#being loud and unashamed and part of my community is the only thing keeping me alive but it might also be the thing that kills me. ya know?

[hiimcanadia]

wahoo I love being a fag 😇

[zippiestdraws]

Choking Curiosity Ch 9

ftm reader x Michael Myers

read on ao3

The microwave clock says five-fifty am when Michael creeps into the house. He shakes the dew out of the mask’s hair and reaches for the kitchen towel to wipe off the latex.

The book is new. He saunters to it slowly, leaving it untouched other than plucking the note from the cover. Your request in writing is met with indifference, barely read, but his thumb rubs over the inking of your name at the bottom.

He’d seen it amongst your things, but this trinket he can keep. He pockets the paper, crumpling it in his grip, and picks up the book. Beginner’s Guide to American Sign Language.

Michael snarls under the mask. Past anger wells in his chest at the words, fighting to vent through his fingers. They tried to make him use sign language in Smith’s Grove. He never wanted to learn to communicate better, even if out of spite, it was what he could control. The only sign that really stuck was the middle finger.

Michael climbs the stairs with a harsh grip on the spine, sparing a glare towards your bedroom door and throwing the book into his room before him.

*** You wake up with purpose this morning and only spend half the amount of time as usual sitting in your bed before getting up.

Fussing with the bedhead in the mirror, you brush your teeth when a thought hits you. You haven’t seen your new roommate brush his teeth.

Ew.

You sigh. You’re going to have to get him a toothbrush and some deodorant, you can’t imagine being on the lam has left him smelling decent. You gag. He better not have touched your toothbrush.

The book is gone from the counter, which you count as a win. There’s no response to your note, but you’ll take what you can get. You just need to remember to study your book too, when you get back.

Thinking about the cookout, you stop short.

‘Was I supposed to bring a dish?’

You groan, hopefully they won’t judge you for bringing some chips and dip.

You get dressed what would be considered way too early, but you need to get gas anyway, and luckily you did because, as you leave your house, you see Abtin approach from his yard.

He gifts you a tomato from his garden, to your surprise, and begins to tell you how his plants are doing. He tells you he’s gonna cook the rabbit that keeps eating his cabbage if he catches it, in the way he jokes for shock value.

“So, hey, is that your brother I keep seeing behind your house? He keeps coming and going-”

You choke on your own spit.

“I’m just messing with you, I know what it is.” He laughs and slaps his knee. You don’t know what you would say if you could say something. What excuse could you give? You hope he doesn’t mean what you think he does, but you’re the only person he gossips to anyway.

You’re relieved when he moves on to critique the spray paint still out front, but at least Halloween is next month and then you’ll probably be able to paint the house.

In another ten minutes, you pocket your tomato and make it to your car to drive for the first time in probably two months. Hopefully you’ll have enough gas to make it to a station.

*** You’re lucky you filled the tank before leaving because you got lost twice trying to find the turn off indicated on the map. Finally, on another turn back, you see a faded red flannel tied around a tree, and upon closer inspection, an old dirt road hidden at an odd angle.

When the trees part into a wider clearing down the road, you slow to a stop in the drive of what appears to be a tricked out log cabin. Putting your car in park, you jump at a loud whack nearby, someone splitting logs in your peripheral.

Jake is wearing what looks like a cowboy hat, but you’re more enamored with the way his arms look in his sleeveless vest when he swings the axe. You close your mouth and remind yourself he’s spoken for. Stepping out of the car and grabbing the food you brought, he waves to you, then points to the cabin. Right on time you see Dwight and someone you don’t know lifting a wooden picnic bench, and you jog over to help because Dwight looks like he’s about to get squashed.

At its destination, the other man introduces himself as David and slaps hands with you, throwing his arm around Dwight. It’s almost surprising, the two of them look like a stereotypical high school nerd and bully, but David tussles his hair like an older brother.

After letting go, he pulls you over to where some logs are felled around a firepit to “grab a beer and meet the queers”. You laugh at the overtness of it, and again as a girl with red hair chucks a bag of marshmallows at his head when she hears him say it. Maybe finding someone like you isn’t a lost cause here.

“Hey!”, when David opens the cooler, you look up to see Laurie standing there pointing at you. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you smile, glad to see a familiar face.

“I came with Meg and Claudette,” Laurie gestures at the two other women who nod to you.

“I’m Meg and this is Claudette, to be clear,” the girl with red hair clarifies and nods her head across from her, “and over there is Ace- and so help me, Ace, if you shoot that at me I will roast you over the fire.”

You turn towards who she’s speaking to and see an older man sitting in a blue, plastic kiddie pool struggling to fill a small water pistol while laughing.

“Here you go, mate.” David grabs your attention trying to hand you a beer.

“Oh, no thanks, I gotta drive home tonight-” you put your hand up, but he presses it into your palm.

“Come on, relax, just one won’t hurt. And if you get hammered, you can just camp out here like everyone else.”

It’s in your hand now and you nod at him, but you don’t want to reveal that you think beer tastes like shit.

Dwight returns with Jake and firewood in tow, Ace squirts the water gun at them ‘to cool Jake down’ and you duck out of the way as they drop the tinder into the pit.

“Hey, glad you came,” Jake says, dusting splinters from his hands.

“He brought chips!” You both hear David yell over from the table, presumably with his mouthful.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t bring something better-” you start to apologize but he tells you not to worry about it, chips are great and you brought enough so that David can’t eat them all. David yells back that he takes that as a challenge.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this much.

It’s a warm enough afternoon that you don’t need to light the bonfire yet, and David gets the grill going while Jake runs back to his cabin to grab the meat. At this point you remember the tomato in your pocket, pulling it out and setting it on the table sheepishly.

“Nice tomato! I always bring a vegetarian option for everybody too, Jake keeps them separate on the grill for me.” Claudette smiles at you from across the table as she sets down some plates.

“Thanks, my neighbor actually gave it to me from his garden this morning before I left.”

The two of you talk, and you learn that planting marigolds with tomatoes is a great way to prevent pests and Claudette knows a whole lot about gardening because she happens to be a botanist.

Meg sits down next to her and listens happily for a couple of minutes before calling Ace over to challenge him to an arm wrestle.

“Don’t let him near the grill, everything he touches burns…” Meg whispers out of the side of her mouth as he walks over. You catch Laurie’s eye from where she’s standing with Dwight, Jake, and David at the grill, exiting the conversation before swiftly making her way over to you.

“I’m gonna show (Y/n) where the bathroom is.”, her hand lands on your shoulder, you guess you have no choice.

You swing your legs around the bench and follow her off towards the cabin with a shrug. When you’re a few paces away from the group, she hisses to you under her breath without looking and you almost miss it.

“Have you seen him again?”

It takes a second before you register what she’s talking about, but you respond before you come to a full conclusion on what you tell her.

“No, not since the first time.” She opens the front door of the cabin and you avoid eye contact. You hope your body language reads ‘upset’ and not ‘hiding something’. “I don’t want to talk about it right now…”

Laurie lets it drop, but sounds irritated when she points out the bathroom. On the way back you whisper a ‘sorry’ and she responds with a ‘me too’. You scrunch your brows in confusion, but head over to the grill. She disappears from your side but a thirty seconds later a stream of water hits you in the side of the head.

You yelp in shock and duck, but Laurie keeps squirting the gun, catching Dwight in the crossfire.

“It’s on!” David yells, dropping the tongs on the grill and vaulting over the table after her. Laurie runs to the other side of the kiddie pool that you see Ace getting out of, holding a beer aloft.

There’s a stand off on either side of the water, broken by David launching over it and landing one foot in the drink to lunge at Laurie, only for her to jump out of his reach. Almost in slow motion, everyone watches as his one foot slips on the plastic and he goes tumbling down, soaking his pants and getting a face full of grass. Everybody has a good laugh while he climbs out with a flurry of curses and peels off his shirt.

