#kick this asshole's ass Link

[stonerzelda]

i wanna make a comic of this one customer experience i had at the comic store where i met my child self doppelganger from 2007 who challenged me on my zelda knowledge in the most fuckinge. Like snobbish way possible that ive only ever seen done by myself on the playground but idk how to format comics gahdh. I just think abt that experience a Lot like that was truly karma giving its kiss 2 mii

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Long Shower [Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: You become an unwitting voyeur to Loki's post-workout routine. (w/c 2.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Voyeurism. Awkwardness. Thirst. Smuttish. M*sturbation. Language.

Shit shit shit shit shit You hurriedly crouched behind the row of lockers, hunched and contorted to an inch of your life. If you were honest, you didn’t think you were going to fit. And right now, you sort of wished you hadn’t. The air you’d sucked in felt like granite, holding your breath as Loki Laufeyson padded obliviously over the heated tiles.

Why am I such an awkward arsehole, you thought; lungs starting to burn. Can’t just say hello, excuse me; like a normal person. Need to hide behind the feckin’ lockers, Jesus.

The unmistakeable sound of his sultry singing had wafted down the hall like a hymn. 'Der ligger hun i sjøen, min elsker, Jeg hører henne rope når månen er høy' He was so absent-mindedly perfect, in every way. Fuck. You’d only come in to grab forgotten headphones, there was nothing untoward. And yet, when you’d heard his hypnotic gravelled voice– you had panicked. And now, it was too late. 'Hun kjenner ikke ledningene hun holder... som binder hennes hjerte til mitt' Silence. You opened one eye reluctantly, half expecting to see his magnificent form looming with sceptical disdain. But, no. He was bent on one knee facing the opposite wall, untying his trainers. I didn’t think he’d tie his own shoes, you frowned. That ass, though. Loki was dressed in skin-tight black workout clothes that left just enough to the imagination. And boy, had you imagined. That gym gear of his clung to every carved inch of his body like a second skin. Alongside the way that he growled and grunted through inhuman workouts, it was a miracle you had survived this long in the team. Lord above, the filthy things he had done to you in your head in the dead of night as you touched yourself beneath sweaty sheets. It might even make him blush. You bit your lip, blowing air gently, silently, through your nose. You suddenly felt twenty pounds lighter. The thought had often crossed your mind about just who Loki was behind closed doors. He was charming and polite, a bit extra – kind of an asshole sometimes. And he was always on. There had been a sign hanging in the hallway of your old high school which had read, ‘who you truly are, is the person you become when you think nobody's watching’. You thought about that sign a lot. Your gaze tracked up from Loki’s ankles, over the curve of his bulging thighs tight beneath the shorts; a sheet of damp curls hanging down past his neck. And who are you, Loki Laufeyson? He unfurled, the muscles in his calves hardening as he pushed up. The shoes were kicked aside as he ran his hands casually through that gorgeous hair with a sigh. Oh god, you realised with rising horror. Is he going to… Still facing the wall, Loki began to strip.

The damp lycra top was the first soldier to fall. It peeled away beneath crossed hands which raised achingly slowly above his head. With every inch of skin revealed, you felt the blood drain from your face. I’m going to pass out, you thought, pushing yourself back against the tiled wall and hoping it would absorb you. His broad, triangular torso was inescapable. You should close your eyes. Avert your gaze. Protect his modesty. But oh, god - Loki tugged the training top from his head with a strained grunt, wild hair falling in waves between shifting shoulder-blades. He stretched to the side, freshly pumped forearms bulging with sickening definition. A thin sheen of sweat clung to his iridescent skin. Fuck, how you wanted to lick him. Taste the virgin sweat that was gathered in every dip and valley. In the soft lighting of the changing rooms, every dented curve of his arms were visible, each breathe making the landscape of his back flex as he rolled his head from side to side. He has fucking...back-dimples. You realised you had been holding your breath again. Long fingers began to toy with the waistband of his shorts. Jesus take the wheel, not the shorts. They caught on the curve of his ass, elastic grazing sluttishly down taut skin. You pressed your lips together painfully to stop the whimper building behind your teeth as the shorts fell in a heap around his ankles. I’m fucked, you thought. He’s naked. And I’m fucked. All he had to do was turn around. But he didn’t. Loki took a step to the side, positioning himself with ceremonial purpose in front of a small square mirror. Blessedly, it was too far to the side to reveal your hiding spot. You watched as his brow furrowed, looking deep into his own eyes. If there was one thing more hypnotic than Loki’s body, it was his face. As deep and inscrutable as the galaxies themselves.

He brought a hand across his chest to the opposite shoulder, massaging the dip as he appraised what he saw against some inscrutable criteria. Loki’s endless legs widened, ass clenching. Your stomach had a heartbeat, whirring with unspent adrenaline. Of all the ways you imagined you would first see Loki naked – this was not it. The digits slid to his jaw, thumb and forefinger tipping it to either side as he inspected himself. Is he checking for wrinkles? With mild horror, you realised you couldn’t feel your legs. Loki frowned again, ropes of hard shoulder muscle rolling as he sighed deeply. It was a tired sigh. It made you wonder if a god-level workout was the only thing wearing him out in the morning. He ran a hand through his hair, turning away. Your eyes flew to the wall before firing shut, a primitive freeze response. This was it. The rumble of a shower spurting to life broke the silence, strong pressure from the fancy waterfall head pattering to the tiles below. The showers were to the far right, outside your frame of view. You let out the breath you were holding in staggered, soundless relief. Maybe I can get out while he’s distracted. Crawl out. On my fucking hands and knees like a pervert. You waited a few seconds until the water’s rhythm broke, a contented growl from Loki’s throat that made your pussy hum signalling that his ritual had begun. Like the aforementioned pervert, you craned forwards, peeking around the corner of the lockers. God, how your legs ached. Your eyes widened. Goddammm, Laufeyson.

Loki stood long and lean, water cascading from where the stream hit the back of his neck, all the way down his legs. Even in the shower, his posture was impeccable. He tilted his head back, lips parted as he let the fresh droplets soak his front. The curls you adored from afar had turned to an inky slick, tendrils winding over alabaster skin like an intricate tattoo. There was a quiet beauty about him like this. This was one of his few private moments, an oasis of calm in his otherwise simmering façade. He’s so fucking…beautiful, you pined; realising that your eyeline was dropping unforgivably down his naked body. The rounds of his ass glistened in the soft light, lucky droplets rolling over the curves of muscle which dipped in at the middle of each cheek. He shifted on his feet, the slap of water making you jump as he swivelled his midriff to the side. The baritone hum began again, a hauntingly beautiful melody. From this new angle, every ridge and valley of his abdomen came into view. Fluffs of bubbles ran down his slick skin at a snails pace, each trail lapping over the deep crevices of his adonis belt. Your breath hitched, drawing back behind the lockers so only the tiniest sliver of him was in view. Fat drips of water slid down his legs from hip to calf, relishing each second they spent grasped to his ethereal skin. The undeniable slick in your panties was becoming untenable, becoming an itch that you didn't dare scratch. Heat seeped through the fabric of your leggings as you squashed further back against the wall. Loki raked a hand through the jet mass of hair, shaking a clump as he smoothed it to one side. His eyes were closed, a dark fan of lashes pressed innocently against the delicate skin beneath. I’m going to go into cardiac arrest, you mused, making your peace as he raised one arm to brace against the tiled wall. His profile was in full view now, and for the first time, you caught a glimpse of the legendary cock which haunted your dreams. It rose against his flat stomach, hard and thick and ready to be fucked. Oh god. You swallowed, mouth drier than sand. No. No. No, this is not happening. You shook your head, trying pathetically to wake. The dull ache in your thighs had grown to a roar, muscles screaming to be released from the stress position you’d be holding for what felt like three hours. You felt your parched lips part as the god placed his palm against his obscene manhood, wrapping each straight finger singularly around the shaft with formidable intent. He licked his lips, looking down at it like prey. Like a conquest. The arm locked against the wall, fully outstretched, sliding the foot nearest you backwards a few inches. It squeaked. His bicep tensed as he pressed against the tile, running water continuing its steady beat against his perfect skin. And then, he began to pump. In slow, torturous strokes. Oh god. Loki’s pinky finger hit the sudsy patch of public hair around the base with every journey, squeezing his foreskin out at the tip as it reached the summit. This was not a man in a rush. This was a man with relaxation on his mind. What the actual fuck am I doing here. Your eyes squeezed shut again, slinking back. To be fair, you had more than enough material in the wank-bank to last you the rest of your days. So the next five minutes, then; you thought bitterly, as low moans of pleasure began to sink from the god’s lips. I will not survive this.

The sound mingled with the heavy steam filling the air, a heady scent of bergamot wafting as his erotic sighs and breathy groans reluctantly transcended you to a higher plane. Loki’s moans vibrated, rising and falling. He was shameless. Anyone could walk in, you thought incredulously; before realising the irony.

The god’s hips rocked into each swipe of his hand; fucking rhythmically against his fist as water cascaded over his neck and down chiselled abs. Clumps of soaking hair hung around his cheekbones, layered down his neck, down his shoulders. You hadn’t even realised you were staring at him again, rocking on the balls of your feet as your sweaty fingertips pressed against the floor in a trance. He was intoxicating. The way his brow creased. The way he was sighing gently from glistening lips. Droplets clung to his cheekbones, pacing downward before fainting to the porcelain below. He was completely in the moment, completely lost in himself. Who are you thinking about, Loki? Your heart was thundering, the acid collecting in your burning calves, forgotten. Loki released a ragged groan, taut obliques clenching. The muscles in his femurs tensed, his palm sliding down the wall as his whole body juddered. Long fingers that you fantasised about slipping deep inside you curled against the tiles. Please cum, you hoped ravenously; breaths quickening. Please, for the love of god please cum. “I know you’re there, Agent.” Cold dread rose with each slowly enunciated word, eyes widening as panic expanded like barbed foam in your belly. “Honestly," Loki smarmed, his head falling back with a rasping moan as he released himself with a final squeeze. “How you ever manage to conceal yourself in any undercover operation with all that heavy breathing is beyond me.” With an ungraceful gasp you fell forward, splayed on the heated tiles. Your forehead was pressed to the floor, mind racing as you carded through every possible excuse. None of them were plausible. With difficulty, you turned your cheek to the side to face him. “I’m sorry…” you mumbled, reluctantly pressing up and dusting off your leggings as your cheeks burned hot. “I didn’t mean to-I was just...and then you-” “-Look at me.” he said sternly. Your eyes fluttered up, hoping that the way you were gazing at him was penitent and seductive in equal measure. But he was smiling. Sort of. One side of Loki’s mouth twitched, the pressure from the waterfall shower bouncing outward from between his shoulder-blades as he stared you down. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. In that standard regally panty-wetting pose that you had admired many times while you raked every inch of his leather-clad body with covetous eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, and closed it again. “I plan on having a very long shower, Agent,” he purred knowingly, the inky curls pasted to his jawline making your stomach flip. He widened his legs, reminiscent of a battle stance. Your eyes fell to his perfect cock twitching neglected against his stomach and then back to his face. The clothes on your body felt heavier with every passing second. “Would you care to join me?” he said politely, as easily as offering you a cup of tea. He already knew the answer. He had known all along. Of course he knew, you mug. Your thighs squeezed together, biting your lip. Loki did the same, before stretching to a wide smile. Mischievous fire simmered in his dilated eyes. There was a click as the lock on the door slid shut of it’s own accord while you pulled your t-shirt over your head.

In the brief cover of darkness, you heard Loki moan again.

Loki's Song (aka nonsense I made up) There she lies in the lake, my lover I hear her call when the moon is high She does not know the cords she holds That bind her heart to mine

Tags (cont in comments) @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @imalovernotahater @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @gruftiela @glitchquake

[goodfish-bowl]

Bunker in White

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 1 - GIW Experimentation

Summary: Sam and Dean take up a job to go investigate a government base that had been attacked by vampires.

Warnings: vague descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: hmmm, I have never written anything for Supernatural before, but I've seen a good portion of it (years ago). Probably takes place earlier in the show.

Word Count: 2044

AO3 Link

Sam and Dean had gotten this particular lead from Bobby, who in turn got it passed onto him from someone else, so it wasn’t a surprise this particular job was a mess. 

Apparently, a group of vampire’s had decided a weird, underground, government bunker would be the perfect hideout, resulting in a bloodbath between the government goons and the vamps. It was a large group too, which was a point of concern among the hunter’s who turned down the job. No one really knew who’d won inside between the vampires and the government, but Dean had placed his money on the vampires. He honestly doubted that some government agency with an obsession for the color white had any idea what they were up against, much less the correct tools for the job. Dean got proved wrong when they came across the first dead vampire. 

The bunker’s fluorescent lights were harsh against the darkness outside. The entire base still seemed to have power despite not being connected to any sort of power grid or system. It had made it an absolute pain in the ass to find, but at least that meant Sam and Dean didn’t have to wander around in the dark. The harsh lighting and bleached interior revealed a slaughter inside, staining the white walls with both vampire and human blood, leaving very little to imagination. The humans, all agents in once-white suits, looked to have been mauled by the vamps, while the dead vampires had holes blasted through them and were covered in green-tinged burns. Dean kicked one, trying to make sure it was actually dead. Yep, dead vamp, the whole place unfortunately smelled like it too. 

Sam had found one of the more physically intact agents with a large bazooka-like weapon next to him at the back of the hallway. Rummaging through the agency's pocket’s Sam tossed the ID card over for Dean to read over, while Sam picked up the weapon. 

Dean flipped open the wallet, and huffed when the agent was only referred to by a letter and position. No personal information whatsoever. 

“This asshole is apparently ‘Agent B, senior heavy weapon specialist of the Ghost Investigation Ward’, which means shit to me,” Dean complained. 

“‘Ghost Investigation Ward’? Is that supposed to be some sort of knockoff hunter’s group? Because points for vampire killing, less points for dying,” Sam added. “Either way, they were messing around with something supernatural, and had weapons that could blast straight through a vampire. Think we could find something here?”

Dean shrugged, “I’m down to take their weapons at the least. New tactics are always appreciated.”

Sam took the bazooka, and Dean picked up any other weapons of interest, from weighted nets, to more guns, storing them in piles to collect and ferry to the car later. The ID got them access to a couple more rooms, including a security camera and file room, which Sam said he was going back to later. The deeper they descended into the base, the more spaced out the bodies were, and the more violently the agents had seemed to fight, like they were protecting something. 

“Do you think they actually managed to catch a ghost here?” Sam tossed out. 

Dean snorted, “Doubt it. Sure, you can blast a hole through a vamp, but you can’t blast a hole through a ghost. Just trapping one is a pain, let alone moving it to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Illinois.” 

Hydraulic doors hissed as the brothers entered the next level, only to pause from the sudden change in pattern. This one opened up into a laboratory, partitioned off by thick glass walls, rather than the collection of offices and storage the upper floors had been.  

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the carnage inside the laboratories. 

“What the hell were they taking apart that bleed fucking green?” Dean cursed.

Dean completely ignored the bodies of who he assumed had been the scientists. There were tons of vials of various liquids, most of them being that same saturated, radioactive green. There were also jars, lots of jars, of what he assumed were the bits and pieces of whatever creature bled green. 

“Doesn’t look like whatever they were dissecting was dead while they were taking apart,” Sam commented, pointing out the restraints on the bloodied autopsy table. 

“Fuck, that’s sick. At least kill whatever you're taking apart first.” 

Dean watched as Sam went over to a stack of papers, filing through them quickly with a grimace on his face.

 “Well, they seem to believe they caught a ghost, at least. They definitely caught something before the vampires wiped them out. The reports refer to it as Subject P-1.”

“Think it’s still here?” Dean asked. 

“Maybe. This report is a few days old, and we know the vampires attacked within that same time frame, so it’s possible that ‘P-1’ is either still here, dead here, or managed to escape in the crossfire,” Sam guessed.

“I suppose we’ll find out. We only got one more level to go.”

Dean left the lab, going down the elevator to the last level. There was nothing there, except for a singular glass cell with what looked like a blast door as its entrance, all shining with some sort of green energy. There seemed to be automated weapons and cameras all pointing at the cell, and Dean considered it a bit extreme. But also down there was the biggest collection of dead vampires they had found so far. 

The weapons in the room had obviously activated for whatever reason, considering the number of vampires with holes blown through them compared to the agents, of which there only seemed to be two, who looked more like they had also been caught in the crossfire of the weapons, rather than becoming vampire food like most of the guys upstairs.  

“Dean…” Sam shoved him, and pointed to the cell. There was…something inside. 

Dean walked over, shoving bodies out of the way with his foot to stand in front of the cell. The green… whatever it was, shone along the glass and hummed with energy, reminding Dean vaguely of an electrified fence. The inside of the cell was a mess but in a different way than outside. It reminded Dean of a few of the cells he had seen monsters hold people in before. It was dirty, and covered in blood, both red and that unknown green. There was no cot, or toilet, or any other sort of accommodation. 

The only thing in the cell was a small figure, dressed in nothing but tattered scrubs, and covered in its own blood balled up in the corner, head between its legs. Dean could only make out pale, emancipated legs and feet, and a mess of matted, black hair. 

“Is it alive?” Dean asked, tapping on the glass, which surprisingly didn’t zapped him.

Sam had a grimace on his face. “I…think.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. 

No reaction. 

Dean pounded more heavily on the glass with his fist, “Hey! Are you alive?”

No reaction. 

“Are you P-1?” Sam asked instead. 

This got a reaction. The figure picked up their head, placing empty, hollow, and frighteningly blue eyes on Sam. They seemed to be a young boy, face pale and thin, deep bags under his eyes. His eyes were glassy and distant, looking through Sam rather than at him. 

“Well, that’s unnerving,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a look before shoving his shoulder. “Tell him to do something else.”

Sam frowned, thinking for a moment before saying anything. “P-1, state your status,” Sam commanded. 

The boy, P-1, remained silent.

“I don’t think it talks, Sammy,” Dean snorted. 

Sam sputtered indignantly. “What do you want me to do then? We know he’s P-1 now, and that he’s still somehow alive.”

“Well, we know he ain’t human, and that he’s whatever these goons have been picking apart. No clue what he is, but in that state, I doubt he can do much. The lights are one but no one seems to be home, Sammy,” Dean said. 

It was a harsh suggestion but, “We could just put him down and be done with it. The vamps are all dead, there’s nothing here except braindead P-1 over there.”

Sam, apparently, very much disagreed with that idea. “He’s a kid, Dean! And he’s been tortured for who knows how long. We’re not putting him down!”

Dean groaned. “Do you want to take him with us or something?!” Dean asked incredulously. 

Sam was silent, apparently thinking over the idea like it was a legitimate suggestion. 

“No,” Dean immediately denied. “Nope, no way, Sammy. We’re not adopting whatever-the-fuck that kid is. He’s not a dog. We have no idea what he’s capable of, let alone if he’s dangerous!” 

 “Then we keep an eye on him! You said it yourself, in that state, I doubt he can barely move. We could even put him in Bobby’s panic room if he acts up, but honestly,” Sam glanced over to the boy, “I doubt he would even notice.”

Dean hated the idea. He didn’t want the kid to potentially go ballistic, and there had to be some reason he was locked up in the first place. But he couldn’t think of any other reasons to leave the kid there. If anything, they could figure out what the kid was so that they knew how to defeat anything like him in the future. 

“Fine!” Dean relented. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Sam seemed to untense and turned back to the boy. “P-1, move to the door,” he ordered, before more quietly adding, “We’re getting you out of here, kid.”

The boy stood up, swaying on his legs, before approaching the door, standing just outside of it. Dean watched as Sam fidgeted with the door, before eventually having to pull another ID from one of the nearby agents to get the door open. Sam led the kid out, who didn’t have much of a reaction at all. Dean frowned at how small the kid was, now that he could get a better estimate literally standing next to him. He couldn’t be older than 12. 

“Okay, we’re leaving. We got some cool things and you’ve adopted a weird kid. We can confirm the vampires all died here too. Anything else we need to grab before we go back?” Dean huffed. 

“I’m going to see what I can pull from the record room on the way back. Could you take him back to the car?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked at the kid again. Yep. No one home at all. He doubted the kid even knew what was going on. At least he wouldn’t complain about Dean’s music choices. 

