#I swear I didn’t mean To Draw this my Hand just Slipped AGAIN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 1 month

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in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader

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adorethedistance · 9 months

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I Love You - Trevor Zegras x Reader (18+)

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, SMUT, oral f!recieving, rough sex

Words: 1956

Summary: When Trevor accidentally lets it slip that he's in love with you, the heat of the moment confession turns into the fuck of a lifetime.

A/n: I wrote this piece in one sitting and decided to not proof it extensively lol. It's not bad tho so enjoy! Minors DNI pls pls pls

“Spiderman would not beat Captain Marvel in a fight!” I sit up to passionately declare to an amused yet startled Trevor. As I sit up to straddle his hips, he subconsciously draws his legs up to rest against my back. Trevor looks at me with gentle shock, clearly not expecting me to get so fired up about the statement he’d just made.

I’d been laying with my head on his chest for a while as he and I talked about the wonders of growing up. Then, somehow, the topic of aspirations led to childhood, leading to superheroes, and now to hypothetical super battles. Once the initial shock wears off, Trevor’s eyes flash with stubborn delight and he pushes back.

“Spiderman would absolutely win.”

“Why?” I ask, preparing to deconstruct any argument he throws my way.

“He’s got Spidey-sense so his reflexes would be quicker.”

“Okay, that doesn’t mean shit!”

“Why not?!”

“Because Captain Marvel has actual powers and MCU spidey only has spidey-sense, which is really just mega anxiety.”

“No way!”

“You’re just mad because I’m right. JAMIE?!” I scream into the empty hallway. “Oh my god, wait, he’s not even here!” I begin wheezing laughing at my own brain fart. Trevor also begins to laugh, though it’s clear he’s laughing at both my wheeze and the embarrassing moment beforehand.

“I told you he’s out with some of the guys.”

“I forgot to ask, why didn’t you go with?”

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says as if that statement didn’t just make my heart swell a million times larger.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your choice, but you never miss guys’ day.”

“What? Yes, I do!”

“When?” At my question, Trevor pauses still trying to come up with an answer. “See?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to spend time with you...”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you!” Trevor and I both fall silent for a moment. Lips slightly parted in surprise.

“Did you just-?”

“I don’t think so-”

“You totally did!”

“Well…” He trails off again, “I do.”

Reaching forward, I extend both arms to hold his face and I lean down to kiss his lips. The kiss deepens as it lingers and I hum a happy sigh into the connection. Trevor finds our passionate rhythm and his hands that were originally resting on my waist trail down over my hips and onto my ass. I can feel him fighting a smile through the kiss, which causes me to smile. The small laughs between us are gone just as fast as they came, and I keep one hand on Trevor’s cheek while the other slips into his hair. Gripping my hand in the strands on his neck he moans softly into the kiss.

The heat of the moment leads me to begin grinding down on him, desperate for any sort of friction that could provide release. I trace the tip of my tongue down his neck, nipping soft bits of his skin between my teeth. Trevor groans at the sensation in tandem with the movement of my hips. The sound is so erotic it makes me want to ravage him immediately. I pull off of his neck for a brief moment to mutter,

“Bedroom. Now.” And Trevor doesn’t need to be told twice. He sits up sliding one hand under my ass and the other across my back to carry me from the couch to his bedroom. I marvel at how strong he is, how effortless the motion is for him. Trevor tosses me down on his bed with ease, a lustful smirk occupying his features as he admires the sight of me between his unmade sheets.

Before either of us can say a word, I’m tearing his sweatshirt and the soft baby tee underneath it, off of my feverish body. The choice to forego any kind of bra was purely coincidental. Or maybe I knew deep down that I needed him this bad. Regardless the action leaves us both topless, and his smirk now grows into a lustful grin.

“Fucking hell, I’m a lucky guy,” Trevor says as he takes in the sight of my bare chest. I remain laying down but extend my hand to reach for him. Trevor takes the cue, interlacing our fingers before dropping his head to pull my right nipple into his mouth. I gasp softly as he sucks the hard bud, grazing the flesh with his teeth, causing me to moan fully.

“Fuck.”

He puffs a small laugh of arrogance before harshly sucking a love bite into the side of my tit. He works quickly, placing a kiss on the mark once he’s finished before repeating the motion on my left side. I tangle both hands in the back of his hair. Gripping the tufts for my own expression of pleasure. My hands idly follow as he pulls off of my tits and leans up to kiss me once more. He sucks my bottom lip roughly before kissing his way down the length of my body.

The kissing ceases as he encounters the waistband of my pajama shorts. Hooking his fingers in the band he looks up, pausing for a moment to check in. I nod a fervent ‘yes’ and that’s all the encouragement he needs to yank off my shorts and my thong in one swift motion. He discards the clothing somewhere behind his body, staring down before meeting my eyes once more. He wordlessly quirks a brow. Such a fucking tease.

“Please,” I say, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. Trevor happily obliges, roughly lifting my legs. He braces himself with one hand on the underside of each of my thighs, pushing them so that my knees flank my marked breasts. His head dips lower. Licking the surface of my pussy with his wide tongue. I breathe out a pleasured sigh at the first contact. He continues licking up and down the length of my sex, lingering at the top to swirl his tongue on my clit. I moan softly at the action, causing him to swirl harder before sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth.

“Ah, Trevor!” I whine as he continues to pleasure me. His hands drop from holding my thighs to then open me up more, momentarily pulling off of my clit. The right hand spreads my pussy apart while the left lifts from above; I shudder at the feeling of the crisp air against my exposed clit. He snickers darkly before licking the bud, causing me to cry out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck!”

His pace quickens. The movement speeds up as I feel my high building further and further. And just as fast as he had begun, he pulls away from my core once more.

“Agh, you dick!” Trevor just laughs and fake pouts at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks snarkily and I roll my eyes. The act is surrendered without much of a fight as Trevor unties the drawstring on his sweatpants and drops them. His boxers quickly follow; he's already the hardest he’s ever been. I sigh at the sight and then scooch further down the length of the bed. With my hips right on the edge of the mattress, he reaches down to slowly trace his tip through my slick folds. He moans at the initial contact. I can feel myself getting wetter as he does. The things this boy’s moans can do to me is humiliating.

Then, Trevor gently pushes the tip into my dripping hole. He takes a moment, allowing me to adjust to his size before pulling back out again. He fucks in and out of me with the tip until I whine out of impatience. Trevor takes the hint and without a moment to spare immediately pushes all the way inside me, bottoming out in one quick movement. I groan out a cry, relieved to feel him again, but desperately wanting more.

“Fuck me, please,” is all I have to say before he begins thrusting in and out. The pace of his thrusts are steady and wonderful. If I’d know he could fuck like this from the beginning, I wouldn’t have wasted time playing false modesty. He continues to fuck into me, moaning at the sensation in time with his thrusts.

“Harder,” I sigh and Trevor merely smiles. He thrusts with a bit more force but I can tell he’s holding back. “It’s okay,” I say tauntingly, “You won’t break me.” Trevor seems ignited by the promise and begins to fuck harder and deeper. I loudly moan out with each thrust, reveling in the pleasure of feeling him inside me.

I can feel my orgasm building but before I can utter another encouragement he pulls out completely. “Wha-” I try to ask but Trevor quickly uses his impressive strength to rough flip me over. Laying face down, on my stomach, he grabs my legs and pulls me back to the edge of the bed. From where he stands, he pushes back in to fuck me harder and faster from behind. I cry out in immense pleasure and reach my right hand out behind me. Trevor interlaces our fingers and uses the position to pin that arm on my back, using that as leverage to go harder.

I could scream with how intense the pleasure is. As he continues fucking me I feel my high building once more. Trevor senses my peak through the way my pussy is clenching his dick, and he begins moaning louder at the sensation. Fucking faster and harder, he holds one hand on my back, the other on my shoulder to keep my from moving away from the end of the bed. I use my free hand to grip the fabric of his sheets in my fist. Each thrust gleaning a louder, more intense cry than before, building higher and higher.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” I squeak as he fucks me hard. The swelling mix of his pants and moans indicate he’s also close.

“Fuck. Me too, babygirl.”

“Please please please please please,” I whisper as I near my high more and more. As my orgasm envelops me, I go silent reaching for the peak of my high. The intensity of my squeezing around his dick amplifies, and the added friction is enough for him to climax simultaneously. He doesn’t let up his pace, allowing the both of us to release at the same time.

“I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming,” I whine as he twitches, jerking slightly as he finishes inside of me. The both of us finish with a symphony of moans and whines, falling into one another’s pleasure as we do.

Trevor then pulls out of me and collapses on the bed beside me. As I turn over, I feel his cum start to leak out of me but I’m too exhausted to do anything about it. When I finally muster the energy and look up at his sweating face, I smile and laugh breathlessly due to the rush of endorphins.

“Holy shit,” I say as best as I can with my dry mouth.

“That was easily the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Agreed.” We fall silent again for a brief moment, Trevor resting his eyes in the interim. I look at his handsome face and smile as I think about how he’s completely and utterly mine. “I love you, Z.” His eyes flutter back open and he smiles sweetly. He sits up to look at me fully and say,

“I really am the luckiest guy in the world.” Trevor then leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on my lips.

“I’ll get you a towel and then you should probably pee.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 8 months

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can i ask for literally any type of fluff romantic with sodapop? i’m in desperate need for that lol. hope your have an amazing day xx :)🫶🏻🫶🏻

Whoops

A/N: Thanks for the request! It's not my best work, at least I don't think so, but I really hope you enjoy it! And by the way, you've got such a pretty blog! Very nice to look at!

“You love me, right?”

Y/N looks up warily, folding their magazine in their lap. Those words, especially coming out of Soda's mouth, can never mean anything good. Slowly, as Sodapop approaches, Y/N pulls their feet back from where they had kicked them up on the front counter. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Sodapop flashes that movie star smile and leans back, hopping up next to the cash register. He kicks his feet in the air and smiles a little harder than he should be.

“Liar.”

The smile falters.

“I may...or may not have...told Darry that you’d be willing to cook dinner for the boys while he was out with his college buddies.”

“Sodapop Curtis, you didn't!”

His deep brown eyes drop to the floor, shoulders hunching as he draws his hands to his lap and fiddles nervously with his fingers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, it just slipped out.”

Y/N sighs and reaches up, pinching the spot between their eyebrows. Dinner for the boys. Dinner for all of the boys. That’s a lot of mouths to feed. Especially if the boys are hungry from doing God knows what all day long.

“Everyone’s gonna be at your house?” Y/N asks after a moment in a quiet voice, not yet looking over at Sodapop. Even without looking, they can practically see the way he’s nodding, thrilled with the possibility of Y/N going along with his mistake.

“Yeah! Everybody! They’re gonna be there around six! ‘Cept for Dally, he might be a little late ‘cause he said he had somethin’ to take care of with Shepard."

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N lets their hand drop and nods as if they’re signing away their life and not just cooking dinner for a bunch of hungry boys. “I’ll do it.”

Sodapop beams. It’s brighter than his standard movie star smile, not so forced in the corners, and lights up all of his face, all the way up to his eyes. Y/N likes it a lot better than his movie star smile. Soda leans in to press a few short kisses to their cheek, murmuring grateful remarks against their skin.

When he pulls away, the smile is still there.

"I'm gonna go call, Dare," Soda murmurs as he slides of the counter, his hand grazing over the edge of Y/N's knee as he heads for the back of the DX. "You’re the greatest!”

“Yeah,” Y/N mutters with a pleased huff, kicking their feet back up and opening their magazine again as Soda walks away. “I am the greatest.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #via 252

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sluttywonwoo · 10 months

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love the heat || h.wj

pairing: hong woojin x reader

summary: you indulge your boyfriend in his biggest fantasy

warnings: swearing, blood mentions, smut (18+ ; minors dni)

additional warnings: a lil exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), face sitting, cumming untouched, absolute pussy fiend woojin

word count: 3.2k

“Hey, Champ!”

Your voice echoing throughout the empty gym makes Woojin perk up and turn around, eyes searching the arena for you. He spots you by the door and his face lights up. His trainer, on the other hand, looks significantly less enthusiastic about your unannounced appearance. Woojin doesn’t seem to notice, though. He beckons you over, lifting the ropes so you can duck into the ring with him.

He wraps you into a hug, despite your protests of him being sweaty, and only releases you once you return his embrace.

“Don’t call me champ when you know I got my ass handed to me yesterday,” he mumbles.

“You’re my champion. Doesn’t that count for anything?” you ask.

“Of course it does,” Woojin surrenders momentarily, swooping down to kiss you chastely on the lips. “But ranking first in your heart doesn’t do much for sponsors.”

You put your hands on your hips, trying to look stern. “Weren’t you only practicing yesterday? What’s with the dramatics? It’s not like it was a televised fight.”

“And even so, Geonwoo still hit me so hard I blacked out for a couple seconds.”

“He what?”

Woojin hadn’t mentioned that part last night in the debrief of his day he always gives you when he calls to say goodnight.

He shrugs it off. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to hit me that hard.”

You frown, cupping his face to get a better look at the damage. “And he split your lip? Jesus, Woo, do I need to have a chat with him?”

“No, no. It’s fine, babe. It happens all the time.”

“Still, he needs to be gentler when you’re just sparring. I don’t want to taste blood every time I kiss you.”

“I guess only one of us doesn’t mind the taste of blood,” Woojin quips with a smirk, pulling you closer to him by slipping two fingers into a belt loop on your jeans.