Damn.

Jake calls over as he sets one huge plate of hot dogs and burgers on the table and follows it with one of corncobs and what’s probably the veggie patties that Claudette mentioned. Meg whistles at the sight of the food and starts serving hot dogs after passing the vegetarian plate to Claudette, everyone falling in at the table to eat.

*** You eat until you’re stuffed, unashamed as everyone else does the same. The sun is sinking in the sky now, casting a pleasant glow through the trees. Jake deems it enough to start the fire and you approach to watch curiously as he strikes flint onto the dry brush and blows on it.

When he’s finished he tells the group to keep an eye on it while he fetches the s’mores stuff.

“I thought we put it out right here-” Dwight turns toward the logs, confused, but Jake takes him by the arm to bring him along to the cabin.

“I brought it inside because the chocolate was melting.” Dwight seems to accept this and follows along.

When they're out of earshot, Meg leans in towards the log you’re sitting on from her own.

“Jake is proposing tonight! I think he’s doing it!” She squeals a bit in excitement and tries to look like she’s not watching when Dwight looks back before ducking inside.

You share in their excitement and join Ace in stoking the fire into a roaring flame. You watch the smoke dance and carry some ashes into the air and lean back happily. The sky is turning from purple to deep blue now. The light from the fire dances off the trunks of the trees, and you take in the nature of your surroundings as your friends chatter around you.

You squint at a shape between the trees and it moves behind a thicker trunk.

White mask.

*** Michael would never admit to himself of ever feeling jealousy, but a certain irritation of possessiveness grows as he watches. His stomach rumbles at the food, but it’s of little relevance to him.

He spots Laurie and his knife is already in his dominant hand. The strings are connecting what he’s seeing to the same feeling of what he saw watching the teenagers in 1978. This time Laurie is collateral. Funny.

All he has to do is wait.

He could go after the two that already diverged from the group, but he wanted you separated. He moves closer to where you will see him.

The firelight flickers over your form, creating a beautiful moving sepia of you that reminds Michael of the old photographs in the asylum. As you poke at the fire, it licks towards your fingers and that are drawn back sharply.

What sounds would you make when it touched you?

Your eyes had a dream like quality, observing the realness of your habitat, peering through rose-tinted glasses to only see the welcoming nature when surrounded by the lurking sharpness of it.

He may have felt smug when the illusion broke around his presence.

Michael moves out of your line of sight, but he humors over the way a human freezes like an animal in the headlights.

The annoying man who fell in the pool speaks. Michael doesn’t like the way he looks at you.

“Oi, (y/n), you look like you’ve seen a ghost, what’s got you bothered?”

You snap out of it quickly, looking towards him and then shaking your head.

“Um, yeah sorry, I’m just...cold. I’m gonna go get my jacket from my car, I’ll be right back.”

You skitter off nervously, Michael can see the confusion on some of the other faces.

You make it to your car before scanning the woods and spinning to check your blindspot, but you don’t need it, Michael is already walking toward you and you can see the way the orange of the distant campfire glints off of the knife he’s brandishing. You step back, you don’t want to be intimidated, but you fear for what he’ll do to your friends.

The car door stands between the two of you when you open it, pulling out your jacket without breaking eye contact. It’s seeming like you can’t escape him.

“How did you get here?”, you whisper, not knowing exactly where Jake and Dwight are.

You wait for an answer, and when you give up on one, he turns his head deliberately toward the backseat of your car and back to you.

You’re incredulous, the main question you don’t want to elaborate on is “how?”, but you wave it away to get to the point.

“Please.”, you don’t know what you’re appealing to, but you hope there’s some leverage you have in the way he sees the situation. “Please don’t hurt these people. I’ll-”

What will you do?

You don’t know, but you have to save them from whatever he’s planning.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll-I’ll leave right now, okay?” He just stares at you. He twists his knife once.

“The car is open, I’ll go make an excuse to leave and be right be right back, I promise.” You hold up your hands placatingly.

You do a quick jog back to campfire and it looks like you return shortly after Jake and Dwight.

“So, what’d I miss?”, you hope you don’t enter as clumsily as you feel.

Jake and Dwight turn to you on the log and Dwight is wearing the biggest sheepish smile and looks like he cried a little bit. You can see the little gold band on Dwight’s left hand and smile back, issuing proper congratulations.

You force yourself to say it, feeling guilty for springing it on them during a sentimental moment.

“I wanted to stay for the s’mores, sorry guys, but I gotta get home.” Some sad ‘awws’ erupt from the girls and Laurie looks at you suspiciously.

“What, are you afraid of the dark?”, David jeers as you say your goodbyes.

“No, I just have work tomorrow.”, you grimace.

he responds with a hum of acknowledgement before laughing.

“Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.”

You give him a good natured punch in the shoulder before waving to everyone and heading out.

Approaching your car once more, you can see Michael’s silhouette in the backseat and gulp. Sliding in and starting the car like normal, you try not to look back, but in the mirror you see the shadowed eyes watching you.

It’s easy to imagine how vulnerable you are to him in the backseat. The ride home is awkward, but only for you.

[irrelevantwriter]

Blood In The Water

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 

Warnings: Language, blood play (unhygienic but key to the story), oral sex (male and female), unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Negan comes home sporting a look that has you tapping into something you’d never explored before.

A/N: This is my very first request fulfillment! I don’t actively take requests because that can be quite stressful, but when this was sent to me I just had to give it a go. It is dark and it is depraved so be warned. The request was based on a certain gif of Negan from the season 10 trailer (I’ll add it below), though by the title you guys probably have a good idea of which one it is *wink*wink*. Enjoy and share with your friends!

Thank you to @pirateking289 for the request! I hope I did it justice.  

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

He was running late. 

You sighed as you fussed with your hair again in the mirror, eyes darting to the door for the hundredth time. 

It wasn’t unusual for Negan to be out after his supposed return time. Things happened, especially outside the fences. And that’s what made you worry and pick at your painted nails as you waited for him in his room. 

It was your turn to spend the evening with your husband and you were itching to finally lay eyes on him. He’d been gone for a week, conducting business as he liked to call it. Though you knew it for what it was. It was a chance to swing his dick around as king shit. You’d witnessed the spectacle he’d made to other communities before. The theatrics were always over the top but they served their purpose. And you couldn’t help but find the whole ordeal strangely erotic.

The man could talk the panties off a nun. And he knew it. 

A jiggle of the door handle made you pause and turn away from the mirror. The room was awash in a dim glow from the candles you’d lit. You wished you’d waited on turning off the lights because you could barely make out the door open and a figure walk in. 

Without being able to see him clearly, you could sense it was Negan. He had an air about him that most could pick out, but your ability to do so was bred from many intimate nights together. 

You pulled your shoulders back so that he could see the black negligée you’d worn for him. It was new…a gift for both him and yourself.

His heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room as he stepped towards you. His leather jacket squeaked as it moved with his body. You took a deep breath, feeling your heart flutter at an uncontrollable pace. You could feel your insides start to warm and your inner muscles begin to clench in anticipation.

“Well, well…” His deep, baritone voice finally pierced the silence and it didn’t disappoint. Your body reacted immediately, shivers running down your spine.

“Look at you.”

He stopped, his face still sheathed in the darkness. Your eyes shifted to his right hand, the outline of something large dangling from it. It took a moment, but your eyes finally adjusted.

Lucille.

He still had his coveted weapon clenched in his fist. But that wasn’t what made you pause. It was the obvious trail of liquid running from the tip of the bat to the floor. It was dark and appeared sticky. The smell of iron only cemented your guess…blood.

“You look good enough to fucking eat, doll.”

Your eyes jumped back to his as he made a move to step closer. You could see the whites of his teeth through the low light and you felt like Alice in Wonderland staring at a disappearing Cheshire Cat grin. It was slightly off-putting.