“Fine, but you take too long and I’m leaving your ass here,” Dean stated. “Come-on, P-1.”

Dean took the elevator back up the entrance, still careful to check around if they had missed anything still-alive, only to have silence. The kid barely made any noise as he moved, Dean decided he didn’t like that after the third time he jumped at the kid standing directly behind him. 

“I’m getting you a bell,” he grumbled. 

Back at the car, Dean tossed his looted weapons into the trunk, glancing at the kid before rummaging into his and Sam’s duffles for some spare clothes. It looked really suspicious to have a bloodied kid in a medical gown walking around. It would be oversized, but Dean grabbed a flannel, jeans, and a belt. Bobby would probably have something from when he and Sam were that small. 

“Hey, kid, P-1, put these on,” Dean held the clothes out to the kid, who didn’t react. 

Dean groaned. “Oh come on! This is why Sam’s your caretaker. I don’t know how to dress a kid!” 

Dean approached. “Gotta fucking command him like a dog,” he muttered. “P-1, arms up.”

The boy raised his arms, and Dean untied the medical gown letting it fall to the ground. Dean froze, bile building in the back of his throat, fighting the urge to throw up. Images of the jars and vials passed behind his eyes. No wonder the kid was mentally gone, Dean couldn’t see anyone surviving, let alone living long enough to walk out.

God, they needed to get the kid to Bobby. 

[toji-sweetheart]

hi minx! 🖤 if you’re still accepting entries for your kick off event, i’d love to see something with draken or katsuki (you pick) saying no. 46.

“i’ll be good, i promise.”

18+ only content - mdni

hello, sweetpea! I wasn't sure how to put Draken in that but with Katsuki I had the perfect idea lmaooo I love them both so much! - kick-off event

tags: fem reader + a bit of smut but not graphic

Katsuki's brash nature was something you were used to, however, your parents were not. They didn't understand why you would be with someone so outspoken, but he was the voice you wished you had.

Your boyfriend didn't mind stepping on toes without thinking first and he was fire burning bright in your life, you love Katsuki Bakugo and all his sharp edges that have softened over time being with you.

The man who once was dubbed as the biggest asshole anyone had ever met was now a soft teddy bear, nearing his thirties Katsuki adored your softness and his own as well. It was something he embraced and turns out he enjoyed you being bossy in bed.

When you pushed him down on top of the soft mattress to ride his face into oblivion, falling head first into the pit of pleasure that his tongue brought you to, or when your fingers threaded through his blonde hair to tug his head back to nibble on his neck.

"Do we have to go?" Katsuki asked as he stood behind you, eyeing the way your dress clung to you like a second skin, the curve of your ass made his palms itch to grab and grope the soft flesh.

Your eyes met in the mirror as you turned to look at him and fix his tie before wrapping it around your fist to tug him closer for a kiss, his lips melded perfectly with yours. Katsuki wrapped you up in thick strong arms as he held you close while pecking your lips with a groan.

Hero Gala's are no fun to him.

They're stuffy, filled with people in tight clothes and talking about things he could answer in an interview or some other time. "Yes, you're in the top five, all of Japan looks up to you." You hummed.

Katsuki grumbled and slid one large palm to squeeze your ass before letting you go to grab your wallet while his ruby eyes followed you around the room then down the stairs and all the way to the limo where he opened the door for you wishing you both stayed home.

The idea of people around him pressing and probing made his skin tight with anger and an uncomfortableness that seemed to eat away at his nerves exposing them. "I love you, Kats, you look handsome."

"I love you too, my biggest fan." His voice was a throaty purr and his eyes crinkled with his teasing smile that had you rolling your eyes as you patted his knee letting him trail kisses up your neck.

When the limo pulled up to the curb you were met with bright flashing lights and screaming from the people on the sidelines watching as heroes made their way inside and when they saw Katsuki the whole place erupted followed by them chanting his name.

"See?" With your arm linked with his the both of you made it inside after Katsuki stopped to sign some merch and even a woman's shirt with a very faded picture of him on the front.

Time seemed to trickle by slowly which in turn irritated your boyfriend and when anyone spent more time looking at you than necessary he wanted to gouge their eyeballs out. "Last I checked your eyes weren't on your chest." He mumbled to himself.

You looked at him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

His patience was running thin and he began snapping at the waiters who came by. "You're acting out a bit." You reminded him in a soft tone as you guided him down a dim hallway to a deserted closet.

It was too dark to tell what was in it but you didn't care, and neither did Katsuki, his mouth found yours with no light needed, and his tongue tasted of sweet champagne tangled with yours.

His hands groped your back unable to help himself as the kissing grew more frantic, he needed somewhere to bury his irritation and your cunt seemed to be the best place to do so. "Ah, ah, ah." You tsked and unbuckled his belt slowly.

The sound filled the room as you nipped his bottom lip earning a growl. "I’ll be good, I promise." His words came out thick with desire and when you freed his aching cock, Katsuki hissed softly.

"I know you will be, if you can hold on for at least twenty more minutes when we get home I'll let you put me in whatever position you want." You whispered promising him the one thing wants.

Another growl gurgled low in his throat as you slowly pumped your fist up and down the length of his cock using the pre as a lube before pulling away to let him suck your fingers clean. "I'll see you out there."

The door clicked when you shut it and the only thing Katsuki could hear was your high heels clicking against the tile growing softer and softer until he heard the blood rushing in his ears.

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

[frostgears]

the chosen one

there are handlers that went to officer school and supposedly know what the fuck they're doing, all swagger with the authority of the Service behind them, uniforms like slices of space, voices like knives, their lethal charges trailing docile behind them.

they're the ones that show up in the porn sketches and the short clips of grainy video that circulate in the Fleet network. they're the ones that have pages and pages of fan fiction written about them.

then there's you. you didn't go to officer school. your entire signup process was this:

"hey, Cooper, you were in its old unit, weren't you? before it went to the lab? remember anything that'd distract it from biting at its own link sockets and screaming at techs?"

"uh, shit, sir, i can try…"

"great, it wandered into the rec room. go nuts."

you called your last conversation to mind. there'd been two major rec time activities in your last squad, and the alert that kicked off Paloma 17 had interrupted something.

you sat down next to the thing that had once been your squadmate, not meeting its weird red eyes. you already knew it didn't like that; looking it in the face was how Muñoz got their arm broken yesterday.

the augment whiffed of human sweat, the fake citrus of type-2 interface gel, something musty and unpleasant. its fatigues probably hadn't been washed ever.

"hey, asshole," you said, "you still owe me a Kinetic Princess match. best of five, remember? we were two and one when the hammer came down for P-17."

you put a gamepad on the floor next to it.

"ch. ch. ch."

was it laughing?

it swatted the gamepad away.

and then player 2's character select screen came up. without moving a muscle, it picked Valkyrie, switched her outfit to red, and handed you your ass, twice in a row, with no apparent exertion.

"ch. ch. ch."

yeah, it was laughing.

it kept laughing as it used its onboard hardware to disconnect your gamepad, choose the princess you'd just been playing, and win three matches against itself, beating Valkyrie with Marjoram.

again.

three-one.

three-zero.

three-one.

"well," someone said behind you, "that's kinda freaky. but better than tearing up the couch. guess you're on augment duty."

it was going all out. maybe trying to prove some sort of point. to itself? to you?

you got up.

it immediately paused the game.

"hey," you told it, "i gotta piss."

it followed you down the hall into the restroom. it tried to follow you into the stall.

"hah, you find a friend, Acey?" someone laughed.

"shut the fuck up, Lima." you tried to finish your business as best you could. it wasn't easy. the thing really did reek and it was not giving you a lot of space.

fuck it. you rose, didn't bother to wipe. you grabbed the augment and hauled it into the shower, spun the dial to hot, drenched the both of you, fatigues and all.

"wooooo! take it off!"

always a fucking audience in this place.

you found the zippers to strip the thing, flung wet clothing out of the shower at a spectator, pumped all-purpose soap into your hands.

"if you're gonna follow me around," you told the augment, "you gotta smell better."

this had to get done. you soaped it. all over. the generic floral smell of all-purpose soap was definitely an improvement already. felt human enough under your hands, except where it wasn't, the occasional beveled edge of a link socket. between its legs… human standard.

more hooting and hollering from the onlookers.

you remembered too late not to meet its eyes, but it just stared back at you, tilting its head a bit. no sign of aggression. was it smiling?

you never got around to the second major rec time activity with your old squadmate. you had no idea if she was ever interested. you also had no idea if sexual preferences survived augmentation.

fuck it. audentes fortuna iuvat, right? said so on your shoulder patch.

you slid a finger in.

shut the audience right up.

the thing kept staring at you.

you slipped a second finger in and stared back right up until you finished it off. it shivered visibly, made a sort of low whine.

nobody said shit after that. when you finally shut off the water, silence like a library.

you walked out. it trailed behind you. you grabbed a towel off the stack by the shower exit, wrapped the thing in it. it didn't protest. wearing nothing but your own towel, you stalked back to your bunk, hoping you still had a few clean uniforms, your expression daring anyone to mention that a single thing was out of the ordinary.

"heyyyyyy Acey, you get lu—"

someone always dared. this fucking unit.

the augment hissed. an unmodified human throat wouldn't have been able to make that noise; it sounded like a fire extinguisher. there was reverb in that hiss. there were teeth.

"oh, gods, just don't," you said wearily, looking back over your shoulder. it let Chroma, who had a tiny bit of sense in her head, back away slowly, in one piece.

anyway, that's how you became a handler. the pay bump is nice, your CO says you've been fast-tracked for officer school someday, and more to the point, the augment has already saved your whole squad at least three times.

but you have not once showered alone since that day, and you know it'd be a really, really bad idea to ever refuse a game of Kinetic Princess. that's just how it is when your real MOS is "weapon's favorite person". □

[11queensupreme11]

7th love interest - cú chulainn!

yep so everyone who voted for cu chulainn in the previous poll (which was surprisingly a majority of you) got it right!

for those who don't know, cu chulainn is a character from the ror spinoff: apocalypse of the gods, and he is a demigod. like, an actual 50% human and 50% god.

yeah so that means there are now 2 types of demigods in the ror verse: a human with the strength of a god (gained via drinking ambrosa aka, zeus' blood; ex: heracles before ascension) and now the actual half-blood that we're familiar with

BECAUSE I ALREADY STATED IN ARSENIC BLUES THAT BIOLOGICAL HALF-GOD AND HALF-HUMANS DON'T EXIST AND ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO CREATE, CU CHULAINN WILL BE LIKE PRE-ASCENSION HERACLES: a human with the strength of a god BUT he got this through drinking lugh's blood and was also blessed by him (hence why he will have some of lugh's powers too)

so..... why cu chulainn? well, he actually has a lot of similarities with percy:

both are mortal children of a god. percy being the biological daughter of poseidon and cu chulainn being the adopted son of lugh (for my fic at least)

both have doggies 🥺🥺🥺

both are heroes/warriors. 'hero' more for percy, and 'warrior' more for cu chulainn (i'll explain this later)

both started young. cu chulainn actually started at age fucking seven 💀 and twelve years old for percy

both have ungodly amounts of rizz. percy's getting bitches left and right in BOTH pjo universe and ror universe, and cu chulainn's a fucking whore. no fr, in a lot of his lore, men hated his ass cuz they feared he may "steal their wives and ruin their daughters". he was balls deep in everyone 💀

both have hilarious beef with war gods 😭 ares for percy and morrigan for cu chulainn (fun fact: morrigan actually tried to rizz him once but he rejected her and she's hated his ass since 💀)

both have A LOT of enemies 💀 percy's pissed off like half the greek pantheon in the pjo verse and is on every monster's hit list and cu chulainn literally got killed because the sons of the people he killed wanted to get his ass for revenge 💀

both are really really good at killing their enemies 😂 percy's kill mostly consists of monsters tho and maybe some enemy demigods whereas cu chulainn pretty much killed hundreds of people in táin bó cúailnge in less than five minutes cuz he went into goblin mode 💀💀💀 (and then he went on to terrorize the entirety of ireland)

HOWEVER!!!!! there are also some MAJOR differences between them that i can't wait to explore.

cu chulainn was born into royalty. his mother was a princess and the sister of the king. then there's broke ass percy 😭

cu chulainn is an arrogant asshole in the myths and in the manga and percy's an actual sweetie pie who was raised well by her mom 🥺

cu chulainn's basically the heracles of ireland, and by that, i mean he was a huge fucking piece of shit 💀💀💀 yeah, he's basically as much of a jerk as pjo!heracles 💀

you know how in greek myths, there's tons of heroes that we learn about (theseus, odysseus, hercules, etc), but then you read the non-sugar coated version of their stories and realize "omg these are horrible ppl"???? yeah that's the same with cu chulainn 💀 back in ancient times, they pretty much called anyone who can kick ass a "hero", which is very different from our modern definition where we think of good people who go around saving lives. cu chulainn was more of a warrior than a hero tbh 💀

also, the dude was a rapist too (so he's already fitting in well with the yanderes yaaaaay 🤗)

i'm gonna have so much fun writing about him and percy lmaooo they share so many similarities, but at the same time are so wildly different

anyway, cu chulainn will show up in ACT TWO, not in act one!!!

and for those curious to learn more, here are some links:

for the list of stories of the ulster cycle (some don't show up, so i suggest googling the title to read it else where)

someone's analysis of the sexism and misogyny in these stories with excerpts to back up the claims. they also go into detail about how much of a shitty person he was lol

[shadedheart138]

You Don't Have To Be A Hero To Save The World

Wind has always known that he doesn't have the "Hero's Spirit" or whatever religious mumbo jumbo the older Links have talked about. He wasn't "Chosen". He'd wanted to save his sister and got dragged down to hell because of it.

Wind never liked talking about it. He didn't feel like he belonged when he did. So if you block it out, it doesn't exist, right? He was so so wrong.

The Links had a penchant for storytelling around the fire, and the topic of tonight's ramble was adventures, as always. But specifically, what started them. Wind pulled uneasily at the scars on his palms.

"What started your adventure, Four?" Hyrule asked, mouth half full of dinner. "I drew a sword and Zelda got kidnapped." Four said, adjusting their headband. "Figures." Legend mumbled quietly. "My adventure was st-" Warriors was cut of by Twilight. "We know it was some lady who was obsessed with you and started a war over it, Wars, we hear it every night." Twilight wasn't mean, just tired.

"What about you, Wind? What started your adventure?" Four asked, smiling encouragingly. Wind never really talked about his adventure (and for good reason.) "Did your Zelda get kidnapped too?" Legend's voice was joking.

"Um. No. My sister did, though. She got carried off by the Helmaroc King and I had to go save her. Tetra told me not to but Aryll's my sister. I couldn't just let her die there." Wind said quietly, still scratching at his scars.

The conversation ebbed and flowed, as Wind sort of lost himself in his head for a little while. He remembered meeting them all, not too long ago. Sky had been handing the Master Sword to everyone, to learn their hero titles. Wind had gone pale and refused to hold it, immediately making everyone suspicious. He had reluctantly given in in the end, and took the sword to hear his title. He'd nursed the burns on his hands in secret, for days after.

XXX

Later that night, as Wind was getting ready to go to bed, he heard the last remnants of conversation. "Who sent you on your journey, Time?" Time gave a small laugh and then said quietly, "A fairy." ...

"I volunteered." Wind called from across the clearing, pillow in his hand. Multiple heads turned to look at him. Why did he say that??? They weren't asking him. "You. What?" Legend asked, confused. Maybe Wind just felt the need to get it out there. "Volunteered. The King Of Red Lions needed me. I wasn't just going to leave him. Besides, the Wind Waker was kind of fun to play with." Legend came close to Wind and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You. WHAT." "Volun-?" "I heard you the first time! I meant why. Why would you volunteer for something like this??? Are you insane? Wind, why?"

"I told you! The King of Red Lions needed me! Outset needed me! I wasn't just going to sit there and twiddle my thumbs while people died!"

Legend gripped his own hair, eyes wide. "But kid, why? Was it just some wish for adventure, or some adrenaline kick? You coulda saved your sister and been done-?"

Wind stood up, little hands curled into fists, pulling at his scars.

"I volunteered for the rest, why are you so pent up about it? It was my own choice! I stepped up when no one would and went through hell to save my fucking sister and everyone else that mattered! It's not my fault your life sucks, because you're such an asshole half the time!! I'm not some dumb kid!" Wind kicked a rock and it ricocheted off the pot still over the fire. Legend flinched. And Wind turned on his heels and took off, screwing up his face and trying not to cry.

XXX

Wind was later found, sitting against a tree, by Sky. Wind was picking at his hands as Sky sat down, the crickets chirping everywhere.

"Are you alright?" Sky asked gently. "Legend is an ass." Wind mumbled, sniffling. "Sometimes. He means well. His adventure was very, very hard on his soul. He doesn't want you to have the same fate." "Still an ass." Wind mumbled, wiping at his eyes.

"It's a defense mechanism, if you will. Here, do you want Fi? She always makes me feel better." It took two seconds for Wind to scramble away, Legend momentarily forgotten. "No, no. No thank you. I don't want to touch that sword." Wind said, shaking his head. "Why not? Maybe she has advice for you- "I SAID I DON'T WANT TO TOUCH THE FUCKING SWORD!"

Wind slapped a hand over his own mouth, and then the other. His eyes welled with tears again and before he could get out any sort of apology, Sky was putting a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. Why, Wind? Why are you so against the Master Sword?" Sky asked, voice quiet. Ready to listen. Fi was his closest friend, so he wanted a reason. Wind shook. "She burns me." He whispered softly, clasping his hands together tightly. "And it hurts." "She what?" Sky's voice was incredulous. "Fi would never! She'd never burn someone with the Hero's S-" "I don't have it." "... What?" "The Hero's Spirit. I don't have it, because I'm a volunteer. I'm no one's successor, I don't have the bonds you guys do. My Hyrule is flooded, and I'm alone." Wind's voice cracked, and the words were not two seconds out of his mouth before Sky was bodily hugging him to his chest. "Hero's Spirit or not, someone's successor or not, you're still our brother, Wind. You always have a place here." Sky whispered, and Wind fisted his hands in Sky's sailcloth.

Wind pulled at the scars on his hands again, and Sky watched. He gently took Wind's small hands in his own, much bigger ones. "Are these the scars from handling the Master Sword? When you had to defeat Ganon?" Sky asked gently.

Wind nodded. "Stabbed him straight through the noggin." He laughed without any humor.

Sky pressed a kiss over each palm, like kissing a boo boo for a young child. Wind almost snatched his hands back. But before he could, Sky said, "We'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

fin.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Twelve

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 4k

Notes: I'm so sorry this took forever. I was trying to get a monster chapter out but summer has been so busy that I haven't done much writing unfortunately. So here's a small chapter to tide you over for now hopefully.

Chapter Summary: You and Marcus are finally given the opportunity to tell Dave how you feel.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. There's actually no smut in this chapter, and for that I deeply apologize. Mentions of previous smut though. Angst. F/M/M. M/M. Actual conversations (who am I, letting these three talk things out for once?). Cursing. Mentions of drinking/hangovers. Mentioned (previous) anal sex. Throuple in the making? Maybe? ;)

When Dave begins to open his eyes, for the second time that morning, the first thing he notices is the blaring headache that’s apparently taken up residence directly behind his eyeballs. His hangover had unfortunately - and inevitably - caught up with him, as he knew it would. Apparently that tray of six shots of tequila on a stomach that was empty from everything except bourbon had been a bad idea. Who knew? 

The other not so bright idea he’d had, he weakly remembers now, was picking a fight with some random bar-goer and allowing himself to get his ass kicked on purpose for literally no reason other than to be an asshole. 

That’s the reason he tells himself he did it anyway, but deep down, he knows better. He knows the truth, and the truth of the matter is that he just wanted to feel something. Something other than sorry for himself, which is all he’s felt basically for months now. He feels like he’s been walking around as an empty shell. A hollowed out version of the man he once was and he felt, frankly, pathetic. Drinking only seemed to amplify his own self-loathing and then when the bright idea of getting himself laid apparently didn’t help either (as he’d all but pushed the poor unsuspecting girl off his lap the moment he saw you leave and chased after you like a lovesick puppy) he’d resorted to physical pain to try and counteract the emotional. 

And now, he pays for all of his sins. Hungover, head pounding, and still somehow managed to wake up with goddamn morning wood. 

