his scrutiny. So you refrain. Stir fry the vegetables, and refrain. Feel a bead of sweat crest on your forehead and slide down your cheek from the heat. Refrain.

The breath against your neck is sudden and swift as Suguru fixes himself behind you, knocking  his head gently against yours as a grasping hand slides over your stomach.  He goes for the gas on the stove before you can get a protest out, his other hand teasing the rim of your skirt, smoothing down a short pleat till his palm can grope your thigh.

“After a little deliberation … I’ve decided I forgive you. For the lying.” His fingers dimple the skin he touches, sliding ever so slowly under the fabric. “Because I know you’re not a silly girl. You can be quite attentive when you want to be, can’t you?” 

“Yeah… yeah I can.” Your breath quickens a little as you press your ass back into the thin fabric of his hood, the feeling of his cock growing to hardness making you quiver with anticipation. His right hand on your thigh stills, tracing around your side and to your hip - growing stiff and heavy. The left dips boldly under your costume, a finger or two stalling in the spot right above your clit.

“Gojo and Shoko offered to get more candy - I can finish cooking after we’re finished here.” His lips press teasingly against the shell of your ear, and your resistance dwindles a bit. “Right now, all I want from you is a favor.” “Favor? I can do that - I can..” Geto chuckles. “I know you can sweetheart. Shh, sh. It’s my turn to do the talking now, okay? Listen.” You nod sharply. 

“Turn around.” You do. In an instant, stretching out your spine cat-like to press your chest up against him, your nipples hardening like pebbles beneath your blouse. You close your eyes and lean in for the kiss that should be inevitable - but no warmth meets your lips. Instead, an apathetic gloved finger. “Mmph?” Your confusion is apparent. You blink your eyes open and are greeted by a wry smile.

“Sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard for you to just listen. Then it came to me - an epiphany. Little girls like you just have a certain kind of skill set. Forgive me, okay? I just wasn’t giving you the right direction. But it’s okay! It’ll never happen again.” With those words, his expression grows less compromising - resolute, grim, determined. Almost makes you want to leap out of your skin - the fright of him not being happy with you bearing down greatly on your mind.

His hands come up to your shoulders and apply downward pressure. “On your knees.” 

You follow without hesitation.

His mirth wrinkles the corners of his eyes as you squirm down there. The floor is cold and your knees are getting dirty, and he knows that stupid look you make when you’re thinking to complain; though he’s never seen this level of restraint from you before. You’re quiet as you dig your fingers into your skin, and he knows he’s proud.

“Good girl.” Something blossoms in your chest when he says that, profound yet airy, a lightheadedness emblazoned into your forehead while the blood settles in your cheeks. Then that damn hand comes down again; which you thought was gonna muss your hair a bit more, but settles rather firmly against the back of your head.

His loose costume he’s wearing isn’t big enough to hide how hard his cock is, but it’s like he’s making you wait for it - want and yearn for it. Because he doesn’t move for a moment, just gets used to the look of you down on your knees as your fidgeting starts to feel more and more uncontrollable.

“Hey! Are you just gonna leave me high n’ dr-” A white finger presses to his lips as his other hand keeps holding your head. “Quiet now, girl. Be quiet.”

You’re good! A little impatient, but you’re good, goddamn it! Trying to be, for him - the love of your life, who’s got you down on your knees, fixing to ruin your pretty makeup for the afternoon.

Quiet. 

Quiet. 

Too damn quiet. Too much fucking silence. He’s looking at you, you think - because your eyes are shut tight and the embarrassment is beginning to dawn on you, and everything’s hot, and scary, and Suguru - is he mad at you?-

The sudden feeling of his hot hard cock flopping against your cheek makes you leap like a fish to water. Your eyes bulge open a bit, and your mouth gapes open in that instant, tongue lolling out for purchase on his heated flesh, heady scent weaseling into your nostrils and making your thighs clamp down around your own hand - which you hadn’t noticed snuck between your thighs. Your twitching fingers reach up to grab it …

“Stop.” You whine loose and loud, eyes flickering up to his face to communicate your desperation, and confusion. “Just use your mouth.” His hand reaches towards the base of his cock and flops it onto your lip proper; and you suckle on the head like it’s the sole thing providing you oxygen. “See? There are things you’re damn good at … Oh fuck -”  All you can hear besides his voice is your heart thumping in your chest and the saliva building in your mouth, the sloppy ‘schlorp’ as you take him to the base - deep into your throat - and back out again, the salty taste of his cock and precum something you’ve missed terribly.

A little voice crawls along the back of your mind. At home, it says. This is where you belong. Or maybe that’s Suguru’s wheedling. Words are falling from his lips, but you’re drowning in an effortless dream. “Good girl. … easy … taking me so well.”

The grip on the back of your head has grown tighter, as he shifts and adjusts his hips to help your further along. Your wet slurping is undercut by the sound of his balls slapping against your chin, fuzzy, familiar and pleasant. 

Then it’s as stern as a pinch. You can feel his cock bulge out your throat, cheeks hollowed as you take him to the base. Tears sting your eyes a bit, but it’s a liberating pain. His grunts grow in their intensity, and you feel soaked to the bone, sitting on your hands so they can’t jump up and fondle his balls - you won’t disobey! You refuse, refuse, refuse -

“Close, haah, close your eyes, precious.” Your tummy flutters as you weld them shut. Suguru’s hips stutter, pause, then pull back. 

A schlicking sound, then your prize. You open your mouth as you realize he’s cumming all over your face - streams of it making it into your happily awaiting maw, while the occasional strand undershoots - getting some on your chest and cheeks. Suguru sighs happier than you’ve heard in a while, and a part of you feels effortlessly at ease. Reset and pleasant and whole; besides the aching nag between your thighs. “You can speak now.” You try, throat fucked raw and a little raggedy. “A-are you going to fuck me now? Please? I can’t - I can’t wait anymore!” Suguru smiles gently, but insincerely. “No, of course not. This was a lesson, not a reward.” He tucks himself casually back into his costume. “Besides, we have guests, honey.”

You pout, feel like you wanna cry a little. “Don’t give me those crocodile tears. You’re a big girl, remember?”

“...I guess.”  You sniffle. Suguru nods and helps you back to your shaky feet. “Not ‘I guess’. You are.” He grants you a chaste kiss on your lips, licking a bit of himself off of you, then pulling back. “Now, go clean yourself up.” He starts towards the sink, eager to resume dinner. “Those two should be back any second now.”

[kinardsevan]

can't outdrive pain (some day it's gonna take the wheel)

Evan leans back on the couch as he slides the photo album back down on the coffee table. He wasn’t snooping at all, but in the process of moving some things around in the closet while moving his own things in, he’d stumbled upon it. And the thing was, he didn’t really have one of his own. His parents weren’t present enough when he and Maddie were kids to think of having family photos done after Daniel’s death. Most of the pictures that did exist were from disposable cameras Maddie paid for with her own money once she was old enough, and a number of those photos had gotten destroyed by Doug. Evan never really complained about it because there was stuff that Maddie had hung onto and still had, even now, like the postcards he’d sent her while bouncing all over the US and into Peru before he’d ended up in LA. 

Still, for all he’d expected to find in the album, which wasn’t a lot, given how tight-lipped Tommy still was about his childhood…he wasn’t expecting what he did find. 

. . .

“Baby?” 

Tommy comes around the corner of the living room into the kitchen as Evan slides a tray of fresh brownies onto the counter, smiling up at him as he reaches behind himself to untie the apron. There’s enough batter on it that he’s going to have to wash it, but that can be a problem for later. 

“You baked for me,” Tommy cooes as he crosses the space, a smile crossing his face as the wafting heat of the fresh brownies hits his nose. Evan tugs the apron over his head and folds it, setting it aside on the counter as Tommy reaches him, slotting an arm under Evan’s around his back, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“You kept talking about them yesterday and I had some free time,” Evan replies. He chuckles softly as Tommy trails kisses down his jaw to his neck, nuzzling against his pulse point briefly. 

“So good to me,” Tommy murmurs against his skin. 

“Yeah,” Evan murmurs, his face scrunching as he tries not to think of the photo album. When Tommy pulls away, he busies himself finding a knife so he can cut into the brownies and get them each one. “How was your day?” 

“Long,” Tommy replies, circling the peninsula and leaning against the counter. He grins happily when Evan passes him a plate with the brownie on top of it. It’s still steaming, almost too hot to eat yet. “What about you?” 

Evan inhales a deep breath, unsure if it’s the right time to ask. He gulps.

“I found something today,” he admits. “I was emptying boxes, trying to find space-..” 

“I mean I’d expect you to do that,” Tommy replies. “You are moving in. You should find space for yourself.” 

Evan nods, still his expression is mildly pained as he looks up at his boyfriend. “I found a photo album.” 

“Oh.” 

Tommy says it like it’s so simple; like it doesn’t mean anything. But the look in his eyes betrays the sound of his voice, and it makes Evan’s stomach flip. 

“I wasn’t trying to-..” 

“I’m sure you weren’t,” Tommy says. There’s no anger in his tone, but it still hurts Evan to hear it. His gaze is locked on the counter between them now, refusing to look up. Evan sighs softly, settling his own plate down. He walks around the peninsula and slides his arms around Tommy’s waist, physically having to move his boyfriend to get him to turn towards him. 

“Talk to me, babe.” 

Tommy gulps. “I honestly never wanted to have to tell you.” 

“Tommy,” Evan lilts. He slides his right hand back, bringing it under his boyfriend’s chin and making him look up. When Tommy’s eyes meet his, they’re wet. Evan’s frown sets deeper, reaching his thumb up and brushing away at the first tear as it falls. 

“You know what my childhood was like,” Evan murmurs. “How little my parents cared when my bone marrow wasn’t enough to save the kid they were concerned about.” 

Tommy nods. They’ve had many conversations about his personal hatred towards the Buckleys and how fucked up he thought it was that at three months old, they’d put their newborn through that kind of procedure to save their oldest child. They’d originally planned to the cord blood—at least, that was the story that Maddie had told him when he’d asked—but it had become contaminated, and given that Evan was already intentionally a genetic match for Daniel, they’d managed to convince his care team to allow the bone marrow transplant, given that it was a last-ditch attempt. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that the graft hadn’t taken. 

Still, for as little as Tommy had given in information about his childhood, he’d never really wanted Evan to know just how much he could understand the pain he’d suffered through. 

“I told you my father and I don’t talk,” he rasps, sinking against one of the barstools against the counter. Evan nods. 

“What I didn’t tell you was why,” Tommy continues. 

Evan sits down in another one of them, his hands sliding down until they find Tommy’s and squeezing them lightly. 

“Kinda figured after everything about Gerrard that it was because of your sexual orientation,” he replies. 

“That was certainly part of it,” Tommy replies with a quirk of his eyebrows. “But it wasn’t all of it.” 

Evan nods again, watching and waiting as Tommy stares at the counter. 

“Things were never good between him and my mom. That militant attitude you joke about me having? He always had it. It was like even after he took off his fatigues, the drill sergeant attitude stuck around. A-and when my mom left, he turned it on me,” he explains. Evan nods. The few photos from Tommy’s childhood showed telltale bruises. The average person looking at them might take them for childhood injuries, but their job and Evan’s own childhood had given him a generous education on what abuse looked like. 

“When I was ten, he broke my arm,” Tommy tells him. Evan had seen a picture of him in a sling but hadn’t pieced that together. “My teachers figured it out, and they called CPS. They tried to find my mom, but whether she’d disappeared into a bottle or was so far into drugs at that point, I’m not sure. Either way, she wasn’t an option, so they put me into the system.” 

Evan lifts Tommy’s hand, kissing his fingers. 

“It wasn’t great there, either,” Tommy admits softly. “There were people who…” He pauses, shakes his head. “Nobody hit me, but it wasn’t any better. A-anyway, he did the classes they required him to do, and I was sent back to him right before I turned thirteen.” 

“You’re not going to tell me it got better,” Evan surmises, his throat tight from the expression on Tommy’s face. 

“No,” Tommy whispers back, pressing his lips together in a hard line. “At that point, I’d figured out that I was gay, at least to myself. I was home for like three months when he caught me kissing this kid who lived around the corner.” He pauses again, staring down at Evan’s hand on his as the blonde traces his thumb over the back of Tommy’s knuckles softly. “He beat me up so badly from that, that I didn’t leave the house for a week. But it was summer, so no one knew.” 

“No one caught him,” Evan asks, anger tinging his tone. “CPS didn’t-..” 

“They’d done a visit like a week before that,” Tommy explains, glancing up at him. “Had no reason to come back so soon. Anyway, after that, I just kept my head down and stayed away from home as much as possible. When I got into high school, I joined as many extracurriculars as I could. I found ways to make money so that I could afford the hotel stays and travel, and when I was seventeen, I enlisted. He thought that was great until he found out I wasn’t going to be a marine because ‘no son of mine is going to join the army. Three generations of Kinard men have been marines’.” 

Evan huffs, shakes his head. 

“You already know how it went there,” Tommy says softly. “When I got home, I called up a friend from high school and was able to sleep on his couch for a few weeks until I got my own place and enrolled in the fire academy. And then when I was twenty-five, he showed up at the 118.” He pauses again briefly, lets out a haughty laugh. “He got on great wtih Gerrard.” 

“Of course he did,” Evan mutters under his breath. He already hates the man they’ve both had to call their former captain. 

“He said he wanted to mend fences, but I knew after seeing him with Gerrard that nothing had changed,” he states. “So I didn’t make an effort, and he’s one of those people who thinks your elders deserve respect regardless of how they treat you, so when I didn’t call, it didn’t move forward.” 

“Thank god for small favors,” Evan replies quietly. Tommy nods. Evan looks up at him, and it seems that Tommy’s finished. He stands up from his stool and moves into his boyfriend’s space, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck, fingers sliding up through the curls on the back of his head. “He’s unworthy of any of your time.” 

“That’s what I tell myself,” Tommy responds softly. 

“I hope you know that you are worth so much more,” Evan tells him, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of Tommy’s head. “I know you still hold guilt over how you were with Gerrard, but that trauma bond didn’t really give you the space to be a better person.” 

Tommy quirks his lip up in a skeptical expression. That’s a common disagreement for them, but Evan is determined to get him to forgive himself one day. 

“I love you,” Evan adds. “Every part of you.” 

Tommy gives him a small smile. “Sometimes I think you love me more than I deserve.” 

“Well, welcome to the party,” Evan replies with a smile on his own lips. “Evan Buckley. My boyfriend makes me feel the same way.” 

Tommy chuckles. 

“What’s the saying,” Tommy murmurs to him, pulling Evan closer, looping his arms around his waist. “We’re all just looking for someone whose demons play well with ours?” 

Evan leans down, brushing his lips against Tommy’s before leaning back enough to look down at him through lidded eyes. “Think I’ve found mine.” 

Tommy smiles at him, pulling him in so they’re chest-to-chest. “God I hope so.” 

[girliemattitude]

—-It’s okay, no one will hear us babe - — M.S - —don’t steal it <3

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this so please be nice<3 A/N (2): This is my work please don’t steal it :)

…………..…………..…………..…………..…………..…………..……….…………..……….

Matt and his brothers were felling really homesick so they decided to go back to Boston for a month, which you totally understood even though you knew you were gonna miss your boyfriend like crazy.

You guys would face time and message each other everyday, all day but by the third week Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. He mentioned how much he missed you to his mom and she suggested him that he should bring you there, she adores you so the idea of having you in her house for a week was a thrilling for her.

Matt didn’t hesitated and he bought you a plane ticket from L.A to Boston that same day, you were shocked and told him that he shouldn’t have spent that much money on you but you were also happy that you’ll get to see him.

You arrived very early in the morning and the boys picked you up at the airport, you had an early breakfast from McDonald’s drive thru and then y’all head to their house, you said hello to his parents and then you and Matt slept and cuddle til noon.

That same day at night Matt got a little touchy with you but you pushed him away, you didn’t want to, you have missed his touch so much but you couldn’t bare the idea of his parent hearing you.

Right now is your second night at his house, it’s 3:30 in the morning and you guys are still awake, he’s cuddling you from behind, his left arm is on your waist, his hand stroking gently your stomach and his face is place on the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath near you and you felt warm, suddenly he started to leave sloppy kisses on your shoulder and neck, his grip on your waist tightened.

To say you felt horny was a statement, you wanted nothing more than to role over and ripped his clothes off but you were at his parents house and you felt like you were disrespecting them. His left hand travel from your stomach down to the hem of your pijama shorts so you put your hand on top of him to stop him, “Matt we can’t, everyone’s gonna hear us”.

“It’s okay, no one will hear us babe, just relax”, he said pushing your hand away before his went under your shorts caressing slowly your clit that’s only covered by the thin fabric of your panties.

You let out a soft and sensual moan when he pushes your panties aside and his fingers moved up and down trough your folds, his lips never leaving your neck.

He keeps teasing your folds with his middle finger and his thumb is circling on your clit, pressing it gently. You move to lay on your back so he could have better access to you, he looks up at you for permission and you nod, he doesn’t waste anymore time and he inserts his middle finger deep inside of you, “gosh, you are so wet for me” , “you have no idea how much I’ve missed to have you like this” , Matt whispers.

Your only response being a moan that came out louder than expected so you cover your mouth with your hand, he fastens his movements and inserts another finger on you, his right hand are squeezing your boobs and you can’t help but squirm from the pleasure, struggling to stay quiet, “Maatt”, you moan, “it feels so good”, the thoughts of being at his parents house are long forgotten as you place your hand under his boxers and start to stroke his hard dick returning the favor, both of your hands moving at a rapid pace at the same time , you turned your head to look at him and you kissed him hard as you continue to pleasure each other, the only noise on the room being your shaky breaths and the sound of his fingers going in and out of your wet pussy.

“Y/n…fuck I think I’m gonna cum”, he says against her lips.

“Me too, just go a little faster please”, you said entering your climax and rubbing your lips together to muffle your moans.

Matt’s movements increased even more and you felt his dick twitch a little as he tenses his body and lets out soft whimpers as he cums, your orgasm also arriving just in time.

You ride out your high between his fingers and you both stayed there for a minute to catch up your breaths, he removes his finger from inside of you and he licks them looking at you before he touches your face and gives you a passionate kiss, “I love you so much” , he says pulling away from the kiss, “I love you more”, you say cuddling him, you let out a yawn and you close your eyes tiredly on his arms.

…………..…………..…………..…………..…………..…………..……….…………..……….

[dollfaceksj]

BDSMSBSKFNSKSNKSD A DOSE OF WHATENDKSBSKSND DND FKDNDKDNSKSMS. CLOVER IM DKS SLSNSLSNS SKS. OC IS PISSING ME OFF. WTF IS WRONG WITH U IS A PERF TITLE BC WTF IS WRONG W HER !!! WHERE TF THEM PILLS COME FROM !!!!

this was written in a hurry. didnt feel like bullet point format would fit w this chapter. its not my best work but i hope yall get the feel i was trying to convey <3 (i won’t answer asks that spoil the story! gonna wait a few days so i don’t spoil the other readers who arent active currently!)

tw: body image issues(!!!) very deeply rooted issues that majority of women n ppl go thru. u have been warned. <3

wc: 2k ish

can’t afford love | myg (m) #20

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

“Why the fuck do you have a dose of birth control pills?”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The instance the words leave his lips, your heart free falls—no, plummets—to the pit of the Earth. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. He shouldn’t have found out this way.

You can’t bring the anxious quiver in your lips to stop when your mind travels at lightning speed trying to come up with a response. An explanation. An excuse. A lie.

But nothing comes out.

There’s nothing that you can bring yourself to say.

You messed up.

Are you even sorry? Or are you Just sorry you got caught?

Your eyes mindlessly stare at the box of pills like it’s going to vanish into thin air and you desperately want to witness it.

Doesn’t happen, though. The box stares back at you like it’s mocking you. Laughing in your face whilst being in his grasp.

He says your name. Quietly. Angrily. Repeats it when you don’t respond. Sounds like his voice is inside your head yet it also sounds like it’s coming from a galaxy that is seven million light years away.

After what seems like ages—which in reality was just a few seconds—you finally find the voice in the back of your throat that seemingly abandoned you in your time of need. “It’s an old box of pills and besides, why are you snoopi–”

“The label says you bought these two days ago. I’m not fucking stupid.” The words don’t just roll off his tongue, they launch out of his mouth like a spear. Penetrates your chest. The tip of said deadly spear nudges at your heart. Pokes it a little. Maybe makes it bleed a little, you’re not too sure.

Your panicked gaze slowly shifts to meet his angry eyes after he aggressively throws the box back onto your dresser.

“And if you’re going to berate me for snooping, someone has been trying to reach you. Called you 3 times. Just went to check to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.” He steps aside and nods towards your purse, which is now lying on its side, wide open with the contents spilled out. Your phone. Lip gloss. Wallet. Tube of Vaseline. 3 q-tips. Pack of gum. Few loose pain killer capsules.

You slowly start shaking your head and take a small step back, hoping to enlarge the distance between the two of you that you had tried to close just a few moments ago. “You won’t get it, so just–”

“No,” he says as he stomps to you, wrapping his hand around your bicep to stop you in your tracks. “You’re going to stop fucking lying to me. What the hell has been going on with you? Why are you acting like this?”

You try to wiggle your arm out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you go that easily. Tightens his grip. Enough to keep you still. Doesn’t hurt, though.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me g–”

He pulls you a little closer. Not in a romantic way. In a don’t-you-move-an-inch way. “Why won’t you just talk to me? I don’t understand why you keep pushing me away.”

Swallowing is starting to feel like sandpaper scratching its way down your esophagus. “Please, just– stop.”

He shakes his head, damp black hair swinging back and forth. Water dripping off his ends onto his shoulders like shiny pearls. They drop onto the fabric of his shirt, creating tiny little polka dots that are darker than the color of his shirt. “No, I won’t stop. You’re crossing the fucking line and you know it.”

He’s got you. That much is clear.

The silence that envelops around you is so prominent. Heavy. Wraps around you. Kind of like you’re a fetus in a pregnant belly.

Heat starts rising to your nose and cheeks, enough for you to realize that you’re starting to get emotional. Doesn’t take much longer for tears to start rolling down your cheeks.