Negan continued to move towards you, Lucille still at his side. You caught a glimpse of the trail she was leaving in her wake. You gulped, knowing someone had paid dearly for crossing your husband.

“What? No welcome home kiss?” He asked with long arms outstretched.

You shook yourself out of your stupor and took a step towards him, your bare foot leaving the rug and meeting the chill of the wood floor beneath. A smile made its way to your lips, your previous excitement in reuniting with Negan resurfacing. You had just made it within reaching distance when the flames of the candles illuminated his handsome face.

Blood.

Blood was spotted across the left side of his face. And it wasn’t fresh. The red had already turned a dark rust color, the liquid caked into his skin. You could see some of the fluid in his silver facial hair, the whiskers dyed with the remnants of someone’s life.

The sight should’ve frightened you. It should’ve made you turn away in disgust. Or at least admonish him for not cleaning himself before coming to you.

But none of those things happened. Seeing blood was as common as seeing tears these days. Instead, you felt a surge of arousal and a heat take hold that took even you by surprise. He was staring at you, daring you to react. His tongue was to his cheek, his smile appearing altogether wicked and welcoming at the same time.

You felt your nipples tighten against the lace of your nightie, the quickness of your breaths making your breasts extend out towards him. His eyes caught the movements, his tongue licking his lips to let you know he approved. You knew Negan well enough to know he was playing a game with you. The man loved games. And he loved being the winner of said games. Luckily for him, you didn’t mind losing. Though the man had an interesting way of “punishing” you.

“You good, doll?”

His voice was gentle as it cut through the tension. You met his eyes briefly, seeing the silent signal for you to allow him to continue. Negan may be the ringmaster in this scenario, but you held the metaphorical whip. When you said stop, he stopped. When you said keep going, he obeyed. When you pleaded for more, he relented. He was there for your entertainment as much as you were for his.

You nodded your head at his question and stepped so that your bodies nearly touched. He smiled, white teeth proudly displayed.

“You miss me?” He rasped against your lips, his breath colliding with yours. The hand not holding Lucille came up and traced invisible lines on the tops of your breasts, the touch barely anything but it was enough.

“Yes.” You said simply, though you were unsure if you were answering him or encouraging his fingers. His pointer finger played with your nipple through the fabric, teasing it to a firm peak.

“You miss my mouth?”

“Yes.” You moaned, pushing yourself further against him. Your head was getting foggy, that cloud of lust that seemed to appear out of nowhere whenever Negan was around suddenly materializing. You felt high, yet you’d never felt more in tune with your body and the sensations he pulled from you.

His eyes studied you closely before he moved in, his lips parted as they descended on your neck hungrily. You weaved your fingers into his ink-colored locks, gripping the strands with desperation. His free hand held the flesh of your hip beneath the fabric of your negligée, his own fingers digging into you with matching intensity. His lips and tongue assaulted your neck, tasting and nibbling as if he hadn’t eaten since he’d left.

You paid no mind to the blood smeared on his face. In fact, you relished in it. Something about it made you feel primal and needy for him. It was afeeling you hadn’t quite felt before, at least not like this.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He confessed against your neck, lips sucking harshly at your skin. His intention was clear. You didn’t stop him.

Your hands were on his chest, pushing the leather from his shoulders so that you could finally feel him. A loud crash made you startle, but you realized he’d dropped Lucille on the floor, freeing his other hand. He let his jacket fall off his body and into a pile at his feet. You stared at the wood wrapped in barbed wire, seeing the small fragments of flesh that remained. You didn’t shy away from it. You were intrigued. Curious about what or who made Negan snap. Who made him transform from man to beast.

“What happened?” You asked breathily, gesturing to the fallen bat. Negan was momentarily confused before he saw what you were staring at.

“Had to rid what’s left of this piece of shit world of one more fucking asshole.” He replied casually, lips going back to your neck and collarbone.

Your eyes didn’t move from the object, wanting him to continue. Wanting to hear the details. Wanting to picture it in your mind as he touched and kissed you.

“What’d they do?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just had to deal out some good ol’ fashioned justice by way of Lucille.” He murmured against you.

His reluctance to answer gave you a clue. There were few things Negan abhorred and in these treacherous days certain atrocities were rampant…especially against women. He wouldn’t normally be so forthcoming about what he had to do outside of the Sanctuary, but you supposed he was humoring you. It was bizarre pillow talk, but you weren’t about to have him stop.

“And she liked it…my dirty girl loves bashing in bad guy’s brains. It gets her all wet.”

His finger dipped beneath your panties suddenly, the action making you moan as he slid up and down your slit. He caught the moisture settling on your lips, smearing your arousal over your now fully exposed clit. The action made you whimper and grip his t-shirt tightly in your hands. You bit your lip, your head thrown back as he licked at the hollow of your neck.

“Feels like you get off on that too, don’tcha baby?” He chuckled darkly, the question not meant to be answered. Your body’s response was evidence enough.

“I need you...” You whined unabashedly.

“You don’t want me to clean up first? Shower off the blood before I fuck you?”

His already dark eyes were damn near black now, eyeing you with a dangerous interest. His facial hair scratched at your skin, the sensation making you lean into him further. He was hard and solid against you, heat radiating from his body like a lantern in the night. And you were a moth to that flame…unable to ignore the pull to such a force.

“No.” You whispered, unashamed of your need. There was a lot of fucked up shit going on in the world now. Negan fucking you with blood on his face was the least of your worries. In fact, it was what was currently making you insatiable.

He laughed. It was a deep laugh that held no humor. It was menacing, mixed with delight in your choice.

“As you wish.”

He stepped away from you and pulled his white shirt from his body. Lines of aged ink and harsh scars were revealed to your eyes, the plains of his lean but concrete form making your breaths come a millisecond faster. He then unbuckled his belts and pants, unzipping them slowly as he watched you. He kicked off his boots along with his socks, his face still resembling that of a killer’s.

He stopped just short of removing his pants. You waited, panties overflowing by this point. He curled a finger at you, beckoning you forward. The wolf inviting the lamb to slaughter. You happily accepted.

He gave you no time to react before he pounced. He attacked your lips, teeth biting and tongue probing as his hands gripped your neck. His touch was firm, reminding you what he’d done with them while he’d been away. Your own hands grasped at his flesh, rubbing against him in any way you could. You could feel the remnants of blood scrape against your face, the substance not as dried as you’d previously thought. It was no doubt spreading to your own flesh.

He thrust his hips against you and you caught the movement with your own, mimicking him fucking you through your still clothed bodies.

“Reach in there, baby…” He demanded roughly, his teeth catching your bottom lip.

You followed his instruction, grasping him beyond the barrier of his trousers. He was hot and thick, a touch of moisture already wetting the palm of your hand. You licked your lips hungrily at the feel of him, needy and desperate just like you.

“Fuck, yes.” He groaned, head thrown back in pleasure. You took the chance to attack his Adam’s apple, sucking at the appendage. He jumped in your hands, the action making him curse. You reveled in it.

You sucked at his skin, eager to return the same favor he’d extended to you. Your hand moved faster, but your reach was still limited with his pants in the way. You took the initiative and shifted them down his hips. You moved with them, your mouth suctioning on a patch of his hip that had him growling above you. You moved to your knees as you removed his pants fully, exposing him to the new warmth of the bedroom. He looked down at you, expressionless and full of self-assurance.

You imagined what it was like to be on your knees and at his mercy outside the walls. You imagined if he looked the same as he did now, ready to control and dominate. Your eyes went to Lucille still lying on the floor near your knees. Up close she was filthier than you’d expected. It looked as if she’d had a couple rounds of justice with multiple people rather than just the one Negan had alluded too. Blood and thick fragments of what you could only assume to be brain and skull were glued to the barbs.

“Doll?”

Your eyes shifted back up to Negan at his voice. He was looking at you skeptically, black eyes jumping between you and Lucille. You smiled against his cock, hands moving to envelope him.

