#if this is stupid in my defense i am tired and anxious

[candyunicornsateme]

idea where Kenny is desperately trying so hard to confess to Kyle and just say I love you but somehow every time they get interrupted by something or someone and Kenny is a man of very few words and its hard to get alone and eventually Kyle’s on the brink of insanity like “fucking SAY IT KENNY” and violently shakes Kenny so much he doesn’t even hear it clear the first time

[toastsnaffler]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Cure for writer's block

So uhh have a rare pair cause I love them and my fingers slipped and I wrote this

But fr DaiChuRanPoe am I rite????

I'm done with college for like... 2 weeks until I start summer class lol. Am struggling myself with writing and motivation so I'll be p slow

Yea thats ab it, enjoy<3

___________________________________________

Chuuya x Poe (+ Dazai and Ranpo) (romantic)

Lee: Chuuya

Ler: Poe

Warnings: Tickles! Gey!

___________________________________________

Poe let out a frustrated sigh, pen swiveling across his fingers before being carelessly dropped on the desk. This caught Chuuya’s attention. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just—”

“Stuck?”

Poe let out a tired sigh “Yeah… My head keeps pulling a blank on this next section”

“Hmm… mind if I take a look?”

“I was hoping to show you once it was done, but if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all! I’m happy to be of service” Chuuya smiled, causing Poe to return one out of gratitude.

Fancy hat made his way over to his lover’s lap and took the manuscript, starting to read what Poe had written so far.

This was the first time Chuuya read one of his drafts. Ranpo has read countless of them, despite the author wanting to write something to finally stump him. Even Dazai has snooped at his work, but not Chuuya. It felt… flustering? His face surely felt warm.

Poe’s anxious thoughts started to scramble in his head over Chuuya’s reaction. What would he think? What would he say? What if he didn’t like it?! He had an arm around the ginger’s middle, his fingers lightly tapping along the other’s waist as a way to release the nervous jitters.

“Hngh—” Chuuya’s breath hitched from the touch. It didn’t go unnoticed by the author, if anything, Poe had a look of amusement on his face.

He let out a quiet chuckle and asked “Ticklish, love?”

“Of course not!” The ginger spat out quickly in a defensive manner, his own cheeks starting to flare up. “Now let me read” he grumbled, returning his attention to the papers at hand.

Poe tried holding back a laugh, instead letting out a snort at the situation at hand. Who would’ve thought that his mafioso of a boyfriend would be adorably sensitive? He leaned towards Chuuya’s neck and started planting soft kisses along the skin, while his hand lightly skittered over the shorter male’s abdomen.

“Pff- Stahahap it!” Chuuya let out an involuntary laugh, squirming around from the ticklish touch.

The author grinned at the sound, now using both hands to attack at the ginger’s tummy and sides as his lips brushed close to his ear. “Didn’t know my writing was that funny~”

“Gohohod! You teheheasy bastard! You’re just as bahahad as that stupid Dahazai!” Chuuya threw his head back against Poe’s chest, all while giggling like a little boy.

“Oh? I’m a teasing bastard now?” Poe gave off a devious smirk. “Should I tell Dazai about how cute and sensitive you are?~” he asked with a teasing tone, his fingertips tracing up and down the ginger’s sides.

“NO!” I’ll kihihill you!” Chuuya tried seeming all serious, but everytime he spoke up, he’d dissolve into a fit of giggles all over again.

“I dunno… you’re gonna have to convince me not to tell him~” Poe’s fingers trailed up until he reached his ribs, giving them a light squeeze.

“EEP!” Chuuya’s body jerked violently, almost flinging off of Poe if it weren’t for his grip. “I’ll doho anything!”.

Normally Chuuya would never give in so easily, but any sense of confidence would go out the window once Dazai was involved. Not that he’d admit to that out loud.

Poe let out a soft hum, pretending to think about it. “Anything, hmm?” Another amused snort escaped him as the ginger nodded his head furiously. “I think I know…~” with that, he gently lifted Chuuya’s arms above his head and dug his wiggly fingers against the exposed skin of his armpits.

“GYAH!!! EDDIEEEEHEHEHEHE!” poor Chuuya shrieked and cackled at the top of his lungs. His face beet red and hair all tussled. Poe was having a blast seeing his hotheaded boyfriend laughing up a storm.

“What a perfect way to wait out writer’s block. You’ve been of much help~” Poe teased, letting out a chuckle of his own as he kept tickling Chuuya to pieces. Despite being shorter, they both know that Chuuya has the strength to escape whenever he wants, but we won’t mention that.

Outside of Poe’s study, there’s a pair of brown and green eyes watching the scene go down. Snickering to themselves as they take pictures and recordings, mainly Dazai as a way to blackmail Chuuya later on, but for now he’ll let the two have their fun.

___________________________________________

The bsd brainrot is p bad. Got stormbringer and first vol of age 15 so maybe more bsd fics?? 👀

[creativebrainrot]

okay rambling time actually

i have so many identity issues (?) no one ever really sees me the way i see my self and i know thats because im currently incapable of allowing myself to act as I am due to my trauma caused by my father.

a n y confidence or personal opinion i dared to state as fact would get interrogated or questions or invalidated and that's resulted in me constantly, involuntarily, cushioning all my language in the tone "or whatever lol something like that lmao idk im just a stupid silly little guy!!! ive never had a thought ever lol lmao !!!!!!!!!" and I genuinely resent that.

its hard to break out of though because I do, also, enjoy purposefully joking like that. I can draw a line between that and my default behavior, its just hard; since the divorce, since his death, since finally being well and truly free, I have had to re-write myself. I'm doing better than ever yeah, this so called chrysalis phase of my life has by all account been awfully stress free, I am grateful for that.

I will never be grateful for being forced in to the molds I was by my father, I hope he rots alone in purgatory. To get back on topic- I am trying to 'fix' this, to rewrite myself into who I really am. It's kinda hard though; when your default is 120% "heehoo i am a sillay little gnome ive never had a thought in my life i am goofy !!!!" then anytime you do speak, plainly, like anyone else would, you feel like all of a sudden you're being "harsh" or "too serious." I know thats not true but part of me does, at least a little, fear that when I've grown into who I want to be the ones I love now won't be there / won't love me the same- I know that's unlikely, I know it won't happen, that if we fade from eachother it'd probably be for other reasons than my speech changing slightly. Because nothing else will change about me I'm not going to actually "get meaner" i'm simply a little frightened that's how it would sound to some.

But, you know. if, self-confidence and the real personality I have coming forward means I lose friends then were we ever really friends? in a way. I don't know but anyway that's only a small fear because I have deadpan phases and deadpan friends/people around me already.

It's the convincing myself to stop panicking everytime I let myself be confident or stoic or sure and secure. The day I've worked through most of the trauma that causes me intense anxiousness and insecurity is the day I can finally thrive and be me.

You don't know how tired I am of cushioning myself in language and tone that says "I am small. I am anxious. I am silly, goofy, tiny, harmless. I am not a threat. I am incapable of being a threat."

because people listen to you. and now that my father is dead and gone I got nothing to be traumatically defensive about like that.

[meanderingthoughtsofthewretched]

Back again.

Another night staying up way too late crying because am I’m trying to fall asleep my brain starts dredging up shit. I was done literally less than an hour ago, but now? Crying again and I know I won’t stop for a while unless I actively distract myself, so might as well type here.

I guess I’ll start with the big one. I was not accepted into grad school. Again. For the *third fucking year in a row*. When I first got the news I was sad, sure, but more than that I was just pissed. I tried *so fucking hard* because *no one* was helping me. I don’t know what people want, what they expect, and I’m just flailing around in the dark.

Yeah, I know the first year was my bad. In my defense, I had not clue what I was doing. I spent wayyyyy too long studying for the stupid fuckjng GRE (why the shit do they have math that I haven’t seen since 7th grade????) and not near enough time on the statement of purpose, cv, or resume. But also in my defense, I didn’t know what schools I was trying to apply for because I was *literally* told certain ones I was not allowed to go to (which I bet my dad conveniently forgot he did) and then the ones I found I was told sucked ass. By the time I was told this (because of course no one fucking told me on their own, I had to fuck up first) it was too late to apply for any of the good ones. Yes, I was someone picky, but god forbid the tiny short ass 100 pound soaking wet sheltered kid not want to go across country **by herself** with *no drivers license or car* and no experience living in an apartment. So I applied to where I could and crossed my fingers.

Obviously, that didn’t work out. Year two, I tried to go for one school only, that way I could tailor my letter better. I thought I did good, but the panic attacks I got any time o tried to work on it made it take too long, and one of my profs didn’t get their letter of recommendation in on time, this I was auto denied. Which sucks, but I understood why.

So try again! Except, the time when I could have been connecting with profs, and writing, I had to spend relearning how to drive and then actually taking the damn test. Fuck, I hated that entire experience. I was constantly anxious and panicked, crying myself to sleep most nights and struggling to hold it together in front of my parents, who were acting like it was the easiest thing in the world to do and didn’t understand why I was struggling. I had to redo everything because wow! Paperwork can expire! And when I last did all of this *two fucking years earlier* they didn’t help me, and left me to flounder. I don’t know why they thought I could magically learn how to drive a car without *being in one* but I guess it didn’t matter that much to them until it was an inconvenience and actually affected them.

Anyways, this year I don’t know why I didn’t get it. I can only guess. Was it because I only had one bio prof, and the other two were other branches? (Earlier prof who got in late decided she just… didn’t want to, and made it my problem because she also took almost a month to answer me, requiring me to find a prof that was willing to write on an incredibly short notice.) Was it because it was turned in close to the deadline? If so, why have the deadline there??? It makes no sense. And I hate that it is during winter break, because if something goes wrong you have to work your ass off to get anyone to answer you about stuff. I also couldn’t show that I was upset, or worried, because that might have made my lil sister upsetti about going back for another semester 🙃

Every single. Fucking. Time I have any problems, someone else has it worse so I have to bite my tongue to not make it worse *for them*. Especially the bean. Jesus I hate that I’m here essentially as an emotional support sister, because my parents were tired of her losing her shit at the smallest things.

And yet!!! She has her life together!! Holy fuck! She’s got a car that she likes that she is confortable driving, a boyfriend who is willing to come see her at the drop of a hat, friends who she regularly sees and hangs out with and are willing to take her places, gaming consoles that are just hers, and a place to stay that is away from parents and where she feels she can be herself. She’s got a job and an internship *paid*, like **well paid** coming up that will likely lead her to other jobs, profs that like her and have said they are willing to write her recommendations, and it’s all been handed to her on a fucking platter.

I was not allowed to learn how to drive until now, much less have a car. No significant other to see or hang with. Friends are far away and don’t bother initiating contact (I have a whole rant saved for later about that). I’ve literally never had my own console to play on, they have all been shared and eventually taken away by my siblings, much less the tv and projector she has. I feel trapped here, and watched. I was literally not allowed to have a job and now can’t do anything because the walkable things are for students only and *I don’t have a fucking car*. One of my profs straight up said she doesn’t want to bother writing for me anymore because I’m not worth it. Basically any opportunity in college was squashed thanks to COVID and me not taking a year off when I should have. And now all opportunities are limited to students so I can’t even get any more experience to try and because a student to actually move on in life. And I just??? What the fuck am I supposed to do??? All I can do is cry.

I haven’t told my dad yet, I have no idea how he will take it. He will probably get mad.

My mum actually had the gall to ask me if I actually want to get a masters. I told her yes, but in reality?? How the fuck should I know??? I was never allowed to have a damn opinion about things involving my life, why start now?? She was the one who decided my life path, hell she tried to decide that for all my siblings, and I was the only one who didn’t say no. So, no, I don’t know if I actually want this, I don’t know what I want to do at all, this is her dream. Be been so damn depressed for so long, all I want is to have a stable life.

All I want is somewhere to live with people I choose, who I don’t feel obligated to take care of, a stable job that pays decently so I can occasionally get things I like, and isn’t soul crushing, a car that gets me places safely, and the ability to breathe without being constantly stressed out.

Is that really so much to ask???

I’ll do the friend rant later, but I’m. Too tired. It took over an hour to write this and it’s just ramble at this point.

Fuck

[alaezasmystery235]

Hey ! So the reblog of your rant, and I painfully see my younger self in your post, so here I am.

TW : Mention of suicide (idea and attempt), physical threats, verbal abuse

I hope you're ok, or at least feeling better than you did in your post. I know I'm a anonymous voice on the internet, but I know what you've been through, you have no idea how much it resonate with me (the verbal abuse from a parent, and that feeling of infinite loneliness- I'm afraid a lot of us feel that way). So maybe I can offer you my wisdom, of how I didn't kill myself despite the many nights I wanted to do it.

I don't know about your situation (familial or financial). But know that your mother has absolutely NO RIGHT to talk to you like that. It doesn't matter whether she's your mom or not, NO ONE should talk like that to someone else EVER. Again, I don't know what your situation is (if you live with her, if you can financially support yourself etc...) but, if that kind of abuse is common no matter how hard you try to tell her to stop, and if you have the opportunity to do it, get the f*** away from her. Again, it doesn't matter if she's your mom or not. If she keeps bringing you down to the point you want to kill yourself, she's not a positive influence in your life, probably won't ever be, and you don't need her.

I know it's easier said than done, believe me. My dad's like that. (Sorry in advance of rambling) I was never enough (too fat, not good enough grades, not "feminine" enough,...). No matter how hard I tried to please him, it was NEVER good enough. What happened was, when I did good, he "dismiss" me, telling me I was doing that for myself, when I had a hard time (failing medecine, being too depressed and anxious about my future to do anything), he put me through hell (threatening me to beat me up, not taking my defense when my mom did hit me "I'll do to you worse than she did", telling me to cut my throat quickly so he "doesn't have to suffer".) Ok, that kind of shit. And at a point, I just had enough ( when he told me to kill myself because I ate some chocolate destined for his friends - no, not joking). I never cried as hard as I did that night. My whole body was shaking like crazy, as I kept thinking about what he told me, about the want of actually doing it because I've had enough of the pain. The worse part ? He didn't tell me that when he was screaming at me for eating those STUPID chocolates. He told me that while I was shaking and crying in bed, in a really soft voice. And that was it. That was when I realized that no matter how hard I tried to tell him his words hurt me deeply, he would never listen to me. And at that time, I was tired of doing nothing of my life, and of building myself up every week after his harsh words or passive aggressive comments (like the facts my friends, in college, were mocking me because I didn't succeed right away). So I decided to stop seeing him, plain and simple. I took advantage of the fact that my parents were divorcing and stop going to his place when it was his week. I told him that I was tired to be shout at every time I go there, so I wouldn't come. And I blocked him absolutely everywhere (phone, mails,...). And it was hard, I'm not gonna lie and tell you it isn't hard. He's an asshole, but he stays my father, and I was heartbroken to cut him off because he kept dragging me down. I dreamed of him a lot the first couple of months. After that, I alternated period where I felt like a badass, and period where I was asking myself if I've made the right choice. Luckily, I've written a list of every awful stuff he did or say to me when I was depressed. Every time I've doubted, I look at the list and reminded myself that I've made the right choice. And girl, I did. It was really the right choice. I improved so much when I stopped talking to him. It was hard, because for every new things I tried, I kept hearing his voice telling me I was messing up, I wasn't enough... Eventually, I learned to tell that voice to f*** o**. And I stopped looking at the list a couple of months ago. It took me three years to get rid of the guilt, when I realized that since I was gone, he was putting my younger siblings through the same shit. My younger sister even felt suicidal and did an attempt when she was fucking 12.

Conclusion : always choose yourself, and trust your gut. If you don't feel good in this situation, no matter what you tell yourself to convince yourself the situation is normal, then you need to get out. It's hard as f***, but it's doable. And you'll be alright at the end.

Thank you for reaching out to me . Somehow it felt a knowing sense that I'm not alone , who is / has facing this situations . Tbh when your own family members do shit like this , it hurts so so bad . But what happened you can't change it . So the only option is to move on and have hope that every thing will come good at the end. Thank you for sharing your story , it means a lot to me 🫂💖.

[stratiotis-nth]

Castiel has been able to see Glimpses of people’s future when he meets them for the first time—specifically when he first makes eye contact. It’s the big family secret and Castiel hates that he’s the one stuck with it. It’s infuriating—Gabriel asks if Castiel could make eye contact with some hot guy or girl to see if he’ll get lucky, and Castiel ignores him every time.

