#I have an old family photo from this time period where they pulled both the car and the horse into the photo inexplicably

[dionysiaproductions]

For the record the writing research internet search of "dog carrier antique" was a mistake. Half those things look like iron maidens.

On the other hand, I found this banger of an image:

Why yes, just me driving with my child stored on my lap and my goat in the slapped together 2 by 4 rack right next to us. I'm sure the goat won't try to eat the baby's clothes while I'm busy operating heavy machinery.

[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Love You Like A Love Song - Part Two :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part One

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Pierre Gasly

- Lover - Taylor Swift

The winter break in the F1 yearly calendar was possibly your favourite time of year, any time that you didn't have to miss your boyfriend for days at a time was time you cherished. During the season it was common for you and Pierre to pass each other like ships on the ocean. His early morning starts meant that you were waking up just as he left for the gym and with your days being spent in the studio you wouldn't arrive back to your shared home until long after he had eaten dinner, walked Simba and spent some time on the simulator to prep for that weekends upcoming race.

But winter break meant a few different things, the first being just over two months of freedom between the end of one season in Abu Dhabi and the beginning of testing before Bahrain kicked off the next. The second being that you and Pierre would spend a week visiting both of your families to spend some time with them before the two of you holed yourselves up in Strasbourg for the Christmas period, your apartment there playing host to the most wonderful time of year until New Years called you both down to Monaco for the annual celebration with your friends.

But tonight was more important than thoughts of the upcoming season, Christmas Eve was here and after you both got back from touring the Christmas market with Simba, the front door was locked and the curtains mostly drawn, the fireplace lit and the croon of old records on your player sealed you all inside your apartment for the night, wrapping you up in your own little snow globe. It was a picture perfect scene, you on the couch with Simba curled up in your lap, Pierre grabbing the wine and pasta that you were eating for dinner, with Miracle on 34th Street playing on the TV, snow falling past the window.

Every Christmas followed this routine since you and Pierre first celebrated the holiday together as a couple, and you couldn't picture a better way to spend it.

But of all of the traditions you followed there was one that seemed the most special, as a child Christmas gifts were locked away never to be opened until the morning, but being adults who made their own rules, you two always sat under the tree on the evening of the 24th and opened your gifts for each other. This year you could feel yourself on the edge of your seat because of the wrapped record that sat at the bottom of his pile, a surprise that you had been working on for about a month.

"qu'est-ce que c'est?" his goofy smile made you giggle as he got to the last gift in his little stack, a stack which had also contained a new watch, a silly t shirt with a photo of him and Charles when they were kids in their little karting suits (a matching one sat in a gift bag with the Monegasque's name on it) and a Cartier chain that now sat in its rightful place on his neck. The flat square was wrapped immaculately in the same gold and silver paper as his other gifts but once the paper was ripped off Pierre was met with a simple brown cardboard record sleeve, completely blank besides a polaroid that had been glued to the front, it was from your first Christmas together, taken in that very apartment when it was empty bar the Christmas tree and sofa you were currently sat on. One word decorated the bottom border of the photograph "Lover" written in your familiar handwriting.

Your own smile only grew when he immediately abandoned all his other gifts to swap out the current song for his mystery gift. Smooth guitars filled the room as he pulled you up to dance with him, your own voice echoing through the room as you settled into a slow sway.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Lover

The songs end was met with the muffled crackle of the needle but you couldn't pull your eyes away from his. without breaking away from your gaze Pierre pulled a small box from his pocket and knelt on the spot. Love and admiration never leaving his eyes.

Your Lover, Forever.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Charles Leclerc

- Feels like This - Maisie Peters

There were a select few honours that you had managed to have in your life this far, the first being the music you were able to give to the world. Since you were old enough to babble you held a tune and the passion you had for music translated to the songs you wrote and shared with the world as your career.

The second being the honour you had to be the long time girlfriend of the most amazing man you had ever known. Charles met you when you were traveling in Italy a few years ago as a well deserved treat to yourself after finishing university. A coffee shop in Maranello played host to your meet cute where you sat in a cosy corner next to the most beautiful piano, when the owner saw you eyeing the instrument she insisted that you play something, and among the crowd of café patrons stood a transfixed Charles Leclerc. He was still in his first year of racing with Ferrari at the time, and once you finished playing a song that you had written the patrons applauded while he worked up the courage to ask you for your name, and eventually your number. The relationship that followed was nothing short of a fairy tale and as his career in formula one grew so did yours in music, both of you growing into notorious and respected individuals in your respective fields.

All this to say that your third and most recent honour came in the form of a request 6 months ago. It was inevitable that Charles brother Lorenzo would eventually propose to his long time love Charlotte but when the day finally came it was magical. This exciting chapter in their lives came with a very special request from the future groom himself, as he pulled you to the side at the family dinner held to celebrate the upcoming nuptials and explained that he wanted to surprise Charlotte with a song for their first dance as husband and wife, and he wanted you (renowned artist and his brother's girlfriend) to write and perform it.

Which led you to tonight, mere hours before the wedding, where you were sat at the piano in the ballroom of the beautiful historic mansion in the Italian countryside that would play host to the reception the following day. You were so engrossed in your secret rehearsal that the footsteps of your love went unheard until you felt him sit with you, the both of you sharing the piano stool. Charles made a successful distraction as your fingers left the keys and you turned to look at him, joy dancing in his eyes as he took you in, sat in your happy place.

"So this is what you have been working on? It sounds beautiful."

Charles was just as much in the dark about your song as the rest of the family, the only one who had heard the song being Lorenzo when you sent a voice note to him three weeks ago for final approval, the phone call you received minutes later held his glowing admiration and you could almost swear his voice was heavy with emotion as he thanked you what must have been a hundred times, citing the songs perfection.

"Enzo asked me to write it, its his gift to Charlotte for tomorrow, their first dance."

You fiddled with the keys absentmindedly before launching into the full song, this time with the vocals which echoed through the empty room, the world coming to a standstill as Charles watched you with eyes full of love.

Who cares about star signs? I'm hardwired to be with you You're like a sunrise and I'm scared that I'll never get enough of you Nobody called it a starfall Come out the blue I'm all butterflies I'm sky-high for you When it feels like this, like a light came on And you look at me like I'm all you want I got everything at my fingertips How can I resist when it feels like this?

The final notes echoed through the room as you met Charles' gaze for his approval, you were met with his hazel gaze staring into your soul.

"How do you do it?" He whispers in awe.

"I write them about you."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Carlos Sainz

- A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

You and Carlos never fought, in the three years that you have been lucky to love him it had never happened.

You were convinced that you were soulmates, twin flames that slotted together like puzzle pieces, your personalities fit in a way that you had never seen before, not in the love your own parents shared, not in the movies you grew up watching or the books you read, not even in the love you saw everyday between strangers on the streets that you would never meet again. Since the day you met Carlos Sainz you were convinced that he was the answer to the wishes that the little girl inside you once made on stars looking to find a handsome prince to love her forever.

Couples fight, it was normal, healthy even. The words bounced around your head, hitting the walls of your empty home in a never ending loop. Couples fight, but you never did.

Which is why you were so frazzled, why you sat in a trance in your living room, alone in your big empty house while your fiancé was on the other side of the world. Because you and Carlos never fought, until you did.

The argument became insignificant the second it ended, you couldn't even remember what it was about or what had started it in the first place, but it was enough to leave you in tears as Carlos picked up his keys and left two days before he was set to leave for Singapore. Your phone lay on the table in front of you, screen dark and notification bar empty. He had yet to reach out, no calls or texts since he walked out the day before, but neither had you. You didn't know what to say, and it wasn't for lack of trying, but every time your finger hovered over his contact you froze, what if he didn't want to speak to you? The Singapore Grand Prix was a difficult race in its essence, it was held at night in blistering heat and it was dangerous if the driver couldn't command their full focus, so the idea of distracting him before he raced left a pit in your stomach.

You were brought out of your thoughts when your phone finally lit up, the screen coming to life with a feint buzz, heart leaping into your throat you scrambled to open it, hoping for a message from him, but it was instead from Lando, one of Carlos' closest friends on the grid. His message was simple, a brief 'saw this on twitter' followed by a video.

Opening the attachment you were met with an edit, clearly made by a fan, of moments that the media and other fans had caught in your relationship. Clips and photos from the last three years of you and Carlos strung together in a video that captured the story of you both, from early days to the many races that you were in attendance for, snippets from interviews where the other was mentioned to the photo that had announced your engagement to the world. Every public moment of your love captured in a two minute video that had you smiling and filled with warmth.

The song took three days from start to finish, your extensive training in as many instruments as you could get your hands on let you compose the piece in record time, and the final product sat nestled in your phone as you boarded the flight to Singapore, the sixteen hour flight let you catch up on the sleep you had lost and when you landed on Sunday evening you were an hour away from the start of the race, you wouldn't make it to the track before Carlos was in the car but the audio file was sent as you settled into a taxi.

When you reached the paddock the race was well underway and a staff member from Ferrari waited at the gates with your pass. There were 10 laps to go when you finally made it to the garage, Alexandra waving you over as you both watched your boys in the final stint of the race, when the checker flag waved to signal the end of the race you accompanied the rest of the crew out to the parc ferme barriers, Max, George and Lando settled into their podium spaces and between them you could see him.

Your eyes met, and the world stopped.

As he jogged over the crew around you began their congratulations for his P4 finish, but your eyes never left his, not until he reached you and his lips crashed onto your own. The frozen world around you began to speed up, lights brighter and sounds louder as you poured you entire being into the kiss.

"mi para siempre" were the words that he mumbled, breaking the kiss with your foreheads pressed together like if you were to separate the world would end.

Couples fight, you and Carlos fought, once, and never again.

And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Daniel Riccardo

- Enchanted - Taylor Swift

It was official, you had finally lost your mind.

"I hope you guys are enjoying the show tonight" you spoke into the mic as the stadium crowd cried out in deafening screams, your usual tour costume had been swapped out for the most gorgeous purple gown of your dreams, this entire section of the show was brand new to debut tonight and close out your Sydney show. A new song that had never been heard by the crowd, or by the man who stood with your friends and family in the VIP tent.

You and Daniel had been friends for as long as either of you could remember. Attached by the hip all your lives you were best friends, well, you were his best friend, you were madly in love with him, which was inconvenient.

As the crowd died down you continued "It's so special to be back in Australia, this has been a pretty epic welcome back to my home so thank you all for coming out tonight." You could feel the love pouring back at you from the crowd, which was giving you courage to do what you were about to do, if this whole thing blew up in your face like fireworks then at least you knew that they would have a new song.

"So I have this song, its a new song that I wrote for my next album but I think that tonight is the perfect night to sing it to you all for the first time." Your eyes bounced between the floor and the section of seats to the left of the stage, where you knew Daniel was watching.

Yep, you had finally gone insane.

"This song was written with someone really special to me in mind, He is someone I have known all my life, and he just so happens to be the person I love most in the world, so I hope you enjoy."

The band played the intro to the song, guitars ringing through the venue which riled the crowd up once again into cheers, there was no going back now.

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy Vanished when I saw your face All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

Thousands of lights began to erupt around the stadium, looking like the fireflies that you and Danny used to chase in the summer. This song contained your entire being, all of your feelings, memories, and dreams condensed into six minutes. Years of neighbouring desks in school, sneaking out to watch the stars, lounging on the sofa in his garage while he fiddled with his kart. It spanned all the cities that you followed him to, watching him race, every victory and every loss, different formula categories and varying teams over the years as he made a name for himself. All the years of talent shows and sleepless nights on porches with your guitar and your notebook, to the sold out shows that led you to tonight. Every single moment shared with him.

This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you

The consequences of your extremely public declaration of your feelings were glaringly obvious, it could all go horribly wrong. You knew that Daniel wouldn't exit your life if he didn't feel the same, but no matter the outcome, either he returned your feelings or you just publicly humiliated yourself on stage and you weren't entirely sure that you could live with the rejection that you would face if he didn't love you the way you wanted to be loved by him.

Daniel Riccardo held a tight grasp on your heart and he had the power to shatter it into a million pieces.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Your voice rang out to a final deafening cheer from the crowd as the lights went dark. The show was over, and now you had to face the music.

As the venue began to empty you paced the length of the backstage area, Daniel always met you back stage after a show if he was in attendance, and as the minutes ticked by and the tulle of your dress brushed the floor with every step dread started to seep into you.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Before you could wish for the earth to swallow you whole pounding footsteps came to a sudden halt behind you. When you turned to see him he looked out of breath, like he ran to get there. His expression was unreadable and a final strike of dread sent a shiver down your spine.

This was a mistake.

Before you could say anything, before you could fumble for the words to explain yourself, make up any excuse to save your friendship from the catastrophic end that your mind was envisioning he marched up to meet you.

The kiss was unexpected, you would have thought you were dreaming but even in your dreams, Daniel never kissed you like that. It lasted what felt like forever and as you both eventually came up for air the unreadable look in his eyes suddenly became glaringly clear.

"I'm not in love with anyone but you."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Part two as promised, This one was a lot of fun to write so I hope you enjoy.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

[naughtyneganjdm]

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 6

Summary: Beau bonds with Y/N over their similarities and it draws Negan closer to her with how good she is with his son.

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

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/132277492

Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, angst, etc.

Notes: This was a really long chapter that I broke into two and added a lot to it. So it took me a while to post this. Sorry about that. The next one should be up soon since it's already done. Thank you for reading the story. I appreciate it!

“I don’t understand,” Beau spoke up following Y/N toward the barn that he had found her at earlier with his father. After they had breakfast, his family sat together with hers at the table to plan out the next few days. Y/N took charge of the conversation and with Maggie’s back up, they planned out a lot of the things that Beau asked of Y/N when she wanted to know what he wanted to do before Christmas. Surprisingly, Hershel and the rest of the family were easy to persuade in agreeing to the plans they made. Especially after Y/N stressed that it was something Beau wanted to do.

Once they were done, Y/N had informed them that she wanted to make plans to do something with Beau a few hours after their conversation, she just had to run to the store to do a few chores first. Even though it was vague, Beau was interested in whatever she had planned so he agreed to it. With Glenn and Y/N leaving, it left a few hours between where they would be alone at the farm. Maggie took the opportunity of taking them up to the attic to go through some of her family’s old photo booklets.  So Negan, Beau, Erin and Maggie all sat together on Negan’s bed looking at the photos and listening to the stories that Maggie told. Halfway through it was pretty obvious they had gotten bored, but they were trying really hard to be nice and listen to Maggie. It was something she was excited about sharing with them, so they were giving her their full attention. Toward the end of it, Erin had fallen asleep on Negan and Beau wished he could have been able to do the same thing without looking rude. While he liked Maggie, it was hard going through a long period of time just looking at old photos.

When Erin did wake up, she asked if Maggie would be willing to take them out riding on the horses again and Maggie agreed. They tried to get Beau to go with them, but he was excited to just have some alone time after everything. Negan offered to wait for Y/N with him, but Beau assured his father he was fine. Part of him thought Negan wanted to wait it out himself, but grudgingly went along with it. Riding horses wasn’t something Beau was really interested in. He cared more so about whatever Y/N had planned for him.

When Y/N finally did show back up, she brought a pair of Shawn’s old clothes for Beau to change into. It confused him, but he didn’t question it. Now that they were walking back to the barn he had found Y/N in earlier with his dad, he didn’t know how to respond to it, “What’s with the clothes? We both look like we’re from a nineties music video.”

“You know what a nineties music video looked like?” Y/N looked back over her shoulder at Beau, amused to hear that come from him since he was so young.

“My mother showed me a lot of the things that she liked when she was younger. So yeah, I have a tape player and everything. I know my music history,” Beau noted with a shrug of his shoulders, brushing his hair back over his ear. “So what is this?”

“Patience my boy,” Y/N held her finger up, pulling open the doors of the barn and stepping aside. Allowing him to see what she had set up, Beau tipped his head to the side with his eyebrows furrowed. His dimples sank in and his hazel eyes looked to her. “Get inside before you freeze.”

“Yes ma’am,” Beau moved into the barn and it made her laugh considering she knew that Negan often responded the exact same way to her.

“I give you and your father one thing, you both have manners,” she closed the doors behind them and moved around to turn the heater on that she had set up for them. One thing she learned earlier with Negan was that if they were going to spend a significant amount of time in that barn, they were going to need some heat.

“I do my best,” Beau folded his arms out in front of his chest, eyeballing what Y/N had set up. There was a bunch of plastic tarp spread out on the ground inside of the barn and off to the sides were two large canvases resting on easels. “If the canvases weren’t here, I might think you were trying to kill me.”

“God,” she choked at his comment, realizing it probably did look like it could be that way. “I could actually see where you came up with that. I am so sorry.”