Is there any point in hiding it now?

“You’ll never understand, Yoongi.” You shake your head as you bring your hand up. Wipe your nose with the back of your hand. Sniff softly.

His chest deflates as he heavily exhales. Feline eyes soften for a moment before his brows pinch together again. “Then make me understand.” His voice is still angry. Furious. Fuming.

“Nothing’s been the same for me, don’t you get it?” you shakily murmur, finally wiggling out of Yoongi’s grasp but not bothering yourself to get rid of the proximity between you two. Somewhere there’s comfort in it. “I know I shouldn’t have got those, I fucking know. But what you don’t know is what it feels like, okay?”

“Like what fee– What the hell are you even talking about?”

You cut him off. Burst out. “I feel disgusting, okay?”

His frown deepens. Eyes never leave you. The intensity on his features keeps you glued to the floor beneath your bare feet.

Before he can even respond, you continue with your outburst. “You don’t know what it’s like to have been the it-girl, to have been looked at and craved by any- and everyone and to now look and feel like this.”

It’s the truth. Yoongi was the king of your college because he had you. You made heads turn. You made guys fight their best friends. You made girls copy your clothes and makeup.

And now, here you are. Gotten rid of a full-length mirror in your bathroom because you hated seeing yourself naked.

Silence prevails once again. Just for a few moments that feel like centuries.

His expression doesn’t change. “Like what?”

“Ugly! Fat! Disgusting! Don’t you get it? My hair fell out, I have stretchmarks and scars all over my body, my tooth fell out at one point, my boobs are saggy, I don’t feel like taking care of myself. I burst into tears whenever I even remotely look at myself.”

You continue, pointing an accusatory finger at Yoongi and press it into his chest until he winces. “And don’t you fucking get it wrong. I fucking love Jun. I would do it all over again. I love being his mother and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that I’d change it for. But nothing prepared me for this. I haven’t gone out, I haven’t done anything. I bring Jun to daycare and pick him up and that’s it.”

You start backing away from him. Lips still quivering and brows furrowed in hurt.

As you approach your bed, you sink down. Bury your face in your palms. Sob a little. “But then we started being intimate again and you made me feel so beautiful. So wanted. I didn’t see it coming at all. Like everything I was seeing was a lie and everything you saw was the undeniable truth.”

You take a shaky breath to continue, “I meant it when I said I wanted the baby, that was never a lie. I wouldn’t lie about that. But as we kept having sex, you just…” you sniff, “made me so addicted to the way you made me feel. Made me feel so good physically but also like I was the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

Your eyes involuntarily shift up to meet his but in the instance you do, you regret it.

He’s frowning. Black eyes staring you down. Arms crossed over his chest. Looks like his mind is racing at a million miles a minute.

You drop your head again, hurt coating your voice. “I got scared. Scared that I’d get pregnant when I was finally starting to gain some of my self esteem back. Scared that I’d have to end our arrangement and we wouldn’t have that anymore. That I wouldn’t see you anymore.” You steal another glance at him before shifting your eyes back to the floor. His face is still the same. “I decided to get birth control the day before the award ceremony. I swear, I just wanted to delay the pregnancy only by a month or two. I just wanted to feel okay for a little while longer.”

It’s quiet. Really quiet. Your vision is blurry. Makes the floor look like a pool of blood thanks to the bordeaux rug. Makes his feet look like two hazy clouds.

You hold your heart when he finally speaks up. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Ugh.

He doesn’t get it. He will never understand. Never.

“Because it’s humiliating! It’s embarrassing. I…” You exhale deeply in an attempt to compose yourself. “I’m ashamed, okay? The man that once saw me as the queen of the world has to see me come down to this? I didn’t want you to think of me as this… this pathetic, insecure woman. I didn’t want you to think ‘is this really what I once loved?’.”

The frown on his brows deepens. He kind of looks genuinely offended but still tries to keep the rest of his expression as neutral as possible. He’s failing, though.

Not possible when the line between his brows looks deeper than the Pacific Ocean. When his lips twitch like he wants to yell. When the veins in his neck look like they want to pop out of his skin.

You take a deep breath after the explanation. Hang your head down. Wipe your tears with your palms. Sniff quietly. Allow a soft sob to escape your system—which makes your frame tremble slightly.

All those days, weeks, months that you spent hating yourself. Mourning the you that once was. Mourning the Yoongi that loved you.

It all comes back to you in the form of tears. Sobs. Pain.

It’s so quiet that you hear him preparing to speak. The way his lips kiss his teeth. Clears his throat. He says your name. Once. Twice. Sighs when you don’t react.

Then he gently places your phone in your lap.

Mom

Missed call (5)

You sniff and wipe your nose clean. You clear your throat and dial her number. Hold your phone to your ear. Sigh softly before you let out a croaky, “hello?”

Yoongi turns his back to you. Sighs loudly as he runs his hands through his hair and tries to process all the information you just dumped on him.

Your mother sounds distressed on the other side of the line. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Sorry, I was in the showe–”

“Stop, stop,” your mom pauses. “You need to get to the hospital right now.”

Your heartbeat stutters in its rhythm. You shoot up from your seat right away. The back of your phone becomes slimy from the amount of sweat your palm has produced.

Goosebumps pop out of the upper layer of your skin. “What? The hospital? What happened?” The turmoil in your soul makes all of your limbs shiver.

Yoongi’s head snaps towards you. Horror is written all over his face. Lips parted in shock and body frozen in a state of panic.

“Just get here. I don’t want you to drive recklessly.”

You reach for your clothes as you tilt your head to your shoulder to keep the phone trapped as you slide your pants onto your legs. “Mom! I’m gonna drive recklessly now anyway! Tell me what happ– Oh, God. Is it Jun? Did something happen? What happ–”

Your mother cuts you off. “Stop it! Just get here.”

“Mom, I swear, you’re gonna tell me what the hell happened to Jun right no–”

A big pair of hands grab you by the shoulders and shake you out of your state of panic. At least they try to. Your eyes shift up, meeting black concerned eyes that are begging you to just listen to your mother for a moment.

The other line goes silent. Just for a few seconds.

“Jun had a seizure.”

To be continued.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

a/n: and i hope everyone that hated on yn feels like a piece of shit😋🩷

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki

[creepling]

odd one out - j. slaughter & l. mckinney / 3k

synopsis: reader has been with her boyfriend leland since college started. they are your cookie-cut couple destined for love. that all comes to the flip-side when reader's friend from back home, johnny, pays a visit.

tags: fem!reader x johnny x leland. smut - MDNI. porn with plot. pining!johnny. cuck!leland. cuckholding. fingering (fem receiving). mild knife play. teasing/mocking. oral (male receiving). masturbation. vogeurism. use of 'girl' as pet name. manhandling/roughplay. fucked dumb. emasculation. possessiveness. doggystyle. mating press. breeding kink. unprotected sex.

“Is someone there?” Leland called into your house, holding your hand and standing in front of you protectively.

You had just returned to your dorm with your long-term boyfriend. The two of you have been inseparable since you met in college. And now, he is trying to protect you from the perpetrator who opened the mini fridge in the kitchen.

“It’s probably just one of my roommates, Leland. It’s cool,” You say, soothing his tense arm.

“Your roommate would have answered by now,” He said, standing guard.

The fridge-raider finally shows themselves, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Johnny – your friend from back home – leans against the door frame with a beer bottle in hand. He points it up in greeting, a sly smirk on his face.

“Johnny– what are you doing here?” You say, forcing a smile through your confusion. He had not said anything about visiting in your letters and didn’t leave a message. It was a surprise.

Leland was not so fond of the surprise visit, loosening his tension but crossing his arms over his chest. He never liked your friend, Johnny. He could tell a mile away he was a sack of shit. Everything about him made his skin crawl and bawl fists with anger. He never subscribed to the idea of him being a good friend for you, yet he also did not want to be one of those controlling boyfriends who tell you who to hang out with. Leland prefers to keep his wits about him when Johnny's around.

“I was in the city, thought I’d stop by,” Johnny leaned in to bring you into a hug, holding in his chuckle as he felt Leland’s eyes burning into his skull.

You hug back, clocking the beer in Johnny’s hand. “Well, it seems like you’ve helped yourself. You want something to eat or-?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Leland interrupted, making Johnny’s head turn. You look at Leland, wondering why his face is so stern, but you nod and excuse yourself. You take Leland to your room and shut the door, waiting to hear what he says in private. 

Leland paces the room, which he does when he’s agitated or stressed. You knew he never got along with Johnny. They’re opposites of each other. Something like this, pulling you aside, will only make the chances of them becoming friends impossible. You wished Leland had trust in Johnny, like he has faith in you.

“Don’t you find this a little odd? Him turning up out of nowhere, without calling or anything? You send letters every week, and he never mentioned coming to the city.” Leland voiced his frustrations, waving his hands in the air.

“Maybe he had to go last minute. He always comes in to fetch things for the yard, so no, Leland, I don’t think it’s weird,” You shrug off.

“He should at least have the decency to call you. How many phone booths are in Austin? Thousands!” He sighs out the tension built in his body, feeling guilty about complaining. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“I know you don’t see eye to eye. Johnny has his ways. He likes surprising me, and I like seeing him. That’s all it is. He didn’t mean to turn up unannounced.” You wrap your arms around Leland’s neck, looking at him with kind eyes.

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” He asked, convinced by your kindness. You always had a way of calming him down.

“The couch will do him just fine,” You giggle, giving Leland a peck on the cheek. Leland leaned down and kissed you, mentally cursing Johnny for sabotaging his alone time with you. He hides his vexation with a soft smile.

Johnny was sitting on the couch when you entered the standard room, smiling at the sight of you. You ask Leland to fetch more beers from the fridge, cosying up on the armchair across from the couch. Leland obliges and opens the fridge door, greeted with the empty sight. “All gone,” he called over.

“Dang, musta had the last one,” Johnny tutted, waving the empty beer bottle.

No shit, Sherlock, Leland thought.

“I can go to the store and get some more?” You suggest.

“No, it’s too late for you to be alone. I’ll go,” Leland said, pulling his jacket back on.

“Such a gentleman,” Johnny remarked, mockingly smiling at Leland, earning a hard stare from the brunette.

Leland went to the store before you could tell him off for glaring. Once Leland was out the door, Johnny looked back over to you, resting his arm along the back of the couch.

“Don’t call him that,” You tell Johnny, smiling at his so-called ‘playfulness’.

“What?” Johnny chuckled, acting dumbfounded.

“A gentleman, it’s patronizing,” You laugh, finding Johnny’s chuckle and charming smile contagious.

“I didn’t mean to offend him in any way, and you know that. I’m happy for ya. A pretty girl got herself a pretty boy,” Johnny badgers on, “a match made in heaven.”

You laugh it off, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, peering out the window for the sight of Leland coming back. Johnny flicks the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, carefully examining your features. You only got more beautiful as you got older, and if your strict family did not make you off-limits to him, he would have had you sooner. You could've been his fine-looking woman instead of that college boy rut getting the privilege to enjoy you. The thought of Leland acting all ‘boy-next-door’ to please your family sickened him. At least Johnny stayed true to who he was. Except Johnny was always the bad boy who was too old for you, a bad influence on you. He would corrupt you and take you down a destructive path. They were right about that, but Johnny cursed his inability to manipulate you. Once you looked back from the window, Johnny relaxed his face and kept his cool, as if the thoughts in his head were nonexistent. 

“How’s college treatin’ ya? You still the brains of the operation?” Johnny asks.

“Oh, y’know, I like it, but there are people here smarter and got more chance,” You shrug. Johnny slowly shook his head in disagreement.

“I mind you being a pretty face with brains. That’s a rarity. There ain’t no one like you,” The compliment made you smile bashfully, your mind not fully accustomed to the philosophy.

You never knew how to reply to Johnny at times since most interactions with him are compliments – flirtation, but he had a good way of hiding it. Maybe that’s why Leland can’t appreciate him. He senses the intentions. To you, it’s all just fun. Johnny could have any girl he pleased and took pride in that. When he flirts with you, you think nothing of it. Johnny wants nothing more than just flirtatious banter.

What you thought wasn’t the truth. To Johnny, you are the girl he wants. The forever girl, the one he wants to settle with. Even killers have wives, the one women they tokenise. How could anyone suspect him if he’s occupied with the Southern bell of Newt? It is his one-way ticket to displaying reformation.

“Yer man’s taking an awful while,” Johnny muttered, tutting.

“The store’s quite a bit away,” You say.

Still, it’s time for Johnny to buy. He watches you stand and excuse yourself to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go change. I won’t be long.” You say.

Johnny timed it in his head, counting the beats of his heart. He slowly rises from the couch and takes off his jacket, slinging it over the sofa. Before entering your bedroom door, he fixes his hair and sucks on his teeth.

*

Leland frowns at the absence of you and Johnny, the bag of beer cans dangling from his fingers. His heart began to race, expecting the worst. His mind convinces him of a better solution as he places the bag on the table and removes his jacket. Johnny’s finally left, and you’re away to bed. That’s all it is.

He heard moans coming from the bedroom, your moans. His heart sank. They got louder as he stood there, taunting him in his fragile state. Rage burrowed within him and began to come to the surface. He stormed to your bedroom door, planning to swing it open and start the confrontation. But his hand trembles as he lingers on the door handle. A lump forms in his throat, and all he can muster is slowly opening the door. The door creaks as he shuffles inside, forcing his eyes to witness the atrocity.

Johnny had you bent over his knee, your clothes hanging by a thread on your body. His fingers were toying with your cunt as you mewled into your hand. Leland eyes are blown out wide, and he balls his hands into fists. Johnny smirks sinisterly.

“Get your hands off-” Leland protested, but he was cut short at the sight of Johnny holding up a knife.

“I guessed you would try that, so I suggest you don’t. Or I’ll cut her up bit by bit,” Johnny threatened, “You like it anyways, don’t ya, darlin’?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat closed, shame shivering over you. Leland fought the urge to scream, tears collecting on his waterline. “Please… just don’t hurt her,”

“This is what we’re gonna do, pretty boy. I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend, and you’re gonna stand there and watch,” Johnny ordered, keeping his knife tight as he ran the blunt end up your spine. You gasp at the cold feeling on your skin. The breathy tones of your moans petrified Leland. Were you enjoying this?

When he sensed Leland would comply, Johnny returned to touching you, collecting your arousal in his fingers as he ran along your glistening slit. You bit your lip, glancing at your boyfriend with lulled eyes. “It’s okay, Leland. I’m okay,” You reassure him, humiliated by his dumbfounded expression. A moan runs from your lips as you feel Johnny enter a finger inside you, slowly pulsing into your warmth.

Johnny never takes it slow, but he wanted Leland to soak up every movement he made. Prolong the experience as much as possible until it breaks him. Leland backed into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. Johnny chuckled at the sight of the boy’s hands shaking.

“She’s real tight,” Johnny drawled, “you must not fuck her enough. If it was me, not even a crowbar could pry me off her,”

Leland shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, wishing he could beat the shit out of him. Nonetheless, he knows better than to get violent. Your life was on the line as Leland carefully watched where Johnny placed his knife. His breath hitched when its sharp end hovered and glazed your skin.

Johnny slid another figure inside you, quickly grabbing your hair with his other hand and pinching his knife between his fingers. His lips lean to your ear, his deep chuckle fogging your concentration.

“Look at him, just standing there, not doing a thing. You really date this pussy?” Johnny taunted. You press your lips into a frown, but your moans are audible, shattering Leland’s ears.

Johnny slips his fingers out, smacks your ass, and orders you to kneel. You comply, gazing at Johnny’s figure towering over you, his hand stroking the bulge in his jeans. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

Thankful your back was turned from Leland, your lustful eyes look to Johnny in awe. In compliance, you nod your head. Johnny unbuckled his jeans, mesmerised by your eyes and forgetting Leland was in the room. Johnny cusps his hand behind your head and reveals his cock, guiding your lulling, drooling mouth towards him.

Leland silently winced, his lips in a grimace. At the sight, but more so of the feeling coursing through him. Gawking at your arched back, your head bobbing, your lips firm and perked on the tip of Johnny’s cock. He yearned to see your face, the way you look up at him when you suck his dick. Going steady with determination – for your nose to graze his snail trail. Leland sighs, hovering his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tighten. That should be him giving pleasure. Johnny captivates you, his cock a few inches bigger than his own, his member filling your mouth until you gag. Leland detects a twitch from his erection, pining for the touch of another.

Johnny changes the mood from across the room, shooting Leland an analytic side-eye. His lips tuck up a smirk at the sight of his hand slightly on his tightening jeans.

“Would you look at that,” Johnny awes mockingly, “Yer man’s starting to like it.”

Leland avoids eye contact with Johnny, focusing on your hushed eyes, trailing down to your craning neck, your movement eager and hungry. Leland unbuckles his jeans, shame overtaking him like a cold sweat.

“Say Leland, you like seeing ya girl sucking good dick?” Johnny taunts further before drawing his attention back to you, readying his hips to buck his cock deeper into your throat.

Leland strokes his cock, collecting his precum and warming the tip, biting his lip. The sounds of your struggle, mixed with greedy drool, send him into a spiral.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl,” Johnny groans, fucking your face into oblivion. Leland suppressed his whines, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking into the warmth of his hand. Sweat drips down his goosebumped neck, and he shivers from the mix of hot and cold sensations. Fear and arousal consume him, the tinge of anger lingering in his manner as he hastily pleasures himself.

Johnny slides his cock slickly out of your mouth. You gasp for air, a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his tip. It drips on the floor as Johnny motions you to the bed vigorously, prompting your knees at the edge of the bed, pressing your cheek against his as his hand grips your neck. His manhandling sends a shiver down your spine. He whispers flattery into your ear, anticipating the warmth of your pussy, massaging your breasts and pressing his dick between your ass cheeks.

Knife tossed to one side, Johnny reigns your hips with his callous hands, the immersive size of his fingers squeezing your tender skin. His dick teases your entrance, motioning your hips to beckon him inside you. Leland attempts to suppress his pathetic moans as you beg Johnny to fuck you. Please. Please.

Johnny curses under his breath, the lustrous power controlling his instincts and satisfying him like a drug. His obsession transfers into his body as he clings onto you, pushing his cock slowly into your slick cunt, sighing in satisfaction at your breathy moans.

You perk your hips to adjust to Johnny’s size. He was bigger than Leland, his girth acting as pressure against your firm walls, encouraging the pulse of your heat to welcome him. “Johnny,” You whine, “Fuuuuuck.”

Leland could cry on the spot. Forced to succumb to the pleasure you felt from another and clouded with a carnal giddiness, gratification drowning your thoughts. He was a fly on the wall, sensing your love and passion poisoned by primitive arousal. His primal instincts conflicted with him. His heart now shattered, but his cock twitched, and he touched himself with more robustness. 

“That’s it, take it all in,” Johnny sinisterly encouraged. He advanced against your firmness, burrowing his cock deep inside you, finding your sweet spot as you gasped in satisfaction. His eyes-lids droop at the feeling of you tightening around him, your cunt salivating in anticipation. Johnny bucks his hips and graduates into thrusts. His breath hitched as he picked up the pace.

You surprised yourself when your stomach fluttered at the animalistic nature of Johnny’s technique. Your knees buckled under his muscular frame, your hands gripping the sheets. Johnny takes his strong arms to hold up your fragile weight, pressing you against his chest. Whines pour off your lips as he smacks your ass and bites your neck. You thought about telling him to slow down, but the majority outvoted it – you didn’t want him to stop.

Passion and sweetness were absent as Leland leaned harder onto the wall, unbuttoning his shirt as sweat dripped down him. His abs glistening and absent of your touch, he spits on his hand and wraps the moisture around his aching cock, wishing for warmth. Leland observes Johnny’s thick arms entangling your body – all those nights of passionate lovemaking gone to waste. If he knew you liked it like this, he would have given you what you wanted and acted on the dreams he wished were reality. Now, he witnesses the result of his procrastination and watches Johnny fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could.

Johnny’s stamina does not come close to faltering. His pace is consistent and rigid. He only slows down when he feels the build-up in his stomach, stalking his climax to prolong the moment he has manifested for so long. “You know how long I spent thinking about you?” Johnny husked into your ear, “About fucking you, having you as mine? It’s been too damn long. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this.”

You whine as Johnny’s cock slips out of you, but he quickly turns you around and pins you down on the bed. His hands manhandle your thighs, pinning them down as his eyes hunger on your pulsing cunt. He latches his mouth on your plump lips, and your tongue welcomes his, letting the roughness of his tongue explore your mouth. His mass towers over you as his cock aligns with your entrance. Johnny enters you again with another deep thrust, his length more profound than before. It causes you to yelp, his tip kissing your hymen.

“Not used to a dick this big, darlin’?” Johnny teased, smirking against your lips. His dark eyes pour into yours, and you get caught in a trance. You let his stare overtake your vision, moans bubbling in your throat as he propels deeper into you. 

“You’re mine now. After getting fucked this good, you’ll never wanna see Loverboy again. Ain’t that right?” Johnny growled, his hands gripping your thighs. The reality of his words pierced through your cock-hungry mind. You glance over at Leland, biting your lip at the sight of him pleasuring himself. His eyes locked on yours, his groans audible as you whine as Johnny’s cock pummels into you. As Leland was close to climax, he squeezed his eyes shut, breaking contact. You look back at Johnny. His gaze fixated on your bouncing breasts before staring back at you.

“I wanna come inside you so bad,” Johnny’s words escaped. You look down at his cock fucking into you, your high rising. Johnny’s affirmation wanders in your mind before you moan in defeat, pleading it to be reality.

“Come inside me,” You squeak, your mind overstimulated and hasty. “Fuck. Please, Johnny.”

Aroused by your words, Johnny plunges your pussy, picking up the pace and gripping your neck. His forehead pressed against yours, and your shaking breaths harmonise with the vibration of his growls. The muscles tensing in his neck and the flex of his arms are enough to let your body surrender to him and prepare for his seed.

“‘M gonna fuck my cum into this little pussy. That’ll be enough to make ya mine, eh darlin’?” Johnny mumbles into your ear. You grow lightheaded as his harsh drills bring you to your climax, your bottom lip and legs quivering simultaneously.