He doesn’t see the person’s entire life when he looks like them. It’s more like…a tsunami of information. Sometimes it’s images or feelings or sounds. Usually, Castiel can’t make heads or tails of what he experienced, so he stopped trying to interpret them a long time ago.

At this point, the flood of information is an annoyance, and he’s done his best to just avoid eye contact altogether.

Maybe that’s why Castiel is so quiet and keeps to himself. He doesn’t like meeting new people if only to avoid the data dump of another person’s future. He’s thankful he doesn’t get Glimpses when he looks at anyone he’s already Glimpsed, because he’s never be able to look Gabriel in the face. And anyone who Castiel had accidentally Glimpsed before have long since disappeared from his life, and Castiel is such a recluse that he hasn’t had a new friend in years.

Until Gabriel was an annoying asshole.

His older brother practically wrestled Castiel out of the house they shared to go clubbing. It had been a close fight and Castiel had gotten damn well near to biting Gabriel’s arm—but he eventually lost because Gabriel threatened to trample Castiel’s carefully cultivated garden in the backyard.

For the sake of his plants, Castiel reluctantly ducked into Gabriel’s obnoxiously bright red Camero.

“This is a stupid idea.” He grumbled, crossing his arms and keeping his hands tucked firmly against himself. “I’m just going to be standing there staring at the floor like an idiot.”

“No, you’re gonna keep that chin up and meet some people, Cassie.” Gabriel said briskly as they drove to Downtown. “Glimpsing a few people isn’t gonna change your life. You need friends, my bumbling, weirdo brother.”

“I can live my life just fine without friends, Gabriel.” Castiel snapped. “I have you, my cat, and my garden. I work from home and can support myself if needs be. What else do I need?”

Gabriel sighed.

“You’ll always have me, Cassie.” He said. “But have you ever thought about what you want?”

No. Of course he hadn’t. Castiel hadn’t had the luxury of knowing what he wanted since he first discovered the Glimpses.

“Your Glimpses shouldn’t be what stops you from having a life, little bro.” Gabriel continued firmly. They were in Downtown now, string lights lighting the two way street and neon signs making the air gleam in multicolor. Castiel’s chest clenched with anxiety, carefully avoiding the stream of bodies moving up and down the sidewalks in case he made eye contact with as passers by.

Gabriel pulled into the VIP spot of his nightclub, Sugar+Spice and grinned at Castiel.

“C’mon, brosky, time to swim amongst the fishes.” To complete Gabriel’s inspiring speech, he slapped two condoms into Castiel’s hand and ducked out of the car before he could throw them back.

Grumbling under his breath about invasive brothers, Castiel begrudgingly followed Gabriel through the back entrance of the club.

It was loud, hot, and chaotic. Despite not having made eye contact with anyone yet, Castiel’s senses were immediately overloaded with noise and light. He could barely hear Gabriel over the din, risking a glance up in an effort to read his lips.

This way. He seemed to be shouting. Gabriel grabbed his hand and tugged him along anyway. Castiel allowed himself to be dragged, bumping through a crowd of people with his eyes fixed on their passing feet.

Gabriel took him up to a slightly quieter, less crowded second floor and sat him down at the bar.

“Alfie!” Gabriel called to the bartender, rapping his knuckles on the glass bar top. “Dirty Shirley for my fruity brother!”

“Gabriel!” Castiel hissed. He didn’t necessarily care if people knew he was gay, but he didn’t want Gabriel going on trying to get him laid.

“Coming up, boss.” Alfie called, already moving nonstop and smoothly as he tended to the other patrons lining his bar top.

“See ya, Cassie.” Gabriel clapped his shoulder. Castiel’s heart seized with terror.

“Gabriel, don’t you dare—“

“Sorry little bro, I’ve got club owner responsibilities to attend to.”

And then, Castiel was alone. Alfie’s slim hand set a red-pink colored drink in front of him and moved on before Castiel could think he would wait a second for a thanks. He was probably too busy to care for social expectations like please and thank you.

Castiel didn’t know how long he had sat there, hunched over his drink and staring at the bar top resolutely. Gabriel could drag his ass into public, but he couldn’t make him talk to people.

People seemed to catch the hint to leave him alone, or maybe Alfie had warned them against it before Castiel could sense their presence. Some tried, though, but Castiel just shook his head. That was usually enough to leave him be.

It was well after 1 AM when he’d finally had enough sitting around and staring at his drink to ward off horny one nighters. He stood, determined to find Gabriel and force him to take him home. He was tired, anxious, and terrified of this place and of people. He didn’t like Glimpsing—it was like intruding into their privacy and instead of doing it intentionally like how a burglar would invade a home, it was hurled at him when he didn’t want it. The last time Castiel had Glimpsed, the images and noises had been too much. It had overloaded his mind and nearly made him pass out from the onslaught.

The last time he had Glimpsed was the first time he’d met a future serial killer. One could imagine why Castiel didn’t like Glimpsing anymore.

He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to find Gabriel’s recognizable white dress shoes amongst the writhing sea of legs and lower bodies.

Castiel finally reached the stairs, the door swinging shut and blessedly blocking out the din of the dance floor. The peaceful silent lasted for only a moment, though.

“Whoa, Jesus!”

Castiel slammed into a very solid form and went tumbling backwards, his back hitting the bottom staircase with a painful thud before he toppled back onto the concrete floor.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry! Jesus fuck, here, lemme help—“

The person he collided into was scrabbling down the last few stairs, kneeling over him and grabbing his arms.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Castiel’s entire body was ringing with the aftershock of his fall. His back throbbed painfully, already promising a nice purpling welt.

Maybe it was the pain, or maybe the ringing in his head muted out higher reason, or maybe just fate, but Castiel drifted his gaze to stare at the person who had run into him.

The moment he met the pair of green eyes the color of matcha and wild grass, he was assaulted with an onslaught of Glimpses.

Warm, comforting yellow and orange, the color that light up a home on a cozy, winter night.

The sizzle, pop and bang of fireworks in a dewy field, ringing with a pair of laughter. Bursting, bright colors lighting up a starry sky.

Metallic, greasy smell of an auto shop, the sharp chemical scent of acrylic paint, the words Winchester Auto in neon lights on the top of a busy garage and art studio.

But the main image, the one that always came through crystal clear when he had a Glimpse—

was Castiel himself.

He couldn’t force the image away, or what followed after.

It was Castiel, looming over the man’s point of view with his arms braced on either of his vision. His own face was slack with pleasure as his entire body moved up and down in a very obvious thrusting motion. His eyes were bright and wide and so full of something warm and gentle and careful that Castiel didn’t believe he could ever really do that.

He closed his eyes, willing the main image and surrounding flashes of senses to fade.

“Dude, please tell me you’re okay.” The man fretted, his hands now cupping Castiel’s face and shaking slightly. The way the man was leaning over him looked so much like how Castiel was leaning in the Glimpse that it brought him back to himself.

He sat bolt upright, smacking foreheads with the man and immediately making himself dizzy again.

“Ow.” They both mumbled. The guy scrambled back to give Castiel some space.

“You okay, man?” The guy asked again, staring at him with wide eyes. Castiel’s first reaction was to advert his eyes, but this time for an entirely different reason than the Glimpse. His cheeks burned with the embarrassment of what he had just witnessed.

“Yes.” He managed, but it sounded strained. The man, apparently took that strain as pain instead of mortification.

“Oh shit, you’re probably all banged up, shit. Did the stair hit your back? Did it break the skin?” Suddenly, warm hands were gingerly touching his lower back, feeling for the welt already swelling. Electrical shocks rippled under his skin despite the layers of clothes between him and the hand, but Castiel hissed sharply when the pressure of his fingers hit the welt.

“Sorry, hang on. Don’t move too much, not until I can be sure you didn’t break anything.” The guy was completely unfazed by touching Castiel. It was a gentle touch, but definitely clinical. Was this guy a nurse? Doctor?

“I used to be a paramedic.” The guy answered Castiel’s unspoken speculation. He gently pressed around the welt. “Anything hurt?”

“No.” Castiel managed faintly, his brain already providing unhelpful scenarios where the man’s hand drifted lower and suddenly his last Glimpse was coming true right then and there—

“Okay, I don’t think anything’s broken.” The guy said, sounding relieved. “Can you stand?”

“Yes. It’s just a bruise.” Castiel said, his defenses rising with the determination to never allow that last Glimpse to come true. There were too many risks, too many dangers associated with having friends, let alone pursue a romantic relationship. For this man’s sake and for Castiel’s sanity, he would do everything in his power to stop that Glimpse from happening.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He said quickly, stepping back to allow an acceptable amount of space between him and the man.

“Okay, uh, good.” The guy said, ducking his head sheepishly.

Please don’t. Castiel begged helplessly, staring as the man glanced up at him through his lashes. He was undeniably gorgeous. Light brown hair styled lightly and freckled, tanned skin. Those enrapturing green eyes that made Castiel want to smother himself in that very shade, framed by long lashes. Plush pink lips and a little scruff that Castiel wanted to feel on his skin. Broad shoulders filled a worn leather jacket over a flannel and Henley. Oil-stained jeans and scuffed boots. Rugged and beautiful.

What the hell did future Castiel do to secure a night with this man? How did an awkward, nobody with a fear of people manage to have sex with this perfect, gorgeous man who could get anyone he wanted?

“Sorry about that, man. I swear I don’t go running into hot guys as a pick up line.”

Castiel’s jaw dropped, and the man went very red when he realized what he’d said.

“Ah, fuck. I-I didn’t mean, that’s n-not—shit, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—“

“It’s alright.” Castiel cut him off hastily. “I’ve actually got to go. I’m supposed to meet my brother and he’s probably worried that I haven’t shown up.”

The man looked embarrassed but startled by Castiel’s hasty retreat. But he moved to let him up the stairs.

He was already a few steps up when the man spoke again.

“Sorry again, man.”

It was a mistake to turn back around, but Castiel did, perhaps selfish enough to indulge in the man’s beauty one more time.

Then something happened that never happened before. Castiel had another Glimpse when he met his eyes.

It was gentler than the first, like an aftershock after an A-bomb.

Deep, sweet spices mixed with buttery pie dough and tangy apple.

A warm, soft red that enveloping his entire body like an embrace to protect and cherish.

The man’s deep, rough voice murmuring “Cas” with such profound affection and care.

Then, Castiel’s voice answering in the same low, gentle caress of soft happiness—“Dean”.

This could not be happening.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Trapped

Summary: After Negan and Maggie become trapped in a home from The Reapers' attack on the group, they are forced to be together to talk about the tension going on between them.

Characters: Negan & Maggie

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33529606

Warnings: Swearing, smut, mild dubious consent, rough sex, hate sex, etc.

Notes: This was a request. At first, I thought it was a joke, but when the person wrote me very kindly to ask me for this, I agreed. I know Negan and Maggie as a couple would enrage a big part of the fandom. If that's you, just don't read the story. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I hope the person who asked me for it enjoys it. Warning, this does have some spoilers from the end of episode 2, in case you haven't seen the episode yet.

“Come on,” Negan called out, waving his hand on when he made it to the broken-down home that he had found with Maggie while running away from the attack that The Reapers brought down on their group.

Clinging desperately to the door at his side, Negan waited for Maggie to catch up and the moment she made it into the home, he slammed the door shut behind her. Immediately locking up the door, he reached for the nearest china cabinet that was right beside the door to block off the doorway. Testing the weight of the cabinet, Negan made sure it would definitely be hard for someone to open the door. There was no way someone could open that door without struggling to do so.

The windows were already boarded up and Negan moved over toward one of them to look through the gaps that were there to see if they had been followed. Thank God, it seemed like they had snuck away without being spotted. Then again, these people were good. They could be out there and they would have never even known it until one of them got hit again. Fuck. How did he get stuck in a situation like this? He knew that he should have said no when they asked him to come on this trip. For some reason, he just felt forced into trying to continue to prove his worth in the community. Then again, if he would have said no to begin with, he was certain they would have forced him anyways. There was no way that Maggie would have let him stay back in Alexandria. There was a reason he was here and he knew that by now.

After standing there for a few minutes to make sure there was no movement in the distance, it seemed like they were safe and Negan took a moment to finally catch his breath. “I think we are safe. For now.”

When he turned on his heel, he let out a grunt when he saw that Maggie had her gun raised once more at him. It was pointed directly at his face and Negan held his hands up in the air defensively. “What now?”

“You made me leave them,” Maggie scowled, her face scrunched up in rage making Negan theatrically bob his head before lowering his hands at his sides. An irritated smirk pressed in over his exhausted features and he shrugged his shoulders. Here they were again. He did something right and that led him to having a gun pointed at his face. This seemed like it was going to be a never-ending cycle between them. “I could have saved Agatha. We could have helped her.”

“If you didn’t leave and I didn’t save you, you would be walker food right now too,” Negan snapped, his eyes narrowing while he stared out at Maggie. There was tension in the air. It wasn’t the first time she had that gun pointed at him today and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. “Instead of letting you die, I saved you. Your friends…all of em’, they are dead. There was nothing you could do to save them. You would have lost your life if you would have tried.”

“Those people were like my family. It should have been you out there instead of them!” she declared making Negan mutter something under his breath and roll his eyes when she said that. Somehow, he managed to save her life and he was still the bad guy. If he did something wrong, he was the bad guy. If he did something right, he was still the bad guy. There was no escaping this tiresome cycle. “They were some of the best fighters I knew.”

“Well clearly it doesn’t matter how good of a fighter you are when it comes to these people. You are dealing with master tacticians here Maggie. If you would have stayed and I didn’t do what I did, we wouldn’t be having this little stand off right now. You would be dead if I didn’t do what I did,” Negan pointed out, wiggling his fingers between the two of them, his eyes big with annoyance. “I made sure that your little boy just might have a chance that his mother might return to him after all of this.”

There was a deafening silence that fell over the both of them and Maggie’s eyes narrowed. A moment later her gun lowered. At this point, he was just getting sick of constantly being threatened with death even when he was doing something morally right. Negan wobbled over to the stairs to see that the upstairs area was blocked off. Checking the rest of the house, Negan confirmed that they would be safe in the small living room that they were locked up in. Everything else in the house appeared to be locked up very well.

A pained wince fell from his throat when an ache flooded down his right leg. Looking down toward his leg that had gotten injured in the attack, Negan could see the blood that was seeping through his pants. After the injury, he had wrapped the bandana around his leg to stop the bleeding, but who knew if it was actually fucking working. It burned like hell.

“This is your moment to relax. Gather yourself. In case they find us again. ‘Cause we are either going to have to run like hell or fight back,” Negan instructed, nodding over toward one of the chairs that was in the corner of the room. Instead of listening to him, she simply glared at him and Negan threw his hands up in the air. If she wasn’t going to take the time to do it, he was. “Or just ignore me. It’s not like I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about or anything.”

Moving over toward the corner of the living room, he dropped down in the corner to rest himself. Clutching tightly to the tire iron in his hands, Negan surveyed the dark room around them. The lights from the cracks in the boarded-up windows is what filled the house with light and he grumbled to himself. The house looked like it had seen better days. The green walls had dirt caked on them and there was a smell of mildew that lingered in the air. A floral chair was sitting upright in the corner and Negan found himself surprised that even though this place was a mess, that it still looked somewhat livable. Setting the tire iron aside, Negan tried to give himself a moment to let the tension from his body leave him. If he continued to be anxious, he knew it would make him fuck up. In order to get through this alive, he knew that his mind needed to be clear.

Loud, uneven breaths fell from Negan’s throat. Dropping his head back against the wall, Negan bit down firmly on his bottom lip and groaned when he felt the pain radiating from his leg. Clearing his mind and thinking of a plan was hard to do with the immense ache. Lazily, his eyes opened and he could see that Maggie was looking him over from where she was standing by the window. Her eyes locked onto his leg and the expression over her face was cold.

“I hope it hurts,” Maggie slurred after finally moving over toward one of the seats at the other end of the room and it made Negan crack a smile after she said that. Nodding, he looked down toward his leg and let out a grumble.

“It does. You’re in luck,” Negan sneered back knowing that things had been tense since the subway station between the two of them. Well, hell…they were always tense. Just not trying to save Maggie when she slipped undoubtedly made everything worse. It felt like only a minute had passed before Maggie was getting up from where she was seated to pace through the living room. She was looking from window to window as if trying to come up with a plan. “You’re going to wear a hole in the damn floor with the pacing if you keep that shit up.”