“I’m teasing you,” Beau explained with a shake of his head, stepping on the tarp hearing the sound it made beneath his feet. “If it was just the tarp, I would worry. With the two canvases set up, obviously you aren’t trying to kill me. I mean, unless you’re going to use my blood to make some kind of art piece.”

“Beau!” she couldn’t help but laugh at his thoughts when he tossed his hands up in the air, giving her an innocent expression. “You’re silly.”

“I try,” he snickered, taking a look around the barn. A long sigh fell from his lips and he rubbed his hands together in attempts to warm up since the heater hadn’t completely started working yet. “All jokes aside. What’s up with this?”

“I know this might be lame, but when I was younger, I was really into art and my emotions. I think Annette was doing her best to try to help me feel better so she would buy me all these paints and canvases,” she related to Beau who was watching her intently with his bright hazel eyes. “So whenever I was feeling depressed or stressed, I would just come out here and paint. I would try many different forms of getting the paint on the canvas. I wanted to find what felt right for me. I think most of my time was spent in here with me finding myself.”

Waving her hand out, she motioned Beau to follow her toward all of the different types of paints that she had gotten along with different brushes and items that he could use to get the paint on the canvas. Holding her hands up in the air, she sighed loudly and cleared her throat, “I see a lot of a younger me in you. So I thought maybe you would like to do something like this.”

“You’re really cool,” Beau spoke faintly and he could tell it made her happy to hear that with the way a smirk tugged at her lips. “I mean it. When I’m feeling bad, I often grab my sketchbook and just draw or write things down. I wish I would have had an art room like this where I could have gone crazy.”

“I’m sure if you asked your dad, he would do that for you,” Y/N suggested getting Beau to contemplate it, his eyebrows bouncing up when he stroked his hand over the side of his face. “Try this first. See how you like it. If you like it, maybe your dad will do something like this for you.”

“Alright,” Beau took time to consider what she was saying, gazing at all the supplies that she had set out for them. “What do you want to paint?”

“What is it that is weighing heavy on you? What do you want to paint?” she inquired, almost knowing what he was going to say, but she wanted him to be the one to make up his mind. “I want you to paint what your heart is feeling.”

“My mom. It’s always my mom,” Beau was honest with her, his hazel eyes filling with a sense of sadness. Reaching out, she caressed her hand in over his shoulder to show her support before stepping back. Even though she was connecting with Negan’s son, she didn’t want to make it too weird for him. Maybe she was worrying too much, but it was what it was. “Is that something you would really be comfortable with painting though? Your mom? I don’t want us to have a theme that is going to upset you.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try,” Y/N spoke with a shrug of her shoulders. The thing that was on her mind the most right now? Negan. But it would be strange for her to paint Beau’s father, so if his theme was his mother, she would find it in herself to paint something that she was feeling toward her own mother.

“Do you want to pick the music?” she held her phone up in the air for him after she connected it to some speakers that she had set out.

“Let’s just go with whatever you like,” Beau offered and she gave a small nod, picking one of her playlists from her phone. Setting it down on the table she had set up, she looked to Beau and saw him eyeing over the paints. “How messy can we get this?”

“I bought a lot of stuff, so as messy as you want to get this. Use as much as you want. Go crazy with it,” she replied back seeing Beau reach for a vibrant color of paint that she had picked up. Getting it open, Beau looked up at her with amusement in his features before heading over toward one of the canvases. They were facing away from each other so that way the final project could be hidden until the end. With a grunt, Beau threw the paint at the canvas making Y/N laugh out at the sound it made. The paint splattered and dripped down from the canvas. Beau’s laugh filled the air when he shrugged his shoulders.

“I thought this might be the quickest way of getting the background a certain color,” Beau explained to her, already getting splattered in paint with his clothes so she figured it was a good plan when she gave him some clothes he could easily toss away. “Are you open to talking while you work?”

“Sure,” she grabbed her supplies to get started on her painting. “I’m always willing to talk.”

“What would you have done if I would have told you that I didn’t want to do this?” Beau’s nose wrinkled, making it obvious with his expression that he was just teasing her further, but she ran with it.

“I would have tucked my tail between my legs and grabbed Glenn. Forced him to do something,” she had an answer for him, but she was hopeful that he would agree to this. “I’m glad you don’t think it’s completely lame.”

“Not at all,” Beau shook his head, sucking at his bottom lip while he spread out the paint he used to get it across the canvas. “I think you’re a very interesting person. From what little I know about you that is. You know how to set up a murder scene after all.”

“Painting…murdering someone, same thing,” she snickered noticing the way that Beau smiled at her. “I think painting can get messier sometimes. Especially when you feel passionate about the piece.”

“Or if you’re just being lazy and you want to get something done fast,” Beau suggested, stepping away from the canvas to look down over himself. Amusement flooded his young features knowing that he had gotten himself incredibly messy from what he had already done. “It’s not fun if you don’t get messy.”

“That’s probably what we are missing at work,” Y/N noted, a small laugh falling from her throat. “Everyone is so uptight there. If we got messy sometimes, I think people would have a lot more fun.”

“Then make it happen,” Beau thought aloud, “You’re in charge. Shake things up a little bit.”

“I don’t think the big boss would be okay with something like that. You probably see the way your dad has to dress every day,” she contemplated the idea knowing that she hated dressing up like that every day as well. “I think with art you should be more relaxed. Wear business clothes when someone is coming in or you have a meeting. People work so much better when they are more comfortable. Dress for success is what they say, but I think people would work better if they wore whatever they wanted.”

“They’ve liked your ideas so far,” Beau pointed out wondering if it was something she would actually try to do. It was something he heard his father complain about every morning since he could remember. Negan was not a suit wearing guy. He hated it. So Beau knew it would be something that his dad would appreciate. “Permission to change the subject to something a little more personal?”

“You don’t have to keep asking permission for things,” she replied back, finding amusement in Negan’s son’s manners while she contemplated her art piece. “You can talk to me about anything that you want to talk about.”  

“I just don’t want to hurt or upset you,” Beau confessed, taking a moment to think things over. “Why do you let your father talk to you the way he does?” Beau wondered knowing that it was probably something that he shouldn’t have brought up, but it was weighing heavy on his mind. “The way he talks to you is very demeaning. I’m sorry for bringing it up, but I don’t like it. I mean, he’s been nice to me but Mr. Greene could learn a few things about being a father.”

“You’re not upsetting me by saying it. You’re not wrong,” she pointed out from where she was over by her canvas set up. It was sad that even Negan’s child was capable of seeing the way that Hershel treated her was wrong, but her own father couldn’t see it himself. “I give him backtalk sometimes, but at the same time, I don’t know? Maybe I keep my mouth shut sometimes because I just know he’s my father.”

“And because of that is why he shouldn’t be like that,” Beau reasoned with her, his raspy voice hitching when he headed over to the supplies to look for a few things that he wanted. “I wouldn’t fight with my dad, but my dad doesn’t treat me the way that Mr. Greene treats you.”

“That’s because your father is an incredible man,” she replied back noticing the way that Beau looked back at her with a smirk before nodding. “You were lucky that you ended up with such a good dad. You can tell that he loves you and Erin very much.”

“I know this is deep, but you should be proud of yourself,” Beau suggested while working on his painting. “I was lucky enough to grow up with two incredible parents. I had my mom. I had my dad. And they both loved me. They raised me right. I’ve been surrounded by nothing but love my entire life. I lost my mom and it broke me, but I never questioned if she loved me. I can see your family was hard on you and you never knew your mom. For someone who grew up in the position that you did, you really turned out good. You’re successful, you’re nice…”

“I don’t know how nice I am kiddo,” she sighed loudly, stealing a quick look at Beau who was watching her from where he was standing by his painting. “I’ve probably done some really questionable things that people wouldn’t find very nice.”

“You’ve been nothing but nice to me,” Beau reminded her and it made a lump develop in her throat. “You’ve gone above and beyond to make me feel comfortable. Even when you barely knew me. If that’s not kindness. I don’t know what is,” Beau continued on thinking things over, “And someone could say it’s because you know my dad, but it’s not. I can’t tell you how many people know my dad and they don’t go above and beyond for me like you have in the last two days. Maggie included.”

“I just want you happy,” she informed him feeling the lump in her throat growing bigger. “You remind me of me when I was younger and I…I don’t know.”

“It’s because you’re a good person,” Beau reiterated with a firmness to his tone causing her to shrug her shoulders. “One day, you’re gonna see it. Even if your family makes you feel otherwise. Your family should lift you up. Not bring you down. Maybe my family can show you that.”

“You’re sweet,” she commented and it made Beau smile, his dimples becoming more visible while he continued to work on his painting. “You know, I got Maggie to agree to doing all of the things that you wanted to do for Christmas. We figured out our schedule over the next few days.”

“See what I mean about the whole you being a kind person thing?” Beau stuck to what he was saying previously and it made her smile, shaking her head since he was sticking with it. “Thank you for doing that. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” she corrected him knowing that she didn’t want to make him think that it was for any reason other than what it was for. “I don’t want you to feel like I did when I was younger. You shouldn’t feel broken or sad. I think your mother would want the best for you.”

“She was awesome you know,” Beau informed Y/N thinking back on his mother. “I think she would have really liked you. You remind me of her. When I saw you in my dad’s room the other day, it brought back so many memories of her for me. And the way you are with people? I wish you could have met her. The two of you would have been good friends.”

“I’m sure I would have really liked her,” she commented, a smirk tugging at her lips when she heard Beau singing along to the music that was on in the background. For a while they were quiet while they worked on things, but the best part of doing this whole thing was seeing how emotional it seemed to make Beau in a good way. Whenever she would steal a look at him, he would either be contemplating deeply or smiling and that made her happy to see. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad,” Beau responded, stepping away from the painting that he was working on and it showed her that the clothes he was wearing were covered in paint along with his hands and arms. It made her laugh and he looked down at himself. Shamelessly, he shook his arms to try to get some of it off, but it just spread more. “Hey Y/N? What was your favorite thing about Christmas growing up? Do you have a favorite memory?”

“Uh…” she paused to think about it and the longer she did, the more she began to realize that she didn’t really have a good memory to think of. “I don’t think so. Sadly. My family always went all out on Christmas, but there is no exact memory that I have that’s very…happy.”

“That makes me sad,” Beau frowned, shaking his head at the thought of not having a moment or moments to really stand out for her. “We’ll have to change that for you. Because everyone deserves to have memories that they can look back on and be happy about.”

“We’ll see,” she breathed out knowing that this time that she had been able to spend with Negan and Beau were some of her favorite moments that she had in a very long time. That scared her because she didn’t have a lot of good moments to look back on in her life. If she was starting to admit that she was happy, she was afraid that these feelings and moments that she was having would be taken away from her. Looking forward to things or getting ahead of herself was not something she should be doing because this was so new and she didn’t want to get excited for something that would only lead to sadness in the end.

“So…” Beau spoke up from the other end of the barn. “You and Glenn. When are the two of you planning on getting married?”

“Uh, we never picked a date,” Y/N felt her heartbeat quicken at the name of her fiancé that had joined her on this trip.

“Why is that?” Beau wondered and honestly? It was a question she never really thought about herself.

“I don’t know,” she was honest with Negan’s son. “He asked me to marry him and after that? We really didn’t talk about it much more. I’ve been so busy with my new job and everything that I never actually thought about getting married.”

“I see,” Beau sighed, his lips parting like he wanted to say something, but he rethought it and changed the direction of his questions. “Was it romantic when he asked you to marry him?”

“I mean…” she didn’t know whether to be honest or not with Negan’s son. Thinking things over, what could it hurt with her being honest with Beau? “No. It wasn’t. Glenn asked me in front of a bunch of people and we had never really talked about marriage before. I guess when I pictured me getting engaged to someone, I figured it would be personal. Something that I could look back on that was special between me and the person I was in love with. When Glenn asked me, I was almost afraid of telling him no because I didn’t want to hurt him. He’s so sweet and he’s a good person. The last thing I wanted to do was upset him.”

“So you don’t want to be engaged to him,” Beau clarified making a lump develop in her throat and she lowered down the brush that she was using to paint the art that she was doing. “Why tell him yes then?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt him,” she confessed back, looking to the ring that was on her finger. “I cared more about his feelings than I did what I really wanted.”

“That’s not what love should be like,” Beau asserted and she found herself impressed to hear this coming from a thirteen-year-old. “I think Glenn is nice and everything, but I don’t see that spark between the two of you.”

“The spark?” she set down what she was painting with, reaching up to drag her hand across the painting that she was doing and it made Beau give her an odd expression. “It will make sense when you see the painting.”

“Okay?” Beau was confused but went with it. “Yeah. The spark. I saw it with my dad and my mom when she was alive. There is this thing that people have when they look at each other. You can just see it. You and Glenn come off like best friends. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” she reassured Beau, moving over to the paints that she had set up. Beau moved in beside her looking for something while she cleaned up a few things. Taking a look at Beau, she couldn’t help but laugh seeing him covered in the paint. “Did you get any paint on the canvas?”

“I did. Thank you,” Beau snorted reaching his fingers out to dip them in some of the paint before flicking it at her, watching her turn away from the spray of the paint. With a small laugh, Beau tried to bite back on it before Y/N turned to him. Nodding, she reached out to dip her fingers in the same paint before flicking it at Beau. With a laugh, Beau shrugged his shoulders and pointed to what he was wearing. “Like that is really going to affect me. I’m already covered Y/N.”

“Okay, well in that case,” she reached for the pink paint that she had set out and Beau let out a nervous laugh.

“Now hold on. You wouldn’t do that,” Beau held his hand up to stop her from doing it. “You wouldn’t want to get that all over with the toxins that could be in the paint and…”

“I got the safe, nontoxic paint for us,” she informed him and Beau let out a nervous sound. A moment later she tossed the paint out watching it hit Beau with a splash when the rest of the paint hit the ground where the tarp was beneath him. “I think pink is your color, Beau.”

“Wow,” Beau held his hands up in the air, his head shaking when he looked down at himself. Moving over toward the paints, Beau grabbed one of the open containers and he watched her backstepping away from him. “Now wait a second, I just want to show you this…”

“Beau,” she tried dodging him moving around the barn. Holding her hands up, she shook her head. “I mean it was only justice since you have all that paint over you already.”

Watching Negan’s son, she ducked when he threw the paint at her and heard the door opening at the same time. With a splashing sound, she heard a grunt follow. Beau’s laughter filled the air and she looked back over her shoulder to see that Negan was standing at the door with red paint dripping down his face and the front of his body.

“Negan,” Y/N choked back at on laughter as he reached up in attempts to wipe the paint from his face, but it didn’t do much. “You…you know. Red is really your color. You look great.”

“Hey, Y/N?” Beau called out drawing her to look back over her shoulder and before she could react, paint was being thrown on her. Gasping out, she looked down at herself to see that she was covered in green paint and Beau was giggling. “Now the two of you are very festive.”

“I’m not going to have any clothes by the time this whole trip is done,” Negan moved into the barn, looking down at the paints that were still left. Grabbing one, Negan turned toward his son watching Beau take off running and he followed his son around the barn.

As they rounded the corner, Negan slipped on the tarp and the paint that he was carrying poured all over him. Groaning out, Negan heard the laughs of both Y/N and Beau, but instead of letting it keep him down, he was chasing both of them throughout the barn. It was probably dangerous in some sense, but they were all laughing and having fun with one another. It was the first time in a long time that he had heard this kind of laughter from Beau and he loved it.

“Shit,” Negan felt the paint beneath him making him slip and Y/N reached out to catch him, both of them cackling over the fact that they were both covered in paint and looked like a mess. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

“You sure are,” Beau called out from where he was standing with the last bit of paint. Scrambling to get up, Negan felt his feet slipping again and just when he was about to try to move, he ended up bringing Y/N down with him.

“Negan, I think we’re…” Maggie’s voice spoke up when the door pulled open again and she was met with the splash of the paint that Beau had thrown at both Y/N and Negan. Once the paint hit Maggie, Beau immediately dropped the can and scrambled backwards, but he slipped on the tarp and fell on his bottom. A gasp fell from Maggie’s lips when she shakily reached up to try to wipe the white paint that was over her face off. Once she got a look at the barn and the mess that they had made along with how all three of them were covered in paint, it made her huff. Beau was motionless, knowing that it was his fault that Maggie got covered in the paint that she did. “I don’t even want to know, but I’m going to go get cleaned up and changed. Please clean…whatever the hell this is up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan breathed out, slowly pulling himself up from the ground to stand face to face with Maggie. There was no doubt that she was furious with this whole thing and he was doing everything he could to keep his amusement hidden, but he was failing. Tiny laughs were escaping his throat, but he was trying to hide them between fake coughs. “We’ll get right to it.”