“Woo!” you scold, shoving him away. You nod in the direction of his trainer who is still standing less than ten feet from the both of you.

He holds up his hands defensively. “What! I was talking about my own blood.”

“Yeah, ok,” you mutter before turning to the other man in the ring. “Hi, Jimmy.”

He nods. “Always a pleasure.”

You manage to keep yourself from snorting at the blatant exaggeration, if not flat-out lie, and nod politely back to him.

“I’ll be over on the bench until you’re finished,” you say.

“I can be finished right now,” Woojin blurts.

“No, you can’t be. I heard Jimmy saying ‘three more sets’ when I walked in. And you have to cool down after.”

Your boyfriend’s smile wanes but his trainer mouths a silent thank you to you behind his back.

“I’ll make them quick, then,” he promises.

“I’m not in a rush.”

“Well, I am,” Woojin murmurs, pulling you close again. “You smell nice, by the way.”

You drop your voice to a whisper and will yourself to take a step back. It’s so tempting to just yank him out of the ring and drag him to your car but you’re the one with more restraint between the two of you so you have to keep it together for both of your sakes. “Keep it in your pants, Hong. I’ll be over there.”

He pouts. “You’re not going to give me a kiss for good luck?”

“Isn’t this just practice?”

“Wow, so you hate me.”

“Yes, that’s exactly the conclusion you were meant to draw from that,” you deadpan.

“Can I get a kiss or not?”

“Yes, you can. But next time just ask for one. Don’t use luck as an excuse.”

Woojin opens his mouth, you predict to argue back about how he had done no such thing, but you kiss him before he can get a word out. He lets out a surprised “hmph!” before relaxing his lips against your own. You pull away before he can take it any further, smiling only a little at the whine that escapes him when you do.

“Good luck, Champ.”

Woojin does fight better when you’re around. He’s always called you his good luck charm, and honestly, you thought he was full of shit at first. He was just a good fighter, period. His talent didn’t have anything to do with you. But then you had to take a trip overseas for a few weeks a couple of months into your relationship and you changed your mind.

His matches were televised so you watched all of them, setting your alarm for ungodly hours or simply pulling all-nighters to be able to tune in live.

The first fight you weren’t able to go to went horribly. You almost had to stop watching because of how bad Woojin looked by the end of it. You still remember crying to him over the phone about it afterward.

You thought it was a fluke. Everyone has bad days. Then the pattern continued. The other matches weren’t as bad as the first one, thankfully. Woojin even won some of them. But he was off his game the whole time.

Geonwoo told you he had never seen anything like it. He had never seen his best friend so... distracted before.

Both boys begged you to come home as soon as possible. And when you did, his streak of bad luck immediately ended.

He won the title of the first tournament you were back for. It was the first and only time he’s beaten Geonwoo, who tackled him in a hug as soon as the ref called the match. Woojin had to physically push his best friend off to get to you. Geonwoo was almost offended until he saw you standing behind him, waiting for your boyfriend’s attention. It was not the first nor would it be the last time Geonwoo forgot about your existence. You don’t mind, mostly. It’s only ever for a second and he always apologizes profusely.

Your presence hasn’t affected his performance that dramatically since then, but he does fight better when you’re there cheering him on. It’s proven when you hear a punch land with a resounding “oof” from Jimmy, and a comment from the trainer about how he’d finally gotten past his block. Jimmy lets your boyfriend off a couple of minutes early, evidently tired from the beating he was taking. Woojin rounds the benches where you’re sat, grinning at you like he’s just won the lottery.

“Ready to go?” you ask, handing him a towel.

“Just about,” he answers as he wipes the sweat from his face. “Gotta hit the showers first. Wanna join?”

You scoff, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jimmy hadn’t heard him. “This is a public space.”

Woojin checks his watch and smirks. “Only for about seven more minutes. Then it’s closed. It’ll be all ours.”

You roll your eyes. “Except you’re not the one with the keys to lock up, Jimmy is. Do you really think he’ll want to hear that?”

“He won’t mind.”

“He most definitely will.” You push Woojin’s thigh with your knee. “Now hurry up. The faster you shower, the faster we can get out of here.”

You picked up takeout on the way back to the apartment Woojin shares with Geonwoo. There was enough food for all three of you and now the empty containers lay on the coffee table, long forgotten as the credits to the movie you’d put on in the background roll.

Geonwoo had already gone to bed. He left halfway through, claiming to be too tired to watch the whole thing. You knew he had probably looked up the ending on Wikipedia and decided he’d rather play games in his room instead but you didn’t question him when he dipped.

“What do you want to watch next, babe?” Woojin asked as he gathered up all of the plasticware and rinsed it out in the sink.

“Whatever,” you answered noncommittally from where you were laying on the couch.

“Are you feeling tired, baby?” Woojin asks once he’s returned from sorting the containers for recycling. He kneels by the couch, petting your hair gently.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh.”

“What’s on your mind, then?”

“Something like this.”

You lift your head from the sofa’s armrest and lean forward, meeting Woojin with a kiss. He hums against your mouth like he’s pleasantly surprised and deepens it without further question. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he cradles the back of your head with one of his hands. It gets heated fast. One second you’re laying down on the couch making out, the next you’re on the living room floor with your boyfriend who’s working a hand down your pants.

“Wait, wait, wait- Geonwoo is home, babe,” you whisper after breaking away from his embrace.

Woojin looks mildly miffed, curls in disarray as he pouts at you. “So? He’s in his room.”

“Yeah, and his room is right there,” you hiss, looking over your shoulder at his door.

“He’s asleep.”

“We don’t know that.”

“He said he was going to sleep,” Woojin points out. “Are you uncomfortable out here? Because we can go somewh-”

“No, it’s not that, I’d just feel bad if he suddenly walked in on us.”

Woojin shrugs. “He’s seen worse.”

“That’s not the point. You know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t hear us going at it when we’re in my room. We share a wall.”

Well, that was a slightly mortifying bit of information that you had not previously been aware of. You knew they shared a wall, obviously, but you hadn’t thought about the way sound traveled through said wall. And now that you were thinking about it, you could hear Geonwoo yelling at his game sometimes. Fuck.

You scramble to your knees and push yourself back onto the couch. Woojin puts a hand on either of your thighs and spreads them apart, looking up at you

“It’s a little hot if you think about it,” he says. You purse your lips. “Look at you, you can’t even deny it!”

“Just get up here.”

You don’t give him a chance to make another snarky comment before you’re yanking him up by the collar of his T-shirt and kissing him again. Woojin doesn’t protest. He simply makes a sound of satisfaction against your mouth, like he’d won.

There’s a bit of push and pull. You trying to tug him up onto the couch, him trying to drag you down back onto the floor. But the game of tug of war persists for just a moment before your boyfriend overpowers you and pulls you onto his lap. You knew he had only been humoring you for the sake of the bit.

“Baby?” he asks when you start to kiss his neck, sounding a little breathless.

“Hm?”

“Will you sit on my face?”

You pause and sit up properly to look him in the eyes. “What?”

He swallows thickly, looking desperate. “Sit on my face, please?”

Woojin loves your pussy. Loves the taste of it, to be more specific. He loves the feeling too, of course, but he’s spent hours with his head in between your legs making you see God over and over again. He eats you out every single time you have sex. He eats you out even when you don’t have sex sometimes, just because he’s craving you on his tongue.

But you’ve never sat on his face. In all the months you’ve been dating it just hasn’t come up. He’s had you in practically every way possible except for this one.

“Please, baby. Don’t make me beg.”

He was kind of already begging but you weren’t going to point that out. You looked towards Geonwoo’s door again and then back at Woojin.

“Here?”

“Yeah, right here,” he pats the spot on the floor. “Just get on top of me.”

“Alright, help me get my pants off.”

You’re still in your outfit from work because you don’t like to change before you shower and you don’t like to shower unless you’re going to be in bed for the rest of the night. You’ve argued about Woojin eating you out after a full day of work before but he insists that he could not give less of a fuck about the state your pussy is in as long as it’s in his mouth.

You only let him do it because you know he means it and he makes you cum so hard that you can’t even find it within yourself to be self-conscious.

Your work slacks are tight but Woojin manages to get them off in record time. He folds them neatly and places them on the couch before getting into position and motioning for you to join him.

You wiggle out of your underwear and set them on top of your pants. Woojin’s already on his back but he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you. He smirks as you step over him, straddling his waist with your ankles instead of your thighs.

“You look so fucking hot like that,” he mutters. “Kind of just want to watch you stand there and look disappointed in me all night.”

You scoff. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you.” He winks and clicks his tongue.

“You’d really rather do this instead of... the other thing?”

“I never said that! I’d rather do the other thing. Definitely the other thing.” You snort and shake your head at him. “But we can file this away for another day?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“But what you want more...”

“Is for you to sit on my face, yes. So come here.”

Woojin knows you’re not teasing him on purpose, but it definitely feels like you are. You’re still out of reach, hovering hesitantly above his mouth. You seem nervous so he doesn’t rush you but he’s dying for it.

It also seems like you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. He thinks about asking you if you’ve ever done this before but then he decides he would rather not know the answer to that question.

“Here, baby,” he murmurs and puts his hands on your hips to guide you down onto him.

“Remember, tap me twice if you can’t breathe or something,” you remind him.

He won’t need to do that but he nods in acknowledgment to ease your mind if nothing else.

Woojin coaxes you down a little further, close enough for him to taste you if he cranes his neck so that’s what he does. He lifts his head and sticks out his tongue to trace the shape of you. Immediately, you shudder and Woojin uses your clumsiness against you. He raises his shoulders as soon as he feels your legs begin to shake which makes you lose your balance and fall onto him completely.

Your boyfriend moans into you, making you whimper in turn. He’s instantly convinced this is what heaven feels like. All of his senses have been overtaken by you. All he can taste, smell, see, and feel is you. And all he can hear are the sweet sounds of pleasure he knows you’re trying to hold back.

You’re sort of just sitting there on his face, and to be fair that’s what he’d asked you to do but he knows it would feel even better for you if you moved a bit so he encourages you to rock your hips by pushing on your ass. You get the message and start to grind down on him, earning praise in the form of a thumbs-up.

“Fuck, so wet,” he compliments, hoping you can understand him.

“Yeah, well you know what watching you box does to me,” you sigh defensively.

Woojin tries not to smirk because he knows you’d be able to feel it but he can’t help himself. You smack his shoulder in retaliation. Yeah, that’s pretty much what he thought would happen.

“Taste so good, baby. Thank you. Than- mph!”

You’d threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him by it, using your newfound control to push his face even deeper into your cunt.

“Fuck yes... does it feel good?”

“Feels fucking incredible, Woo. How are you so good at this?”

Woojin doesn’t want to admit that it’s all he’s thought about since he met you. Doesn’t want to share the fantasies that have kept him up at night with a hand around his cock, sometimes with you sleeping right next to him. He’s wanted you to ride his face since before you started dating, and once he’d actually tasted you, it was over for him. Just like it’s over for him now.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his entire life. It hurts and he’s been thrusting into nothing for several minutes now, and he’s almost certain his sweats are already ruined with the amount of precum he’s leaking.

He loses the ability to speak when he starts fucking you with his tongue but he figures his mouth is being put to better use like this anyway. Besides, you do enough talking for both of you. You’re still trying to keep your voice down since Geonwoo is in the next room but it ultimately doesn’t matter because the most obscene sounds in the room are coming from Woojin making out with your pussy.

His nose nudges your clit over and over each time you glide over it like it’s a credit card, and it makes him wonder what it would feel like for you to ride his nose. He’s gotten a few compliments on the shape of his nose so he’s confident that it would feel good for you but in order to do that you would have to turn around and he’s enjoying having his tongue inside of you way too much to give that up.

“Woo, fuck,” you gasp suddenly.

Your thighs squeeze tighter around his head and he whines, wishing it were somehow possible for you to crush his skull and still live.

“Close?”

“Yes, I’m right there, don’t stop...”

He holds you down as you cum, absolutely drowning himself in the arousal that gushes from you as you do. He laps up as much of it as he can, but he can’t quite get all of it and what’s left runs down the sides of his face onto the rug beneath him. He can’t find it within him to care, aside from being slightly jealous of the carpet.

You’re saying something but all he can hear is white noise as his body goes taut and then relaxes. When he comes to, you’ve already climbed off of him and are laying on the floor spent.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs.

You lift your head curiously. “Did you just-”

“Yeah.”

He grimaces and sits up to assess the damage. His sweatpants have a dark wet spot right over his dick. Predictable. He hadn’t wanted to cum like that but it was simply unavoidable. Anyone in his position would have done the same thing. Probably.

“The rug,” you groan, staring at the stain.

“I’ll send it off to be cleaned,” Woojin assures you.

“You don’t have rug cleaning money!”“Then I’ll clean it myself. There’s a twenty-four-hour convenience store down the street. We can go there to get the stuff. After we do that again.”

finally finished this bad boy ;-; lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

bloodhounds tags: @sluttywoozi @kimanniexxx @icyb3rry

#bloodhounds smut #hong woojin smut #bloodhounds x reader #hong woojin x reader #hong woo jin smut #hong woo jin x reader #bloodhounds x female reader #hong woojin x female reader

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midnightfictionlibrary · 1 year

Text

How I Do - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : support, angst, love and care, mentions of abusive parents, abandonment issues

Word Count : 1.1k

Plot Summary : Jamie is feeling anxious before the match with Man City. He needs comfort, and he seeks it out in you, his friend. Or is it something more?