“Just admiring your handiwork.” You teased. He chuckled until you covered him with your mouth, his laughs turning to groans in seconds.

Your lips and tongue worked him over aggressively, the way he liked. He liked when you got too eager. He liked when you sucked a little too hard. He liked when your teeth caught him slightly. Negan liked to lead by nature and he loved turning a novice to a pro. For his benefit, you kept the charade going. Always letting him command you in a way that had both of you hyped for more.

Saliva pooled at the corners of your lips as you took him to the back of your throat. You gagged and pulled back, sucking at the head.

“Not so hard, doll. Shit, yeah…like that.”

You changed the amount of pressure you were applying, your lips cradling his head rather than slurping. He shoved himself back inside your throat and you let him, swallowing around his width. His hips jerked and you knew he was struggling to control himself, so you amped up the stakes.

You sucked harshly at him again, purposefully disobeying his last demand. He hissed in response as his hand flew to the back of your head. He forced you on his length, not giving you a choice in the matter. Tears collected in your eyes and you sniffled against the release of your sinuses. This time he worked himself into your throat as if he was fucking you, hips pushing against your face as you struggled to breathe.

“Take it like I know you can, baby…”

You remained still and forced your throat to remain open as he continued to thrust. You tasted him, that tinge of salt making your mouth water. He started to move faster and you anticipated his release, readying your esophagus. But it never came.

Negan pulled away abruptly and gripped your elbow, hauling you to your now shaky feet. He pushed the nightie from your shoulders and down your torso. You shimmied so that the lace fell past your hips and thighs and to the floor. His calloused hands were on your breasts, pushing them together and up to his greedy lips.

Your nails scratched at his scalp, urging him for more. He cashed in on his payback by attaching himself to one of your nipples and not letting go. He sucked with a force that made you squeal and straighten onto your tiptoes. It was sinfully painful and you just about came on the spot.

His hands were gripping your ass, pulling at the scrap of black lace that still covered your womanhood. His nails caught in the fabric, his fingers not caring and ripping it away from your body. You stumbled against him when he pulled the now trashed underwear away from your body, his wide chest catching you.

“Bend over the bed.”

You hesitated for a moment, eyes taking in the now smeared patches of red on his face and neck. You looked down at your own skin, seeing the smear of crimson as if a paintbrush had swept across your chest. You didn’t retreat. You only did as he said. 

A rush of air cooled your exposed pussy as you bent over the bed facing Negan. You arched your back, calling for your mate. You heard a growl and chanced a look behind you. He was staring right at the apex of your legs. It was so intense it was almost a glare. His hand was wrapped around himself, the flesh slickened with your saliva. The sight made you push back towards him, enticing him to mount you already.

“Give me a better view, would ya doll?”

Your hands went to your ass, gripping the cheeks and spreading them so that he could get the eyeful he needed. His warmth was behind you in a flash, his presence pushing you face down into the mattress. Your hands stayed where they were as he let his cock grind against your swollen pussy. He was coating himself in your juices, introducing his arousal to yours head on. It was meant to be a preamble but you could feel him starting to rut against you, the beast taking over.

“Fucking hell you’re gonna make me cum already.” He breathed out as he pulled away hurriedly, trying to fend off his impending orgasm.

“Negan,” You begged from your spot on the mattress. You needed him to fill you already. You needed him to hit those spots that only he could reach.

A hand smoothed up your naked back and you relaxed instantly. He was close against you again, his throbbing cock so close to your wanting pussy. His other hand slapped against your ass a few times, enjoying the way it moved against his hand. You buried your face into the bed beneath you, trying to make it through the sweetest torture you’d ever experienced.

A finger slid its way into your channel, opening you up. He wasted little time in adding another, curving them upwards in a way that had you arching into him. Your hands were free and they grasped at the blanket beneath you, shifting the carefully placed pillows at the head of the bed.

“Open up, baby…you know I can’t just go in.” He reminded you. You knew that. There’d been plenty of times you’d tried, but accepting Negan’s cock had always taken some workup, your mind just refused to accept it after so long.

You moved against his hand, feeling the pads of his fingers slide against your walls with ease. You rubbed yourself along the bedspread, the material creating a delicious friction against your clit. You moaned and whined, your mind losing more and more of its sense of reality. Lust rushed through your veins creating a high that made it impossible to think of anything else except getting off.

A long, wet lick against your pussy made you gasp in surprise. You squeezed your eyes shut as Negan moved his tongue along your sensitive lips, not only tasting you but feasting on you. His teeth scraped against you and you jerked away, but his hands pulled you forcefully back. Liquid trailed down your thigh, the sound of just how much you wanted it bouncing off the walls.

Your spine tensed when the combination of all the pleasure became too much. You gyrated against the bed and Negan’s mouth as wave after wave of euphoria rolled through your body. You spasmed repeatedly, your body resembling that of a creature being struck with electricity. Your limbs moved on their own, having no choice but to comply with the demand of climax. It was almost too much. 

“Holy shit, baby girl…” Negan’s hands were smoothing down your thighs, his thumbs spreading your ass to see the way your pussy contracted against his movements. You felt his still hard cock sheath himself along your lips, catching the vibrations with his own body.

“Goddamn that feels fan-fucking-tastic.”

He savored your orgasm as much as you did, grunts and groans evidence of his approval. His lips ghosted against the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Up on the bed.” He breathed into your ear. You didn’t know where you could summon the energy to do so, but you did anyway.

Your limbs felt like fifty pound weights as you moved up the bed so that you laid flat on your stomach. Your thighs slid together uncomfortably. You heard Negan climb up after you, mounting you from behind. His face was at your neck, his mouth trailing along your shoulder as he spoke.

“Hope you don’t mind baby, but you’ve got the blood of another man between your thighs.” His fingers probed at your abused entrance as he spoke. You whimpered, both turned on and appalled at the idea. You couldn’t help it, you pushed back against his touch.

“You don’t give a fuck, do you? You get off on it. My dirty girl.”

You could tell he was smiling as he said those words. He was taking immense pleasure in your perversion, this newfound kink making him like a kid in a candy store.

You felt him straighten up as he maneuvered your body to his liking, spreading you cheeks again so that he could finally enter you. You remained flat on your stomach, basking in the weight of him straddling you. He felt strong and powerful and like he was about to fuck you right into the mattress.

His cock pushed into you without caution. As soon as he was sheathed fully inside, Negan pressed his hips against your ass, sending him deep. You practically screamed at the feeling. It felt like he was in your throat, your whole body reacting to the intrusion. He pulled out and repeated his motion, slow and deep. His hips always came flush with yours, pushing your body up the bed.

“Damn I wish you could see this, baby. Your pussy takes my cock like a fucking champ.”

You didn’t have to see anything. You could feel it. 

“She’s gushing. Got me soaked.” He continued, knowing how much you loved hearing his voice while he fucked you.

Even though he was going slow, it was still with a wild abandon. His fingers were digging into your hips, his body perspiring against yours. You could feel his muscles flexing in his abdomen and the way his cock twitched when your walls clung to him just right. His direction changed as he hunched over you, chest to your back. You tried to move beneath him, but he had you pinned as he shallowly thrust in and out. The force in his actions made your breath catch, your teeth biting the blanket beneath you.

“I can feel how close you are. Cum for me, baby.” His mouth was right by your ear, his breath hot against your already overheated skin. Your stomach muscles clenched as he fucked into you hard. Noises caught in your throat, never actually making their way past your lips.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck.” Negan growled into your neck. His hips picked up their pace, his thrusts no longer measured.

Skin slapped against each other as he raced you both towards the finish line. His arms encircled your waist beneath him, a long finger finding your clit crushed between the bed and your body. He assaulted it, rubbing at the swollen appendage ferociously. You raised up off the bed at the spike of intense pleasure, wanting more but fearing you couldn’t take it.