“I am so sorry,” Beau muttered from where he was seated on the ground. Attempting to pull himself up, Beau could see that Maggie’s expression softened when he spoke to her. It was a vastly different look than that of what she was giving Negan. “We were just playing around and they fell. I swear, I would have never thrown paint on you.”

“Don’t worry about it kiddo,” Maggie forgave him, holding her hands up only to hear the sound of someone moving in behind her.

“Holy shit,” a young voice stammered making Y/N choke when she saw Erin standing beside Maggie staring out at the mess that was made. There was shock and awe in the mess that Erin saw, but it was mostly amusement. Which was quite funny considering Erin was so young. “What the heck happened?”

“There was a…uh…” Negan looked around, throwing his hands up when he spoke. It was hard coming up with a lie good enough to fit whatever had happened between them here. “There was an explosion.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t here when it went off,” Erin looked up to see that Maggie was covered in the paint too which immediately made her start giggling. White droplets were dripping from Maggie’s face and onto the tarp. Looking to the other three, she couldn’t contain her laughter, placing her hand in over her stomach. Tears were forming at her eyes seeing how ridiculous that they all looked. “You all look silly. It’s so funny!”

“You want a hug?” Negan offered up to his daughter hearing her giggle. Shaking her head, she hid behind Maggie, her little cheeks turning a bright shade of red from her laughter. At least Erin was having fun with all of this. “Come on. I’ll give you a big hug? I know your daddy’s hugs are your favorite.”

“No daddy. I don’t need to become a real-life painting,” Erin denied him the hug that he was requesting from her before backstepping away from them.

“I’ll have my dad and stepmom watch over her while I’m taking a shower,” Maggie urged Erin toward the door of the barn. “At some point, you can let me know what happened here.”

“It was an art project between Beau and I,” Y/N responded, holding her finger up to point to the canvases that were still standing. “It got…messy.”

“I can tell,” Maggie opened the door, holding it open and circling her finger around her face. “So can my face.”

“We were just having some fun Maggie. It was mostly my fault,” Beau spoke up, hating that Y/N was taking the majority of the credit for this whole thing. “I got carried away and I was having some fun with things. I started the paint throwing.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just going to need to take my second shower of the day and I’m pretty sure all of you are going to too,” Maggie slurred, trying to wipe some of the paint from her face again, letting out a grunt. There was an anger that was flooding her veins, but thankfully she was holding it back likely because of Erin and Beau. “I’ll go take that shower now.”

“Be careful,” Negan called out, making Maggie stop in the doorway and Erin looked back at Maggie confused. Snickering to himself, Negan was aware that his comment likely fired Maggie up, but that was how he always was with Maggie. So it wasn’t like he was acting any different. They always fucked with one another and he liked getting on her nerves. Waving to Erin, Negan shook his head and paint splattered from his dark hair. With a huff, Y/N pushed into his shoulder and he snickered. “Love you baby.”

“Love you too daddy,” Erin called out before Maggie closed up the doors leaving them all alone in the barn together.

Wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, Negan shook his head and let out a long exhale, “I am in so much trouble later.”

“I’m sure it will be me that takes the grunt of it,” Y/N suggested with a frown knowing that while Maggie was trying to be polite about things, it would be her fault somehow that this happened. That’s how it always was growing up. Even if it was something that made her happy, if it upset Maggie? She was always going to be at fault.

“I’m sorry,” Beau apologized, finally gathering himself completely and standing up straight. “I didn’t know she was coming in. And if I did, I would have never thrown that paint. I know what a tight ass she can be.”

“Beau!” Negan tried to correct his son, but his laughter kind of hid through how he was really feeling.

“You know I’m right,” Beau waved his hand about and moved around the barn toward the canvas that was Y/N’s. When he saw it, his eyes grew wide and he let out a tense breath. “Wow.”

“What’s this?” Negan moved around the canvas to take a look at it and he let out a surprised breath when he saw her painting. It was a portrait of a woman, but her face had been smudged not allowing any real details to show a face. Her identity was a blur and it drew a chill down Negan’s spine.

“The topic was our mothers,” Beau educated his father on what their theme was while Negan eyed over the details of the painting. Moving in beside Negan, she felt Negan’s fingers hooking with hers while they all stood before her art. They probably all looked ridiculous right now covered in paint while observing her work, but she didn’t mind it. Holding Negan’s hand like this might have been dangerous territory, but it came so natural for them. “I kind of want to cry. Especially knowing that you never knew what your mother looked like. It really hits home.”

“It’s beautiful Y/N,” Negan stammered, his chest rising and falling while they all stood together. “You should keep this because it’s amazing. I feel like I was just punched in the fucking gut. It’s so emotional with the way you decided to do this.”

It was something that just came naturally to her while she was doing it. At the time, she hadn’t thought much about it, but now that everyone was observing her art and she was taking the time to think about how she felt about her mother, it was drawing her eyes to burn at the thought. Trying to shake it off, she didn’t want to get emotional in front of the boys so she attempted to take the attention off her.

“What about yours Beau?” Y/N moved over toward Beau’s, with Negan’s hand still in hers when they all made their way over.

“Well, I didn’t get to really put the finishing details on it,” Beau declared, following them not far behind when they headed over to the painting that he was working on. “But it’s mostly done.”

Negan’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that Beau did a close up painting of Lucille’s face in bright, vibrant colors. There was no hiding that it was Lucille and he couldn’t believe how talented his son was, “Jesus Beau. You are so fucking talented.”

“Eh, I still need to learn a lot,” Beau suggested eyeing over Y/N and Negan while they stood before his painting of his mother. Noticing that they were holding hands, Beau smirked and looked back to the painting. “It’s nowhere near as thought provoking as Y/N’s painting.”

“Yeah, but Beau…you are thirteen years old and this is stunning,” Y/N waved her hand about in the air pointing toward the painting that Beau had visibly worked so hard on. “This is amazing.”

“This is from memory?” Negan looked to his son and Beau nodded. “Beau, I don’t even know if I could do it this well.”

“I look at her photo everyday dad,” Beau reminded Negan, his shoulders shrugging when he stepped forward to eye over the art he made of his mother. “I don’t want to forget her face. It’s the most important thing to me right now. And the vibrant colors remind me of her. You remember how mom was. She was always so in your face. Nothing was ever muted when it came to mom.”

Letting out a tremoring breath, Beau felt Negan’s hand grasping a firm hold of his. Looking down, he squeezed his fingers around Negan’s tighter feeling the lump growing bigger in his throat. For a while they just stood in silence and Beau couldn’t help but notice that they were all linked together in this moment. Hand in hand. Resting his head against Negan’s shoulder, Beau allowed them time to finish looking at his work before they carefully moved the canvases to the back so they wouldn’t get ruined with their clean up.

“Knock-knock,” a voice called out while they were finishing everything up to the best of their ability. An overwhelmed grumble fell from the throat of Hershel when he got a looked at all three of them. “What in God’s name were you all doing in here? Maggie told me you would need towels, but this is…”

“Just having some fun Mr. Greene,” Beau interrupted Y/N’s father, rocking back and forth on his feet when he brought Hershel’s attention onto him. “But don’t worry, we cleaned it up and it won’t be a problem.”

“It will be if you walk into the house like that,” Hershel threw his hand up in the air pointing to the three of them and the way they were covered in the paint. “I brought the towels so you can change out of your clothes and wrap yourself in these on your way back to the house. We’ll spray down the clothes and your shoes so they can dry out.”

“Thank you, sir,” Beau stepped forward, accepting the towel from Hershel. Negan did the same and the glare that Hershel gave Negan made him let out a nervous breath.

“What do you want us to change out of?” Negan’s eyebrow arched, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he thought about the situation. “It’s gonna be a little weird walking back to the home in nothing but a towel.”

“Keep your undergarments on, obviously,” Hershel rolled his eyes and it made Beau snicker at his response to everything. And keep your socks on too. You’re going to be walking through snow. It’s the best we can do. Just go in the back and change away from everyone else.”

“You can go first kiddo,” Y/N instructed to Beau who gave her a firm nod leaving both Negan and Y/N to suffer from the glare of her father while they waited. Hershel’s eyes fell upon the paintings that were in the back and he tipped his head to the side. “The project was our mothers.”

“I see,” Hershel scoffed, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I reckon the vibrant one is your late wife Negan?”

“Yeah. That’s Lucille,” Negan responded, noticing that Hershel was looking over the paintings, his eyes squinting as if trying to get a better look. “My boy really nailed a lot of her features. I can show you a picture later to see how talented he is.”

“I can see from here that your son is talented. I don’t need a photograph to prove it,” Hershel huffed, his eyes gazing over at Y/N who seemed to be standing there in silence. “What is it with you and your art? You can’t just do art in peace. You have to always make a big event of it? You all are going to have to walk back in the cold because of this. Who knows what the boy is going to get. Maggie got paint on the porch from what you threw on her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she breathed out, her throat tensing up knowing that she was going to get a lecture from her father. She called that one from the start. “We were just having some fun. Beau is an artist and this was my favorite thing to do as a kid.”

“Her painting is incredible though, right?” Negan spoke up, trying to break Hershel’s attention away from being irritated with her over something that was just a silly moment between all of them. “It was only a few hours and her painting touched me in ways that I don’t even know if I can explain.”

“Hmm…” Hershel didn’t even take the time to comment, his eyes shifting down toward the ground when Beau returned and it was Negan’s turn to toss his clothes in the back after changing. During that time Hershel was really quiet. In front of Beau, Hershel would no doubt be a different man. And when it was her turn to change, she watched Hershel point over toward Beau’s work. “You’re a very talented kid you know. You’re going to do big things with your talents one day. Nice work.”

“Thank you,” Beau’s raspy voice was heard as she rounded the corner. At least she was proud of her father for that. When she was younger, she never got compliments from her father when it came to her art.

Once she was done, she returned and realized how ridiculous they all looked standing there in towels with their socks on, “I’ll spray your clothes and shoes down. Get back to the house fast and try not to get paint all over.”

“Yes sir,” Beau offered up a charming smile, similar to the one that Negan would often give people. A smile that Y/N had gotten used to over the last few months working with him.

Their walk back to the house was quick since it was snowing and Maggie had met them at the door. She offered to let Beau use her bathroom since her and Glenn were going to go pick up some food for the family. Beau accepted and Negan offered to wait in his room while Y/N took the other shower in the bathroom on the second floor.

But when Negan knew Maggie had left with Glenn and the rest of the family was busy, he snuck into the bathroom with Y/N, surprising her when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck had her biting back on a sigh, “Are you sure you want to be in here with everyone here?”

Pressing a faint kiss against the side of her neck, Negan growled and heard her laugh, “They are all downstairs anyways. I think Erin is entertaining your father and Annette.”

Stepping back, Negan tugged at his towel and tossed it aside. Pushing at his boxer briefs, Negan kicked out of them and saw her smirk, looking down between them. A wolfish smile tugged at Negan’s handsome features when her eyes raised again, “We look fucking great right now.”

“I don’t know about that,” she chuckled feeling Negan tugging at her towel and tossing it beside his. Getting undressed, she saw Negan brace himself when he pulled his socks off and tossed them in the pile of their clothes at the center of the floor.

Once they were naked, Negan moved in behind her and urged her to look at them in the mirror and she immediately reached up to cover her face. Laughing, Negan reached for her hands to get them to move down, “Negan! We look fucking ridiculous.”

“I wish we had my phone because I would take a picture,” Negan responded with an entertained sound as she placed her hand in over the center of his chest to brace herself.

“With us being buck ass naked and covered in paint?” she found hilarity in that statement. “We look terrible.”

“Correction. The bodies look great, we just look like we were in a very bad accident at a home improvement store,” Negan pinched at her bottom eliciting a gasp to fall from her lips. Leaning in closer to her Negan gave a silly pose and she playfully pushed into his side. “Don’t be embarrassed. This is fun. This is silly. It’s cute.”

“I don’t think anyone would find it cute with you and me being naked together here,” she acknowledged, sliding her hands up the lengths of his abdomen toward his chest, twisting her fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his flesh.

“You’re going to give me a hard on and I’m really trying to be innocent here. We don’t have time for shower sex,” Negan frowned causing her to roll her eyes and step back away from him. Looking down, Negan huffed and shook his head. “I have kind of a chubby right now as it is.”

Reaching for Y/N’s hand, Negan led her over toward the shower and turned the water on. Making sure that the water was at an appropriate temperature, he helped her into the shower and moved in behind her.  

Hearing her sigh once the warmth of the water poured in over them, Negan leaned forward and braced his hands against the wall trapping her in his arms, “You know, I wouldn’t care if your family fucking knew we were together anyways. At this point, who fucking cares?”

“You would when my father found out you were cheating on Maggie,” Y/N turned in his arms to face him, her hands caressing in over the sides of Negan’s body while he stood before her. “When we tell them about us, it will have to be without my father.”

“I’m not scared of your father,” Negan hummed, his eyebrows arching up and she tipped her head to the side. “I can’t help who I fell in love with. And if he can’t handle that? Then tough shit.”

“So brave now,” she shook her head watching Negan’s hands drop from the wall and he closed the distance between the two of them. “It will be different when we have to tell them.”

“I know how I feel Y/N,” Negan hushed her, capturing her jaw between his thumb and index finger. Swiping his thumb over her flesh, Negan shook his head and lowered down in closer to her. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“You know what I think?” she spoke in a whisper with their lips inches apart. Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered and when their eyes connected, she let out a tiny laugh. “I think my ass is going to be bruised tomorrow from how hard we fell before Maggie came in.”  

Grumbling out, Negan urged her to turn so he could get a look at her ass and she gasped, “Negan!”

“It looks fine to me,” Negan claimed, nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck. Palming over her bottom had her letting out a tight exhale and Negan chuckled against her flesh. Pooling at the drain was the mixture of paint colors being cleaned from them and Negan found himself happy in that moment. “You made my son happier today than anyone has in a very long time.”

Unhurriedly, Negan’s palms slid in over her hips then in over her lower abdomen where her fingers hooked with his, “I think we all had a pretty good time there for a little while.”

“Maggie would disagree,” Negan snorted, his nose wrinkling when she turned to face him again. Reaching up, she palmed in over the side of his face and giggled when she saw that some of the paint was still sticking to him. Attempting to help him get it off, she stepped in closer to him and rest her head against the center of his chest when a big laugh fell from her throat. “Thank you for what you are doing with Beau. You have no idea how much it means to me. My boy lost his smile for a while and it was nice to see it back tonight.”

“I’m just happy he had fun,” she stroked her fingers over the center of his chest. “He’s a good kid. You raised him right.”

“I can only take so much credit for that. His mother did a really good job with him too. They were best friends,” Negan informed her, wrapping her up in his arms and sighing when she cuddled in closer to him. Caressing his hand down over the length of her back, Negan frowned and shook his head. “I was really worried about what would happen to him after we lost his mother, but he’s been so good. I think he’s taken great care of his little sister. And he’s taken care of me when it should be the opposite. I’m so fucking lucky to have that boy in my life.”

“Is it bad that I don’t want to leave this position?” she wondered knowing that she felt the calmest she had in a very long time under the spray of water with Negan holding onto her like he was. “I can’t even believe we are doing this.”

“I’m very comfortable myself,” Negan snickered, pressing a kiss over her forehead and giving her another tight squeeze pulling her close to his body. It was surprising how this wasn’t sexual at all, just more of a sweet intimate moment between the two of them. “I don’t think it’s wrong to want to keep feeling good when you were trained to force yourself to feel bad all the time.”

“I love you,” she lifted her head, reaching up to brush her fingers through his wet hair. “I really do. If you would have told me I would have been feeling this way a week ago, I would have told you to fuck off.”

“Well, that reaction is one people often do have when they think about me,” Negan teased, his nose wrinkling when he urged her to face the showerhead. Caressing his hands up the sides of her body, Negan reached for the shampoo and started to lather her hair with the soap that was there. It was kind of romantic and sweet that he was doing it and she found herself in awe of him. “I do piss people off a lot. And I guarantee you when we get back to work, even though you will be absolutely fucking smitten with me, I’m still gonna piss you off and you’re gonna want to choke me.”

“God,” she scoffed, turning in his arms and stealing the shampoo returning the gesture by soaping up his hair as well. Tipping up on her toes, her lips hovered over his and she shook her head, “We’ll save the choking for our alone time.”

“You’re a freak. I like it,” Negan snickered against her flesh, capturing her lips in a kiss that drew her further up on her toes toward him. Stepping forward, he got them further under the water so they could get the shampoo out of their hair. “I’m pretty sure I���d let you do any fucking thing to me honey. And I’d enjoy it.”