“That’s it, girl. Come all over my dick. I’m so close, baby. So close,” Johnny grunts, “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make ya mine.”

Strings of hot seed fill your insides, and Johnny gasps and growls into your neck, his teeth scraping down your flesh. From the corner of your eye, you witness Leland moan and finish in his hands, his cum pathetically dripping off his knuckles and onto the hardwood floor. It was no match to Johnny’s broad frame pressing against you, his scent mistifying your senses. His dick slowly slips out of your sensitive walls, basking at the rutting sight of you with a smirk.

He had fucked you dumb, and the lust in your eyes was enough to beckon a second round. As Johnny tried to catch his breath, he glanced at Leland in his submissive state. He was now sitting on the floor, looking sadly at his mess. Johnny couldn’t paint a better picture if he could, and he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

“Don’t think she’ll want you after that, pretty boy,” Johnny mocked, laughing at Leland’s defeat. “She’s better off with me, anyways. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to show her a good time – but you already know that.”

[angel-of-the-moons]

It’s found family central up in here I’m loving it. Hobie who’s readers lovable dumbass step in adult child almost. Accidentally called them ‘mum’ once, neither him nor reader mention it (simply just out of not wanting to embarrass him or because reader doesn’t want to push him away without meaning to). But reader’s always there for him in the little ways

Hobie: Hey y/n what’re your plans tonight? Mine are trying to fix the fucking roof of my boat because it’s fuckin’ rainin AGAIN and it’s COLD

Reader: Oh I’m just gonna light some candles, make some stew and have a little wine and get cozy under a blanket :)

Hobie: …..Can I come over plea-

Reader: Yes you may come over I already have some spare pyjamas for you and some of your favourites orange sweets. I knew you were gonna ask, honey ☺️

Awwwwe 🥺

That One Mum-Friend

Platonic!Hobie x Mom Figure!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, mostly a short fluff drabble

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

You were only a few years older (at most) than your peers. Hell, a bit younger in some of the cases (cough cough Peter B cough cough), but everyone knew you.

You were the mom friend. The chaperone, the babysitter.

But you couldn't help it, your motherly nature was just so deep into your personality that the two could not be separated. It kind of was the reason why you didn't have many friends outside the Society, most people deemed you too "overbearing" or y'know. Motherly. You'd step in before any "fun" or crazy stuff happened.

You were there to console the others when something happened, when someone was upset, or hell, was just lonely. You were there for them when they needed that gentle hand, or a hug, or a nap in your lap.

Your balanced nature was often why Miguel would pair you with Hobie, or Ben Reilly, to bring them a bit of stability (and to stop Ben from lamenting about his backstory or talking about his muscles for five minutes).

On one mission in particular, Hobie had actually slipped up, and in front of Ben, Peter, and Pavitr and Gwen, he called you "Mum" over the comms. He quickly sputtered and tried to backpedal, but the grin that erupted on your face had already fixed itself there.

You pretended you didn't hear it however, that you weren't paying attention to your comm.

Ben and the others? Never. Let. Him live. It down.

They even gave Hobie things to give to you on Mother's Day for extra effect.

But today? Today, Hobie showed up in your universe, soaked to the bone, his wicks soggy and shoes filled with water.

"Got stuck in the rain, lost the key to my flat, and I don't feel like crashing at HQ because of the Old Man. Can I--"

You chuckled and stepped aside, "Come on, Hobie. You look like a drowned poodle."

"Oi, you havin' a dig at my wicks?" He frowned, walking past you and into your warm, cozy apartment.

"Yep!" You grin, walking over to your linen closet and grabbing some towels, handing them to him.

"Go into the bathroom and get dried off, I might have some clothes that'll fit you. Pajamas at any rate." You hum, walking into your room to rummage through your dressers for something that might fit his tall, lithe frame.

He mumbled a thanks and trudges into the bathroom, his shoes making a depressingly loud squishing noise with every step.

You giggle to yourself and pull out some red plaid pajama pants, and one of your oversized novelty t-shirts.

They should fit.

You knock on the bathroom door and Hobie pokes his head out. He takes the clothes from you when you hand them to him and quickly ducks back to change.

And when he comes out you practically squee.

"Awww! You look so cozy!" You snicker.

"Ohhhhh stuff it." Hobie mumbles, dropping onto your couch and crossing his arms, towel still draped over his head.

"Now Hobie..." You tsk, draping your fluffy, heated blanket over his shoulders, which he automatically snuggles into on sheer instinct alone.

"Is that any way to talk to your mum?"

"Oi! It was one time!" Hobie retorted, trying to cover the blush rising in his cheeks.

"Leave off it, will ya?!"

You grin and grab a tin of sweets, and grab his hand, placing them in his palm.

His eyes get big. His favorite candies; he found them once in your universe, got hooked, and apparently yours was the only one that had them.

You had a shit-eating grin on your face as he popped the candies in his mouth.

"Nahhhh. I'm not gonna. Not when you look like a little kid all snuggled up under that fluffy blanket."

"Hey! Who d'you think you are, eh?" He said, trying to sound miffed, but failing as the warmth from the blanket seeps into his cold body, relaxing into the soft cushions of your couch.

"Oh, me?" You hum, grabbing his wet clothes to be washed.

"I'm the Spider-Mom. Didn't you know that?"

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 26

Summary: After being married, Negan decides to take Y/N to a place they visited once when they were younger to give her a honeymoon which brings back old memories.

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

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Some Smut, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/135889690

Notes: I have several chapters of this still planned. I know I took a very long break from this one and I'm sorry, but I'm doing my best to finish the stories that I still have opened. I want to make sure to finish them all. Thanks to anyone that might still read this one!

“Do you really think it’s safe leaving the kids with strangers?” Y/N inquired while her and Negan walked through the woods to an area that Negan insisted they get out of the car to walk to. The sound of Negan not walking far behind her was heard and it made her swallow down hard. “I know that you trust these people, but after hearing the way some of them talk to you I’m not sure that they are the safest people for the children to be around.”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing, okay?” Negan snickered from behind her, pushing aside some of the brush that was in front of him while he followed her. “I know some of my men are questionable, but I know who to put my faith in when it comes to the children. I wouldn’t put their lives on the line, I promise you.”

“I want to believe you, but with your past…” she looked over her shoulder at Negan hearing him let out a grumble that showed his displeasure over the fact she was still holding the past over his head. “It takes a lot to regain my trust Negan. I’m not who I used to be.”

“You trusted me enough to marry me,” Negan reminded her, moving in beside her to pinch her bottom causing a yelp to fall from her throat. An amused snicker fell deep from within him and it made her roll her eyes. “I think if you were worried, we wouldn’t be here going away for our so-called honeymoon. You probably would have killed me.”

“I came close a few times,” she pointed out and he let out an amused rumble. “It’s just been hard for me to be away from the children. Since this whole thing started, I’ve never really been apart from them.”

“Exactly, which is why you need this break,” Negan hushed her, his arm hooking loosely around her waist while he led her in closer to him. “For years, all you ever wanted was to be married to me. Now you are and we’re going to do it right. Well, as right as you possibly can in a world like this.”

“Oh, so you’re going to divorce the women that are your other wives?” she blurt out and it was followed by another rumble of a growl. “That’s what I thought.”

“The only real wife that I have is you and you know that,” Negan pushed further, his arm tightening around her in a possessive grasp. “I think we just need to focus on how we’re actually together now. Married. Like a real couple. The way it should have been a long time ago.”

“Mhmm,” she stopped moving, reaching for his hand to pull him to face her. A long exhale fell from her lips while she stared up at him. Palming down over the side of his face, she drew him to her and shook her head slowly. “You know how much I love you Negan. How much I’ve always loved you.”

“Of course I do,” Negan whispered, his thumb drawing lines over the side of her face. “You know I love you too. Very much. And once you came back into my life I decided that I was going to stop wasting fucking time. I’m gonna focus on being a good dad to my children. Nathan and Evie are gonna know what it’s like to have a good father in their life. You’re going to know what it’s like to be pampered the way you are meant to be.”

Tipping up on her toes, Y/N met Negan in a faint kiss that made him hum against her flesh. Stroking his fingers over the side of her face, Negan pulled back ever so slightly and his hazel eyes were locked on hers. There was always something in the way that Negan looked at her that took her breath away. She hated it, but also loved it at the same time.

“I love you,” Negan slurred, leaning in to skim his lips in over hers drawing her to close her eyes tightly. Warmth flooded her veins when he finally claimed her lips in a heated kiss. His right hand palmed in over her bottom and she huffed out. “What?”

“Are you ever going to tell me where you are taking me? Are we almost there or…?” she braced her hand over the center of his chest, purring out when he nibbled at her bottom lip. “Negan.”

“We’re almost there, here…” Negan reached for her hand leading her through the woods, looking back at her with an amused expression. “I wanna see if you remember this place…”

“What do you mean?” she smirked knowing that they had been walking for a while toward an area that felt uphill. When he pushed aside one of the bushes, she let out an amused sound when she saw the group of tiny cabins that sat at the top of a hill that overlooked a large body of water. “God, not this place.”

“So you remember this place?” Negan felt her pulling her hand from his when she moved toward the center of the camp to gaze around. “I thought maybe you would forget it.”

“How could I forget this place? Sure things are overgrown, but I would never forget this place,” she let out something that resembled a giggle and Negan smiled brightly, shoving his hands into his pockets while she looked around. Pointing to one of the cabins, she looked back at Negan and saw him nod. “It was the first year that we were dating. You wanted to go on a road trip with no plans. Just hit the road and see where we ended up. So we got on your motorcycle and just started off in whatever direction I picked.”

“And not far into the trip you started getting handsy so we pulled off here and decided to break into one of these cabins,” Negan added to the conversation hearing her let out an amused sound. “We both agreed these things were ridiculously small, but they were good enough for what we needed which was to just have sex. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other…”

“And we didn’t close the door the first time and there was that deer,” she recalled making Negan huff out when she turned to face him.

“The deer was a pervert that just wanted to spy on us,” Negan walked across the gravel toward her when she moved up the steps to the cabin that they had snuck in together almost fourteen years ago. “I still think that deer wanted a piece of me.”

“You would,” she noted looking into the windows of the cabin to let out a sigh. “We ended up just staying the night after you chased the deer off. I remember late into the night you thought it was the deer coming back and you ran out buck ass naked…” her laughter grew louder making Negan’s face flush over with warmth. “And it was a group of campers that were actually staying here coming back from their hike…”

“Thank God they were all college kids,” Negan snorted finding amusement in the fact that she still found what happened back then so funny. “College kids that understood our situation and let us continue to stay the night in our cabin.”

“I told you to put some pants on when you went to chase the thing off, but you were so…I don’t even think I know the word,” she recalled their past, pushing open the door to see that there was a small mattress set up in the tiny cabin along with a few things and she gazed back at him over her shoulder. “This was your idea for our honeymoon?”

“Listen, we always wanted to go and be by the water, but we were so focused on screwing around that we never got the chance. I thought you might enjoy the memory,” Negan reasoned with her, leaning against the doorframe when she moved into the small cabin. “I had the boys clean up the place and make sure that it was livable for us for the night. I thought maybe we could go for a walk by the water and then…”

“Have sex?” she suggested and it was followed by Negan letting out a thick rumble of laughter. “I assume that’s what you were looking for here?”

“Well,” Negan stepped forward, cornering her inside of the cabin. His breath was hot over her lips while his hazel eyes ate her alive with his stare. “I originally thought I would be romantic with everything. Go for a walk by the water hand in hand. Talk about things. Then maybe we would come back here, have a small dinner, make some smores and then afterwards I thought the two of us could get comfortable with one another and I would make love to you inside of the cabin,” Negan informed her drawing her breathing to get caught in her throat when he pressed his body in against hers. “But, if you want…I’d have no problem getting you on your knees to have you suck on my big cock before I feast on your beautiful, wet pussy. Then we can have sex on the beach. Grab one of the towels, take our clothes off and lay out on the sand. We can go as fast or as slow as you please. We can have sex all day if that’s what you desire. As long as you give me a few breaks to hydrate myself and allow the big guy some time to recuperate. I can have your pussy full and dripping with my cum by the end of the night if that’s what you want.”

“Jesus Negan,” she gasped when he curled his fingers underneath her thigh to pull it up and over his hip. Heat flooded her face and she felt her heart hammering inside of her chest. “Why do I suddenly feel like that girl at the bar all over again wanting you to deliver on everything you just said?”

“Because I still turn you on,” Negan’s nose nuzzled hers, his palm snaking between the two of them to caress over her most intimate parts. Tipping up, she brought their lips together and Negan’s tongue flicked out against hers. Their breathing grew louder when they started pawing at one another touching the other. “My cock is so fucking hard already.”

Dropping her hands, she fumbled with his belt and pulled apart his pants working to tug them open. Finding trouble at first in getting the zipper down, she didn’t hesitate to push down his pants and his boxer briefs when she undid the material. Almost immediately his cock sprung free from the cotton prison it was behind and her palm wrapped around his girthy length.

“Good girl,” Negan complimented her, his forehead pressing to hers while she jerked him off. Grunting, Negan watched her lowering down to her knees like he had suggested earlier. Pressing his left hand against the wall, he used the right to hook his fingers into her hair while she pressed wet kisses against the shaft. Closing his eyes, he bit down on his bottom lip as her lips wrapped around the tip. Moaning out, he enjoyed the way that her tongue lapped at the sensitive tip while she took her time bobbing her head over the length of him. The damp warmth of her mouth around him felt incredible. Even after this many years, he could never get sick of sexual acts with her. She knew exactly what to do in order to please him and it was exciting every time. “So good.”

The wet sounds her mouth made over him was turning him on even more with his hips bucking up toward the back of her throat. Her caress worked over his length as well and he was very verbal with her about everything. Praising her consistently. He knew that she loved that.

“Fuck,” Negan moaned out, falling forward when she deep throated him. Wincing out, it didn’t take much for him to be coming down her throat and having her swallowing down every drop of his release. When she pulled back, she wiped at her bottom lip and collected the taste of him before sucking at her fingertips. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Forcing her to him, he kissed her with everything that he had, tasting himself against her and groaning out against her flesh. Working open her pants, Negan was eager to get them from her body hearing her gasping when she almost fell over with his strength. Dropping down to his knees, Negan reached for her left leg and threw it in over his shoulder to give himself some space. Gasping out, she dug her fingers into his shoulders to brace herself when he peppered wet, hot kisses over the inside of her thigh. Once his mouth centered in over her core, he could feel her fingers sinking into his hair and clinging tightly to it.

Eagerly pleasuring her, Negan did what he knew she loved using his tongue and fingers in unison. It had her grasping at the wall with her free hand to try to brace herself. From the caresses of his tongue, the slurping and kissing over her most sensitive parts, it had her panting out his name and he loved every second of it. When she hit her first orgasm, he didn’t stop what he was doing. No, he wanted her not regretting a moment of agreeing to marry him after everything. Plunging his fingers into her, he caressed over her g-spot while his tongue and lips worked perfectly in unison over her clitoris.

“Negan,” she cried out his name when she came again and he let out an amused rumble when he lazily pulled his mouth away from her, bringing his fingers up to his lips to suck over them with a proud expression. “You’re something else.”

“I know,” Negan placed another small kiss over the inside of her thigh and carefully placed her leg back down. Standing up, he pressed his body to hers and smirked down at her. “Let’s go fuck by the water.”

“And what if a walker shows up?” she muttered against his lips hearing him snicker and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ll bring our lunch, our weapons and if a walker shows up while I’m balls deep inside of you, then we will deal with it,” Negan’s nose wrinkled when she rolled her eyes and pushed into the center of his chest. “How are your legs? Do you need me to carry you down there? They were kind of shaking up a storm.”

“My legs will work,” she answered working her pants back over her body. At first, she didn’t think they would genuinely do exactly what he said, but they did. Negan led her to the beach, laid out a towel and lowered her down on top of it after undressing her. They had sex on top of the towel that was much more passionate than she would have imagined it would have been, but afterwards when he was laying in over her, she found herself caressing at the back of his neck. With their bodies tangled together and the warmth of him over her, she closed her eyes and let out a long exhale. “It’s moments like this where the world actually feels normal again.”

“With my dick going soft inside of you,” Negan teased against the side of her neck. Letting out a disgusted breath had him snickering against her flesh. “I’m fucking with you baby.”

“You’re always going to be Negan,” she sank her fingers further into his damp, dark hair. Pressing a kiss to his temple had his head lifting and the weak smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat. “I mean when we are alone like this. Out on a beach with no one here. It reminds me of when we were younger without a care in the world.”

“Well we can make this world as normal as we can,” Negan grabbed her hand that had her ring on it. Peppering faint kisses over the back of it had her smiling. It made him happy to know that she could find happiness with him again after everything. “We’re starting slowly, but over time we can start building this world together.”

“This was all I ever wanted,” she reminded him with Negan’s thumb sweeping in over the ring that she was wearing. “To be married to you. To have you look at me the way you are.”

“I know,” Negan acknowledged with a hesitant smile, lowering his head to press his forehead to hers. “And now we get to spend the rest of our lives together working on the relationship that we should have been having this whole time.”

There was a silence that filled the air between them when Negan sighed. Pulling his hips back had both of them letting out muted moans before Negan laid in beside her. Having her cuddling in closer to his chest had his arm immediately wrapping around her to hold her tightly to him.

“I was thinking,” Negan began, licking at his lips when he lowered his head down to cuddle his chin in over the top of her head. “Mostly about our family. I want to work on building our family back up. I want to be a good father and a good husband. I think we can make this whole thing work together. Maybe when things get settled down the line, we can actually try adding to our family again. So I can do things right from the start. I fucked up so bad when you were pregnant with Evie and then with Nathan…”

“I don’t think we should have more,” she interrupted Negan, a sincerity in her eyes when she expressed how she felt about things. “Evie was hard, but nothing can describe just how hard it was having Nathan. I love that boy and I’m so thankful to have both of them in my life, but doing everything on my own was just too hard. With the way the world is right now Negan, we’re just lucky to have the two that we do have.”

“I know that,” Negan stressed, his brow line furrowing in frustration. Y/N’s fingers were stroking through the dark curls of hair that was over his chest showing that she wasn’t mad at him, just stressing her feelings to him on the subject. “I just want another chance to do things right.”

“You have a chance to make things right,” she reminded him, her fingers tracing up over the side of Negan’s face drawing his hazel eyes to her. A lump developed in Negan’s throat when those words hit him hard. “Having a new baby isn’t going to make things right. Focusing on your relationship with your son and daughter will. You have everything you could ever want and more in both Evie and Nathan. A boy and a girl. A little girl that loves you more than anything and would do absolutely anything for you. I think the real testament to your love and your hope for change is how hard you work on building your relationship with the two of them. What you do to make things right for them.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving my children, I just don’t think adding one more to the family would be a bad thing,” Negan suggested, his thumb sweeping in over her jawline to admire her with the way she was looking at him. “We make good looking babies and that’s something the world needs. More babies to fill it that aren’t totally ugly.”

“Nice sell honey,” she rolled her eyes, tapping playfully at his chest. Laying her head back down over his chest, she listened to the sturdy sounds of his heart beating and sighed. “We have so much to work on, I think that just needs to be a thought very far out in the future.”

“Well, you never know how much time you have with someone,” Negan countered, his tone shaken when he thought about his time with Lucille and how long they had been apart. “The world has always chose when the two of us should have a child, so I guess I’m going to leave it in mother nature’s hands.”

“You do that,” she replied with a hesitant smile, her lips pressing faint kisses over his chest again. “I don’t want to raise a baby in that place Negan. It’s hard enough thinking about how we are going to raise Evie and Nathan there.”

“The Sanctuary?” Negan responded, his face scrunching up in confusion when she nodded. “It’s safe there Y/N. We have food, crops, protection…”

“Enemies, nowhere to raise a family except for your bedroom, no real places for them to play and people who despise you,” she stopped him before he could continue to sell what a good place it was for their children to grow up in. Bracing herself over his chest, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Part of me wishes that you come to your senses and you decide that you’re ready to give up this life. That you just want to be a dad and a husband.”

“I do want to be a dad and a husband,” Negan countered, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he defended himself. “That’s all I want right now. To be with you and the kids. To continue working on my family so we can be happy.”

“It’s not going to happen at The Sanctuary Negan,” she declared, a sense of sadness flooding her features when she continued. “The best thing for your children would be for you to step down and move to the farm. We have everything there. Protection that you could enhance. Food that you are capable of growing. A home. A real home for the children to grow up.”

“You know that I can’t do that,” Negan frowned feeling the guilt that was eating away at him with her lecturing him about the farm again. “I know that you think that life is capable…”

“It is,” she interrupted him, her hand lifting up to stop him from going off any further. “You quit. You move to the farm and you be the family man that you insist you want to be. It’s that simple.”

“And I explained to you, it’s not that simple. I have people that count on me. I’m the leader of this group and if I walk away from it, I’m letting everyone down. People will die because of me leaving,” Negan pushed once more and he could tell that she wasn’t buying the story that he was selling. “I keep a balance there. I keep harmony between all of them because if I was gone, it would be a fucking disaster there.”

“You are in the middle of a war with another community that is hell bent on killing you,” she reminded Negan making his lips part. He went to say something, but he just huffed and made it clear by his lack of eye contact that she was right. “The people there, they hate you. Some might hero worship you, but mostly they are scared of you. I love you for the man that I know you to be, but the Negan that is in charge of that community? It’s the darkest parts of you I didn’t want to remember you for. Staying at The Sanctuary is just going to give your children a hostile environment to grow up in. It’s never going to be fully safe there Negan. You know that just as much as I do. I think you know that leaving and going to the farm is the best place for you. For all of us.”

“I can’t Y/N,” Negan whispered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “This is the one thing I built on my own. Maybe I don’t run it the way that I should, but through the years we were separated I learned really fast that being the good guy leads you to nothing but pain. All the good guy does is die. I don’t think I’m bad, but I don’t think I’m good either. I just do what I have to in order to keep people alive.”

“You know there was a day when that farmhouse was your dream,” she brought back their past and it had the color draining from Negan’s features. “That’s why I bought that house. It was everything you ever wanted. You wanted animals, a place where we could just have a family and be together. It was never my dream, it was yours.”