A/N : I love Jamie to pieces and absolutely needed to write something about him getting the comfort he deserves. As always, please like and reblog to support my writing if you enjoy it, and let me know what you think <33

Jamie Tartt didn’t know how to feel. He sat in the boot room, trying to suppress the feeling bubbling into his chest. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, and with a small whimper he leaned forward, pressing his hands to his forehead. He shouldn’t care about his shitty dad, the man who terrorized him, the man he hated. He hated him for how he treated Jamie, and especially how his father treated his mother. Jamie lets out a watery sigh, a few tears slipping from his eyes onto his cheeks. Most of all, he hated that it felt like everyone always left him, and lately he felt like he was losing you too. You had been busier lately, and he missed your presence calming his irrational insecurity.

Little did he know, but you were headed to the boot room as he had this moment to himself. As the team’s physiotherapist, you wanted to catch Will and tell him that once Isaac’s orthopedic insoles came in, you needed him to bring them to you so you could make sure they fit or needed modifications. When you walk in, however, you are caught off guard. There’s Jamie, sitting hunched over. It sounded like he may be crying, and you’re immediately concerned. You drop your bag on the floor with a thud and immediately cross to him, sitting down next to him.

You don’t need to announce your presence, because Jamie knows it’s you. The light vanilla and coconut scent you left behind you at all times hit his nose and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, wondering if he should be embarrassed you were seeing him like this. But before you can utter his name, he’s turned to you, burying his face in your neck and you immediately wrap your arms around his neck. He lets out a small, shuddering sob, and you swear you feel your heart break.

“Jamie? What’s happened, love?” You say softly, stroking his hair, drawing circles with your finger lightly at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t answer, so you pull back slightly, placing your hands on his face to pull his gaze towards you. You search his face, and when he glances away from you, it seems to dawn on you. “Is this about your father?”

Jamie sighs, gauging how to answer. His relationship with you was complicated. You were his best friend and vice versa, but sometimes…the touches, the lip brushes across hands and foreheads…it felt like more. Even when you called him love he felt his anxiety dissipating, because you were there and you were like safety embodied to him. “Yea. And no.” He says thickly, swallowing, pulling away from you to wipe his eyes with the heels of his hands. You furrow your brows, grabbing his wrists gently and moving his hands away from his face once more.

“Has something happened?” You ask, trying to get him to look at you again, but he won’t. You settle for letting your hand rest on his head again, stroking his hair.

“S’okay.” He mutters. “just not feeling meself.” Jamie finally lifts his head, the sight of his slightly swollen, red eyes stabbing you in the chest. “Shouldn’t need his approval, anyhow. He don’t mean nothing to me anymore. He’s a prick.” You nodded, lightly touching his brow bone. Jamie seems to melt into your touch before his eyes water again. “It feels like everyone leaves me.”

“Parents have a funny way of creating lasting insecurities in us.” You mutter, watching his face as he mulls this over. “But that doesn’t mean they have to stay forever. You have done so much growing, Jamie Tartt. It doesn’t matter what your stupid prick of a dad has to say about that.”

Jamie reaches up to grab your wrist gently and brings your hand to his lips. “It matters what you think about me, though.” He whispers, eyes softening as he looks at you. “Please don’t leave.” he says, pitifully.

“I won’t. I’ll comfort you how I do.” You say, but Jamie shakes his head.

“No. I mean…don’t...leave. You haven’t been around in a bit and I know I probably sound ridiculous but it feels like you’re slipping out of me grasp. And I can’t handle that.” You look at him, slightly shocked. Of course, Jamie was one of your best friends. But the touches and slight kisses you shared made your head spin. You were convinced he was just loving, being his usual flirty self. Could he actually harbor feelings for you? When you don’t answer right away, Jamie sits up straighter, trying to put distance between the two of you.

“Jamie.” You say firmly, reaching out to catch his hand. “I’m not going to leave. Okay? I’ll always be here for you, I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. The ramp up to this big match has me constantly in the therapy room.” You scoot closer to Jamie again, placing your other hand on the side of his face, leaning in to give his jaw small, soft kisses. “Please don’t feel like you need to feel ridiculous about needing me.”

Jamie takes this opportunity to turn his head and capture your lips onto his, holding the back of your neck, his other arm snaking around your waist as if his life depended on it. When he pulls back, you both take a moment before opening your eyes, smiling softly at each other. “I feel ridiculous because I know I care about you as more than a friend. And that’s why I’m afraid of you leaving.”

You lean in to kiss his temple, his cheek, and finally, the inside of his wrist that was resting near your head. “I’m not going anywhere. And I will definitely always support you.” You gaze at him lovingly. “Thank you for trusting me to comfort you.” You say, reaching out to brush a strand of his beautiful hair off his forehead.

“I know we’ll be in me hometown for this match, but having you there feels like home. You feel like me home.” Jamie whispers, blushing slightly at this confession.

You can’t help it, the next thing out of your mouth is “I love you more than anything.”

Jamie is taken aback, but you can tell how pleased he is by the grin that’s appearing on his face. He lets out a breathless laugh, just pulling you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, your forehead, and your face, muttering “I love you too” into your ear, over and over. Nothing felt impossible if he had you, and his chest felt like a weight had been lifted, and for the first time in a few weeks, he felt more like himself than ever.

So, there you stayed. Hugging each other and relishing in each other’s presence with the knowledge that you were each other’s homes.

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x y/n #romance fanfiction #comfort trope #jamie deserves the world

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starlazergazer · 2 years

Text

I’ll Make it up to You

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Request: Can you do a fic where Anakin and the reader get into a fight and he says something bad or man and gravels after?

Warnings: Just Anakin being mean

Word count: 5.5K

A/N: I was so excited to write this one!! Thanks to the lovely @katebushesbush for requesting I hope this is something similar to what you were thinking and enjoy it, than you so much for your kind words!!

You had to admit just seeing him smile back at you, even through hologram, made you feel better. And you hated yourself for it. Because you didn’t deserve to feel better, because you had left your clone captain behind. Not by choice of course, but ultimately did that matter? The effect was still the same.

“Hey are you even listening?” Anakin’s amused voice snapped you out of your thoughts prompting a tired groan to slip past your lips.

“I’m sorry Ani”

“Don’t be” He chuckled, “tell me what’s going on”

“It’s Ace” you dropped your head into your hands defeatedly “Last mission he was captured”

“Captured?” You watched Anakin slip into mission mode, his posture straitening and his arms coming up to cross over his chest “so he’s still alive?”

You nodded in response, drawing your knees up to your chest as you rested your back against the wall, sitting on the floor of your room “They transmitted a recording…offering his life for mine”

Anakin’s jaw visibly clenched at this, his hands balling into fists as he huffed angerly “Of course they did”

“Yeah” you sighed softly, resting your head back against the wall, refusing to say what you were sure Anakin could see coming.

“No”

That was all he said, admittedly all he had to say. His voice had dropped an octave, his gaze darkening as he stared back at you and even though he was planets away it was as if he had caused the temperature in your own room to drop.

“Anakin it’s my fault he is there”

“It doesn’t matter” Anakin was quick, his voice coming out restrained and quiet as he tried to keep himself under control.

“It does!” you protested “They’re torturing him”

“And you’re just going to what? take his place?” He asked, bits of venom dripping off his words.

“I can get him out”

Anakin froze on the spot, you could see him try and bite down the first words to spring forth, to think through what he wanted to say before he said it “You want to go and rescue him?”

“Of course I do!” You exclaimed

Anakin shook his head with an exasperated eye roll, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation before squaring his shoulders once again with a deep breath “and what does the council say?”

You rolled your eyes back in response “since when have you been one to listen to the council?”

“Since it meant you weren’t running blindly into what is so clearly a trap!” He let his voice rise just a little too loud this time, rapping on a nearby metal door making him run an anxious hand through his hair as he swore beneath his breath “Look just don’t do anything until I get back”

“He’s being tortured Ani” You had hoped the nickname would lend you some help in persuading him, using a pleading tone as well, pulling out of trick you could. But of course it had no effect.

The knocking sounded again on his end, vaguely you could hear Obi-wan call his name eliciting another string of swear words “I mean it Y/N do not do anything without me, I’ll be back in just a few days”

Admittedly you had never been one to say no to Anakin, and he was hardly one to ask for a lot. But as they say: desperate times…

“Duty calls”

Anakin shook his head at you, his gaze snapping back towards the knocking sound before snapping desperately back to you “Please Y/N”

And that was all he said before hanging up, leaving you alone on the floor of your room.

A knock on your own door sounded and slowly you stood to answer it, a clone trooper in armor standing on the other side.

“Are you ready to go general?”

You nodded.

Normally the ride home was the easy part. It was the promise of a full night’s sleep, the end of threats to your life, a sense of accomplishment if you were lucky.

And this time you were. Admittedly the mission had gone far from smooth, but everyone was still alive, most having sustained only minor injuries at worst, and Ace was back. And ultimately that was all that mattered.

You had a funny feeling that wasn’t how Anakin was going to see it.

And precisely because of that you felt worse now that you were landing than when you had taken off.

So it was with hesitant steps that you descended the ramp, doing so last in all attempts to delay the inevitable.

And even from across the hanger your eyes met his immediately. At first his were wide and panicked causing you to mentally chastise yourself for exiting last, the anxiety you must have forced on him to have to wait to see if you were okay. But then his expression changed to one of pure relief, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he seemed to relax upon being able to fully take in your physical state. And for a brief moment your heart swelled, hope rose within you that maybe this wouldn’t be a fight, that maybe he would just be happy that you were alive.

But of course this was Anakin Skywalker you were talking about.

In a fraction of a second his whole expression had hardened, his arms had tightened over his chest as every muscle in his body seemed to tense. Wordlessly he gestured with his head towards the nearby hallway before disappearing down it himself, clearly intending for you to follow him.

“You know I may actually be on his side with this one” Ace’s voice from over your shoulder surprised you, spinning around to meet the familiar clones eyes “you shouldn’t have come after me”

You just shook your head in response, crossing your own arms over your chest before he continued “but I sure am glad you did”

You turned back to stare at the spot Anakin had once occupied, “I’m not going to apologize for rescuing you, I still say it was the right call”

Ace was silent behind you for a moment before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze “thank you general”

You knew exactly where Anakin would want to meet. It was a mostly empty storage room the two of you had found ages ago, the perfect spot to waste time as you hid from your masters back in your padawan days. Never before had you struggled so much to cross its threshold.

You knew Anakin could feel you on the other side of the door as you just stood there trying to calm yourself.

Because there was of course panic that was rising within you. Anakin was your best friend, has been since you were both younglings, and you always hated when you fought. But another emotion was also stirring in your chest: anger.

Because ultimately was it fair for Anakin to be mad at you? You did not owe him anything he was in no way involved in any part of Ace’s capture and escape so what right did he have to demand you sit around and wait for him. You were perfectly capable of rescuing him yourself.

But anger was not good right now, anger was not how you approach an angry Anakin, you cannot fight fire with fire.

So with a deep breath you pushed everything down and entered the room, coming immediately face to face with a very pissed off Anakin Skywalker.

He was silent for a moment, silent for perhaps too long, as he stared down at you, and it was all you could do to try and not shrink under his gaze. Doing your best to maintain eye contact.

“I asked you to wait”

His voice was clipped and restrained, disappointment and anger seeping into every word.

“I know”

You could hear your own heartbeat echo in your ears, forcing deep breaths.

“You know?” He dragged it out as a question, practically spitting the words back at you “then what are you doing getting off a ship with Captain Ace?”

“I couldn’t just leave him”

“A few days” Anakin practically cut you off with a shout “I asked for a few days that’s it”

“I am not your padawan” You were shouting before you could think to stop, sick of worrying what Anakin would think, sick of worrying about this fight, sick of having to consider Anakin’s feelings in a decision that objectively did not involve him. “You do not get to order me around as if I were”

“I do not ask you to wait because I think I can order you around” He was quick to return your energy, the hushed closed-door fight rapidly escalating to a screaming match “I ask you to wait because you cannot handle rushing into traps such as that on your own”

You physically recoiled at his words. Sure you knew he was angry for you having put your life in danger like that but to tell you he didn’t think you could handle it without him, that had to be crossing some sort of line. Your voice dropped back to a near whisper suddenly feeling yourself grow quiet and defensive “I got him back”

“This time!” Anakin’s voice was still at a shout as he put special emphasis on his words. His chest rising and falling rapidly with angry breaths as he stared down at you before turning his back to start pacing, anxious hands running through his hair as he did so.

“I am so sick of watching you make stupid decision after stupid decision to put your life in danger, to put your clone troopers lives at stake because you think you’re a better Jedi than you are”

You froze on the spot, your mouth hanging open slightly as you watched Anakin continue to pace, continue to mumble angrily to himself, continue on with the fight without noticing you were no longer really a part of it.

You had never been so caught of guard before. That was truly the best way to describe how you felt in this moment. You and Anakin had had fights before, he has been angry with you before for one thing or another, but never had he brought it to such a personal place before, and you had no idea what to do next.

You didn’t feel angry anymore, you didn’t feel scared anymore, all you felt was numb.

Anakin continued to pace before you, continued to rant but the ringing in your ears had long drowned out whatever he was saying.

And quite frankly you were tired of listening to him.