“You better,” she nipped at his bottom lip before going to get the body wash to work to scrub the paint off with Negan’s help. “Your son told me that he doesn’t see the spark between me and Glenn. The spark that you and his mother had.”

“He’s a perceptive little man,” Negan noted while they finished getting cleaned up together in the small shower. “And he’s not wrong.”

“I didn’t lie to him though. I told him that I agreed and I didn’t think I belonged with Glenn,” she was honest with Negan about the conversation she had with his son. “Is that bad?”

“Nope. He’s very easy to talk to and I don’t think he’s going to go running to Glenn to tell him,” Negan explained to her, turning off the shower after they were done. Getting out, he reached for a new towel and held it out for her. Getting out of the shower carefully, she stepped forward only to feel Negan wrapping her up in the new towel. With Negan peppering kisses over the side of her neck, she couldn’t help but laugh at the way it felt with his short beard against her flesh. “Eventually you will have a talk with Glenn and he’s a nice guy. I’m sure he will understand.”

“He’s so fucking nice Negan,” she let out a hesitant breath, her eyebrows furrowing when she thought about the man she had been dating for quite some time. “I can only imagine how he is going to take things once I tell him.”

“He’ll survive,” Negan assured her, grabbing a hold of her hands to give them a tight squeeze. Stepping back, he reached for a new towel for himself to wrap around his waist. Standing in front of the mirror, he took a long look at himself and huffed. Slicking his hair back, he felt her arms wrapping around him from behind. Caressing over the lengths of his long, slender abdomen she used him to brace up on her toes so she could press faint kisses over his freckle covered shoulders. “If I don’t get to be with you, I won’t survive. I can fucking promise you that.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she snickered against his flesh, stepping back and away from him, hearing his snort follow. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“Hold me. Kiss me. Love me. Fuck me,” Negan’s voice growled, turning on his heel to face her noticing the flush of color that flooded her features. “Spank me. Yell at me. Cuddle me. Whatever your heart desires. Just don’t break my heart.”

“Goddamn it. You are so fucking cute it’s frustrating,” she laughed, pushing her fingers into the center of his chest making his thick eyebrows furrow. The expression he made caused her heart to flutter in her chest. It was like he was pouting and she shook her head. “You look like a fucking puppy when you use those fucking eyes on me.”

“Sexiest puppy you’ve ever seen,” Negan bobbed his head about eliciting a laugh from deep within her. Moving around him, she started putting her clothes on and Negan frowned. “I like being naked with you.”

“You technically are still very much naked under that towel,” she reminded him, pointing down at the towel that was wrapped loosely around his hips. “Did you bring your clothes with you?”

“I did not,” Negan let out a tense breath looking down at the towel that he was wearing. Pulling it apart, Negan held his arms out and he was purposely trying to flash her. “It’s almost a shame we took a shower together and we didn’t get to do anything in the shower.”

“I like what we did,” she responded, turning toward him to drag her index finger down over the center of his chest circling his nipple with her fingertip before dragging it down further. When her fingers dragged across his hip, it had his eyes narrowing and his breathing grew louder. “Better close up that towel tightly and go get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan frowned, pulling the towel tightly together and knotting it. “You’re a tease.”

“Says the man who was just flashing me his penis,” she leaned in closer to him, the warmth of her breath lingering over his lips.

“You like it so much, I thought I’d leave you with the image of me soaking wet, completely nude…” Negan’s dimples became more prominent with his whispering, “that way it helps you get through the rest of the day.”

“What helps you get through the rest of the day? Imagining it in my mouth or inside of me?” she purred and Negan growled in response.

“Both are incredible choices,” Negan noticed her stroking small shapes over the center of his chest and he smiled. “Now the idea of me coming down your throat is very appealing. We haven’t done that yet.”

“We’ll have to see if we can make that happen,” she hushed him, pushing her fingers into his chest to get him to step back. “But not right now.”

“Tease,” Negan rolled his eyes, reaching for the door to leave, but he rethought it. Lowering down, he nuzzled his nose in against the side of her face. Noticing what he was asking for, she laughed and turned just enough to meet Negan in a quick kiss. After he peppered a few more kisses over his lips, he pulled the door open and went to move out into the hallway.

“Fuck! Beau,” Negan gasped when he came face to face with Beau who was just coming out of Maggie’s room. They both froze when they saw one another and Negan clung tightly to the door. Tipping his head to the side, Beau eyed over Y/N. The color had drained from both Negan and Y/N’s faces after he had caught them in the bathroom together pulling away from a kiss. Grasping tightly to the towel that he was wearing, Negan cleared his throat and noticed the smirk that pressed in over Beau’s young features. Rubbing a towel through his wet hair, Beau shook his head and moved out of Maggie’s room stepping out into the hallway. “Listen…I…”

“Can explain?” Beau finished for Negan, his jaw flexing as he let out a tense laugh. Shrugging his shoulders, Beau didn’t seem to be too bothered by things. Y/N moved in beside Negan in the doorway and Beau eyed over the stairs to make sure they were alone. “I told you dad, I’m not asking questions. When you’re ready to tell me something. You will. Nor am I going to be talking to anyone about anything. Because it’s none of my business.”  

“We didn’t do anything,” Y/N assured Negan’s son with a panicked voice, her eyes looking terrified when she saw the way that Beau was looking between them. “I swear. It was very innocent.”

“Okay,” Beau shrugged his shoulders pointing toward the stairs. “You think we should go figure out what Erin is doing with your family? I think sugar cookies are out of the question until tomorrow, don’t you? With all of us being covered in paint earlier.”

“As long as you are okay with that,” she breathed out, surprised how well Beau was taking seeing her and his father coming out of the bathroom together soaking wet with his dad still in a towel. Giving them a small nod, Beau handed the towel that he had over to his father and Negan eagerly accepted it. “I just want you happy.”

“And I just want both of you happy,” Beau released a long sigh, folding his arms out in front of his chest. “So whatever it takes for you both to be happy? I’m okay with it. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you happy dad. So do whatever you have to do. I’m a big boy and I understand that.”

“I feel like we should talk,” Negan suggested hearing Beau snicker and shake his head. Beau’s eyebrows bounced up and Negan wrapped the towel that Beau gave him around his shoulders. “I’m sure you have some questions and…”

“Dad, another time. I think you need to go get dressed before someone else comes up here,” Beau pointed toward his father from where he was standing still dressed in nothing but a towel. “I am going to go check on Erin and make sure she’s not starting a fire or anything.”

“Beau,” Negan spoke up, walking out into the hallway with his son and Beau threw his hands up in the air. “I just think…”

“When you’re ready, you’ll talk to me,” Beau repeated, moving for the stairs. “Until then, I saw nothing. And I know nothing.”

“Shit,” Negan cussed, his hands sliding in over his hips when Beau made it down the stairs. “Do you think he knows?”

“He’s thirteen Negan,” she pointed out and Negan gazed back over his shoulder at her, his expression showing that he didn’t know how to take that answer. “I’m pretty damn sure he knows.”

“I told you he was fucking perceptive,” Negan grumbled under his breath and stepped back toward the stairs that led toward the attic. “I should go get dressed.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed with him, not sure how to respond to things. Going to head back into the bathroom, she felt Negan grabbing a hold of her wrist to pull her back to him. Cupping her face in his large hands, he urged her to him so he could leave her with a lingering kiss that took her breath away. “Negan?”

“I just want you to know that I don’t regret this,” Negan whispered, drawing his thumb across her bottom lip, his head shaking from side to side. “Even if my son figured this whole thing out. I’m not ashamed of this. I never will be. I fucking love you.”

“I love you,” she whispered, accepting another quick kiss from Negan. After he headed up the stairs she went back into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Resting back against it, she took a minute to gather herself. She hoped that Beau didn’t think that she was doing everything that she was because of her relationship with Negan.

----

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

[64-jungle-planks]

Night at the Museum: Redesigning Characters 1/4(?)

Character profile: Frank "Noses" Capone

This character is based off of and takes inspiration from the historical Frank Capone.

Real Name: Salvatore "Frank" Capone

Nickname and Meaning: Noses - He got this nickname from being inquisitive and being unafraid to stick his nose into other people's business, even if it gets him into trouble.

Age: 28 (July 16, 1895)

Time Period: Frank is from America's Prohibition in the 1920s, to be exact, hes from April 1st, 1924 Chicago, just before he and a group of Mafioso's went to the polling station near the Western Electric Hawthorn plant.

Family: James "Jimmy" Vincenzo Capone, Raffaele "Ralph" James Capone, and Alphonse "Al" Gabriel Capone + Three younger brothers and one sister that wasn't brought back.

(Headcanons under the cut)

Based on/taken from History:

involved in the Five Points Gang with mobster John Torrio as a kid

Rumored to be queer because he never had an open interest in women/having sex with women like his brothers

Had a kid??? But then took it away from his fiancé??

Nickname was Noses?

Smartest of the eldest Capones

Killed when 70 plain clothes police officers arrived at W 22nd St & S Cicero Ave, Cicero, IL 60804 on April 1st, 1924. He didn’t have time to pull his gun out and was shot so many times, two other bystanders were killed/injured

described as mild-mannered, intelligent and immaculately-dressed

Thought to have ordered 500 deaths since joining the Chicago outfit (1919-1921 to 1924)

“you never get no talk back from a corpse”

+ Intelligent + Social + Hard-working - Quick to anger - Unstable moods

My own silly headcanons:

Can be level-headed, but usually his anger gets the best of him.

His presence calms Al down a lot. His brother really loves him and missed Frank. Frank reminds Al of simpler times when they’d run errands for their old boss Torrio… now Al’s boss.

Represented by clover/clubs. The club symbol represents the summer season and the earth element. The club suit in cards indicates youth, a phase when a person focuses on education, and recklessness.

Frank has matching pins with Al, Jimmy, and Ralph, each brother taking a playing card suit. The brothers made them together with old scrap metal they found in the Navy yard.

Sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong. He likes putting himself in the middle of gossip circles. When he’s not purposefully antagonizing Napoleon to get a reaction, they get along really well because of this.

Wiggles his nose when he thinks hard

Tallest of the Capone brothers (6’1)

Broken out of the museum in search of the closest liquor store out of pure boredom. They tried to pay with greyscale $50s and promptly got kicked out.

A little bit of a sadist.

Gets very violent when he’s upset and enjoys it. Frank doesn’t usually feel bad about his previous actions

Frank: My furby died in my arms when I was a child Ivan: I’m sorry to hear that..? Frank, grinning and joking slightly: Don’t be. I’ve never felt more like a god.

He’d be on Booktok

Like his brothers, Frank will flirt with anyone. Unlike his brothers, Frank is mostly doing it to tease and have fun.

Sucker for hallmark movies

Jerma vibes

His ears turn red when he lies (credit to @frombottlealleytotheharbor for this one)

Frank’s Tommy is a replica whereas his Smith & Wesson Model 10 is from a photo/cutout. His Tommy doesn’t work at all, but his handgun can- he just doesn’t have any bullets.

The Model 10 is named Peggy and the Tommy is Doll

….. don’t call him Frankie unless your family.

Jimmy Consentini belongs to @all-yn-oween. I had to draw him and Frank together because (I think) they both have two-piece suits.

Plain clothes Napoleon is inspired by this and something I have scheduled.

Al, Ralph, Napoleon

[alwaysteveswife]

Hi!! I loved your steve harrington fic, and I wanted to request a jonathan byers x reader slowburn angst to fluff, where they've both love each other but reader thinks he likes nancy and starts pulling away? Thank you :)

To happiness | Jonathan Byers x Fem! Reader.

Note: This is my first request, thanks anonymous person, I hope you like it as much as I liked doing it 🥲.

Jonathan and Y/N have been friends since they were 8 years old, both have seen the other suffer and be happy, but all this relationship that they worked so hard to achieve begins to jeopardize after she discovers some photos of Nancy among Jonathan's polaroids.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, a very fluffy Jonathan (sorry, it's unintentional 😞 fluff is my passion next to angst), Y/N being a little bit cruel to Jonathan, bestfriends to lovers, mention of Nancy's photos at Steve's house.

Number of characters: 10,609 (It's the longest thing I've ever written in my life lmao).

1975

"What are you doing?" muttered Y/N, staring at the small, thin boy crouched in front of a pile of dirt.

"I'm watching the bugs" it took a moment for Y/N to understand what he said, the boy was speaking too softly.

"Why?" she crouched down to be at his level, looking at the pile of dirt and the little ants that were coming out and going in and out in a row.

"Because it's interesting" he pointed to the little insects, showing how they were helping each other to carry food to the anthill "They're like one big family."

"You don't have a family?" She patted his back gently when she heard no answer "It's okay, mommy says family can't always be blood" she smiled, looking at the boy happily "your friends can be your family too."

"I don't have any friends" he looked at Y/N sheepishly, a small blush peeking through his chubby cheeks.

"Then I'll be your first friend" a childish giggle came from her as she stood up energetically. "I'm Y/N."

"Jonathan" a small smile peeked on his face, almost invisible, but it was enough to make Y/N's inexperienced and innocent heart feel warm.

1980

"What do you think of this one?" Jonathan stretched out a polaroid of Will's birthday. The picture showed the boy's friends and the gifts each had given them, they were smiling with excitement, it was too cute.

"I like it, he looks happy" he smiled, setting the photo apart from the others "Did you take more?" She knew the answer, but she enjoyed listening to him talk about something he was as passionate about as he was about photography.

"That's right" he nodded, leaving a small stack on top "I took a lot, I wanted to record their happiness, and what better than a photograph?"

Y/N looked at it intently, feeling a churning in her stomach and a pang in her chest. She had never paid much attention to that feeling that was slowly growing, but lately it was getting harder and harder to ignore it.

She shook her head, hoping that this would erase those useless and meaningless thoughts. She picked up the stack, going through them one by one. They were all beautiful, that was a fact, her favorites were where the kids were out playing with Will's new gifts, or the ones where Jonathan's mom was smiling at the sight of her son, highlighting his already existing beauty.

"I took some pictures of you" Jonathan cleared his throat, Y/N wondered if it was because of the tremor in his voice "I thought your parents might like to have them."

"That's very nice of you" she smiled sweetly, that kind of smile she only shared with Jonathan "Can I see them?"

He nodded, still nervous. He got up from the floor, rearranging his pants and walking over to his nightstand. Y/N took to watching every move he made in that small period of time, wondering why Jonathan's strange attitude.

"There aren't many, but I think they're okay" he took a breath, returning with it along with a small metal box. Inside it were four photographs. The first one was a picture of her when she arrived at the birthday, she was a little disheveled, since she had arrived by bike, but she still looked good, it gave her a youthful and boyish touch, as she was; the second one made her let out a laugh, it was her next to one of her favorite kids, Dustin, both of them were out playing making strange and funny faces; the third was one where she was eating cake, she had some on her nose, but it didn't seem to matter at that moment, although if she had known Jonathan would take that picture she would have definitely wiped it right away; and lastly there was the fourth one.

"Oh," Y/N muttered, staring at the polaroid.

"Is that a good 'Oh' or a bad 'Oh'?" He asked uncertainly, drumming his fingers on the bedside table.

"A good one" her cheeks flared quickly, trying to remember when she had taken that picture "I didn't know I looked so good sleeping."

"You always look good" they both looked at each other in embarrassment. Jonathan hadn't thought long before blurting out the answer, and Y/N definitely hadn't expected to hear that.

"Thanks" was all she could say, averting her gaze from the embarrassment that covered her, "I think I'll take all four, I'm sure my parents will love the first three."

"Just the three?" He frowned in confusion.

"The last one I'll keep, as a souvenir" they both smiled, almost as if they were accomplices. "It'll be a souvenir just of us, okay?".

1983

Things in Hawkins were getting stranger and stranger. Kids and teenagers were disappearing, Will had disappeared. When she heard the news, Y/N ran in the direction of Jonathan's house, held him, comforted him and helped him understand that none of this was his fault, played her part as his best friend, and would do it a thousand and one more times if it would help Jonathan.

And that's why she was now standing up to Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High, because she knew her friend would never do something like take pictures of a girl without her permission, at least not in her underwear.

"Jonathan wouldn't be able to do that, much less now" Y/N growled, glaring at Steve.

"Never say never" Steve muttered, tossing a stack of torn photos at Y/N, pictures of Nancy almost unclothed in Steve's room.

Jonathan and Nancy hurried to pick up the photos, before she had to leave along with her idiot boyfriend.

"Why?" she muttered clenching her fists, watching Jonathan from above.

"It's not what it looks like, I promise" he hastened to reply, getting up and putting the pieces of the pictures away.

"Jonathan, that's harassment, what explanation do you have for that?" her voice began to rise in pitch, as did her anger, "your brother is missing and the first thing you do is take pictures of the great Nancy Wheeler?" She ran her hands through her hair, feeling her eyes water, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry" He muttered, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed his broken camera, "I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry too" she replied with a coldness Jonathan had never heard in her before, "looks like I was wrong about you."