“I know,” he asserted, his hazel eyes tearing over when she looked upon him with such high expectations. “You’re right.”

“Then why are you so against that life?” she wondered, but he didn’t have an answer for her. In fact, it just made him uncomfortable and kind of emotional. “I love you, so fucking much. That’s why I agreed to marry you. That’s why I agreed to all of this crazy shit. Because beyond all doubt in this world, I know that my heart completely belongs to you. But right now, you are picking to be this character over your own family. You’re trying to balance the two, but you’re not. We’re secondary in your life Negan. And this Sanctuary Negan is going to continue to rule over the dreams you really had in your life. Not these false dreams that this world created for you.”

“I can’t be the man that I wanted to be when I was in my twenties Y/N,” Negan stated with a frown, his head shaking slowly. “Yeah. More than anything I wanted to be a dad. That was the thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted to be happy and I wanted to have a big family. That farmhouse was never achievable for me.”

“It was,” she shook her head with a scoff. “And it still is.”

“The world will not let me be the man that I always wanted when I was younger,” Negan repeated, his hands reaching up to cup her face in them tenderly. “I’ve done things. Things that I can’t take back and…”

“But you can run away from that life Negan,” she pushed, her eyes tearing over when she stared down at him with physical pain at the idea of what he was saying. “I know that you like feeling important. I know that you like having the power. Power feels good. But in the eyes of your children? You’re the most important person in the world. You are their hero. You’re their silly, amazing father that loves them. What more in the world could you possibly want?”

Parting his lips to say something, Negan huffed out with his bottom lip trembling and he was actually getting really emotional, “You have your second chance Negan and the world is holding it out for you. It’s giving you your second chance. It’s just waiting for you to take it. Because you have two beautiful children and a woman that loves you. A woman that has always loved you. A woman that has put you above her time and time again because all she ever wanted was to make you happy. A woman that just wishes that for once…” in that moment her words stopped and he saw that she pushed up to sit down on the towel. Slowly lifting up, Negan looked to her and saw that she was trying to hide that she was getting emotional herself. “A woman that wishes for once you would choose her. That choosing her over your own ego is what you really want.”

“I did choose you,” Negan curled his finger in underneath her chin to get her to look at him. His breath hitched when he saw the tears that were sliding down her face. “That’s why we are married Y/N. I chose you.”

“I just want to be enough for once Negan,” she informed him, a whimper falling from her parted lips. “You always told me that I was perfect. And god I hated hearing it. Because there was always that but that followed. You’re perfect Y/N. You’re just not perfect for me…”

“That was the past,” Negan reasoned with her and she let out a hesitant laugh. “I was so blinded by my own stupidity to see how things really were.”

“Negan, The Sanctuary is your Lucille now,” she spoke quietly, her jawline flexing when his hand lowered. Hearing that was like a kick to the gut. “You’re picking The Sanctuary over me. Over your children. And once again, I’m perfect, but I’m not perfect enough to give up this life for. I gave up all of my dreams for you Negan. Every single one of them. All I’m asking you to do is to finally take the dream you wanted from the start. The one you begged me for twelve to eleven years ago. Be a father. Move to the farm. Forget this life. You got to be powerful. You got to experience it. If you really, genuinely love me…be the family man you always wanted to be. Become that farmer. Take care of the crops and the animals. Cowboy Negan was always a very good look for you.”

“Shit,” Negan scoffed lowering his head down and letting out an upset breath. When she laid that out on the table before him like that, things really started to make sense to what she was saying. Stroking at the back of his neck, Negan shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Fine. Yeah. You’re one hundred percent right.”

“About what?” she was curious seeing him wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand drawing attention to just how beautiful his hazel eyes truly were.

“That I need to give that place up. I have my family back,” Negan answered admitting to her that she was finally right. “I have my wife and my children back in my life and that farm was my dreamhouse. Which I’m fully capable of having now. I’ll move my men out. I will grab the things I want and we can go there. Be together. Live our life there and be happy.”

“Come on,” she sighed feeling like it was just something he was saying at this point. “You can’t say things that you don’t plan to follow up on Negan. I’ve known you for fifteen plus years.”

“Then look at me,” Negan demanded, reaching for her to get her to lock gazes with him again. “I promise you, when we get home I will let everyone know that I’m done. They can pick amongst themselves who they want to be their leader and I will take you along with the kids to the farm. We can be happy together. Like we always should have been. We’ll be out within the week.”

“Tell me you’re being serious,” she begged of him and Negan nodded his head.

“I’m very serious. You’re absolutely right. For too long you’ve been living your life for me. It’s time I finally lived the life I always stressed that I wanted,” Negan declared with a simple shrug of his shoulders feeling his chest aching. For so long she was in pain because of him and he knew that. “You are perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect for the children and I just want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how perfect you really are. I can’t do that at The Sanctuary. I swear to you with everything that I am. I fucking mean it.”

An amused rumble of laughter fell from his throat when she leapt forward into his arms knocking him back into the sand. Holding her close, Negan laughed and nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck. He couldn’t remember a time that she was happy like this because of him making the right decision for once.

“I love you more than anything,” Negan admitted, his words vibrating against her flesh after he pressed kisses against her lips. There was something in the way she looked at him that took his breath away. “You’re everything to me. You and those kids. I’m not going to fuck it up this time.”

“Thank you Negan,” she breathed out, her forehead pressing to his while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I have an idea,” Negan whispered, squeezing her tightly in his arms. “It’s time I picked you for once. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

----

It was late into the morning and by now Negan should have been on his way back with Y/N to The Sanctuary, but he couldn’t find it in himself to move. Yesterday they had spent more time on the beach together before finding their way back to the cabin. Inside of it, they had shared memories and just talked for a while before falling back into one another again. Y/N had fallen asleep easily last night in his arms, but Negan didn’t get much sleep if any at all. Instead he just held her in his arms and watched her sleep. Everything she said the night before was true and he knew it was time for him to finally step up to be the man he always promised he wanted to be.

The sun was shining in through the small window, hitting them just enough from where they were laying together on the tiny mattress they were stretched out on together. Being someone that was a full-time father and farmer he knew they wouldn’t get as many chances to have these wild, crazy sex nights together. At The Sanctuary, he had people to watch over the children, but now he had to be one hundred percent dad. Even though he enjoyed moments like that, he was willing to finally take on that role. Honestly? Negan had never really been a fulltime dad. Not since Evie was born. Even though he was always on backup, Negan was a fulltime dad two weeks a month for seven years. Then the world fell to shit and Lucille got sick. That’s when he gave up being a dad completely. And that was the biggest mistake he felt like he ever made in his life.

Picking solely Lucille and throwing away his daughter was a stupid mistake chosen out of fear. So many days he wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t. Now he finally had the chance to make things right. For Evie. For Nathan. For Y/N and finally himself. Most of his nights had been fueled by nightmares since he lost Evie. Now he had the chance to live the life he always wanted. He should have taken it from the start, but now he was finally seeing just how important it actually was for him to take this step.

“You have the prettiest eyelashes I’ve ever seen,” Y/N’s voice was quiet while she shifted over his chest from where she had been sleeping. Gazing down, Negan saw that behind her tired eyes, she was staring out at him. “I was always drawn to your eyes and your smile.”

“I think little man has the eyelashes too,” Negan noted, stretching his body out finally when he knew that she was fully awake. All night he had tried to stay still because he was afraid of waking her up. “I think he’s going to be a charmer when he’s older. Winning the hearts of whoever he sets his sights on.”

“He has taken on a lot of your physical traits,” she agreed with Negan, a tiny smile pulling at her fatigued features. “Nathan has your looks. Evie has certainly got your personality.”

“I’d like to think they were an equal mix of both of us,” Negan gave her a wink, squeezing her in closer to his body with a snicker.

“Being at the farm will give me time to work on things with Evie too,” she admitted, her fingers stroking over the center of Negan’s chest. “For years our relationship has been terrible. She’s hated me for something I couldn’t control. Hopefully, with us being a family again and being at the farm we can finally make things right.”

“I thought things have been getting better,” Negan suggested, his eyes narrowing when he thought back on his discussions with Evie to be better to her mother. “I’ve heard her tell you that she loves you.”

“Yeah, but hopefully this can help heal our daughter’s heart,” she whispered, pressing a faint kiss over Negan’s shoulder. “She’s become someone I hardly know over the last few years. She used to be the happiest, smiley little girl. Whether she was with you or me. I always knew you were her favorite, but she loved me a lot too. Maybe we can finally get back to that at the farm. So I can spend more time trying to be a good mother to her. Focusing on her.”

“You’ve been an extremely good mother to her,” Negan stressed, his fingers sweeping in underneath her chin to get her to look up at him. Sadness remained from her talking about their daughter and Negan shook his head. “You kept our children safe. You made sure that they were always well kept and alive. Protected. You’re an amazing mother Y/N and I promise you, Evie is going to see that one day soon. And then everything will be back to normal.”

“I hope so,” she sighed, cuddling her head in against the center of Negan’s chest. “We should probably get ready to go, huh?”

“Eh,” Negan scoffed, his nose wrinkling in discomfort. “Let’s just wait a little while longer. This is the last time we can really fuck off as parents. Let’s take our time together and then slowly make our way back. I want to focus on the time I have with you for a little while.”

“So you want to have sex again?” she inquired, her eyebrow arching in amusement. Placing his free hand over the center of his chest, Negan shook his head. “Fine, I’ll just get dressed…”

Watching her crawling away made Negan huff when he swiftly moved in over her, pinning her down face first on the small bed that was beneath her. With a giggle, she felt Negan’s lips kissing down over the side of her neck and she purred out, “that’s what I thought.”

“You flash your ass at me, what am I supposed to do?” Negan wondered turning her onto her back to get her to look up at him with her arms hooking around his shoulders. “I am a man after all. My dick is already hard in the morning and then you go flashing your ass at me.”

“You’re a dork,” she snickered with Negan’s lips covering hers. Each kiss grew in intensity having her gasp out when Negan adjusted her legs to have them wrap around his waist. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Negan breathed out, nibbling at her bottom lip eliciting a purr from her. “You don’t want this?”

“I want this,” she assured him, stroking her fingers down over the side of his neck taking her time to stare up at him. “Can you just drag it out for me? As much as I like sex, I’m just kind of hoping for something where I feel loved. Where it feels like you are making love to me.”

“I have absolutely zero problems with that,” Negan whispered behind loving and passionate kisses.

And he gave her exactly what she asked of him. It was slow and unhurried. There was lots of touching, praises and careful movements. What she asked for, he delivered and afterwards they just laid together for a little while longer before starting to pack up with things.

“I think I’m going to steal a stash of the candy, coffee and the ice cream before we leave The Sanctuary,” Negan announced while they gathered their things and started heading back toward the car that Negan had parked down at the bottom of the mountain.

“Maybe some seeds for planting might be good too,” she suggested moving in beside him and making him yelp out when he felt her pinching his ass. It made him smile though that she was open to being that way with him.

“The hands woman!” Negan was loud and silly when he swatted her hand away from him. Once they had everything packed up back inside of the car, Negan reached for her hand to pull her in against his chest. “I love you. So fucking much. You know that.”

“Hmmm…I don’t know,” she whispered, she tipped up on her toes wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him in closer to her. “Maybe you should say it again so I can think harder about it.”

“I fucking love you,” Negan slurred against her lips pulling her in closer to him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered against his mouth, humming when they pulled away. “I always will.”

“Good,” Negan teased with a wrinkle of his nose. Palming down over her back, Negan’s palms squeezed at her bottom before peppering a few final kisses over her lips. “We need to start back on our drive. But just know, this is a day I won’t soon forget.”

“Nor will I baby,” she agreed with a wink following Negan to the car where he opened the door for her to get in. Taking the seat, she watched Negan almost skip to the other side where he got in himself. The smile on his face was contagious. And it made her happy to see. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this happy for me.”

“I could say the very same thing about you,” Negan muttered, his fingers reaching out to sweep in over the side of her face. “I’m just glad that I’ve been lucky enough for you to give me so many chances Y/N. I never deserved them, but you never gave up on me. You were the one person that never did.”

Instead of saying something, she led him to her again to kiss him. It took his breath away and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. There was a need deep inside of his veins to show her all the love in the world. And he hoped that she felt it. Especially after everything he put her through. He wanted to spend the rest of his life trying to prove it too. And that started with finally giving up The Sanctuary to focus solely on his family.

On the drive back, they would have silly discussions since it was quite a distance for them. Just to keep each other focused. When they weren’t super far away from The Sanctuary though, Negan had noticed a small town that they hadn’t searched before.

“Why don’t we go search to see if there is something good?” she suggested, pointing in the direction of it. “It’s a town right off the water. There might be some good supplies there. We can find something for the farm and snag it before other people find it?”

“Shit,” Negan stopped the car, gazing over at her with a huff when he realized she was right. “I probably could just have them run out tomorrow and go search for things honey. That way it’s back at The Sanctuary before we actually leave.”

“I don’t mind Negan,” she offered seeing that he was actually considering his options. “It gives us more time together for our honeymoon.”

“Fine,” Negan grumbled under his breath, turning the car around so they could head back toward the city. Driving through it, Negan made sure that it seemed pretty much abandoned before parking on the main street in the small town. “There is no one here which makes me think it’s probably picked over babe.”

“Or we can just be lucky,” she eagerly got out of the car and stretched. Grabbing his weapon and Lucille, Negan was quick to follow after her as they made their way up main street looking over the stores that were there. “I remember when we went to places like this all the time when I had my days off. Your favorite place to eat was always that seafood restaurant.”

“I do love a good lobster roll,” Negan sighed thinking about the past when she used to pamper him. “God, I’d kill for one of those. They had the best biscuits, lobster rolls and soup. I probably could have eaten there every day if I wasn’t poor as fuck. I miss that shit.”

“If you get a few lobsters before we leave, we can try to recreate the recipe,” she suggested looking back over her shoulder at him with a simple shrug. “We aren’t that far away from the coast, right? I’m sure we can get someone to find some.”

“True,” Negan agreed with her, noticing the way that she was eyeing over the storefronts as they would pass them. “Do you remember when I was a deadbeat and I would make dinner for us all the time when you were at work?”

“Sure,” she smirked at the thought of him calling himself a deadbeat. “I remember Lucille telling me that when you lost your job at the school you became an even better cook.”

“Right,” Negan’s expression became somewhat serious when she brought up two negatives from his past. Lucille and losing his job at the school. “I was going to say that when I was living with Lucille, we didn’t get lobster a lot because we didn’t always have the funds, but there was one point where I made these two really incredible versions. I did the Maine style and the Connecticut style. I think I was on the verge of getting it just right.”

“You should have became a chef,” she commented, finding herself surprised when Negan’s fingers hooked with hers attempting his best to hold her hand. “I know you loved your sports, but you always loved cooking. I would have supported you.”

“You always took care of me Y/N,” Negan reminded her, stopping her enough to get her to look out at him. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers through her hair and sighed. “The sad thing is, I do believe if I told you I want to be a fucking chef, you would have opened a restaurant for me.”

“I would have done anything for you,” she breathed out, her eyes hooked on his and it made him let out a long exhale.

“I never doubted that,” Negan alerted her with a sigh leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “I probably would have been so much happier if I did become a chef.”

“Probably not,” she teased him, tipping her head back to stare into his hazel eyes. “The first time someone complained you would probably come out and dump the food over their heads before kicking their ass. I’d be bailing you out of jail all the time.”

“Touché,” Negan snickered, nuzzling his nose in against hers before something caught his attention in the corner. “From where we are I see a grocery store, a toy store and a bar. Let’s go hit up all three.”

“Sounds like a date we would have had when we were younger,” she suggested with a weak smile causing Negan’s nose to wrinkle. Keeping his fingers tightly around Lucille, he grabbed a hold of her hand and led her first toward the grocery store. The glass on the doors were shattered and she didn’t have a lot of faith that there would be much of anything after all this time. Tugging at the doors that were held together by a chain, Negan made enough room for her to get between them before following her in. Inside shelves were pushed over, broken glass covered the floor and there was a flickering light coming from the back of the store. “I’m going to guess this is a no go.”

“We’ll still look,” Negan hushed her, motioning her to wait. Tapping Lucille against the floor several times, Negan waited to see if he could draw out any of the walkers. When nothing happened, he looked back at her with a shrug. Grabbing a cart, Negan reached for it and pointed toward the basket. “Get in.”

“You must be joking,” her nose wrinkled looking down at the cart and he huffed.

“Have some fun,” Negan snickered, holding his hand out to help her into the cart after she rolled her eyes. Like he usually could, he convinced her to do what he wanted in getting into the shopping cart. Putting Lucille into the cart with her, Negan started rolling the cart throughout the store observing what was left on the shelves. “We used to fuck around a lot when we were younger.”

“In what fashion?” she tipped her head back and he smirked. “We got in some trouble in the first year together.”

“We did,” Negan snickered stopping in one aisle when he saw some cans sitting on the shelves. Reaching for the first few he wiggled them about causing her nose to wrinkle since it was sardines. Tossing it into the cart with her, Negan grabbed a few of the other cans that were left there knowing that it was things that were just picked over, but it didn’t hurt to have non-perishables. “I just meant we would do silly things like this. I remember when I did this with you that one time we ended up getting kicked out of that store.”

“Rightfully so, we were being stupid,” she reminded him with a hesitant laugh, “you were racing up and down the aisles like a maniac.”

“But you had fun,” Negan grumbled under his breath grabbing a firm hold of the handle starting to push the cart down the lanes quickly like he had done when they were younger. It had her grasping tightly to the sides of the cart with every sharp turn he took. Hearing her laughter made him smile figuring that she was reminiscing about their past and just having fun being silly.

“Negan!” she squealed out when one half of the cart went up on its side but he managed to catch it, slamming it down onto the ground. “You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that.”

“I’ve got you. You’re safe with me,” Negan assured her, pressing down to steal a quick kiss from her lips. Being more careful, they went through every lane and grabbed the things that were still left before he took her into the back. As soon as the door opened, Negan heard her let out an uncomfortable sound when they saw the long-decomposed corpse of someone that had hung themselves. “Well fuck.”

After some silence, Negan cleared his throat and moved around the body, “He probably had a stash in here somewhere if someone didn’t steal it already.”

“Negan,” she frowned noticing that Negan didn’t have a care in the world that there was a body hanging before them. Managing to work her way out of the cart, she was careful in the way she moved when she observed the body. “I don’t see any marks on him.”

“Some people just couldn’t handle the stress of things Y/N,” Negan let out an excited breath after pushing through some of the bags to see that there was one hidden with a bunch of supplies. Lifting the bag up, he moved in beside her to show her what he had. “Jackpot. Looks like they have some guns, food and tools.”

“Don’t you feel bad taking his things?” she pushed hearing Negan scoff when he set the bag down in the shopping cart.

“Why? He’s not using it,” Negan suggested moving around the back of the store. There were a few sleeping bags in there so he was surprised this was the only body they actually found. “You know Y/N, I learned to stop caring about people a long time ago. When you care about people it’s only going to get you killed.”

“You care about me,” she reminded him and Negan scoffed.

“That’s different,” Negan countered with a quick tip of his head.

Gasping out, Negan tugged at one of the bags knocking over one of the shelves. It had both of them jumping when a hidden area was revealed behind one of the walls. Clearing his throat, Negan’s eyes narrowed when he realized what was being hidden. Y/N went to step forward and Negan immediately shook his head, “Don’t.”

“What is it?” she of course couldn’t listen to him and moved in beside Negan to see what looked like three walkers that were fading away almost completely. Two of them looked like children and the other was a woman. “Jesus.”

“Come here,” Negan pulled her back toward him noticing the sadness that flooded her features. “You can’t let things like this bother you Y/N. They aren’t people anymore.”

“They were babies Negan,” she felt her throat going dry assuming that the body they found hanging was likely the father and the husband of the bodies that were almost completely fading away. “It bothers me to see what has happened to so many children.”

“It happened to most of the world,” Negan hooked his arms around her, pulling her into a tight squeeze. “Instead of being upset about people we never knew, you have to focus on the fact that all four of us are still here.”

With a nod, Y/N forced herself to look away and Negan urged her out away after doing another quick scope of what was left. There was a door they could get out of easier in the back. Taking the things back to the car, Negan packed them up and then led her toward the bar. When the doors were locked, Negan grumbled to himself and managed to break one of the windows. Crawling in, he motioned her to wait and then pulled the tables away from the door so she could get in. Once she was, Negan pushed the tables back and instructed her to wait for him while he checked the kitchen. And he was glad he had her stay where she was because there were multiple sets of bones in the freezer. Around the bar he was able to find some alcohol bottles and some bags of flour that hadn’t been used. After he was done setting them aside, he could see that Y/N was standing behind the bar and it made him smile.

“Does this bring back old memories for you?” Negan slid his hands across the bar top and stopped before her. Tapping his hands against the top of it, Negan bobbed his head about and she snickered. “I bet every time you came to a bar you thought about our first time together.”

“I did,” she agreed with him, looking behind the bar and her eyes fell upon a bottle of whiskey that was left there. Picking it up, she set it on top of the bar and watched him smile. “Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed being a bartender. I was good at it. And for the most part, it was always nice learning things about people. Sometimes it felt like people just came here to have someone to talk to because they had no one.”

“You want a drink?” Negan grabbed a hold of the bottle wiping it off with his white t-shirt. Managing to get it open, he smelled the alcohol inside before taking a long swig of it. Hissing out, he tipped his head to the side and sighed. Extending his hand out, he saw her eyeing over the bottle before accepting it. Considering her first sip, she shrugged her shoulders before taking a long drink of it as well.

“Do you remember when we first started dating? You used to come to the bar every night after that guy tried attacking me. You would just take the corner table at the start of my shift and you would stay until I left,” she pointed toward the back corner of the bar they were in and he smirked when she brought up their past. “I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. This incredibly handsome stranger saves me from getting hurt. He’s so good looking, charming, he’s good at sex and he’s well equipped,” she rambled off causing Negan’s nose to wrinkle and he snickered. “And he wants to keep me safe. I couldn’t believe that someone would ever be dumb enough to dump him. Sure, he may have been going through a rough time, but he was…perfect.”