“Do you ever shut up?” she jeered and it made Negan snicker. Part of him wanted to be a smart ass and give her the answer he often would others, but instead he stayed quiet. “I’m trying to think of a way to go back. Maybe one of them…”

“None of them made it out Maggie. They are gone. You saw it. I saw it. Pretending that you can somehow save them is only going to get you killed. We need to move forward,” Negan instructed, swallowing down hard. Visibly she hated the answer, but so did he. The more numbers they had, the better chance they had against The Reapers. It was just the two of them and they had no chance of making this work. “Before we keeping moving, we first need to take a few minutes to gather our strength. If we run on empty, we’re just going to be easy targets for these people. You saw how easily they killed everyone. We have no chance just the two of us.”

Instead of listening to him, she continued to stare outside the cracks in the window. With a frustrated grunt, Negan reached to pinch at the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “You know, just because you hate me doesn’t mean you have to be stupid. Sometimes I know what the hell I’m doing and saying. I could be helping you here.”

“You don’t care about helping,” she yelled at him from where she was standing by the windows and Negan dramatically threw his hands up in the air before rolling his eyes. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit.”

“You’re right. I don’t give a shit. If I didn’t give a shit, I would have left you to die! I didn’t!” Negan maintained, his eyes getting dark with anger when he rose his voice back at her. “I am so sick of you people telling me how I feel and what I’m doing when my actions are going against what you are actually saying. You’re right, I left you there at the subway train, but let’s be honest you would have pushed me off the fucking thing if roles were reversed and you fucking know it.”

There was a silence and her face twisted with an emotion he couldn’t quite read. Lifting his finger, he spun it in the air and pointed at her, “Exactly! You would have and you know it! But I just saved you a few minutes ago. I could have just left you to die and then I would have been fine. You would have been out of my life and I would have been so much safer. Yet here we are after I just saved your ass!”

Maggie’s face twitched in irritation after he said that and a defeated breath fell from her lungs. She moved over to the opposite side of the living room and dropped down in the corner facing straight at him. Her bright eyes glared out at him and pierced through him making an uncomfortable sigh escape his throat.

“Listen,” Negan panted, still trying to catch his breath. His heart was hammering inside of his chest and he reached up to wipe at his face with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry that your friends died out there. I know that…”

“Don’t,” she held her hand up in the air to cut him off, to keep him from saying anything else. “You’re not someone who is sorry. You may have saved my ass. Okay. But you’re not someone that is sorry. If you were sorry, you would have already apologized a long time ago. You’re a cold, dark piece of shit. Where your heart should be is a blackhole of emptiness. So don’t sell me that you are sorry.”

“Are you talking about Glenn?” Negan inquired, his thick eyebrows arching up when her head tilted to the side. Yeah, he fucked up knowing that she hated even the sound of Glenn’s name falling from his lips. “What would apologizing for what I did to Glenn do for you?”

“Shut up,” she demanded and Negan shook his head, his loud breathing filling the air around them. “Don’t say his name.”

“Are you telling me that saying I’m sorry for what I did to Glenn would make you feel better?” Negan pushed the subject harder and his voice filled with just a little bit more venom. Her body locked up upon hearing his words. Shaking his head, he bit at his bottom lip and threw his hands up again. “Me apologizing would do absolutely nothing for you Maggie! It won’t bring Glenn back. It won’t make up for the pain and the agony I caused you. It won’t bring your little boy’s father back…”

Almost immediately Maggie stood up from the ground and stomped over toward the corner where Negan was to whip the gun against the side of Negan’s face again. This time it connected hard enough for him to get a bloody nose. The taste of his blood over his lips was enough for him to prove that. Instead of moving, Negan watched as Maggie brough the gun up to point at him again.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say Maggie. Do I regret what I did? Every fucking day of my life. I didn’t know you were pregnant, but at the time I didn’t give a shit. I saw a group that killed my people and I was out to get revenge. I thought back then the man I became was the man I was supposed to be. I was wrong. I didn’t think about the awful, horrible things I was doing, but me apologizing is not going to make up for the things that I did,” Negan insisted with a sadness in his tone, his hazel eyes almost tearing over as he spoke. “I still did those things. Yeah, I’m the not man I used to be anymore. I hate what I did to people. I hate the man I became. I hate the person that I was. I wish I could go back, but I can’t. But what good would apologizing do? I can’t change what happened. I took the person you loved away from you. I can’t make up for that. I never will, no matter how hard I tried.”

There was rage in the way that Maggie was breathing, her finger was over the trigger and Negan’s bottom lip was trembling while he stared up at her, “So am I sorry Maggie? Yeah. I’m sorry. But does it change the way you feel about things?”

Maggie’s whole body shook while she kept the gun raised up and when she lowered the gun to look away from Negan, he cleared his throat. Pushing the blood away from his nose, Negan knew that it hurt like hell, but there were other things on his mind. Inside of his chest, he could feel his heart pounding away, but he knew that he needed to get it off his chest, “If you find peace in killing me, then do it Maggie. Do it now. Get it over with. I’m accepting of it. This cat and mouse game of constantly threatening me is helping neither of us. I’m trying to be a better man and if the threat of death is over my head all the time, then what’s the fucking point? I know you hate me. If killing me…”  

“Shut up,” she lowered down on her knees and he heard her shuddering breaths filling the air. Uncertainty filled his body at how to handle this whole situation. Getting up from the corner of the room, he moved across the room and knelt in behind her. Placing his hand over her shoulder, Negan for some unknown reason even to himself was attempting to comfort her. “Don’t…”

“Listen, I know you’ve lost a lot,” Negan began and he felt the power of her turning toward him knocking him over onto the floor.

Scrambling backwards toward the corner of the living room where he was originally, Negan knew that he wanted to let her have her space. God, that was a stupid idea. The stare she was giving him made him cuss to himself when she took her time walking over toward where he was seated. Looking up at her with his big eyes, a grunt escaped his lips when she smacked him firmly across the side of the face.

“Do you ever shut up?” Maggie repeated an earlier question, hitting at Negan’s face over and over again. Lifting his hands up, Negan tried to block his face, but her hits lowered to his chest and instead of fighting those, he let her do it. The face he wanted to keep safe so he could still think with his head when the time came, but if beating on him helped her release whatever was going on…he could handle a few bruises. “Do something!”

“No,” Negan shook his head with a grimace when she hit him determinedly in the center of the chest. There was confusion that flooded her face. A loud grunt fell from Negan’s throat when she reached out to slam her hand into the center of Negan’s throat making his head slam back against the wall. A pained sound fell from his throat that was replaced with shock when he felt her lips over his. The kiss was rough, but Negan didn’t react to it because he didn’t know what was happening. Frozen, Negan was utterly confused with her actions while she kissed at his lips with quite some strength.

When Maggie pulled away, Negan’s eyes narrowed out at her and he cleared his throat uneasily. Staring in Maggie’s vibrant green eyes, Negan knew that she was still furious with him. So, what the hell was happening here? Did he just picture that whole fucked up scenario in his mind? “What’s going on here?”

“Just, shut up Negan,” she demanded, her hand still sturdily placed over the center of his throat and Negan hummed when her mouth covered his again.

Part of him was fucking terrified still. How couldn’t he be? It just had been so long since he had the soft caress of another pair of lips over his. Because of that, his better judgement was slipping away. Gradually, he started to kiss Maggie back. The adrenaline was flooding through his body while she kissed him. There was a need to want to reach out and touch her, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides. Just now, he wasn’t holding back in returning the gesture with his lips against hers.  

“Fuck,” Negan growled out when she bit at his bottom lip and tugged on it with her teeth. Wincing when she looked him over with her big eyes, Negan didn’t know how to respond. Was that her angry at him for kissing her back? Was that her way of being rough? Pretty much right now Negan was staying still because he didn’t want to make the wrong move. His breathing had gotten louder and he watched her shift over him. When her hands reached out for his belt, he finally lifted his hands to grab a hold of hers. “You don’t want this. You don’t.”

“For all you know the two of us could be dead in the next few minutes Negan,” she reminded him and his eyebrows arched in curiosity when she said that. Sure, that would usually make someone look at sex differently, but sex with Maggie made him think he would certainly be dying within the next few minutes. It felt like some kind of trick from her end. “Now do us both a favor and shut the hell up.”

Against his sense of logic, Negan lowered his hands and watched her pull apart the belt in his pants. Truthfully, his breaths were panicked ones. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan adjusted his hips when she struggled to get the material of his pants apart. When she got the zipper down, Negan felt her hand pushing beneath his pants to grab a hold of his manhood to pull it out into the cool air surrounding them.

Looking down, he watched her hand pumping over his length clearly working to get him hard. Licking at his bottom lip, Negan didn’t know if he should be asking her what was on her mind. Was she going to get him hard just to cut it off? At this point, that’s what he thought she was doing. So yeah, he probably sounded like a scared little bitch, but he was. With his dick out and his enemy being the one in control of it, that wasn’t exactly something he was comfortable with.

A deep rumble of a moan fell from his throat when his body reacted to the firm grasp her palm had wrapped around him. Even frightened he was getting hard and he cussed to himself wishing like hell he wasn’t having this reaction. Involuntarily, Negan’s hips arched up toward her closed fist that was pumping over his length. Damn, he wished this didn’t feel as good as it did. The moment was horrible. They had people after them. They needed to be quiet, yet here Maggie was giving him a hand job. That in itself was confusing enough.  

“Fuck,” Negan grumbled, his throat flexing while watching the determination in her eyes. Even though he tried to force himself to be quiet, muted moans fell from his throat. Dropping his head back, short jolts of pleasure filled his entire body and he didn’t know how to react. When he was completely solid in her grasp, he let out a wince and bit harshly at his bottom lip. “What’s happening here Maggie?”

Silence. Nothing in return to his question. Looking down toward his lap, Negan gulped loudly. There were a lot of thoughts running through Maggie’s mind. She wasn’t saying anything, but he could tell that there were so many things she was thinking about. The look in her eyes told him that. Maggie bit at her bottom lip before getting up. Pulling her jacket from her body, Negan watched it drop to the ground and his throat went dry. When she reached for her pants, Negan felt a warmth flood throughout his cock making him grunt. There was no lying that his body was excited at the idea of sex with the incredibly beautiful woman before him. Just, he kind of wished he knew what the hell the outcome of this was going to be.  

His thick eyebrows bounced up in surprise and a panicked exhale escaped his throat. Maggie was swiftly tugging at the material of her pants after she kicked out of her boots. When she kicked the material aside, Negan felt his mouth go dry. Licking his lips, he let out a shuddering breath when she moved in over him.

“Maggie?” Negan tried to get her to look at him to find some kind of reason as to why this was all happening. Reaching out, Negan tried to grab her face in his palms and she slammed his hands back down at his sides. Obeying, Negan kept his hands down with tension in his body. When she crawled in over him, Negan let out a sigh. Reaching down, Maggie pushed the material of her panties aside and Negan couldn’t help but steal a glance. Noticing that she was getting more comfortable over him, he couldn’t keep the idea that this was fucked up out of his mind. “Wait, are you sure about this?”

“What? You don’t want this?” Maggie reached up with her right hand to grab a tight hold of Negan’s throat again, putting a tiny amount of pressure on the soft spot at the center of it. Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and his teeth gritted together. “That’s a shame. I thought you might be the kind of guy that likes to be dominated by a woman.”

“Well, yeah…” Negan stammered, his body quivering when he felt her warmth hovering just over him. In another world, yeah, he would have jumped right into this. No questions asked. Maggie was fucking beautiful. But knowing their past, knowing what happened…he was having a hard time having this all make sense. “I’m very interested, but I just…”

“Then sit back, shut up and enjoy it,” she ordered and Negan’s jaw flexed when she reached down between them with her free hand to caress over Negan’s solid form. Lifting her hips up, Negan kept his eyes hooked with hers. When the tip of his cock traced through her folds, a moan fell from his throat and his eyes got heavy with lust. “For the first time I think you’re speechless Negan.”

A grunt fell from Negan’s parted lips when Maggie lowered her body down his length. The sound of Maggie’s gasp filled the air and he felt her fingers clinging tightly to his shoulders when she attempted to brace herself. Damn, Negan wanted to touch her. To put his hands on her hips, but this was all Maggie.

Attempting to look down at her body lowering down over his length, Negan felt her bang his head back against the wall again making him hiss when she did it. Tugging her fingers through his hair, she demanded his eyes to be hooked on hers. The warmth of her surrounding him was almost too much to take. Watching her lips part and her eyes come to a tight close, Negan felt his heart pound harder inside of his chest. God, he was looking at Maggie in a new light and he had no idea where this would leave them afterwards.

By the time she lowered over him completely, Negan lifted his right hand and slid it in over her side. Grasping loosely to her body, he was surprised that she didn’t force it back or yell at him. Maggie adjusted herself over Negan, trying to find the right positioning to keep herself comfortable before her hips started to raise over his length before lowering again.

There was a fire flooding Negan’s veins while he watched her face scrunch up. She was taking her time getting used to his body and it was causing chills to run through his whole body. Grunting, Negan felt Maggie’s nails biting into his shoulders from where her hands were grasping firmly at his shoulders to help her movements over him.

Each roll of her hips over him had started to become more confident. The rocking of her hips up and down had become steadier, fluid movements. They had to be quiet, he knew that, but he couldn’t help the occasional moans that fell from his throat while Maggie had absolute control of his body. This was something he could never even imagine in his dreams. Even in his dreams he would have known better, so whatever was happening now was a mystery to even him.

“Maggie,” Negan spoke her name and she hushed him, lifting one of her hands to place it over his mouth. Each thrust down over him started to get more powerful and his eyebrows clenched. Pulling his head away, he wondered if she was thinking of someone else. With her eyes closed, he didn’t know what was going through her mind. Leaning forward, he claimed her lips in a kiss and it seemed to shock her when he did it. Negan was unsure of himself at first, but the more she seemed to get into it, the more he did as well. Brushing his tongue between her lips, he flicked it faintly against hers before growling out when he felt her dominant movements over him. “Fucking hell…”

Maggie was rough. She was using him the way she wanted and there was no fooling anybody. This wasn’t out to be romantic. This wasn’t out to be a gentle moment between the two of them to fix what had been happening. This was a hard fuck and she was using his body the way she damn well pleased.

Hissing out, he felt her biting into his bottom lip again and undoubtedly this time she broke the skin. Curling his fingers around the back of her neck, Negan let his thumb drag over her throat and down her jawline. There was a darkness in Maggie’s eyes that he hadn’t quite seen before. He hated to admit it, but he liked it.

Going to speak up, Negan felt the firm smack of Maggie’s hand against the side of his face and he made an angry sound. Instead of saying a word, Negan powerfully wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her in firmly to him. Using his strength, he helped her bounce her hips over him. Their breaths became more frantic when they started to work together. Another firm smack filled the air after she hit him again, but Negan took it. This was hate sex. That’s what she wanted, so what the hell? Negan was going to give it to her.

Starting to thrust his hips up from underneath her, Negan was matching her movements over him. Each time he would buck upwards toward her, a whimper of sorts would escape from her throat. Kissing her again, Negan knew that they were attempting to be quiet. The last thing they needed was walkers hearing them and drawing them to the house. Then it would certainly lead The Reapers to them.

The sounds of their bodies smacking together were loud. Maggie was grasping to him tightly, trying to take control of the moment, but Negan kept bucking his hips up toward her. Maggie’s body froze over him and he could feel her nails digging into the cotton of his shirt. Keeping up with the movements of his body beneath her, he watched her eyes slam shut. Her palms dropped to press in over his abdomen as if to try to stop his movements. Maybe she didn’t want to have an orgasm because of him, but Negan picked up on the want of her body and continued to use his power to thrust up toward her repeatedly.

With a cry from Maggie, Negan pulled her to him. He felt her body start to tremor and shake over him. His mouth covered hers and he felt her forcefully pushing into his abdomen to get him to stop when she reached that orgasm he had worked so hard to build up inside of her. With shaking, tremoring thighs and her body flushed, Negan took his time to admire the woman he knew fucking hated him over him. If things were different, he could easily find himself getting attached to a strong woman like this, but their pasts would make it impossible. The natural glow she had after having an orgasm made her look stunning to him. The hate still lingered in her eyes, but the pleasure laced into her expression turned him on so much. Visibly, it seemed like she was not exactly happy with herself that Negan had been able to make her climax, but her body certainly enjoyed it.