“Oh, fuck...” You whined, feeling that line begin to snap once again.

Negan doubled his efforts, his sweat dropping to your skin like a summer rainstorm. You contracted and convulsed beneath him, your throat finally opening up to let all the emotion out that you hadn’t been able to release earlier. Your whole body tensed as your pussy flooded his cock. His moans mixed with your own, his cum filling you to capacity. You clenched around him and practically begged for more as he tremored through his own release. His teeth bit at your shoulders and back, his face no doubt transferring more of the blood to your skin.

“Fucking fuck, baby…” He roared with each shot of cum into you. You made sure he stayed sheathed inside of you, unwilling to feel empty so soon.

His cum seeped out of your walls and melted against the two of you. His arms finally gave out and he collapsed on top of you. The feeling was strangely comforting.

You both caught your breath, letting the air of the room dry your sweat-slicked skin. His cock was soft inside you now and you could feel him begin to shift out of you. He hissed when he was finally free, the sound of him exiting crude and sloppy. You couldn’t move just yet, but you turned to eye him over your shoulder. His face was glistening as his hair curled against his forehead. The blood was smeared and even more embedded into his skin.

He looked like a madman.

“Shit, if I wasn’t so goddamn tired I’d fuck more of my cum into that pussy just to see this sight again.”

He gestured to the spot he’d been buried in moments before, no doubt taking in the way his cum spilled from you.

His words made you tingle, producing a very real aftershock. You whimpered at the oversensitivity of your body. You felt uncomfortable lying there in both of your releases, sweat, and blood. The bed was wet beneath you, making you shift away from it. Negan noticed and snickered as he swatted at your ass.

“I’ll be back.”

You waited a moment and then heard the shower kick on. He was back in an instant as he wrapped a hand around each ankle and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. He helped you flip on to your back, eyes still mesmerized to the junction between your legs.

“Do me one more favor, doll.”

You nodded silently, still feeling light-headed from your orgasms. You shifted your legs wider when he stepped between them, his hand softly catching the stickiness that lay there. His finger appeared in front of you, coated in both of your bodies spending’s.

“I want you filled at both ends.”

You reacted instantly. You took his finger into your mouth, sucking off any and all moisture. His grin made you feel warm all over again, your recovery period now over.

“Come on.”

He held his hand out, helping you to your feet and to the shower. You passed Lucille, your eyes once again taking in her current state. You jutted your chin upwards, willing this inanimate object to see that she wasn’t the only woman in Negan’s life who could get a little blood on her.

[beybladeimagines]

Loved the headcanon post for the Bladebreakers in their 20s. Any headcanons for my fave team the All Starz in their 20s? Like if they choose a different career or so on? Keep up the great work!! ✌

MAX: You can find Max’s details right here.

MICHAEL: I think Michael would hang on to blading for a hot minute, even if he wasn’t as into it as he initially was. When you think about it, Judy had a pretty strong grasp over all of the All Starz - so much so, that many of them began to question their own self worth and became emotional when Judy, in her own way, didn’t think they were good enough. When people are exposed to this kind of manipulation, they set out to please their manipulator as much as possible in order to avoid negative repercussions - in this case, potentially missing out on a promising future, not meeting their personal goals, or being seen as weak. However, as Michael grows older and sees how the team is distancing themselves to follow their own path, he’ll slowly follow suit.

I can see Michael doing a lot of things. He might try to pursue baseball professionally, but because he’s spent a majority of his time blading, he might lack the extensive amount of experience and skill necessary to really make it big. Michael is also extremely charismatic and gives off some skater vibes. I can picture him getting into a COMPLETELY different hobby, like skating, because there isn’t any negative association attached to it. When he skates, he doesn’t have to think about being seen as the best, he doesn’t have to try to impress anyone, and he certainly doesn’t have to be exposed to any more manipulation. Yeah, he loves baseball, but it reminds him too much of what he had to undergo for so long. I can see Michael getting so into skating, that he creates his own custom boards and eventually works in a skate shop where he helps set people up with their own parts and bases. I think the reason he’s so into that is because he gets to do something productive and he gets to expose people to the very hobby that is slowly making him whole again.

RICK: Rick has always been Judy’s favorite and her constant praise motivated him to be quite the ruthless and successful blader. Even though his team didn’t win the championships, it still didn’t stop him from being celebrated back in his city or scouted by other managers looking for talented bladers. I imagine that Rick still sticks to the blading scene for quite some time. After all, it was through blading that he went from a nobody to a somebody. Additionally, it was through blading that he got to meet Max - someone who essentially made him more comfortable working with others. He owes a lot to blading, as it made him change his perspective, it inspired personal growth, it allowed him to represent his community so that he could bring their identities to light, and it’s making him mad money. 

However, if Rick wasn’t pursuing blading, I can see him working at a recording studio. Rick loves music. He loves being in fast paced and loud environments. Sounds seem to soothe him, even if the music is metal. But let’s think about this too: In the anime, we always see Rick giving some kind of advice, even if it’s slightly backhanded and rude. Rick doesn’t mind giving feedback and he has a good ear for sounds that just feel…right. He knows exactly what pitch someone’s voice should transition into, he knows what instruments to add or remove, and he knows how to modify lyrics so that the message is far more clear. Granted, his feedback is straightforward, brash, and a little intense, but once he hears that new solid sound, everyone in the room will begin to praise him for his insight. He does have a gift and it really comes out in the recording studio. I don’t see Rick having his own band or making his own music, per say. But I do see him helping others out and mixing beats.

EMILY: I think Emily has always admired Judy. To her, Judy was this iconic, cut-throat woman who wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted. Judy reflected this unashamed confidence that Emily strove to mimic and to find within herself. We often see Emily by Judy’s side. She’s either siding with her ideas or immersing herself in the same kind of work that her heroine is doing. Although Emily blades, much of her time is placed into research. Honestly, had she not shown such an interest and skillful ability to attain and analyze player data, Judy might not have paid her much mind. I think Emily knows this, which is why she strives to be so proficient in the research world, because she wants to be recognized by the very woman who really put her on such a promising path. With that said, I don’t see Emily blading anymore as she’s grown older. I see her transitioning strictly to research.

Would she still be with the All Starz? That’s a tough one to answer. Part of me feels like Emily would want to stay, but because her team is essentially disbanded, her current information isn’t exactly needed. I can see Judy recommending her to other facilities - not because she doesn’t value Emily, but I think she’d want her to get more recognition and experience outside the nest. Emily needs to hone her observational skills. She needs to know how to analyze people who she HASN’T basically grown up with. I imagine this line of work makes her feel incredibly lonely. Emily already feels like she needs to isolate herself, because of how hard she works. She likes to tell herself that she’s fine and “never liked being around people anyway,” but she misses the dynamic between her and her team. Would she reach out to them? Probably not. But if she ever saw them again, I think she’d linger around a little longer than usual.

EDDY: Eddy has always found some kind of support from his fellow team members. He chimes in with them on roasting sessions, he hangs out with them during down time, and he’s used to seeing them every day because they all practically live in that research/training facility. He always told himself they’d be together forever, because they’ve endured so much and went through so many lengths to become superior bladers. And yet… He realizes that many of his teammates became disenchanted and even traumatized from their excessive exposure to training and self imposed ideas of worthlessness. Over time, Eddy too begins to fall out of love with blading. It just didn’t feel like the initial sport he fell in love with. If anything, he only ever enjoyed himself when he went against Michael or Steven, because they never made him feel inferior.

I can see Eddy going back to school, since he has more time with it. I can see him getting a scholarship for basketball. He appreciates every second of college, because he finally gets a breather and finally gets to live a normal life where he isn’t being groomed to be perfect. Eddy feels like he’s missed out on a large chunk of living normally… So, he enjoys the little things, like not having curfew, or being able to indulge in junk food and not having to appease a diet, and even doing something as dreadful as homework. At least with homework, he knows what he’s doing wrong and can actually strive to make himself better without getting mixed signals. Eddy takes pride in being able to represent his school, because he knows his school has given him something that makes him feel fulfilled, validated, and passionate about. 