Anakin paced furiously back and forth but he could feel that his anger had come to an apex, could feel himself start to calm down with every trip back and forth across the room, with every sentence to pass his lips without thinking.

“You can’t keep treating your life as if it doesn’t matter”

His words had lost nearly all bite at this point his tone much more somber now than anything else.

“Because it does matter, and if it doesn’t matter to you then it matters to me okay?”

He’d finally finished, finally come full circle on his anger, finally the lid was back on the pot and he could really talk about why you walking into a trap by yourself bothered him so much.

He turned back to you, ready to face whatever wrath you had only to be faced with an empty space.

Curiously he scanned the rest of the small room, hesitantly calling your name as if you were going to pop out behind the one rack pushed up against the wall.

But he was alone, you had just left without saying anything which was unlike you. You knew Anakin struggled to contain his anger, knew he often blew up before being able to have an actual conversation, and never before had you wordlessly left as a result of it.

And it wasn’t till then that the full weight of Anakin’s own words hit him.

He couldn’t have really said that, could he?

Sure he was angry, he was downright furious, but he didn’t even think what he had said was true. He knew you were an excellent Jedi, you were about the only person at this point who could come close to beating him in a lightsaber battle, your connection to the force was unmatched and you were an excellent leader. So why had he said otherwise?

Because he wanted to hurt you.

That was what it came down to. Because you had hurt him.

The panic he had felt when he landed with Obi-wan, ready to see you once again and plan Ace’s rescue only to find out that you were gone, that you had played willingly right into the separatists’ hands, that he might never see you again.

And like usual he reacted in anger, wanting to hurt you has much as you had hurt him.

But at least you had a good reason to do so, he knows he would have done the same for Rex.

What reason did he have?

You really didn’t want to be here.

Sure that was usually true with these debriefing meetings but today it was especially true today.

You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and by much you meant any.

Anakin’s words were replaying over and over in your mind

you think you’re a better Jedi than you are

Was that true? Sure you thought you were okay with a lightsaber, but also you could hardly ever manage to beat Anakin. Your connection to the force was okay, you could always get what you needed to do done but was that enough? Did others have more? And that was before you even got started on your skills as a general. You had lost Ace. Even if you got him back it was your fault he was captured in the first place.

The entire room seemed to pause when Anakin walked in, him and Obi-wan sharing a small nod before Obi-wan went back to his debrief, before Anakin’s head turned to make eye contact with you.

You had never wanted to be able to disappear on the spot more.

You stared back at him blankly, refusing to show him any emotion, truthfully not having the energy to.

Maker you needed a nap.

You turned your attention back to the hologram in the center, ignoring him as he made a beeline for your side, ignoring him as he stood just a little too close.

His closeness had never bothered you before, though it was hard to miss. The way he stood or sat right next to you, his knee softly bumping yours, a hand falling naturally to your shoulder, it was the kind of closeness you had come to expect of him. But right now you couldn’t stand it.

You felt like you were drowning in his presence, unable to focus on anything but him. Your mind was a sea of every negative thought you had every had about yourself. Every doubt, every fear was rising to the surface and you struggled to breathe around them.

In the past Anakin had been the person to keep them at bay, a calm, subtle assurance that you were okay, that you were doing a good job, that you deserved to be there. Now he was the very person bringing them on.

“Hey are you okay?”

His soft words broke you out of your trance and suddenly you realized the meeting was over, everyone had broken into their own smaller groups for discussion.

And then you were looking up at Anakin who looked back down at you with such concern in his eyes that you almost believed him.

But then his words were echoing back through your head.

“Yeah I-uh”

His frown deepened as you stuttered through a response, his hand coming up to touch your arm and almost on instinct you stepped back. Reacted before your tired mind could even catch up.

And then his hand was frozen in midair, inches away from where your arm used to be. And he looked down at you with confusion and hurt and it was entirely too much.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t” You cut him off and you could hear the wobble in your voice as you fought so hard to keep it at bay.

You had to get out.

“Y/N please just let me-“

You cut him off again “Anakin don’t I just-I can’t do this right now”

“that’s okay” he was quick to assure you “I just-“

And still he tried to talk to you, even after you told him you couldn’t handle this right now. You searched desperately around the room, catching Obi-wan’s figure just before he was about to disappear through the doorway. “Master Obi-wan”

He spun around, pausing on the spot to face you, and your mind scrambled to come up with an excuse “I-uh-I have a question if you don’t mind”

The master’s eyebrows drew in confusion as his eyes bounced back and forth between yours and Anakin’s forms as he started to approach “of course not”

“No” You quickly stopped him, all but extracting yourself from Anakin as you walked back towards Obi-wan “that’s okay let’s walk and talk”

He sent a look back to his former padawan, clearly reading further into what was going on than you would really like but right now that didn’t matter, right now you just needed to get out.

And luckily Obi-wan happily obliged, nodding for you to exit through the entryway and following you through.

And once again you left Anakin alone, a hand still floating in midair before him.

You were right when you said you just needed a nap. Or maybe a full night’s sleep.

Nevertheless, you had to admit you felt much better than yesterday. But also you admit you still felt the need to clear your head. So naturally you sat beneath a tree on a grassy patch, legs folded beneath you as you meditated. And your thoughts, despite your best efforts, never strayed far from a certain Skywalker.

Parts of you were already jumping to his defense. His anger was something he had struggled with since you were both younglings and he wasn’t above saying anything he could to make the other person just as mad as he was.

But did that excuse him?

What he had said had struck deep into every insecurity you’ve ever had about being a Jedi. More than ever before Anakin had hurt you. That wasn’t just something you could make go away with a simple apology.

But you hadn’t really given him the chance to do so either.

You had almost missed his approach, so lost in your own thoughts, though your force sense reached out for his almost instinctively as he got close. And you let it.

He sat down next to you, careful to keep more of a distance than he would normally, and crossed his own legs joining you wordlessly in meditation.

And a part of you appreciated this more than anything else.

You could feel him wanting to say something, feel his eagerness to apologize, but right now that still wasn’t what you wanted. As if in contradiction to yourself what you wanted was just him. As if him simply existing next to you served as a reminder for why you were such good friends in the first place, why you truly wanted him in your life faults and all.

And yet on the same note you needed him to speak.

“It’s okay if you still aren’t ready to talk” His voice was slow and calm, of an almost rehearsed quality “you can tell me to stop at any point and I will listen”

Instead you stayed quiet, kept your eyes closed, accepting how childish you were being in refusing to acknowledge his pretense. Afterall, he deserved it.

Anakin took your silence as an invitation to continue “I just want you to know how truly, deeply sorry I am for what I said” he paused with a deep breath “those words came from a place of anger and fear and in no way reflect what I really think”

You let the silence that followed his words hang in the air, let Anakin choke for a little on the noose of his own making before speaking. “So how many times did you practice that in the mirror before coming to find me?”

There was a stunned silence that held for a brief moment before a relieved chuckle sounded, Anakin letting out a sigh as he looked back over to you. “More than I am willing to admit”

You let a small smile linger on your lips but gave him no more than that. Your gaze sat fixed on the ground in front of you, your posture remained rigid from where you sat, as you prepared yourself for what you were going to say next.

“What you said hurt me…really hurt me” You paused briefly, giving yourself a chance to collect your nerves “what you said spoke to every fear and every insecurity I have about my own performance. Every fear and insecurity that you used to dispel. So to hear that very person voice them as if it were fact” you could feel yourself start to spiral, feel the words coming out faster and faster as you continued to talk and you forced yourself to stop, “It hurt Ani”

Anakin could feel his chest caving in, could feel the shame and guilt wash over him as he listened to you talk, listen to how the words he had so carelessly thrown out had affected you. “I know” He sighed heavily, putting his face in his hands “I know and I’m sorry but Y/N, you have to know that it isn’t true”

“Then why would you say it?” At this you whirled around to face him, your voice coming out harsher than it had this whole conversation.

But at this Anakin had to hide his own gaze, had to break eye contact with you. He couldn’t look into your eyes as he admitted it “Because I was angry…because I wanted to hurt you like you had hurt me”

“hurt you?” You basically growled out, and you could feel the anger again start to build within you “I know I didn’t listen to you but come on Anakin, doesn’t that feel a little dramatic”

“It’s not just that” He defended “It’s-“ and he hesitated.

And you were tired of the anger, tired of the excuses, tired of having this same conversation over again.

“Look” You cut him off, standing to your feet “I’m on teacher duty for the unsanctioned mission to get Ace, I’ve got to go”

“Oh, okay” Anakin was quick to stand to his feet as well “Can I walk you there?”

“No” The word came out quick, before you could even think, much harsher than intended.

So you took a deep breath and fully turned to him, “Look I’m just- I’m tired of this Ani. I’m tired of being mad at you, I’m tired of having the same conversation over and over again, I’m just tired”

“I know” Anakin was quick to come back before you could turn away from him, hesitantly walking towards you “I know, I screwed up and I keep screwing up so let me make it up to you. I will make it up to you.”

You looked back at him unbelievingly, but he just nodded back with a small smile.

“So I’ll see you after class yeah?”

And despite everything you had to smile back at him, even if it was just in the corners of your lips.

“Okay”

“Alright does everyone have a practice stick?” You called out, watching as fifteen different wooden sticks were raised into the air in response. Fifteen wooden sticks and one familiar hand “You’ve still got a few years before you get to try it with a lightsaber Tommy” the hand was slowly lowered in response.

“Alright everyone spread out” you commanded with a chuckle “we’re going to practice stances before we spar and I don’t want you hitting anyone yet”

A collective groan sounded from the class before you and you rolled your eyes dramatically “I know I know but you all have to have these down before you can move on. Okay?”

You watched as obediently the class spread out, each kid dropping into a fighting stance just as they had practiced a hundred times before, ready to go through the steps, when a new presence in the door interrupted.

The kids erupted into a series of excited whispers and you followed their gazes to a sheepish Anakin Skywalker standing in the doorway.

“Jedi Skywalker what are you doing here?” You asked him with drawn brows.

“I’m your dummy” he answered quickly prompting the class to erupt in giggles.

“I-uh” You hesitated, looking back at the class confusedly though the younglings were all huddled together in a mass in the center once again, eyes bouncing between you and Anakin.

“Your practice dummy” Anakin clarified with a goofy smile “I heard we were doing lightsaber moves”

The kids all shouted excitedly; they were all a sucker for the cool older Skywalker. You on the other hand just raised an eyebrow at Anakin, silently asking him if he was sure.

Anakin just nodded eagerly in response, making a show to stand rigidly in front of you “its way better to practice on something other than air”

At this you turned back to the class with a mischievous smile “well okay then”

You took a few steps backwards from Anakin and lifted your own practice stick. “Move one we go for the leg” and you showed them a simple sweep towards Anakin’s shins, and though you pulled the hit quite a bit you had to admit the small whack you gave him in the side of his calf gave you a lot of pleasure.

“Then the torso” You followed with a small spin before hitting him softly in the side, Anakin giving a dramatic groan for the classes effect that had them laughing.

“Alright” you cast Anakin a wicked grin “who wants to go next?”

Fifteen hands shot up into the air.

You found Anakin afterwards in the same spot you had left him before class, strewn out on his back in the grass, eyes closed as he faced the sun.

Wordlessly you tossed him the ice pack you had brought him and though he had no reason to know you were there he caught it effortlessly.

He opened his eyes to inspect what you had thrown him before laughing, siting up with a soft groan “thanks”

You sat down next to him with a small smile, watching him apply the ice pack to his shins knowing the younglings went more for the body part they could more easily reach.

“You know I don’t think that is a lesson they will soon forget”

“Yeah me neither” Anakin responded with a soft chuckle, eliciting one from you in response.

“So was that making it up to me?”

“Oh no” he responded quickly with a wink “that was just phase one”

You had to laugh at that, enjoying how much easier it all seemed now, enjoying the lightness in your chest you hadn’t felt in days.

“I’m sorry I’ve been snapping at you recently”

“No I deserved it” Anakin replied with a shake of his head “what I said was horrible and I want to truly earn your forgiveness, and if that means you snapping at me for being an idiot or getting beat up by a bunch of 8 year olds then so be it”

You played with grass nervously in your hands as you smiled at his words. Appreciating the feeling of being free to feel however you felt without guilt. And though a part of you was ashamed to admit it you knew what you had to ask next.

“Do you really not think I’m a bad Jedi?”

His hand was on your shoulder almost instinctually and you could feel him hesitate seconds after he had done it, so you reached up and put your hand on top of his before he could pull back.

So instead he doubled down, squeezing your shoulder before pulling softly to get you to face him, forcing your gaze to his “I have never once thought that”

And you took a moment to really look back at him, staring into his eyes checking for any hint of hesitation, of deception, and found none.

As you knew you would.

Because this was Anakin, and for better or worse he was always there for you, maybe sometimes you just needed to be reminded of that.