By the time she finally shook the feeling, her eyes lifted to his and she looked angry. With a firm shove, Negan’s back hit the wall again. Her right hand pressed in over Negan’s mouth and her left reached back to brace herself over him. It was the hurt leg she grasped to and Negan immediately let out a pained sound against her hand that was covering his mouth. Using the stability she had in the moment, she sturdily brought her hips over his again and again. It was hard to focus on what he was feeling most in the moment. The pain from the injury she was digging her fingers into or the incredible amounts of pleasure she was drawing out from inside of him while she had her way with him.  

Growling against her hand, Negan’s eyes slammed shut. There was a fire burning in the pit of his stomach and he felt the muscles in his abdominal area start to flex. Desperate moans began falling from Negan’s throat when he could feel his orgasm approaching with her forceful movements over him. A frustrated, mumbled sound pressed against Maggie’s hand when she lifted her hips from Negan before he could cum. Her fingertips wrapped around the tip of his penis where the head met the shaft forcing him to hold back on his orgasm. A pained yelp fell deep from his throat when his body was absolutely ready to fall apart.  

God, she was fucking torturing him with this. When he was denied his orgasm, she crawled back in over him and with ease her body slid back down over his. Shakily, Negan reached for her hips and tried to help move her over him so he could work his body back up to that pleasure point. Almost immediately though, she reached for his hands and forced them back against the wall over his head. Holding tightly to his wrists, Maggie continued to control the movement over him and Negan cried out into her mouth when she began to kiss him again.

“Please…” Negan begged noticing that her movements were rough until she felt him tensing up beneath her. Whenever he was close to coming, she would stop all movements and it had him a shuddering mess. Negan wasn’t one for begging, but his body was tingling. Everything was eager for a release of some kind, but she wasn’t allowing it from him. “Maggie, please.”

“It hurts to want something so bad, doesn’t it?” she hovered her lips over his and Negan’s eyelids were heavy with lust. There was a want in his eyes and she knew that she had him in the palm of her hand. “To be controlled in every way possible.”

Negan didn’t say anything, he just desperately tried to move his hips, but she had the power and the strength over him right there. Maggie’s eyes were locked on his. The grasp she had around his wrists was getting tighter and Negan’s lips parted. He was panting, his chest rising and falling repeatedly.

“I asked you a question, does it hurt?” she repeated what she had said and Negan’s head fell back. His eyelashes fluttered and he felt her adjusting his wrists so she had them hooked together with one of her hands over his head. Using her free hand, she smacked at the side of his face again making him grunt before she grabbed a tight hold of his chiseled jaw. “Speak when you are spoken to Negan.”

“Yes,” Negan finally gave in and gave her the answer that she wanted to hear. She was using his own words against him and he was picking up on all of the hints. “Yes, it hurts. It hurts a lot.”

“Good,” she nodded her head, keeping her hips still over his while he remained inside of her. “Now beg me. Tell me you want to cum.”

“Please Maggie,” Negan felt her smack him again and he winced when she did it. The side of his face was starting to burn, but the sensitivity of his body was increased from it. Her beating the hell out of him surprisingly turned him on more than he expected when her hips started to unhurriedly move again. “Maggie, I’m begging you…”

“Do it better,” she demanded with another smack and Negan felt her hips starting to bounce powerfully over his extremely aching body. He was ready to explode and he knew that. It wouldn’t take much more. His body was shaking beneath her. His thighs were tremoring and his thick jaw flexed.

“Please, I’m begging you with everything that I am, let me cum,” Negan whimpered and after a few more steady movements over him, Negan threw back his head and let out a roar of a moan. His jaw dropped, his body shaking when his orgasm started. His hips eagerly bounced up toward hers and he was surprised how good his release actually felt. When she stopped moving over him, she dropped his wrists down and firmly shoved his head back again. Pulling her hips away from Negan, he cussed out a slew of incoherent words while she shakily pulled herself back and away from him. “Fuck me.”

Licking his lips, Negan looked down at his aching body and felt butterflies in his stomach. No one had ever taken control of him like that before and he found himself in awe of Maggie. When his eyes connected with hers again, Negan could see that she was fixing her panties and reaching for her pants. While she was still sitting on the ground, she was tugging her pants back up her body.

It took Negan a while before he could even gain the strength to pull his pants back together. Pushing himself back beneath the material, Negan started buckling them back together and his throat went dry. Doing that had Negan looking at Maggie in a new light and he was surprised how just having sex with her could affect him so much.

Almost immediately, Maggie had herself put back together and she was looking out the window again. On wobbly legs, Negan managed to pull himself up and finish putting his pants back together. Taking the time to gather himself again, Negan moved across the living room and reached out to try to touch Maggie’s shoulder.

“Maggie…” he wanted to find out what that was. Yet, he felt her pulling away from him.

“I still fucking hate you Negan,” she informed him, looking over her shoulder at him and Negan’s jaw flexed upon hearing her say that. “I want you dead and it’s still taking everything inside of me not to kill you. It was just hate sex. That’s all it was. It’s changed absolutely nothing.”

“Okay,” Negan simply responded knowing that sadly, it changed some things for him. It wasn’t like he was in love with the woman before him, but he definitely was starting to see her in a different light. While he wanted to talk about what just happened, he knew better than to do that. She was done with it. She didn’t want to talk about it, so it was best for him to forget it. That was probably half the torture in itself. It was something he wanted to think about. It was something that felt so good, yet she didn’t want to acknowledge what happened. That was torture in itself. “So, what’s the plan boss?”

Maybe it was for the best for Negan to forget this all happened in general. Hell, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that, but this changed nothing for Maggie. And no matter how much he wanted there to be something more to this, he knew there wasn’t. It simply was what it was and nothing more.

[jinkicake]

Heeeyyyyyy! I was the one who asked for the cat passing comfort with Seijoh Karasuno and Kamomedai pls!

Hi~~~ Pls let me know if you want me to try and write more for any of these (like Karasuno's isn't as long as the others bc I found it so hard to write)!!! Sigh, I've never cried while writing something before but,, I did sob while writing these LMFAO so they might be bad and poorly edited,,, senior pet owner tingz :PPPP Anyway~ (also it was my first time writing with Kamomedai so... I hope they are in character...)

WC- 3k

Kamomedai

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Hirugami quietly starts, slowly opening the classroom door in a calming manner. “I heard everything,” The middle blocker nearly cringes but ultimately contains his composure, how the hell is he supposed to lighten the situation. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

One look into your tearful expression and frazzled state tells Hirugami everything, of course, you’re not okay.

“It’s alright, Hirugami, really.” You offer him a wobbly smile, one that does you more harm than good as a sob crawls its way up your throat. Quickly, you try to wipe a tear off of your cheek before swallowing tightly and trying again. “You should get to practice.”

Hirugami wants to desperately run his hand through his hair and express his frustrations but, he remains calm for you and for the situation. Why can’t you just express your feelings with him?

“Hirugami! (Y/N)! We have practice, let’s go!” Hoshiumi’s voice rings throughout the classroom, abruptly stopping when he notices your tearful expression. “Oh no. Hirugami how could you reject (Y/N)!” Hoshiumi complains, groaning out loud, at the confession scene and his friend’s lack of taste.

“It’s not that, that’s not what’s happening here.” Hirugami tries to explain, gesturing generously with his hands in order to keep his ace at bay.

“I’m just dealing with something personal.” You quietly whisper and finally gather your things off of your desk.

“(Y/N),” Hirugami attempts to stop you, placing his arm out in front of you so that you can’t get past the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You nearly choke, your flustered state getting the best of you. You feel like you might melt to the floor any second now, you’re so overwhelmed and your teammates are not making it any easier. “Please let me go to practice.”

Hirugami hesitantly lifts his arm up, watching you as you flee from the classroom and out into the hallway. It’s so silent and tense in the room, he all but sighs.

“I got it mixed up, didn’t I?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly scratching his head as he closes his eyes in thought. “(Y/N) rejected you, didn’t they?”

“No, it was not a confession scene.” Hirugami clarifies as he grabs his bag and walks out into the hallway, after you.

“What was it then?” Hoshiumi can’t help but get nosy, he’s curious and might explode if he doesn’t find out what exactly happened.

“I don’t really think it is my place to tell you. I’m not even supposed to know.” This time, Hirugami sighs loudly and his eyebrows furrow in worry. He’s not even sure why he is so distraught over this, if it’s because of you or the situation you’re in. “Apparently, their cat has to be put down.” His voice is so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Not even Hoshiumi has anything to say right away.

“That’s really upsetting, (Y/N) always talks about that old hag.” Hoshiumi somberly stares ahead of him, his worry growing just as quickly as his teammates. “They don’t want to talk about it?”

“I guess not.” Hirugami frowns and stubbornly acknowledges your will.

“Then we just have to be there for them! Give (Y/N) support like they give us!” Hoshiumi lightly taps his cheeks, bracing his game face. “Subtly show support while acting as normal as possible.”

Hirugami wants to sigh, that’s easier said than done.

“Come on, let’s go out to eat!” Hoshiumi announces as he steps in front of your path the minute practice is over, he crosses his arms over his chest to ensure that you don’t get away from him.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You sigh and shift the strap of your bag higher up on your shoulder. “you and Hirugami go.”

“(Y/N), we need you to babysit,” Suwa calls from the supply closet, busying himself with a mindless task. As a second-year it was only natural for Suwa to put you in charge of the other second years, specifically the most animated ones.

“I’m tired!"

“If those two get in trouble then it’s on you,”

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?” You bitterly blink back tears of frustration that have welled up in your eyes and try to remain calm, in reality, all you want to do is go home and sleep. The mere thought of your warm bed waiting for you is enough to have you sniffling in irritation. At your question, Hoshiumi gives you a supportive pat on the back as his head tilts up in thought.

“Let’s just go to a convenience store!”

“And have a picnic?” You ask sarcastically but Hoshiumi’s eyes light up, the idea clearly resonates with him.

“Yes! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The shorter second year grabs his close friend by the arm and pulls the three of you close together. “Hirugami, let’s go!”

The walk to the convenience store isn’t long, if anything, Hoshiumi fills up the silence with endless chatter. Rants rest on his lips as he recalls events from earlier in the day, he’s all too consumed with his words to even notice you and Hirugami trailing a few paces behind him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hirugami asks lowly, dipping his head to ensure that you can hear him. “Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m fine,” You quietly murmur back, biting down on your tongue and hoping that if you say the lie enough that you’ll start to believe it.

“I know that you aren’t,” Hirugami continues to push, his head tilts back as he stares up at the night sky and not at the frustrated look on your face.

“What do you want me to say, Hirugami?” You finally snap, your anger boiling beneath the surface, your voice is loud enough that it even catches Hoshiumi’s attention.

“What?”

“I have to lose someone special to me, important to me? That I’ll never see again? Do you really think that I am okay? What kind of stupid question is that?!” You spit, voice raising in octaves as your nerve ends begin to fry.

“(Y/N),” Hoshiumi tries to gently rest his hand over yours but you snap your wrist away before he gets the chance.

“No, I am not okay, Hirugami. Stop pushing me about it.” Your water eyes do nothing to help your case and you bitterly try to push them away with the heel of your palm.

“Don’t forget that we are here for you!” Hoshiumi declares, his voice holding that same serious tone that you only hear during matches. “Just tell us. We want to be here for you.”

His words only make your defenses crack even further and when Hirugami opens his arms, you just about lose it. When one of your closest friends offers a hug, who are you to deny it? Even Hirugami hums in thought.

“We’ll always be with you, (Y/N). Don’t go quiet on us.”

Karasuno

“(Y/N),” Sugawara quietly gasps as he enters the gym early one morning. The last thing the setter expected to see was you, bawling your eyes out, just as the sun was beginning to rise. “what’s wrong?”

You push your tears away with your palms before finally looking up to meet your friend’s worried gaze, his doe eyes only making you feel more anxious.

“Nothing, I mean,” You suck in a harsh breath and try to keep the tears at bay, but to no avail. “my cat has to be put down.”

Sugawara can only watch with an aching heart as you curl in on yourself, bringing your knees to your chest as you sob into your hands.

“Sorry, I was trying to stay calm but I just found out and,” You’re unable to speak as another sob wracks your body, Sugawara is by your side before you can even blink. He gently places one of his hands on your band, softly rubbing circles into your skin while trying to calm you down. “I think I am just going to skip practice.”

“No one would blame you,” Your friend gently coos, momentarily making eye contact with a first-year who had just entered the gym. Tsukishima, followed by Yamaguchi, only makes a face at the scene before him as he enters the locker room. Yamaguchi offers the two of you a sympathetic smile and then follows his friend. “people are starting to enter the gym, do you want to leave?”

All you can do is nod.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Or the rest of the team, any of us can help.” Sugawara gently leads you to your shared classroom, offering you tissues from his bag as he does so. “Daichi and Asahi will do anything for you, you know this.” The playfulness in his words makes you softly smile.

“I’ll let you know if I can think of anything.” You reassure him and Sugawara grabs his hand in yours before offering a heartfelt squeeze.

“Can I tell them what’s going on, the team?” Sugawara is surprised by your tight nod and your verbal acceptance.

“I think, if I’m going to be absent from practice the next couple of days then it’s only fair.”

“Hmm, alright,”

The next you saw of any of your team members was until later in the day. Much to your surprise, you were practically tackled by a short first year as he desperately clung to your arm as a supportive gesture.

“(Y/N)! I hear what happened, I’m so sorry,” Hinata pouts, his hair visibly deflating under his sympathy. “I love your cat! You always take the best pictures of them!”

“Oh, thanks, Hinata.” Your smile turns wobbly as you face the first year and you glance up at the ceiling to try and hold back any tears.

“Do you want me to go with you to the vet? Or we can hang out after school to get your mind off of it?”

“Hinata, I really appreciate it, but aren’t you only procrastinate to find a way to get out of doing your homework.” You tease him and gently flick his forehead, to which the younger player’s nose scrunches up in denial.

“No, of course not! Tsukishima is going to help me study!” Hinata almost screeches, desperate to get you to believe him.

“Is he really?” Your disbelief must be apparent on your face, judging by the dejected sigh from Hinata you must’ve caught him right in the lie.

“No."

The rest of the day followed as normal, it was as if nothing had changed but you still had that impending feeling of dread clouded over you.

Well, your day wasn’t completely normal. Even your shyer first years had come up to speak with you, Kageyama and Tsukishima had even gone as far as to mutter their condolences without so much of a hint of sarcasm.

It seemed as if you were still surrounded by the same level of chaos that you were already accustomed to. Except, Nishinoya and Tanaka’s screams in your ear were much quieter than normal.

Your entire team knew something was going on and were all going to support you through it.

Seijoh

“(Y/N)?” Kindaichi gently calls out your name, poking his head around the corner when he hears your quiet sobs. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He timidly tries to reach out to you but is too unafraid to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to upset you even more.

Kindaichi has no idea of what to do when someone is crying.

“Obviously not.” Kunimi sneers and judgmentally glares at his friend, his overall face softens when he looks back at you. “(Y/N)?”

“I heard my poor manager’s sobs from a mile away! Baby, what’s wrong?” Oikawa pushes past his underclassmen dramatically, skillfully dodging a hit from Iwaizumi when the pet name leaves his lips. The setter sits right next to you on the bench and wraps his arms around your shoulders before pulling you into his chest, the warmth of his chest melts all of your resistance away and you can’t help but sob into his chest.

It’s a few minutes before you can pull yourself together, to even form a coherent sentence.

Iwaizumi sits on the other side of you and gently rubs your back while the two first years had run to find their other upperclassmen.

“My cat,” You start out, trying your best to swallow the sob in your throat. Even as tears well up in your eyes you try to push through it, just to get it out. “she has to be put down.” Although your voice is soft and just barely above a whisper, it still echos in the empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Iwaizumi speaks up and nearly flicks off Oikawa when he notices his captain tearing up. “You know we’re always here for you whenever you need it.”

“Always, always!” Oikawa sobs, finally breaking as he wraps his arms around you even tighter. He practically squeezes the life out of you and refuses to let you go.