He carefully brings himself up to a seated position, not wanting to jostle either of his sleeping bedmates, and rubs his palms into his eye sockets as if he can just push the headache away with pure force.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, his brain mutters. Why had he been such an idiot last night? He wasn’t kidding himself, he’s not going to sit here and pretend he was over you two and that last night meant nothing - a farewell fuck, if you will. No. All he did last night was set himself back months to where he started. Which was, for all intents and purposes, fucking miserable. He just couldn’t help himself. Seeing you last night… it’s like his heart remembered how to fucking beat again. But of course, he had to act like the world’s biggest asshole at first because he wasn’t prepared to see you. Wasn’t prepared for everything he’d spent months trying to put behind him to come flooding back to him in an instant the moment your eyes met from across the crowded room. He had contemplated - for all of five seconds - of doubling down on his original plan for the evening and taking the overeager waitress home with him but then he’d watched you storm out and suddenly his feet couldn’t move fast enough to chase after you. By the time Marcus had shown up, Dave knew he was done for. Whatever shred of resolve he might’ve been kidding himself that he’d had, had crumbled. He threw his arms around the younger man and for a brief moment, everything felt right again. The three of you, together again. His heart suddenly healed, even if for only just one night. 

He sighs heavily as he carefully shifts to the end of the bed and starts pulling his scattered clothes back on. He should probably wake you both up. Say thank you. Say goodbye this time, at least. Only he knows it’ll only do himself more harm than good so he decides maybe he’ll just leave a note. A half-assed apology and a thank you for not letting him maim himself any further last night like the drunken fool that he was. You’d both understand, maybe even be grateful that you don’t have to have that awkward moment where you kindly ask him to get the fuck out and not let the door hit him on the way out. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You begin to stir again when you feel the weight in the mattress shift. Slowly you blink open your eyes, the room only slightly illuminated by the barely risen sun outside the partially opened blinds. You hear some shuffling around and you turn on your back and sit up on your elbows, eyes adjusting to the light as you look down to the end of the bed at the source of the noise.

“Dave?” you mumble sleepily, rubbing at your tired eyelids. It could barely be six or seven AM, given how tired you felt and how little light was coming in from outside. When your eyes fully open you see that he’s tying his shoes back on his feet and you sigh.

“Hey,” you offer softly, reaching forward to land a hand on his shoulder. He turns when he feels your gentle touch and looks at you with remorse for a brief moment before looking away.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I was… well, there’s no excuse for my behavior at the bar.” He shakes his head slightly. “I was drunk and… well, acting like a fucking idiot, honestly,” he huffs an embarrassed laugh, refusing to meet your gaze.

“And, afterwards? Earlier this morning? What was that?” you decide to push and his head drops again, shoulders deflating a little. 

“That was me being selfish,” he admits quietly, almost under his breath. “I just figured… well, it doesn’t matter,” he trails off momentarily before he heaves a heavy sigh and speaks again, more clearly this time. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Um, thank you again, for everything.”

He’s leaving? Again?! Just like that?

Before you have a chance to protest, Marcus’ sleepy voice suddenly floods the room.

“Hey, you’re up,” he says casually, his words spoken through a long yawn as he pushes himself up to a seated position. “How are you um… How’s your head?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Dave chuckles awkwardly, trying to push past the uncomfortable tension in the room by rapping his knuckles against the side of his head. “Been through far worse, believe me.”

“Well, still, I’m glad you’re alright,” Marcus says sincerely, a frown forming on his face when he notices Dave is fully dressed again and you look upset. 

“Yeah,” Dave agrees solemnly, looking down at his suddenly very interesting shoes. “I should g-“

Before he even utters the last syllable you react.

“Don’t!” 

Your voice comes out louder than you meant it to, all sets of eyes in the room now trained on you.

“I mean, w-wait. Let’s… we can make some coffee, or get you something to eat? I just want us to talk and then you can go, if that’s what you want. You won’t even have to call a cab, Marcus can drive you back to the bar to get your car.”

He stares at you for a long moment and you’re not sure if he’s trying to figure a way out of it so you add, just in case, “come on, you owe us that at least.”

He sighs and drops his head but slowly nods in agreement. “Sure, coffee sounds good.”

Dave pretends to be interested in something on his phone, faced away from you both as you and Marcus gather your scattered clothing from last night and slip back into them until you’re decent again and you announce that you’re going to go start the coffee. Marcus asks Dave if he needs any Aspirin or anything for his head but Dave just shakes his head, letting him know that he’ll be fine and so you and Marcus leave the bedroom, Dave eventually trailing slowly behind you, eyes still buried in his phone, trying as hard as he can to ignore you both it seems. 

“Is anyone hungry? I could whip something up quick,” Marcus says, eyes darting around the kitchen between you and Dave. You don’t answer, busying yourself with making the coffee and honestly wanting to hear Dave’s answer first anyway. Once you do, well, it doesn’t surprise you.

“Just coffee’s good for me, thanks,” he says, not even bothering to look at Marcus while he speaks to him. You figured he’d opt out of breakfast, he seems pretty content on getting out of here as quickly as possible. You roll your eyes but it’s behind their backs so neither of them notice as you stand idly by the steady drip of the coffee maker. 

It suddenly feels like there’s so much tension in the room now, and not the kind of tension you’re used to with these two. Not the good kind of tension. You’d felt so amazing with Dave earlier this morning when he’d woken you up, it was like old times again. But now he’ll barely look at either of you, face buried in his phone and barely speaking more than two words at a time and honestly it’s driving you crazy. You just wish you knew what was going on inside of his head. You need to figure it out and you can’t let him leave this house again until you do. Can’t let him slip through your fingers again, not without saying your peace at least.

“What did you mean earlier?” you finally say, recalling Dave’s words from a few minutes ago that you hadn’t understood then.

He doesn’t answer, just stares blankly at you while you turn towards the kitchen island where he and Marcus are sat on opposite sides. 

“You said you were being selfish,” you remind him, eyebrows raising. “What did you mean by that?”

Dave looks away again, shaking his head just slightly like he’s trying to laugh it off but also like he’s stuck and doesn’t know what to say. You continue to stare at him and the moment he lets his gaze float back to you he notices and heaves out another heavy sigh. 

“Was just… trying to take what I could get, while I could get it I guess. Selfish, like I said. Took advantage of your… hospitality,” he finishes lamely with a shrug.

You huff an incredulous laugh, actually kind of pissed off now. “Hospitality?!” Your voice is raised and both men’s heads whip towards your direction upon hearing your outburst. 

“Letting a friend crash in the guest room would’ve been hospitable, but letting him put his cock in my ass? That wasn’t exactly me playing Susie fucking Homemaker, Dave!” you practically spit at him and you actually see him wince momentarily, stung and surprised by your words.

“I know, fuck, I-“ he pauses, bringing his hands to cover his face as he groans, trying to get his thoughts in order. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he eventually settles on, gaze finally finding yours again and looking remorseful. 

“So what the fuck was this morning then?” you grill him again, both hands coming down to plant on the marble surface in front of you as you square your shoulders at him. 

“Look, don't get pissed at me,” he starts with a frustrated huff. “Let’s not pretend like any of this was going anywhere. I took my out months ago so you guys wouldn’t have to do it, and yeah, last night when you turned up I… well, I fucking slipped. I saw you and I just… it doesn’t fucking matter anyway.” He goes back to shaking his head, picking his downturned phone up from the table.

“I can just call an Uber.”

You’re so pissed and confused and hurt you want to slap him but you decide instead to stalk across the kitchen and snatch that phone out of his hands, only, to your surprise, your husband beats you to it.

“Hey!” Dave snaps when Marcus rips the phone from his hand. Marcus, unlike Dave, is not hungover or reeling from a minor head injury and his reflexes are far faster than Dave’s, he quickly moves a couple feet down the counter, next to you now, and shoves the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“She’s right, we deserve a conversation at least,” Marcus argues, folding his arms across his chest and standing tall at your side. “So let’s talk.”

“Jesus Christ the fucking talking with you two,” Dave grumbles, shaking his head in his hands. “Hope that’s strong coffee,” he adds and you roll your eyes but turn around and get to pouring, Marcus grabbing mugs from the nearby cupboard and then heading to the fridge to retrieve the milk.

Everyone takes a moment to collect themselves, making their coffee to their own liking but otherwise all remaining silent, keeping any snarky comments to yourselves for the time being. You wait until you’ve all had a chance to at least have a few sips and get your thoughts in order before you start the conversation again.

“Who said it wasn’t going anywhere?” you finally say, a hint of annoyance in your voice as you cross your arms in front of you again. 

“What?” Dave looks across the island at you, confusion etched across his handsome features.

“You said it wasn’t going anywhere,” you reiterate, shrugging your shoulders once. “Who said that? Not me. Not Marcus.”

“Come on,” he huffs a laugh like you’re the one being ridiculous right now. 

You say nothing, both you and Marcus simply holding your ground and staring at him. Eventually it’s a losing battle for Dave and he has to glance away. 

“Nobody said you had to go anywhere Dave,” you say, your voice softer now and arms dropping to your sides. “You made that decision. Without even discussing it with us, might I remind you.”

“What, you were gonna keep me? Like some pet?” he laughs again, shaking his head. 

“Like a partner,” Marcus chimes in, surprising everyone in the room. Dave’s eyebrows nearly meet his hairline as he turns his gaze towards your husband. 

Dave continues to stare, like he’s waiting for a punchline to drop. When it doesn’t he just lets out a harsh laugh.

“Come on, be serious,” he huffs, still staring, waiting, but neither you or Marcus even flinch.

“You two are fucking married!” he finally shouts, shoving back from the counter and off of his stool when neither of you respond. 

“Yes, we’re fucking married,” you reiterate, reaching down to take your husbands hand in yours. “And we're in love,” you add simply. 

“Yes, I’m aware, I’m not an idiot.” Dave groans, hands falling to his hips now. 

“Apparently you are,” is all you say before you drop Marcus’ hand and cross the room to Dave, placing both hands on either side of his face and planting a kiss to his lips. Dave’s brow furrows, you can feel the way his face contorts in your hands but you kiss him for a solid few seconds until you finally pull back. He doesn’t get a second to react, to question you, to do anything before Marcus is stepping into your place and pressing his own lips to Dave’s. This time, after the initial shock wears off, Dave actually kisses back. His mouth slants slightly before his lips move over Marcus’ and before long he’s opening up to him, letting your husbands tongue glide easily inside and they both let out a quiet moan as the kiss deepens while you stand idly by, watching, not wanting to miss a second of what is their first real kiss together. 

And holy fucking shit is it hot.

It only lasts a few short seconds before Dave’s hands finally come up to Marcus’ chest and he gently pushes him back, leaving them both standing just inches apart and breathing heavily. 

“I don’t… what…” Dave trails off, utterly confused by what is happening right now. He brings his hands to cover his face and groans into them, a quiet mumbled ‘what the fuck’ muffled by the barrier of his hands. 

“Marcus and I are in love,” you say again. “With you,” you add, wanting to make sure he understands you perfectly. His hands drop from his face and he looks at you both, his expression unreadable and for a moment you wonder if you’ve made a mistake. Just completely embarrassed yourselves in front of this man who maybe wasn’t interested in anything more than your bodies between bedsheets. You stand up a little straighter and settle your shoulders, deciding you don’t care if you should feel mortified, your feelings are real and now he knows them. You can’t and won’t regret being truthful with him, no matter the outcome of it. 

Dave finally blinks and you take a small step closer to him, reaching out to take one of his hands in yours. “Say something,” you plead, eyes boring into his.

Dave sighs, looks between you and Marcus and then finally settles his shoulders and speaks.

“Can I have my phone back please?”

God damnit.

“Yeah, of course, sorry.” Marcus shakes his head slightly and pulls the device out and holds it towards Dave who drops your hand to take it back. 

You fight to keep the tears that are starting to well in your eyes at bay. You did your best. Shot your shot, so to speak. Maybe you had been naive this whole time and were reading into things you thought Dave felt for you both that just weren’t there. 

Dave remains silent, grabbing for his phone and gripping it in two hands while he hastily taps away at the screen with both thumbs, most likely arranging his ride to get his car and disappear from your lives once more. You’re devastated, of course, but you know eventually you and Marcus will get through it together. Your husband’s hand slips into yours, interlacing your fingers and giving it a gentle but reassuring squeeze, telling you without words ‘it’s okay, it’ll be okay’ and you love him for it. Both your hearts might be breaking in front of your eyes, but at least you have each other to piece them back together. 

After what feels like a small eternity but in reality was mere seconds Dave finally finishes tapping away on his phone, clears his throat and raises his head to look at you both. You start to open your mouth to say goodbye, wish him well and all that horse shit that is the nice thing to do, when suddenly, two echoing pings sound off from the pockets of both yours and your husbands pajama bottoms. 

Your hand slips from Marcus’ as you both reach to pull out your phones and your heart feels like its about to fucking bottom out when you see the notification on the screen, a new message in your old group chat, from Dave. He’d finally unblocked both your numbers.

“Dinner tonight?” the text simply reads.

This time there’s no stopping them, no holding them back, the tears welled in your eyes begin to spill out and a wide smile breaks at your lips as you raise your head again to look at Dave.

“I’m not running away, I just… I need to go home, shower, maybe get some more sleep so my head will stop feeling like a goddamn marching band is playing up there and… I think I just need some time to think, process, get my head on straight. Then I’ll come over tonight and we can talk about everything. If that’s okay.”

You smile, looking up at him through watery eyes and nod your head. “Of course that’s okay.” 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Marcus adds softly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“And neither are you, we know where you live now, you told us last night,” you joke and Dave lets out a full bellied laugh at that, tossing his head back. 

“What can I say, I’m a sloppy drunk,” he teases in return, but his features even out again when he looks at you now, a smile at your lips but tears in your eyes. He reaches forward, a gentle thumb brushing a stray tear off your cheek and his soft smile returns. 

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely, likely only just now realizing he’d yet to apologize for any of his actions. 

Your smile widens, sight blurred by your tears but you bring a hand up to place over his on your cheek and hold it there a moment longer. “I know,” you nod. 

“So, tonight?” he asks, gaze flickering back and forth between you and Marcus. 

“7 good?” Marcus asks and Dave nods, takes a step forward and leans in to press his lips to your forehead that nearly has you melting into a puddle on the floor. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” he promises, voice barely above a whisper as his breath fans your forehead, thumb absently running back and forth across your cheek. He’s so soft, so warm in this moment you can feel your entire body deflate with all the stress and anxiety you’d been carrying around with you, like it all just melted away with one single promise whispered from his lips against your forehead. 

The distinct buzz that sounds from his pocket pulls you out of the moment and he takes a step back, retrieving his phone from his pocket and taking a quick glance. 

“Ride’s here,” he says, sighing as he slips his phone back into his pocket. Apparently he had actually called for one during one of the times you’d seen him on his phone earlier but you weren’t upset about it now. You’re happy to give him his space for now, knowing that he will come back to you this time and you can empathize with him that this morning was likely a lot to take in for him, it’s a lot for you too. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Marcus says to Dave, placing a gentle hand on your back and smoothing a few circles into your skin just to settle you a bit, knowing how emotional you’re feeling right now. 

“See you at 7,” you manage to rasp out, hand coming up to place over your throat as you clear it. “I’ll put Marcus to work in the kitchen,” you tease your husband, pinching at his side and he laughs but nods in agreement. 

“Happy to,” he smiles easily. “C’mon,” he nods his head towards the front of the house and begins to walk towards the door, Dave following after him. You sigh as you slump against the wall in your open concept kitchen and watch as your husband opens the door for Dave. They pause for a moment and then both open their arms and embrace each other in a quick hug, your heart skipping a beat when you watch Dave’s hand come up to hold onto the top of Marcus’ head for a brief moment before they’re both pulling back from each other and Dave is heading down the steps, turning back momentarily to offer a quick wave before he heads the rest of the way down the driveway and slides into the back seat of the idling car. Marcus waits at the door until the grey sedan backs out of the driveway and speeds down the street, taking Dave away. It’s not until he feels your arms wrap around his middle as you come up behind him that he shakes himself out of his daze, a smile pulling at his lips as he brings his hands down to cover yours. 

“He’ll be back,” Marcus says, almost as if he needs to say it out loud to believe it himself.

“Yeah,” you murmur into his shoulder where your face is currently pressed, knowing he can feel your smile through his soft t-shirt. 

You’ve never been more excited and nervous to have someone over for dinner.

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

[fanaroff]

Blast Off- Above the Nasty Burger Companion

Ao3 Link Here

<< Original Fic. << Companion Ch.

Ember knew what it was like to have stress and be stressed out. More-so when she was alive, but those sorts of things leave a lasting presence on the soul. She knew stress. And Danny? Danny was stressed. It was incredibly easy to see. 

From his rapidly strengthening (and getting uncontrollable as of now) powers to him still having to hide things from his friends and family; Baby-pop was certainly having a time of it. In human-form, bags hung heavy under his eyes, his hair limp, shoulders slumped. At least in ghost-form he didn't have the added weight of gravity on his shoulders. He was already carrying too much on them as it is. Ember tried to her best to help when she could. Who was once just a nuisance had very quickly became someone she saw as a younger brother (of sorts). She cared for him and wanted to see him happy. 

But she knew that from here on, things would only get harder for him.

In the beginning, Ember and the other ghosts had been wary of the portal that had all but blasted it's power across every end of the Ghost Zone. No other portal was like it, but it was obvious that was what it was. Across the Infinite Realms, portals were not unheard of. They were always opening and closing in mere seconds, giving way to different points in history or different universes and were reason enough to be wary of random glowing spaces that open up out of nowhere. This one, though? This one was permanent and stayed in one set time zone. It was unheard of to most ghosts that liked to hop portals into the human realms. 

It wasn't until Skulker went through and came back with tales of an aggressive ghost on the other side that had formed there (instead of in the Ghost Zone) and was exceedingly rare that Ember decided to brave the portal. 

She wasn't interested in the new ghost, far from it. What she was interested in, was grabbing her dream. The one she left behind but still clung to in the form of an Obsession. 

She wanted the world to know her name, as simple as that. 

That "aggressive ghost" came into her after-life anyways and made himself quite the nuisance. The most surprising part? He was half-human!!! A halfa!

There was only one halfa known to the Ghost Zone. One by the name of Vlad Plasmius. He'd made a name for himself quite quickly and was only contacted by the ghosts that sought someone to give them direction. He didn't give them direction, though, and instead commanded them. There were few that stood against him and said 'no.'

Now, there were two of them. Then two became three.

And by the sounds of it, three was once again about to become two. 

It was a bitter-sweet day in Ember's memory when she came across Danny alone in the Ghost Zone. He'd been floating in place, looking lost and sad, and so much like a kicked puppy who'd been left by itself as the side of the road that Ember couldn't help but fly over to see what was up. She would never come to regret that decision. 

Danny had been defensive, of course, but she'd quickly needled her way onto his good side. Still, even with the couple of laughs she'd been able to pull out of him, it was obvious that there was something enormous bothering him. Somehow, she'd gotten him to open up to her. It hadn't been at that first friendly meeting, of course. No-no. It'd been because of an offer of food. 

Ghosts don't need it, but she knew Danny did and she remembered that eating while sad was a comfort when she was alive. So, she snuck some money from the wallet of an asshole rich man (it was Vlad) and cajoled Danny into meeting her above the Nasty Burger. There, she'd plopped the bills into his hand and ordered him to grab a burger from inside and eat it up there with her as the sun set. He'd been surprised and tried to give the money back with protests that she absolutely was not having. It took her threatening to throw his ass into the burger joint herself and then just stealing the food for Danny to give her a long-suffering look and finally get some food into him. 

To her surprise, he'd come back up with a burger for Ember too. 

There, they'd sat on the roof above the Nasty Burger, idly chatting as they watched the sun go down and the lights across the city start to pop up. It was then that Danny had expressed interest in seeing the night sky in person. Ember had told him that all he had to do was look up. This seemed to be the big ice-breaker somehow and he started on a rant about how the light pollution from the city blocked out the stars. 

"Even without the light pollution, it's always cloudy here to the point we hardly ever even get to see the moon!" He'd all but shouted, pacing across the Nasty Burger roof, waving a burger in one hand and sticking a fry in his mouth with the other. Ember had watched on in amusement, glad to see that he had lit up with the topic rather than fall back into the slump he had been in before. 