1984

It had been almost a year since her fight with Jonathan, it was months of torture where she discovered many things, some good and some not so good.

Will had shown up, they had a funeral for him, buried the coffin and had a talk at Hawkins High about it, all so that, some time later, he would appear out of nowhere, alive and kicking.

Nancy was still with Steve, but she had become extremely close to Jonathan, and Y/N didn't like that at all, especially when she had discovered how immensely in love she had been with Jonathan for years.

Her selfishness insisted on getting close to him and stop ignoring him, as she had been doing since the pictures, tell him how she felt and let it be what god wanted, if god existed. But, on the other hand, that side of her, a much bigger one, was telling her that she should stay away, that she should let him be happy, because he looked happy with Nancy, and that was the only thing she wanted, his happiness.

"Y/N..." he startled, turning quickly towards the voice calling her name.

"Jonathan" She murmured, tightening the chains of the swing she was sitting on.

"Do you think we could talk?" He stood in front of her, looking like a wet puppy. When he noticed that she didn't seem to want to answer, he went on with what he wanted to say "I know it's been a long time since we last talked."

"I'm pretty sure we didn't talk, you stayed down, I yelled" Y/N corrected, swaying her feet nervously.

"The point is" she changed the subject quickly, clenching her fists at her sides, "this year I had a lot of time to think about me, about you and.... about us."

Y/N brought her feet down to the ground hard, staring at Jonathan intently.

"We?" She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue with his speech.

"You were my first friend, one of the people I've trusted the most" she tried to ignore the pain it caused her to hear him say all that in the past tense, paying attention to every word that came out of his mouth, "and I hadn't realized how much I cared about you until you left."

"Well, I don't want to be anymore" She muttered, lowering her gaze. She missed that time together with him, her best and worst days were by his side, but she couldn't see herself being able to go through with it when she was aware of how she felt.

"I haven't either" he crouched down in front of her, taking her hands, "I haven't wanted it for a long time."

An involuntary sob came from Y/N, feeling her heart breaking into tiny pieces and being stepped on by Jonathan's ugly shoes that he had never cleaned.

"What...were you lying to me all this time? Were you just standing by my side out of pity?"

"No!" he rushed to answer, suddenly sounding more nervous than he had in the beginning "I'm sorry if I made it sound like that, that's not what I meant" she just squinted skeptically, trying to see any trace of lies through his eyes. "What I meant was..." she paused for a moment to take a big breath of air, leaving Y/N even more confused, "I like you, I like you a lot, for so long, and I-"

"What?" she frowned, confusion on every one of her features "But.... What didn't you like Nancy?"

"Why would you think that?" They both looked at each other in confusion now, Jonathan bringing his hand up to Y/N's cheek warily, wiping away a tear.

"Ah, I don't know, maybe why you took a half-naked picture of her?"

"Oh."

"Was that a good 'Oh' or a bad 'Oh'?" she murmured with a hint of grace in her voice.

"A good one" he nodded, a small smile forming on his lips, "those pictures didn't mean anything sentimental, it's a style called boudoir. I know I should have asked your permission, but I didn't want to ruin the moment, it was more of an impulse."

"What about this year? They've been talking a lot" Y/N's nerves began to flood her, that their love would be reciprocated was never in her plans.

"She had been advising me what to do so I could confess" they both looked at each other incredulously for a few seconds, exploding into laughter at the same time.

"I can't believe it" she replied between laughs, wiping the tears from her eyes "You really are an idiot".

"You're not one to say" he shook his head, looking into her eyes with a big smile, "Does this mean you liked it too?"

"You should have known from the moment I kept that picture for myself" she smiled, grabbing Jonathan's jacket with both hands and pulling him to her to kiss him.

Masterlist

[adoracora-elizabeth]

When life interrupts, chapter 9

I am so sorry for being absent for over a week. I had some exciting things happening what kept me from writing. But hopefully you will all still be here to read this chapter.

"But Mama, you cannot ask this of me." Robert sighed. His mother just told him, it was needed he was staying longer in Brussels.

"Robert, you promised to make this a success, I need you to stay longer. And don't tell me you are not having fun with John. You are old friends." Violet sounded annoyed.

Robert just stared at his mother. He really wanted to go back to London. It was not that he did not like Brussels, but he missed the buzz London had. When he opened his mouth Rosamund and Marmaduke came in.

"And Robert? Are you ready to go back?" Rosamund started. "Oh Mama, I didn't see you there." She turned around and kissed her mother's cheek.

"So, you are the one keeping Robert from staying in Brussels." Violet sneered.

"Mama, you and I both know Robert is old enough to make his own decisions." Rosamund answered.

Robert looked at Marmaduke who was standing silently in a corner, trying to be invisible. He himself had learned over the years, to just be silent at moments like this. Rosamund and his mother would bicker for a while and interrupting, would only make things worse.

"You know what Robert." Violet said. "You can go back for a holiday, but I expect you back here in Brussels in two weeks."

"Actually mama, I think that will be even worse. No, I will stay here as you are asking of me, but these additional 6 months on top of the 2 I already spend here are it. In 6 months' time I will go home and you will need to find somebody else to take over my duties here.

+++

Cora walked out of the doctor's office, confused. She was suspecting it already, when she got nausea in the mornings, her period didn't come and her body slightly changed, but even though, now it was confirmed, she could not believe it. Pregnant, she was pregnant. There was only one possible dad and that was Robert. She never shared her bed with somebody else. What was she going to do? She did not know how to come in contact with Robert. She got in the bus to her home.

Back home she made herself a cup of tea and sat down, looking at the picture she got from the echo. She placed her hand on her abdomen, there was a little human being growing inside her. She always said she wanted to become a mother, but never did she think of doing that on her own.

She pulled her laptop close and opened google, there must be a way to find Robert. His family owned a big company, so somewhere on the internet she should be able to find him. She hated it, that she needed to google him. But she needed to tell him about this baby. He had moved on clearly and so did she. No, she should frame that better, she was trying to move on, but she still had a tough time. She missed his voice, his scent.

In the search bar she typed in: 'Robert Crawley' and several hits pop-up. The first one was about his company and what they did. The second talked about Violet Crawley, it turned out she was his mother. She looked at the photo and tried to see Robert in her face. He looked like her and at the same time he did not. She found a picture where he was standing next to his father, mother, and a woman. Cora quickly learned that she was his sister, called Rosamund. She had an extremely sweet face, Cora thought.

She kept staring at Robert, he was standing straight, shoulders back and chin up. His hair was a little bit longer and curled up in his neck. His hair mahogany brown against his blue eyes. Her hand reached for the screen and she wanted to stroke his chin.

The next article she found wrote about him moving to Belgium. Cora's heart sunk. He wasn't in the country anymore and he would not come back for her. He was making progress with his company. He had talked about the plans for expanding the business, but he never had mentioned that it would be outside of the UK. And now he was gone away to Brussels.

Slowly she closed the laptop and stared in front of her. Caressing her abdomen.

"Little one, I guess we will have to go on this adventure with just the two of us. I hope I can be strong for the both of us, I will work hard and provide a home for you."

A wave of panic hit Cora at that moment. She had to go and tell that she was pregnant at Regent's university. They would fire her on the spot. She had just begun teaching at the university and her work at the National Gallery had also picked up pretty well. They would not like it when she was going with pregnancy leave and how was she going to combine caring for a little one and working. Panic was rising in her chest. She could not catch her breath; her chest rose and fell quickly. Way to quickly, she got up and walked towards the front door, she needed fresh air, she thought. Once she was at the door, she was having a full blown panic attack, she managed to open the door, but then sank on her knees, sobbing. Trying to breath, but there was no air coming in. She was sure she was going to die, why didn't she get any air inside her lungs. Her skin was burning and her heart pounded out of her chest.

"Calm down, just take a deep breath." Cora felt a hand on her shoulder. "That's it, breath in… and breath out… And again, breath in … and breath out…"

Cora only saw dark spots in front of her eyes and did not recognize the voice, but she tried to listen. The voice was very soothing, and she noticed that air was coming back into her lungs.

"Good girl, just take in your deep breaths." The voice said, while rubbing her hand over Cora's back.

Once Cora felt steady enough she sat up and looked into the face of her neighbour Rose. "I am so sorry", she muttered.

"No, my darling. Sometimes you need to let it all out. Come let me guide you in, I bet you want a cup of tea."

She was more in need of a cup of coffee, Cora thought, but she didn't say it. "Thank you." She took the arm; Rose offered and followed her back inside her house.

"Now, tell me what happened." Rose said, while giving Cora her cup in hands.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Cursed-3 sisters Trilogy

Chapter 2

Jasmine's meeting

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter 2

 Jasmine’s meeting

Jasmine sat in the dingy dark dining room.. She winced and hissed in pain when she felt the knuckle pop. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was ready to come out of her skin. Johnny and Esmerelda had headed to the betting shop through the mossy green velvet curtains. She sat at the table looking into the fire wishing she could feel the warmth. She shouldn’t be upset coming here. She knew this was the original Arrow house. She’d seen old photos taken here once before everyone really moved up in the crime world. She watched the pattern swirl around her as she mumbled a little spell trying to feel the energy in the house. It told her of loss, pain, ptsd and drug fueled nightmares. She didn’t envy the men that went off to war. These men had seen two horrible battles in World War 1. She shivered, she hated the thought of Sabrina being near this family. Violet had assured them both that if anyone could tame a Shelby, it was the sweetest and softest one of the bunch. Jasmine still wasn’t sure at what price Sabrina had to pay to do this.  She was pulled from her thoughts when the door flung open and her littlest sister flung herself into the doorway with a Shelby 

man clearly following way to close behind her. Sabrina's face was twisted toward the man and she swatted at him. 

“ John, back off! What are we, in  elementary school ?!” She laughed and hit the middle Shelby man in the chest. He wrapped his arms around her and laughed into her neck. They both froze when they sawJasmine.  Sabrina was quick to push him off and stick her foot out to trip him. The man was too stunned to see her action and as he stepped forward tripped right untoJasmine’s lap. She raised an eyebrow and cleared her throat.

“Watch yourself with this one. She’s a trickster.” He laughed easily and stood, straightening his vest and throwing a cheeky look back at Sabrina. He disappeared out of the dining room taking a light presence with him. Once she heard the receding footsteps she turned to the younger girl who hugged her in a tight hug. Once she stood bouncing on her heels Jasmine addressed her sternly. 

“Do we need to remind you of the mission?” Her voice was hard,  taking even her by surprise. She watched Sabrina’s face crumble up and her lip jutted out in a pout. Pain 

flickered across blue and brown eyes.Jasmine sighed. “ I’m sorry Sab, I had my mission take a VERY unexpected turn so…perhaps I’m projecting.” She looked at her still red fingers. Her little sister's hand covered her, causing her to look up. Eye’s still brimming with salt, she saw a small smile on her baby sister's lips. 

“John, he’s like an older brother. He's a teese and he’s easy to get along with. That’s all. “ Her voice was soft but firm. She meant what she said. Sabrina pushed her pale pink skirt out of the way as she sat exposing a slit to her thigh. Jasmines’ eyebrows raised up. It was shocking especially for the time period they were stuck in. “I work directly for Thomas. I help Arthur with the books and Thomas with spells and such” She smiled, lighting up the room. 

“What happened to you?”  Sabrina reached for Jasmine’s hand but the elder pulled it away and hid them in her skirt. She felt a heaviness in her chest. Sabrina stood up abruptly causing Jas to watch her flit around the room. Sabrina was preparing tea, she apparently was very comfortable in this home because she seemed to know where everything was. 

“ Are you living here? What happened to the boarding house.” Jasmine's eyes were wide. Sabrina’s mouth dropped open to reveal a perfect O shape. They needed to have better contact. Sabrina laughed uncomfortably. Apparently they both had some unforeseen setbacks. 

“We'll have a short version and a long version. What do you have time for?” The blonde asked, almost teasing her sister. She knew the answer.Jasmine was noisy, and liked detailed stories of events.Jas's eyes narrowed on her sister as her lips peaked up in a smirk. “ The whole story.” The tea kettle whistle let out a sharp squeal startling them both. They jumped and let out a little squeal of their own and tumbled into a fit of laughter. This was going to be a good day.

________________________________________________________________________________

Jasmine was in tears from laughing so hard. She missed Sabrina’s lightness. She felt so suffocated with Johnny and his other wife. 

“What happened to you?” Sabrina could read the pain on Jas’s face. She held her sister's hand tightly as tears came spilling out. Jasmine could feel a tightening in her chest and throat as she started to speak.

“I botched the whole thing. I got turned around, ended up in a different camp than the Lee’s and wound up being a second gypsy witch wife to a goofy but nice man who goes by Johnny Doggs.” Jasmine broke much to her dismay. She sobbed with her head in her hands.

She buried her face in her hot scalding tears and she felt Sabrina’s long arms wrap tightly from around her. 

“Hey, hey, you didn’t fail. We all said whatever happened was meant to be right?” Her voice was soothing but Jas’s anger kindled. 

“Easy for you to say, Sabrina.” It spat out like molten lava. The younger girl recoiled back as if burned. She may have been. Jasmine was known for her temper, magic could physically make it manifest. “ His other wife, Esmeralda, is a black magic witch.” She heard the gasp behind her. Both ladies knew sooner rather than later a price was paid for black magic. “ She’s nice enough but…”Jas sniffled and stood up pushing the chair and Sabrina back from her. “This wasn’t supposed to be how it goes. I feel trapped and useless, I have no way to contact you two on the road and I’m suffocating.” Her voice rose and trembled with anger and pain. She hated failing, she couldn’t take it when something was her fault. This was all a huge mistake. Stupid Violet for suggesting that if they were all together things could be good and safe. She lied, all for the sake of escaping her own pain!

“Jas, Breathe, I have a solution to one problem….maybe the other too.” Sabrina extended her hand. Jasmine begrudgingly took it and felt the anger swiped out of her and cast into the flames. The orange heat roared and flicked before dying back down. Sabrina had taken the pain and flung it out of her.Jasmine gave a ragged breath and thanked her sister. 

“What do you propose?” She asked bitterly. Sabrina smiled and produced a crystal ball from the table behind her. ”Violet and I wired it at our last meeting so it can act like a skype call. It’s misty but it works. You can hear clearly. I’m glad you are here so I can finally keep in contact with you.” Jas twisted and turned it. She glanced at Sabrina unimpressed.

“Just repeat this incantation and say our names.” Jasmine took the little scrolled up paper from Sabrina and kept repeating the words. Magic worked best if you memorized it and hid it in your heart. 

“Thank you Sab, I’ll try it tonight.” She said half heartedly. She meant it and her sister knew it. She was just depressed feeling like she was the one who messed it all up. She also wanted words with Violet. She sat down and took a swing of her now cold tea just happy to be with her family. 

The door slammed open and a large energy filled man came strolling through the doorway. His presence filled the room with power and frigid energy. His cold blue gaze settled on the elder sister and his eyes tightened. 

Without turning his attention or head he addressed Sabrina. “ I thought you were on a quick lunch?” His voice was flat but the words were heavy. He wanted her back to whatever task he was working on with her. 

“This is my sisterJasmine.” Sabrina motioned to the elder woman who sat still just taking him in. He was as imposing as his photos made him seem.  “She needed to talk. How's your meeting with  Johnny?”  Sabrina’s head was tilted up looking at the scary man with…devotion? Her sister's gaze and tone was soft and buttery. The man smiled slightly and looked down at her, running his large hand over her hair before settling his right hand on the back of Sabrina’s chair. She was taming the lion….the devil of Birmingham was sweet on her little sugar cube of a sister. 

“Is she also a witch?” His tone was amused. His eyes never left her brown ones. She shuttered. God, what was with the aggressive eye contact? 

“Yes I am.” She countered. Now ready to address him with her own confidence. If he was offended or amused neither showed on his face. 

“Good, Sabrina,” He glanced down at the blonde woman and leaned down slightly almost nose to nose with her. “ I need you to get back to work. Spells don't weave themselves and we have a horse that needs to win on Saturday.” His tone was commanding and his gaze was heavily set on Sabrina. 

“He needs a name or it won’t work.” Her sing song voice flooded the room. Thomas sighed as the blonde rolled her eyes. What she said was true. Spells only work if you have a clear vision and a name…

“Name him whatever you want, I don’t care.” His flippant and annoyed tone caused Jasmine to tap the table hard to get his attention. Lightning raced between the two brunettes. Each with a claim over the young witch apparently. “ Fine, I don’t know….Morrigan boy, oi.” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was coming undone. Jas laughed, she knew the effect Sabrina could have. Thomas looked at her again. She hated his gaze, God she was glad Sabrina had to deal with him.