Negan’s jawline flexed when she looked down toward the bar top and sighed, “I don’t know if you remember, but you used to draw all the time while you were waiting. I would come over and you’d have all these little things drawn out on bar napkins and you’d write me these notes.”

“I was always drawing back then. I used to think Evie started drawing because I was always doodling,” Negan noted, setting the bottle down and reaching out to stroke his hand in over Y/N’s. “What about it though?”

“I kept all of those,” she admitted with a weak smile, her head shaking when she let out a long sigh. “I used to always put them in my top drawer when I got home. I think I had even put them in a booklet at one point. It’s at our old house somewhere. Probably in my closet if it wasn’t stolen. There were two I always kept with me though. It was the ones where you would draw us as cartoon characters. The first one you ever drew me…and…”

“And?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in curiosity when her lips parted and she let out a tremoring breath.

“There was one you drew when I was pregnant of what was supposed to be us at our wedding. It was us at our wedding holding the baby. It was really cute. I still have them in the nightstand beside the bed at the farm if your men haven’t destroyed it. I had a few pictures in there too,” she declared with a long sigh grabbing the bottle to drink more than he expected her to.

“You really kept those?” Negan wondered, his throat tensing up when she nodded after setting it down. “They were just meant to be silly little things. I thought you would throw them away.”

“I was head over heels in love with you,” she reminded him grabbing the bottle before moving around the bar to go over toward the corner of the seating area to sit on the floor. Moving in beside her, Negan slowly lowered down and could tell that she was upset thinking about things. “You know, originally our four-month ultrasound was supposed to be a week later. You were just so excited that when they had an opening and called me, I took it.”

“Why are you doing this?” Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat when he noticed that she was getting upset again about their past. “You have to stop hurting yourself over our past.”

“You don’t ever think about how things would have been if we didn’t take that appointment that day?” Y/N inquired with Negan’s features growing sad. Tipping her head to the side, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Of course you don’t. It gave you back Lucille, so why would you never want it to happen?”

“It gave you Lucille too,” Negan countered reaching for the bottle when he thought she was drinking too much of it. “And you loved Lucille too.”

“I love Lucille. Her dying didn’t stop me from loving her,” she corrected Negan, a shuddering breath falling from her throat. “A lot of my life I considered the what ifs. Like what if I would have taken that later appointment? We could have found out about our little girl. You would have been happy. You would have missed Lucille completely. We would have gotten married. Maybe we would have been living happily in that farm all along.”

“Or maybe I would have been bitten while working at the school,” Negan reasoned with her noticing the tears that were in her eyes. “I can’t even begin to apologize enough to you for our past. I fucked up. I fucked up so fucking bad. I know that. But it happened and we can’t change what happened. What matters is that we are together now. You always wanted to be married to me. Now you are. We have two beautiful children and by the end of the week we will be living at the farm together. You’re going to get everything you ever wanted in life. Everything I ever wanted in life. You have to think about that stuff and not the past.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she apologized with Negan grabbing a hold of the bottle of alcohol to drink a hefty amount from it.

“Here I was thinking about the two of us absolutely plowing each other in the bar nightly. Whether it was the first night or every night after when you would close up. We had so much fun,” Negan recalled with a hiss when he lowered the bottle from his lips. “I had so many of the best memories from those nights. We figured out so many different ways to have sex in a bar…”

A loud sigh was heard and he noticed the way that Y/N was staring out at him from the things that he remembered, “What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head letting out a long sigh. An uncomfortable laugh fell from her throat and Negan felt a warmth flooding into his face. “That’s really your best memories with us? The two of us fucking in the bar? I’m talking about the things you did that made me feel happy and safe. And all you can think about is us fucking?”

“I get in a bar Y/N and my dick gets hard thinking about it,” Negan answered with a simple shrug of his shoulders. Pointing down toward the center of his pants, Negan scoffed and let out a long exhale. “I was kind of hoping that we could have another round. Relive the past a bit. That’s why I picked a bar in the first place.”

“Of course you did,” she stole the bottle from him and stood up from the floor to pace.

“What’s wrong with me wanting to bend you over the bar and fuck you?” Negan questioned, his brow line furrowing when he let out a grunt as he tried pulling himself up. “It’s our honeymoon so to speak. I don’t see a problem with it. We like fucking each other. Our first time was in a bar and a significant part to the beginning of our life was fucking in a bar. So yes, I get in a bar and I think about fucking you which are pretty incredible moments.”

“I was searching for some of your favorite moments that you spent with me. Instead you responded with sex which is what I always thought our relationship was anyways. It would have been nice hearing some good memories that weren’t sex related,” she rolled her eyes, heading for the back when she heard Negan call out to her.

“The first night you let me sleep in your bed with you, I never felt more wanted in my entire life. I was never a hero. In fact, in my life I never felt as good as I did when I saved you that night. I’m not a hero Y/N. We both know that, but never in my life could I ever top that moment. I remember you were laying in my arms and I thought about how much I loved you. How much I wanted to keep you safe. I still remember the way you looked sleeping on my chest that night,” Negan rambled out, drawing her to walk back into the room with him when he approached her. “The day we got Darwin together is one of my absolute favorites. I close my eyes and I can still picture what it was like. His ears were so damn big and he was so fucking small. We would play with him in the backyard and he would trip over his ears. One of my favorites was when we moved in to that home after being in your apartment. I remember carrying you over the threshold thinking about how in that moment, it felt like everything was right in the world. Or the night you told me about being pregnant. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

Negan was getting emotional when he threw his hands up in the air, “Even if it wasn’t special for you, the day that Evie was born. I remember sitting in bed beside you, holding that little girl in my arms and nothing ever topped that feeling again. That happy, fucking through the roof feeling to know that we created something so fucking beautiful. Something so fucking perfect.”

Holding his hands out like he was holding onto a baby, Negan huffed out and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not much of a romantic Y/N. We both know that. We both know I’m an asshole. We both know I say the dumbest shit. My mouth runs before my brain even considers what it’s doing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not head over heels in love with you. My favorite nights were those times we would just sit on the couch together watching old episodes of the Twilight Zone. So please, if I’m being fucking horny don’t think all I care about is sex because I really fucking love you. And I’m doing my best. I’m just a dick that is trying his best. I have a lot to work on, but I’m trying. And hopefully moving to the farm will help push that along.”

A shuddering breath fell from Y/N’s parted lips when he wiggled his fingers at her, “So why don’t you set that bottle of alcohol down and come here so I can kiss the shit outta you.”

“You have a way with words, don’t you?” she rolled her eyes, setting the bottle of alcohol down on top of the bar. Heading across the small bar, she felt Negan’s arms wrapping around her when he lowered down to capture her lips in an extended, passionate kiss that had her wrapping her arms around his shoulders. When they finally did part, Negan nuzzled his nose in against hers. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” he agreed with her, an arrogant smile tugging at his features when he started to pepper faint kisses over her lips. Sliding his hands down in over her bottom had her letting out an uneven breath. “I’m going to guess bar sex is out of the question now?”

“Will it make you happy?” she frowned with him considering her question before nodding. “Then fine. I would do anything to make you happy.”

----

Tags:@slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @neganswoman @ravenrose18 @xojdmasf

[intoxicated-chan]

Hey so I was wondering if you could do an Valeria x f reader where the reader goes to infiltrate the cartel instead of soap and the reader gets like scared and starts tearing up a lil bit yk?

Anyways thanks if you do it 🫶

Learn and Convince Me

♡o。.✿ฺ Paring // Valeria Garza x F!141!Reader

♡o。.✿ฺ Summary // With the rest of the men being too military, you went instead but what you hoped would be a walk in a park became a fear for your life.

♡o。.✿ฺ (A/n) // Thanks for requesting! Sorry for the errors in the Spanish translations… Yes I did use google translate, please don’t look at me like that. I decided to make this a bit longer since I feel like there wasn’t enough Valeria in it. I hope this is all to your liking and hope you enjoy it!

♡o。.✿ฺ Word Count // 3k

♡o。.✿ฺ Content Warnings // Female reader, violence, murder, profanity, blood, guns, drugs, death, horrible flirting, pet names (cariño, crybaby?), incorrect medical stuff…

“I’ll do it.”

Why the hell did you do it? Like Ghost said, make your presence known and show that you mean no harm. Like it was so easy for him… You peer from the car, with no radio in your ear and no weapon, fear became known when the guard caught sight of you. They shouted, guns aimed. One marched over and dragged you forward and pushed you down to your knees.

“¡¿Quien diablos eres tú?!” (Who the hell are you?!) Feeling the barrel of his gun pushing into your head, and arms held high.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n).” You spoke, not even attempting to look up from the ground, “I have information that El Sin Nombre would like to hear, I can tell him who attacked them.” One guard stepped aside, speaking into his comms.

“Stand up.” He ordered.

Even with your pace, the other grabbed your arms while the other threw a bag over your head and roughly pushed you forward. You were lucky not to fall on your feet, but you continued your way blindly into the mansion of one of El Sin Nombre’s members.

You could hear whispers of others in the mansion, some in Spanish and some in english. All eyes were on you as two guards held their grip on you, leading you to the elevator. You were too focused on memorizing the path that the two left you alone and another was waiting for you.

Suddenly the bag was pulled off your head and you were faced with a man, “You’re alive.” Alejandro spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You let out a sigh of relief, “Alejandro, thank god it’s you.”

“Listen…” He comes in closer, “Give them good intel, American PMCs, the Shadow Company, Mexican Special Forces, everything.”

“Even you?”

The elevator doors open before he can speak, Alejandro steps to the side to which you are greeted with a new face, Diego, “¿Es esta ella?” (Is this her?) The man asks Alejandro who nods, “¿Cómo se llama ella?” (What is her name?)

“...(Y/n).” You answer.

Diego laughs at the tone of your voice, “¿Trajiste una perra tímida?” (You brought a shy bitch?) It was difficult to tell if he was angry or not. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt, “Listen here.” His breath reeks, he smells of gunpowder and men’s body spray, “You give me some good information or I’ll let my boys finally have some fun.” He laughs in your face, finally letting go of your shirt, “Get the fuck out of my elevator.”

Another man pushes you out of the elevator, seeing it close on Alejandro, “This is my house. That means you don’t meet the boss until I say so. You don’t speak unless spoken to. Y lo mas importante (And the most important thing) tell the who fucking truth.” Diego is brought to a halt when one of his men is sniffing cocaine, you don’t need to watch what’s gonna happen, all you need is the sound of Diego’s fist coming into contact with the man, and his shoe stomping on his face.

You open your eyes before Diego can see, “Las Almas is at war. You want to win? Don’t disobey.” The guard following you pushes you again, “That is how the organization survives, and that is why the boss is here tonight.” Diego brings you to a door.

“El Sin Nombre is here?”

“Heh, no... Sin Nombre’s personal sicaria is.” Diego opens the door as he and you enter the room. A woman and another guard with three soldiers tied to their chairs, one is struggling against the bag tied over his head, the other is alive and not harmed, but the third…

“Valeria, il y en a une de plus.” (Valeria, there’s one more.) Diego walks down the steps, leaving you standing there, “A gringa.” He stands next to Valeria who eyes you carefully.

“Come…” Valeria pushes the dead soldier off the chair, “Take a seat.” You’re slow to move down the steps, shaking, “We don’t bite, that’s unless you tell us something we don’t want to hear.” She warns, giving you a push of encouragement.

You sit in the chair, anxiety feeling your stomach as well as worry, was it the right choice to offer yourself up so quickly?

“¿Quién es?” (Who’s this?) Valeria asks Diego.

“Su nombre es (Y/n). Ella vino a nosotros.” (Her name is (Y/n). She came to us.)

Valeria walks behind Diego, “¿En serio? ¿Y la dejaste entrar?” (Really? And you let her in?)

“Ella dijo que tiene información-” (She said she has information-)

Valeria kicks Diego behind and brings him to his knees, then she takes her knife and holds it close to Diego’s face, “¡No la conocemos y ha visto caras!” (We don’t know her and she’s seen our faces!)

“Valeria, necesitamos la información. Ella podría ayudarnos.” (Valeria, we need the intel. She could help us.)

Valeria drags her knife across Diego’s face, “Ella debería o después de que la mate, estarás en la silla.” (She should, or after I kill her, you’ll be in the chair.)

Valeria releases Diego, who gets up and rubs his throat. Valeria unholsters her pistol and walks up to you. With a happy and kind smile spread across her face, she pats your leg when she comes in close.

“¡Niños y niñas! (Boys and girls!) This is simple. I ask questions. You answer truthfully. Do not lie to me.” knowing she meant Nunez, “Recently someone attacked us up in the mountains while we were protecting a friend... Who?” Now looking at Nunez.

Nunez shakes under her glare, “Era un caos... yo no-” (It was chaos… I didn’t-)He stammers before Valeria angrily cuts him off.

“¡En inglés!” (In english!) You could’ve swore you saw him jump the second he heard her shout.

“I-I think it was the Rivals Cartel.” Nunez finally comes up with his answer.

Valeria cocks her head to the side, then turns to you, “Your turn, cariño. Who attacked us?”

You feel your hands start to sweat, feeling your heart beat rapidly, “It… It wasn’t cartel.”

“Then who was it?” Valeria asks, coming in closer.

“...I-It was-” Suddenly you’re pistol whipped.

“¡¿Podrías responder más lenta?!” (Could you answer any slower?!) Valeria growls growing frustrated, “Who attacked us? Or do I need to beat the answer out of you?”

Your vision went hazy for a second before focusing. Your head sting, letting out a hiss which made Valeria more irritated.

She again pistol whips you, “Answer me!”

“Valeria!” Diego shouts, “We need her alive.”

You hear her scoff as a warm feeling falls down your face and onto your lap. You’re beginning to bleed, “I’ll ask one more time, who attacked us?”

“It was Mexican Special Forces.” You finally speak, giving her a satisfying answer. She backs off and you let out a soft groan.

“We found the bodies… Fuerzas Especiales.” She smirks. She now looks back at Nunez, “Now, how would an outsider know they were Mexican Special Forces and not you?”

“M-Maybe she was there!” Nunez said.

“Tú también estabas allí, imbécil. Tal vez ella también…” (You were there, asshole. Maybe she was too…) Diego offered Valeria another question.

“Were you there?” Valeria asks, her grip tightening around her pistol.

“I-I was.” You spoke before she could even lift her arm threateningly.

“Looks like you’re learning.” Valeria comments, “So then, there were outsiders helping the Mexican Special Forces… Who were they?” Asking another.

“W-We heard them yelling, some in English. They were with the-”

“Enough.” Valeria ordered, “Your turn.” Now looking at you, again her grip tightens on her pistol.

“Shadow Company, private military companies.” You tell her, feeling more of your blood.

Valeria takes a few steps back and confers with Diego, “Los vaqueros están trabajando con mercenarios…” (Los Vaqueros are working with Mercenaries…)

“Esas malditas serpientes.” (Those damn snakes.)

“¡¿Verás?! ¡Yo tenía razón!” (You see?! I was right!)

Valeria scoffs and comes back to her original place, “Can you even prove this ‘Shadow Company’ even exists?” She asks Nunez whose face shows fear.

“H-How can I prove this…?”

She turns to you, “What about you cariño? What proof do you have?” Again ready to whip you.

“My pocket. Left.” You feel her left hand pull the patch out of your pocket.

Valeria hums, observing the insignia, “How did you get this cariño? Come on.”

“Off one of the dead Shadow.” You lie.

“I’ve told you before that I do not like lying.” Valeria hands the insignia to Diego, she comes in closer than she was before, “I’ll give you one more chance, who?” You feel the cold serrated steel against your neck, slowly pressing into your skin, burning…

“I-It was given to me!”

Valeria sighs loudly, dramatically, “You were doing so good.” Shaking her head, pulling the knife back. But she doesn’t move, still too close, “Now, who leads this Shadow Company? Give me a name.”

“Phillip Graves.”

“And is he the one who gave you the proof?”

“...Yes.”

Valeria moves back, “See? That wasn’t that hard.”

“Fill Graves… Me gustan.” (Fill Graves. I like that.) Diego smirks.

“This man… Graves… What does he want?”

“He wants the Iranian you’re protecting, Hassan.”

“¿Cómo sabes eso?” (How do you know that?) Diego asks, getting in Valeria’s way and now the one in your face, “Answer me! How the fuck do you know?!”

You choked on your words, trying to come up with a reason that’ll not blow your cover. But you couldn’t find any, you shook under his glare, his voice scared the ever lasting shit out of you.

Diego is pushed back, “¡Bastardo! No te atrevas a interponerte en mi camino.” (Bastard! Don’t you dare get in my way.) Valeria warns him, she then looks at you, “But like he said, how do you know?” Valeria spoke in a more softer tone but you knew the venom behind it as she was filled with it.

“I-I… um…” You couldn’t say it, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t risk blowing not only your cover but Alejandro who was still somewhere in the penthouse. Your eyes begin to water as you panic, “I…”

“What? You what?” Valeria asks, “Don’t you lie.” She warns.

You’re tearing up and now head hanging low, you say, “...I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You don’t respond but you shake your head, refusing to answer. Valeria grabs your hair and pulls your head up, she sees you beginning to tear up, “Oh, now you’re gonna cry? Like a little crybaby.” She growls, she releases your hair, “Go on, cry!”

“¡No puedes confiar en ella, no puedes! ¡Te lo estoy diciendo!” (You can’t trust her, you can’t! I'm telling you!) Nunez shouts.

“¡No nos ha dicho nada!” (You haven’t told us anything!) Valeria retorts, looking at Diego.

“Te pagamos bien, y este llorón sabe más que tú.” (We pay you well, and this crybaby knows more than you.) Diego comes around as Valeria holsters her pistol.

“Es hora de matar a este inútil hijo de puta.” (It’s time to kill this worthless son of a bitch.)

“Con mucho gusto Valeria.” (With pleasure, Valeria.)

Nunez is next to beg and begin to cry, sobbing on his words, he shuts his eyes as he could hear the sound of Diego’s gun before the sound of the gun going off makes you jolt and turn away. Diego comes back to Valeria’s side who is just staring at you.

“Mira a este llorón.” (Look at this crybaby.) Valeria snickers with Diego, “But I do love the ones that cry.” She comes back again, taking your chin into her hand, titling your head to look at her, “I’ll let it slide… For now.”

Again, Valeria unsheathes her knife, and cuts on the zip tie off, “You’re bleeding all over the place, get this llorona fixed up, I’ll have your head if she dies.” Valeria walks out of the room.

“To be clear we are not done with you.” As you walk towards the open door, you take one final glimpse at Nunez’s body, “¡Vamos, llorona! (Come on, crybaby!) We don’t have all day.”

You follow back into the elevator with Diego and you see Valeria waiting, you’re pushed again inside. You feel cornered, maybe because you are cornered, feeling so small and helpless…

It wasn’t long before Diego’s inside, swiping his keycard on the sensor before pushing the three buttons on the elevator wall, “Los Vaqueros se están moviendo rápido.” (Los Vaqueros are moving fast.)

“When can I talk to him?” You ask, quickly regretting your choice of words.

“Valeria is going to speak with the boss, now. You will wait with the others.” Diego tells you.

“I have a feeling El Sin Nombre will be very interested in talking to you.” The elevator doors open to outside where another guard is there waiting, “Fix her up and keep a close eye on her, I have a feeling she’ll try something.” Valeria orders.

“Sí, señora.” (Yes, ma’am.) The guard has a tight grip on your arm, pushing you up against the glass, ready to pat you down.

Alejandro appears, “Lo tengo. Te necesitan afuera.” (I got it. They need you outside.)

“Bueno. Dale una máscara y obsérvala. Haz algo con el sangrado también.” (Okay. Give her a mask and watch her. Do something with the bleeding too.)

Alejandro begins to pat you down until the guard is no longer in view, “¿Qué mierda te hicieron? (What the fuck did they do to you?) He brings you into one of the bathrooms, sitting you down on the toilet.

“Valeria. Pistol. Head.”

“She pistol whipped you?”

“Two times.”

“Two times?”

“Or was it three?”

“Fuck.” Alejandro curses, “Ghost, we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“(Y/n) my have a concussion, and it looks like a bad one.” Alejandro holds your arm to keep you upright.

“Bloody hell, they must have a good arm. Soap get in there.”

“What about (Y/n)?”

“I’ll leave (Y/n) here, you’ll be taking her place.” Soap appears suddenly, nearly scaring Alejandro.

“El Sin Nombre is on the third floor.”

“We’ll be back.” Alejandro hands you a pistol, “Let’s go Soap.” Handing the mask to Soap, “Comms are hooked in.”

“We’ll need a keycard.”

“Diego has it.” You tell them.

“Just don’t sleep.” Soap warns before following Alejandro out and turning off the lights. You hid from view and from the door, anyone could walk in and that’s what scared you the most. Your head felt heavy and your eyes were ready to shut, it was a struggle to stay awake in a quiet environment.

But you were jolted awake by shouting outside, “¡¿Dónde diablos está ella?!” (Where the hell is she?!) It wasn’t just any guard, Diego… He was marching through the halls of his penthouse looking for you.

“¡Se suponía que debías vigilarla!” (You were supposed to watch her!)

“¡Me dijeron que me necesitabas afuera y cuando regresé ya no estaba!” (They told me you need me outside and when I came back it was gone!) The guard tried explaining, obviously scared.

“¡¿Qué tan estúpido eres?!” (How stupid are you?!)

His voice became louder and louder, and stopped at the bathroom you were in, “¡Lo siento señor! Te prometo que la encontraré.” (I’m sorry sir! I promise I will find her.)

“Será mejor porque él te despellejará vivo.” (You better because he'll skin you alive.) The doors are slammed open, scanning through the room. Did you forget to say that you shoved yourself into the cabinet under the sink, a tiny movement would make a sound but your pistol was aimed right at the doors.

“Señor, Valeria lo está buscando.” (Sir, Valeria is looking for you.)

“Bueno.” (Alright.) He walks away with the guard.

The instant relief washed over and you quickly relaxed, but your eyes were too heavy to stop them from closing on you. All you heard was you dropping your pistol and a thud of your head lightly hitting the cabinet, falling asleep.