So, Ember told him about her experiences. How she'd seen the stars absolutely blanket the sky only once when she was alive. 

Danny was surprised that she brought up her past so easily and painlessly. This was after Clockwork and Frostbite had started to coach the halfa in the culture of the Ghost Zone, though he had yet to pick up the nuances. 

"If we open up about the topic and talk about it ourselves, willingly, it's not so bad." Ember told him. She didn't meet his eyes as she said it. It still hurt to talk about. But it wasn't so bad. Instead, she looked across the expanse of the city. "It can be good for us to open up about things like that. What bothers us and what sticks with us." 

Ember had not meant for that to be a prompt for Danny to open up to her, but he met her offer of friendship half way. 

He told her everything. Well, mostly everything. She knew there were still things he was holding back, it was obvious in the way he held himself (protective, curled up), but obviously wasn't going to press. 

A few weeks before, Clockwork had reached out to him. (And wasn't that just astonishing!? THE Clockwork!? Someone she had thought was only legend within the Ghost Zone!? Of course Baby-pop would get mixed up with legends. It's just his luck after all.) There was something important the ghost had to speak with him about. When Danny met with him, Frostbite had been there as well, and Clockwork had informed him that Danny needed to start learning about the culture of ghosts and the Infinite Realms; things that came ingrained, instinct, to the full ghosts that formed in the Zone. There was no precursor, just boom-bam time to learn. 

At this point, Danny started to clam up. He'd curled in more on himself and frowned deeply. 

The topic of ghost royalty had come up, he explained. That Clockwork, Frostbite, Pandora, and a few others that didn't interest Ember as much as those first three, were currently the only "royalty" presiding over any parts of the Zone. But they weren't true royalty, apparently. 

Danny was. 

And wasn't that astonishing to find out?

"Clockwork said I was a Prince of the Infinite Realms." Danny looked close to tears when he told Ember. "I don't want to be! He-... He said that I was set in line to take the throne, the one that Pariah Dark was on. The one that I apparently won when I beat Pariah by the skin of my teeth." Then he told her how, if he were to become King, he would have to die. And he was going to. Eventually his ghost half will take over. 

And Danny didn't have a choice. 

Wasn't that just so damn sad?

He couldn't tell his friends or his family, yet. So, Ember decided right then and there that she was going to take the halfa under her wing and teach him what she knew as well. Like the best places in the Zone to have some fun. The kid really needed some plain old fun in his life. 

They met frequently over the course of two months. Always above the Nasty Burger and always after Ember managed to get him to eat.

She thinks it was a slip of the tongue, really, that got them to where the two were now. He'd mentioned he hadn't found his Obsession yet and had such an 'oops' look on his face after that Ember couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not such a taboo topic that we can't talk about 'em at all! You're fine Baby-pop!" And then the full implications of what he'd said hit her. She smacked him on the arm, stood up and screeched, "YOU DON'T KNOW YOUR OBSESSION YET?"

It was a miracle no one heard her. Or saw her. She may have lost control of her hair flames a moment. May have.

Danny had immediately gone to shush her, but Ember had started pacing, going into a rant about 'how the fuck are you so powerful?' and 'what the fuck Baby-pop?' and 'ooooh my fucking god, what the fuuuuuck?' and about how that 'wasn't fair' and that 'oh Ancients, you're a baby Baby-pop!' Very eloquent. She truly was a poet.

After Ember had calmed down, they sat again and had a small talk about it. That was the start. 

With Danny's agreement, it was decided that Ember would help Amity's resident halfa find his Obsession. Over time, in between his lessons with Clockwork or Frostbite and his free time between school, they talked about what his Obsession could be and they tried several different things. Then Danny started getting stuck in Ghost Speak. It wasn't a problem for Ember, being a ghost and could obviously understand him, but his other friends and family could not. They quickly became more worried about the way he was acting and it became harder and harder for him to get away to meet Ember. 

It was also, obviously, incredibly frustrating for him being unable to communicate with them. He was understandably terrified of never being able to talk to them again. There was a moment, there, that Ember knew he was holding something important back, and again did not press him. He would tell her when he felt comfortable doing so. 

Which brings her to her current situation. 

Danny was stressed, Ember knew stress, and the perfect remedy for some stress relief was a bit of fun. So she made plans. And scrapped them. And made more. And scrapped those. So, she decided on the simplest plan with the simplest fun. 

"Tag! You're it!"

Ember zipped off into the sky, turning on a dime the second her finger met Danny's shoulder, grinning madly. 

"No fair! You didn't give any warning!" She heard him shout behind her. Ember only cackled in response and shot forward. 

It was fun. Fun that Ember hadn't realized she herself needed as well. As the sun started to set, they swooped and spun in the air. Danny would get Ember with a brush of his fingers and Ember would screech in mock anger as he shouted "Tag!" and took off. They chased each other for hours. Both had more than enough energy to expend on the task. 

Enjoying the wind and the chase, Ember would still check in on Danny, watching him as they flew when she could. He had a grin on his face, as wide as hers, and had a life to his eyes she realized she hadn't seen in a while. It was good to see it back. Ember patted herself on the back for this. He needed it.

The game took them higher and higher into the sky. The longer it went, the more sure Ember was that she was going to protect this little halfa for the rest of her after-life if she could. And that was without the perk of him being future king. He needed someone in his circle and she would do her best to be a support. 

Ember cackled again and took a random sharp turn that surprised Danny and led them farther away from the city. It was then that she remembered his rant about the light pollution that blocked the stars and thought, "Why not?"

She led the game more purposefully to where she knew there were less lights. It took some doubling back to snag Danny when he managed to tag her and took off in the wrong direction, but she eventually led him up above the clouds and far enough away from the light pollution. Stars were already starting to dot the sky and she had to do quick dodges away from Danny to watch the moon gain height in the sky. Now, she only had to wait until he noticed. 

In her excitement at the thought, Ember shot straight up into the air. She went up, up, up. She could almost feel Danny gaining on her. She went up some more until they broke through the last ring of clouds.

Seeing the sky in its full glory struck her just the same as it did when she was alive. If she could breathe, the air would have been knocked out of her. Ember's eyes grew wide and she slowed her flying. Oh, how she remembered wishing she could reach her hand up and touch the sky. And now, she could do it. And Danny could too. With a smile, Ember realized there was no way Danny hadn't noticed the sky now. Wanting to drink in the sight of his face seeing the sky in full for the first time, Ember turned. 

She didn't even have a chance to catch even a glimpse of him before he was rocketing past her fast enough to almost leave her spinning. She gaped after him in surprise, wondering what in the world that was for, when she saw it. 

Danny was alight. 

His normal ghostly glow had been amped up to eleven and sparkling dots freckled his exposed skin. Ember had but a mere millisecond to realize that Danny was still speeding upwards, towards the moon, and that his skin was rapidly paling to a soft shade of blue. 

Shit. She knew those signs. 

"Danny!" Ember took off after him with a shout. 

What set him off? They were just playing tag! She didn't know what it could have been! How long had the Obsession Trance been setting in? How long it took for her to notice was entirely too quick. 

"Danny!" She called after him again. Danny made no notice of having heard her. Ember grit her teeth and increased her speed. If Danny was any stronger, she never would have been able to catch up. She was struggling as it was to keep on his tail. She pushed herself, yelling as she shot hot flames from her hands to give herself every bit of boost she needed to catch him. 

It took just a moment, but she managed to wrap a hand around one of the wrists at his side. He was fast and Ember almost lost her grip, but somehow was able to hang on. In a quick tug, Ember basically put on the air brakes and pulled backwards as hard as she could. "Danny!" She shouted, hoping it would grab his attention long enough for her to get a better hold on him. 

By the Ancients he was cold. It wasn't just that his ghostly glow was brighter, there was literal ice vapor drifting off of him and reflecting the natural glow he already had. The pale blue-green was starting to darken to a shade of green a little lighter and less saturated than ectoplasm and Ember prayed to the Ancients that it is not the color the skin of his ghost-form would settle into because Danny would absolutely hate it. 

Danny tugged harshly against her, still not seeming to have noticed she was there and only strained upwards. 

Shit, he was strong. It was a struggle just to drag him close enough to hold him to her. 

"Phantom!"

Ember had but a moment to let go as Danny whipped around and snapped bared teeth (holy shit, fangs) just a millimeter from her nose. The sharp clack of his teeth startled a gasp out of her. His eyes were glowing dangerously. Two bright pools of ectoplasm with the tiniest pin prick of a white pupil. He looked scary. Scarily strong. Scarily sharp. And scarily deep into an Obsession Trance. 

With her grip on him gone, Danny shot upwards again. Ember yelped and latched on again as quickly as she could, holding on and trying to wrap her arms around the chest of the struggling halfa. Her core throbbed in sympathy as Danny let out a heart-wrenching whine that was so incredibly in-human and so un-like him. She hated this. She didn't know what the cause of his Obsession Trance was yet and she knew it was agony to him to keep Danny in place. She felt it so strongly herself once before. The pain in her core had settled to an ever-lasting feeling that she knew she would never be able to complete. Her dream was a lost one. 

Danny snarled, wiggling against her arms as Ember pressed her cheek to his back, eyes tightly shut in the effort that it was to try and hold him still. A litany of angry, hurt, desperate noises escaped him and Ember couldn't help the sympathetic whine that bubbled from her throat. Danny lashed against her particularly hard and Ember almost lost her grip.  "Fuck! Phantom! Danny, listen to me!" Ember readjusted and tried to get a stronger grip. "Shit! What set you off? Fuck!" 

Desperately, she glanced around. She tried to see if there was anything that she had missed, something that escaped her notice. Anything that could be the cause of Danny's sudden Trance. Anything to help because she could feel him slipping from her. He was too strong. She would not be able to hold him forever and he needed someone to be able to pull him back to reality.

Ember yelped as Danny managed to pull an arm free. She caught him again in time to keep him from getting away, but she was unable to recapture his arm. He let out a particularly long whine as he reached that arm upwards, hand out almost as if he were trying to reach for the sky above them. 

"The- the sky?" She tried to grasp what it was he wanted. Her mind was focused too much on what she could do to keep Danny still, she couldn't think. "But you see the sky every day!"

No, that couldn't be it. Think, think, Ember McLain. 

"Fuck, not the sky." By the Ancients, she was so stupid! "The stars? The moon?"

"Stars!" shouted Danny. It was all the confirmation Ember needed. "Stars, moon, stars!" It was as if Danny suddenly remembered that speech was a thing he could do, as once he started, he didn't seem to want to stop. 

"Asteroids! Asterism! Luna! Constellations! Meteors! Black holes! Satellites!" He all but chirped the words in stumbling, stilted Ghost Speak with an almost childlike jubilancy and desperation. All the while, Danny kept his escaped arm reaching, straining, upwards and his eyes firmly pointed towards the Milky Way that poured its stars across the sky the darker it got. 

With a sigh of relief that she knew what was going on now, she gave Danny an aborted pat on the chest. "Okay! Okay, baby-pop. Space ghost, gotcha." 

Of course it would be Danny. She should have known. 

"Space!"

Oh, he was really stuck in a Trance.

"Yep, uh-huh. Space." Ember mumbled in agreement. "Fuck. what do I do?"

She wracked her mind for what she could do in this situation. She knew what to do for ghosts with lesser Trances or ones where they could immediately have some sort of fulfillment or satisfaction enough to calm down enough to return to reality. But Danny's Obsession seemed to be space and it wasn't like Ember could let him just shoot off into the sky! If she let him and wasn't able to keep up with him, he could forever be stuck in an Obsession Trance. He would be lost to the literal stars until he burned any ectoplasm stored in his body. He needed access to the Ghost Zone and he had a human half he needed to feed! (On top of that, she wasn't even sure ghosts could go into space. None have tried to her knowledge and she certainly wasn't going to leave Earth willingly.)

Trying to calm Danny down and think, Ember forced a vibrating buzz through her core until it ramped up to a comforting purr. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hanging like a backpack for a moment, hoping he wouldn't notice that she'd actively stopped pulling against him and reached a hand up to start carding through his hair.  "Um... uh..." She struggled to form a coherent sentence that may get through to Danny. She thought back to the terms he had chirped out moments ago, trying to figure out how to turn the familiar terms into something she could use to keep Danny grounded. "Rockets? Do you like rockets?" 

Danny froze. 

Ember glanced at him as quickly as she could. Fuck, his ears were starting to point. 

"NASA? Or just space?" Danny started to struggle again. Desperately, Ember shouted, "Danny, tell me when NASA was founded!"

The struggled stopped for just a moment, long enough for Danny to trill loudly and his core buzz strong enough that she could hear it. Holy shit. 

"1958! July 29th!" He all but sang. 

"Good! That's good!" Ember latched onto this topic. Distract him. She had to distract him. "That's so cool! Why- uh- why was NASA founded?"

"In response to Sputnik l! It's a satellite!" Danny started to babble facts about why Nasa was founded (ones that Ember later would admit she had not known herself). His ramblings then devolved rapidly. "Launch! Satellite! I can launch! Me! I want to go! I want! To! Go!"

His struggles renewed harshly and Ember had to almost hold onto Danny's hair to keep a grip. She winced internally, hoping he didn't feel that. Ember yelped as Danny twisted and his legs warped to a single ghostly tail with a growl, making her loose her hold with her own legs. 

"Danny! Danny, Danny listen! Sh, sh, it's okay! Uh-I... uh... shit." Ember reached desperately for any idea in her mind that may help. She remembered feeling similar with trying to find something to help Danny destress and have fun. She'd settled on a game before, maybe she could do it again. "Uuuuuh… oh! Uh, Danny, do you want to play game? Do you want to play a space game? It’s very, very important. There’s a star without any planets to circle around it.” 

She hoped that would get his attention and she waited as he paused. 

"Oh, that is very sad! But it will get a planet of it's own!" Danny stopped his struggles and started to mumble seemingly to himself. But he heard her. That was a start. "Oh! I can help it not be lonely! I could go visit!" 

He started to move again. Fuck! She didn't need him to try and fly off. "The star is right here!" Ember yelped. 

Danny stopped and he listened to her! Thank the Ancients!

Ember tentatively let go as Danny turned in her grip, eyes wide and searching in a child-like way. As if she were holding a rare piece of candy that he would get to enjoy. She then focused inwards, on her core and the power flowing through the ectoplasm in her veins. She coaxed the flames that served as her hair to cover her entire body, turned her in a person-shaped ball of flame. 

"See?" Ember encouraged his attention. "A bright and shiny, planet-less star! And the game is that you get to be the planet! But you have to orbit around it or you loose and don’t get to be a planet anymore!”

(She was basically pulling the idea out of her ass. If this works, she is going home and sleeping for weeks.)

Danny fidgeted in place. He whined and looked very indecisive. Slowly, almost testing, he flew forward and did a slow, lazy lap around Ember. 

With a grin, Ember turned in place to watch him. After the first lap, Danny seemed to decide that this was what he wanted to do. His face softened from the agony of Trance to a more contented look, Ember let herself slump in relief.

Holy shit. That was so much. She never wanted to do this again. She eyed Danny a moment. Knowing his luck he'd be one of those twice-tranced ghosts. She hoped not. She would be tired enough holding this position with him for however long it would take for him to snap out of the Obsession Trance without having to do it a second time.

As Danny circled and rotated around her, Ember finally allowed herself a chance to take a closer look at him. 

When ghosts first formed in the Zone, fresh after death, they tended to look more human. More like how they were when they were alive. Over time, they would loose those human qualities, but that is usually if they only stay in the Ghost Zone without pursuing their Obsessions and it can take years. Sometimes more than a human's lifetime. But those seeking their Obsessions or have found them are different. Finding one's Obsession would throw them into what is called an 'Obsession Trance' where the core of a ghost becomes so stuck and well, obsessed, with their dreams from life that it quickens the natural change ghosts go through. Ghosts that leave the Zone often, or stay outside of it, are encouraged to find their Obsession so they do not go into a Trance and cause issues in the human realm. Too many bad things have happened for ghosts and humans alike when that happens, which is why Ember knew she needed to be there for Danny. He was so strong already. If he went into a Trance around humans and they tried to keep him from leaving like Ember did? She shudders to think of the damage that could have been done.

The main point is: Obsession Trances basically cause Ghost Puberty Speed Edition. But rather than take years, it's supposed to take a couple of days! And it looks like Danny almost did a full change in minutes! His core is going to be so sore afterwards, Ember knows it. 

(And in the back of her mind, she wonders how much more dangerous this makes him.)

His hair so far has stayed white, but his skin had developed a green-blue pallor that still seemed to be decided which shade it wanted to be, darkening and lightening with each rotation around the 'sun.' Lights dotted his across his nose and cheeks like star-lit freckles. Ember was not sure what color his eyes may settle on, they were still stuck in the ectoplasm green color that all those in a Trance gain. She'd seen his teeth earlier and hoped that they, and the pointed ears, do not bother Danny too bad. She didn't know why, but the mention of him developing fangs once before sent him into a downward spiral that lasted a week. Ember hated to think what would happen if he actually kept them. 

All she could do was hope at this point. 

And be there for him when he needs it. 

Ember lost sense of time as she rotated in place with Danny, keeping him in her sights. He circled and rotated and circled, over and over again. Never ending, always moving, never stopping. Clouds parting for them when the wind blew them gently across the sky, wisps breaking and decondensing further away. After a while, each loop and circle seemed to draw Danny closer and closer towards her until, finally, Danny seemed to tire. 

A last rotation brought him almost flush against Ember and she allowed him to drape himself how he wanted on her. His core buzzing loudly was a comfort to her, the sound almost like a cat, as he settled, contented, around her waist with his ghostly tail twisted over her legs and cheek pressed to her hip. Ember stayed still and waited. Her mind whirled. 

He'd been stuck in a Trance for longer than she'd ever heard of. It had just become night when Danny's Trance had started, hadn't it? She's never really heard of them lasting for more than a couple of hours at most. But here Danny is, going through the night. It's such a him situation to be in.

It was a relief when Ember noticed the sky starting to lighten and Danny's slow blinks turning more normal and frequent (well, for him). He stared out dreamily and finally seemed to be coming out of it. 

Ember smiled tiredly down at him. She'd kept up her flames all night and was looking forward to being able to recharge later. "You with me, Space-cadet?"

Danny made no noise for a moment before giving a very slow hum. 

"Words, Danny. C'mon you can do it." She coaxed. 

"Mm..."

Ember sighed and patted his head. "Please don't make me drag you to FentonWorks and have Jazz put you in a thermos." As she said it, she knew she wouldn't actually do that but that didn't mean she didn't consider it. She stopped patting Danny's hair when he growled and continued when he made no other move except to give give his head a small shake. He blinked rapidly, frowned, then stared blearily up at Ember. 

She was so happy to see the bright green fading from his sclera. Ember grinned at him. 

"Well, Space-cadet. You found your Obsession." << Original Fic. << Companion Ch.

>> I really wanted to make a companion piece to chapter 3 of Above the Nasty Burger. It can be read on it's own, of course, but I feel I wanted to make this just to add a bit of extra-ness, you know? Little bit of POV switch drama. Ember is a doll and I love her. She deserves her own POV, especially after the Big BrainTM move she made.

[makeyoumine69]

My Lovely Detective III

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

— CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

— CONTAINS: Unprotected non-con sex, fingering, thigh riding (kinda), rough body play & kissing, cloth ripping, manhandling, swearing, degradation, cum shot.

— WORDS: 2.7k

— A/N: Thank you for your support! 💗😍😘

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

The Fall

Bateman’s shameless touch on her mound caused her legs to shake a bit, but Andrea managed to pull herself together, just like she was trained in the police academy.

"Mm-mmhm," the detective's low moan echoed off the walls of his fashionable living room. "Jus-st," she managed to say through the gag. "Kill m-me...already."

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to the side, trying to hide from his piercing gaze and hot breath. The firmness of his palm on her pussy was the last thing she needed to worry about, but the way her body was reacting insisted on doing something. With deliberate but gentle movements, the brunette arched her back like a cat about to slip from his grip.

Patrick knitted his eyebrows in concentration. Why didn't he just kill her like he had originally planned? Even Paul Allen, that smug bastard, hadn't suffered for long...