“I can help, go get my sister's wife. “ Jasmine bent down to grab stuff out of her purse she’d discarded on the table when she’d arrived. A giggle burst from his sister as both women looked up at the man. His face was surprised. “ Are you not used to being asked to do stuff?” Jas asked straight forward. Sabrina’s giggles got loader and she clamped her hand over her mouth to smother them as the man glared at her. She couldn’t stop.

“If you would have asked nicely  it would have been one thing. That was an order.” He shook his head before continuing and pointed his finger at her earning her anger. “  I don’t take orders.” He bent over her, trying to intimidate her. Jasmine  snorted a laugh causing his frown to deepen. He hated his authority challenged, he was falling in love with the wrong

family. DeGhant women were known for being loud leaders in the family.  A tiny soft hand wrapped around his and squeezed gently. His eyes rolled to the hand then to her sister's love struck face. 

“Please, it would really help to have another witch, two is good. Three is better.” She smiled sweetly, melting the ice around the man’s heart. He nodded but never took his eyes off of Jasmine until the door closed. The air in the room went with him. Both girls giggled in nervousness. 

“You know, we could have just rang Violet.” Jasmine held up the crystal ball. Sabrina shook her head smiling.

“Violet fell in love with Mr. Gold and he with her….I’m not calling in case they are…engaged in amorous activities.” Both women descended into hysterical giggles. The door opened again to reveal the raven hair sister's wife. Her brown eyes gleaming. Esmeralda smiled. They had work to do. 

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

[weakfleshwillingsoul]

if you knew all this why would you post this photo with such a deceiving caption designed to misinform? Where did you pull the word “protecting” from and what did you mean by it? and if youre so well versed then certainly you’ll know a significant portion of those “private grants and loans” came from a construction firm owned by the family of the former Lebanese prime minister Rafik Hariri. It was necessary for the restorers to seek federal permission to begin any restoration work, which was given to them not on the grounds of goodwill but in an attempt to salvage the past reputation of Lebanon as a minority-tolerant country. Both of those facts together negate your claim that the government had no part in the rebuilding of the synagogue. I don’t believe Jews were driven out of their homes by Israeli activity and I certainly don’t believe that the neglect and ruin of every last synagogue in Lebanon is the fault of Israel either - I’m inclined to think it’s due to the dwindling rights and safety of Lebanese Jews since WW2, during which span of time Jewish property was confiscated, ability to work was restricted, and expulsion of Jews from government positions took place. In the same decade that your news article insists that Jews experienced no harassment, several leaders of the miniature Jewish community were executed by Hezbollah. And yes, I would expect it to have no roof, seeing as a period of neglect of over three decades took place before anyone thought to restore it. But I suppose you’d rather I believe that Zionists would bomb an ancient synagogue with the deliberate intention to destroy it … sure. Nice try

As an aside note, I see now that you stole the image and title almost verbatim from a 6yr old reddit post … go figure. and I guess did not deem it important enough to do all that research before you uploaded it. Also, one source from the New York Times does not qualify as effective or credible research. Any academic could tell you that

Palestinian militants protecting the Maghen Abraham Synagogue in Beirut from attacks during the Lebanese Civil War. The synagogue stood from 1925 until the IDF bombed and destroyed it in 1982

[wornoutmouse]

I don’t know how to ask you this bestie 😩… But if you write incest do you mind doing one where all might’s daughter has a crush on Endeavor? And they both smash her… Feel free to make it stepcest if that’s more comfortable 🥲

DON’T BESTIE ME YOU FREAK!!!!-

Anyways, congrats on being my FIRST controversial ask. That being said, it took me a while to figure out whether or not I would write this one 🤔. Of course, this will be one of the ones I won’t be able to post on Wattpad lmao, but I’ll give it a go!

If you didn’t already read the request, I will give you the necessary warnings again.

tw: incest….. never thought this day would come, dp

Author's annual moral PSA: I would hope I wouldn't have to tell yall I don't condone this irl. This is both illegal in many states, and in all ways an abuse of power and trust. Not to mention no one should look at their family members in this way and if it has happened to you don't be ashamed of it as it is not your fault but seek help because it is dangerous in the long run. This is for pure fantasy purposes

You are not underage in this fic. I never do underaged work.

There is way too much plot in this

Your cheeks were stretched wide enough to rival your fathers’ as you ran home. Your feet bounce and your pull at your braids nervously as you look out the window of the train, the excitement you felt made you restless to get home. Your neighbors watched you as you ran by, dents caused by your shoes hitting the pavement as your quirk flowed through your pumping blood. “Dad!”

You slam your front door open and scramble through the labyrinth of your rich home. Tossing open your father’s office door unaware of how your outburst startles All Might. “Y-Yes what is it?” Papers flutter all around as you carelessly glide through Toshinori’s neatly stacked papers. You slam the slightly crumpled papers onto his desk, ignoring how the sheer strength of your hand nearly causes his cold cup of coffee to fall. “Remember how 3rd years get the chance to have the first pick in finding the company they’ll sidekick for?!”

All Might watches you with fondness in his eyes as he cleans his glasses off. He was now far in his years, a healthy 82. His hair was now less of a golden yellow and more of beige as it silvered slowly. He was still his normal towering height, retained much of his muscles, and could periodically assume his big form now that he finally had the time to rest and heal properly. “You mean the program that you talked about every day because it was free.”

You roll your eyes, “Free for me, not for you. Anyways look, look, look!” You hold the paper in his face and he takes it from you, “I see you were accepted into your first choice at-” You snatch the paper from him and hop around excitedly, “-At Endevā Jimusho And that’s not even the best part!” All Might's contempt face drops, “All sidekicks get to stay in a guest house in close quarters with Endeavor himself!!"

Joy no longer existed in Toshinori's emotional library. "Absolutely not." Your face falls and your rant halts completely. "What?" Yagi puts his glasses on and shuffles through his papers stiffly, "I do not agree on Endeavors training methods." You raise an eyebrow, "Is this coming from the man that punched Pro-Hero Dynamite and Deku into buildings during an emergency villain drill? In front of everyone?"

Yagi hides his face behind a stapled packet, "I was giving them a taste of reality, a villain does not care for a hero's well-being." You sit down on his desk, legs crossed before curling your finger over his paper, your eyes miss how AllMight briefly glances down, “Yes, but isn’t it a job as a hero to protect people, even the students they train?” Yagi craned his neck until it makes a satisfying crack, a smirk adorning his lips. “I suppose you are right.”

He thinks for a moment before silently shuffling his papers before returning his gaze to your hopeful face, “Why should I assist you with your obvious little crush on my coworker?” You clearly stiffen “Well if it will make you happy-” You don’t allow him to finish before your arms around his shoulders squeezing his neck with most of your strength.

AllMight watches you leave his room slightly disheartened, reaching into his desk drawer he pulls out his phone and dials. “What do you want?” AllMight leans back in his chair pulling at his pants to loosen the tension in his groin, “A proposition.”

The next day Yagi is driving you to your new home for the next 6 months. Your eyes glaze over with futuristic thoughts on how your stay would be. “Everything is so shiny!” Yagi shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot. Enji was always minimalistic when it came to modern designs.” Your head snaps to Toshinori’s side of the car, “His name is Enji!?” Your question is laughed off as Toshinori shuts the car off.

Although your amazement is captured solely by the prospect of working with a pro-hero, the fact that your father is a pro-hero does not go unnoticed by the people around you. “Is that AllMight!” “Should I ask for his picture?!” Even with Yagi’s shadow enveloping your body your attention hones in on the automatic glass doors in front of you.

Inside there is a crowd of students experiencing orientation and getting assigned their respective dorm and possible roommate. You take your first steps in their direction before your arm is pulled and Yagi dawns a playful grin as he presses his finger to his lips. You follow him, eyebrows furrowed “You aren’t trying to change my mind are you?” You don’t get an answer as you are dragged along.

Stairs after stair you follow your father until you come to the very top, legs throbbing but interest peaked. Yagi opens two double doors as easily as breathing and your eyes go wide as the broad shoulders of a familiar hero come into view. “You’re finally here, took you long enough.” Your heart beats in your chest, auburn hair, broad shoulders, and a stoic face that you’d only seen on television, now present in front of you. Yagi shuts the door causing you to jump, “Oh um hi!” A large hand touches your shoulder making you jump” Calm down Y/n!” A cheerful exclamation rings out from above you as Yagi transforms into his larger form.

Heavy footsteps make the room shake wherever the two men walk around the room, “I heard you wanted to meet with me.” Your demeanor goes from uneasy to panicked giggling, “O-Oh really, who told you that!’ AllMight chuckles before patting your head, why don’t you ask him all the silly questions you want, I have to use the restroom.

Endeavor leans against his desk, arms crossed allowing his muscles to bulge through his white button-up shirt. “Yagi tells me a lot of good things about you.” Endeavor stands straighter, a ballpoint pen in hand before he gestures for you to take a seat. You settle in the seat glancing towards the door before looking up at Endeavor who settles on his desk. “What’s the matter, you seem nervous?” The deepness of his tone sends a shiver down your spine. Shifting your legs closer together you clear your throat, “I’m just not used to meeting my childhood hero in person.” Endeavor laughs in a way that sounds more like a bellow, “When you say it like that I feel old!”

Your face hadn’t stopped burning since you entered the room but the joke forced a chuckle through your lips allowing you to relax just a little bit. Calculating eyes narrow, making you feel even smaller than you already did in the hero’s presence. “Now, come on. I’m sure you have something you’d always wanted to do if you met your hero.” Endeavor’s happy-go-lucky attitude catches you off guard as it juxtaposes the hardened persona he had cultivated over the years. “Well, I suppose a picture would be a start if you don’t mind?”

Seconds later you somehow find yourself in Endeavor's lap as he holds the camera up for a picture. His body is unpainted hot but you assume that was simply just a side effect of his quirk. “Um, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Endeavor hums in acceptance. A heavy arm loops around your waist pulling you closer, close enough to become aware of a problem pressed gently against your ass. “Oh!” Endeavor’s fingers slipped pressing the capture button, “What’s wrong did I do it wrong?” You shake your head becoming embarrassed for the both of you, “Nothing!” Enji’s voice lowers into a mumble that reverberated against the back of your neck, “Good.”

Enji straightens his arm once more to retake the picture and you awkwardly smile into the camera, grin becoming strained when he had yet to snap the photo. You shuffle the slightest bit to get a more comfortable position and a guttural groan is released from Enji’s lips. "Are you alright, Endeavor?" Your question is ignored and your phone is put down on the table. Large hands contrasting unbridled power is your stomach delicately as though you were made of porcelain. "Are you sure there is nothing else you'd like to do with your hero?"

Endeavors face nudges away your braids allowing him to press his heated mouth against your skin. "Nothing that would help you get to know them better?" You don't get to respond, your body is hoisted around to face Endeavor. Why nervousness clearly painting itself on your features before being overcome with confused pleasure as Endeavor pressed his lips against your own.

You moan against his lips, hips grinding against each other, the thought of where you are slipped past your mind and to your pussy. Endeavors hands down your body, pinching and pulling before sighing with his calloused fingernails. You couldn't believe this was happening, you feel your pants being pulled off. Just yesterday you believed that you would only be able to meet your hero in passing. Your bra is on the floor and your pussy weeps against his slacks.

The motions are fast-paced and you feel his thumb pressing against your clit. “Yes!” Endeavor kisses your lips, his stubble scratching your cheeks slightly as his tongue explores your mouth. Confidence floods your body as you hop off of Endeavor's lap and quickly undo the buttons of his slacks, he watches you out of breath in the best way.

Thick in your hands, the veins twitch to the tune of his blood. The clear stickiness of pre-cum coats the underside and you use it to stroke his length. "Please fuck me Endeavor!" You look up at him, face contorted with desperate thoughts as you angle your body towards his cock, the tip of it rubbing against your folds. You were wet, so wet making the fuchsia tip of his cock feel more engorged.

"Don't regret this. "You’re pulled back into his lap with ease, pussy trembling from the display of strength. With Endeavor holding your weight and your hand positioning his length below you, the slide down was easy as it could be. Your legs wrap around his waist as you adjust to him. “We have to be quick.” Endeavor rolls your hips when your breathing becomes even again, “We have all the time in the world.” You smirk trailing your finger up Enji’s chest, “What, you have a thing for getting caught?”

Your cheeks are spread apart by Endeavor’s fingers as he hooks one into the small slit left remaining in your pussy. “Something like that.” From behind you the sound of the door shutting makes your neck quickly craned around to look back. Standing with his arms behind his back and an unreadable expression stood Yagi, “Am I missing the party?” Ashamed excuses leave your mouth, tearful and panicked you squeal when Endeavor raises your hips before sliding you down his cock. “No, you are just in time.”

Yagi slowly removes the suit he wore, shrugging off his suit jacket as the sound of your muffled whimpers filter through his ears. You hide your face, curling into Endeavor’s form but a hand stops you, gripping your face, “Don’t be shy, it was his idea after all.” AllMight chuckled, “Yeah, it took a lot of convincing on my part.”Long fingers wrapped around the base of your skull where your braids connect before yanking your head back.

Toshinori looked down at you, face stoic and mockingly disappointed, "I thought it would take a lot more convincing but look at you. " Yagi dragged the back of his hand around your jaw and down your chest ripping the fabric with ease. Your tits bounced on every thrust that Endeavor continued to make, wordless moans and drool leaving your moan as your pussy clenched around the cock inside you.

"Such a little whore for him aren't you?" You shake your head in protest before your eyes widen as chapped but soft lips are placed over yours. He was kissing you, your brain short circuits as his tongue forces its way past your lips. It's wrong, you know that. Hell, this whole situation is wrong. You should be downstairs with the others doing orientation, not upstairs riding the cock of a pro-hero and french kissing the other. You knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so good?

Endeavor groans at how sloppy you were becoming. The sound of your pussy squelching as cream gathered around Endeavor's cock before being pushed back inside of you. "So both of you are twisted in the head." A large thumb presses down on your clit making your pussy spasm as you cum from the heightened stimulation. Endeavor keeps thrusting, his libido unmatched and energy pent up.

Yagi reaches in between the two of you pressing his palm against your pussy as his fingertips graze Enji’s dick on every upstroke. “Are you getting wetter sweetheart? He feels so good doesn't he?" Your mouth is agape and your weak hands Endeavor's shoulder is the only thing keeping you upright when your eyes roll back. "Y-Yes daddy!" Yagi wheezes before he's fiddling with his suit pants and pulling you back by your hair.

It was a strange display of balance on your end. Endeavor’s arms hold your legs tightly in order to keep you on his lap and on his cock meanwhile you are as your father slaps his hardened cock against your cheek, splashing his precum onto your chin. "I got you this far dear, why don't you return the favor?"

Whether it was diluted senses or your subconscious coming forward, you open your mouth for him, moaning as he invades every crevice of your jaw. Your throat constricts and you retch around the warm heat. Yagi is unapologetic and downright brutal as he pulls back before bringing his hips forward again.

The two men's moans empty into the office room and your garbled cooking is ignored as they both have their fill, leaving you to wonder if this really was for you. Numbness invaded your senses as you come again on Endeavor's cock with him not that far behind as he blows his load into your pussy. "It's been a while I will admit." Endeavor slaps your pussy once, then twice just to feel you squeeze down on him every time your hips jerked.

Tears and drool running down your face the faster your father fucks your throat and you knew you'd be sore the next day. "My turn." All Might pulls out and walks away not even showing you a glance as you choke from the lack of oxygen. Enji helps you sit up and wipes your face before Toshinori is pulling you away from Endeavor showing no care that his cock was still in you. He sits down and pulls you onto his own lap ignoring your dazed look as your brain struggles with the various changes of attitude.

"You gotta thank daddy for helping you meet your hero, don't you think?” His hand cups your round cheeks before the other slams down on the other one. Overestimated tears tremble down your brown skin as you hiccup, "Yes daddy." You rock against his cock, both your saliva and his own precum staining your stomach and public hair.

He fills you, even better than Endeavor did, and begins his onslaught of thrusts. You scream, the sound no doubt traveling outside the room, "Daddy please fuck me!!!" The speed at which you were moving was one that could only be done by a hero and it was more pain than pleasure. The constant pounding of your cervix makes your teeth clench together each time his mushroom head punches it.

"Yes, give daddy this sloppy pussy, squeeze down for me-oh fuck!" Lewd words you never even believed Yagi was capable of saying leave his lips. Your shoulder is bit by the redheaded man behind you as he cups your breasts together, tugging on your nipple before rubbing the nubbed patterns on your areolas. "I can't take it any more daddy please!" Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he causes your pussy to queen and cream, balls slapping the underside of your ass, sticky with Endeavor’s cum.