“How’s the damage?”

“She received a head injury which caused the bleeding and considering she was hit twice, there was no internal bleeding, only external. We have her hooked up to an IV and she may receive additional transfusions later. I recommend that she physically and mentally rest to recover.”

“For how long?”

“At least two days, limit activities that require thinking and mental concentration.”

“That means she’ll be put on bed rest?”

“Yes.”

How many hours passed since that conversation you overheard. You sneaked out of your room late at night and headed towards one of the buildings, where you found a shipment container. Slowly you opened the door and found Valeria leaned up against the wall.

“I see you’re still walking.”

“And you’re still talking.”

“When I say I’m surprised, I am. I didn’t think you had the nerve to sneak into the penthouse and lie to me. It explains everything.” Valeria now stands.

“Then you understand how I was able to get the insignia for the Shadow Company. I offered myself to get in and Graves gave me the proof I needed.”

“Come on, cariño. Talking to me like I’m a criminal.”

You scoff, “Because you are a criminal, hoarding a terrorist while a narco. You think it’s good for business and I say you are just digging your own grave.”

“You dug yours the second you stepped foot on my grounds.” Valeria gets in your face, “This isn’t what’s good for you cariño. I know it, Alejandro knows it, hell I think that gringo knows it too.”

“I can’t wait to watch you burn.”

“You’ll be burning with me, cariño.” Valeria laughs, “We’ll burn the world together, I can be very convincing.”

“...Then convince me, I don’t have all night.”

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[itsnothingofinterest]

A part of me is still feeling like nah there’s no way he just died, horikoshi is gonna do the same death fakeout again and something is gonna bring him back like a rewind or something.

I mean I want to think the same, really I do. I've normally been all for the most wild theories, provided the most wild theories, on how Tomura would be brought back. Nary an apperence made where I wouldn't come up with some improbable way he'd break free of AFO and turn around his latest misfortune. And here especially, it feels like he needs too because this conclusion for him is just terrible. But as it stands, his situation isn’t looking good.

Rewind looked spent just getting Deku’s arms back, Regen wasn’t working even before Tomura’s body got turned to dust, AFO says he stripped the missing half of the Overhaul quirk away to make Decay & I’m not sure if that allows it to grow back, and there's just not a lot of other ways to imagine he could comeback from his already crumbling-body getting obliterated by Deku's day-saving fist.

Granted, people have been throwing around enough theories that some do sound convincing or possible. After all, why would Hori set up Decay as being a messed-with Overhaul if that wasn't going to come into play? What was the point of Kurogiri coming to save him if he just got blown up (and would he really have Bakugou just murder him)? In fact I'd like to highlight one theory in particular that's stuck with me by @thesustainedworldatransverse which suggests that Rewind might be the mutated missing half of Decay (since the tragic circumstances of Eri's quirk awakening were identical to Tenko's tragic circumstances and we now know that tragedy was BS). Thus Deku, carrying the last sparks of Rewind directly from her horn in the very fists he just punches into Shigaraki's heart, would bring them into contact to fuse back together and allow Tomura to reconstruct himself. A part of me knows that's probably not super likely to happen...but would it not be super fucking clever if it did? It's 2 "the things were similar for a reason" reveals and another "small detail had huge ramifications" reveal one after another; Horikoshi loves those.

But ways to bring Tomura back aside, the biggest hurdle is thinking Hori would even want to bring him back. Despite my critique of him extending this arc with an unnecessary extra climax he didn't have the energy to land, he does seem very burnt out. And as much as some of us may disagree, scene direction certainly suggests he wanted last chapter to just look like the day was saved so…hmm. Maybe it could be a fake out to shock readers and get MHA trending before he walks it back next chapter? He has done that before on multiple occasions. But for now, who can say?

[averagewriter777]

Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Masterlist

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

(Part Twenty-One)

You decided to make breakfast as a way to calm yourself down. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles a second, and there were way too many running in your head now. Not even the Exedrin migraine pills you took could help you in this case.

Nothing in your fridge was ever expired. Just in case you ever came home, Mary and James were kind enough to keep everything stocked. Especially whenever they came over on Sundays for football games. So, you had everything you needed to make some pancakes with bacon.

While bringing everything out that you needed, you were humming to some old rock music. Since your head still hurt and people were asleep in the house, you refrained from connecting Bluetooth to your regular phone, which was stashed in one of the kitchen drawers.

Now, with this- you weren’t going to base feelings on one interaction. And there was another problem that already shoved everything down. The issue of rank. “Why am I even thinking about this- Jesus Christ…” You pushed all thoughts aside and down as far as you could.

You were by yourself downstairs for about ten minutes, so not much had happened with breakfast before Soap came out from the hallway, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t say ‘hello’ or any sort of greeting, he took a seat at the island and rested his head on the counter. “...head hurts…”

“Probably,” you replied quietly. While the bacon started to sizzle, you took down a glass and filled it with water. Two pills of the migraine medicine that you took were given to him as well as the water. “Can I interest you in coffee or tea? I have… both but no creamer if you want coffee. That’s the only thing they forgot to refill…”

Soap shook his head, downing the water that was given. “You might want to make some tea and coffee for the others though. Coffee for Alejandro and tea for Gaz and Ghost.” He lifted his head and looked around, landing on the couch- the empty couch. “Where’d you two sleep anyway?”

You scratched your head with your forearm. “Uh… Well I found myself in my bed with Ghost to the side. He was facing away from me.” Soap’s brows were raised to the ceiling. “Nothing happened! That I know of… I know while you guys are here I wanted y’all in the beds while I take the couch.” Your face was flushed again, making you look to the floor.

Your teammate was already humming a silly little tune, kicking his legs slightly to hit the island. “Ghost and Doc… sitting in the tree. K-I-S-S-I--”

“Shut the fuck up, John.” You threw a cooked piece of bacon at him. The man frowned, but picked up the meat and ate it, folding his arms to look at you after he was done. “One: I’ve never thought about it that way. Two: I have more important things to worry about while I’m here. Three: Rank.” Then you turned around and started on the pancakes.

-

The order in which everyone woke up is as follows: You, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro then Ghost. Everyone was munching on breakfast by the time Ghost came downstairs. Soap shot you a look, leaving you to throw yet another piece of bacon at him. Alejandro and Gaz gave each other a ‘What the fuck did we wake up to?’ before continuing to eat their food.

“Would you like any tea or coffee, Ghost?” You asked while standing up to head back into the kitchen. He mumbled something about ‘tea’ so you started on some chamomile. While waiting, you gave him a glass of water and a migraine pill, the same as everyone else. “How did I get into my bed by the way? My whole thing was for you to have that bed and I sleep on the couch…”

Ghost blinked at you. He was 90% sure you weren’t that drunk and could remember… but to each their own. “You sleep in your bed, I wasn’t gonna let you sleep on the couch.” 

From the dining room table, Soap was watching you talk with Ghost- it sounded like it was about the sleeping arrangements. He leaned in, ushering Alejandro and Gaz at the table, to do so as well. “I think our medical sergeant has some sort of feelings for LT.”

Gaz choked on his pancakes and Alejandro’s eyes widened into saucers. “Are you sure, hermano? That’s a pretty bold assumption to make…” Gaz slammed his fist into his chest to regain his breathing back, nodding in agreement. “I mean, I guess I could see it… but Ghost doesn’t seem like the type of man to, well… be with someone intimately like that.”

Soap could- it was very rare possibly, but he could see it. Contrary to belief, he knew Ghost had a heart. He remembered that conversation Las Almas when Ghost had told him ‘A man after my own heart’ after Soap had made an explosive device. When Soap questioned the existence of said heart, Ghost said he had one… but it was cold.

He was going to say more on the matter, but you and Ghost came to sit down at the table. In which everything became silent, save poor Gaz who was still choking on his pancakes. You raised a brow at what was happening, but none of the men would look at you. That raised some belief that Soap opened his mouth- but you obviously wouldn’t say anything here.

“You alright, Gaz?” You asked while chewing on the last bit of your pancakes. He waved a hand in the air, finally have caught up with his breathing. “Right then. About today, while I go to the hospital again… I’m gonna have you guys stay here--”

Alejandro put a finger up. “Didn’t Price say that we had to go with you everywhere?” Soap and Gaz nodded. “Instead of taking all of us, why don’t you just take one of us? Make things a little easier.”

Before you could say anything, Soap snapped his fingers- like he had an idea… but he wasn’t saying anything like that. “I’ll go with ya. Volunteer.” Alejandro and Gaz blinked at him, a silent phrase calling him insane.

“Oh-” you smiled at Soap. “Thank you, I really appreciate that.” Deep down, you really hoped there wasn’t some malicious intent behind all of this. “So… get dressed then, I wanna run some errands before I head to the hospital- and I guess you’re coming with me.”

A/N: There’s a whole reason behind Soap going with you. Y’all know what j-e-a-l-o-u-s-y spells? Yeah, that’s the route we’re going. ALSO, who doesn’t want to see the boys trying to figure out how to play Minecraft on your Xbox while you’re gone?

Taglist: Taglist: @redpool, @calicokitkat, @abbiesxox, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @tescomealdeals-blog, @judachoo, @cabreezer0117, @reiya-djarin, @cutiecusp, @m0chac0ffee, @cassie-vizsla, @seasaltt99, @lazy-kari202, @comedinewithmeyeah, @somnibats

[emmyrosee]

psst I had a thought I think you’d enjoy bc it is certainly bringing me lots of joy this morning-

okay so atsumu right? play fighting with him. pillows, tickles, lots of peppered kisses, the screeching- you’d probably get noise complaints from the neighbours (or some worried check ins to make sure you’re both alright), and when you’d both answer the door out of breath and giggly cause he was chasing you around the apartment, whoever knocked just rolls their eyes and leaves cause obviously no one is in trouble, it’s just young love again.

I bet if you guys were wrestling he’d be the type to go soft on you and let you win a couple rounds (which ofc you know, so you begin to rile him up for a real challenge)

But he’s strong, so he’d have no problem picking you up and throwing you on the bed when your taunts about him not being able to catch you in a chase/beat you in a “fight” finally get to him, and he’s grinning the whole way to your room cause he loves your laugh and he plans on getting his revenge tenfold.

I am incredibly fucking soft for this man I want him to let me think I’m winning and then totally wreck me after 🙂 (I could say the same abt a lot of haikyuu men tho)

Ily, I hope you’re having an amazing day!! 💓

anon <3

(P.s. I hope sending in long rants like this isn’t annoying or a nuisance- just let me know and I’ll knock it off!)

ANONNNNNNN IM GONNA COMBUST OH MY GOD-

Also do nOT knock it off, literally and all activity, be it adorable requests like this, or just to talk to lil ole me makes me so giggly and happy 🥹❤️

BUT THIS- THI- T H I S??? IS MY DREAM AND I LITERALLY WANT TO MARRY HIM LIKE, YESTERDAY.

Your neighbors hate you, because you two are up from the crack of dawn to the latest of dusks, just giggling and screaming with laughter at each other.

And genuinely, truly, Atsumu does not care. If anything, people coming and banging on your door and telling you to shut up only riles him up more. The amount of times you’ve tried to talk to your angry neighbors, only to laugh in their face as Atsumu tickles up your sides or nips at your ear is countless; all your neighbor can do is roll their eyes and ask you to please keep it down, but despite you swearing to, you know better than to make promises.

“Yeah,” he snorts, “keep it down.” Before you can even laugh, he makes a lunge at you to make you scream and dash away again, him hot on your tail and cheeks sore from the grin splitting his face.

He’s just such a snot rocket, I love him so much.

And dONT EVEN HE DOES Try every once in a while to put his pride aside and let you win when rough housing bc like. You’re cute and he loves you, so he’ll let you pin his hands next to his head and be all cocky with your victory, until he decides he has a problem with it.

“Ha,” you chant victoriously. “Suck it, nerd. I win.”

“Yeah yeah,” he snorts, lacing your fingers with his. “You win, baby, now let me up-“

“Big ol’ Atsumu, can’t even take down his better half anymore.”

“Okay, listen-“

“Just wait until the boys hear about how I’m able to pin you so easily.”

“Babe-“

“What would they say about the big, bad Atsumu if they could see him now-“

And it doesn’t take him much more than that to shove you on your back, gobble you up in his arms before you hit the ground too hard, and haul you up and into your bedroom, all before you can even say ‘wait.’

“You wanna talk shit?” He growls, hands immediately digging into your ribs and underarms. “Huh? You wanna talk big? Like you aren’t the most ticklish person I’ve ever met?”

“Shut up!” You scream, just kneeing him and writhing but god, he’s so big and he’s smiling so wide at the sight of you, the longer bits of his blonde hair falling all around and it’s almost hard for you to plead for him to stop.

So, instead, for a while, you keep riling him up- shoving and snorting and just laughing until you tap his wrist, letting him know that you’re really done and ready to behave again.

But even then, his hands never leave your body. They smooth out the phantom tickles from your warm skin, or cup your chin to guide you back into a kiss, or even pulling you into his side and gently rubbing your back when he decides that he wants to take a nap.

Because here’s the thing- Atsumu has to be touching you. It’s a thing for him, there’s almost always going to be a hand caressing your cheek, or holding yours, or tickling you, or pinching you, it doesn’t matter, Atsumu needs to be touching you in a way that conveys love and thrill. He’s not good with words, he never has been- but even his twin can attest he shows his best feelings through touch

He craves your challenge, loves the fight you give, addicted to the sound of your shriek filled laughter because it’s fun. Loving you is so fun, it’s what gets him up in the morning and lulls him to sleep at night. And he’s so happy he’s found someone to convey all of this to without having to surrender to words he’s not sure he can rely on.

Atsumu loves you so much it hurts him. He’d move mountains and cross seas, eat sand and fight the wilderness if it meant every day, he could come home and tackle to you to the couch and smother you in all the sappy affection he can.

And if putting you in a tickly full Nelson is his way of showing that, you certainly never complained before.

[locallyloathed]

Error Code #1345 (Chapter 1)

Yandere!Ted x Schizoid!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

CW: None yet, but it’s an I Have No Mouth fanfic, so it’s gonna get dark.

Thanksgiving. A time for family and friends to all come together, to celebrate their successes, and to show appreciation for the lives they lead. Even a small gathering can bring people together and forge bonds that last for decades. Having a long weekend to spend relaxing and catching up with loved ones can be considered one of the fondest joys in the heart of any true-blue American.

That being said, I’m one menial conversation away from slamming my head into the kitchen counter. Spending a week in the ICU with a concussion has never seemed more appealing.

Most of the family is used to this. Those who grew up around me and watched me mature firsthand disregard my existence in the kitchen, all having congregated in the living room after the meal had come to a conclusion with no more than ten words spoken in my direction. They had learned by now that it was an exercise in futility to attempt to pull me into the room for a chat. Those a bit more distanced from me in my childhood had put in a good effort, but were disheartened by my apparent lack of interest and had left me to my own devices. One might think they’d remember my social shortcomings after so long, but they always seem to find a new sense of misguided hope by the time November rolls around. The new arrivals, in particular those who hadn’t been pulled aside and given the standard psychology lesson on the way in, were the only constant thorns in my side this time of year. Luckily, it’s limited to one this time around. Unluckily, unfounded perseverance seems to be a virtue of theirs.

“So, anything exciting planned for Christmas this year? Are you spending it with us? Your mom was showing me Christmas photos of the last few years, and her house and tree look so pretty! Do you help her decorate?”

Take the fucking hint already, Jesus Christ. My usual tactics of arriving last to avoid the pre-meal small talk and hiding in the kitchen to avoid the post-meal small talk are proving ineffective against the newcomer. I can’t even recall who exactly brought them. A cousin, I think? Something about them not having anywhere to go this year and not wanting to be alone? God forbid anyone make the decision to not spend all five days off cozying up to a crowd of people. If the prying into your personal life to see if you have a “valid excuse” doesn’t drive you mad, the social repercussions of them deciding you don’t will. I don’t know which is worse: the faux sympathy and invitations to borderline strangers’ Christmas parties, or the guilt trips and patronization from every extrovert in a ten mile radius.

I’m dragged out of my thoughts by a startling snap an inch away from my nose. Jumping, I pull my gaze away from the glass of wine I’ve been nursing for the last half hour to see this stranger staring me dead in the eye, as though expecting something from me. The two of us spend more than a few uncomfortable seconds having an impromptu staring contest. Upon realizing that she had no intention of breaking the silence, I raise my eyebrows, waving a hand to prompt her to say what she has to say.

The woman huffs. “Guess that’s a no.” When I don’t respond, awaiting elaboration, she crosses her arms and looks away toward the rest of the party as if pouting. “I asked if you were even listening. And clearly, you weren’t.”

Moving my own gaze back to the glass of wine, I mutter, “Not really, no.”

She looks back at me, a startled sound not unlike a laugh escaping her. “And what, you aren’t even gonna apologize?”

I move to take another sip of alcohol, preparing myself for the conversation I can already see coming. Licking my lips, I give a slight shrug. “Eh, wasn’t planning on it, no.” At her offended reaction, I continue, “If I wanted to chat, I’d be in there,” I move my glass in a vague gesture toward the living room. “With the others. If you want to chat, you should be in there, too.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to cheer you up,” she says, straightening up. “You spent the whole meal staring at your plate, and I thought you’d like some company.”

“Again.” A more pointed gesture to the other room, where a small wave of laughter compels me to wait a moment before proceeding. “Chatroom’s in there. I’m just waiting on a ride.” To emphasize this, I pull out my phone and hold it up to show her the confirmation from Uber that a car was on its way. I unlock the phone, begin to scroll mindlessly through a random app and take another sip of wine.

Unimpressed, the woman prods, “Why’d you even come if you were gonna be such a downer?”

“Free meal, free alcohol.”

“Unbelievable.” She scoffs. “Is that really all your family is to you?”

Heaving a hefty sigh, I shut my phone back off, shove it back into my pocket, and rub my face. I can feel the frustration in me approaching its boiling point, wishing more than anything for a moment’s peace. “Look, I’m really not in the mood to explain myself to someone I doubt I’ll even see again. Just leave me alone already.”

“No, enlighten me,” she presses, reaching to grab the wrist of my free hand. Sensing the movement, I jerk away, nearly spilling my drink. Her hand stops in its tracks, but the irritation on her face remains. “What’s your problem?”

“Right now, it’s you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“God, your cousin was right. You’re so fucking rude.”

“I’m rude?” Setting the glass on the counter, I meet her stare, incredulous. “You show up to my family’s party, play pretend that you’ve been friends with us for years, pester the one person in the party that doesn’t want to play along, and somehow, I’m the rude one?”

The woman appears taken aback, stunned into a temporary silence. Just as she begins to regain composure, a new voice enters the tense atmosphere. “What’s going on in here?” My cousin’s head pokes around the corner, eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on me. “What did you do?”

I roll my eyes with a silent huff. “I didn’t do shit. She just refused to take a hint.”

Disregarding my answer, she looks from me to the woman, she asks, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” she blurts out, pointing at me in accusation. “I was just trying to be nice and they started yelling at me!”

My cousin turns her gaze back to me, glaring daggers, as if daring me to respond. I meet the cold stare with a face of stone. She pipes up, addressing her friend without looking at her, “Did they now?”

A chime rings out from my back pocket. I give it my full attention, turning on the screen to see an announcement that my Uber driver was out front. I let out a small hum, reaching for the forsaken glass of wine on the counter and taking a big swig before dumping the remainder of the lukewarm liquor down the kitchen sink. As I look up, I see the two women continuing to stare at me. I point a thumb in the direction of the front door. “My ride’s here.”

Shaking her head, my cousin fully enters the kitchen, wrapping an arm around the stranger and herding her away to the living room with the rest of the family. I wait a moment before following them, veering hard to the side to walk straight for the door. If anyone notices me leaving, they don’t say anything. I dig around in the closet for my jacket, tug on my boots, and grab the door handle before sparing one last glance at my family. Only one is looking my direction; my mother, her face nigh unreadable. Was it disappointment that shown in her eyes? Irritation? Resignation? Maybe even shame? Whatever it was, it makes my heart sink into my stomach. Wrenching my eyes away, I pull open the door and step into the cold.

Frost nips at my nose from the moment I leave the warmth of the house, leaving me to huff out a breath to keep from sneezing. The rather unseasonal snow drifting down is thick enough that I have to squint through it to see the telltale cloud of exhaust from my idling driver. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I awkwardly make my way through the piling snow built up along the pavement, careful not to misstep and tumble into the icy yard. I strongly doubt the Uber driver would be too keen on letting me into their car while I’m soaking wet, and I have NO intentions of going back into that house.

Upon my approach, the passenger side window rolls down, revealing a man who appears to be in his 50’s, maybe even 60’s. He hollers out my name, and I give a curt nod in response before doublechecking his own. With a smile, he reaches over to his door and I can hear the lock click open. I open the rear door, shivering, sitting down sideways to shake the snow off my boots before sliding in the rest of the way and shutting the door behind me.

“Lotta cars parked out here!” His voice is gravelly, and from the smell of cigarette smoke that seems to cling to the air, I can hazard a guess as to why. “Must’ve been a hell of a party!” I glance up after buckling my seatbelt to see him looking at me through the rear view mirror. Just when I thought I might get some quiet time…

“Something like that,” I say, leaning back against the headrest. I begin to sort through my mental list of excuses to get strangers to leave me alone. I hated every second? Raises way too many invasive questions with no “right” answers. It was actually a funeral? High risk of pity, and I don’t have the energy to keep that lie going if he presses me. Deciding nothing beats the classics, I close my eyes and say in my bleariest tone, “Gave me a hell of a headache to match.”

I hear him give a sympathetic hum and put the car in drive, feeling the car strain momentarily against the piling snow before shifting forward onto the road. “That’s a shame. I won’t bother you none, then. You just get you some rest.”

Thank god.

I turn my head toward the window, cracking my eyes to watch the buildings roll past. Most of the windows are dark, and the driveways barren, only for one to appear fully lit up with a caravan parked in the front yard. I muse over the emotions in each packed home as they go by. If I try, I can see it in my head; moms and their sisters gossiping as they clean up the dinner table, older cousins trying to scare the younger ones before getting smacked in the head by a grandparent, uncles all sitting in the living room laughing up a storm at some half-baked comedy show on tv, moody teenagers hiding away in some corner to avoid the others.