"Sassy girls just don't understand this luxury. I'm a 'narcissistic liar'?" Patrick suddenly remembered the personal verdict she'd written along her notes, and added with a very soft voice, as if he regretted having to tell her this: "Wrong. I'm a fucking psychopath, darling."

So close to her exposed neck, her scent was overwhelmingly intense, not a perfume he could name, but something that drove him crazy. And disguised as mockery, he couldn't help but kiss her neck.

An electric shock coursed through Andrea's nerves at his unexpected move, the warmth of his lips making her small body tremble, and she could swear to God that she tried to pull away from him, but she was stuck.

"A-awwwww," she squealed, twitching under his massive frame. "S-stop...mmh-stop...mmphp-please!"

‘Yeah, yeah, you think I'm so scared and vulnerable… c'mon, enjoy my weakness…’

The woman tried to close her legs just to provoke him, to make him think she was scared and didn't want him to continue. The moment he lost his attention, she would stun him with the bottle of wine that lay on the coffee table next to the large knife. No, she would not die today. Noticing the detective's attempts to back away, Patrick replaced his hand between her legs with a knee, forcing them apart with more force. Her back was half bent over the short back of the couch, and through the sheer proximity of their bodies, Patrick could feel her small frame trembling beneath him. The gag was pretty much undone by this point, but he didn't care. The sense of power her reaction had given him was dangerous for both of them - he found himself trapped in a tunnel vision of desire and suddenly obsessed with the idea of leaving his mark on her… He bit down on the sensitive flesh of her neck.

Only now did the woman realize that her hands were free, and for a moment she tried to claw at his biceps through the expensive fabric of his jacket, but it only seemed to spur him on as she heard his low growl close to her ear. 

Twitching, Andrea managed to spit out the gag. "Leave me alone, you fucking ... you fucking asshole!" 

With a loud grunt, the detective began to struggle, trying to kick him off and reach the bottle on the coffee table, his knee between her legs pressed against her mound and it was quite painful, but she didn't care.

"Fucking bitch!" Patrick snapped, and as the detective struggled violently against him, he reached a breaking point. "I'm done with this!"

In one swift movement, he grabbed the woman by her curls and brutally forced her face down on the couch. It was a humiliating position - Patrick pressed against Andrea while her ass was half in the air, the muscular thighs trapping her. With his free hand he reached effortlessly for the knife, his arm much longer than hers. He held the hair out of her face, enjoying the look of fear on her face.

As the woman felt the sharp, cold steel against her throat, her whole life flashed before her eyes, but in the next moment she was in control of her emotions.

"Why did you stop?" Andrea taunted him without any visible anxiety. "Or haven't you decided yet what you want to do with me—fuck me or kill me? Or maybe both?"

The detective spat out her words in his face. She knew that if Patrick would kill her, the police would get his ass, since she had informed her boyfriend before going to dinner with Bateman. But the prospect of being killed didn't seem appealing.

"They're going to get you, Bateman," the woman suddenly hissed through clenched teeth. "They know I had dinner with you... you know what I mean? The police will barbecue your fucking ass even if you kill me!"

Patrick couldn't help but laugh at her words. Not because she was completely wrong (statistically, he should have been found out long ago), but because she had misjudged his nature.

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. I just can't stop." 

He stared at her absently, not entirely pleased with the idea that this woman might be his last victim, and yet not feeling the usual panic attack rising within him. If there had ever been a point of no return, this wasn't it. 

"...but either way, you are about to pay the price for your insufferable curiosity…” And with a very quick and calculated move, he drew the blade of his knife down Andrea's body. 

From the neckline to the hem, Patrick had sliced open her dress precisely, leaving her skin almost completely intact - except for a razor-thin cut on her thigh. He roughly pushed the fabric aside, exposing her body, which was devastatingly tanned all over. No tan lines. Even though Bateman hadn't intended to cut Andrea's skin—not now, he had done so by accident, and now her soft skin was cracked in places, the cuts itch and hurt, but she still didn't dare to be weak and pathetic. With several long cuts, he slashed her clothes, leaving her completely naked from head to toe.

As the man traced her thin trail of pubic hair, the detective couldn't help but bite her lower lip. "Why...why are you acting like you're seeing a woman's body for the first time?" No matter how hard she tried to hide her growing arousal, her voice betrayed her.

"I see your boyfriend didn't pay much attention to you." Patrick tried to sound dismissive at the sight of her pubic hair—both the prostitutes and the hard bodies from the club were always clean shaven. 

Still, he found it hard to pull his hands away from her, finding himself embarrassingly curious about what it would feel like to put his mouth on her. Shaking off such crazy thoughts, Patrick instead let his fingers wander lower and spread her lower lips, well aware of how her core trembled under his touch and how she tried not to make a sound. 

"Is that why you're so wet for a psychopath?"  And though he said it with his usual arrogance, his voice dropped a little lower.

Andrea couldn't help but arch her back towards him, and she didn't even know if she was doing it to stop him from killing her, or if it was her physical need that confirmed his previous statement about her boyfriend. "Bateman," she gasped as his fingers dove into her heat. "Bateman...mmhm-mmm, fuck me," the woman moaned suddenly, grinding against his body. "I know you want it... I know you crave dominance...so take what you want..." Her seductive whisper was designed to make him lose his mind, which would give her opportunities to play around. "Ruin me…"

Never before had a woman offered herself to Patrick with such blatant desperation, let alone one so aware of his dark nature. And even though the detective was probably hoping to save her life, he could tell that her body wanted him at the same time. His fingers had slipped into her too easily, the wet sound so obscene and the way she urged him to go deeper... Still holding her with one hand, Patrick loosened his tie and tore open his pants, pulling off his suspenders as he did so. He didn't bother to strip completely for the moment; part of him wanted her to admire his toned body, but the other part enjoyed the contrast of her vulnerable nakedness and his formal clothing. 

"Oh, you don't even know what you're asking for, little detective," Patrick groaned hoarsely, grabbing her by the hips and pulling Andrea effortlessly onto his lap, where she was now pressed flush against his length. Without even giving her a chance to answer, Patrick kissed Andrea hard on the lips. With a muffled gulp, the detective wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to his kiss with no less passion, tangling her fingers in his soft hair, now so messy and curly.

"Mmhmm...you're so needy, Mr. Bateman," Andrea whispered into his ear after breaking the kiss, leaving a trail of split between their mouths. "I thought I was not your type," the woman nipped at his neck and sucked on the mark. "But your erection says otherwise." Slowly, she began to hump on him, pressing against his hard groin. With every thrust of her hips against his, Andrea moaned loudly, her face flushed and sweaty.

"I could say the same about you - first I get bratty insults, now you hump my lap like a bitch in heat. Where does that come from?" Patrick murmured in a low voice, less threatening but still expressing his arousal. 

Unable to suppress the twitch of his cock at her words, he only pressed her closer to his hot flesh, brushing against her entrance. His hands had found their way to Andrea's ass, greedily cupping and massaging the soft skin, a kind of silent and far more honest response. ‘I just feel sorry for this woman who never had a really good fuck.’

Andrea's disheveled hair seemed to have doubled in volume, her tits pressed teasingly against his chest with every movement, and Patrick felt so overwhelmed for a moment; as if he could eat and consume her, but somehow not in the literal sense as he had done with others before.

Gasping, Andrea mentally begged her boyfriend for forgiveness before wrapping her hand around the base of Bateman's fat cock, then pumping the full length. "You're... so pathetic..." she uttered into the crook of his neck before she lowered herself onto his dick and the moment its tip slipped into her heat, the woman screamed in pain. "F-fuck, why are...why are you so fucking big," she stopped halfway, grabbing his shoulder and trying to adjust to his size. "So pathetic...but big…”

Patrick watched Andrea's struggle with undisguised satisfaction, the way she desperately tried to get somewhere, making her insults seem like projection. "You can't wait to have me, and it makes you act like a virgin. You think this will work without preparation?" He took his length and pressed it flush against Andrea's stomach, showing how easily it reached from her entrance past her belly button. "You're either a lot more masochistic than you admit, or you're used to small dicks," Patrick murmured in her ear with barely controlled temper. "Am I right? Your boyfriend is so small that he can do it without lube?"

He let go of her trembling thighs and suddenly pushed Andrea to the floor, forcing her to lie on her back - her soft flesh was so warm to the touch - a startling contrast to the cold wooden floor. 'She had probably never been tied up before. Plush handcuffs at most, I'd say,' Patrick thought with a mixture of contempt and raw excitement. 'I'm going to show her a whole new spectrum of pain and pleasure, and this pathetic little body is so unprepared for it, it might as well have never been fucked before.'

"Well, this is all you get either way for being such an insufferable little cunt." Patrick spat crudely on her pussy and watched in fascination as it clenched around nothing. 

As soon as Andrea tried to move away from him, he pinned her hips down with one hand and used the other to roughly spread his salvia all over her. Experimentally, he pumped two of his fingers inside her. It would not help, Patrick knew very well. A final slap on her sensitive mound that made Andrea tremble before Patrick spread her legs apart and drove his cock into her tightness with a sharp trust of his hips. The woman's legs shook from the pain of Bateman's fat girth tearing her apart from the inside out, and the worst part was that this bastard was right - her boyfriend was nothing compared to him, absolutely nothing. 

'But... but I love him anyway… I'm just doing this to get back to him alive.' This thought made Andrea whimper and swallow her tears from the physical and mental pain. "Bateman, Bateman..." she hiccupped as his cockhead poked at her cervix. "F-fuck, it's so deep..." she had to close her eyes because she couldn't see Patrick's smug face as he had her sing for him like a siren. "It won't fit!" At some point, the woman was afraid that his dick, with its size, would fucking tear her apart, she could feel her soft inner walls desperately trying to accommodate what he was giving her, even though it was too fucking painful. One raw stroke after another, her body was nothing but a canvas for his wicked paintings and she couldn't do anything but let him have his way with her. 'I'm so sorry.'

Andrea was dying of shame, especially when she felt her orgasm building in her core from the fullness Bateman was giving her, not to mention when this jerk trapped her hard nipple between his expert fingers, twisting it like a radio volume control. "Ahh-hhhhh, you're gonna...you're gonna fucking split me in a half…!" The woman screamed, clawing at her own skin to stifle her cries.

"Look at that, I'm holding back but you already can't take it," Patrick spat out, not angry but grasping for control at the sight of his base still unable to fit inside. 

She was so tight - so much tighter than Patrick had expected, tighter than any he had ever had and God yes, he wanted to fuck her apart, even if it would kill them both. He wouldn't have been able to stop with a gun to his head, let alone care about her crying and pleading, which only served to intensify his destructive frenzy. Holding Andrea by the hips, a grip so hard it would leave bruises, Patrick forced her body into his power, pressing her harder against him like a cheap doll. And as if her weight meant nothing, he thrusted her brutally, the friction he gained with every movement washing over him in hot pleasure. The sound of skin against skin echoed off the walls and her increasingly mindless babbling and moaning challenged the soundproofing, but Patrick had never cared less. 

"Did you know that Tom Cruise lives in this complex? Tom fucking Cruise can hear you whining like a whore!" He laughed breathlessly at the sight of Andrea writhing underneath him and how little it had taken for her pride to crumble. 

But his punishment came only seconds later. 

As her orgasm approached, Andrea squeezed him even tighter, something that seemed impossible but almost caused Patrick to lose it on the spot, forcing a raw moan from his throat. But he couldn't have that, couldn't allow himself the humiliation of cumming right in front of her eyes, so he gritted his teeth and cursed and fucked Andrea through her first climax, fucked her until the overstimulation hurt him and it became impossible to delay the inevitable any longer. Patrick had barely enough time to pull out before a violent shudder ran through his body and he exploded all over her, spilling even her face with stray drops of his thick cum. And as Bateman looked down at her, breathing heavily and meeting Andrea's glazed eyes, Patrick knew that it was not nearly enough for him… that he needed her more…

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!

[carabalism]

nuisance part one

pairing(s) twd x teen!reader, daryl dixon × teen!reader (platonic)

warning(s) canon-typical violence/gore

note nuisance is back and is being rewritten! if you feel like you’ve read this before ur not going crazy

wattpad link , masterlist , next part

the sounds of leaves crunching beneath the weight of someone's boots startle y/n from her sleep. in a quick, but quiet motion, she unties the skipping rope from around her torso that she used to secure her to the tree she sought refuge in the night prior. peeking her head out behind the tree ever so slightly, y/n was able to notice a man crouching close to the ground, his vision is cast down at the ground. to anyone it would've looked like he was just admiring a cool rock or something, but y/n recognised what he was doing. he was a tracker.

"hey!" y/n called down to the man, who immediately stood up and aimed his crossbow up at her, "you huntin'?"

he didn't respond and continued glaring at her, though he hesitates to keep his crossbow pointed at her. she's a kid, a scrawny looking one at that. it's not like she could do much to harm him.

"you deaf or something?" y/n raised an eyebrow at him, she reached over to her backpack and dug through it for a few seconds. before he could question her, a dead squirrel was flung from the tree and landed on the ground in front of daryl. he crouched down to the ground to pick it up, but kept his crossbow aimed at the girl.

"thanks," he grunts in acknowledgment, securing the squirrel to his back.

"where ya headed?" y/n kicked her legs back and forth as they dangled over the branch she had slept on the previous night.

"ain't ya a nosey bitch," he scoffed, squinting his eyes at her.

"hey, i just gave you free food, asshole!" y/n yells, her words accompanied by an impolite hand gesture, "where you goin'? got a camp?"

when she received no answer from the man, she reached around the tree trunk, unhooking her bow from a knife she had stabbed into the tree to create a makeshift hanger for the bow. she pulled the knife out of the tree and cut her backpack down from a piece of rope she had tied around a higher branch. slinging the bag over one shoulder, she slipped her knife into a sheath by her belt and held up the bow, waving it at daryl, "i know how to hunt. lemme come with."

daryl lowered his crossbow, but his lip twitched in annoyance, "whatever, if a geek shows up i ain't savin' y'er ass."

y/n rolled her eyes, but didn't dignify his words with a response and instead secured her bow and quiver to her back. she swung the skipping rope she had previously tied around herself around the tree and wrapped both ends around her hands and slowly made her way down the tree.

"geeks?" y/n scoffed, a smirk growing on her face, "that what you call 'em?"

daryl glared at the teen, "what'd you call 'em then, smartass."

"biters," y/n shrugged, reaching behind her back to retrieve her bow and an arrow from her quiver, "y'know, 'cause they bite?"

"whatever," daryl began walking, following the same tracks he had been previously, "ya out here alone?"

"yeah." y/n's tone sharpened, "you?"

daryl looked over his shoulder briefly, surprised that someone so young survived on their own, "nah, ma' brother 'n some group."

"really?" y/n questioned, surprise evident in her tone. she spins, looking around with false curiosity, "you seem pretty alone to me."

daryl was starting to lose his patience with the smart mouthed girl, "shut up."

the two tracked in silence, occasionally killing walkers in their way. y/n could tell that the man was not a threat to her, but she kept quiet to avoid antagonising him. the girl did annoy daryl, but he had to admit to himself she had valuable skills that none of the kids at the camp had, but he would keep that to himself. there was a clear difference in abilities between the girl and the other children he knew of. this kid was alone and alive with nothing more than a few faint bruises and scrapes across her skin.

y/n stopped in her tracks, aiming her bow at a squirrel on a tree. she pulled the arrow back to her cheek and when she was confident with her aim, she released the arrow, impaling the squirrel.

"nice shot." daryl grunted, watching her pull the arrow out the tree and then out of the squirrel.

"thanks," y/n smirked at daryl, "you're pretty good with that crossbow."

daryl rolls his eyes. pretty good? he was damn good.

"so what's your name?" y/n asked, following him again.

daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, contemplating whether or not he should tell the tree-dwelling girl his name. he figured it wouldn't hurt, "daryl."

"daryl." y/n repeats his name to herself, "you ain't a rapist or nothin' right?"

"huh?" daryl's head snaps in y/n's direction, startled by the question.

"stranger danger? ever heard of it?" y/n raises an eyebrow at the man, her tone slightly patronising.

"if i was a rapist, 'm sure y'would've figured that out by now."

"not that you asked, but my name's y/n." she rolled her eyes, looking back at the ground to spot any other trails to follow.

"ya don't look a day over ten, how old're you?" daryl asked, the question had been on his mind the entire time she had been following him. he was curious how she had made it so far without anyone.

"i'm twelve actually." y/n states matter-of-factly, her eyes squinting at the back of his head as she corrected him.

"big difference." he scoffed.

"it is a big difference. next year i'll be a teenager." she says, her voice full of pride.

daryl grunts in acknowledgement, but didn't press the subject further. the thought that she may not live to make it to her teens passes through his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. there was no time to think about the future anymore, there was only now. not that daryl spent much time thinking about the future anyways.

the two had gathered a large haul in the time they hunted together, but despite this daryl continued walking and y/n followed.

"this deer better be worth it." daryl grumbled.

y/n heard rustling coming from ahead and shushed daryl. he turned to look at her and she had put her finger to her lip to signal him to be quiet. daryl's jaw clenched in annoyance, but he held his tongue and decided he could give her an earful later. she was telling him to be quiet? yeah right.

they both readied their weapons as quietly as they could and slowly approached the noise ahead, suspecting a walker ahead. daryl walked ahead into a small clearing where a group of men all had weapons held up.

"son of a bitch!" daryl yelled, lowering his weapon and making his way over to the deer, "that's ma' deer!"

y/n kept her bow up, staring at the group of men intensely. daryl clearly knew these men well enough to lower his weapon, but y/n didn't have a clue whether they could be trusted.

"look at it. all gnawed on by this.." daryl stared at the deer in disgust, "filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" each word he said was accompanied by a kick to the corpse's side.

"calm down, son. that's not helping." one of the men spoke up. y/n stayed quiet, not walking out into the clearing until she knew it was safe to do so. the men were yet to notice her, far too distracted by daryl's outburst to even consider there being another person.

"what'd you know 'bout it, old man?" daryl stepped closer to dale, "why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond?"

"i've been trackin' this deer for miles." daryl complained, pulling his arrows out of the deer, "s'gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. what'd you think? d'ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

"i would not risk that," shane responded.

"that's a damn shame," daryl sighed, "i got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so, that'll have to do."

y/n noticed the walker's head detached from its body move, no one had killed the brain. she aimed her bow at the walker's head and released the arrow, her shot puncturing it through the skull.

"c'mon people, what the hell?" daryl scoffed, "it's gotta be the brain. don't y'all know nothin'?"

the men were suddenly on guard again, staring at the girl who shot the arrow, "who the hell is that?!"

y/n lowered her bow and raised her hands in the air to show she wasn't a threat.

"some dumb kid, found 'er in a tree." daryl grunted walking away, "merle!"

rick looked over at dale, silently telling him to deal with the girl, whilst him and shane dealt with daryl. dale nodded at rick and waited for rick to leave and follow after daryl.

"what's your name, kid?" dale smiled at the girl, trying his best to not intimidate her.

"what's your's?" y/n squinted her eyes at him.

"i'm dale, the other's you saw were shane, rick, glenn and jim. you seem to know daryl, so no need to tell you his name," he explained, "i've given you a few names now, do i get to know your's?"

"y/n," she nodded, "got a few squirrels, take as much as you 'n your group need 'n i'll be on my way."

"that's quite generous of you, y/n," dale compliments as he watches y/n pull a rope with dead squirrels attached off her shoulder and threw it on the ground towards him.

"call it southern hospitality or whatever," she shrugged, putting her bow on her back. she grabbed her arrow from the walker's skull and tucked it back into her quiver.

"you sure your folks won't want some?" dale tilted his head. he was good with his words, each word chosen on purpose to figure out the girl in front of him.

"when you see my folks, give me a holler, ain't seen 'em in a while," y/n scoffed, eyeing dale as he crouched to the ground to pick up the rope and dead squirrels.

"why don't you stay a bit then? eat with a group of people for a change?" dale smiled kindly, gesturing back to the camp behind him.

y/n looked behind him to see daryl in a chokehold and she raised an amused eyebrow at dale, "seems like y'all got plenty of entertainment, why not."

dale furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and turned back to see the commotion, "it's not always like this.."