"This is what you raised Yagi? A little whore?" Yagi chuckles, "I'm just as surprised as you are Enji, say why don't you join? You aren't one and done are you?" Endeavor scoffs, you wish that upon me don't you?"

Your mind, altered with lust, does not understand the hidden meaning behind the word "join" but you soon realize it when fat fingers are pushing their way in the same hole Toshinori occupied. "E-Endeavor?" You're shushed as his fingers pump inside you with Yagi’s cock, curling and prodding your walls at every turn. You feel fuller than you ever thought you could and the pressure only continued.

"Look at my pretty little girl taking her daddy's cock, so fucking tight for me. Can you do this for Endeavor too? Fit both our fat cocks in your hero guzzling hole?" You nod at the degradation and feel the warmth from Endeavor envelope your back. His tip massages the stretched opening as Yagi stops thrusting for a moment.

There is silence, and then there is pain. You hardly feel the initial penetration of Enji’s cock, but you do feel it when Yagi tries to move again. You can hardly breathe between the sandwich the 3 of you created and your comfort is practically ignored as they both begin to move at opposite tempos. “O-oh god!” With your eyes screwed shut and mouth agape the two men grunt against your ears.

Your g-spot and cervix are both pushed against as their thrusts become more impersonal. Endeavor grabs your arms from around Yagi’s neck before pulling them behind your back. Your legs tremble uselessly around Toshinori’s thighs. His breath huffing the more he exerted himself steam easily slipping from his lips the faster he went. “I’m gonna cum!” Endeavor grunts, pistoning out of you even faster than he was before. A hand rests on his shoulder and he’s shoved back making you whimper from the partial emptiness. “Not inside bastard.”

Yagi becomes his gental self again as his still hard cock slips from your entrance. He places you on the ground giving you time to prop yourself up before grabiing his dick and stroking it infront of your face. You are to fucked out to do anything but present yourself as a pretty little canvas as his cum paints your face. You lick the small drops painting your chin before flashing a coy smile, “Thank you Daddy!”

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ "the next time i see you, it'll be in hell" / "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me"

♡ pairing: connor kent (superboy/RotS) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / i was listening to 'esa hembra es mala' by gloria trevi so if you do speak spanish, that's a song rec while you read this fic. if you don't, listen to 'hermit the frog' by marina instead!

"connor please, you're giving ME a headache and it's only seven in the morning," his friend, jake, spoke as his hands covered his face, "wait, shut up, who is that?" connor asked, seeing you with a few friends.

jake sighed, "that's ( your name )," he spoke softly, "she's friends with everyone here. some like her, some can't stand her. it all depends on how she feels with you." you were schools resident 'popular' girl and had a bit of a following among your class.

"i'm gonna go talk to her," connor said. his friends eyes widened, "connor no!" jake screamed, grabbing his friend and pulling him back, "she's a complete bitch, don't do it!" jake exclaimed as he could tell that everything he was saying was going over connor's head.

you fixed the newspaper that had superboy's face plastered on the cover, "i just think that superboy could beat robin if i'm being honest. PLUS he's attractive because you can actually see his face," the day old conversation between you and your friends about who was the better sidekick struck up again and anyone who knew you knew how much you adored superboy.

"hey ladies," you turned to look at the boy, confused on who he was as you had never seen him around school. you gave him a small smile, "uh, hi?" you asked, "do i know you?"

the boy who approached you was wearing sunglasses which threw you off considering your school didn't allow anyone to wear them inside the building. you looked to his other friend, recognizing him as someone you had in your Calc class.

"just wanted to introduce myself, i'm connor," he said, giving you a sly smirk. you shook his hand, half awkwardly, "please i'm ( your name )," you replied as you saw the way connor gave jake a wink, "is there something you wanted or?" you asked again, not knowing why he was still here.

"no, just wanted to say hi to my future girlfriend," you let out a laugh, catching everyone off guard, "please, as if," you replied as you grabbed your friends and walked away, kind of taken back by the new boy.

"he was kinda cute," one of your friends said as you rolled your eyes, "uh, not really? kinda weird if you ask me," you replied, looking down at the newspaper, "well, i'm going to class, see ya," you said, walked towards your AP Lit class.

you sat down in the front, immediately talking to the friends you had in the class. it wasn't even five minutes later when connor entered the class, immediately smirking when he saw you. you growled, instantly annoyed at his expression.

"ah, so you've met the resident new boy?" you nodded as your friend giggled, "he's really nice. made more than a friends already," she said as you shrugged, "okay and? he had a lot of nerve coming up to me and telling me i'd be his future girlfriend," you replied.

she let out a belting laugh, "yeah, he told meghan from fifth period the same thing," you saw connor walking up to your desk and before he could make himself comfortable next to you, you instantly put your leg on the chair, "don't even think about it," you said, not even looking at him, "the desk in the back is available though," you smirked as you watched your teacher roll her eyes at your attitude.

connor bent down to your level, "don't gotta be so hostile, sweetheart, i know you like me," he whispered before getting up and leaving.

your friend, looked at you, laughing at disbelief at both of your attitudes. you rolled your eyes, trying to pay attention to the discussion as you could feel connor's eyes on you almost the entire time.

+

throughout the weeks and going into months, your relationship with connor didn't change. he arguably became the biggest pain your ass from the beginning of the day until the final bell rang. he managed to befriend a few of your friends which meant that you were around him at times.

you sipped your coffee as you were reading the newest article on superboy, "ah, ah, ah, what do we have here?" connor asked, taking the magazine from your hand, "superboy fan, huh?" he scanned the cover, a smug smirk coming onto his face as you snatched the magazine back.

"yeah, someone who's actually useful in life," you replied as he walked with you to your locker. he had never saw the inside of it and taken back by the amount of photos you had....of him, "aww, don't be that way, sweetheart! maybe one day superboy will actually give you a chance," he joked.

your annoyance instantly shot up as you slammed your locker and walking away, "see ya later sweetie!" he screamed. you stopped in the middle of the hall and flicked him off, "the next time i'll see you, it'll be in hell!" you yelled, storming off to class.

you walked into class, sitting down as your friend, henry, walked up to you, "hey babe," he said, a warm feeling crossing your face at the term of endearment, "hey henry, what're you up to?" you asked, seeing him looking at you, a bit nervously now.

"i was wondering if you were free-," before henry could say anything else, connor walked up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder. he had heard the conversation between the two of you and knew exactly where it was heading, "uh, she's not interested, better luck next time," connor stated, surprising henry with his sudden angry attitude.

henry knowing he didn't want to risk the chance of getting his ass kicked walked away from the conversation as you stared at connor with rage in your eyes, "what do you want?" you seethed as you saw connor's smirk playing on his face, "you weren't actually entertaining him, were you?" he asked in disbelief, "i literally hate you with every ounce of my being," you blurted, finally sick of connor's attitude.

his mouth hung open as you got up from the desk, "do me a favor and PLEASE leave me alone, that's all i ask," you stated as you walked out of class and deciding to ditch for the rest of the day.

"told you she was gonna blow up," jake informed as he sat down in his seat, connor still standing in place, taking in everything you had said. he knew he was being a bit of an ass but he didn't know you were that angry with him.

connor knew he had to make this up. he genuinely did like you and he didn't want to ruin his chances with you because of his shitty attitude. throughout the class period, he picked his brain for ideas until sirens went off in his head.

SUPERBOY.

he knew you were practically in love with his alter ego and he knew he could use superboy as a way to persuade you into giving him another chance. that is if he played his cards right.

+

you reluctantly showed up the next day, trying to avoid connor as best as you could. you were talking with a few friends, gossiping about the fight that superboy and robin had against a few low level villains in metropolis last night.

"hey, look at connor," jake whispered, seeing his friend practically beat up. you were taken back by his appearance as he had a few bruises on his arms and legs, "are you okay?" jake asked connor.

connor shook his head slowly, his body still recovering from the night before, "what were yall talking about?" he asked, trying to redirect the conversation. everyone looked to you, "someone was gushing about superboy, so please, if you'd continue," meghan said playfully.

"oh shut up, like you don't have robin posters all over your room," you retorted as you watched connor struggling to stay upright, "all i'm saying is that superboy remains the best sidekick there is. did you see the way he walked out of that fight scratchless and look at robin, he nearly died," you continued.

meghan instantly retorted as you noticed how eerily silent connor had became. you turned over to him, about to say something sarcastic towards him until he flopped on top of you, passing out completely. you looked down at him, "connor?" you whispered, "hey connor, wake up," you whispered, shaking him a bit.

"take him to the nurse!" jake yelled at you as you grabbed connor by the arm and pulling him against you, "fuck off, he's heavy as hell," you breathed, trying to steady his weight against you before walking slowly towards the nurse.

you made the walk to the nurse but by the time you made it, connor had woken up, "don't take me to the nurse, please," he whispered, "what are you talking about?" you exclaimed, "you clearly aren't okay and you don't look okay either," you added on.

he steered the two of you to the family bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit, "clean me up here, i really don't want to be questioned right now," he said, nothing cocky or playful in his voice. you sat him on the toilet, bending down to clean his face first, "hey, is everything okay....you know at home?" you asked.

he laughed, shaking his head, "these injuries aren't from my guardians if that's what you're wondering. i kinda got into a fight last night," you stared at him confused, "did you lose or something? these injuries look horrible," you replied.

"course i did, just took a nasty beating before i won," he said as he flinched at the rubbing alcohol hitting his arm. you muttered a sorry as you put a band-aid on a few of his cuts, "listen, i wanted to say sorry for acting like a prick," connor muttered a few minutes later.

you were taken back by his apology, "i knew i was being an ass but please don't take this as me joking but you're actually the best thing that's happened to me since i transferred," you remained silent, not knowing to respond as you put the last band-aid on his knee.

"and if i could have a second chance, that would be super dope, ya know?" he tried to say without sounding nervous, "you better not be joking, kent," you threatened, putting your finger on his chest and shoving him a bit.

connor flinched back in pain as you muttered a sorry, "i'm not joking, i'd really like to take you out for coffee sometime," he asked as he grabbed your hand and gave it a kiss. you agreed as you responded with a kiss on his cheek, "also, i had this lying around my room and figured you'd like it more than i would," he dug into his backpack and gave you a magazine.

your eyes widen seeing what it was. it was the magazine that superboy first appeared in and you had analyzed a few signatures of his to know that it was his signature on the front, "did superboy sign this?" you practically tried to contain your excitement as you ran your finger over the sharpie.

connor nodded, "i met him one time after he saved a few people in metropolis last year and got him to sign the magazine. i figured since you like hm a lot more than i do, you'd take care of it better than i would," overwhelmed with excitement, you grabbed connor by the neck and kissed him.

connor was taken back by the sudden kiss but awkwardly responded with another kiss as you held the magazine close to your chest, "i can't thank you enough for this connor," you whispered, your lips still on his a bit. he chuckled, "just meet me at the coffee shop near the school and that'll suffice," he replied, giving you another kiss before slowly getting up.

"now lets get to our second period before we get marked truant again," he grabbed your hand and held it as softly as possible, "you know how much shit our friends are gonna give us, right?" you said, laughing a bit. connor nodded, "nothing we can't handle," he replied as he squeezed your hand in reassurance.

[tagapagsalaysay]

This is kind of a broad ask ig, but u can tell us more about ur ocs? They all have such interesting and metal designs. Super interested in what appears to be like a whole family?

No worries, i'm in the mood to elaborate

Overall theres this media project that has the working title I hate spelunking, a worldbuilding effort that focuses on a hollow earth world called B* and seemingly normal modern humans. so far ive made different parts in the timeline that have distinct casts and themes

these two (suzy and pascual) belong to the main cast of the main IHS story, the one that starts in the middle of the timeline of B*. The story focuses on the characters understanding the nature of their world and handling their own mental and interpersonal conflicts. I like to think of it as somewhat fantasy math with fantasy psychology (remember that post). A lot of it is stuff i pull from shit in college that interests me.

The premise of this is that theyre deep in a society thats internalized their finiteness but also with the addition of them being a closed system, where theres nothing really on the surface or the outside shell of the planet theyre living in. Maybe they dont even visualize an outside shell at all. However, theres a strange phenomenon where getting your brain locked in a mental spiral, feedback loop, etc. about anything regarding the world and its systems will manifest into reality as.... Something equally wonderful and terrifying :). It's a story about interpersonal stuff and having too much math in your system. Also topology jokes

The inhabitants of B* assume that this phenomenon just happens to "cursed" people, theres a whole bit of questioning where the blame really goes, but its all just a funny whirlwind of people overthinking and im still not sure what medium i would make this in. So yeah.

Suzy and Pascual are unlikely buddies who met at a strange period in the timeline, and suzy has questionable and kind of mysterious origins while pascual is a mailman pretty much. The other characters found on the family image are connected to the deeper inertia of the plot, where they ask the main duo for help with dealing with the "cursed" people.

These two guys are Hopper and Cricket, Irene's go to lackeys who help find the cursed and attempt to help them. They go around and ride a motorcycle and whatnot, but they also have a whole arc about becoming involved in the same phenomenon. Hopper is concerned about being too much of a lead in their team after some developments, and Cricket is worried about making Hopper too much of a sidekick. They have a tight bond, and both literally go by they/them. They also have those cricket bats for the ~Theme~

A photo of the three. Okay. I know everyone is probably hyped for me to explain what irenes deal is in this so i'll try. Irene's totally not a front job is being an archivist and historian for many of the OLD old history of B*, including its origins, its age, and a lot of just what we would call prehistoric in modern Normal Earth History. His presence in the main ihs story develops from a background mysterious force to a full on anti-villain, where his whole "cursed" operation turns for the worst. His knowledge just puts the world at risk by virtue of the overthinking phenomenon, not by choice though. His arc focuses on desperately trying not to cause catastrophic damage with his thinking, but he has to learn a thing or two in the process. He isnt the only person who can cause large scale damage like he can sooo :)

Petra is Irene's sister who also works alongside him as another historian, but has full control of their own thought process. While not completely susceptible to the phenomenon, she does fall short at times of emotional problems. They also work along with cricket and hopper, but her focus is in the clean up of their operation. She is also one of the first people to suspect something different about what B* actually is.

The cursed are designed as "monster" of the week type characters that retain in the cast, but i'll keep those a secret for now :)

Thats some of the main IHS cast so ill explain some of the other timeline stuff. One of the different branching points in the media is a sortnof backstory spinoff for Pascual and why they found themselves doing deliveries up a community that lives vertically. Another is:

Dubbed The Mountain Story as a working title, this story is set centuries before the main IHS story involving a large mountain and a wacky hermit tour guide named Nikki. This one is an experimental short story about nikki and their unique attachment to the local mountain as they lead YOU, a tourist, on a 2-3 hour hike. its one of those writing exercises that go into stuff like summit fever, breaking worldviews, and dealing with psychosis unrelated to summit fever. Nikki is a local tour guide who lives at a hut on a hill wedged to the base of the mountain, carries about 3 walking sticks, and likes to make things on his computer. I dont want to spoil more though, but their story is completely detached to the current IHS story.

The other characters on my post tend to just be one offs for similar "writing exercises", but i might reuse them in the future. hope you liked this whirlwind of a post, because im still churning out more OCs for these funny guys

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

.

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

[adorethedistance]

Baby Fever - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, discussion of reproduction, a child (no-)

Words: 2502

Summary: You and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own.

A/n: This was written in like three hours and I’m exhausted it’s skimmed at best but this is just something I’ve had in my mind and as y’all know by now, writing fics is how I retire my dreamland scenarios of romance. Enjoy my brain giving 82% of her all :)

“You ready, little one?” I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat. Owen and I had been wanting to plan a zoo date for the longest time, but never had the opportunity to until now; when Jer and Carolynn needed a well-deserved day of rest, and Charlie was back in Dieppe for the next month, that left Owen and me as the next in line to take care of 10-month-old baby Shada. The two parents hadn’t decided on a name until after she was born, so the rest of our friends got comfortable with referring to her as ‘baby Shada’ or ‘CJ’ short for ‘Care and Jer’s’ kid.

Owen and I left the house at 8:45 sharp to get to the park in a timely manner. We weren’t too concerned with arriving when the park opened seeing as it was a Wednesday morning in the middle of February. Children should be in school, non-actors should be in the office, and surely other young babies and new moms should be attending mommy and me yoga classes or something.

“Do you have the bag?” I ask, surveying the car for any loose items.

“Yeah, it’s on the floor. Do you want me to carry the bag or the baby first?”