“Yeah” You all but whispered, breaking eye contact and turning back away from him “yeah I know”

Anakin dropped his hand from you shoulder, letting you turn away from him, prepping himself for what was to come next. “I said it because I was angry, because I knew it would hurt you, hurt you as much as-“

“as much as I hurt you” you finished for him with a shake of your head, whirling back around to face him “I don’t get it. This was my choice, about my commander, about my life”

“And you’re my-“ He cut you off then froze. You sent him a puzzled look as you watched his chest rise and fall with quickened breaths, his eyes seemingly searching yours for something as he choked briefly on his next words “you’re my friend”

You drew your eyebrows together looking back at him “I don’t-”

“Your actions don’t occur in a vacuum Y/N” he sighed, eyes going down to his hands as he nervously played with a piece of grass “you know, having to hang up on you knowing that you didn’t listen to a word I said, knowing that I was half a galaxy away and couldn’t help you, couldn’t be there for you, knowing that I may never see you again. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do”

“Ani I-“

He cut you off again, still never looking up “Then to land know you weren’t on Coruscant it was like a pit growing in my stomach waiting on the bad news I could practically feel coming. Not because I doubted you in any way but because I couldn’t bring my mind from the worst case scenario”

You stayed silent, watching Anakin as he spoke, listening to him describe feelings you had never even considered in your decision to leave.

“Then your ship landed and every clone had exited the ship and for a brief moment you still weren’t there and I-“ he paused with a deep breath, dragging his eyes up to meet yours and you saw he wore a sad and defeated look, a look you did not see often on Anakin’s face “I can’t take that feeling again”

And though every part of you in that moment wanted to reach out to him, give him any sort of comfort, you knew this wasn’t over, not yet. “I don’t regret going after Ace”

“And I don’t want you to” Anakin was quick to respond “It’s just…sometimes it’s like you’re too eager to throw down your own life for the sake of others, as if you don’t value your own. I just wish you held your own life to the same esteem that you hold others’”

“That’s what a jedi is supposed to do right?” You answered softly, your voice remarkably small “sacrifice for the greater good”

“I refuse to believe any future that doesn’t include you can be any good”

A silence hung in the air between you for a moment, and for the first time in days it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, and you welcomed it gladly.

Wordlessly you scootched closer to Anakin and laid your head softly down on his shoulder and for a brief moment you felt him tense up before melting into the contact, and arm snaking around you to pull you in tighter.

“I’m sorry” you said softly into the breeze “I’m sorry for making you worry like that, I really didn’t mean to”

You could feel the deep chuckle in Anakin’s chest “No, I’m sorry. Regardless I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that”

“Or doubted my abilities for even a moment?” You prompted with a smirk sending another chuckle through Anakin.

“Or doubted your abilities for even a moment” he agreed with a soft smile “thinking back on it maybe I should’ve been worried for the separatists”

“Oh no they deserved it, nobody messes with what’s mine”

“With what’s yours huh?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke “does that include me?”

“Oh absolutely” you answered quickly in mock seriousness “Obi-wan’s gonna have to watch himself he’s this close to getting drop kicked”

At this Anakin threw his head back in laughed, sending the both of you onto your backs, basking in the sunlight “I’m going to tell him you said that”

“nooo he’d beat me up”

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #skywalker imagine #skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #skywalker x you #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars x you #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 months

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Naughty or Nice - Chapter 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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sev-on-kamino · 6 months

Note

Beloved Sev! A new smut prompt for youuu!

❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜

😌😌

Luv uuuu

My darling Pineapple, Ilysm!!! This prompt is divine, and I hope you enjoy it ❤️🤍 I had to go with Flicker for this one. He’s just so cocky and bratty. The prompt is in red!

Warnings: thigh riding, light bondage, fooling around in an alleyway, dirty talk, Flicker 👀 MINORS DNI

Word Count: 472

Dividers by my fave @dystopicjumpsuit

Song: from my 79’s playlist

The wall at your back was rough, biting at your skin through the thin material of your shirt, but you stopped caring shortly after Flicker had pushed you up against it.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be planetside,” he said, breathlessly between kisses. He tasted like cheap booze and candy he probably stole from Fox.

“Wanted to surprise you,” you moaned, as he easily parted your legs with an armored thigh. The ridge along the center pressed against your core, and you rolled your hips automatically.

“That’s it, mesh’la,” he purred against your lips, as one hand gripped the back of your head and the other found your hip.

“Missed you,” you said breathlessly, as the two of you moved against one another in a languid rhythm like you weren’t in an alleyway.

“Missed you too,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips, before nipping at your bottom lip.

“Can we…go back to my place?”

“Come first,” he ordered, releasing your hip, and using his teeth to tug one of his gloves off.

"Flicker," you whined, even as you gripped his shoulders and rocked your hips against his thigh.

"Mesh'la," he parroted back with a smirk, as his bare hand slipped up the front of your shirt to tug your breast band down. His nimble fingers circled, brushed, and pinched one of your nipples.

A moan rose out of your throat before you could stop it. You moved to cover your mouth, but the sergeant caught your wrists in his free hand pulling them up and holding them above your head against the wall.

"I don't think so," he chided playfully. "I wanna hear you. Every...single...sound."

He licked his lips as he took in the sight of you completely at his mercy. His to please and enjoy.

"Keep working those hips. I mean it, not leaving til you come for me," he said, stealing a heated kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

You complied, grinding against his thigh, growing more vocal as you got closer and closer to your climax.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked as his name flowed past your lips amidst a plethora of colorful swears and groans of desire. "I can't hear you over all that noise you're making."

He slid his hand down your body, and reached around to grab your ass, and move you over his thigh.

With one final mewl of bliss, your pleasure crested like a wave, leaving you to fall apart in Flicker's grasp.

"You sound so good when you come for me," Flicker praised, releasing your wrists to cup your face once more.

"Apartment now?" You asked, reaching up to cup his face and draw him into a soft kiss.

"You got it. I want you to do that again on my cock when we get there."

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @mooncommlink @1vlouds @moonlightwarriorqueen @starqueensthings @dangraccoon @idoubleswearimawriter @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @dreamie411 @nunanuggets @foodmoneyandcats @cdblake1565 @eternal-transcience

#seven answers #seven writes #oc: flicker #oc: sgt. flicker #clone oc #clone wars oc #oc x reader #clone oc x reader #not safe for costco #not safe for the bart #not osha compliant #not osha approved #spicy prompts #x reader #reader insert #corrie guard #corrie oc

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subject-v · 8 months

Text

First Time

tw: cutting, blood, restraint, manipulation, mind control, cult

2300 words

“Stop, please! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Ah shoot, sorry.” The boy drops his scalpel like it’s gone red hot. It clinks awkwardly onto the linoleum floor next to my leg, catching the light from a nearby rune.

Confused, I blink up at him. I don’t have many other options, in terms of body language, at this point, with my hands chained above me, close enough I can brush my pinkies against one another, and my legs splayed on either side of the new kid, the pants damp with the humidity and my own blood. Nice cell, as far as they go, but the tile floor’s a real germ trap and even after a quick wash the night before, most of my blood is still congealed on my body.

“I-I’m sorry.” He picks up the scalpel with trembling fingers. “I didn’t mean to drop that. Let me try this again.”

He places the tip of the blade against my skin, then holds it there without enough pressure to draw blood while he consults a piece of paper, creased all over from a million folds and written in cramped handwriting. Did he… did he write down what he plans to do to me? What kind of serial sadist is this? “I’m just going to give you a few cuts,” he murmurs, at last leaning onto the blade and carving a line down my arm.

I don’t mind the hot flash of pain—much—but he was so funny the first time so I make my eyes roll back in my head and crack my voice. “P-please!” The sound echoes in the lofty space.

“I could concentrate better if you didn’t speak.” Another line joins the first. He’s close enough I can lean forward and see the piece of paper that’s so enthralled him, including the shape he’s drawn there: a name, I think, maybe two. That’s hardly unusual. I’ve have names carved into me in writing systems that don’t even exist anymore.

I change tact. “What are you going to do to me?”

Serial killers, they like that question. Puts you completely in their power, strokes their egos, the whole nine yards. The boy, though, and I can’t imagine he’s over twenty years old, not with hair that floppy and poorly styled, doesn’t react with pleasure or even annoyance that I’ve spoken. Instead, doubt flickers across his face, and then he blushes, a little red to his cheeks that I would’ve missed if the dungeon lights were but a shade dimmer. “I’m going to hurt you a little bit,” he says, tongue between his teeth as he finishes carving his shape into my arm. He’s not practiced at this and the wounds are all different levels of deep.

“Why? I never hurt you.”

“Because I want to.”

He looks like he’d rather be locked in a room somewhere putting together a two thousand piece jigsaw puzzle but hey, sometimes you’re chained to the dungeon wall, sometimes you’re doing the chaining, it’s all about rolling with the punches.

He stands, tugging at the chains above me so I’m forced to my feet, leaning heavily when one foot goes completely to sleep. You’d think that would be less painful than the still-bleeding wound on my inner arm, but you’d be wrong. Knives have a beauty to them, a finesse that simple circulation lacks. “Okay.” He says it like he’s psyching himself up. “I’m going to… I’m going to hit you, I think.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” It just slips out. Look, the first couple sadists leave an impression and after that, I stop grading on a curve. He wants me intimidated, he should be more intimidating.

It irks him, though. He tugs down the bottom of his shirt and straightens. “Yes. I’ll… I’ll beat the backtalk right out of you.” Given it takes him thirty seconds to figure out how to put the brass knuckles on, I don’t exactly have high hopes. Plus, his posture’s all off. After he punches me once and nearly throws himself into the wall, he switches to a cane and sort of whacks at my ankles.

In a better mood, I might try to dodge, but he’s so weak, he’s not going to break anything. “I’m your first, aren’t I?”

“Shut up.” He gets the cane caught between my legs—I swear I wasn’t even trying to get in the way—and drops it.

“Here I thought I’d be the one kneeling at your feet.” He glares daggers up at me, costing him precious time padding about for his cane. “While you’re down there, you could give the ol’ boots a good lick, eh?” I’m barefoot and wiggle my toes a bit to prove it, but he shoots up like someone fired him out of a canon.

“I will never bow to you.”

I pout. “Whatever you say, big dog.”

The anger makes his beating, if anything, more sporadic. I think the wall’s in more pain than me when, panting, he takes a step back to surveil me. “That felt better, I think. They’re right, it can feel good.”

“Who’s right?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If you tell me, I will show you how to use a cane to properly cause someone pain.”

“Like you’d know,” he sneers, mopping sweat off his brow. The cane’s about to fall from his hands unless he takes a rest, I figure, and he concurs, slumping to the floor well out of reach and going for a water bottle. Proper hydration: very important for the enterprising serial sadist.

Though now that I’m here, I’m beginning to doubt the serial part of that title. So much for ridding the city of its serial killer on the first try, huh? If Archer beats me to a win by going the legal route, I’m going to throw myself into the ocean.

After a bit of R&R, he’s ready for another go, but it’s cautious interest I see in his eyes. “Well?” he demands, tapping a foot. The arms crossed could be a good look, but he should’ve put the cane down first. “Tell me, then.”

“First tell me who they is.”

His eyes narrow but he’s never taken a negotiation course—such courses generally indicate that the party who is chained to the wall has less bargaining power—because he folds right away. “The other Mu-9s.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“You said you’d teach me.”

“All right, then. You see that table?” I have to nod towards it, my hands being where they are. “It’s for strapping people to.”

“It’s too short.”

“Au contraire. It’s not for waterboarding, it’s for foot torture. Move it over here. Yep, until it’s touching the wall, good. Okay, let’s see if I still have the abs for this.” I clench my fingers around the manacles and haul myself up and sideways, half over the table. He sees what I’m trying to do and helps me the rest of the way, still holding the cane even after it bops him in the forehead. “Now you’d traditionally strap my ankles to the corners.” What a relief, not to have to stand anymore. When I get a choice, I’ll sit through a torture anytime, even if the table feels kind of rickety. As an added bonus, I’ve earned a little slack in the arm chains, so I could feasibly start unlocking them, were I inclined. “The feet have as many nerves as the hands do and unlike other parts of the body, they don’t acclimate to repeated beatings, so the hundredth lash hurts as much as the first. You want to strike closer to the arch than the heels or toes, and at an angle. Yes, hold the cane like that. And then twist all the way around and think about activating your stomach muscles as you-ah! Yeah, like that.”

At my cry, his grip loosens and he almost drops the cane again. This kid, I swear.

“You need to be careful with foot torture. I can walk on anything that isn’t broken but regular folks, any more than fifty or so and they won’t be able to walk on them. You also always want to-ah, yes. Thank you for that. You want to make sure-ow, see, that was my toe. Do you want to break bones or do you want to cane me? Make up your mind, kid.”

His shoulders are heaving. For a second, I think he’s going to stab me with the blunt end of his cane but he takes a step back and composes himself. “I should know this,” he whispers. “I should understand this.”

I take a stab in the dark. “Is that what they told you?”

“They said evil people like me, we would like it. They told me… this was what I was made for.”

“You know what that sounds like?”

“No.” He looks up, all curious-like. Maybe twenty was an overly optimistic estimate for age.

“Sounds like someone is trying to mind control you.”

“What?”

“Just in general, if someone is telling you you’re evil, that’s a sign they’re manipulating you.”

“I am evil. I’m a Mu-9.”

“Ri-ight.”

“I-I’m hurting you! I cut my name into your arm!”

I glance at the wound. “Is that what it says? Niklo? Is that your name?”

“It doesn’t matter. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“I showed you the foot caning, didn’t I? Tell me about these people.” Since we’re settling down, now, I use the slack in my chains to unscrew the pin holding the manacles around my left wrist in place. Careful practice means I snag it before it can fall open. “They’re not Mu-9s, right?”

He whacks me again, on the knee, which is not how I showed him and doesn’t particularly hurt.