"damn shame that is," y/n laughed, walking towards the camp with dale following close behind. shane throws daryl to the ground, releasing him from the chokehold and y/n smirked, amused at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"what i did was not on a whim," rick stared at daryl, "your brother does not work and play well with others."

"what happened?" y/n whispered to dale.

"rick, the one in white, handcuffed daryl's brother to a rooftop.. left him there." dale replied honestly, looking at the ground with shame written across his face.

"i'd be pissed too." y/n sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. she had noticed people stare at her, but not say anything about her presence, seeing as there was a much bigger problem at hand.

"it's not rick's fault, i had the key. i dropped it." t-dog spoke up, y/n could tell by the way he looked and spoke that he felt guilty, ashamed even.

"ya couldn't pick it up?" daryl questioned, squinting at the other man.

"well, i dropped it in a drain."

daryl scoffed and lowered his head, he knelt on the ground for a few seconds before getting, "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"well, maybe this will," t-dog paused for a second, "look, i chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him... with a padlock."

"it's gotta count for something." rick spoke to daryl with a calm voice, but y/n knew rick chose the wrong words to say to the pissed off redneck.

daryl rubbed his face in frustration, wiping the tears he felt in his eyes, "t'hell with all y'all! just tell me where he is, so's i can go get him!"

"he'll show you," a woman spoke up, "isn't that right?"

rick processed her words for a few seconds and began nodding, "i'm goin' back."

the woman stepped back into the rv and y/n stared at her in confusion. she seemed upset that the man was going back, but she practically just volunteered him.

daryl walked off, obviously not touched by rick's offer and now that daryl was gone, people in the camp that had noticed y/n turned to her.

"damn, i was just startin' to enjoy myself," y/n muttered to herself, dale's lips cracking a smile of amusement at her words.

[turtletaubwrites]

So What?

Thank you so much @shewrites02 for this Zosan request! It cracked me up, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Zoro x Sanji

Word Count: 1096

Ao3 Link

Summary: An enemy catches Zoro eying Sanji in the middle of a fight. Zoro doesn't care, until they make the mistake of threatening the cook.

Rating/Warnings: SFW, Some Passionate Kissing, Fluff, Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence, (hardly any), Humor, They both get teased a bunch for their relationship, Established Relationship, (implied/kind of?), Protective Zoro, Nami and Usopp are little shits 😅

A/N: I giggled so much writing this. I love our lil Straw Hats so much

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Hey Curly, I’ve got this ugly guy. You go after that one that ran away.”

Zoro kept the enemy pirate in his peripheral vision, his swords ready for any movement. 

Still, he looked toward the blonde cook, whose fiery kick had just taken another opponent down.

“I don’t take orders from you, dumbass marimo,” Sanji spat, anger riding his voice.

But he turned on his heel, walking toward the escaping enemy as he took a long drag off his cigarette. 

Zoro’s lip twitched in a smile as he watched him walk away.

“I’m over here asshole,” his enemy fumed, waving his arms. “I can’t believe the notorious pirate hunter gets distracted by a man’s ass in the middle of a fight. Pathetic.”

Zoro gripped his swords, adjusting his stance as he gave the shitty pirate his full attention. 

The guy didn’t shut up when he should have. 

“Who knew this would be so easy,” the man taunted, holding his sword in position. “I get to kill the infamous Roronoa Zoro because he was too busy daydreaming about a little pretty boy. Ha! This’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, I fuck the cook. So what? I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

A loud cough behind him pricked his ears, but he knew his only threat was in front of him. 

“Fine then,” the pirate sighed before tilting his head with a taunt. “That just means I’ll kill you, then I get to gut your little boy toy.”

“The fuck did you just say,” Zoro growled, low and dangerous.

“I said I’m gonna kill your little blonde twink after I’m done with y–”

The pirate flew through the air, the force of Zoro’s hit knocking him back until he slammed into a tree. He didn’t seem conscious, but Zoro stood above him as he sheathed his swords.

“Nobody touches that perv cook but me.”

~

“So Sanji, I heard you’re Zoro’s little boy toy,” Nami teased, with Usopp nodding along as he egged her on. 

Sanji had a coughing fit, shattering a handful of plates as he carried them to the sink.

Zoro hummed softly, shaking his head as he took a swig of his drink.

When Sanji could breathe again, his red face turned to Nami, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and tiny smirk playing on Zoro’s lips. 

“I’m sorry, Nami, dear. What did you say?”

“Oh, just something we heard during the fight today. What’s a twink?”

Zoro coughed this time, sputtering as sake went down the wrong way.

“Isn’t that a type of food,” Luffy piped up, looking at the cook’s quivering form. “Sanji, do we have any twinks? I wanna try one.”

Usopp couldn’t hold it in anymore, snorting with laughter until he and Nami were practically rolling in their seats. 

“What's happening,” Sanji managed to choke out, having to lean against the counter as he swayed.

“We just heard— We heard Zoro talking,” Nami’s voice came out high, struggling for air. “You do it, Usopp. Say it.”

She slapped against his chest lightly, and Usopp puffed himself up, taking a minute to calm his laughter, chuckles bubbling up until he bellowed out, imitating Zoro’s voice.

“Nobody touches that perv cook but me.”

Even Luffy chuckled now, although his brows were furrowed, not quite following. 

Until Sanji’s red face grew mottled, and he found his footing again.

“What the fuck kind of shit are you saying about me, you idiot moss head? Keep my name out of your ugly ass mouth!”

“I didn’t say your name, dumbass,” Zoro yelled back, standing up to growl at him while they pressed their foreheads together. 

“I called you a fucking perv cook.”

“Idiot swordsman, you don’t even…”

As their feud barreled on, the galley slowly emptied, Luffy snagging snacks as Usopp dragged him away. 

At this point, the cook and the first mate were just growling, eyes burning into each other. 

There was no way to tell who reached out first, their bodies tangling in a blur. 

Zoro’s strong hands gripped Sanji’s waist, the cook’s hands pulled around Zoro’s shoulders and neck. Their mouths ate at each other with all that heat that had boiled over between them. 

Until Sanji pulled away, eyes still sharp with anger.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Zoro groaned, moving to lean against the table as he found his sake again. He sighed as he met Sanji’s eyes, heavy with annoyance.

“The ugly guy from earlier,” he started, Sanji crossing his arms as he waited. “He made fun of me for looking at you.”

Sanji’s eyes squinted, his chin bobbing forward, but Zoro didn’t elaborate.

“So what? Someone hurt your feelings, so you went and told the whole crew that I’m your fucking twink?”

Zoro sputtered again, wiping the sake from his chin. His laughs fizzled under Sanji’s stare. 

The cook’s skin was still flushed, and Zoro wanted to press his lips against those burning cheeks. 

“I didn’t say that shit, curly, okay? He did.”

Sanji let out a heavy breath, looking at the ceiling before frowning back down at the swordsman. 

Why does he always have to look like that when I’m mad at him, Sanji thought, fighting to keeps his eyes on Zoro’s face instead of his exposed chest.

“So why didn’t you disagree? I thought we weren’t telling the rest of the crew.”

Sanji’s voice had raised again, just a bit, as he gestured toward the door. 

“He threatened you, okay?”

The anger in Zoro’s voice now was different from the kind he shared with the cook. His jaw clenched, and Sanji saw the veins in his forearms pulsing as he dug fingers into his knees.

Sanji’s frown dropped, leaving him with his mouth hanging open. 

With another swig of his drink, Zoro stood in front of the silent cook, poking him gently on the chest.

“Plus, I don’t think I give a shit. So what if they know? It’s too late now, anyway.”

After a moment more of staring, Sanji sighed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. 

“You stupid moss head. Can’t be left alone for ten minutes without fucking something up, can you?”

“Shut up,” Zoro growled, reaching for Sanji’s hips again. “Don’t leave me alone then, you shitty cook.”

Sanji groaned at the insult, wanting to keep the argument going. 

But they melted into each other, breaths calmer now as they kissed away all their words. 

Almost all their words. 

“I’m not a twink,” Sanji grumbled while Zoro kissed along his neck. 

Zoro’s snort was all it took for their battle to begin again. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: They are so silly 😅

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[acapelladitty]

Monomania (fic)

Pairing - Homelander/Hughie (The Boys)

Summary - In the midst of a messy fight, Homelander comes to a somewhat stunning conclusion involving Hughie.

Link to Part 2 & Part 3

It was incredible, unthinkable even, that Homelander had found himself in this situation.

Hugh Campbell. Hughie. Starlight's little pet human. The gangly asshole who nipped at William's heels as William actively sought out as many different pain in the ass ways of inconveniencing his life as possible.

Hugh Campbell.

A pathetic human.

But a pathetic human who was currently trading hits with him due to the compound v which flowed through his veins to give him access to the sort of power that he probably used to jack off thinking about.

"Little Hughie." Homelander spat, dodging a messy right hook. Hughie had strength, yeah, but it was clear that neither man was a particularly trained fighter even if Homelander still held the advantage. "A fucking waste of skin compared to the people he surrounds himself with. One day that little girlfriend of yours is going to find herself a real man.”

Ducking under another swing, Homelander landed a strike of his own and his fist bounced off Hughie’s chest with a pained grunt.

“Supes and humans? A mess. Trust me. I've made enough of them." Homelander continued, refusing to allow his growing exertion to show on his features as he pushed Hughie off him – his heart thumping in his chest as his jaw throbbed in discomfort.

Hughie snarled his anger, his boyish features twisted into something almost inhumane as he threw fists with an obvious lack of thought. In the heat of the fight, Homelander could hear how laboured Hughie’s breathing had grown; how erratic and fucked up it was as his blood rushed through his veins and his pulse jumped with every strike. The stench of adrenaline, hot and heady, also hung in the air and the sheer potency of it was intoxicating.

Almost absent-mindedly, Homelander adjusted the crotch of his suit as he flew to the side to narrowly avoid a kick. Adrenaline and anger. Two familiar feelings which sat low in his belly and made his cock twitch despite his fury. He was the fucking Homelander and fighting like this-

His thoughts were knocked clean out of his head as a sharp fist caught him on the temple - sending his body stumbling backwards as the sheer indignation of being caught out burned within his chest like a serpent’s venom.

It only lasted a moment as Hughie's furious expression was quick to fill his sight. Panting and red-faced with the effort, Hughie looked down at him with such intense contempt that it actually made Homelander pause as long fingers wrapped around his throat and started to squeeze.

Even with the compound v, its potency already feeling like it was beginning to fade as Hughie’s movements grew more sluggish, it would be a hard task to choke him out and Homelander took a moment to look - really look - at the man attempting to kill him.

Hughie was handsome in a basic sort of way. He lacked the bulk and muscle of William but he certainly wasn't as scrawny and pathetic as he seemed to be on first glance. In his rage and erratic movements, a few curls of his brown hair had fallen over his forehead and remained plastered there by sweat.

Tall as fuck too.

It wasn’t often Homelander fund himself having to tilt his head to meet someone's gaze and what a gaze it was.

Hatred.

Pure hatred oozed from every millimetre of Hughie's eyes as the blue there appeared to grow steelier by the second and the utter intensity of his gaze, malicious as hell, made heat pool in Homelander's stomach as he drank in the undivided attention.

Atop him, Hughie’s body was an inferno of heat; a mixture of exertion and the compound which was burning through his unfamiliar cells like a supernova. Caged as he was against the wall, the pressure of Hughie's body pushing against his own was surprisingly erotic as the adrenaline and the attention and the flex of the hands around his sensitive neck caused his cock to grow harder between his legs.

With Hughie's hands still around his neck, Homelander easily jerked his head forward in one swift movement and caught Hughie's lips in his own, his actions not fully coming to terms with his thoughts until Hughie recoiled his head in disgust.

The first thing that registered in his head, aside from a burning shame, was a dull pain as Hughie's fist once again connected with his temple. The second was the warmth of lips against his own as Hughie followed the blow by pressing his face in close enough to allow Homelander to capture his mouth once again. Hughie’s lips were soft, nothing like his hard eyes, and Homelander snapped his teeth down on his lower lip, something victorious growling in his chest as he immediately tasted blood and Hughie pulled away with a throaty grunt of pain.

"You're a fucking monster." Hughie hissed.

The fury, that wickedly intoxicating fury, still radiated from his eyes but something predatory - something familiar - lurked in the shadows behind it and the hint of it send a coil of arousal through Homelander’s groin.

Little Hughie had a dark side it seemed, and in that instant Homelander decided that he was going to make it his new project to push the other man as far as he could to see how deep the darkness ran.

Shoving Hughie off him as though discarding a blanket, Homelander readied himself for another fight as he watched Hughie scramble to his feet – confusion and rage now at war on his handsome features as he attempted, vainly, to settle his breath. His eyes dropped for only a second to the undeniable bulge which tented at Homelander’s groin, evidence of his shameful desire, before snapping back up as a snarl overtook his mouth once again.

With the fresh seeds of obsession sewing their way into the landscape of his fragile mind, Homelander tensed himself up for barrle once more as a familiar smirk settled across his lips.

Little Hughie.

[hirsheyskisses]

I don't usually send in requests so it feels a bit weird to do so but can I ask for Killer with a s/o that's had a bad day or kinda stressed out and done with everything (cus gosh people are annoying) that's all, thank you.

Kill the Negativity!

KILLER x READER

Summary: you've had a fucked up day, the locals of an island driving you to your wits end, with no help from the Captain. So you seek out Killer.

a/n: killer has nice hands. Anyways this is cute! Hope you enjoy :D

"Fuckin assholes." You curse, kicking at nothing in particular as you made your way to the deck of the ship. As far as you were aware, the rest of the crew was still off on the island getting drunk. Much to your dismay, your Captain and the others had actually gotten wasted, along with the locals. You'd already been growing weary of how on your ass the red head had been, bit him finally verbally sprinkling the remarks of you not doing enough, and being the weak link, had been enough to drive you over the edge. The local drunkards had joined in, and you slipped off into the night to watch the ship.

You were used to it. You knew Kid was a pain, and you still cared for the man, but that didn't make you want to drive a stake through his heart any less at the moment.

"Be careful." The voice came from right behind you, and you spun around, fist raised and knife being drawn. However, you relaxed as you recognized the large figure before you: the masked man who innocently had his hands raised in surrender. Sighing, you sheathed your blade. "Sorry. Bit distracted."

"I noticed. It's not like you to let people come up behind you." He replied, moving a bit closer. "Surprised you aren't with Kid- now that I think about it, ya weren't at the bar." You began to move to the kitchen and Killer followed. "Didn't feel like it. Judging from your current mood, I'd assume it wasn't that fun."

You opened your mouth, about to ramble about what had happened, then chose better of it. Kid was still your captain, and bad mouthing him wasnt-

"-whatd Kidd do to get under your skin so much?"

"I'm starring to think you're a mind reader." Killer's shoulders shook a bit and he shrugged, "If I was, I wouldn't have to ask what's wrong. But anyone can see Kidd's had it out for you recently."

"Don't worry about it." You entered the kitchen with Killer hot on your tail, shutting the door behind you both. You walked to the sink and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. When you turned, you were met with strong arms caging you in, Killer towering over you.

Taking a slow sip from your drink you stared up at your lover expectantly.

"..forget about the fact he's our Captain, and tell me what he did." Killer whispered, watching as you took another drink and sighed.

"The usual drunken antics. He started screeching about how useless and in the way I am, and then the local assholes joined in. Simple and annoying as that."

Killer tensed, and you heard the softest of growls before he sighed, "I'll deal with Kid in the morning. For now.." with ease, Killer had you in his arms, one arm wrapped under your thighs so you sat, the other wrapped around your back as he left the kitchen with you. You laughed, having set your half finished glass down and wrapped your arms around his neck, and before you knew it, he had you both in your shared room.

"Chu up to, Killer?" You questioned, sliding from his hold as he set you on the bed, and locked the door. You watched as hesitated, and then began to fidget with his mask, pulling it off.

Then, you saw his beautiful face, golden hair atop his head flattened and bangs covering his ocean deep eyes.

"Mmm, there's a pretty boy." You whispered, watching Killer's face flush as he moved closer, then sat himself besides you.

"Shush and.. relax. You're so tense." You hadn't even realized how stiff you'd been until killer pointed it out. Yet again he picked you up and postponed you in-between his legs. You often admired how easily he could just- move you. Like you weighed nothing. But then again, it was Killer- nothing was too heavy for him.

His hands made their way to your shoulders. "Killer.." you mumbled, feeling his hands beginning to work, massaging your muscles. You bit your tongue, but heavens above, it felt good. The smallest of shameful noises left you and you quickly squeaked out, sorry!

Killer only smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. "Relax. The point of this is for you to feel good. It won't get sexual." Oh, how contradicting those words could be in any other scenario. But you trusted him. Even if you still didn't plan on making more. Every so often, Killer would work a spot that had you gasping, and he'd lean back in, lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. "Doing so good." He'd whisper, hands moving to your sides, working his fingers there.

"Don't deserve to deal with those assholes." Killer would mumble, "you're one of the strongest and most talented on the crew." "Kid knows it, he needs to express it."

His constant validation, and soft voice, had you melting in his touch. "Killer.. you're too good to me."

You leaned against his chest, staring up at your boyfriend. He met your gaze with a soft, love struck one, and smiled, "no.. you're too good for us. For me."

Killer rolled you so you laid on the bed, him towering over you, before he leaned back so he partially rested on your legs, glancing around before moving to his side, pulling you into his chest.

"It's been a while since we could really cuddle." You murmured, snuggling a bit closer. Killer nodded. "...figured you'd need it. Seriously.. I'll deal with Kid." The blonde promised, rubbing your back, and you angled your head up. "S okay. It's just how.. he is. Doesn't make me hate him any less, but.. well, I'll get over it."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't need to get over it. Kid needs a wake up call every once in a while." You nodded in agreement, "I spose so. But don't terrify him this time.. last time you scolded him he looked like he wanted to murder himself." Killer almost snorted, remembering the confused and enraged look Kid had on his face. "I make no promises."

Leaning down, he caught your lips in a kiss, gently moving closer. His movements were gentle, holding you as if you would break under any touch, lips dancing together. Your hands tangled in his hair and held him close, his own hand traveling up your side, fingers ghosting over your skin before coming to rest at your lower chest, holding you down. A slight gasp escaped you, and just for an instant, Killer had slipped his tongue in, gently prying to your tongue, before breaking away, panting softly.

"..we should sleep." You whispered, amusement in your voice to see how flustered Killer had grown, and he nodded slowly.

"Yeah.. as long as you feel a bit better.." He whispered.

"As long as you're happy."

[naughtyneganjdm]

Lost & Found

Summary: After escaping New York, Negan finds himself desperate for a place to rest when making his journey to Missouri to find his family. In the middle of the woods he finds a young girl that has been left alone to fend for herself.

Characters: Negan, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53376820/chapters/135093157

Warnings: Swearing, Negan Being an Asshole, Angst, etc.

Notes: I was originally going to make this a one shot, but it turned out to be way too long for a one shot, so it's just going to be a two part story. This is different than what I usually do, so just a pre-warning. Part two is already done so I will probably post it in like a day or two. (Y/N doesn't show up until chapter 2)

It had been a grueling few days with little to no food or water. After Negan finally escaped from New York, he started his journey to Missouri in hopes of finding Annie and Joshua. On the way he had been followed by a group of those from New York that had worked for The Dama before he had done what he had. Most of his supplies had been destroyed after the fight leaving him with little to nothing after he was able to kill them. In the fight he had also been wounded, but he was able to keep himself together enough to continue his journey.

The sun was starting to go down which left Negan in a vulnerable situation. He had lost his matches and he had nothing to keep him safe. Who knew if there were going to be more from New York coming after him. All he knew is that he needed to find some shelter for the night so in the morning he would be able to go looking for supplies.

Heading deeper into the woods, it took a while until he found what looked like an old cabin. There was a weathered fence that was put up around it that he assumed someone had put up half assed in order to keep out the walkers. Walking around the land, he could see that there was a well on the property and he let out an excited breath hoping that there would be drinkable water. There was a door in the gate, but it was locked. It had a metal chain wrapped around the door with a lock on it that was on the other side. It was strange that it was locked from the inside, but regardless he knew this would be the place he would have to catch his breath for the night. Finding an acceptable area in the gate, Negan was able to make his way over only having trouble at the top where there was barbed wire. On his way over, he got his jacket caught on it and found amusement in the fact barbed wire almost got him. Dropping down onto the ground, he took a minute to gather himself. That drop actually knocked the wind out of him. You could call it age, exhaustion or just the overall strain of getting his ass kicked earlier. Call it what you wanted. Maybe it was a little bit of all of those reasons.