And as much as Iwaizumi loves to tease Oikawa for being so sensitive, as the cancer he is, he can’t help but appreciate the sympathy he is able to deliver.

“We’ll be there any day that you need it.”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa are, they follow through with their words, and even rope in Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The other third years don’t even have to be asked when the situation is explained to them, they’re there before Oikawa can even notice it.

“Be graceful.” Oikawa lowly warns with a brightly fake smile, narrowing his eyes at his friends. “We have to be helpful to our manager.”

“Obviously, dumbass.” Iwaizumi spits out and pushes past him to ring your doorbell, patiently waiting for you to answer your door.

“Iwaizumi?” You furrow your brows as you open the door wide enough for just your face to be seen, the wider it grows the more people come into your view. “What are you all doing here?”

“Moral support!” Oikawa pouts as he offers you a hug, one that you gratefully accept. Matsukawa places his hand on Oikawa’s shoulders and leans in just enough for the setter to hear what he has to say.

“Real graceful.” After he pats his shoulder, Matsukawa enters your house with his other friends trailing behind him.

“Do you want something to eat?” Hanamaki offers as he quickly finds himself in your kitchen. “You’ve eaten lately, right?”

“Umm, sorta?” You have to drag Oikawa further into your home and blink away the fresh tears pooling in your eyes once you notice just how quiet it is. “it’s fine.”

“Here, here, they’ll make you something~” Oikawa coos and pushes you onto your couch before sitting down right beside you. Hanamaki has to bite back the insult that is simmering on his tongue.

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s the best at comfort.” Iwaizumi whispers quietly, trying to keep his glare in front of him and not on his best friend. “Let him do his thing.”

“His thing? You mean sympathy?” Matsukawa nearly rolls his eyes and goes down to sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m sure she loved you very very much, (Y/N)! You always had so many stories about her and so much history together!” Oikawa tries to reassure you and places his hands over the tops of your own. “You can tell me more stories, oh, or let’s name a holiday after her!”

“So good at comfort.” Hanamaki coughs and ducks the moment Iwaizumi swings at him, almost fighting back with the spoon in his hand.

“(Y/N), it was her time and that’s okay, you know that right?” Matsukawa asks you, staring intently at the side of your face as you numbly stare ahead. All you can muster is a weak nod as you feel your throat tighten up and tears stubbornly pinching at the corner of your eyes. “She loved you very much and will be okay, she’s doing better now.”

“I understand, Matsukawa.” You shakily whisper and are unable to swallow the sob in your throat. “It’s just hard without her.”

“I know, (Y/N).”

Oikawa whimpers quietly beside you and pulls you into his chest as he tries to hide his teary expression from your view.

“We will make a beautiful garden for her! Or, or name a street after her!” The captain can’t stop himself from trying to help come up with a comforting memorial, something to help you grieve.

“Whatever it is that you pick (Y/N),” Iwaizumi finally comes into view and pushes an ice cream sandwich to you as an offer. “we’ll be here to help support you. Forever how long you need.”

“Always, (Y/N)!” Hanamaki yells from your kitchen as Matsukawa gently tugs on your sweater.

“For now,” Iwaizumi pauses before taking a seat on your floor. “why don’t you tell us some of your favorite memories while Hanamaki finishes cooking what he thinks to be your favorite dish.”

“It is their favorite! They told me themselves!” Hanamaki retorts back, defending himself as Matsukawa lifts his hand in a gesture meaning he can vouch.

“Or tell us funny stories about her.” Oikawa sniffles, smoothly wiping the tear off of his cheek. “Or we can watch your favorite tv show? Or we can go get your favorite snacks like a little trip down to the convenience store?”

“Whatever it is, (Y/N), we’ll do it.” Iwaizumi tells you firmly, looking you deep enough in the eye for you to know that he means every word of it.

@kiwibirdmother

[obxfics]

puppybowl sunday

summary: you spend the day cuddled up watching the puppy bowl

pairing: john b x reader x jj

word count: 1654

a/n: i got inspiration watching the puppy bowl so... here we are lol also when tf is season 2 coming i want more motivation to write and shit please anyways enjoy (also this could technically belong to the “you against the world” universe but also... idk where it would fit lmao so if you want to imagine it like that have at it)

Masterlist

john b groaned as something woke him up. he had been deep in sleep, something he appreciated considering how many late night grocery or food runs he had to do for the residents of figure eight, when he felt someone shift as they laughed. he blearily opened his eyes to see you, sitting up with your back against his headboard and one of his arms flung across your waist, frozen with your hand clapped over your mouth. obviously you hadn't been meaning to laugh that hard.

"what are you doin' up so early?" he rasped, his voice kinda scratchy from sleep.

you smiled down at him and ran a hand through his thick hair, giggling when your fingers got all tangled up in it. "hon, it's two in the afternoon."

he lifted his head real quick and pouted when he saw that jj wasn't included in the cuddle pile. "shit, did i miss jj going off to work?"

"mhm. don't worry, though, i got some food into him and made sure he was wearing his mask. also put the fear of god into him if he didn't wash his hands throughout the day."

john b breathed out a laugh as he imagined you yelling at jj to stay safe at work. almost a year into the pandemic, and jj and john b had spent the whole time quaranting in the chateau to the best of their ability. it had been months since they had seen kie or pope in person for longer than a few minutes, and usually that was only when john b pulled up to the wreck to pick up delivery orders or when jj and john b helped pope's dad with grocery deliveries. at the beginning of everything, you had been spending quarantine with your boys since school was all online and your parents' restaurant was closed. a month or so in, however, regulations had been lifted and the people of figure eight all but demanded for them to reopen, and so you went back home to help your parents with the restaurant and to keep jj and john b safe from anything you could have possibly brought back to them.

you had practically locked them in the chateau, leaving them threatening voicemails if they even thought about going out, but as two months turned into three turned into four turned into five, you realized that the boys needed their jobs as there seemed no end in sight to the pandemic. so jj returned to his job at the country club, and john b got a job busing tables at your family's restaurant. you moved back in to quarantine with them as school started, and you spent practically your whole savings on getting a backup generator and high speed wifi for the chateau so if anything happened, you all would be good. and, despite living through a worldwide panda express, you were quite happy.

beside you, john b shifted his head to rest on your lap so he could see what you were watching on your laptop that had you laughing so hard. a smile grew on his face when he saw the puppies running around on the "football field" and jumping all over the "ref." he looked up at you and felt his chest blossom with warmth at the way you smiled at the puppies and giggled when they flopped over.

"did you really wake me up watching the puppy bowl?"

"hush up," you laughed, "it's a tradition, and you know it. 'sides, you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this as much as i am. i've seen how you and jj get with dogs. y'all may love them more than you love me."

"aw, honey, that's not true," john b cooed. "you know how much we love you. obviously i love you more since i didn't go to work during the puppy bowl, but you know, that's to be expected."

you shook your head and lightly swatted at his stomach. you knew he wasn't being serious. john b loved jj just as much as he loved you, and the feeling was mutual from jj. the three of you had a good thing going, a relationship full of understanding and compassion, and it had taken y'all a long time to get there. you all had things to work through, like jj's daddy issues, john b's abandonment issues, and your trauma from your previous relationship with rafe cameron, but you had gotten through it together, and this quarantine had actually brought y’all closer together which had surprised everyone.

“jj’s gonna be sad that he missed it,” you sighed.

“we’ll just rewatch it with him,” john b assured you. “and we can watch the old ones too.”

there was shuffling as the both of you wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position. at one point the two of you had to lunge to catch the laptop from falling to the floor, but eventually you settled in with john b curled around you and the blankets and pillows providing a sort of nest and elevated stand for the laptop. the room was filled with the soft sounds of puppy barks and whines, and your giggles when one of the dogs did something particularly cute, and john b let out a quiet sigh as he allowed himself to relax against you.

“i think we should get a dog,” you mumbled sleepily as john b clicked on last year’s broadcast. “we can add another cutie to our cuddle pile.”

there was some incoherent whining on your part before you dozed off in his arms. he did his best to focus on the puppies on the screen, but soon he too fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck. that was how jj found you two when he stumbled into the room later that night as he yanked his tie from his neck. he stilled in the doorway, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he saw the two people he loved most in the world all snuggled up together. and then he saw what was pulled up on the laptop.

“oh you assholes!”

the both of you jolted awake, your hand smacking john b in the face as you moved to make sure the laptop wouldn’t fall off the bed. john b rubbed at his eyes and turned to blink up at jj.

“hey, how was work, babe?”

jj shook his head as you rolled over and made grabby hands, obviously asking for cuddles. he put his hands on his hips and frowned down at the pair of you.

“i cannot believe y’all are watching the puppy bowl without me.”

“um... in my defense,” john b started, “they were already watching when i woke up.”

“dude!” you turned your head to scowl at your boyfriend. “jj, baby, come cuddle with us, and we can turn it back on.”

as he kicked his shoes off and rifled around the dresser for comfy clothes, jj shook his head. john b let out a laugh when he realized what he was getting at.

“no can do, babe,” jj told you, smirking at john b as he let his work shirt slide off his shoulders. “the superbowl starts soon, and we’re watching it.”

you fell back on the bed and let out a loud groan. you had been hoping the boys would be too tired to watch the football game. you lifted yourself up on your elbows and glared at the two of them.

“i am legitimately only watching your stupid sportsball for the weeknd. after that i will be passing the fuck out.”

jj laughed and wrapped his arms around you as he flopped down between you and john b. you couldn’t keep your glare on your face when you felt your cheek hit his bare chest. you had missed him all day. there were a few laughs and giggled--and a couples groans of pain--as the three of you got all comfortable on the queen sized bed. finally you and john b sandwiched jj, john b spooning the blonde boy as you nestled in within the warmth of jj’s arms.

“don’t he kiss his kid on the mouth?” you mumbled as one of the players ran out on the field.

a wheeze left jj’s chest as john b shouted his laugh out, causing you to smirk. you had absolutely no clue as to what was happening in the game, or even had any idea as to who the teams were, because like you told the boys, you were only watching for the weeknd concert, and you were getting more and more anxious waiting for it.

“wait, i thought both teams were supposed to be good. why does one team already have like three touchdowns and the other doesn’t have any?”

“honey,” john b said, attempting to hold in his laugh, “just watch and enjoy the game.”

you rolled your eyes, making jj smile fondly. “hon, how am i supposed to enjoy a game i don’t even understand?”

“do you want us to explain?” jj offered sweetly.

“absolutely not. i appreciate it, baby, but i’m too pretty for that.”

jj snickered and pressed a kiss into your hair. “of course you are, babe.”

you nuzzled your nose against his collarbone and tugged your hand from between the boys to gently scratch at john b’s scalp. a hum rumbled deep within the brunette’s chest at the action.

“i love y’all,” you whispered into jj’s skin. “even if y’all make me watch football.”

“well we love you too,” jj returned with a kiss to your cheek and john b’s arm.

“even if you make us watch the weeknd,” john b teased.

“hey! you better appreciate abel or i swear i’m moving out!”

taglist (ahaha heyyy it’s been a while so tell me if y’all want to be removed): @damndunner​ @scandalousfemale @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @write-from-the-heart​ @kurtsconner​ @thatjohnd​ @abbiesthings​ @heavenlymama​ @strangerthanfiction713 @alexis-marrt022 @brithedemonspawn​ @obxsummer​

[mah-gah-lee]

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011​, hope you’ll like it ! 

Summary:  you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her).  All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ 

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

 "Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

 But you didn't answer.

 You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

 "oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

 “I think we stuck…”

  "Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

 The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

 "Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

 “Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

 “I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

 “I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

 Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

 After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

 "How the hell can you stay so calm"

 "Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

 You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

 "Panic attack?"

 You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

 "I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

 Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

 "Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

 you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

 "1..2..3"

 You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

 "We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

 You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

 “You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

 “I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

 “hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

 Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

 “Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

 “In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

 You laughed he was funny

 “No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

 he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

 “Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

 You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

 "Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

 He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

 "It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

 "Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

 Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

 “So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

 "It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

 "Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

 "Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

 And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

 "Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

 You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

 You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

 "Owen"

 "hmm?"

 "How would you like to play a game?"

 "What kind of game do you want to play here?"

 "Who am I?"

 "Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

 You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

 "I start: am I a man?"

 "Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

 Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

 “But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

 You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

 “well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

 you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

 "wait, y/n!"

 You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

 "I think you let that go"

 "No, I don't"

 You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

 "I think you did."

 He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

 "It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

 Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

 "it depends"

 "about what?"

 "Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

 Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

 "I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

 "So expect a text from me"

 You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

 (y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

 Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

 Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

[getouisms]

[ - 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟓.𝟏 - The Guest

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Y/n, a 22 year old successful model is tired of the tabloids shaming her about her dating status when she’s seen out with her friends. Unsure of what to do to stop the gossip, Oikawa suggests a fake boyfriend. Fortunately, Kenma knows the perfect person who’d go for an idea as stupid as that one.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Alcohol (a drunk person with hostility)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 … 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 … 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭  

“I’m so sorry, I really thought I could try this recipe out and have it succeed,” Kuroo apologizes sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

A light giggle leaves your mouth as you stare at the blackened oil burnt to the pan accompanied by charred garlic and half charred onions. It was an honest attempt to make a favorite dish of yours, but he had the pan set too high after an accidental misread of the recipe. In his defense, you look awfully cute peeking over his phone trying to get an idea of what he’s making while he’s hiding the screen from you. Waves of laughter filling the kitchen, a light bouncing in your eyes as you look at him, it’s easy to forget what heat the pan should have been on.

“It’s okay babe,” you hum, pulling your phone out to check the ETA of your sushi order, “it’ll be here soon it says,” you reply, clicking off the screen as Kuroo runs the cold water into the pan.

Your arms slip behind him as he grabs the sponge, trying to wash off the burnt ingredients from the pan. A smile is on his face as he leans into the embrace, mumbling beneath his breath.

“Good thing I didn’t prep all the ingredients,” Kuroo jokes, warmth filling his chest at the small laugh you emit against his shirt.

“Just let it soak, we can worry about that later,” you offer, kissing the back of his shoulder as he hums faintly.

“I’ll get as much as I can off before soaking it and you can go choose us a movie?” Kuroo mumbles, turning his head over his shoulder to peer at you, who nods and reluctantly pulls back away from him.

Shuffling into the living room, you turn on the TV as a knock on the door fills the apartment. Your eyebrows furrowed. The food couldn’t be here, you had just checked it. But, in the event it was, you walk over to the door; unlocking it to see Atsumu with red eyes and alcohol staining his clothes. Your eyes widened, watching his eyes well with water.

“I know I said I’d take space, but I miss ya so much,” Atsumu slurs, pulling you in for a hug.

Alcohol in his breath made your eyes sting as you hesitantly hug him back. You missed him, your heart hurt to see him at your doorstep drunk. He’s never been someone to drink, never been someone to spend his nights late at a bar.

You pull back, patting his chest, smiling faintly and warmly up at him.

“Let me call you a cab okay?”

“Everything okay?” Kuroo calls out, walking around to the living room with a towel drying off his hands.

The warm look in Atsumu’s eyes change as he shoves his way past you to get in. Panic nestling in your body as you follow behind quickly, grabbing Atsumu’s shoulder who didn’t look back at you as he spoke.

“Is this him?” He gestures with his hand at Kuroo, who slung the towel over his shoulder.

“Atsumu, please,” you plead softly, tugging gently at his shoulder.

He could never scare you. Atsumu would do nothing to put you in harm’s way, but you also never have seen him upset like this before.

“Yeah, I’m him, I’m Kuroo,” Kuroo replies in your stead, you cast a pleading gaze over at him to help you and he returns an assuring nod.

“Ya stole her from me, and to be honest, I’m not sure what she’s seeing in ya,” Atsumu taunts, making you step in front of him to block in front of him.

“‘Tsumu, stop please, you’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight. You don’t mean this,” you reason, tears welling in your eyes as the mean gaze is downcasted in your direction.

“No, actually, I mean this. What do you see in him you don’t see in me? He can’t be funnier than I am, I’m nicer to look at, I care about ya more than anyone, what is it, Y/n?” Atsumu spits.

A few tears slip down your cheeks before Kuroo steps in front of you. You see his jaw locked in anger, hand between the two men to keep Atsumu from approaching any closer.