I make a few educated guesses, based on the size of the dungeon and how often he references a group of people. “You’re not the only or first one they’ve sent here to torture someone, right?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Mu-9s are, what? Some sort of torture school? And they’re letting you practice on the sorts of people no one will miss?” Torture schools are all the same—the grey sisters used to snag orphans and widows to practice on, if the dungeons ever got too empty.

“We’re evil.”

“Says who?”

His chin is wobbling as he collapses against the wall, fingers loose enough that the cane rolls away and clatters across the floor. “It’s a gene, right? The Mu-9 gene? It makes people sadists, psychopaths.”

We’re about to have a chat, so I stop holding the manacles shut and place my hands in my lap. “Do you know what a gene is?”

“It’s in your DNA.” If he’s noticed I’m no longer tied up quite so well, he doesn’t let on.

“A gene tells your proteins how to-tell you what. You ever folded paper to make an animal?”

Everyone in this city has; the cranes decorate every other street corner.

“A gene is like the instructions to make a paper animal. A single gene can’t make you a psychopath, nor can they create a world with embedded moral laws and a black and white system of ethics.”

“What?”

“‘Evil,’” I scoff. “What’s that mean? Who decides?”

“I guess I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Tell me more about these folks who are mind controlling you.”

“They tested us at school.” His gaze goes up and over my left shoulder. “They took all the Mu-9s away, said since we were evil anyway, we might as well put it to good use. I didn’t kidnap you. I didn’t even want a, you know.”

“I do not.”

“A woman,” he mouths. “I wouldn’t normally hurt a girl.”

I snort. How kind.

“They told me where to find you, gave me this.” He gestures at his bag of pain-inducing equipment. “Said I’d know what to do.”

“So you found a woman tied up in a dungeon and decided to carve your name into her arm?”

“They had us plan it first. The therapists, they ask us again and again. What would you do, if someone was in your power? And whenever I said I’d never hurt them, she says of course I would, I’m evil, what would I do? She wouldn’t stop asking so I made it up, I said I-I’d carve my name into their arm and then I’d beat them and she asked me again and again everyday until I had it memorized, and then she made me write it down…” Futily, he waves the paper in my direction. “Maybe I’ve done this before. I don’t even know.”

“I’m going to hazard a guess that this is, in fact, your first time.”

He starts to cry. You know what’s worse than a proper good caning? When people cry in front of you, and this culture says women are supposed to be all motherly and caring too, so I know he expects me to help him out.

Sighing, I say, “You’re most likely not evil. You are being mind controlled, though, so I’d recommend doing something about that.”

“I can’t leave. I can’t. They said… they said if I left, the regs would kill me. They can see what I am.”

Fuck me, it’s a cult situation, isn’t it? A torture murder death cult. Just my luck. “Uh huh.”

“This is the only thing I’m good at,” he whispers, standing again and going for the cane. “If I can’t show them I’m good at this, they’ll make me leave and the regs will burn me alive. I need to be good at this.”

“If—”

“And you,” he snarls, “need to shut up.”

I mime zipping my lips. He realizes, for the first time, that my hands are free. I’d like to say the beating I got in punishment was nice, but it was average at best, and I could’ve done without the angry tirade. He leaves me an hour later, bruised and bleeding, still sitting on that wobbly table, but I see a logo on the wall outside before he shuts the door: SomatiCorp.

Cult victim convinced he needs to become a sadist to survive, windowless dungeon with gross tile floor, and a company name in camel case.

I can work with that.

#whump writing #whump #comedic whump #five #master teacher #tw blood #tw restraints #tw cult #tw manipulation

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Text

Learn your lesson

A/N: Have a thot for Chris Evan’s birthday. Can be read alone or as a follow-up to Language.

Check out my master list and the series master list

Beta’d by @christywantspizza

Mood board by me (Chris Evan’s hands pic by @riricitaa)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

WC: 1.5k

Pairing: Mean Dom! Steve x Brat! Reader

CW: Fingering, Swearing, Degradation, Praise, Spanking, Pussy slapping, Rough (unprotected) P in V sex, Fingers in mouth, Cream pie, Secret workplace romance.

“Oh, fuck!”

Your fingers scrabbled for purchase on the desk. Papers and pens fell to the floor, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the pair of thick fingers slowly pushing in and pulling out of your sopping cunt and the broad hand between your shoulder blades holding you flat to the wooden surface.

Hot breath fanned across your ear.

“What have I told you before about your language, sweetheart?”

Steve’s teeth nipped at your earlobe and your eyes rolled back in your head as he curled his fingers inside you, dragging the rough pads across your g-spot. Your legs trembled and you were thankful for the desk holding you up.

The hand on your back slid up and around, grasping your chin and pulling your body upwards, the back of your head resting against his collarbone.

“Don’t ignore me. Answer your Captain. Or have you gone completely dumb already?”

Your mouth was slack, but somehow you managed to form some words.

“Sorry. Captain.”

“What are you sorry for?”

His fingers slowed down to a languous drag and you could feel your walls fluttering around them.

“For apparently not being fucking loud enough. Couldn’t you hear me, old man? Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck!”

He shoved you back down with a growl, pressing between your shoulders once again, stopping you from moving. His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet squelching sound and you mewled at the empty sensation.

“I can’t believe that even after your last lesson you still haven’t learnt anything.”

You heard the jangle of his belt buckle being released, and like a bell causing a pavlovian response, you felt yourself get wetter.

“If I remember correctly, Captain. Your language wasn’t much better during that lesson…”

CRACK

His large palm smacked down on your ass cheek, sending delicious sparks of pain through your body.

“You just can’t help yourself can you? You need a firmer lesson this time?”

The next sound was the metallic drag of his zipper being lowered, and it took all of your willpower not to wiggle back; You didn’t want him to know how absolutely desperate for this you were.

His cockhead slid through your folds and you gasped, a sound that quickly turned to a cry as he pressed forwards, sinking into your wet heat. The stretch and accompanying burn was almost completely overwhelming and you throbbed around him.

“Steve!” His name was a whine as it left your mouth.

CRACK

“That’s not who I am, sweetheart. You might not be able to keep your mouth clean, but you can at least remember that.”

You dragged air into your lungs with ragged breaths, dizzy, just from the feeling of being full of him. The hand that he’d been using to spank you slipped around your hip, between your folds and started to draw lazy circles on your engorged clit.

“Captain… please.”

He chuckled, a sound that you knew was a prelude to further sexual torment.

“Oh, there she is. My polite girl. So nice to me now that you want to cum.”

He yanked you up again, his fingers pressing into the hinge of your jaw on each side.

“But I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

His voice was a low hiss, further punctuated by a slap to your pussy and you jerked in his hold, unintentionally moving yourself up, and then back down his rigid length, where it was buried inside you. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes and saliva started to pool in your mouth from where Steve was holding it open.

He was still holding himself still inside you, his hips pressed up against your buttocks and you couldn’t help but clench your walls. Everything was feeling deliciously foggy.

Steve’s hand left your drenched cunt and he pushed two glistening fingers into your open mouth, wiping them over your tongue. You tried to close your lips around his digits, but his other hand on your jaw wouldn’t allow it - the best you could do was move your tongue over them, licking your own juices from him.

That’s when he started to move, pulling back his hips and pistoning them into you, holding you immobile with both hands on your face. Your own hands took hold of his forearms where they were pressed against your chest, needing some way of holding yourself up. The only sounds you could make were wet burbles and gasps as Steve viciously fucked you, and you loved it. You could feel your cunt getting wetter and wetter, and you knew Steve could feel it too.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Love this tight little cunt. Being so good for me now. Shh, shh, take it. Take it. Good, fucking girl.

Steve’s filthy mouth, your garbled moans and the slapping sound of skin on skin came together to make one erotic symphony. Your legs shook and you could feel the tightening coil within your abdomen; so close, but yet still so far.

You couldn’t speak, Steve’s fingers too far inside your mouth, but you whimpered and rolled your hips back against Steve’s rough thrusts, hoping he’d pick up on your desperation. Luckily for you, the Captain was nothing if not perceptive. He yanked his soaking fingers from your mouth, bringing them down on your pussy with a wet slap, although far gentler than previously. The hand on your jaw eased as you squeaked out at the impact.

“Does my little brat think she deserves it now?”

“Captain! Please! I’ll be good… need to cum. Please.”

You no longer cared how pathetic you sounded, your visceral need for pleasure was taking over your brain.

Steve didn’t reply to your entreaties, just growled in your ear again, before swiping his fingers across your clit, and placing those that had been on your jaw in your mouth.

“Gotta keep this mouth filled with something, don’t I?”

Now that your jaw wasn’t being held open, you closed your lips around his fingers, sucking on them eagerly. You keened around them, as he played with your clit and you barely noticed he’d stopped fucking up into you, as you’d subconciously taken over the movement, rolling your hips and getting yourself off on him.

“So fucking filthy. So fucking cock drunk, so needy, you gotta fuck yourself on me. But that’s okay. Once you cum you’ll be all relaxed and pliant, and I can use you like my own little cock toy. Pump you full of my cum til it’s leaking outta you.”

He pressed his fingers further into your mouth as he pressed down harder on your clit. You let out a noise part way between a lustful moan and a gag. Your thighs burned as you moved your hips up and down, but you didn’t dare stop; you could feel your orgasm nearing. Tears rolled down your face and Steve turned your head so he could lap and kiss a few of them away.

“Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was gentler now. “Take what you need. That’s it, I can feel you trembling. Cum for me, yeah. Cum for me, like the good girl I know you can be…”

You crested on a cry, your cunt clenching around him. With one set of fingers still working your clit, Steve pulled the others from between your lips and bent you back over the table, restarting his rough thrusts as he chased his own pleasure.

You were back where you’d started, trying to find purchase on the smooth wood.

“Gimme another. Be a good girl. Fuck!”

Whether it was a second orgasm, or just a continuation of the first one, you didn’t know, but you cried out again, the wave of pleasure rushing through your body. Steve throbbed inside your tight channel, flooding you with warmth as he came.

For a couple of breaths, he rested against you, and you dragged much needed air into your lungs, before he pulled out of you, causing the pair of you to moan as he did so.

Pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck, he tugged on your skirt, that was bunched up at your waist, pulling it down over your ass, hands smoothing the fabric as he did so. Pulling you upright, he gently turned you to face him, and he straightened out your blouse, tucking it back into your skirt. Next, his hands cupped your face and he kissed you gently, large thumbs wiping away the remains of your tears.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile.

“I’m fine, Steve. But you still need to sign that paperwork.”

He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, before letting go of you to scoop the various papers, and your panties, from the floor. The latter he shoved in his pocket before shuffling through the stack of papers briskly, in order to find the one he needed. You passed him a pen as you righted the pencil pot you kept on your desk. He flashed you a grin before scrawling his messy signature across the dotted line.

“There, another boring report signed off.”

Your lips twitched.

“Without boring reports we wouldn’t have an excuse to see each other.”

“I’d think of one. I need you too much. And besides, who else would keep that mouth of yours in check?”

“I’m sure some fucker or other would…”

Steve growled and you smiled.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mean dom! Steve Rogers #dom steve rogers #bratty reader #late writes #late to the party 81

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Note

Hi! May I please request 🚕 10 with Obi-Wan? Thank you!!

— yes! ofc you may! i hope you are okay with the ‘period’ sickness way i took this, i have my period rn and needed some obi wan comfort 😭

— prompt:

🚕 10. first time being sick/them being sick around each other

— warnings: mention of periods, swearing, vomiting, cramps :(

[grippingbeskar’s 2k night out celebration!]

“Please. Don’t come in.” You sigh, voice ringing out from where your head hangs over the toilet bowel. You had been so in and out all day— waking up only to puke and cry about the cramps seizing your lower stomach, only to pass out again, that it had completed slipped your mind that you had a meeting with the council today.

What hadn’t slipped your mind, something you were painfully aware of now that he knocked on your door, was that Obi-Wan had asked to come and see you first. You only had limited time with each other— both of you needing to keep this thing that was going on between you as low profile as possible. It was confusing— but honestly, a long time coming, but whatever it was, it did not mean you wanted him to see you like this.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen today? I read the report on the way here— I didn’t see your name.” Of course, he knew you were meant to also attend the diplomatic conference with Naboo this morning, which you missed, too busy hurling up whatever remained in your stomach.

“I’m—“ You spluttered, coughing against your will, throat sore from the endless day behind you. “I’m sick. Just… you don’t want to see me right now.”

“Sick? Do you wants me to call a medical droid?” You already had. There was nothing they could do, really— this wasn’t the kind of sick they could heal. This was normal for you, every month you spent the first day or two of your period like this, but it’s never affected your work before. Never caused you to miss a meeting with the council, of all people. All the medical droid did was give you something for the pain, and a sedative so you could at least get an hour or two of sleep.

“It’s… not that kind of sick, Obi-Wan.” You expected him to back away, or be at least awkward enough to leave you alone, even though you wanted the exact opposite. You just couldn’t bare the embarrassment, really, of making him feel uncomfortable. You heard no receding footsteps, and if he hadn’t spoken you would of thought you were alone.

“Let me help you.” He spoke softly, words making your eyes flutter open with how much care he spoke with.

“You really don’t have to. I know you want to go to the meeting—“

“Stars, no. It would be terribly boring without you.” Even when you feel like your insides are shredding themselves, he makes you smile. “Besides, there is no where I would rather be than with you.”