Huh. I was one of those teenagers once. A lot of my cousins were too. So why did it only stick to me? The houses become less focused as I retreat further into my head. I know the clinical reasons, of course. Emotional neglect, abandonment issues, unlucky lot in the genetic lottery, all the good stuff. But it feels… unfair. I don’t want to be like them. I like my life. I like having my routines, and my privacy, and my own little fortress of solitude. But, then there are times like now, when the introspection that usually keeps me entertained makes me face a fact I try to avoid: I... want to want to be like them.

The little voice in the back of my mind that I’ve gotten good at snuffing out rears its head, trying to make me want to try and socialize, make me want to be all smiles and laughs in the living room with my family. It always re-emerges this time of year; just something in the air, I suppose. I tried to satiate it when I was younger, but it always felt like I was just playing a part to appease the people around me, and the overall experience just left me more bitter than ever. The voice shut up for a good long while, but when the time comes to stand amidst sparkling lights and the chill of the first snow, it crawls out of hibernation, begging, pleading for something more than an empty home and a solitary existence.

But, like always, I beat it back with rationale until it finally concedes, slinking it back into the recesses of my mind. I’m like this for a reason. People are fickle at best and plain exhausting at worst, and the less of them I have in my life, the better for everyone. Is it lonely? Sure. Humans are social creatures, and my nature runs counter to all the programming my DNA has. The hand I’ve been dealt sucks, but it’s what I have, and I’m gonna play it.

I mull over these thoughts for the duration of my ride, the blurry, meaningless silhouettes along the road pulling me deeper into my thoughts before forcing me back out as the car pulls to an abrupt stop. As I blink the haze from my vision, I make out the outline of my home, which appears almost foreign in the bleak lighting and heavy snowfall. The driver turns to me and says something that I don’t quite catch, dragging me all the way back to consciousness. Sitting up and stretching, I ask, “Sorry, what was that?”

The old man grins. “That good a nap, huh?” A soft, wheezing laugh forces itself through his throat, dying out as he notices my lack of response. “Just checkin’ that this is the place. Look right to you?”

With a curt nod, I unbuckle my seatbelt and double check my pockets. Phone, check. Earbuds, check. Bag of sweets discretely swiped from the party, check. Assured that it’s all there, I move to open the door, the cold wind forcing its way into the space. The shudder that makes its way up my stiff spine feels almost painful, garnering a brief wince of discomfort.

A spared glance at the rear view mirror reveals the man’s face, twisted into a look of concern. “You sure you’re alright there? Awful weather, and between you and me…” He turns in his seat to face me proper, leaning in as if to tell me a secret. Against better judgement, I lean in as well as he murmurs, “I’m gettin’ a real bad feeling something awful’s brewin’. Feel it in my bones.”

Sunken eyes bore deep into my own, and his wrinkled face reveals no trace of jest. Instead, as I sit in the cold, I find myself meeting a gaze of trepidation and pure, animalistic fear. Another shiver, not from the atmosphere outside the car, but from the one within it. Forcing myself to look down, I’m careful to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “I appreciate the concern, sir, but I can handle myself.”

He doesn’t look convinced. But, the icy wind seems to have finally reached him, snapping him out of his reverie. The stranger nods, straightening up in his seat. “Reckon you can. Yes, I reckon you can. Even so, you just be careful, you hear?” Eager to get into my warm home and out of this bizarre conversation, I give a hum of acknowledgment before fully sliding out of the car. I can almost feel the man taking a breath to continue, and I hasten to slam the door behind me and make for the front door. As I unlock it, the car’s headlights leave my peripheral, followed by the grumbling sounds of the engine. Finally, some peace and quiet.

Trudging my way through the entry way, I kick off my boots, take off my coat, and toss both haphazardly into the front closet. I shut the door and lean my forehead onto the cold wood, feeling as if my head were made of lead. Just as I think I may fall asleep standing up, the soft patter of footsteps and a deep chirp bring a tired smile to my face. On cue, a large black cat trots into the foyer, and I watch in bemusement as his furry, upside-down face pops out between my feet, staring up at me and giving a louder, more demanding chirp.

With an exaggerated sigh, I lift up the hefty animal, holding him close to my chest as he begins to rumble in approval. “Hey, bud,” I murmur, rubbing his side as I take a moment to appreciate the serenity. The cat wriggles in my arms to look me in the eye, and as I blink lazily at him, he melts further into my hold. I give him a soft squeeze, and receive a slight indignant chirp in response. I chuckle as I stroll into the kitchen, confirming that his food bowl is nearing empty. “Always just want something from me, don’t you?”

Thoroughly unamused by my deadpan accusation, the cat struggles in my arms. I release him, letting him thump to the floor and watching him patter over to the food cabinet, working in futility to open it despite his lack of thumbs. I move him to the side with my foot to grab the bag and nearly trip into him as I begin to scoop the pellets into the feeder. Going through the familiar process of filling up his bowl lulls me further into sleepiness. I entertain the notion of showering, washing my face, curling up in bed, but every step of my usual process feels daunting when weighed against my exhaustion. Deciding to do none of that, I instead stop to run my hand down my cat’s back as he chomps away, relishing in the soft purrs he emits. “Good boy.” I know he can’t understand me, but I like to think he knows what I mean.

As my mind continues to unwind, the old man’s strange warning staggers into my brain, and I feel my stomach twist slightly. He was just messing with me, right? Just a weird old guy that gets a kick out of telling spooky stories to strangers to freak ‘em out. Creeps like that are a dime a dozen around here, and getting all anxious over their words is just giving them what they want. No matter how much I reassure myself, every blink conjures an imagine of the fear in his eyes, leaving me with an empty sense of dread deep in my soul.

The feeling of something bumping onto my knee pulls me back. The cat appears to have finished eating and has now taken to rubbing against me, nearly knocking me over in my unbalanced crouch. A huff of a laugh escapes me as I give him a good scratch behind the ears. Pushing myself off the ground, I stumble into my living room, flopping down onto the couch. I barely have time to flip onto my back before a solid weight lays itself across my stomach. I debate moving him to change into something more comfortable than jeans and a thick winter shirt, but the soothing rumbles against my body shut down that train of thought quickly. My eyes, already tired from the evening’s events, drift closed without a fuss.

I don’t know how long I spent unconscious, whether it was a few minutes or several hours, but I do know the pain of a fifteen pound cat launching itself off my stomach startled me back into the real world. Claws graze the flesh of my stomach as I hear the solid slam of him hitting the floor and scurrying towards the kitchen. Bolting upright, I squint in the darkness, trying to locate the shadow that almost managed to scratch me through my shirt.

I catch a glimpse of bright green eyes, wide and unblinking, darting around the room as though to catch a glimpse of an unseen predator. This is an animal that has gotten into fights with dogs ten times his size and launches himself onto the kitchen cabinets with nary a thought, and he’s never once looked as small and vulnerable as he does in this moment. Concern courses deep in my body, and I drag myself off the couch to approach him. Crouching down to his level a few feet away, I begin to coo in a sleepy tone. “Buddy? You alright?” As my eyes adjust, I can make out his rough shape, his long fur sticking straight out, making his already considerable silhouette even bigger. When he doesn’t come any closer, or even seem to acknowledge me, concern begins to curdle into dread. “What’s wrong, bud? What hap-“

The earth shudders and groans deep beneath my feet, knocking me off balance and sending me crashing to the hardwood floor and sending the cat into another fit of hysterics. I regain my wits, scrambling to my feet and stumbling to the kitchen window to scour the dark world outside for a hint as to what just happened. Car alarms blare in surround sound, and I see several lights turn on in windows adjacent, but nothing appears to have caused such a sudden disturbance. I can feel the ground begin to rumble again, less powerful, but unstopping. I rush to my front door, hands tripping over each other as I rip open the closet to pull on my coat and fumble with my boots before stepping out into the pandemonium.

The alarms are louder now, filling the world with a piercing shriek as if the air itself were a wounded animal begging for release. I watch from the porch as neighbors stumble out into the deep snow, some with sobbing children clutched in their arms, others wielding guns as if they planned on shooting the freak earthquake to death. At least, I think it’s an earthquake. What else could it be?

At that moment, with a blinding flash of light, I watch in frozen horror as an explosion emerges in the distance. An invisible wave is sent hurtling towards my neighborhood, and I barely have time to brace myself against the doorframe as it washes over me. My very existence is shaken, my ears left ringing, but I can hardly complain as I watch those around me drop to the ground in an instant. I barely have time to process whether they’re even still alive before my eyes are drawn to that distant light once more, and the ache of sheer, existential terror that crashes over me is second to none.

The undeniable, expanding silhouette of a mushroom cloud forces itself deep into my soul.

Unable to look away, I watch the nightmarish blemish on the night loom closer and closer to my home. The rumbling is deeper now, as though taunting me. In what I imagine are my final moments, I throw a mindless prayer into the void: someone - an angel, a god, a demon, I don’t care - please, someone, anyone, help me!

For a silent, terrible second, the world goes still. I feel the ground beneath my feet tremble, and then I don’t feel it at all. The terrors I bear witness to fall away. Or, rather, I fall away. Air whizzes past my face at such an immense speed it hurts my eyes. The light, much further above me that it should have ever been, illuminates my environment, if only for a second. It’s not rocks or dirt that line the inexplicable chute I find myself in.

It’s metal. Rusted, corroded, warped metal. And there’s no end in sight.

As instantaneous as it arrived, the light is snuffed out as I register the slam of said metal crashing together above my head. I guess that’s one problem solved, but I struggle to celebrate my newfound “safety” as I continue to hurdle down into the depths of the earth. The only things racing faster that the wind in my ears are the questions in my brain.

What happened up there?

Who saved me?

Where am I going?

Why do I feel like I’m the unlucky one?

The rapid fire questions, the sudden disturbance of my sleep, and the sheer shock of it all makes me dizzy. As I feel myself lose consciousness, I get the feeling something awful is brewing.

I can feel it in my bones.

Next

[x0401x]

Hey there! Since you've already finished vol. 3 of the Tsurune novel, are there any more quality Kaito/Seiya scenes?

Hiii! First of all, thank you for the ask. This was really fun to write. Second of all, I’m really sorry for taking so long to reply! It was super hard finding the time to finish it.

Now, to answer your question, there are indeed quite a few quality scenes of them in this volume, but more than scenes, I’d say there are lots of quality facts about their relationship. See, this volume speeds up the pace a lot and there are many characters being handled at once, so the focus often shifts all too suddenly from one scene to the other. Rather than getting actual moments of them, most of what we get is facts about the characters and their relationships. But in my opinion, they’re equally as delicious.

That being said, here comes the wall of text, lol.

First and foremost, I must make clear that throughout the whole volume, aside from the juicier stuff, we do get the usual interactions between these two. Seiya telling dad jokes and Kaito wanting to rip his own eardrums out, Kaito making fun of Seiya’s naming sense and pretending he didn’t say anything when Seiya asks what he means, the two of them mentioning each other in completely unrelated topics for no apparent reason, etc. The crumbs are just as yummy as the meals, I’d say.

One particular crumb that I love is the fact that Seiya is trying for individual competitions this year. We can check that one off our wishlists now, lol.

The first scene we get of them is actually a MasaMina scene that they take part in as kind of a bonus. The whole thing is fucking ridiculous and resembles a lot the boar scene from volume 2. Yeah, that one where Masaki protects Minato while Kaito protects Seiya and the whole thing just feels like some bullshit straight out of a cliché shoujo manga except with a bunch of guys. It also reminded me of the festival scene between Minato and Ren, where it starts out with Ren being hostile towards Minato and making clear that he doesn’t think Minato is good company for Masaki for various reasons, yet it ends with Ren asking Minato to “take care of Masaki”, showing that he resigns to the fact that Masaki isn’t gonna leave these kids ever. Still, though, this one MasaMina scene is even more ludicrous than the two that I just mentioned, and to contextualize the KaiSei bit that comes afterwards, I’ll have to explain it first.

What happens is that Kazemai is doing the yawatashi no gi at the Yata Shrine, just like the previous year, and Masaki and Minato go to the back to get kimonos. Minato had been feeling frustrated for some time now about Masaki avoiding him, which becomes even more obvious from the way that Masaki is walking so much faster ahead of him without looking back as Minato struggles to keep up. Minato asks to talk and Masaki brushes him off, telling him to save it for later. Minato then grabs his arm, which seems to be yet another parallel, specifically with that scene in Masaki’s car where Masaki isn’t looking at him, and Minato wants to grab his arm and brush his bangs away so that he can look at him in the eye, but holds back from doing it. Yeah, this time, he does it, but Masaki covers his eyes and asks Minato to please not give him “that look”.

When Minato asks Masaki what he means, he says he sometimes really wants to rub Minato’s head like he used to, but he “can’t let other people see that”. ‘Cause this choice of words totally sounds like what it should sound like. The actual context here is that the first-years of Kazemai have started complaining about the fact that Masaki is much closer to the second-years, especially Minato, so he’d been avoiding Minato and holding back from physical contact. What bothers Minato the most about this is the lack of eye contact, though. Yeah, his obsession with Masaki’s eyes is even worse in this book, if that was even possible. And that’s why these words bring Minato to the verge of tears. When he’s about to break down, his grandparents show up.

Yeah, his fucking grandparents. They literally just invade the back of the dojo out of nowhere. Minato’s grandfather, seeing him teary-eyed and all, starts accusing Masaki of being a terrible coach because “he’s forcing kids do club activities on an off day”. Minato tries to explain the misunderstanding, saying the club members were the ones who came up with the idea and making clear that this had nothing to do with his crying at all, but completely avoids explaining why the fuck he was crying in the first place, and his grandparents don’t seem to give much of a shit anyway. Speaking of explanation, Minato’s grandmother starts explaining to Masaki about the circumstances after the car accident that killed Minato’s mother and why they grew distant from that side of the family afterwards. This was completely unprompted and the flow of the conversation is, yes, “smooth as a jungle river” but Masaki rolls with it from behind Minato, putting an arm on his shoulder.

Minato’s grandparents take their leave, but not before asking Masaki the exact same thing that Ren had asked Minato in volume 2, except a tad more dramatic: “Please take care of him for as long as possible”. This “as long as possible” is actually just paraphrasing because the actual line was much heavier and wouldn’t fit. When people say “for as long as possible” using this specific term that Minato’s grandma used (末永く), they usually mean “forever”, “for eternity”. A bit too much to ask from a mere coach, let alone one that they just fucking met a minute ago, but this is the whole goddamn point, isn’t it, Ayano.

This is where Kaito and Seiya come in. They were, in fact, watching the whole thing unfold from behind a tree. No, not the whole club. Just the two of them. It’s not specified from what moment they caught the scene happening or if they heard anything that was said, but seem to know that all ended well. Kaito asks how Seiya knew that Minato’s grandparents would be coming and he explains that they’d gone to his house to greet his parents. Kaito then says Seiya should’ve said that earlier, so that he wouldn’t have had to worry. And then Seiya... apologizes. He actually fucking. Does that. It might be my memory failing me, but I don’t think I recall seeing him say “I’m sorry” before this scene. He says it so honestly that it catches Kaito off-guard, to the point he freezes up on the spot.

This bit is really cute because it just enforces even more that, yeah, Kaito and Seiya are the parents of the club, and more importantly, they’re Minato’s parents. The way they watch over Minato and Masaki as if they’re a couple receiving the blessing of Minato’s grandparents is hysterical. I love that this is just so natural for both of them. I mean, I understand Seiya worrying about what might happen, but Kaito? Why the fuck would he? And why should Seiya not only be able to assume that he’d be worried but also give him information before-hand so that he wouldn’t have to worry? The whole thing just screams “married couple” on a megaphone.

In-between this scene and the next one is where we get the delicious one with the song greenleaves at the fair. Later on, the next KaiSei snack comes from Seiya’s house, where the five second-year boys are studying for exams. In the middle of that, they get a visit from Seiya’s older brother, who came to town. His name is Gaku and he’s a whole can of worms of his own, and amongst a lot of other stuff, we find out two things: one is that Seiya thinks his brother is a weirdo and doesn’t respect him at all; the other is that, in spite of his attitude, Seiya refers to him as “Onii-chan”. This has Kaito shook, lmfao. He’s even more surprised by this than by Gaku’s eccentric personality and looks. In fact, so was I. This scene was so calm and slice-of-life-ish, yet it was pure chaos at the same time. It’s what I call the Tsurune Style TM.

It is also from this scene that we get more delicious fucking food about Kaito and Seiya’s relationship. Whoever has been reading the novel since the first volume probably had zero doubt that Seiya would be a doctor when he grew up and that taking over his father’s clinic would be his first and only choice. However, here the kids are on their second year of high school, where they have to think of their career paths so that they can plan it up and follow it through in the third year, and Seiya vehemently rejects the idea of studying medicine. Why? Because he’d have to leave town for that and because he’d have to focus a lot more on studying, inevitably leaving archery to the side. Regardless, Gaku tries to convince him to reconsider and asks the boys to convince him too. Their parents support their decisions in regards to their professions, but Gaku insists that Seiya’s vocation is to be a doctor (and he isn’t wrong). By the way, Gaku is an entrepreneur and wants Nanao to work for his brand in the future as a male model and makes the proposal right then and there.

Once the brother leaves (like a storm, just like how he came in, as did Minato’s grandparents), Kaito is shaken again, by both of these things. Both mean Nanao and Seiya going away and even Minato can tell that he’s disturbed. And get this: Nanao actually asks him what he thinks of this. Not just his situation but also Seiya’s. Kaito says it’s their decision to make, acting like he’s got nothing to do with it even though he’s obviously restless. Nanao then asks Minato, and he replies, sincerely, that he respects Nanao and Seiya’s respective choices.

After everybody goes back home, the subject extends itself with Minato and Seiya on one side and Kaito and Nanao on the other. Minato seems 100% fine with anything that Nanao and Seiya decide, even though it might mean not being able to do archery with one or both of them in the next year. Meanwhile, he and Seiya are worried about Kaito, who insists to Nanao that this his and Seiya’s business and no one else can decide for them.

A while later, Nanao decides to turn down the model proposal, as his dream is to become a carpenter. Seiya, however, chooses to become a doctor and take over his father’s clinic, but asks his parents to let him prioritize archery in his third year even though he might become a ronin as a result. Just like with his brother, his parents fully support him.

What I find absurdly savory in this whole ordeal is that when there’s a risk that Seiya might not be there with them in the next year, the very first person whose opinion everybody wants to know isn’t Minato’s, it’s Kaito’s. And it’s not for no reason. He’s not only the one that’s most shaken, he’s also the one who’d miss Seiya the most and they all know it. Also, just like from the latter half of volume 1 onward, Seiya is with Kaito most of the time in this book. And it’s really neat that his input means a lot in the conversation. One more thing I love is Minato’s reaction, because it really shows how he’s willing to let anyone go no matter how much it might hurt, but not Masaki, whom he already made clear he won’t handle over to fate or death in volume 1 or to the gods themselves in this one. This scene really serves to show many aspects of the characters’ relationships and what they’re willing (or not) to give up, as well as how they handle that. It’s so subtle yet not subtle at all. Just *chef’s kiss* level. Keep feeding us, Ayano.

This is basically what we get from book 3, I think! My memory might be failing me a bit, so I’ll add more to this post if I happen to remember anything else. Again, sorry for the late reply and feel free to ask anything else!

[sisterspooky1013]

More Than A Feeling, Chapter 4

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Week Two- Kansas City, MO

“Don’t sweat on the chicken, Buddy Boy. You’re cute, but not cute enough that anybody wants to season their food with ya,” Madge admonishes Mulder, prodding him away from the grill with the business end of a pair of tongs. “Well,” she adds, eyeing him curiously, “maybe one someone might.”

He ignores what is yet another attempt to get him talking about Scully, which he has carefully avoided. He’s used to people assuming that they’re an item, but the carnies seem particularly set on seeing the two of them make it official. If they only knew that Mulder doesn’t need any convincing that Scully is the girl for him—he’s known that for years.

The temperature edged over eighty degrees just before noon, which would be tolerable if he weren’t standing over a grill in the cook trailer brushing marinade onto half-cooked chicken breasts. The Kansas City crowd has so far proved to be a bit more entitled than the patrons in St. Joseph, and while Mulder and Madge have minimal interactions with customers, the way they treat the crew bleeds over into their demeanor around mealtimes.

Picker and Lenny are hunched over a picnic table with beers in hand, griping about some rube who threatened to call the sheriff if they didn’t give his kid a Little Mermaid plush on the house, on account of the fact that the game is obviously rigged.

“That’s a two way joint,” Lenny says angrily, “and it wasn’t even gaffed. Not my fault his rube kid ain’t got no aim.”

“I got your back, Lenny,” Picker says with a yellow sneer. “He got on the Sizzler right after and I had Joey make sure he got the gold car. Spun him up real good.”

The two men laugh conspiratorially and clap their hands together over the table top to congratulate themselves on a job well done. Mulder chuckles and shakes his head.

“Hey,” Lenny says, his demeanor shifting. He leans in towards Picker and speaks at a lower register, but Mulder can still easily hear them over the music in the trailer. “That green help, Barry. What’s your read?”

Picker sits back and looks around them quickly to see who is within earshot. Mulder has learned that he and Madge are often treated as though they are invisible, which serves him just fine.

“Somethin ain’t right,” Picker agrees. “He all but begged Mickey to put him on the punk rides. Seems a little too eager to help the kiddies get up on the carousel, if you ask me.”

“He fuckin’ creeps me out, man,” Lenny adds. “I’m gonna flag Tami on it.”

Mulder has seen the person they’re referring to—a forty-something pasty white man with a badly executed combover and a greasy smile. He was hired on this week along with a tall, lanky man named Mitch who shaves his head out of stylistic preference rather than baldness, and a plump Latina woman named Maxie who was assigned to a joint but seems to spend a lot of her time tagging along with Summer and Scully. Barry hasn’t struck him any kind of way during the few meals they’ve shared, though from the sounds of it, it’s the presence of children that brings out the behavior that has Lenny and Picker on guard.