“You’re upsetting her, stop. This situation has been very difficult for her, and you being mean to her to make her feel bad isn’t helping. Sit down, we’ll call you a cab, and you can talk to her in the morning once you’re sober,” Kuroo’s tone holds a serious graveness you’ve never heard before.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, and you hope to never see him drunk again. You’ve never seen Atsumu be hostile, and it hurts. It feels like something that’s your fault.

“I wasn’t talking to you, get out of my fucking face and shut up before I shut you up myself,” Atsumu threatens, trying to push past Kuroo to face you who wouldn’t budge.

“Atsumu please stop,” you plead shakily, but it gets ignored by Atsumu.

“Last time, sit down and we’ll call you a cab,” A warning slips past from Kuroo.

As your eyes are glued to the scene in front of you, it felt like Atsumu’s drunk movements were in slow motion as he lifted his fist to punch Kuroo in the face. Kuroo got a quick punch to his nose that made Atsumu stumble onto the floor, the blondes’ hands over his bloody nose. Your mouth agape as you watched Atsumu mumble incoherently as he leaned his head back against the wall, forgetting he was in the room with you both.

“He’ll be fine,” Kuroo whispers, turning around to wipe your tears that were streaming steadily.

You both turn to look over at Atsumu who leans against the wall, dozed off.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m so sorry,” your voice comes out shakily, Kuroo’s hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

“I feel responsible for him and I’m so sorry that this is how you first met him,” you sniffle, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.

“You aren’t responsible for him. He’s drunk, he’s having a hard time, so he resorted to acting like a dick. It’s not excusable what he did, but I understand he’s not in his right mind and when we meet again, I’ll consider that the first meeting,” Kuroo’s voice lulls out comfortingly, hand rubbing your back gently, “I have all night to cheer you up, and we still have dinner on the way, but first why don’t we get the big guy home over here. Have anyone we can call?”

You smile faintly, nodding as you pull away to pull out your phone. The obvious call would be his brother, but you don’t have his phone number saved onto your phone, so you go into your favorites to dial Oikawa.

“Y/n! Hi!” His cheery voice greets, you can hear a movie playing in the background.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, um, but Atsumu came over drunk and I was hoping you could come over and I can call Tendou to help get him out of here?” you hate how shaky your voice sounds, but the comforting touch of Kuroo’s thumb against your cheek to wipe the stray tear made you feel better.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/n, yeah, I’ll get him out of here. Don’t worry about calling Tendou, I’ll call and pick him up since he’s on the way,” Oikawa replies, and you thank him before hanging up.

Kuroo pulls you back in for a hug, hiding your face in his shoulder to avoid looking at the slumped sleeping figure of Atsumu against the wall. The only time he let you go was to move you to the couch, sitting you on his lap with his back facing him as he whispered comforting things, things to make you laugh.

He’s special, you think, someone who wanted to stay with you during your rough times. Even now, as one of your best friends nearly hit him, he’s the one comforting you and chuckling faintly at your concern over him being nearly hit.

A knock on the door sounded before it opened to the flurry of brown hair of Oikawa, looking at the slumped Atsumu in disappointment, Tendou following with anger cloaking his features.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Oikawa commented, nudging Atsumu with his foot, “gross he’s a mess. What happened?”

You went to speak but Kuroo mumbled, ‘relax I got it’ before recounting the events, Tendou rolling his eyes.

“Let’s get him out of here before he comes to and tries to start a problem again. You guys okay?” He asks, watching you both nod.

Oikawa shakes him awake, the room watching Atsumu blink awake blearily but only looking over at Oikawa. A pout taking shape on his lips.

“My nose hurts,” He whines, Tendou rolling his eyes once more.

“Good, I hope it’s broken,” Oikawa says through a bitter smile as Tendou helps lift him.

The two men sling Atsumu’s arms over their shoulders while Tendou’s voice calling the blonde a piece of shit echoes through the hall as you shut the door behind him.

𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭: Every time Atsumu complained about his nose, Tendou would flick it to make it hurt more

𝐚/𝐧: Yall were asking me about atsumu/worried about angst but little did u know! share ur thoughts!

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 [𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃]: @tepescelsius @elianetsantana @honeymoneyy @oceanblooming @princeabomination @kagebunshiin @tadashi-simp @unicorngluttony @sunflowerirl @snowsmuse @sophieshortcake @tsukkisbean @iwaizooms @aegeanblues @angyboibakugo @manic-punker @miyayassy @kozumecuddles @starry-magicshop @agaashesmilktea  @amarillyis @ptv-hades @runningwitches @missalienqueen  @fo-love  @shiningstar-byulxx  @appleciderslut  @amberalisa   @vicassa  @crescenttooru  @boosyboo9206  @skylarkalchemist  @yeahhemmings-  @akaashikeijisthighs  @bellesowl  @yakus-yakult  @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye  @heyyourecuteyeah  @fi16ns  @yuuuumiiin  @carpecaelo  @awkwardly-anxious-latte  @crybabbicus  @felix-issimus  @alluring-akaashi  @lavenderpisces @tsumurai @melonmayhere @ephemeralsunny @xo-lovelyreign-xo @kellesvt @iish @shrimpypenis @jeffsbarbershop @channiechanchan​

[mochegato]

Capturing a Dream

Chapter 1     Chapter 2

Chapter 3 – Betrayed

“I don’t understand American pies.” Chimera mused as she pulled an apple pie out of the oven. “It’s like a tart but not as good. Just make a tart.”

Conner looked up at her in annoyance. “If you don’t want to make it, don’t make it.  Why are you complaining?  And why are you even wasting time making it instead of sleeping? Today was the first day in two weeks you could have slept past 6 and you’re doing this instead.”

“I’m in America, I want to try making an apple pie.  I just don’t understand it.  And I’m making it because I like baking and I promised Wally I’d make him one a few weeks ago and he keeps asking.”  She hummed examining the highly decorated crust.  “Maybe I’ll understand once I eat it.  And I’m fine.”  He looked at her disbelievingly.  “I am.  I’m fine.” He raised an eyebrow at her.  “A little tired… and stressed… and anxious… and tense… and thinking is hard… and… yeah.” She looked down and let out a quiet sigh before snapping her eyes back up to Conner with a strained smile.  “But that’s normal for me.  I’ll be fine.”  She downed the rest of her double espresso with a wince.  “Blaah.  That tastes horrible.  I wish I could taste the pie now to get that taste out of my mouth.”

He huffed at her annoyed by her refusal to take a nap.  “If you want to know what it tastes like, take a bite.  And if you’re tired, go to bed.”

“No!  It has to cool down first.  I’ll try it after I get back, along with sleeping.” She looked over at the clock and sighed.  “Speaking of which, I need to get going or I’ll be late.”  She took off her apron and turned to Conner with a stern expression. “And don’t let Wally eat it before I get back.  I mean, don’t let anyone, but Wally’s probably the only one you have to worry about.”

“Fine.  But you’re sleeping when you get home.” Conner stated firmly.  She rolled her eyes at him and started moving toward the exit.  Conner moved to intercept her, looking at her with softer eyes. “I’m serious, Chi.  You need to sleep.  You’re not thinking straight anymore.  You almost forgot oven mitts when you got the pie out just now.  You’ve been getting home really late and leaving really early for two weeks now.”

“Who knew you were a mother hen?”  She smiled wanly at him.  “You better watch it, I’ll tell the rest of the team.  You’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Then I’ll tell them why, then you’ll never hear the end of it.” He threatened with a smirk.

She looked up at him scoffed. “Pfft.  Artemis won’t care.  Kaldur will speak to me about the importance of sleep, but will trust me to know my own body.  Robin will warn me about how dangerous it is to go into a fight without the proper amount of sleep and will keep an eye on me during our missions from now on, but other than that will not mention it.  Wally is the only one that will be a problem, but I can buy him off with baked goods.  You however, you they’ll make fun of constantly.”  She grinned smugly at him but her smile faltered when she saw the deeply concerned look in his eyes.

She sighed lightly and looked at him earnestly. “It will all be better next week, I promise.  I just have to make it a few more days. Everyone I’m working with is in the same state.  This is just a really rough time of year.  We knew this was coming, that’s why I’ve been off missions the last week and a half and I’ll be off missions for another week.  But once this week is over…  It’ll be better.  I’ll be better.  I’ll sleep. I promise.  But right now, I need to go.”  She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and left to change.  

Conner scowled at her but moved out of her way.  “I’m going to hold you to that.” He yelled over his shoulder to her retreating back.

She closed the door to her room quickly and locked it behind her.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her teammates, but accidents happen.  If one of them got too excited or concerned and forgot to knock, her identity could be outed and she would have to leave.  She looked longingly at her bed.  She wished it was as simple as Conner made it seem. She would love to take a nap, there just wasn’t enough time right now.  It was Fashion Week starting in two days and they showed in three.  There was no sleep for anyone in the fashion industry right now, and that included her.  She sighed and looked away from the bed calling her like a siren with the possibility of beautiful, peaceful dreams.  “Trixx, divide.”

Trixx did a few summersaults in the air and started searching around the room.  Again, not that Marinette didn’t trust her teammates, but mind control was a thing and maybe, just maybe playing Among Us with the rest of the team had made her paranoid, so it had become common practice for Trixx to do a sweep of the room for any bugs before Marinette completed her detransformation.  It was a ridiculous precaution and she felt stupid doing it and annoyed because it cost her time when she needed it, like now.  But the overwhelming guilt she would feel for not doing her due diligence was far more threatening to her.  But in moments like this, it played in her favor.

“Something is not right. Someone’s here.” Trixx whispered in her ear.

Marinette wasn’t sure if he was referring to her room or the cave, but either way, she needed to get out now.  More importantly, almost the whole team was here.  She needed to warn them now.  “Eat now, as quickly as possible.” She mumbled under her breath, scanning the room, ready to fight if the infiltrator was hiding in her room.  Trixx made her proud by eating his cookie in one bite. “Trixx, Kaalki, Unify.” She called out quietly.  As soon as the light washed over her she grabbed a handful of treats for the kwamis, throwing them into her flute as she bolted from the room to find Conner.

She finally found him after only a few minutes.  Conveniently, he was with Aqualad and Kid Flash as well.  She ran at him and jumped into his arms.  He stood stock still, unable to move due to the shock of the unexpected closeness.  They touched… occasionally, but not like this.  He was utterly unsure how to respond to this.   Not that it was unwanted, he would love for them to do this more often, but this had come out of nowhere.

Kid Flash stood up and watched uncertain.  He definitely wasn’t a fan of this, but knew enough to know something was going on. He scanned the room searching for an indication of the impetus for it.

Conner opened his mouth to ask Chimera what was wrong but she spoke before he could.  She whispered quietly enough for just him to hear her. “Something is wrong.  Someone is in the Cave.  Someone who shouldn’t be.  We need to get everyone out.  Now. Without raising any suspicion in case they are watching.”

Conner’s eyes darkened to a dangerous glint and he wrapped his arms around her protectively.  He whispered “Got it” quietly into her ear. He pulled away from her just slightly and looked to the others, “Chimera’s been stressed lately.  I think a walk would help.  You guys coming?”  If anyone had been watching them that cover story would match with their earlier conversation and not set off any alarms.  Hopefully, Chimera wouldn’t kick his ass too hard for outing that she had been stressed.

Kid Flash jumped forward, “That sounds fun.  I’ll go. What are you stressed about?  What can I do for you to help you?  I mean… is there anything I can do to help?”

Chimera gave him a strained smile. “Sounds good.  Aqualad?” She turned to him and gave him a pointed look, trying to communicate the secret to him with her eyes.

Aqualad gave her a questioning look and slowly nodded at her.  “An outing sounds calming.”

She smiled anxiously at him. “Great, let’s go… now.”  She immediately started speed walking backwards toward the exit, refusing to wait another second for all of them to get out of there and silently urging them to hurry as well.  The rest of the Team only got a few steps before an explosion rocked the cave.  

Conner’s world went into slow motion as he watched the fire ball burst behind Chimera. Her hair fanned out around her head in what would have been a beautiful effect if it wasn’t due to the pressure of the explosion reaching her first.  He watched in horror as she was lifted off her feet and thrown across the cave.

Conner raced over to her, kneeling down next to her.  He pushed her hair out of her face to see how badly she was hit.  He felt the back of her head to see if there was any identifiable damage there.  She had no outward injuries but she wasn’t opening her eyes.  “Chimera!  Chimera come on.  We’re not done yet.  Chi!” He yelled at her.  His heartrate rocketed even higher when she didn’t respond.  

They were under attack and Chimera was injured, unable to protect herself.  He cursed under his breath and picked her up, holding her close to his chest to protect her if another attack came.  He looked over to Aqualad and Kid Flash.  They were in defensive positions already scanning the cave for threats.

“She knew someone was here. Did she say who?” Aqualad asked, darting his eyes around the cave.

“She felt something was off, but didn’t know what.  She wanted us safe while we figured it out.” Conner answered, still focusing on Chimera, looking for any signs of her status and pulling her even closer to his chest when she didn’t give one.

“How is she doing?” Kid Flash asked looking around the cave for anything that might be a threat.

Conner looked back down at Chimera, willing her to wake up.  As if in response to his desire, she groaned slightly and reached her free hand up to her head.  “Chimera, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.  I’ve got you.” He reassured her in a strained voice.  She looked up at him and gave him a weak smile, closing her eyes and falling limp again.  Conner opened his mouth to urge her to wake up again but never got the chance.  A wall of water hit the team.  The force of the water ripped Chimera out of his arms and pushed him in the opposite direction.  

<><><><><> 

The room was hot.  Not just hot, burning.  It felt wrong… and blurry.  How were things blurry when her eyes weren’t even open?  Why was everything hot and fuzzy?  Why did her lungs burn?  Chimera groaned and tried to open her eyes.  It was harder than she expected.  It was like her body knew she didn’t really want to see the situation she was in, which just meant that she really needed to open her eyes so she could deal with the situation, whatever it was.

Her eyes finally jumped open when she felt something move under her.  She jumped only slightly, not nearly as much as she would normally, her body was still fighting her.  She wanted to prepare to fight whatever was moving under her but her body wanted to continue resting.  She cried out in pain and scrunched her eyes closed again as the effects of her movement hit her.  She heard a scream that sounded vaguely like her name from somewhere far away but couldn’t manage to turn towards it.  

She fought to process what she had seen in the short time her eyes were open.  Kaldur, she had seen Kaldur, and… orange?  Fire?  Why would there be fire?  Maybe she was by a fireplace.  She should move away from it, her mind hazily advised.  She tried to move away from the heat, but it seemed like it was coming from all around her.  She moaned in pain again at the effort’s effect on her body.

“…mera, can you …e?” She could hear someone talking, but they sounded… no wait, they sounded close?  She tried opening her eyes again.  But her body was still slow to respond.  Maybe if she just opened one eye?  That might work.  She concentrated on opening one eye at a time.  The images seemed to come to her on delay, or maybe it was her mind that was on some kind of 5 second delay.  Kaldur filled up her vision.

He was touching her head gently.  It felt wrong.  Why was he doing that?  She tried to scrunch her face in confusion but she wasn’t sure if her face was responding correctly.  “Chimera? Can you hear me?”

Oh, that’s why he was touching her head.  She had… something had happened.  She was hurt. He was checking her.  “Chimera!  Can you create a portal?”  

She stared at him blankly. Why would she create a portal? That was what Pegasus did.  She was…  Chimera.  She was Chimera, her mind hazily supplied for her.  She wasn’t Ladybug anymore.  She wasn’t sure if she could use her voice yet so she attempted to nod instead. Surely she could, right?

“You need to create a portal under us to somewhere safe.  Can you send us somewhere safe?”  He looked at her urgently.  They must be in trouble.

She looked around, or at least tried to.  “Superboy and Kid Flash are captured too, but safe for now.  We need to get out so we can help them.  Robin and Artemis are running around trying to fight the Reds, but if we can get away, we take some of their leverage.”

She looked blankly at him again.  That probably made sense but thinking hurt right now.  Her ability to process things logically was severely impaired, but Aqualad was their leader.  She trusted him to think for her.  “Somewhere safe, Chimera.” He repeated.

She thought about the words. Safe.  Somewhere safe.  Not home though.  Not with friends.  She couldn’t compromise her identity.  Somewhere safe Aqualad could see…  “Chimera! I know it’s hard, but we need to move!” He urged her.

Safe…

Safe…

Safe…

“Voyage,” she whispered in a broken rasp.