STEVEN: Steven has gone on a JOURNEY when it comes to blading. He started off strong and as a normal part of the team, until he received his injury. As I always say, I imagine that injury gave him some perspective and completely changed his mentality on blading. While sitting on the sidelines, he saw how easily he was replaced. He tried to tell himself that he’d be welcomed back with open arms, but he always knew that Rick would be a more permanent addition to the team. Yes, his TEAM welcomed him back, but Judy and the facility were a bit more hesitant. It destroyed him to see how quickly his career crumbled. When he healed again, he didn’t have much of an interest to return to blading or football. However, I do imagine he continues to have a high interest in both sports, but is aware of how devastating an injury can be to one’s prosperous future. I think he’d strive to get into sports medicine to make sure no one else endures the same fate.

Sports medicine usually requires a degree. I can see him going back to school. Not only that, but he’d actually take the experience seriously. Every day, he thinks about how his own life had changed. It’s hard for him to forget just how frightened, anxious, and frustrated he felt. He never wants anyone to have to experience that same level of uncertainty and confusion, and that serves as his motivation to get his education. Steven is actually amazing at the healing process. He remembers every detail of what worked for him when he was recovering and he passes that knowledge onto those he encounters. Steven still has physical trauma, so that interferes with his ability to stay active for long periods of time. But this doesn’t stop him from working out. Steven goes hard in the gym in order to maintain his physique (and to release that pent up rage that still has yet to be shaken).

[demonsonthemoon]

We Shall Rule - Chapter 1.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairing: Platonic Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, background Jessica Drew/Natasha Romanoff Word Count: 3354 Summary: Bucky Barnes is slowly recovering from trauma and trying to start a having a normal life once more. Then he meets Clint, a new variable that intrigues him in a way he can't quite name. This is a story of people learning to know each others and themselves, navigating identity and relationships, overcoming trauma and trust issues. It's a story about life. Note: Written for #AggressivelyArospecWeek 2017 over at @aggressivelyarospec.  Currently a work in progress, so I'll post the first two chapters during the week, and then I'll try to post one chapter a month.

Available on AO3.

As soon as he entered the bar, Bucky asked himself what he was doing there. The place wasn't packed, which was a relief, but there was still a bit of a crowd. The walls were painted in a dark color impossible to recognize under the dim lighting of the room. A couple of couches were standing in one corner, some fairy lights hanging above them. There were two small tables with a few chairs in the same corner. None of this was what bothered Bucky.

The speakers were turned up at full volume and blasting some 00's Britney Spears song. And most people at the bar seemed to be ordering cocktails, either already drunk or desperately trying to get there.

Bucky would happily have joined the last group if he hadn't gotten sober because of his meds. Steve turned towards him as the small group they formed with Natasha and Sam approached the bar. He didn't seem a lot more at ease than Bucky, and smiled apologetically. “I know the music is a bit...”

“Stereotypical?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “That's one way to put it, yeah.”

“Don't worry about it, I'll be fine.” He forced his face into a relaxed smile, and Steve seemed content enough to leave it at that.

If Bucky survived the night, he was going to make it clear to Natasha that she owed him big time. He knew that her girlfriend was on the committee that was organizing the party, and that she had dragged them here to be good friends and show support, but still. He walked up to the bar and greeted Jessica, who was already handing Nat a beer and Sam a pink cocktail.

“Hey! Bucky, Steve! It's so nice to see you here! Can I get you guys anything?”

“Just a coke, thanks,” Bucky said.

“Same for me,” added Steve.

Jess immediately bent down to retrieve their drinks in a small fridge, and pocketed their change. She excused herself to attend another client, assuring them she would be back in a sec. Sam and Natasha were greeting a few people they already knew, so Bucky turned back to Steve. He tilted his head to indicate Steve's bottle. “You can drink alcohol, you know. I won't mind.”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe later, but I'm not really in the mood for it anyway.”

“Though maybe don't drink as much as these two,” Bucky said, gesturing at two guys who were sloppily grinding into each other, trying to follow the rhythm of the music, although obviously not trying hard. “or I might just have to put the video on YouTube.” Steve punched him in the arm, but hit his prosthesis. He probably hurt himself more than Bucky.

Natasha and Sam turned back towards them just in time for Jess to come back to their group. “Busy night?” Sam asked her, as another bartender maneuvered around her to get to the beer pumps.

Jess shrugged. “Starting to get busier. But my first shift is almost ending, and I won't have anything to do until closing time after that.”

“Well, except for keeping me entertained, of course,” Natasha said. The two women shared a knowing smile at that, before Jess turned around to pour a glass of beer for someone.

The whole group settled into easy conversation, and Bucky slowly learned to tune out the loud music, focusing on his friends' words instead. A few minutes before Jess finished her shifts, they moved to a table that had freed up, tired of being jostled by people trying to get to the bar. Next to their table was the corner with the couches, on which a mismatched group was sitting, all nursing drinks and talking somewhat passionately. Bucky tuned them out too.

He focused on his breathing. The darkness and warmth of the place were unsettling, making his stomach twist slightly. He let the conversation happen around him instead of participating in it. Steve shot him a worried glance at one point, but Bucky just smiled, relaxed. He offered to get his friends' some drinks, and Sam stood up with him to help.

Both of them cringed as one of the people dancing nearly elbowed Sam in the sternum. He was still rolling his eyes when they reached the bar and placed their order. “Someone oughta teach these people how to dance.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Are you offering your services?”

Sam eyed him up and down, a considering expression on his face. Bucky opened his arms and twirled.

“Okay Barnes, you're on. Let's take these drinks back home and we'll see what you've got in you.”

Bucky laughed openly. They dropped off the tray of drinks, and he only had the time to take one sip of his coke before Sam pulled him by the elbow and dragged him away, a mischievous smile on his lips. Once on the dancefloor – which consisted of a few square meters without any tables on which people were more trying not to accidentally punch each other than actually dancing – Bucky had to admit that the music at least had enough of a rhythm to be danced to. He also found out it was less tiring to listen to when you didn't have to make the effort of understanding a conversation at the same time.

So Sam pulled him by the hand and started moving his body to the rhythm. The song playing was coming to an end, and he danced in a mostly restrained way throughout. Then a new tune started, something that Bucky could vaguely recognized as salsa-inspired in a way that wasn't very clear through the layers of autotune. Sam grabbed him by both hands, easily sliding his fingers between the clutch of Bucky's prosthesis, and started leading the dance, surprising Bucky as he started to make him twirl under his arms, even though they were pretty much the same height and Bucky was wider than him. Bucky lead for the next dance, and they had fun with it, quickly attracting the gaze of onlookers. Although their choreography was much less suggestive than the grinding of some other couples, they did make a striking pair. Bucky forgot to be self-conscious. It was like they were dancing a private joke and others couldn't help but want in on it.

They stopped after two and a half dance, the warmth of the room getting to them as they started to feel the thirst that had made them get drinks in the first place.

As they made their way back, Bucky caught the gaze of one of the guys sitting in the group next to theirs. The man grinned at him, apparently unashamed that he had been caught staring. Bucky looked away, not sure how he felt about the attention.

Steve of course welcomed them back with a bright smile, and Bucky felt slightly embarrassed about it as he sat down next to his friend. He felt like his mama had just pinched his cheek to tell him how proud of him he was. And sure, Bucky was proud of himself too, but that wasn't the point.

He raised his coke to Sam and downed half of it as Steve went back to the conversation he'd been having with Jess and Nat.

And Bucky went back to his prior state of calm.

He was only half-heartedly participating in the conversation when he heard the talk in the sofas behind him getting louder.