The cabin appeared to be in a pretty good condition and he felt like he lucked out. An empty cabin in the middle of the woods was the perfect place for him to rest for the night. Moving up the stairs to the front door, he attempted to open it easily, but it didn’t budge. Trying to put some pressure on the door had it barely moving and he let out a grunt. The front door was blocked off. There had to be an easier way to get into the cabin without hurting his shoulder trying to knock down whatever was blocking the door on the inside. Stepping back, he looked the cabin over and let out a tense breath. There were no lights on in the cabin and when he listened, there was no noise coming from it either. It had to be empty.

Observing the cabin, he noticed that there was a broken window on the second level. Carefully, he did his best to crawl up the side of the cabin using some of the broken-down pieces of the cabin to make his way up. Toward the top he almost slipped but quickly caught himself enough to make it to the window. Once he was up there, he used his strength to crawl into the window and made sure that he wasn’t being followed.

“Hello?” Negan spoke up, hoping that if there were walkers that had passed living in the cabin it would draw them to him. At least he still had a weapon and he would be able to take them down. Clapping his hands together, he tried to make enough noise that would draw a walker, but when nothing came, he finally made his way out of the room.

Scoping out the second level, Negan noticed that there were several rooms that had beds and thanked God for that. In New York he had a nice room, but he was someone else’s puppet. Since he left, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep and it would be nice to finally sleep in a bed tonight. It was strange though because things were still in a decent condition. Someone had to have been living here recently, but who? It was visibly empty from the lack of response.

Carefully making his way down the stairs, Negan was sure to check every room to confirm that the cabin was empty. There seemed to be supplies in the house. Weapons, books, toys, a little bit of everything. Maybe there was a walker in here that had found the same window that he did and made their way out. That still didn’t explain how they were able to get out through the gate that surrounded the place. The set up just wasn’t making much sense.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, Negan opened a cabinets to see that there were jars of food filling them. A relieved breath fell from his lungs knowing that he would finally be able to eat. The ache in his stomach grew with his eyes observing over the options that were there. Whoever had left this cabin must have left in a hurry because they had left it fully stocked. A thankful sound escape his lips when his eyes fell upon the jar of peanut butter. Shakily reaching out to grab it, he rest it on the counter and then gazed over the rest of what was there. Noticing the crackers, he swiftly grabbed them and pulled them onto the counter as well. Who knows how incredibly fast he worked the lid from the peanut butter before dipping a cracker eagerly into it. Shoving the peanut butter covered cracker into his mouth came naturally. Groaning out after swallowing it down, he didn’t realize how hungry he had truly grown over the last few days. Continuously he kept eating the combination and maybe he should have been paying attention to how many he was eating, but his body was shaking with anticipation to finally be able to eat again.

A chill ran down his spine when he heard the sound of a floorboard squeaking. Turning on his heel, he let out an uncomfortable breath seeing a young girl standing behind him with a gun pointed directly at him. Grumbling under his breath, Negan rolled his eyes and gradually raised his hands up with the peanut butter jar in one hand and the crackers in the other. It didn’t take much for him to notice that she was scared by the way she was tremoring before him.

“Fuck,” Negan scoffed, the peanut butter making it incredibly hard for him to swallow down his last bite.  

Where the fuck did she come from? He looked everywhere before making his way into the kitchen.

“Please leave,” she pled of Negan, her young voice broken while she held her gun further trying to make herself appear fiercer by pointing the gun directly at his head. By the looks of her, she might have been close to Hershel’s age. Maybe a little younger. By the tone of her voice and the way she was shaking, Negan didn’t find her to be much of a threat and he gradually lowered his hands down at his sides. The lack of fear that came from him only frightened the young girl more. Arching his eyebrow in curiosity had the young girl clutching the gun tighter. “Please.”

“I can’t do that right now. I’ve got nowhere else to go and if I go out there during the night, I’ll die,” Negan explained shaking his head noticing the fear in the girl’s eyes when he made it clear that he wasn’t leaving. “I just need a place to stay for the night and then I’ll leave in the morning. I swear.”

“You can’t do that here, you can’t stay here,” she explained with an anxious sound looking around in a moment of discomfort.

“I’ve got no other options. Some assholes destroyed my supplies and I really don’t have anything,” Negan tried to explain noticing the way that her eyes lowered to his large hunting knife that he had attached to his belt. “Listen, I’m tired. I’m hungry. I haven’t drank anything in a very long time. I just need to get some rest and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Talking her through things seemed to calm her down some, but she still seemed shaken to have a stranger standing in her kitchen.

“Are you alone?” she wondered, nervously gazing back over her shoulders to confirm that Negan was the only one that was there.

“Are you?” Negan’s brow raised in curiosity, his jaw clenching when he went to move, but she held the gun up again. It had him stopping in his tracks and he was trying to genuinely assess the situation between the two of them. He could talk her down, but when he approached her, it only made her scared again and she kept pointing that damn gun at him. “How old are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” she claimed, hovering her finger in over the trigger as if to warn him what she might have been capable of. It had Negan huffing out, his brow line furrowing when she shook her head again. “If you want the peanut butter and the crackers, you can take them. But I need you to leave.”

“And I told you that I can’t leave. Not tonight,” Negan repeated hearing the discomfort in her breathing. By the way the girl was looking around the room, he could tell that she was trying to figure out what to do in this situation. “You’ve never shot someone. Have you?”

“I have,” she insisted with a nod of her head trying to steady the gun that was in her hand. It was dark so he could barely make out her features, but he could tell that she was young. “A few people.”

“Just a few, huh?” Negan set the jar of peanut butter down on the counter along with the crackers. An amused rumble of laughter fell from Negan’s lips when he took a step forward toward her and she took a step back. “I tell you what honey, I don’t believe you.”

“That would be your mistake then,” she warned him, drawing her finger closer to the trigger when Negan stepped in closer to her. “I’m not afraid of shooting you dead mister. So I suggest you leave. Now.”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Negan began taking another bold step forward that had her repeating her earlier motion in stepping away from him. “I think you’re alone here and I think you’ve never shot someone in your life.”

“And what makes you so sure?” she gasped when Negan moved swiftly forward to snatch the gun from her hands, pulling her into his arms with her back against his chest. A worried breath fell from her throat when Negan placed the gun to her temple. “Please…please don’t…”

“If you knew what you were doing,” Negan lowered the gun before her, his left hand still firmly wrapped around her shoulders to show her the gun. Switching off the safety made a sharp exhale fall from her throat, “You wouldn’t have had the safety on the gun. Which tells me you have no clue how to use this thing. Which makes me believe that you weren’t always alone because you would be fucking dead if that was the case.”

Pushing forward, Negan heard the girl hit the ground hard when she scrambled back on the floor toward the corner of the kitchen. Keeping the gun pointed at her, he watched her hold up her hands and keep her head down, “Are you alone?”

Staying quiet, she refused to look at him or even answer him. The lack of response left Negan with a rage burning deep inside of him.

“Are you alone?” Negan screamed at her making her jump and she immediately nodded her head. “Speak when you are spoken to and nothing will happen to you. Do you understand?”

With a nod, he heard the tremoring in her breathing and he huffed, “I said speak when you are spoken to. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes,” she whispered with a bit of venom behind her tone, her jaw clenching when she finally lifted her eyes to his.

“How old are you?” Negan questioned again, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity.

“Thirteen,” she stammered, her bottom lip trembling while she sat before him on the ground. “I’m thirteen.”

“Okay. And why are you alone?” Negan pushed trying to figure things out as to why he had found a girl alone like this in the woods.

“We were running low on some supplies and my mother left to go search for some,” she explained cautiously lowering her hands when she braced herself on the floor. By the emotion he heard in her tone, he knew that she was telling him the truth. “That was a few weeks ago.”

“Did she teach you nothing?” Negan wondered, his head tipping from side to side. “How to defend yourself?”

“My mom was worried I would shoot something off if she taught me,” she answered nervously while Negan let out a tense laugh. “She gave me a quick course with the shotgun, but this was the only gun that I had on me when you came into the house.”

“Where were you when I was walking around?” Negan demanded an answer. Noticing that she wasn’t telling him, he raised his gun up higher and she lowered her head down again. He had no plans of hurting a child, especially one alone and vulnerable like this one, but she didn’t know that. “Where?”

“There is a trap door in the living room,” she was quick to give away her hiding spot and Negan lowered the gun a bit. “My mom told me to stay in the house. She said when the sun went down that I need to turn off the lights so it wouldn’t attract anyone. She said that if someone came into the house that wasn’t her that I needed to hide.”

“And how did you know I wasn’t your mom?” Negan inquired hearing her scoff under her breath and he stepped forward. “I asked you a question!”

“Because I have the key to the gate. When she came back, she was supposed to whistle a certain way and I would know it was her,” the young girl replied with a long sigh seemingly embarrassed that she got herself in this situation. “She was only supposed to be gone a few days.”

“Did she tell you to come out like this?” Negan muttered and he could tell by the way that she lowered her head that she wasn’t supposed to. “So your mother told you to stay hidden, but you decided to come out here and do this? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“I didn’t want you to steal the food,” she defended herself, pointing back to the cabinets that were behind Negan. “With mom gone, I’ve been doing my best to preserve everything.”  

“What’s your name?” Negan asked, lowering the gun further noticing the way that her eyes were slowly becoming comfortable enough to meet his stare.  

“Mia,” she spoke quietly and he waved his free hand about before lowering the gun at his side.

“Mia. That’s a good name,” Negan responded with a shake of his head, reaching for another cracker from the counter. “My name is Negan,” he informed her plopping the cracker between his lips and letting out a long sigh. “I hate to tell you this Mia, but I think your mom is dead. And she did you a disservice in not teaching you shit.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” she snapped at Negan, anger flooding her tone when Negan shrugged his shoulders. Maybe it was wrong to be so blunt, but it was best for the girl to know that now instead of continuing to expect to have her mother returning home. “My mom is strong. She wouldn’t just…”

“Strong people die in this world Mia. I’ve seen it happen a lot in my life,” Negan declared, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. In the small amount of light he could see that her eyes were tearing over at the mere suggestion that her mother was dead. “You know that I’m right Mia. If your mom was supposed to be back in a few days and it’s been a few weeks, she’s probably dead. There is no other reason for her to leave you here this long.”

A broken sound fell from the girl’s throat when Negan whistled and waved his finger about in the air, “Where is your dad?”

“I never met my dad,” she replied, wrapping her arms around her knees to pull them in closer to her chest. “My dad was killed when my mother was pregnant with me. A group raided our community and they took him. He was the leader and they killed him to make a point. They killed most of our community.”

“See what I mean,” Negan retorted, wiggling the hand that had the gun in it up in the air and she uneasily shifted with him pointing the gun in her direction. “Shit, sorry”

Turning the safety back on, Negan showed her the gun and then set it down on the counter noticing her confused expression, “Strong people die in this world Mia. Just like your dad. It sounds like he was a strong man and look what happened to him. I’ve seen it happen to a lot of strong men and women in this world.”

“You’ve probably been around long enough to see empires fall,” she snarked at Negan causing him to immediately burst out in laughter hearing the smart remark she threw his way. The expression over her face showed that she didn’t understand his response.

“That shit was actually funny,” Negan complimented her, grabbing the peanut butter and the crackers again. Sliding down onto the floor with her, Negan sat across from her and dug a cracker into the peanut butter again. “I thought you were this shy, weak little thing and you’re a fucking smart ass. I like that.”

“What do you want Negan?” she wondered, uncomfortable with the way he was sitting across from her.

“I tell you what Mia,” Negan began, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “You let me stay here a night and I’ll teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“No thanks,” she immediately responded drawing the lines in Negan’s forehead to grow deeper. “I’ll be fine without you.”

“I don’t think you will,” Negan countered, his eyebrows bouncing up with her quick snap back. “Most people aren’t like me. You’re lucky it was me that found this place and not someone else. You are gonna need someone to help teach you the things that your mama never did.”

“I’ll survive. I’ve gone this long without your help, I can keep doing it,” she declared causing Negan to roll his eyes and shift his legs on the ground to stretch them out.

“What are you gonna do when you run out of supplies?” Negan almost mocked her, setting the crackers down and sliding them out closer to her. There was tension in her body when Negan held out the peanut butter. “What are you going to do when your mother doesn’t come back?”

“She will,” she leaned forward and, in that moment, he could finally see the hazel coloring of her angered eyes in the small amount of light that was filtering into the room. It made a breath hitch in his throat getting his first decent look at her.

“Say I’m right and she doesn’t. How are you going to take care of yourself kiddo?” Negan brushed off the awkward sensation it caused him and he held the peanut butter further out toward her. Finally, she took the jar of peanut butter and it made him smile when she grabbed a cracker and took one for herself. “You can’t live on peanut butter and crackers. If you were low on supplies before, you are likely even lower now. So, go on kid, tell me how you are going to survive.”

“I just will,” she suggested, swallowing down hard making Negan laugh and roll his eyes. “You don’t have to be an asshole, Negan.”

“You’re being stupid Mia,” Negan stressed, pointing his hand up toward the gun that she had pulled on him earlier. “Put your guard down and realize the shit I’m offering is good for you. I’ll show you how to use all the weapons you have here. I can take you out tomorrow and show you how to hunt. And I’ll help you hide yourself better. We need to get some shit to hide this place and the fence. You’re out in the open for any group to find. If my old ass was able to climb up that fence unscathed, then someone else can too.”

“Unscathed?” she arched her brow, a scoff falling from her throat. “You look like shit.”

“Oh?” Negan noticed her pointing up toward his face and then toward the middle where he was obviously bleeding from the fight he had gotten in earlier. “That’s from something else.”

“Is it?” she breathed out, her throat tensing up. “Are you a good man Negan?”

“Is anyone good anymore?” Negan answered, lowering his hand to press his fingers in over his ribs from where he had been slashed by a combat knife earlier. Feeling blood beneath his fingertips, he let out a tense breath and shook his head. “You have my word that I won’t hurt you. I’ll just stay the day and when the next morning comes, I will leave.”

“What are you hiding from?” she questioned him now and it made Negan laugh. “I think I deserve to know.”

“What aren’t I hiding from? You can have your choice. Raiders. Walkers. Shitty people,” Negan rambled off noticing the way that her nose wrinkled. Hearing him say those things had confused her in some way and he wondered how long she had been locked up in here. “You really are oblivious to the world, aren’t you? How long has your mother had you locked away? Please tell me you know about the fucking walkers,” Negan begged hearing her sigh and he threw his hands up. “Biters. Flesh eaters. What the fuck ever you call them.”

“Of course I know about them,” she waved her hand about in the air and it made Negan sneer, shaking his head. “I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. I’m allowed to work the well, but I’m not allowed to stay outside for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”

“And how long has that been going on?” Negan interrogated her and she simply shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve been in this cabin that long? It’s a surprise the two of you weren’t killed yet leaving yourselves out in the open like this.”

“I told you, my mom is strong,” she restated to Negan who let out a dramatic breath and nodded his head about. “She is. My dad taught her to fight when they were together. My dad was a really good fighter. The strongest in our community. That’s why the group opposing ours killed him. They knew if they didn’t that my dad would destroy them.”

“Your dad obviously wasn’t as good as you think he was because he still got caught and killed,” Negan retorted and he could see the way that her features seemed less aggressive. Frowning, Negan threw his hands up in the air and shrugged his shoulders. “You fight pretty hard for a man you never knew.”

“Because my dad was a hero,” she argued and he shook his head slowly doubting that there were heroes anymore in this world. “My dad saved my mother when she was alone. She was about to be killed and he stepped in. He saved her.”

“That doesn’t make your dad a hero kiddo. Your dad was just probably horny and saw a woman that he thought was pretty. It was slim pickings back then,” Negan grumbled under his breath and a disgusted sound followed. “Your parents got intimate in order to create you kid. Or let me guess, your mother didn’t tell you about the birds and the bees. All that shit.”

“Yes, I know about sex, but no kid wants to think about their parents…doing…that,” she released another disgusted breath, shaking her head when she thought about what he was saying. “My dad was a good person. He fought for his people. He died protecting me and my mother. He knew that she was pregnant with me and he did everything he could to keep us safe.”

“Yet you’re alone in this cabin all by yourself,” Negan reasoned with her, his dimples becoming more prominent when she slid the jar of peanut butter back to him. “It sounds like your mother fed you a story to me. A rather unbelievable one at that. You’re what? Thirteen? Heroes didn’t exist back then. It was just people hoping to survive.”

“Why would she lie to me about him?” Mia didn’t seem to understand what Negan was hinting at and he huffed.

“To give you something good to think about?” Negan suggested while she considered his comments. “For all you know, your father was a one-night stand that she had. Two people running into one another. You could be an accident for all you know. Maybe your father was a shitty person and your mother wanted to hide that from you.”

“No, my mother isn’t good at lying,” she bickered, her young features becoming upset when he tried to suggest her father wasn’t everything that she was led to believe. “I can see it in the way that she talks about him. She really loved him. And he must have loved her and me for her to be that in love with him. The way she talks about him, she gets really emotional about it. He meant a lot to her. And she swears he did everything to protect us.”

“And yet he got himself killed,” Negan brought back the other part of the story she had told him. “If I had someone pregnant with a child on the way, I would have done whatever I could to be with them. Not risk their lives leaving them alone. He swore to protect both of you, but he left you alone to fend for yourselves.”

Once he saw the expression in her eyes change, he actually felt kind of guilty for unloading onto this kid, “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I guess he did fail.”

“Damn kid. Not completely,” Negan noted noticing that she was starting to think negatively about her family. “You’re still here, right? And your mom was around for a long time too. So whatever he did, he did something right. Even if he died, he kept the two of you here,” Negan felt like he was going back and forth with his own argument right now, but he was going to use it to his advantage. “So why don’t you honor your father and let me teach you how to continue to take care of yourself. That way you don’t die and waste everything he did to make sure you made it in this world.”

Thinking things over, she considered what Negan was saying before nodding her head, “Fine.”

“Smart decision,” Negan muttered having a hard time pulling himself up from the ground, letting out a half laugh at the pain he was feeling in his back. Lifting his head, he could tell that she didn’t know what to do seeing him having a hard time getting up. By the time he finally did get up, he raised his hand out to her. Observing the gesture, she almost considered not taking it, but after a while she finally accepted it. Staring up at him with her big eyes, she didn’t know how to go forward with things. “I’m gonna teach you your first lesson.”

Returning the gun to her, he could sense that she was uncomfortable and he shook his head. When she finally grabbed the gun, he motioned her to hold it right, “Now take the safety off.”

Listening to what he was telling, he urged her to point the gun at him and he shook his head, “No matter how scared you are, don’t take the gun off someone when you think you are in danger. You keep the gun pointed directly at the center of their head. You talk confident. You don’t break eye contact and you don’t shake. That way they know you are serious. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she assured him and when he let go of her hand, he could see that she was still shaking.

“You aren’t going to make it in this world if you don’t assert yourself kid,” Negan warned her pointing toward her arms. After a minute of closing her eyes and taking in a long breath, she finally gathered herself. “Good job. Now you can make a choice.”

“What do you mean?” she was confused when Negan shrugged his shoulders.

“You can use that gun, take what I taught you and shoot me,” Negan informed her and he could see that she looked nervous. “Or we can follow through with our deal and you’ll let me help you further. We’ll take the day to teach you everything I can. And then I leave in the morning.”

“I’m not going to shoot you,” she refused, lowering the gun and putting the safety back on. “If you were a bad guy, you would have shot me immediately. We’ll keep our deal. You might think I’m naïve, but I can tell a bad person when I see them.”

Grumbling under his breath, Negan noticed that she waved him out of the kitchen and he snagged the peanut butter with the crackers when he followed her. Sitting down on the ground, she dug through some things before holding up some water, “Peanut butter does a number on your mouth. I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

“Thank you,” Negan accepted the water and moved for the couch that was at the other side of the room, dropping down on top of it to stretch himself out. A pained exhale fell from his throat when he looked down toward his ribs from where he had been injured, but he tried to brush it off. Taking the top off of the water, he drank down the liquid and he could tell that she was staring at him. “What?”