She whimpered in pain again as she landed hard on Aqualad from their 6 foot drop onto a hard metallic floor.  She wasn’t even sure where she had sent them and it was too bright to look around.

“Lower the lights!” Aqualad yelled to whoever was around.  “Good job, Chimera.  You brought us to the Watchtower.” He reassured her gently before turning away to yell again.  “We need help in here!”

“Chimera, do you have enough strength to create an illusion of us so they won’t know we’re gone?” Aqualad asked gently.  “I know you want to sleep and you can as soon as our teammates are safe.  Chimera, I need you to try.  Can you do it?”

She kept her eyes closed as she processed what he was asking.  Could she create the illusion?  What if she needed to create another portal?  Would she have the strength?  Could she take the time to transform?  “Need to see where,” she croaked.  She would detransform and retransform while they were getting the video set up.  “Need to detransform.  Secure. No cameras.”

Aqualad nodded at her, not that she could see it.  “I need a secure room, now!” he yelled at whoever he was talking to.  “And water or an IV.”

He picked her up and headed to a room she could use.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m going to get see if we can communicate with Artemis and Robin.”

Chimera reached out for him and grunted to get his attention, talking seemed like so much effort. She grabbed her flute, took an earpiece and some of the treats out of it.  She tossed the earpiece to him and set the treats on a nearby desk.  He looked at her surprised.  “Magic” she responded simply.  She didn’t have the time or inclination to explain further.

Aqualad nodded to her and left the room.  She gave Aqualad a few seconds to communicate with Robin before she detransformed, taking the earpiece with it.  Kaalki popped out as soon as she detransformed and looked around the room unimpressed.  “This facility is not befitting one as glorious as me.”

Without the second suit to help prop her up, Marinette’s legs gave out under her.  She fought to stay conscious.  The explosion she could handle, normally.  She’d experienced far worse fighting akumas.  However, wearing two miraculous was draining already, add to that all the stress she had been under in her civilian life, the little sleep she’d been getting the past two weeks, the explosion, the fire she had been sitting too close to, whatever had caused her lungs to burn, and using her powers before she was ready, and she was struggling to keep the push to oblivion, a long dreamless sleep, at bay.

But, her teammates needed her.  Conner and Wally were still at the mercy of whoever had invaded their cave. “Hurry” she rasped out.  Kaalki looked at her bored before seeing her state and snapping to attention, rapidly eating her sugar cube.

“Ready, Guardian.” She stated firmly.

Chimera didn’t even bother wasting energy nodding in response.  She quietly whispered “Unify”.  As soon as the transformation took effect, she felt a fresh wave of energy rush through her.  Not a lot, but enough, she hoped.  Enough to get through this.  Enough to save her teammates.  She pulled out her flute and played a melody.  “Mirage” she mouthed.  

God, she hoped this would work.  She had never tried a mirage from this distance and without any visual reference, but she was trusting her familiarity with the cave and the fact that she had just voyaged from that spot to ground the magic.  It made sense right?  Actually, nothing made sense right now.  She was going to go on blind faith for this one.

She stumbled out of the room she was in and wandered toward where she thought Aqualad might be.  She was sure he wouldn’t be too far.  Once he spotted her, Aqualad rushed over to her side, assisting her to where he was talking with Superman.  “Are you sure it is a good idea?” Aqualad asked in a tone that suggested he had asked this before and still hadn’t received a response he liked.

“Yes.  We’re coordinating with Black Canary.  We will both come in through the zeta tubes at the same time.  Once there we will be able to fight the Reds.  They will be entirely focused on us, giving Robin and Artemis the opportunity to free your friends.”

Chimera frowned at him. Her brain might not be working full speed yet, but she knew that was a bad idea.  She wasn’t sure why, but she knew it was wrong, she just needed to figure out why.  Superman turned when Black Canary appeared on a screen behind him.  Chimera couldn’t follow their conversation.  She was too focused on the screen next to it, showing Conner and Wally chin deep in water and two figures that looked similar to Red Tornado attacking Robin and Artemis and almost hitting Wally and Conner in their attacks.

Chimera gasped and grabbed Aqualad at the sight.  He followed her line of sight and muttered under his breath, “They know we’re here. Robin set up a video for us.”

“We need to leave now.” Superman stated, moving toward the tubes.

“NO!” Chimera yelled with as much force as she could.  As soon as the word came out of her mouth she faltered and fell back into Aqualad. “Robin patched in?” She asked Aqualad.

“Yes.”

She turned back to Superman. “Retribution.  Punish them.” She said raspingly.

Superman glared at her. “We know our jobs, Chimera.  We can handle them.”

“She’s right.  We should trust Robin and Artemis to handle this.” Aqualad responded supporting his teammates.  “We can coordinate with them and they can execute it.”

“We don’t have time to play games.” Superman chided them.  “We need to act now.”

“Act wrong.” Chimera said quietly.

“With all due respect…” Superman started bringing himself to his full height before getting cut off by Batman.

“I agree with them. The Reds have shown they are willing to kill the Team.  They have tried several times already.  The only reason Superboy and Kid Flash are still alive is because they need them to draw out Artemis and Robin.  Once it becomes clear they have lost that leverage, they will have no reason not to kill them and no reason to hold back.  They could raze that entire cave and everything in it if they feel threatened. Robin and Artemis might be able to escape but Conner and Wally won’t be able to escape it.”  Batman stated firmly.

“You don’t know that.” Superman retorted.

“You don’t know they won’t. You hope they won’t, but they have shown every indication that they will.  We should work with Artemis and Robin to come up with a plan.” Batman argued.

“I think we have a way to do that,” Robin added.  “If we can create an EMP emitter, we can short circuit them.”

Batman nodded at the suggestion, “That should work.  Good thinking, Robin.”

“And you have one of those on hand?” Superman asked doubtfully.  “We don’t.”

“No, but we can make one, right KF?” Robin answered with a smirk.

“Totally doable… ya know, if we had more time.” Kid Flash responded with a wince.

“How is Chimera?” Superboy called loudly enough for them to pick it up but quiet enough not to attract the Reds.

“She is weak but awake.” Aqualad reassured him.

The voices around her kept talking, but Chimera was having trouble keeping up with them.  She slumped into Aqualad and let her teammates do what they needed to do.  She focused on maintaining the mirage.  After a minute she heard someone say ‘distraction’ and she perked up.  She knocked her hand into Aqualad.  “Illusion will disappear in a minute.  Need to go back to the room.”

Aqualad nodded at her. “Chimera says she will make our illusion disappear in a minute, or on your mark if it’s sooner.”

There were more words but Chimera wasn’t listening, it took too much effort.  She wasn’t sure if she could make it through detransforming without passing out, but her teammates weren’t safe yet.  Conner wasn’t safe.  She could and would stay awake.  She set her jaw and looked up at Aqualad.  He picked her up and carried her to the room.  “I’ll let you know when to drop the illusion.” He said quietly.

She didn’t respond as he closed the door.  She just needed to make it through the next few minutes.  Just a few more minutes.  She could do that.  “Now, Chimera.” Aqualad called to her.  

Instead of calling off the illusion, she called off her transformation, serving both purposes and saving a tiny bit of energy.  “Hurry,” she begged Trixx before he could complain.  Trixx didn’t bother responding, he just ate the cookie Chimera had pointed out as quickly as he could.  “Ready,” he announced in record time.  She quickly called on her unification again and felt the energy surge through her.  A few more minutes then she could sleep.  

She opened the door to find Aqualad waiting on her.  He gave her a tight smile before picking her up again and carrying her to the screens. “Every little bit helps,” he affirmed.

She grabbed his arm again when she saw Robin laid out by the Reds.  Superman said something to her but she couldn’t waste the energy to listen to what he had said.  She was too focused on Conner and Wally.

“Artemis is still out there,” Aqualad reassured her.  “Robin got close but got caught before he could complete…”

He was cut off by Chimera screaming “Voyage”.  He turned back to the screens to see Artemis surrendering and the water rising over Superboy and Kid Flash’s mouths.  He couldn’t see where the portal she had created was at first, but then noticed the water draining slightly.  He looked to the corner of the screen and saw a hole appear in the water.  He looked over to Chimera to see her concentrating hard on the screen.

It wasn’t enough and Chimera knew it.  The portal she had created wasn’t enough.  The water was draining, but not fast enough.  At this rate they were going to die.  Conner was going to die.  She clenched her hands into fists and touched them together in front of her then slowly pulled them apart, muscles straining like she was pulling elevator doors open.  She groaned and her body started shaking under the strain of pushing the magic in ways it wasn’t intended.

Aqualad looked back to the screen and watched the portal expand slowly, mirroring her movements. The water started ebbing quickly and within a few seconds, Superboy and Kid Flash’s mouths were above water again. The Reds snapped their heads to the portal, trying to figure out what had caused it.  It was all the distraction Artemis needed to fire her arrow and complete the EMP emitter that Robin had started.

As soon as the arrow connected, completing the circuit, the video cut out and Chimera fell to the floor, breathing hard.  Aqualad kneeled down next to her to check on her while Batman and Superman tried to raise the Cave.  “You need to go to the infirmary.”

Chimera shook her head at him.  “Imposter.” She rasped out.

“She thinks there’s an imposter here?”  Batman asked.

Aqualad looked at her for a few moments before responding slowly as he figured out what she meant. “No, it’s a game.  She means she doesn’t feel safe here.”

“This is the Watchtower. If there is anywhere safe to be, it is here.” Superman commented coolly.

“We thought that of the Cave.” Aqualad responded in the same tone.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary and stay with you.” Batman offered.  “Superman and Aqualad, meet up with Black Canary and go to the Cave, free Superboy and Kid Flash.  Check on them and see if we can figure out what happened.  Aqualad, I will keep you updated on Chimera.”

Aqualad waited for Chimera to give him a nod indicating her agreement before he acquiesced as well. Batman stepped forward and pulled Chimera into a princess hold to carry her to the infirmary.  

“You’ll have to detransform so I can give you an IV, unless your suit can somehow become penetrable. But even so, I need to see how you are doing without the magic supporting you.”  She looked around the room analytically.  “I’ve turned off the cameras.” He reassured her.  She nodded slowly at him and called off her fox transformation, allowing Trixx to make a pass around the room, confirming Batman’s statement.  Once Trixx confirmed the room was safe and surveillance free, she dropped the last transformation, collapsing sideways on the bed as soon as she did.

He rolled her on her back and gave her a quick check over.  “I’m going to give you some pain meds too, Marinette.  I’m pretty sure it is mostly exhaustion and over exertion, but I want to be safe, you took a bad hit and a lot of strain on your body rescuing your team.”  She nodded at him.  “You should feel it pretty quickly.”  She nodded absentmindedly again.

He waited a few minutes for the drugs to take effect.  “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I can see colors.” She slurred drunkenly.

“Between the exhaustion and drugs, you might be able to.” He smirked at her.  He looked at her appraisingly morphing his face into a stern look.  “If you’re going to stay on the Team, you need to figure out a balance.”

“Not my strong suit. I was supposed to be on vacation this week.”  She tried to give him a pointed look but the effect was lessened by the slight blur in her words.  “You promised a week off.  This was not a week off.”

He smiled wanly at her. “No, it was not.  But I meant you’ll have to find your limits.  You saved your teammates, but you could have gotten yourself killed with that last stunt.  You can’t do any good in the future if you kill yourself today.”

She stared at him as though she were trying to make sense of the words he was saying.  “But I was fine.  I did stay within my limits.”

“Barely.  The mission is greater than one incident.  If you’re going to last in this business, you’re going to have to sustain yourself.”

She glared at him, or at least she was trying to, she wasn’t sure if she actually was.  She took a deep breath and gathered the rest of her strength and focus to respond to his chastising.  “But still within them.  How do I learn limits without pushing them?  You say I can’t do any good if I don’t survive today, but neither can they if they don’t survive.  And my teammates will always be my priority over the mission.  I won’t let the mission become my priority.  Ever.  I trust my teammates.  I will treat them as important and their input valuable, because it is.  I will treat them as the family they are and make sure they know they deserve love and respect and have mine, that they are more important to me than a mission.  I won’t ever become you.  I won’t ever lose my heart.  I won’t ever become the darkness to defeat the darkness.”  She gave him a lightly repelled look before blinking a few times. “Oh,” she said softly as her eyes closed.

Batman watched her as she slept and patted her head with a bittersweet smile.  “Good.”

 Tags:

@mickylikesstuff​ @mystery-5-5​ @roguishredaxion​ @vroomtaka​ @laurcad123 ​@just-an-observer-ignore-me​ @emimar7​ @moonlightstar64​  @maribat-writing-and-prompts​ @aespades​ @yokomisaki​ @glastwime859​ @mysticknown​ @lozzybowe

[allhailthewicked]

Random JATP Headcannons: Sunset Curve and Self Defense

Being in a rock band in the 90’s definitely has it’s up and downs. You know the fame, the chance to share their music and inspire people, and being to bring light into people’s lives (and the money. There wasn’t much, but it was enough to put food on the table). Which led Sunset Curve became a family which the boys were grateful for because some of them haven’t been a part of a real family in such a long time. However like any good and totally non-dsyfunctional family they’ve saved each other’s asses from fights, and it’s gotten to the point that each boy have self-defense “weapon of choice”. 

OH BY THE WAY: NOT CONDONING VIOLENCE (eh maybe a little)! JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN TO THINK ABOUT. I AM NOT SAYING THE BOYS ARE VIOLENT!

When one of the boys get into a fight (Luke or Bobby) or are getting harassed (Alex or Reggie) or is just somehow accidentally ran into some sketchy shit (Reggie or BOBBY. How the heck did you accidentally steal someone’s piranha???) the other boys inevitably get involve.

Bobby has a red and black switchblade that his grandfather gave him and always threatens to use it. He doesn’t. Reggie has taken it upon himself to confiscate it from Bobby when he gets too spiteful. (Did I write this detail into an upcoming fic of mine? That’s a story I’ll never tell 😉) The only time he has used the blade is to slash some homophobes tires who egged both Luke’s House, Alex’s, and the van. Bobby is vengeful and it shows. And he is immediately is the first one to defend his boys’ honor So he started taking boxing lessons. He now has a mean right hook and sidekick. He also has hand wraps he uses in fights in the van and can put them on in 30 seconds flat. Not only that, but he has a red, black,(both for aesthetic) and a floral print wraps when he’s feeling festive.  (Did I just come up with this headcannon because I thought about Bobby having a switchblade and boxing wraps? YES!)

Okay I totally agree with @owenjoyners headcannons that the boys were sporty (Check out post here). But most importantly REGGIE PLAYED BASEBALL. So I believe that Reggie keeps his spare bats in the back of the van. There are two main ones that he keeps in the van a metal one and wooden one. They’re usually there for times when he forgot his bat at home and needs a spare or when he hits the ball hard enough, and it splinters his bat. He never uses the bats to hurt people. He just uses it to hit the occasional taillight or windshield or to be threatening.  AND REGGIE IS SO FUCKING SCARY WHEN HE'S ANGRY. Like Imagine This:

Reggie Peters Age: 17

This Boy Looks Full Rocker/Greaser

Leather Jacket, Eyeliner, Messy Hair, Bass Strap to His Back

Gripping A Metal Bat. 

Murderous Glint in His Eye

Deepens His Voice Until It’s Low and Gravelly

Reggie doesn’t like to scary because it reminds him of his dad. He also doesn’t love how he picked up his dad’s temper and when snaps at someone everyone is terrified of what will happen next.

Alex has maced a bitch and will do it again. He also was the one who introduced Bobby to his boxing studio, so he can fight off/fuck up a homophobe when he needs to. But he is always anxious that he’s going to injure someone and get arrested for assault or something, so he refrains from getting into fights. So he’s usually the moderator and tries to break up the fights.

Luke on the other hand does not hesitate. Someone speaks badly about his boy they get a big ol’ black eye, He has the least amount of “self-defense training” out the boys, but he will never let anyone speak badly about them. Someone says something homophobic to Alex or the other boys, they get bitch slap. Even though he’s a beautiful songwriter, all eloquence leaves his body when he’s in a fight. 

Luke: Wanna go big boy. If you ever say anything about my boys I’ll mess you up you stupid head.

Jerk: Stupid head?