“Are you seriously gonna start with the gate-keeping bullshit now?” A male voice, tone slightly exasperated. “In front of me, while we're supposed to be out for a good time?”

There was a quick and sharp response followed by cold laughter, and Bucky wasn't able to catch the next few sentences.

“Don't even try to drag me into this conversation, Loki, because I won't be on your side.” It was a higher-pitched voice this time. “Like, I'm bi and nonbinary. I know how this crap goes, I've been on the other side of it. You might think you're oh-so-original by being bigoted and hiding it under a thin layer of queer theory, but this shit's been done and re-done before. It's always the same arguments and it boils down to the fact that you'd rather be an asshole and exclude people from a safe space that they need, before you confront the fact that people can face different types of oppression than you and still be part of a community that's always been more defined by the fact it welcomed people that didn't belong anywhere else than by the list of identities it included.” She stopped after that, probably getting her breathing back after what had been a pretty long tirade.

“You talk about oppression, and oppression is exactly what the queer community” Bucky could almost imagined who he assumed was a man making air quotes around the two words. “was based on. But by ignoring the historical ideals that brought people together in the first place and insinuating that 'everyone belongs', you're just opening the gate for every single made-up identity to  claim space by pretending they're oppressed because someone was mean to them once. I mean, let's be serious, I've never heard of one asexual person dying during the AIDS crisis.”

Bucky involuntarily rolled his eyes, which got him a few looks from his friends around him. Which he should actually be listening to. He tried to re-engage in the conversation going on in front of him, but the back of his mind was always drifting back to what he could hear behind him.

“Did you die in the AIDS crisis, Loki?” It was the first man's voice again. “'Cause if I had known, I would have sent your brother some flowers.”

“Don't drag him into this, Clint. And you know exactly what I mean. What example do you have of the oppression you think you face?”

“Dude, I'm not even asexual, get your facts fucking right. But like, on the top of my head? Corrective rape is a thing that still happens. So are assholes like you that try to police how others identify. The fact that asexuality is listed in the DSM if you don't self-identify is also a pretty big thing.”

“You call that a big thing? People want to have sexual desire.”

“Oh my god, Kate, can I punch him?” The man didn't wait for a reply and went on. “They want that because every-fucking-body tells them that's what they should want. Just as there are lots of closeted gay people who want to be straight. I can't fucking deal with the fact you actually believe in what you're saying right now. I'm walking out on this. I'll be outside; once you get the fucking stick out of your ass, you can come find me, if getting it out doesn't do too much damage to your pride. Since you've obviously got more of it than brains.”

“Yeah, right, you just go and pretend that the fact you don't want sex somehow makes you a special snowflake and your life’s the hardest thing on earth.”

“I've told you I'm not fucking asexual, Loki. I'm on the aromantic spectrum. Not the same thing. Also, I don't want your pity. You probably couldn't give it anyway since you're busy pouring it all over yourself. Grow up.”

The man stood up and walked out. Bucky couldn't help but turn and follow him with his gaze. He noticed it was the same blond guy that had been looking at him while he danced with Sam.

“Hey, Buck, you okay?” Steve asked next to him, a note of concern in his voice though he was trying to be casual about it.

“Me? Yeah. 'm fine. I'm just gonna go for a smoke if that's okay? It's a bit stuffy in here, I need to get some air.”

“Sure, yeah. Uh, see you.”

Bucky didn't reply, simply grabbing his jacket and walking out. He was following his impulse more than his reason, but hey. His therapist always told him he should try to take small steps out of his comfort zone from time to time. This was something he could do, right? Spend the evening at a gay bar and talk to strangers. Totally a good idea.

The fresh air hit him in the face in an almost painful way. He shivered as he slipped into his jacket, looking around for a few seconds before he noticed the blond man leaning against the wall on the other side of the street. He took a cigarette from his pocket and approached the stranger in his best nonchalant attitude. “Do you have a light?”

It was a cheap line, but it was the only way he could think of to approach the man without seeming like a creeper. Of course, if he didn't have a lighter on him, Bucky would be very embarrassed, either standing around with his unlit cigarette or having to use his own lighter and be found out a liar.

It didn't come to that as the blond pulled out a plain purple lighter from his khaki jacket. “Here you go.”

Bucky lit his smoke and took a short drag, immediately relaxing as he exhaled. The effect was probably more psychological than anything at this point, but he didn't care about that as long as it actually worked.

“So... The guy you were with sounded like kind of a douche,” Bucky stated.

The blond laughed, startled, then nodded enthusiastically. His nose was slightly crooked, and Bucky noticed a faint scar on his neck on which the streetlights reflected. “A bit of a douche.” He repeated, looking up at the sky. “I guess you could say that. He just... He has his moments. He can be pretty decent sometimes, but others he'll just start this kind of crap and it's... annoying, I guess. I mean, I'm not really close to him, so whatever. We just keep on running into each other.”

“Still. I mean, I don't want to sound like I was spying on your conversation -”

“Though you kind of were?”

Bucky shrugged. Belatedly, he thought of offering a cigarette to the other man, but he refused. “You were speaking pretty loudly, to be honest. What I meant to say is... He didn't sound like he was trying not to hurt you, you know. He seemed to be enjoying pissing you off. So you don't have to make excuses for him.”

“Am I making excuses?” He thought about it for a second, and Bucky let him. He could hear the music from the bar, though only faintly, as well as a couple of people talking across the road. “Maybe I am. I guess it's just that what he was saying wasn't anything new. It's actually getting to be pretty old stuff. And like... If you keep on staying angry at those things, you won't ever be able to let go. And it'll just ruin your life. Loki's bigotry isn't worth ruining my life over.”

“I guess, yeah.”

Bucky wanted to ask more questions. To ask how come the blond had to deal with those kinds of comment enough for him to build a protective layer against them. He wanted to know where Loki's discourse was coming from, or even what the subject of it actually was. He knew about asexuality, and it wasn't too difficult to infer from that what “aromantic” meant. But he was curious about how this stranger identified, in a way that wasn't exactly polite.

He didn't ask.

Actually, the blond was the one who next asked a question. “What's your name, by the way? I saw you hanging out with one of the bartenders, so hopefully I can score a free drink if I make her think I'm your friend.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. “Yeah, no chance, not with Jess. She's treasurer for the youth group that's throwing this party, she won't be the one responsible for giving out free drinks and making them lose out on possible benefits.”

“Worth a try,” the stranger replied with a small smile, only lifting up one side of his mouth.

“Bucky. That's my name, if you still want to know. Or, well, my actual name's James, but most people call me Bucky.”

“And do you have a preference between the two?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Okay Bucky. I'm Clint.” He extended a hand to shake, and Bucky switched his cigarette to his left hand. He was wearing a glove over his prosthetic arm and hoped Clint's attention wouldn't get caught on it.

“Nice to meet you, Clint.”

“Likewise. Saw you dance with this guy a while before. You got some moves.”

Bucky shrugged again. “Yeah. I like dancing. Used to take lessons with one of my friends when we were in highschool.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Uh?”

“The guy you were dancing with.”

“Sam?” Bucky shook his head, smiling. “Nah. Just a friend. Actually a friend of a friend. Only really started to get close to him in like... the last two months or so?”

“Oh, you looked pretty close,” Clint said teasingly, lying back against the wall.

“Yeah, no, I don't see him like that. And I'm pretty sure he's into Steve. Short, skinny, blond? Often looks like a lost puppy?”

“I think I see who you mean, yeah.”

Bucky dropped his cigarette and put it out, putting both hands in his jeans pocket.

“Speaking of Steve, I should probably head back. He's a bit of a mother hen sometimes, I'd better not let him start worrying or he'll freak out and give me a stern look.”

“Is that such a terrifying prospect?”

“Oh yeah. Trust me, you haven't seen Steve's stern looks.”