“Why are you alone?” she finally spoke up after taking a minute to gather her thoughts.

“I’m a loner,” Negan shrugged, clinging to the container that she had given him. “That’s just who I am.”

“So you just walk through the woods alone with no supplies?” she put together the details finding trouble coming up with what he was saying. “That sounds like bullshit.”

“I’m going to Missouri,” Negan claimed adjusting his body weight to rest his head back on the arm of the couch. It didn’t hurt telling this kid the truth about things. “My wife and my son are there.”

“You have a wife?” she questioned and it made him laugh. “Is she pretty?”

“Very,” Negan answered with a weak smile, his dimples sinking in when she eyed him over. “I sent her and my son away because they were in danger being near me. Now they are safe, so I can go be with them again.”

“Why were they in danger?” she blurt out, sliding in closer to the couch and the moonlight shined down in over her young features. Staring out at him with her big eyes had him take in a sharp breath when he noticed her dimples becoming more prominent with curiosity. “How long have you been away from them?”

“Too long,” Negan took another extended swig of the water that she had given him, setting it down at his side. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan felt himself staring at Mia for a long period of time before clearing his throat. “Did your mom ever tell you your daddy’s name?”

“No,” she shook her head and he could tell that she didn’t know why he was asking her about her father again. “What I’ve told you, I’ve only learned in the thirteen years of being alive. My mother doesn’t like talking about him because it makes her sad.”

“Huh,” Negan bit at his bottom lip, lifting his fingers up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“Why?” she whispered and he let out a hesitant laugh.

“Because I feel like maybe I was killed or fucked up really bad in the fight that I got in,” Negan stated with an amused laugh trying to shake off the thoughts he was experiencing when he looked at the young girl.

“Uh…why?” she snorted and he lowered his hand to glare out at her.

“Because you look…” Negan began, a shuddering breath falling from his lips. There was something in the way that she looked at him that made Negan question his past. “Forget it.”

“Okay?” she let his answer linger before rocking back and forth. “So why have you been separated from your family this long?”

“I did something bad and the marshals were chasing me,” Negan thought back on his story. “It was getting hard on my wife and I didn’t want them hurt, so I sent them away. They thought I would be following them, but I didn’t. I stayed back. Now that I’m free, I’m making my way back to them.”

“What did you do that was bad?” she asked like a child would and he realized that this was becoming a million questions between them.

“I killed people,” Negan spoke honestly and there was a shift in the way that she was looking at him. At that moment he knew that she was considering if her decision to let him stay there was bad. “I killed five men that hurt my wife. They did some really terrible things to her and left her for dead.”

“Oh. How do you know they are still in Missouri? Your family,” she wondered and he cussed under his breath. “I don’t mean to sound negative, but if it’s been a long time, how do you know that’s where they are?”

“I just have to hope that they are,” Negan reached into his pocket to grab Annie’s bracelet that he still carried with him. Stroking his thumb over the bracelet, he sighed loudly and shook his head. “I don’t know if they are or not. But I have faith that I will find them. Because I can feel it that they are still alive.”

“You feel it?” she repeated his words, her curious eyes on him. Placing his hand in over the center of his chest, he rubbed over it and sighed. “I think I feel the same thing with my mother.”

“Yeah?” Negan muttered, his jaw clenching. Truthfully? With her mom gone this long, he didn’t feel as confident as she obviously did. At this point, he was certain that her mother was dead. “I hope you’re right Mia.”

Things got awkward in that moment. He was talking about having a feeling that his family was still alive. And she said she felt the same way about her mother. It just made it uncomfortable for him. Pushing the bracelet back into his pocket, he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was still staring at him.

“Do you have a picture of your mom?” Negan inquired, locking his stare with hers and she cracked a smile. “What?”

“Sure, let me go pull out my cell phone and I can show you one,” she chuckled and he rolled his eyes at her smart-ass comment. “Where am I going to have a photo of my mom?”

“I don’t know, people find polaroids all the time,” Negan reasoned with her, tossing his hand up in the air.

“What’s that?” her face twisted and Negan suddenly started feeling extremely old. “I’m not fucking with you, I don’t know what that is.”

“I know that,” Negan dropped his head back and he looked up toward the ceiling letting out a tense breath. “Some people actually carry photos around from when they were younger. I was hoping I would get lucky.”

“Get lucky?” she challenged what he said, not quite understanding it. “Why do you care what my mom looks like?”

“Because I’m trying to remember my life about fourteen years ago,” Negan answered her realizing that he was probably just letting his emotions get the best of him looking at this girl.

“What would my mom have to do with what you were doing fourteen years ago?” she pulled her knees back up to wrap her arms around her legs while she stared out at him with wonder in her eyes.

“It’s complicated,” Negan adjusted his positioning on the couch wishing that it was more comfortable than it actually was.

“Were you and your wife married back then?” Mia let another one of her thoughts out again. This time Negan didn’t answer, he just shook his head. “Did you have a wife back then?”

“Kind of,” Negan thought back to The Sanctuary and all the women that he called his wives.

“Kind of?” she repeated his answer and he gave her a glare.

“What’s with the fifty questions?” Negan snarled, surprising her with him getting cranky with her.

“I just…” she went to defend herself, but realized it wasn’t for the best. “Never mind. You’re probably tired. You can take one of the free rooms upstairs.”

“Sounds good,” Negan groaned out, sitting up on the couch. Wincing, he reached for his ribs and wrapped his arm around them. In that moment he felt the room spinning around him and he closed his eyes trying to pull it together. Once he did, he got up from the couch and huffed. “Has it always been you and your mom?”

“There were some others from our old community,” she headed for the stairs and Negan started to follow her, grasping tightly to the banister when he felt sick. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Negan lied, getting up a few steps further. “What happened to them?”

“What happens to everyone?” she looked back over her shoulder to see that Negan had turned pale and he stumbled forward onto the steps. “Negan?”

“I…I don’t think I’m okay,” Negan explained hitting the stairs hard, sliding down them before laying out on the floor at the bottom. His eyes were fogging over and the last thing he saw was Mia stumbling down the stairs moving in over him. And then everything turned black.

----

Groaning out, Negan’s eyes fluttered to a slow open noticing that there was light coming through the windows of the room that he was in. Everything was blurry and he was in agony. Hissing out, Negan lifted his head and once everything started to clear up, he realized he was at the center of the room he was in last night with Mia. Cussing to himself, he pushed at the damp cloth that was over his head. Once he realized what it was, he threw it onto the ground beside him. Rolling over, he gasped when he saw someone at the corner of the room. It took him a minute to realize that it was Mia curled up in the armchair that was there. Eyeing her over, he could see that her dark hair was pulled back into a hairband and she looked exhausted. With the position that she was in, he had no idea how she was even comfortable enough to sleep like that.

Attempting to pull himself up led to him crying out in pain and he noticed that he was on a mattress that was at the center of the room on the floor. Hearing him in pain had Mia’s long eyelashes fluttering to an open and she scrambled to her feet when she realized it was him hurt. Heading over toward the corner of the room she grabbed the water and something else before dropping to her knees beside him.

“Here, take this,” she tried to place something between his parted lips, but he was quick to smack them out of her hand. Shock flooded her young features followed by him grabbing a tight hold of her face. Digging his fingers into her cheeks had her letting out a whimper when he raised up onto his elbow. “Negan?”

“What did you put in the water last night?” Negan demanded an answer seeing her immediately shake her head. Her hazel eyes looked terrified when she reached for the water. There had to be a reason he passed out so swiftly last night like he did. “Why did you drug me?”

“I didn’t,” she insisted pulling the water up to her lips to show that she would drink the water too. It was hard for her to do it with him holding onto her face like he was, but when she dropped the water back down after drinking some, he could see that she was actually scared by his response. “Please…I didn’t drug you. Your wounds were infected. I think you had a fever. You passed out and fell down the stairs. I dragged a mattress down the stairs and I took care of you. Please. Please. Let me show you.”

Releasing her, Negan heard her let out a panicked breath before shakily reaching for the blanket that she covered him with previously. Lifting his head he noticed that he was shirtless with a bandage wrapped around his ribs. Shakily pulling the bandage off, she could see through his heavy eyelids that Negan was looking down at his wounds that he had over his abdomen. It didn’t look good and he let out a groan, dropping his head back against the mattress.  

“I still had some medicine,” she explained moving over toward the corner to dig out the bottle that she had used. Handing it over to him, he looked at the bottle to see what she had given him. “And I was just trying to give you some pain medication. I swear. I didn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan apologized, pinching at the bridge of his nose and setting the bottle onto the ground. His body was still on fire and he imagined that was the fever that she was talking about. “I didn’t think I was hurt that bad after my fight.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, sliding back to press her back up against the couch feeling shaken up that he had grabbed her like that. “I made a deal with you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

There was a fear in her eyes that Negan hadn’t seen before when he lowered his hand from his face to stare out at her. Everything was still a little blurry and he shook his head, “I’m sorry kid. I didn’t mean to get rough with you. I just…panicked.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered rubbing at her face from where he had grabbed her previously. It was still red and Negan felt guilty knowing that she was innocent. “I know what it’s like to be scared, but I wouldn’t do anything to keep you from getting back to your family Negan. I promise.”

“I believe you,” Negan grimaced, looking down at his ribs to see that his wound there looked terrible. Tipping his head back again, he noticed that her stare was locked on her feet and she actually looked really upset. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she blew off his worries, avoiding eye contact with him.

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Negan repeated, shakily reaching out to place his hand in over her knee to get her attention. Doing that actually hurt him, but he could tell that she trusted him and for him to do what he did had really upset her in that moment. Finally getting her to look at him made a breath fall from his throat at the innocence in her eyes. “I didn’t understand why I passed out like I did last night. Some people use children to get someone’s guard down and unfortunately, I’ve heard about it in the past.”

“It’s just me here Negan,” she looked to his hand, giving him a small nod when he pulled his hand away. “But I understand.”

“I know I promised to teach you things today,” Negan’s fingers outstretched over his injured abdomen and he dropped his head back with a pained sound. “I have no idea what time it even is.”

“It’s evening. You’ve been out all day,” she informed him, sliding forward to reach for the pills that he had smacked out of her hands previously. “You might want to take these and then I can get you another shot of the medicine. It should help.”

“Fuck,” Negan accepted the pills, swallowing them down with the water before grunting out loudly. Throwing his hands in over his face, he heard her moving around.

“I need you to roll onto your side,” she instructed him hearing the huff that he gave out before doing as she told him. “I’m going to inject this into your hip because I’d feel kind of weird injecting this in your ass cheek.”

“Whatever you say kid,” Negan felt her tugging at his pants to get his hip exposed. The bed dipped beside him and he winced when he felt the pain that she caused when she inserted the needle. “Jesus! Be careful with that fucking thing!”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before other than when you were passed out,” she apologized, finishing the injection. After moving around behind him, he felt her placing something over his hip where she gave him the injection. Lifting his head up, his eyes fell upon the band aid that was decorated with a cartoon character and he smirked. Shaking his head, he fixed his pants and laid at the center of the bed again. “I need to clean your wounds and bandage your ribs again to keep it from getting infected.”

“You shouldn’t have wasted your medicine on me,” Negan explained feeling her delicately moving in beside him. Watching her closely, he saw her pour something out onto a cloth before placing it over his wounds to dab at them. Wincing out had her jumping, but he fought to keep it together since he knew she was already on edge from what he had done earlier. “Your mother should have taught you better than that. Using your supplies on a stranger means there is less for you.”

“She did,” Mia corrected Negan, a lump developing in her throat when she heard Negan laugh after she dragged her fingers across a certain area. Giving him an odd expression, she shook her head. “The hell was that?”

“I’m ticklish,” Negan was honest causing her to roll her eyes. “If your mother taught you not to waste supplies, then why are you doing it?”

“Because you promised to help me,” she responded with a loud exhale, shakily finishing up with the job that she was doing on Negan’s ribs getting them bandaged again. Once she was done, she pulled the blanket back up over Negan’s body and he didn’t fight her on it. Outstretching over him, she grabbed the cloth he had thrown off and moved around the room to get his wet again, ringing it out just enough. Returning to him, she lowered the material over his head in attempts to bring down his fever with his eyes hooked on her. “And you have a family that is waiting on you. Somewhere your son is waiting for you like I’m waiting for my mom.”

“Yeah,” Negan felt his chest ache when she dropped down to sit on the ground beside the mattress that he was on. “Thank you. I probably would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

“It was the right thing to do,” she whispered and Negan noticed that she was rubbing at her face again where he grabbed her.

Gazing over her, Negan felt a lump developing in his throat staring out at her. From her green-brown hazel eyes to her coloring, the dimples and even the color of her hair it had Negan deep in consideration with the way that she looked.

“Is your mother’s name Sherry?” Negan thought about the affair that he had with Dwight’s wife before they arrived at The Sanctuary all those years ago.

“No?” Mia raised her eyes again and Negan grunted. “What is it with you and my mother?”

“I just thought you might want to talk about her,” Negan lied hating that he was even considering the fact that this girl next to him may have been his daughter. It was stupid to think that it was Sherry that was her mother considering she would have been older than thirteen and he would have known about the baby if it was. Goddamn, he was pissed that he was having such a hard time remembering things from back then.

“How about we talk about your son,” she suggested and it made a warmth flood into his face. “How old is he?”  

“He’s a few years old,” Negan answered drawing his arm up over his eyes again to hide the light since it was aiding to his headache. “His name is Joshua. Super cute. Big dimples. Has my eyes. A mix of his mother’s skin tone and mine. Dark, curly hair.”

“Sounds cute,” Mia stated with a half-smile sitting by the edge of the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. “He probably gets away with everything.”

“What do you mean?” Negan lifted his head seeing her giving him a big cheesy smile that made him snort, but it drew attention to her dimples as well.

“My mom always told me it was my dimples that let me get away with everything,” she explained hearing Negan’s laughter at the face she made when she was showing him her dimples again. Negan’s nose wrinkled in amusement and he snorted.

“You’re a weird kid,” he responded drawing her cheeks to flush over with red in embarrassment. “It’s not a bad thing,” Negan assured her when she dropped her head down to look at her lap. “My mom told me the same thing when I was little too. She said anytime I got in trouble I would just look up at her and smile. She’d forget everything.”

“I guess those of us with dimples use them the best way we know how,” she suggested and he nodded his head slowly. “Do you miss him?”

“Very much,” Negan swallowed down, getting more relaxed on the bed while he looked up at the ceiling. “He was a cuddler. That’s what I miss the most. He would always crawl into the area between my arm and my chest. Just place his head on my chest,” Negan placed his hand in over the area that Joshua used to lay and he felt his eyes start to tear over. “It was the place he felt the safest, I guess. It was my favorite thing. I’d give anything to have those moments back.”

“It sounds nice,” she whispered with a weak smile, nodding her head slowly. “My mom has always been…” there was a silence that fell between them as she shook her head. “I don’t know. I think she saw things so she’s been very hard since I was little. She always protected me, but I think she was afraid of being loving with me in case…well…in case this happened I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Negan noticed that Mia seemed upset when thinking about her mother. “She still loved you though. You know that.”

“Yeah. As much as she could,” Mia agreed with Negan, nodding her head about when she shifted on the ground beside him. “You sound like you’re a good dad Negan. Joshua is lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Negan admitted, an ache flooding throughout his body when he shook his head. “I abandoned him and his mom. I’ve been gone for a while Mia.”

“You did what you did to keep them safe. I can’t think of a greater sacrifice than that,” she assured him, throwing her hand up in the air to point out at him. “I’m sure if you tell him the truth about things when you find him again, he’ll understand.”

“You have a lot more faith than I do,” Negan confessed, turning on his side away from her to avoid showing her that he was crying thinking about his family.

“You’re the one that was talking about hope,” she reminded him only to have silence on the other end. After a while, she heard him sniffling and she spoke up again trying to change the subject. “I see you have freckles on your shoulders. I have those too. I thought I was weird or something was wrong with me, but I guess I was born with those.”

A chill flooded his veins when she added another thing to the list of things she had in common with him and he just started to wonder if this was some kind of nightmare he was trapped in where his brain was conjuring things up for him.

Negan didn’t respond and she felt uncomfortable just sitting there, “I saw all of your tattoos.”

“Oh yeah? Do you got a tattoo somewhere too?” Negan was sarcastic with her, looking back over his shoulder at her when her hazel eyes got big.

“No, but it would be awesome if I did,” she exclaimed excitedly, throwing her arm up and pointing toward an area. “I would get the word believe written right across here.”

“Believe?” Negan scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. It’s fucking awesome,” she insisted seemingly offended by his response. “It would serve as a reminder. To always believe that things are going to get better.”

“You don’t need a tattoo of that to feel better about yourself,” Negan snorted, his nose wrinkling when she gave him a dramatic expression. “What?”

“Like you have any room to talk Mr. I have blacked out rectangles on my knuckles,” she half laughed noticing the glare that Negan gave her when she pointed out his tattoos to him. “Like those have some special kind of meaning to you.”

“Touché,” Negan rolled his eyes and turned away from her again hearing her humming under her breath.

“I like the happy face tattoo on your middle finger. It’s funny. What do all of your tattoos mean?” she questioned after noticing how many he had. “You have a ton of them. Do you like pirates? Is that why you have the one you do on your chest? Is the dog on your back one of your old pets? Are you very religious since you have a few crosses on your body? What does Bisou mean? I was also wondering where your name came from? I’ve never heard it before. Is it like a family name?”

“Jesus!” Negan snapped, looking over his shoulder at her again noticing the way her eyebrows bounced up. Everything was starting to overwhelm him and he didn’t even know where to start with her since he was already finding himself uncomfortable with this whole thing. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Not really,” Mia simply shrugged her shoulders and gave him a sheepish smirk. “My mom always told me that I talked too much, but I just like learning things. It’s the one thing I think she couldn’t stand the most about me. Said my dad talked too much too, but I figured if you’re going to be here…”

“We’re not friends Mia!” Negan interrupted her sitting up in the bed noticing the way she got pale after he cut her off. There was anger in his tone and she looked upset to see him snap at her. “I’m just a stranger to you. Once I get better, I will take a day to teach you what I promised and then I’m fucking leaving. Do you understand me? We’re not friends. I’m not going to get personal with you. So…just be fucking quiet. I want to rest so I can get better and I can get the hell out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” she frowned, her hazel eyes looking away from him, “I’ve just been alone and…” he could see the sadness flooding into her eyes again before she stood to her feet. “I just haven’t talked to anyone in a really long time and…” she cut herself off thinking about the things that Negan had just said. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry for bothering you Negan. Get some sleep.”

Huffing out, Negan turned onto his back and heard her walking up the stairs toward the second level and he started to feel guilty, “Kiss. It means kiss.”

“What does?” Mia slowly turned on her heel and lowered down to sit on the step she was on.

“Bisou. It means kiss,” Negan educated her letting out a long sigh. “I like skulls. That’s why I have the skull on my chest. The dog is an old dog of mine. And I just like crosses, I’m not religious. I just like the aesthetic of them,” Negan explained the questions that she asked him. “And I don’t know what kind of name Negan is, it’s just what my parents named me.”

“What’s your last name?” she inquired getting a glare from Negan in response. “Last question. I promise. And then I will leave you alone.”

“Smith,” Negan responded, clutching to the pillow that was under his head.

“I was expecting more,” she chuckled, pulling herself up into a standing position. “With a first name like that, you expect something more unique. And it’s interesting you named your son Joshua.”

“It was Annie, my wife’s idea,” Negan informed her, clearing his throat when he thought about his son. “His name means salvation. That was kind of the point. Joshua was my salvation.”

“Oh, wow,” she breathed out noticing the sadness that flooded into Negan’s features again talking about his son. “That’s deep. I don’t know why my mother named me Mia. I just think…she liked the name.”

“Goodnight Mia,” Negan grumbled under his breath turning away from her and cuddling his head in closer to the pillow. More than anything, he just wanted to shut his brain off and rest. The faster he got out of here, the better.

“Goodnight Negan,” she whispered taking a minute to head up the stairs before heading to her bedroom. It left the house silent when Negan closed his eyes. He just had to get better and then he could be back on his way to find his family. All this extra added nonsense was just driving him crazy and he could tell he needed to get away from all of this.