Luke: Yeah you stinker I’ll hit you so hard that it hurts. it will hurt.... so bad that it hurts

Jerk: *starts laughing at the terrible insult*

Luke: *kicks the guy in the sternum for insulting Reggie about his parents*

Alex: *freaking out because the guy is on the ground wheezing trying to breathe again very ANGRY getting ready to get back up again *

Bobby: THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!!!! I TAUGHT HIM HOW TO DO THAT! HELL YEAH DUDE!!!

[thegracelessfaceless]

Hi love bug! Thank you so much in advance. Seeing your stuff in my ask box always makes me super happy.

So, I’m Elsie, she/her/hers, and bi (but I lean heavily towards men rn). I’m a Virgo sun, Scorpio rising and Aquarius moon. I’m also an introvert, but I love being around other people! I just get,,,,, tired easily.

I’m East Asian + Southeast Asian (Chinese and Vietnamese). I’m barely 5’0 tall! Long, black hair that reached my upper thighs and dark brown eyes that you can’t even see the pupil lmfao. I always have painted nails, usually red. I’m pretty athletic and I also like to think I have nice thighs—most of my workouts include building up my legs lol. I wear big gold hoop earrings. I also wear round Harry Potter glasses. My body isn’t very curvy, in fact I’m pretty flat but I am COVERED in stretch marks. I also have acne flare ups from time to time but it’s usually nothing noticeable anymore.

I’d like to think I’m a pretty chill person, likes to go with the flow and stuff like that. My friends say I’m often their therapist or their mom, which is kinda funny because that’s what I’m in uni for, to be a therapist. I’m a pretty determined and motivated person? I like to push myself pretty hard ngl but I also like to just hang out and take it slow. I also like to do stupid things like exploring abandoned buildings at 2am. I’m also big into intersectional feminism. I’ve also been told I’m really approachable and friendly, but bro I am so shy and quiet in public unless I get to know you.

I can get pretty stubborn tbh, it depends once again on what the topic is but once I’ve set my mind to it, that’s how it’s going to be. I also have low self esteem and my depression sometimes makes it hard for me to even get out of bed at times. I usually don’t know when to stop giving myself to other people, which means I get pretty exhausted and fast. I’m also prone to overthinking which stresses me out. And when I’m stressed, I can honestly get a little bitey.

I apologize to inanimate objects if I’ve bumped into them, and I also have a tendency to talk to myself? I also am a witch! I’m currently elbows deep in some deity work and ngl my energy is all over the place. I also have a weird habit of waving to security cameras I see in public because I like to think the people watching those cameras get a kick out of it lol.

I really like coffee, tea, singing with my ukulele, playing piano, drawing and art in general. I haven’t been able to draw as much as I’d like recently but I do have some animatics in my head. I also really like Victoria’s Secret perfumes, specifically strawberry pound cake—it’s what I always smell like lol. Crystals are super fun imo. I live next to a huge lake and it’s honestly one of my favorite places to be. Ocean animals are my favorite! I also really like car rides with like, one other person and just exploring the world and talking. The music I listen to is a lot of classic rap, lofi-hip hop, modern rap, some pop artists and Ella Fitzgerald, Gloria Gaynor, HaroinFather, KYLE, and ofc Hollywood Undead.

I cannot stand centipedes those things horrify me. I also don’t like rude people, bigots, people who purposely start drama or hypocrites. People who put other people down aren’t cool either. I don’t really like parties or being around lots of people, they make me anxious and kinda suffocated. People who try to force me to do stuff aren’t cool in my books either. I also think red meat is kinda gross, but that’s just because it makes me exhausted.

Eeeee I am so sorry if this is too much, but thank you so much in advance. Nothing but love to you, and all your future writing and everything you’ve done so far. 💕

Heyy! I almost hit the roof when your follow came in 😅.

So I told myself that Brian and Hoody are disqualified because of obvious bias, but, damn you make it hard!

So, Brian aside, I match you with...

The Puppeteer/Jonathan Blake

I know, I know, odd choice right?

But you came under his attention, and just when he thought you were getting ready to bend to his will, you'd rally. He found it... Refreshing that you keep fighting, no matter how low you feel.

Of course, he had to be persistent in gaining your trust. You weren't falling for his smooth talking ways. He tried not to use any information gained from his psychic gifts... but if they helped him know something you've really been wanting or something that's bothering him, that's a different story. It took him years to gain your trust and that was only after he slipped and let some of his old self, from before he became The Puppeteer, out. You seemed to prefer that side of him, so he revealed it more frequently.

Jonathan is an introvert too, and like you, being around other people can tire him out. He prefers nights in or long car rides with you with some good but soft music playing.

Jonathan finds it ironic that you want to be a therapist while his main method of feeding is by intensifying depression symptoms. In ways, you've softened him. He'll spare those who seem to have the drive to live. But he views it as a friendly competition of sorts. Like a married couple of lawyers, but one works for the prosecution and the other works for the defense. How many souls can you save verses how many he can take?

Jonathan will listen to every crystal fact you have, and want to know more about your witchiness. He's like a sponge. Throw information at him and he's soaking it up.

Let's gloss over the fact that he can control golden threads from his fingers. I'm sure it'll come up in #just chatting.

Jonathan is a caffeine addict, that and cigarettes are what fueled him when he first went to college. He loves drawing with you over a hot cup of coffee.

Eat what you want, Jonathan doesn't really care. He might take a bite of something every now and then, but he doesn't really need it. This makes it so he finds your scent... Intoxicating.

[bentforkent]

glittery

penelope garcia x emily prentiss 

a/n: whipped something up for valentines dayyyy, i hope u enjoy! happy vday from me to u. also shoutout to cj @hotchseyebrows for helping me with this i am A Mess and u are the best. 

content warning: fluff, SMUT (18+), alcohol mentions, oral sex, first time, begging, sexy-ass emily prentiss

word count: 2028

in which emily and penelope are crafting for valentine’s day, and some feelings come up 

-  - - -  “You’re more glittery than normal,” Emily remarks, pushing Penelope’s front door open and surveying the scene in front of her.

“You’re here!” Penelope scrambles to get out of her chair, pushing away from the kitchen table that’s covered in shimmery pinks, reds, purples, and rushing to wrap her arms around Emily’s waist. To free her arms and return Penelope’s hug, Emily sets her plastic grocery bag onto the counter. The cheap bottles of wine inside clink against each other musically, making Penelope’s ears perk up and gesture towards the bag.

Emily launches into a retelling of her time at the grocery store: There was a weird woman there who Emily was exactly 73 percent sure was following her. As she tells the story, she flits around Penelope’s kitchen with ease, finding the bottle opener and two stemmed glasses. Penelope watches her intently, entranced by her black-cat movements. It’s not lost on her how easily Emily makes use of her space. Penelope’s space, that is. Emily is here, in her kitchen, popping a cork---two corks, she’d bought pink wine specifically for Penelope--and washing her hands and drying said hands on her tea towels and lounging against her countertops, mindful of her cluttered space and figurines. It’s domestic. It’s domestic and overwhelming and Penelope just might burst.

“Anyways,” Emily says, concluding her story and turning back to Penelope, glass looped languidly between her fingers. “Why are you covered in craft glitter?”

“We, my friend, are making Valentine’s Day cards,” Penelope says.

“Alright,” Emily hums, taking a seat at the end of the table. “I’m not very crafty.”

“I am! I’ll teach you.”

- - -  -

“Pass me the scissors, please,” Penelope requests. Careful of the blade, Emily reaches across the table to hand Penelope the glue-sticky scissors. After Penelope’s careful tutorial on how to cut a perfect heart and administer the perfect amount of campy shimmer, the room fell silent save for the jazzy music playing in the background--Amy Winehouse, at Emily’s request--and the soft sounds of crafting--snip, paste, glitter, repeat. Snip, paste, glitter, repeat. Snip. Paste. Glitter. Repeat.

Emily pauses her routine of gluing a piece of red cardstock to a pink one. She’d been considering her next question carefully, debating whether she wants to ask it at all.  “Who are you making these valentines for, anyways?” Attempting nonchalance, she takes a sip of her wine.  

Penelope can read Emily like a book. Not even looking up from her homemade card, maintaining Emily’s same nonchalance, Penelope replies, “Why does it matter? You have a crush on me or something?”

Obviously Emily has a crush on her.

Penelope knows.

She’s known since a few months ago, on a random Thursday, when Emily had shyly brought a cup of coffee into her office. Penelope had never seen Emily at a loss for words before, but she was just so anxious about if she’d gotten the right coffee order. Penelope’s definitely not a profiler, but it really didn’t take much to figure out the strange blush on Emily’s cheeks. Thank god she did, too, because Penelope was just about making herself sick pining after Emily. She’s had a thing for her for as long as she could remember; since Emily had settled herself into the BAU all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And then Penelope had discovered reciprocation of those feelings and her heart soared and she just wanted to wrap her arms around Emily and fucking kiss her.

But they’re still doing the “best friends” thing. God, does Penelope just want to stop this whole stupid back and forth act where they both pretend like they’re just best friends. But she’s playing hard-to-get. Too often had she given herself away too soon just to be let down later. So she’s keeping the upper hand on this one, because it matters. Emily matters.

And on an entirely separate note, watching Emily flounder and figure out Penelope’s feelings for herself is quite entertaining. Penelope only feels a tiny bit bad about that.  

“No, I’m just curious,” Emily says carefully, teetering into defensiveness. She continues gluing her cardstock, letting the sound of her dragging the paste across the paper serve as an ending to the conversation.

“No?” There’s a playful lilt to Penelope’s voice, but Emily is embarrassed she asked and quite frankly, done talking about it. The air thickens, and Penelope doesn’t feel much like joking anymore.

“No.”

There’s a few moments of silence. Amy Winehouse croons, Penelope presses a marker across her Valentine, scrawling a message onto it. Emily’s scowl radiates through the room.

“You’re a big baby, Emily Prentiss,” Penelope says bluntly.

Emily sets her glue stick onto the table, crossing her arms around her chest and leaning back in her chair. “How am I a baby?” Her words are calm, careful.

With a dramatic sigh, Penelope holds up the Valentine she’d been working on for the greater part of an hour. She could hear Emily building her walls up and she’s tired of all of that. The card is beautiful, obviously, having been carefully crafted under Penelope’s skillful hand. “Emily” is written in shimmery purple bubble letters, surrounded by little hand drawn hearts. There’s a lengthy message attached, heartfelt and sincere.

“The valentines are for you, you beautiful, oblivious disaster,” Penelope says. “Everything is for you.”

Emily purses her lips to avoid the smile from creeping onto her face.

It doesn’t work.

“Oh.” She pauses to think, replaying every interaction she shared with Penelope for the past few months and reframing them. Penelope likes her back. She feels a touch stupid for not figuring it out, but excitement prevails over that emotion. “Yeah?”

Penelope huffs. “Just kiss me, please.” Emily didn’t really need it spelled out for her, because that was her next move, but she appreciates the proactivity from Penelope.

With renewed gusto and pull, Emily leans back in her chair, patting her lap. “C’mere, then.” With a squeal, Penelope gets up out of her chair and skips--literally skips--the short distance to Emily’s side of the table. Emily is looking at her like she hung the stars as Penelope swings her leg over her lap.

“Hi,” Penelope says, holding Emily’s shoulders tightly to steady herself. She’s suddenly nervous, despite all of the frustration and excitement she’d been channeling into this conversation just a second ago. Tentatively, she trails the pad of her thumb down Emily’s nose, letting it fall to her bottom lip.

Emily just wants to look at her, for a second, her rosy cheeks and gentle gaze. But one more second without kissing Penelope is far too long and before Emily’s brain can catch up with her chin, she’s leaning in to press her lips against Penelope’s. 

They’ve both clearly been anticipating this, as they move in sync like they were made to kiss each other, as if their lips were crafted specifically to be against each other in this exact moment. It feels like hours that they’re kissing, that Emily is tugging on the roots of Penelope’s hair, that Penelope is leaving careful bruises against Emily’s jaw.

Once Emily is sufficiently out of breath, she pulls away and rests her forehead against Penelope’s. “Let me eat you out, please,” she requests quietly, trying to catch a bit of air.

Penelope nods, rapidly. “Oh my god, yes, yes,” she says, giggling softly. “You don’t even have to ask, seriously. Okay, yes you do. You do have to ask, but I will always say yes.” 

Emily cuts off Penelope’s rambling with a hot “shhh,” and a suggestive tug on the hem of her skirt.

Penelope blushes, unzipping the pink dress on her side and lifting it over her head.

“You’re matching,” Emily notes lamely. It would be quite literally impossible for her to come up with a sufficient compliment for the way Penelope looks in her lacy, red set. So she gapes, feeling utterly grateful for the chance to even be in the presence of this sun of a woman.

“I had plans,” Penelope says through a grin, standing from Emily’s lap. Wordlessly, with Emily still staring indecently at Penelope’s tits in that bra, they switch spots, Penelope now sitting in the kitchen chair with her legs spread. Emily lowers herself onto her knees in front of Penelope, rubbing soft circles into her skin. She runs her finger along Penelope’s heat, sighing gently at the wetness seeping through the fabric. “You’re so wet for me,” Emily says, peering up at Penelope, who has already settled in and closed her eyes.

“Mhm,” Penelope replies, shifting her hips up in order to shimmy her underwear down her legs.

Emily kisses across the expanse of Penelope’s stomach, taking a moment to rest her chin on the soft skin and look up at the woman in front of her. “You’re so pretty,” she murmurs. “Look at this pretty pussy.”

Penelope lets out an embarrassed whine, nudging Emily’s cheek with her knuckles.

“Keep going, okay, I get it,” Emily chuckles, half to herself. Penelope’s eyelids flutter closed, her fingers tangle in Emily’s hair. It’s soft and for half of a second Penelope wonders what shampoo does she use?, but then Emily is licking and kissing and biting and Penelope’s brain has been reduced to that damned purple glitter and she feels like it might be pouring out of her ears.

When Penelope’s usually getting head, once every few months, Penelope is acutely aware of where her thighs rest, careful to keep them open and away from her suitors’ ears, but Emily is clutching the outside of them like a castaway holds a buoy, tugging her closer. It makes Penelope impossibly more wet. There’s a gasp that could have come from either of them as Emily drags her tongue flat across Penelope’s slit.

Penelope squirms under Emily’s mouth as she continues her careful, skillful tongue work. “‘S good, Emmy, so good,” she moans. Egged on by the praise, Emily wraps her lips around Penelope’s clit, making Penelope emit a high-pitched noise. Emily chuckles against her skin, pulling away to pepper gentle kisses along her thigh.

“Hey,” Penelope pouts at the lack of contact. “C’mon, Em, you’re so mean,”

“I’m mean?” Emily asks with a raised eyebrow, looking up at Penelope through her lashes. “If I’m so mean I’ll leave you here high and dry begging to cum, then.”

This time the gasp is definitely Penelope, scandalized and not used to being told no. Her hips buck forward on their own accord, aching for Emily’s touch. “That’s not fair,” she whines.

Emily taps Penelope’s knees, signaling for her to close them. “Life isn’t fair, sweet girl.”

Penelope weighs her options in her head. It’s clear what Emily wants to hear--begging. But god, if it’s not in Penelope’s nature to put up a fight. She’s contemplating, trying to ignore her lower half twitching in desperation. The moment seems longer than it is--after about 10 seconds and Emily wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she begins grovelling.

“Please Emmy, please,” she says, “I’ll do anything, just...please.” When Emily doesn’t react immediately, Penelope tacks on an extra, “Pretty please.”

Emily grins, leaning back in and pressing a delicate kiss just to the left of where Penelope needs her. “You’re a good girl, baby,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Mhm,” Penelope agrees quietly, letting her hands settle back onto the crown of Emily’s head. The pair devolve into a rhythmic sound of Emily’s mouth and tiny subsequent moans from Penelope. As Emily speeds up, so do Penelope’s whines, so does the rise and fall of Penelope’s chest.

There’s not much build up before Penelope’s snapping, she finds. One second she’s reveling in the feeling of Emily’s warm mouth working her up, and the next her legs are tensing and she’s shaking through an intense wave of orgasm, pushing Emily’s head from where she’s most sensitive.

Emily grins, pressing a sweet kiss to Penelope’s knee, waiting for her to calm and recover. “You’re like, really good at that,” Penelope says with a wide smile, her glassy eyes filled with satiation. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Emmy.”

Emily rises to kiss Penelope softly, swiping her tongue over her bottom lip. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”