“Goddamn it, Ricky, you’re burning the fucking chicken!” Madge snipes, shoving him aside and quickly turning over each of the half dozen chicken breasts on the grill, which are a little more well done than intended but far from burnt.

“I was watching it, Madge,” Mulder defends, caught off guard by her uncharacteristic brusqueness.

“Like hell you were,” she replies, not looking at him. “You were too busy eavesdropping on Lenny and Picker. You always do this, Ricky. You just can’t mind your own goddamn business.”

Mulder touches her arm lightly and she looks up at him with moist eyes, the haze of developing cataracts shimmering in her pupils.

“I’m Luke,” he says softly, unsure whether she’s having some kind of episode.

“I know that,” she says with a huff, though he gathers from her expression that it was more than a slip of the tongue.

“Who’s Ricky?” he asks, and Madge starts wiping down already clean counters and organizing utensils that don’t need organizing.

“Nobody, forget about it,” she says curtly.

Mulder steps up behind her and takes the rag from her hand, guiding her towards the door of the trailer with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

“Go sit down, Mom, I’ve got it. Take a break,” he says sweetly, and she stops in the doorway, her expression shell-shocked and her lip quivering.

“Are you okay?” he asks sincerely, wondering if the heat is getting to her.

She nods, the trace of a sad smile curling the corners of her mouth.

“Been a long time since anybody called me that,” she says tightly, and then leaves.

He finishes prepping the chicken, putting it in the hot-holding area until dinner breaks start, and then slices up tomatoes, onions and lettuce. He’s found that he enjoys the methodical nature of food prep, his mind wandering while his hands stay busy and music floods his ears. It gives him time to think about the case, and their available avenues for investigation, but mostly he just thinks about Scully. Her cute little coveralls and her dirty fingernails, and the way the sun is bringing out the freckles on her cheeks.

The new location for the show doesn’t have a grassy knoll, but the last two nights they’ve met up at the Ferris Wheel, sitting in the lowest car with his latest concoction to talk about the events of the day. Last night he brought her fried pickles with lemon pepper ranch for dipping and they discussed the locally hired help, who they have to consider at risk of disappearing.

“What do you make of Mitch?” he’d asked, and she immediately pulled a face.

“He made a crass comment to me about redheads,” she replied, dragging a pickle chip through the sauce he’d made from scratch. “So suffice to say I hate him.”

“I hate him in solidarity,” Mulder said emphatically, and she smirked at him.

“Barry seems pretty benign,” Scully added, “and I like Maxie.”

“You know who else likes Maxie?” Mulder asked rhetorically, and Scully rolled her eyes.

“It’s like being in high school again,” Scully complained. “I’m half expecting Summer to ask me to pass Maxie a note that says ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no.’ She asked me to apologize to you on her behalf, by the way.”

“Summer?” Mulder clarified, and Scully nodded. “What for?”

“In her own words, ‘for being a colossal bitch about the fortune teller.’”

Mulder shrugged. “I’d already forgotten about it, no grudge held.”

Scully chewed her lip thoughtfully. “It’s almost like you’re desensitized to bitchy women,” she said, carefully watching his reaction.

He narrowed his eyes and blinked at her. “You’re not referring to yourself,” he said. A statement, not a question.

Now Scully shrugged. “I have my moments,” she admitted, popping the last pickle chip into her mouth with a crunch.

“Maybe so, but I’d never use that word to describe you,” he said, collecting her plate and moving to stand up.

“Never?” she asked, disbelieving.

He stopped to truly consider it, leaning on the stabilizing pole that holds the wheel up.

“Well, maybe that time you yelled at me for eating your peanut butter cups,” he finally said, his tone teasing. “I may have had a fleeting thought of that nature, but I suspect there were extenuating circumstances that contributed to your out-of-proportion reaction.”

“Out-of-proportion?” she repeated, eyebrows kissing her hairline. “Those were gourmet peanut butter cups, Luke. And you washed them down with a warm coke.”

Mulder began slowly backing away, sensing that he was reopening a wound that had never fully healed. In the dark, he couldn’t see the cord lying across the ground just behind him and soon enough found himself flat on his back, dew soaked grass wetting his T-shirt and the yellow sliver of the new moon filling his visual field. Despite his bruised ego, and his bruised ass, Scully’s cackling laugh at his expense made it more than worth it.

He smiles to himself at the memory as he wraps up dinner prep, but his reverie is interrupted by a rapping on the side of the trailer.

“Hey kitchen boy,” Summer calls out, more playful than condescending. “Is Penny back from town yet?”

He turns to see her just outside the door, Maxie at her side.

“You’d know better than I,” he replies, lifting the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “I haven’t left this trailer since 10:00 am.”

When the shirt is no longer blocking his line of vision, he finds that Maxie is looking at his bare belly with slightly parted lips and a hungry expression, while Summer is looking at Maxie like she just declared that the earth is flat.

“Tell her to come find me if you see her,” Summer says flatly, tugging Maxie by the arm and leading her away from the cook trailer, and Mulder wonders if he’s just landed himself back on Summer’s shit list.

With nothing else to do until after dinner service, he turns up the music before he walks out of the trailer, breathing in deeply as the air temperature drops by at least fifteen degrees. Spotting Madge at one of the picnic tables furthest from the trailer, he pours himself a tall glass of ice water and makes his way over to her.

“Feeling better?” he asks as he takes the seat across from her, and she smiles at him sheepishly, the deep lines around her eyes highlighted by the harsh light of midday.

“I’m sorry about before,” she says, eyes on the table. “I got confused for a minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mulder reassures her with a pat to the back of her crepey hand.

“Ricky’s my son,” she says softly, lifting her head to look at him. “Or he was, anyway. He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Mulder says genuinely. “I didn’t know.”

Madge shrugs. “How would you? I don’t talk about him much. He’s been gone near twenty years now, so it’s an old hurt. But sometimes…you just reminded me of him today, I guess.”

Mulder is quiet, unsure how to respond and sensing she has more to say.

“I wasn't a very good mother,” Madge says, her expression grim.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Mulder insists, but she shakes her head.

“I wasn’t. I was strung out on smack most of his childhood. I kept him fed, but that was about it. By the time I kicked the habit and had two brain cells to rub together, it was too late. He was already mixed up with these street kids and—.” She stops talking and stares at her hand, the index finger tracing a gap between the boards in the table. The cartoonish beeps and wails from the midway suddenly feel offensive and out of place. “I was the one who found him,” she says, and he can see that the memory is as vivid as the day it happened by the stricken look on her face. “Needle was still in his arm.”

Mulder slides his hand across the table and places it on top of hers.

“It’s not your fault,” he says gently, and her face contorts as a tear runs down to the tip of her nose.

“You’re a good boy, Luke,” she whispers hoarsely. “I bet your mama is real proud of you.”

He can’t bring himself to refute it, so he just squeezes her hand.

-

The Datsun jumps and pitches through the dirt parking lot as Scully steers it back toward the boneyard, one hand on top of a stack of papers on the passenger seat to keep them from tumbling to the floor.

This is the first day off she’s had since beginning this assignment, and she went straight to town to locate a phone booth, which she then spent the better part of two hours standing in while Skinner asked her a myriad of questions and became increasingly more irate at her lack of answers.

“Am I correctly understanding, Agent Scully, that you and Agent Mulder have made absolutely no progress on this case in the past eight days?” he’d asked gruffly, and she was glad he couldn’t see her face.

“Not yet, sir, but these things take time. We have to build trust with the other staff members before we start asking too many questions, or it might look suspicious.”

“Well, you’d better hope no one else goes missing while you two are standing there munching on cotton candy,” he spat, and she accepted the verbal lashing with a series of “yes, sirs” and “thank you, sirs” and a promise that Mulder would also call on his day off.

The sun is just beginning a slow march towards the horizon as she parks beside her trailer to stash the paperwork in the locking cabinet, then heads into the fairgrounds. As she nears the cook trailer, she sees Mulder standing at one end of a picnic table, his bare back glistening with sweat, and prepares herself to avert her eyes.

There’s something about him here that has cranked up the volume of his attractiveness to her. Normally a static hum that she actively ignores, she’s finding it more akin to a megaphone aimed directly at her ear. It may be his snug blue jeans, or the apron tied around his waist, or maybe the kitchen-infused scent of his sweat. It could be the scruff on his cheeks, as he hasn’t bothered shaving with a razor but only keeps a full beard at bay with an electric trimmer. Maybe it’s the self-satisfied smirk on his mouth when she takes the first bite of the food he prepares for her, or the way he leans into her more readily without FBI agent fraternization policies to worry over (not that he’s ever seemed to worry much over those). She looks forward to midnight every day, and those few stolen moments where he looks at her dirty, grease smudged face like she’s dressed to the nines.

“Henny Penny,” Lenny calls out in greeting as she draws near, and Mulder turns to look at her, giving her a once-over in her jeans and thin white tank top. She keeps her eyes glued to his face, the velveteen ripple of his chest and belly teasing her periphery.

When she steps up beside him, he slings an arm around her shoulder in a kind of side-hug, his sticky skin dampening her arm where it collides with his torso. She resists the urge to push him away, to tell him he’s getting her all sweaty, and instead leans into him.

“We missed you today,” he says fondly, and she feels a flush of embarrassment at his open affection.

“Did I miss anything?” she asks, surveying the handful of staff who sit around eating chicken sandwiches and guzzling water. June has only barely begun and she hopes this assignment ends before they are subjected to the full heat of a midwestern summer.

“Other than Mickey getting royally ralphed on by some kid who didn’t know when to quit, not really,” Lenny says.

“Summer was looking for you a bit ago,” Mulder says, dropping his arm away from her shoulder. “She wanted you to go find her when you got back.”

“Okay, thanks,” Scully says, stepping away. “See you later.” She meets Mulder’s eye briefly and then lets her gaze skim over his chest, turning away before she gets as far as his belly.

“You better put a goddamn shirt on, son,” she hears Lenny say to Mulder just before she is out of earshot, and her cheeks burn.

She finds Summer near the maintenance trailer, in a protected corner behind the concessions where she set up the fortune teller for the week. She’s showing the machine to Maxie, who looks excited and amused as Doraldina moves her hand and turns her head, signaling that a fortune is about to be dispensed.

“Hey,” Scully calls out, and Summer’s head snaps over to her and then lights up with a smile.

“There you are, Miss Woman-About-Town,” she says playfully, and the fortune pops out at the bottom of the machine. “Alright, Maxie, the moment of truth,” she says as she plucks the card out and hands it to her.

“I’m nervous,” Maxie says, a hesitant smile on her mouth.

Summer steps closer to Maxie and winds her slender arm around Maxie’s shoulders, not unlike Mulder had done to Scully moments ago.

“Let’s read it together, on the count of three,” Summer says, and they count one, two, three in unison before Maxie flips the card over.

“Keep an open mind—new experiences will change your perspective,” Maxie reads, and Summer throws Scully a triumphant look.

“Does that mean anything to you?” Summer asks Maxie, who shrugs.

“Maybe it will, sometimes it’s for the future,” Summer replies, and Scully can’t stop herself from huffing a laugh.

“My break’s over, I gotta go,” Maxie says, tucking the fortune into her pocket.

“See you later,” Summer says with a megawatt smile, then watches Maxie walk away until she rounds a booth and disappears from sight. Summer lets out a low wolf whistle and then turns to give Scully a significant look. “It should be illegal to have that ass and those tits,” she proclaims, though somehow it manages not to come off as derogatory.

“I’m sure the authorities will be here any moment,” Scully quips. “Luke said you were looking for me, what’s up?”

“Do you know what happened to that other set of hex keys, the one in the red case?” Summer asks.

Scully opens her mouth to answer, but is startled speechless by two hands clamping firmly onto the tops of her shoulders. She spins around, breaking free of their grasp, and finds Mitch standing behind her.

She disliked him from the moment they were introduced. Something about his buzzed head, square, minky eyebrows and the everpresent smirk on his mouth told her that he’s a man who thinks he’s doing the world a favor by existing in it. And as soon as his eyes landed on Scully, he seems to have decided that she would be the one on which he would bestow the gift of his romantic interest.

“Ladies,” he says with unearned confidence, “how are we doing this evening?”

“Can we help you?” Scully replies flatly, not answering the question.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking for you, Red. My ride, the Viking? I think it’s got a bolt loose or something. It’s making a little clicking sound. Maybe you can come take a look?”

His mouth is coiled into that smarmy little smirk, his eyebrows pushed together like he’s speaking to someone leagues beneath him in terms of intelligence. She lifts her chin defiantly.

“My name is Penelope,” she says levelly. “I’m off today, maybe Summer can help you.”

Summer snorts, and the smirk fades from Mitch’s mouth. He looks past them, one hand digging in his pocket.

“I see you’re going to play hard to get, Red,” he says, producing a nickel between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s alright, I’m a patient man. Maybe this machine here can tell us what our future holds,” he says, stepping towards Doraldina.

Summer moves her body between Mitch and the machine.

“Don’t touch her,” she says plainly, unintimidated by the substantial height Mitch has on her.

“I’m a paying customer,” Mitch says, holding up his nickel with a sneer.

“She isn’t part of the show, fuck off,” Summer retorts.

Mitch sets his jaw, his empty hand balling at his side in a tight fist. Scully gathers that he is a man capable of violence.

“Mitch, could you actually do something for me?” Scully says, shifting her tone to a placating one.

Mitch turns away from Summer, stepping closer to Scully as that nasty smirk finds its way back to his mouth.

“Of course, I’m happy to help,” he coos, successfully distracted.

Scully turns on her own flirtatious smile, pushing her hair behind her ear and dropping her head demurely.

“It’s silly, but I forgot that I’m supposed to close the midway down tonight and I didn’t get the key from Lenny. Could you go find him for me and get the key to the midway, please? I’d really appreciate it.”

“The key to the midway?” Mitch repeats with a hint of confusion.

“Did they not tell you about that in your training?” Scully asks, and Mitch straightens his spine, nodding emphatically.

“Yes, of course they did. I’ll go get it for you, give me five minutes,” he says with an almost impressive level of confidence for something she is positive he has never heard of.

He rushes off to find Lenny, and Summer grabs Scully’s shoulders, shaking her with a laugh.

“It’s official, Penny, you’re a carny!” she declares, and Scully smiles proudly.

“What will Lenny do?” Scully asks, knowing that the key to the midway is a prank often played on new staff members, but not sure how it actually plays out.

“Oh, Lenny will tell him to go ask Joey,” Summer explains. “And then Joey will tell him that he’ll give it to him, but only after Mitch finds him a left-handed monkey wrench.”

Scully barks a laugh, and Summer’s demeanor shifts.

“That guy’s a fucking creep, Penny,” she says gravely. “He’s not going to let it go. Why don’t you just tell him you’re with Luke? He’ll probably give up if he knows you’re taken.”

“Luke and I are just friends,” Scully insists, and Summer’s face falls into a deadpan expression.

“That man eats you alive with his eyes every time your back is turned,” she says plainly. “And he’s cute, I know you think so. So what’s the problem?”

Scully shrugs and shakes her head gently. “We work together,” she says, which is actually a very honest answer.

Summer rolls her eyes, looping her arm around Scully’s shoulders and walking them towards the maintenance trailer.

“I guess I can respect your insistence on professional boundaries, even at a shithole like this,” Summer says. “But I’ll tell you this much, as a board certified lesbian and cunnilingus connoisseurr: that man knows how to eat pussy.”

Scully wants to ask her how she could possibly know that, but she finds herself speechless as she imagines, not for the first time, what Mulder can do with that smooth talking mouth.

-

Scully is already waiting for him at the bottom of the Ferris Wheel with freshly showered hair and two sodas.

“I contributed,” she says proudly, handing him a coke and taking one of the small paper boats from his hands.

They settle into the lowest car, and it rocks gently as she examines the food in the low light.

“Waffle fry nachos,” he explains, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

“You’re going to have me packing on twenty pounds by the end of this,” she says regretfully, but plucks a waffle fry coated in nacho cheese, ground beef, and olives out of the boat and drops it into her open mouth.

“What’d the Skin Man have to say?” he asks, being careful not to speak too plainly.

“He was less than impressed with our lack of progress,” she says, holding her hand in front of her open mouth to conceal the food she’s still chewing. “But he did confirm that Damian and Chris are both alive and well, so we didn’t miss anything. Coincidentally, there was a missing person reported in St. John mid last week, but they didn’t work for the show.”

“Lenny and Picker aren’t big fans of Barry,” Mulder says between bites. “They think he’s a little too fond of the kids.”

“They think he’s a pedophile?” Scully questions, and Mulder shrugs.

“I haven’t seen it myself, but they both noticed some suspicious behavior..”

Scully nods, looking out towards the boneyard where she can see people gathered around Tami’s trailer, drinking and laughing. When she looks back over at Mulder she finds him watching her, and he smiles sheepishly before turning back to his food.

“How was your day?” she asks, the question feeling oddly domestic.

“Hot,” Mulder says. “I had a good talk with Madge, though. Oh, and Mitch asked me if I knew where the light bulb grease was, then flipped over a trash can when I told him I didn’t think light bulb grease was a real thing.”

Scully’s mouth blooms into a slow grin, and Mulder quirks his head at her.

“He never did bring me that key to the midway that I asked him for,” she says, and Mulder returns her smile.

“You’re in big trouble now, G-Woman,” he says, shaking his head. “His tender ego will never recover.”

“That so happens to be exactly what I was hoping for,” she says triumphantly.

Mulder chucks their trash then returns to his spot beside her, kicking off on the platform to send the car rocking gently forward and back. He threads his arm across the back of the bench and Scully shivers when it slides over her bare shoulders.

“Cold?” he asks, scooting closer.

She shakes her head, then tilts it up to the dark, cloudless sky. Mulder mirrors her and they watch the sky in silence until he kicks off again, sending them swinging, as he hums a familiar tune that she can’t quite name.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Revenge of CHAOTICA!, Episode 5

Tricking their way inside the Owlword factory fortress, the group located the imprisoned PRINCE FLAPJACK the Merciless. Freeing him they began slaughtering everything in their path until they came face to beak with the commander of the fortress and his cadre of elite guards. Appearing suddenly, without even an establishing shot, Moonpaw bursts onto the scene! "Don't worry [Moonpaw], tails grow back!” *leans to Robbins* “No they don’t.” "....Robbins, sweetie, cover your ears.” "Can't. I-have-knives-in-both-hands. Knives-and-my-ears-don’t-go-together.” Fiver glares at the commander "OH I AM SO STEALING YOUR IDENTITY AFTER WE KILL YOU. I'm signing your ass up for Horseporn.com after this.” Commander: “Those horses wanted it!” Fiver blinks. "You bastard.” Thunderchild: “She slices, she dices, she makes julienne owl.” GM: You look down the stairs to see Flapjack engaging the guards below, covered in gore. Fiver: "Pretty sure that's gonna work itself out.” Silvercat, the commander tries to back away from you, giving you an attack of opportunity. "GET HIS WALLET [MOONPAW]! I want his credit cards. I WILL invest all his gold in cNFT’s.” "Meowtal combat!” "ROBBINS! I'M OUT OF HEALING, YOU'RE ON MEDIC DUTY.” "I-AM-A-STABBY-DEATH-MACHINE! HOWDOIMEDIC!?” One of them yells, “Screw this, you’re a terrible boss!” And runs for the stairs. Fiver just steps aside and lets him pass. "Fair warning, it ain’t much better down this way.” Thunderchild calls after the owl: “If you're still alive once all this is over, I have a concept I'd love to share with you and any of your fellow mistreated workers!” “HE KILLED HOT CARL!” One of the remains guards lifts her shield, “OwlWorld! Forever!” And then the staff implodes behind her sucking the commanders body into a horrifying nether dimension. “Okay, yeah, we’re cool.” "Alright then. Katt, grab the eye of Lumbara and let’s get the Hell outta here.” Katt, as you grab the hatchet, a word echoes through your mind … lumber……lumber… LUMBERCATS! HOOOOOOOO!!!!! "Gotta say, Flannel is a good look for you. You pull it off.” Flapjack makes his way up the stairs, dropping an armful of arms into Fiver’s arms. “Okay. Had a good time.” "Likewise. Also I think Katt just became the queen of Lumbara or something. Like seriously is that normal? Should we be worried?” "I'm not sure weapons found in polluting factories is a good basis for government.” “Sound the can opener, we take back Lumbera!” Flapjack: “We did. Everone’s dead. Except that one.” He says, nodding at the last guard. Thunderchild: “Leave them alone, I'm instructing them on the finer points of unionizing.” "So, QnA time, what the Hell was this all about?” Katt: “They loved Hot Carl.” “No, I was fucking Hot Carl.” Katt: “There’s a difference?” “Yeah, I love my husband, I was fucking Hot Carl.” Thunderchild: “Wait which Carl was in the cells? I'm going to assume Dumb Carl.” Fiver: "Goddammit the commander imploded. I wanted his credit card.” Moonpaw: "What's a credit card?” Fiver: "Oh honey, I can't bring myself to tell you. I don't want to break your little heart.” “No one will notice one more body.” "Noted. Shutting up now.” "Did you ask them if they stole from you first, confirm before you acted?” “That’s kinda outside my paygrade.” "So... You're-now-an-axe-monk. Huh-Sis?” "Better than an axe-cop.” “Beware-the-axe-milk-man." "Questions for later, I'm going to enjoy my box, maybe get blitzed on catnip with Moonpaw.” Fiver: ”Yeah, remember, you don't have to outrun the dragon, you just have to outrun your slowest friend.” Thunderchild: “Fiver, I hate to tell you this but I'm pretty sure YOU are the slowest friend in this situation.” "Am I?” Rabbit hop 15 feet across the room. "My legs may be a little messed up but I can still move when I have too.” *winces* "Um, bartender, could I have some Ice, I think I pulled a hammy.” GM OOC: I kinda wanted this to be an encounter that requires tactics. OOC: Oh no! one of our weaknesses! Along with. Puzzles. Diplomacy. Memory. Table Manners. OOC2: As a battle nun, Katt knows manners. Maybe she'll use them someday. GM OOC: Next week: THE FURY OF COCAINE! OOC: I don't have anything to do, so I've got to go remedy that.