“Even if I puke on you?” You can hear him laugh on the other side of the door, and you use your last remaining energy to unlock the door through the Force.

“Even then, darling.” Stepping into the room, he immediately comes to your side, his warm hand skating along your exposed spine, rubbing it soothingly. “What can I do?”

“That.” His hand stills for a second, and then resumes drawing aimless patterns on your back. “Feels nice.”

“Lets get you off the floor. Bed sounds nice too, doesn’t it?” You hand’t realised how tired you were until Obi-Wan began to lull you to sleep, a subconscious part of you not able to let your guard down until he was next to you.

He supports you as you stand, wrapping his arms around your waist more than he needs to, but you don’t dare say anything to him. Not that you could walk on your own, or that now you’ve thrown up you’ve already started to feel a bit better. No, you just stay quiet and lean into his touch, the warmth of his body like your own personal heat lamp.

“You want to change?” He looks down at your pyjamas, and you just shake your head, wanting to be buried under the covers with him in the next three seconds.

“Just want you.” You hum groggily, and your eyes start to flutter closed the second he lays your head on the pillow. You are afraid to ask him to stay with you— and even more afraid he would say no. You hadn’t done anything like this with him before, and the thought of him leaving you right now seemed to hurt worse than the cramps.

Before you can say anything, or overthink anymore, his body is pressing firmly against yours, encouraging your leg over his waist and your head nuzzles into his chest. The positioning keeps the warmth of his body heat on your stomach, and the pain fades away wherever he is touching you, which is everywhere.

“Sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Your eyes close, and your fingers dig themselves further into the complicated fabric of his far too formal robes, knowing he was telling the truth.

#grippingbeskarsnightout #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobie x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan kenobi x reader

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alecjbi · 1 year

Note

"did you need help with that?"

ice catches mav with a hard-on

love this! went with a tg86 rivals thing for this one :)

884 words, explicit

drop a smut prompt in my inbox

Maverick threw his helmet down once he got on the tarmac, swearing at no one in particular. This hop was yet another bust— he couldn’t get along with any of his new RIOs. None of them were— well, he wouldn’t think about that. He couldn’t.

Stalking off the tarmac to the locker rooms, his head clouded with anger, he wasn’t aware of Iceman behind him until he was standing at the sink and saw the blond menace staring at him through the mirror. Maverick scowled and splashed water in his face, thankful for the way it toned down the anger which was far too close to a boiling point. He could feel his face heating, hot tears of frustration prickling at the back of his eyes.

Maverick raised his head again and met eyes with Iceman through the mirror. His gaze was cold, as always, unfeeling. Nothing could get to the Iceman, and Maverick was a disappointment. A distraction. Maverick didn’t fool himself in thinking he could ever be anything more.

“The fuck do you want?” he asked, pushing off the counter and stalking to his locker. Ice followed him, still silent. He was playing with his food, Maverick knew it. He should know better and not fall for the bait but he couldn’t help it. Ice needled at him in a way that Maverick didn’t know how to describe— didn’t know how to escape. “Come to laugh at me?”

Ice leaned against his locker and took Maverick in with a long, cool gaze. “I’m just wondering,” he said, as casual as could be, “what the fuck your problem is.”

Maverick couldn’t help but laugh. He opened his locker, rummaging in it for nothing in particular. He couldn’t look at Ice, not now. Not when he felt like such a fool. “I don’t know if you noticed, Ice,” he said, “but my life has changed a lot in the last few days.”

“That’s no excuse,” he heard Ice say and he gripped the locker until his knuckles were white.

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Maverick asked, slamming his locker and wheeling on Ice. Ice didn’t flinch, didn’t show anything besides a detached interest. Maybe amusement. Despite himself, a flash of warmth went down his spine, pooling low in his stomach. Maverick tried to tamper down the flush building in his cheeks.

“I want you to fight,” Ice growled. “I want you to stay mad. I want you to use that anger and fly like you’re not fucking incompetent.”

“You motherfucker,” Maverick whispered. But even then he couldn’t deny the way that he wanted the fight. He wanted the anger. It was a distraction from this emptiness that was consuming him, eating him away from the inside. It was the only way he could feel anything anymore.

“Call me what you want,” Ice drawled, looking down at Maverick, “but I know it’s what you want.”

“Shut up,” Maverick said, shying away from Ice’s gaze. It was too hot, too full of something he didn’t understand. He couldn’t stand under Ice’s gaze and pretend like it didn’t mean something. He could feel the steady heat pooling in his groin, like it had this entire conversation.

“You need help with that?” Ice asked, gaze purposefully dragging down to his crotch. This was a line they had never crossed before, one that Maverick didn’t know how to navigate. But everything else in his life had gone to shit, why not ruin it now?

Maverick surged forward, capturing Ice in a brutal kiss. Ice reciprocated immediately, slipping his hands into Maverick’s open flight suit. He probed his tongue against Maverick’s lips and Maverick allowed him entry, their tongues brushing together. It was hard, Maverick half thought that it would draw blood. He didn’t care. He wanted Ice to hurt like he did.

Ice slid Maverick’s flight suit half off and was soon sinking to his knees, calloused fingers slipping under Maverick’s underwear. Maverick gasped but laced his fingers through Ice’s hair, watching him through heavy lids.

Ice pulled down Maverick’s underwear, simply sitting back on his haunches and taking Maverick in for a moment. “Gonna do something about that?” Maverick asked, going for mean but his voice ending up breathy instead. Ice smiled coolly and let Maverick pull him forward until his cock was halfway in Ice’s mouth.

Ice never left his gaze the whole time. He kept eye contact as Maverick fucked his face, thrusting in and out, watching as spit and precome leaked out of the corners of Ice’s mouth. Ice swallowed around him, making low sounds just to egg Maverick on. Maverick thrust his hips forward and Ice’s eyes fluttered just a little bit, but he kept his gaze steady.

Soon enough, Maverick could feel his gut tightening, the inevitable sign that he was about to spill down Ice’s throat. He couldn’t give any warning besides forcing Ice’s head all the way to his body and coming down his throat.

Ice soon tugged on Maverick’s hands and pulled away, wiping his mouth. He stood up and finally broke their gaze, brushing past Maverick without another word.

“Get it together,” Ice said. Soon enough, the door to the locker room was closing and Maverick was left, wondering where they were supposed to go from here.

#askbox #my fic #icemav #icemav smut #top gun smut #top gun #top gun: maverick #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell

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spicysagittarius · 10 months

Note

MJ comes home after a really frustrating day, but thankfully, her best friend and roommate Peter knows exactly what she needs to relax 😏

This one's a little long, apologies!

“And then..oh, fuck, Pete, get this, then he said that Marcus wasn’t gonna get marked down, because it wasn’t him who’d dealt with the customer, even though she’s his regular and his mistake! I mean, how fucking ridiculous is that, right?” MJ groans, her head in Peter’s pillow as he rubs her shoulders.

“So ridiculous,” he muses. He really, really wishes he could focus right now, because it’s totally invalidating and rude not to, but…she’s wearing those shorts again. The ones made of thin cotton, the ones that don’t exactly cover her ass, and he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood with how much he’s trying to steer his focus away from it. He’s seen these shorts plenty of times; they do live together. He’s just never seen them this up close before. Just a brush of his hand away…

No. He can’t. And if he doesn’t manage to act normal right now, she’s gonna notice he’s…

“Peter?” Shit. She’s stopped ranting. He’s such a goddamn perv. Not to mention an awful best friend.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He tries to laugh it off casually, resuming his motions on her upper back. After a few seconds, he can tell he’s hit a point of tension because she fucking whimpers. The noise almost makes him jump. His cock throbs unfairly in his boxer briefs.

“Fuck, that’s so good…” MJ mumbles. He wants to hear that sound again.

He manages to shut the logical side of his brain off, no matter how stupid that might end up being, he doesn’t care. He’s just…he needs to…

Carefully, he shifts his hands a little lower and rubs deeply into her tense muscles near her spine. She sighs. “Pete, can you get under my shirt?” What? But before he has time to react, she’s reaching behind her to pull the bottom hem of her t-shirt up, up, all the way to her shoulder blades until the bare skin of her back is revealed to him. In plain sight. Oh, he could so die right now.

“Uh…yep. Yes. I can.” And then he’s touching bare Michelle skin and she’s mewling again and he might be totally off and literally such a pervert but he swears he can smell her? What else could that be? It’s not her perfume, or either of their sweat, or the lavender candle she’s lit in the kitchen past his bedroom door. No, it’s her. He can just tell. And she’s…she’s wet.

“Lower. Go lower.” It’s a sigh that falls from her lips and he doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. But even still, he manages to move his hands until they’re gripping her bare hips, just above the waistband of those fucking shorts.

And that’s when she startles him even more by saying: “Shit, I’m so turned on.” He hears her exhale in a laugh. “That’s normal, right? Sorry to make it weird.”

“No, no, not at all, that’s…that’s normal. I think.” He breathes, hoping he sounded convincing.

She turns her head to the side to meet his eyes. “Okay.” Her eyes remain on his as he continues his movements, even when she moans again and curses under her breath, she never breaks eye contact. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. The tension is so thick he feels suffocated, but maybe…maybe, he doesn’t mind.

Yeah, he definitely doesn’t mind, he decides about five minutes later when the shorts have been flung across the room and he’s slipping his fingers into her lacy panties to find that she’s just as wet as he figured. His spidey senses haven’t failed him yet. Michelle’s whining and spreading her legs even wider for him, grazing her hand across the tent in his gym shorts.

He’s even more sure of it when, another five minutes later, she’s tightening around his fingers as she falls off the edge, sobbing his name in release.

He doesn’t give her much time to recover. He should feel bad, and maybe he would, if she didn’t smell so fucking sweet, if he wasn’t aching with the need to taste her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s really sorry.

But most of him is just focused on yanking her panties to the side and burying his face between her legs, revelling in her shocked squeal and shuddering moan when he sucks her clit into his mouth. Between whimpers, she manages an amused, “Well, this is one way to…fuck..to destress.”

She’s goddamn right. And it’s decidedly the most effective.

#petermj #spideychelle #petermj fic #blurbs #petermj smut #peter parker x michelle jones

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tinymoonrider · 6 months

Text

Blue Moon — WIP

Summary: It's that time of year again... Do you think you can survive? He sure doesn't... Not without help at least...

Warnings: Yandere themes, Purge Themes, NOT PROOF READ AT ALL and it ends on a Cliff Hanger

The reader is Gender Neutral :)

A/N: This is an unfinished WIP that I was trying to get done for months now and haven't been able to. I wanted to publish it instead of just deleting it completely.

I do apologize for not being able to get it done. Hopefully you'll still enjoy it.

———02:06:34:08———

I tugged my jacket closer towards my body, my head turning down towards my feet. As I walked faster towards my building, I tried to ignore those on the streets harassing passersby. Unable to drown out the sounds of their chanting and prying questions, I look away from them. “‘Ey, don’t ya need some protection?” A man wearing a blue beanie and thick matching sweatshirt sidesteps in front of me, hands out in front of his chest to show me no harm. Shaking my head, I force a polite smile trying to evade his blocking body.

“Oh come on? I know where you live, I doubt you have any weapons that will actually protect you…” My lips drop as I force my way through. “I’m sorry, that’s… I didn’t mean it like that! I swear!” Walking faster down the street, I don’t look back at him.

Now in front of my building, I slip my card out of my pocket and across the reader. Wiggling my way through the rusted door with a groan, I carefully look around before continuing through. Once my body was finally in the safety of my building, I forced the door shut and straightened my clothes. Heading down towards the lobby, I spot the building manager, Mr. Faux wiping down the grey stained counter tops of the front desk. Looking up at me he smiles, eyes crinkling more at the gesture.

“(Y/n), how are you?” He stops wiping, his body straightening slightly.

I smile, “Doing alright. Still can’t fix the front door?” He shakes his head, blinking a couple of times.

“I called management, they said they’d send someone over…” Chuckling solemnly, I shake my head along with him.

“At this point, I’ll just call someone up. It’s getting ridiculous.” Mr. Faux laughs, his body shaking along with the movement.

“Don’t worry about it. My son can take care of it. That way no one has to pay for something so ridiculous… Have a good day alright, (Y/n)?” I nod, watching as Mr. Faux waddles away.

Heading up to the eighth floor, I walked down the empty hallway towards my unit, the flickering florescent lights above buzzing in an agitated manner. Getting into my apartment, I set down my things and started to prepare dinner. Washing my hands and gathering my ingredients, I stumble upon a yellow envelope pinned to the fridge, my name printed on the front. Dark blue, curly letters stretch along the paper, every swirl and curl drawing me in more and more. Taking it out of the clip I notice the red embossing sealing the letter shut. A small Delilah flower colored in black ink marks the waxy seal. Running my fingertips over it, each and every bump vibrates my skin faster and faster. Peeling it away from the paper, I carefully take out the contents and placed them down onto the counter in front of me.

The white stock paper a stark contrast to the red ink scrawled in the front in bold lettering. Based off of the way the ink sticks to the page, it was printed, not handwritten:

Dear (Y/n),

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you aren’t planning on participating in the events taking place on: March 21. Although it is your given right, granted by our New Founding Fathers of America, I do ask that you join us at La Belle’s @ 6:00 PM. Although any and all crimes are legal on this day, we do ask that you keep any and all weapons at home. The events taking place on this day will not be required. In fact, we wish to keep any and all patrons as safe as possible.