Bucky took a step backwards, signaling that he was about to get out of the conversation, but actually uncertain of whether he wanted to leave.

He wanted to ask for Clint's number, maybe. The blond was pretty attractive, in a kind of toned-down way, and he had a sort of laid-back charm about him. But mostly Bucky was just... intrigued. He wasn't sure whether it was in a nice way or not, and that was why he hesitated to act on it. It was his first night out after his last relapse, and Bucky was conscious of the fact that he might just have taken an unhealthy fancy to the guy because he had starved himself of any human contact for weeks.

“Do you come here regularly?” Clint asked as he was taking a second step back. “I mean, I don't think I've seen you around, but maybe I just hadn't noticed you.” He sounded doubtful of the idea in a way that brought warmth to Bucky's cheeks.

“Not... exactly. I don't... I don't go out much, actually. Today was kind of a favor to my friends.”

“I guess you'd really better get back in, then.”

“Yeah, but, uh...” Bucky took a breath. “Could I give you my number? I don't... if that's... I mean I'm not looking for...” He shook his head.

Clint shrugged. “'I'm not looking for' either. But if you want to grab a coffee or something someday, I probably wouldn't say no. Especially if you pay for it. I'm kind of broke, to be honest.”

Bucky laughed. “Sure. Want me to dictate?”

Clint pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to him. “Just type it in.”

Bucky did that, then handed the phone back. Clint fiddled with it for a few seconds, then Bucky felt his own phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. And pulled it out to a new text that just said “hi :)”. He saved the number and gave Clint a smile and a wave as he turned back to the bar.

“Ok. See you around then?”

“Sure. Maybe you can teach me some of those dance moves someday.”

“Sure.” He stepped inside, the saturated atmosphere immediately weighing on him. Natasha and Jess were slow-dancing. They smiled at him as he crossed the dancefloor, settling back next to Steve and fiddling with the wrist joint of his prosthesis.

[jess-oh]

Reflection

Hello journal!

I did not reach the 10k steps today and fear I am falling behind my friends but I just gotta work harder and catch up tomorrow!

I started choreographing “My God is Powerful” earlier today while waiting for the bus and a bit while waiting for the train and I did feel a little self conscious bc I didn’t want people to think I was crazy but I think I did a pretty good job at keeping myself accountable and just trying not to think about what they thought. I thought about what moves to do to and from work as well! I think I got the majority of it done but there are a still a couple parts I’m a little cautious of that I’m not super happy with. I mostly need a replacement for “powerful” instead of just pointing up all the time. It feels a bit redundant. I’m thinking of doing something else during the verse so it isnt so repetitive? I gotta do some more research but I do want to try and get it done and record it for Jenny by tonight and then keep practicing it tomorrow while also starting on the next song. I want to have at least 2 songs done by Sunday. 3 if I really try. I don’t think I can get all 5 done and be confident in them all and plus, I only have an hour to teach anyway so assuming not every song is super easy to learn, this is going to take a while. I want to figure out how to best teach it to. I think I’m going to do it once fully through with the music and then divide and conquer. We’ll learn one verse/chorus at a time with no music, try just that portion with music, and continue to practice. And then we’ll move onto the next part and do just that portion. And then both pieces together. And continuously add on another piece, bit by bit. I’ve only ever tutored in intimate settings but never taught a class so I am a little nervous but I’m also excited too. While choreographing, I remembered how fun these songs were.

Because I’m really not that close with anyone on the guat team except maybe judy, ive been questioning if i was just delusional. but i was ready a couple old posts and it reminded me of our training days together. they were hard and i dont think we were super close but we definitely got along and i am really blessed that i got to serve with them. 

ive been doing a lot of reflecting too. especially on my commute back home from work today since my earbuds died. and im starting to process how things were my fault as well. i definitely had severe victim mentality before though i’d never admit it. and i did blame other people for my shortcomings a lot instead of looking at my own thought process and personality. i think i’ve said it was my fault too but never really ever took responsibility for it and i should have. i held people to unreasonably high expectations and was really harsh with my rule. probably because thats how i treated myself and i expected everyone to function at the same level when obviously, not everyone was created to be that way. i also thought about james since i had the hardest time getting along with him. i did have a crush on him in middle school and i do really wish i could just take ever saying anything back. and i did look to him a lot for approval our senior year. but i dont think it was bc i had a crush on him again. i think i was just so desperate for his approval bc if he accepted me, that meant everyone else could too. but why was i so afraid to talk to the guys anyway? theyre just people and as human as anyone else. i spent so long fearing that i was too loud or too passionate or praying too hard and it did really stunt my faith bc there was a fear of really letting go. i think sa-rang’s biggest issue is its emphasis on community which is a weird thing to say. bc community is definitely important. but i think it becomes toxic when community becomes more important than being real with God. I spent so long hearing people gossip, constantly, about such stupid things and as a result, I was so scared that there were saying the same things about me. But honestly, who am I to judge bc I gossip all the time too. As much as I hate to admit it, I do vent about other people and point out their flaws bc I’m insecure and it’s so stupid and I’ve made up countless excuses saying that it’s my only way to connect with other people bc thats all they talk about or how i cant tell the different b/w gossiping and venting when in reality, there is no line. it’s the same. i was just being a fool. whenever i vent, im venting to vent and not bc im seeking advice. im venting bc im angry and frustrated and want someone to listen. and thats why this journal is so important. i cant help that im angry sometimes so let me write them in my private journal here instead of spreading negative thoughts and emotions. let me process it and approach the problem with a clear head instead of acting out of rage and emotion. i have a lot of growing to do.

and ive been saying that i think i just need to be so confident in myself that nothing phases me and i no longer feel the need to fit in. but honestly, that fear that i wont fit in is still there and i still really want to. and im afraid that if i am unapologetically me, bc i grew up around people that were super churchgoers, my perspective is different and thus, people wont understand or agree with me. but i do think i would rather be myself and outcasted than trying so hard to fit in and outcasted. bc at the end of the day, the only person that matters is God. and so long as I am being true to Him, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or feels. If they judge me and ridicule me for pouring my heart out unto God then so be it. I will take it as a sign that I can’t grow spiritually there and leave. But I want to give them the chance. I hope I can influence them into being unafraid and just totally raw and honest. no longer dry. no longer stunted. just so in love with Christ and drowning in His grace. I want to lead by example. I know that God has called me to Lakeview and I’m glad and I think I have started making progress in people’s lives here. But I was also raised in Sa-Rang and I think that’s of some level of importance as well. 

I always feel bad whenever I see other people just being showered in love and praise bc I don’t get that from so many different people. And I know that it’s bc theyve done more than me but I think in adapting that mentality, I tried to reach out to more people for the sake of praise instead of just to genuinely give and serve. And I want to do that instead. i want to get to a place where I can so graciously and willingly and freely give out my time and effort and services without expecting any thanks in return. And honestly, I think I’ve gotten somewhere near there. And it’s a thankless job and definitely sucks but I just need to trust in God, knowing full well that He has seen my efforts and how hard I work and is so proud of me as a result. I always felt like the loose screw at Sa-Rang and always wondered if people were just pitying me whenever they did pay any attention to me. But when I talked to Judy, or Lauren, or even Loren, they seem to actually really like me for me. I’m replaceable, sure. But there’s no one quite like me. With my unique experiences and reactions and lifestyle and choices. I am the most me that will ever and as such, God has a very specific goal in mind for my life. And I am so excited to see what it is as He continues to unveil it to me. Really. I love God with all my heart and I know that I stumble in my faith sometimes and worry too much on what’s currently in front of me but He is undoubtedly real as He is shown me time and time again. Nothing will ever bring me such immediate peace as He has given me. Nothing will ever feel like His heart and love for His children, in such unbearable pain. I felt it. It was so heavy but He is so unashamed of His children and really loves each of them so dearly and so very much. And I’m hoping to continue to spread that message to anyone who needs to hear it.