We do understand the possible fears and risks you may be having, especially on this day, but do know that we will ensure your protection. After all, your protection means our lives are protected as well!

At exactly 5:30 PM on March 21, a car with the license plate: AV2782 will be waiting for you at the back of your building. We do hope you will willingly join us as more details will be provided on the drive there.

——Koala

My eyebrows furrowed down to a singular line the more I kept reading. Biting back the noise that wanted to escape my throat, I looked around the room, a cold chill running up my spine. As I set down the letter, I take a peak inside the envelope, a sticker name tag with the picture of a small brown mouse was printed on the front. On the back it said, “Not to be put on until you have arrived at the event!” Putting it off to the side, I then pulled out a small bingo card with a random assortment of letters. Flipping it over two small shapes were burned into the back. Quickly placing all contents back into its original packaging, I rushed towards my room only to find Gus laying on the bed, eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey, you…” He grinned, his phone being thrown into his lap. “I see you found your letter,” sitting up he crawls over towards me. Pulling me closer, he traps me between his legs before trailing kisses up my arms and towards my sternum, his eyebrows raising, obviously waiting for some sort of answer.

“What?” My hands push against his chest for a moment as I try to create space.

“What was the letter about?” My gaze focuses onto his features for a moment.

“You weren’t the one who wrote it to me?” He shakes his head, concern creeping onto his features. Before he can say anything, I interrupt him, “Where did you get it?”

He shrugs leaning back on his forearms, “‘Was in our mailbox… Why?” He studies my features for a moment before sitting up, hands reached out towards mine, but not quite touching. “Something wrong? What was in it?”

I shake my head my nails scraping against my skin, “I think it was some sort of prank… It— It was about the purge…” He nods his head slowly. With a deep breath, he flashes me a charming smile.

“I’m sure it will be alright. The building will be on lock down… Do you know who it’s from?” Closing my eyes I take a deep breath.

“I don’t know. They called themselves Koala… There’s some sort of event taking place at La Belle’s… It starts at six.” When I open my eyes, Gus’ hazel ones peer at me from his spot on the couch.

“I’m sure that whoever is sending those letters are trying to trick people into become martyrs for ‘the holiday’.” His fingers scrunch up angrily at the words, “Just ignore it for now. There’s not much we can do about it anyway…” I nod.

“You’re probably right.”

Gus smiles up at me, his lips pressing a kiss against my stomach, “I’m going to start dinner. Go ahead and rest up.”

Mumbling out a “thank you,” I take Gus’ spot before flopping back onto the soft mattress. With the warm comforter wrapped around my body, I drift off to the noise of my blind’s rustling slightly.

————02:01:57:09———

Walking out into the bright living room, I searched for Gus, my eyes squinting slightly. Gus’ arms wrap around my body before I can process, his breath fanning against my neck and ears. Sharp tingles run through my body quickly as he pulls me closer towards him, a hum tickling my ears.

His head buries in the crook of my neck as he mumbles out, “How was your nap?” I nodded, leaning more into the warm embrace.

“Very, nice. Thank you for taking care of things for me.” He hums again as his fingers trace my back line.

I let him pull me towards the couch, fuzzy blankets with yellow ducks scattered along the fabric soon engulfs me. Cushions pressed along my sides, he leans into me, his hand running down my arms. Turning on the TV, the news flashes on screen. Two women in blazers sit behind a clear crystal desk, their papers and laptops sitting just off to the side, perfectly framing them in the middle. The one with a deep maroon blazer and black tight curls looks into the camera with such ferocity it shakes me. The other, with a much softer look placed onto her face, wears a soft blue blazer that compliments her skin perfectly. Their names slide on screen in front of them momentarily.

“Just as a reminder for all citizens and purge tourists: At seven o’ clock on March twenty first, all crimes, including murder will be legal. What an exciting day for us all…” She pauses, her fingers pushing back curls, “However our New Founding Father’s of America wants to remind everyone that any and all crimes committed on this day, although legal here, isn’t out there.”

Her partner chimes in, “That’s right Monica. Many countries around the world are appalled at our Purge practices every year as many of our citizens, including theirs, participate in such ‘barbaric acts’. From what our resources have been telling us, this also includes world wide illegal acts such as identity theft. Selling this information to hackers across the world, even if you are still in the country, is still illegal. You will be forced to hold up to these crimes if you do participate, so we all urge you to be safe. Be careful and may your deity—or lack thereof—be with you all on this upcoming holiday.”

Her partner Monica nods, “Thank you Lindsey. This brings us to our next segment; should the warning announcement be changed as not everyone believes in the same type of God, one God—as some faiths are polytheistic, or a God at all. What if it’s just a higher power or mantra? All of this and more, coming up next…” The screen fades to black as a commercial blinds us a moment later.

Gus snickers quietly next to me, his body shaking mine involuntarily. Looking at him, he shakes his head, looking away from me, “It’s nothing I promise. I just… I never thought things would end up this way…” A sad look takes over his features, body leaning heavier against mine, “I just wish she wasn’t taken from us. Had it not been… We thought it would work.” I nod my head.

“It’s not your fault you know. Things happen and nothing is fool proof.” My hand rubs his back as tears spill from his waterline.

“I would give anything to get her back. Anything.” He looks away from me momentarily, his hands wiping his cheeks.

“I know… I would too.” He pulls me into a hug, his chin hooking over my shoulder.

———00:00:48:55———

It was less than an hour before commencement. My work was merciful enough to give us the week off so I was allowed to stay home while I prepared for the Purge. Gus, on the other hand wasn’t so lucky. As soon as he rushed through the door he locked himself in the bathroom, the shower running. Leaning against the door, I listened for anything out of the ordinary. Satisfied that the only noises I could hear were the pelting of water against tile, I pulled away and started on dinner. As soon as he got out of the shower, he pressed his sticky skin against my back with a chuckle.

“Hey…”

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Hey yourself…” Wiggling my body so I could face him, my hands push against his chest. “Why don’t you get dressed. We’re going to start lock down soon.” He nods, his expression dropping down along with his head. With a deep inhale he pulls himself away from me before dragging himself into the shared bedroom.

As I rushed around the kitchen, the news and their countdown timer as background noise, I gathered all of the ingredients for some stuffed bell peppers. ‘Hopefully this will help you get your mind off of things…’ Just as I was about to start chopping a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. A pulsing feeling running through my body as Gus slips on a shirt, eyes locking with mine before going over to the door. I watch as he takes a look through the peephole, his shoulders relaxing. He shakes his head with a sad smile.

“I’ll be right back. It’s Mr. Faux, I ran into him earlier, I think he’s here to continue our conversation…” As he cracks the door open, he waits for me to leave.

“What about?”

His head shakes once more, “Nothing important… Just about the front door. It won’t be a problem after tonight.” I nod, smiling. Just as I’m about to head back into the kitchen, I look back at him once more.

“Is everything alright? I know this day is pretty hard for you… I’m here if you want to talk about it.” My hands fiddle with the side of my shirt, “You know that right?” The corners of his mouth lift up but his eyes don’t shine like they usually do. He nods before slipping outside. My fingers tighten around my shirt as I head back to the kitchen, the pulsing feeling still not leaving my body.

As soon as I had placed the peppers in the oven, Gus walked back in his eyes darting everywhere else but mine. Going over towards him, I watched as he ran his fingers along the pictures of us together hung up on the wall. Placing a hand onto his shoulder, I let him shrug me away, a sigh escaping his lips. Turning back towards me, he opens his mouth to speak but the TV interrupts him. The screen flashing blue, the monotone voice playing through the speakers as the alarm blares at us. Commencement.

———00:11:59:59———

"(Y/n)… Mr. Faux said there's a car waiting for you outside. Are you planning to go to that party?" I shook my head.

"No. Are they still there?" Gus shrugs a sigh escaping his throat. I watch as he swings himself over the couch, a groan escaping his throat. I watched as he leaned forward, hands cupping the back of his head before leaning back once more.

"There's something I need to tell you… Come here." He waves me over. Cautiously walking over towards him, I take a seat and let my fingers thread through his. His eyebrows furrow into a thin line, "About that letter—"

All the lights go out followed by accompanying screams. His fingers tighten around mine, "What's going on?"

"I need to get you out of here. This isn't worth it. It isn't worth it let's go." He tugs me up and drags me around the unit, through the darkness, the screams get louder. His hand never left mine as he swung the front door open. Leading me through the building, a sliver of light hits our eyes as I realize we're at the back of the building. "Once you're out, run to my car," he hands me his set of keys, "get in and lock it. If I'm not there in ten minutes, start driving without me. Go to this location. Take the back roads. Once you arrive, the password is written on the back of the paper. In the glove compartment there is a mask with neon lights. Turn it on and cover your identity. No matter what, you will not take it off until this night is over and you are safe. Completely. Without a doubt, safe. Got that?"

My head spins, "Gus, please." His fingers curl around my shoulders. Looking behind him, he sighs.

"Please. Please just do it. Okay?" Nodding, he presses his lips to mine, warmth flooding my body, "I love you so much. Please, stay safe." Carefully he takes off the barricades from the door and props it open. Checking the immediate surroundings around the building, he nods at me. "Go first, I'll be behind you to cover you."

Nodding, I make a full sprint towards his car, both items clenched tight between my fingers. Moments later, I jumped into the drivers seat, the doors locked behind me as I waited for him to catch up. I feel my uneven breaths escape from my slightly parted lips.

Gus pops up next to me, hand slamming against the window. "(Y/n), I'm here, unlock the door!" After following his command, I clamber over the side console and into the passenger seat. Once Gus settles in, he combs his hair with his slender fingers. His eyes were wide as he gripped the steering wheel. "Are… Are you ready?" He says somewhat breathlessly. I nod and let him drive us to our destination.

———00:11:24:19———

After about thirty minutes into the drive, we finally arrived at a large office-like building. Giant spotlights bolted into the ground shined up at the tinted windows. Pulling up towards the front drive, two men in fully padded suits waited at the front door, eyes trained forward guns strapped to their backs and legs. Turning towards Gus, who has refused to answer any of my questions so far, reaches into the glove compartment and places the mask over his face. Reaching inside once again, he takes out a similar mask, only mine has a wider toothy grin plastered on the front.

Handing it to me, he waits for it to cover my features before exiting the car. Opening my door, he takes my hand and pulls me so I stand behind him, his left hand roughly gripping my right one as he leads us up towards the padded suits. One turns towards him, a grimace etched into his lips as he leans forward. A deep booming voice growls out, "Password."

"AV 2782." The suit nods to their counterpart as they swing the doors open for us. Inside, a crushed velvet carpet and matching curtains decorate the room. Figures donned in blank white masks stand single file blocking us from moving anywhere but forward. Letting Gus lead the way, I follow him to the front desk where a figure donned in a splitting, two faced mask holds out his hands. I watch as Gus reaches into his pocket, pulling out his ID and placing it into the form's hands, Gus turns towards me.

"I don't have my ID… I left it in the apartment…" I whisper, hands clutching his shirt. He shakes his head.

"Don't worry. Do you still have the letter?" I nodded. "Good. Hand it to them and when we get inside, stick to me." Pulling it out of my pocket, my gut twists as I let them take it from me. After a quick scan at both, the white masked figures create a small opening for us to walk through.

Heading into the elevator and up to the top floor, Gus' fingers slap away my hands, his eyes unable to meet mine. Even behind closed doors. Once they open, dim lights and people sitting at circular tables, all focus onto us.

A figure donned in a feathery mask stands, somewhat elevated, at the front of the room. With a microphone in hand, they take a deep breath in, a smile creeping up onto their face, "Let the games begin."

———00:10:59:59———

We are lead to a table in the back of the room, the lights dimming around us. Now seated, Gus grabs my hand, squeezing me tight. A light flashes towards the front. An exhibition. A red dot at the corner of the screen projected onto the wall indicating that what we’re currently seeing is live. A series of images flashes before us. A padded room with a singular chair placed in the middle, several shots of a park, another of an office building. The screen goes black for a moment as a spotlight shines onto a mask-less announcer stands before us. Her attire is unlike anyone else’s. Tight leather wraps around her figure like a second skin, bright neon makeup painting her features. In smeary purple lipstick, she raises her microphone to her lips, a slurty voice putting us all in a trance.

“Welcome everyone… I’m so glad to announce this year’s contestants for the Purge Party,” she pauses, pulling out a paper, “Out of the thirty six invitations sent out to our people, only three of them came willingly… One is missing.” She purrs. Turning towards the screen she scans the faces that have now popped up on screen.

“Well, not really…” her eyes lock with mine, tongue running along her lips with a moan, “It seems as though our little runaway wanted to join our fun…” A spotlight illuminates our table, Gus’ fingers squeezing mine tightly. “And here I thought we would have to say goodbye to little Sara. You know the rules, Hon. We need all thirty six players… Is Sara our replacement for your little Mouse?”

Gus stands up, his fingers shaking as he looks down towards me. His hand never leaving mine he looks back up towards the announcer. “I wanted to deliver this one personally. They’re quite the fighter…” his voice cracks, “It was the most logical decision.” The crowd cheers as two bulky frames rush to my side, pulling me from my seat and dragging me away behind metal doors.

My mask drops from my face as I scream out to Gus. He doesn’t look back.

#yandere #male yandere #tw obsession #tw kidnapping #tw betrayal #tw purge #tw cliff hanger #tmrwrites #I'll get this done one day...#maybe #I'll try my best :)

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