“You babysit first. I can handle tickets.” Owen nods and gingerly unbuckles the car seat to scoop up the currently calm child and slip her into the black baby carrier we opted for instead of a stroller. I put on the backpack with all her baby items and some of our essential possessions, and together we walk to enter the park. CJ is smiling brightly as she takes in all the different sights and sounds of the entrance. The image is just too adorable, I have to make Owen stop under the giant sign to take a picture of the two of them. I send it to both parents as the first update of the day, knowing they won’t treasure the photo as much as I will, because they aren’t in love with Owen in the way that I am.

Owen and I have talked about kids before. Once, on our first date when he asked me if I had any names picked out, which I didn’t. And second, when I informed him we would be entrusted with the care of CJ the following week; it was when we began brainstorming activities to do with her that Owen brought up having our own kids. It took me by surprise that he used the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. A small language thing to pick up on, but a huge life thing to process. He talked about making memories with CJ and being the first ones to take her to the zoo, with the consent of her parents. Truth be told, I don’t love kids or the idea of kids in the way that Owen does, so I was a little hesitant to speak my mind. But I didn’t miss the way he held his hand on my stomach as we fell asleep that night. And I didn’t miss the hopeful glint in his eyes when I’d asked his opinion on a few names I liked the next morning.

“What do you wanna do first, CJ?” Owen’s question elicits an excited squeal from her as a response which makes the two of us laugh. I quickly snag a map from the front stand and survey our route options before I feel Owen’s right hand come to rest on my lower back. I glance up to see him peering at the map over my shoulder. My movement prompts him to face me and give me a soft, comforting smile. I feel like spending forever looking into Owen’s breathtaking eyes, but the baby strapped to his chest has other plans. She begins flailing wildly to convey all the excitement coursing through her little body. We laugh once more and Owen presses a quick kiss to her head, which messes up her hat’s placement on her head. I shake my head, stepping in front of my fiance, completely ignoring him. My tunnel vision hyperfocus is set on adjusting the brim of the bucket hat to protect baby Shada from the sun.

“There we go.” When I look back up Owen is staring at me with the softest closed mouth smile I’ve ever seen, “What?”

“Nothing. Where to, Mamacita?”

“Mamacita? Whatever. I say we take this path that way we can start with the elephants and condors, and that’ll take us to the polar bear cove.”

“Lead the way.”

Owen slips his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers and giving me an affirming squeeze. As we’re walking to the elephant exhibit, CJ’s happy mood means she must wave her tiny hand at every person we pass. Other parents with babies her same age, being the majority of the crowd that’s free on a Wednesday morning, smile and wave back to her. Along the front street, the initial entrance crowd begins to dwindle and there are fewer people for her to wave at. Then, a woman who’s probably in her late forties, early fifties sees CJ wave to her. The woman is wearing black pants, a soft maroon top, and a name tag that reads ‘Linda’. Judging by the fact that she gets to wear red instead of the familiar forest green, I can conclude she’s a higher up when it comes to her position here at the zoo.

“You guys are such a beautiful family.”

“Oh, we’re n-”

“Thank you!” Owen speaks over my refutation. The woman then begins to approach us, and I look up at my serious boyfriend in confusion. He whispers, “Let’s pretend. It’ll be fun.” I mean, I’m not much of an actor but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“How old is she?”

“10 months,” he answers seamlessly, using the back of his index finger to lovingly stroke CJ’s round cheek.

“She is just so darling, I’m sure you two must be very proud. They grow so fast, you know? I remember having little ones running around all the time and suddenly they’re off to college. Is she your first child?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one for now.” For now? Wow Owen, when you create a world you really live in it.

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. They’re only babies for so long.” Linda smiles down and CJ once more before bidding me and Owen goodbye.

“For now?” I ask, incredulously when the woman is out of earshot.

“Yeah,” he shrugs playfully, “CJ’s so well behaved I’m sure we can manage another one.”

“Uh-huh. Are you aware she’s not actually our child?” Owen sighs out a smile and takes my hand as he begins on our trek to the elephant enclosure. When he speaks again, I nearly miss it from how quiet he’s talking,

“S’wishful thinking.”

“What did you just say?” I’m curious to see if he’ll repeat it to my face.

“I said it’s wishful thinking.”

“To have a second child to our nonexistent first child?”

“No,” he nudges my shoulder with his own as we walk, “To have a child period.”

“Nice try. Your baby fever isn’t gonna rub off on me so easily.” He scoffs out a laugh,

“It’s still early. We’ve got the whole day to fix that.” Seamlessly pulling Owen to a stop, I don’t pause our conversation as I step in front of him. My gaze doesn’t meet his eyes as I straighten CJ’s hat once more.

“Well, bear in mind we’re basically on the clock here, and CJ is a tiny person before she’s a persuasion tactic.” I lunge one foot back to make sure the hat is even, and that the baby can still see from under it. When I deem her hat positioning satisfactory, CJ smiles up at me at the same time that paints Owen’s flushed face. He holds his hand straight out in front of his body for me to take, and when I do, he pulls me in to clasp both hands together and rest them on my lower back. Minimal visitors in the zoo is definitely a perk as Owen’s far more physically affectionate without others around. I rest my hands on the portion of his chest that isn’t occupied by CJ’s happy demeanor.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be the mothering type. I’m just not… good with kids.”

“I understand your reluctance… but I’m gonna get you on board by the end of the day.”

“Yeah okay, Joyner. Whatever you say.”

Owen smiles down at me with a love as infinite as the number of stars in the universe. CJ squeals between us and I babble back at her in a higher pitch than my usual speaking voice. She squawks again and we go back and forth like this for a little while until she sticks her tongue out at me in between a smile. My jaw drops in a surprised, amused, and simultaneously offended manner, and I take her chubby little baby foot in my hand and squeeze gently, causing her to screech through fits of giggling.

“When did you learn how to do that? Owen, did you-” The words die on my tongue when I see the expression on Owen’s face. He’s wholly enamored and yet so smug at the same time. I feel my face heat up a little bit; I don’t even have to ask what he’s thinking.

“‘I’m just not good with kids’ my ass.”

“There are impressionable ears around. And I do not sound like that.”

“She’s not gonna remember any of this in a week, and yes. You do.” I glare at Owen with an expression of intolerance but my facade is crumbled as I can’t mask the growing smile he elicits by mimicking my expression.

“Let’s go you two.”

After what felt like an eternity we’ve finally made it to the elephant exhibit. The herd of African elephants are spread across the enclosure, some playing in water, some feeding from hay baskets, and a baby closely following it’s mother as she walks across the paddock. When Owen appears beside me

“Do you need a break? We can switch off and you carry the bag.”

“Sure.” I set the baby backpack on the bench behind us and unbuckle the fastenings of the carrier to prop CJ on the side of my hip. As we wait for Owen to take the carrier off his body, I walk her up to the wooden railing that surrounds the elephants’ enclosure. Of course, the sight ahead excites her and she begins bouncing on my side as a means of conveying her feelings. She makes a sound that I interpret as an interrogative before pointing to the animals.

“You see the elephants, CJ?”

“Uh-huh.” She lifts her tiny baby hand into the air and waves the best she can at the elephants, none of which are even looking our way.

“Are we waving? Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave with her and gauge her smile to be even bigger than when she’d stuck her tongue out two minutes ago.

“Hi ephants!” I freeze mid wave in shock. Did she just-?

“Did you just? Owen!”

“Yeah?” he calls from behind us, still getting all our things in order.

“Did Carolynn or Jeremy say what her first words were?”

“Uhhhh, no. They said she hasn’t been speaking words yet, just consonant sounds,” Owen leaves the items unattended seeing as there’s no one else around,  “Why?”

“CJ. Say ‘hi elephants’!” I wave at the animals once more, praying that that wasn’t a fluke.

“Hi ephants.” Upon hearing her speak, Owen’s face holds the same expression as mine did just two seconds ago.

“Should we video it and send it to them or pretend it never happened so they can be the ones that hear her first words?”

“Take a video, or take a secret to our graves?” He pretends to weigh the options as if this is the most perilous decision we’ll ever make.

“You’re right, you’re right. Will you grab my phone for me?”

“Where is it?”

“My back pocket that the baby is currently sitting on.” I turn around to let Owen grab the device and unlock it for me.

“Should I just get you guys in the video or the elephants, too?”

“What are you talking about? Get in the video!” I scold him for trying to worm his way out of this memory. “Make yourself useful and revive your long lost vlogging skills.” Owen rolls his eyes but flips to the front facing camera and hits record all the same.

“Say ‘hi mom, hi dad’,” I direct CJ and she merely waves at me, not fully understanding the concept of vlogging at the ripe age of 10 months. “Update number 2: we’re at the elephant enclosure and CJ made some friends. Hey,” I speak quietly to capture her attention. “Can you say ‘hi elephants’?”

“Hi ephants!” She screams and then laughs, throwing her head back to make sure Owen is still present.

“A new word!” I cheer as Owen lowers my phone to stop the recording,

“New skill unlocked.” He hits stop and proceeds to trade me CJ for the phone for a quick second so I can send the video to the not exactly new parents.

“They’re gonna love this.” I click my phone off and tuck it back into my back pocket. Retrieving the baby carrier from the desolate bench, I slip it on to strap myself in before CJ. Once secured, I look up to take her from Owen but blink in surprise that they’re no longer standing in front of me. I turn slightly to my left to see CJ stumbling forward on wobbling legs whilst Owen keeps her standing. He removes his hands from her sides and allows her to grab a hold of both of his index fingers in either hand. Slowly, he walks her closer to where I’m standing one tiny step at a time.

The sight in front of me is so sweet there’s a strange feeling culminating in my chest. A micro trace of baby fever crosses my mind at the thought of Owen teaching our own baby to walk. The smile on his face is unlike anything I’ve seen before and the prospect of having kids suddenly becomes less dreary. I’ve always been afraid of being a bad parent, or messing up someone else’s life, but with Owen, all those fears disappear. Becoming a parent is no longer bleak; the thought of raising kids with someone as loving and enthusiastic as Owen, the world seems all that much brighter.

“Y/n,” he calls to get my attention, unaware I’ve been watching for the past few minutes. When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body, and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple, “I told you so.”

***

A/n: lawd help me I have been putting off so many requests to write self indulgent bs pls don’t hate me.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1 @joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @celestialmolina @lilyjoyner

[fanfics4all]

Unknown Weasley

Request: Yes / No  Maybe a Draco Malfoy X Weasley Fem Reader..? Y/N got put into Slytherin (Ginny’s twin) and never really fit the Weasley stereotype. Her family kinda forgot/neglected her and favored Ginny. Then they find out Y/N is dating Draco and they flip and she lashes out at them. A LOT of angst please, tyyyyy 💚🖤 Anon

Requests are open <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Weasley!Reader

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Kind of abuse in a way 

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

When I watched my older brother’s go off to Hogwarts I was so jealous. They got to go off and not be stuck at home being forgotten. I was stuck home being overshadowed by my twin sister Ginny. She was the favorite of the family and everyone always forgot that I was even alive. It was horrible. But when the time finally came to go to Hogwarts I was so excited. This was going to be my time to no longer be forgotten. Ginny got called up before me and she was placed in Gryffindor like all of our family. Then I was called up and the hat was placed on my head. 

“Another Weasley, but you’re different from the rest. Where to put you…” It thought for a moment. 

“I know… Slytherin!” It shouted and my eyes widened. I looked at my family and they had the same shocked expression on their faces. I got off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table with my head hung low. Some people at the table were whispering about me. 

“Isn’t she a Weasley?” 

“Shouldn’t she be put in Gryffindor like the rest of her pathetic family?” 

“What is wrong with her?” I tried my best to ignore them, but I couldn’t. They were right. Great now my family will remember me, but as the disappointment… 

The first year I just kept my head down and didn’t bother with anyone. It didn’t feel that much different than at home. Ginny had obviously told our parents that I was in Slytherin and they were so unhappy they didn’t want me coming home until school was over. When I got home, boy did I get an earful. 

“How the bloody hell could you be a Slytherin!?” My Mother shouted. 

“I didn’t choose to be in Slytherin!” I cried. 

“I bet she did, she’s never been like us.” Ron said and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Go to your room, no supper for you!” Mother shouted and I ran up the stairs. I got shoved into the attic and that’s been my room ever since. I threw myself onto my bed and cried my eyes out, until I fell asleep. 

That’s how the summer went pretty much. My house would be brought up a few times a week and then I would be sent to my room with no food. I hated it. Everything just got so much worse and there was nothing I could do to fix it… 

When it was time to return to Hogwarts I was shocked that my parents actually made an effort to remember to take me back. I walked onto the train and found an empty compartment. I decided that I would get a head start on studying and so I took out my old books and got to reading one. Everything was fine until the train started moving and someone opened the door to my compartment. 

“What are you doing here?” The voice of Draco Malfoy filled my ears. I looked up to see the platinum blonde boy with silver eyes. 

“Um, sitting and studying?” I answered with furrowed brows. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pathetic blood-traitor family?” He asked with a sneer and I rolled my eyes. 

“No, they’re not happy with me.” I answered, looking back down to my book. 

“Because you’ve ruined their perfect Gryffindor line?” He asked with a laugh. 

“Yes actually, so unless you’re going to actually sit in here during the ride, I suggest you fuck off.” I answered without looking up from my book. There was silence and I heard the door close. What I wasn’t expecting was Draco sitting next to me. I glanced up and he was staring at me. 

“Can I help you?” I asked. 

“Your family is honestly upset with you because of the house you’re in?” He asked and I nodded with a sigh. 

“Believe it or not this is the most attention I’ve gotten from them.” I said and his eyes wided. 

“Really? I thought they loved all their children.” He said and I shook my head. 

“No, well I don’t know if they don’t love me, but they certainly don’t like me.” I said. 

“I know what that’s like…” He whispered. 

“What?” I asked and he looked up at me. 

“My Father is quite strict with me and honestly it seems like he doesn’t love me sometimes.” He answered. I closed my book and placed my hand on his. 

“I’m sorry Draco, no one deserves that.” I said and to my shock he didn’t pull away. 

“You don’t either.” He said and I smiled. For the first time in my life I felt happy and like I was seen. The whole train ride Draco and I kept talking about what we were interested in, what we were excited about this year, and about possibly going to Hogsmeade together. Draco even bought me a few of my favorite sweets. I was shocked that the person that was so mean to my family and their friends was being so kind to me. But we understood each other. We were each in similar situations and that seemed to be bonding us. 

I thought that when we finally made it to Hogwarts Draco would go back to ignoring me and making fun of me like everyone else does, but to my surprise he didn’t. Draco actually pulled me to sit next to him and introduced me to some of his friends. They were shocked that him of all people was socializing with a Weasley, but he quickly shut them down. Lucky for me my family seemed to be ignoring what I was doing which meant my parents wouldn’t have another reason to be disappointed in me. 

Throughout that year I started falling for Draco and when the trip to Hogsmeade came around Draco had actually asked if we could consider it a date instead. I obviously agreed and it was perfect. Draco was the perfect gentleman and insisted on buying me whatever I pleased. We first went into Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop and looked around. That’s where we each learned our music taste. Then we went to Honeydukes where Draco spoiled me with my favorite candies. Draco wanted to go into Spintwitches Sporting Needs and he got new gloves for Quidditch. 

“Maybe you could come see the game against Gryffindor this Friday?” He asked and I smiled. 

“I’d love to, only if you promise me that we’ll win.” I said with a smirk. 

“Of course love, I’ll make sure to work extra hard for you.” He said and I blushed at the nickname he gave me. 

“You’re cute when you blush.” He whispered and I blushed harder. He grabbed my hand as we exited the shop. 

“Hungry?” He asked and I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. 

“How about The Three Broomsticks?” He asked.

“As long as we can get Butterbeer.” I said with a smirk.

“Whatever you want love.” He said and pulled me along with him. We each sat down and quickly ordered Butterbeers.

“What do you want, love?” He asked. 

“Hmmm, I think I might order the shepherd’s pie.” I said looking over the menu. 

“You have good taste.” He said with a smirk. 

“Obviously.” I said and flipped my hair with a giggle. He chuckled and moved closer to me. 

“You are so beautiful.” He said and I blushed hard. 

“Would you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend?” He asked and I stared at him in shock. 

“Y-You want me to be your girlfriend? But you could have literally any girl in Hogwarts!” I said and he chuckled. 

“And you’re the one I want.” He said and I smiled. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy wants me. 

“Then I would love to.” I said. Draco’s smile widened and he placed his arm around my shoulder. Our Butterbeers arrived and we each ordered. 

The date went perfect and Draco didn’t want to be shy about our new relationship. He wanted everyone to know that I was now his girl, but I was worried about my family. I convinced him to keep it a secret, but he definitely took risks. When we had off periods together he would pull me into an empty hallway and kiss me wherever he could. 

“Draco we’re gonna get caught one day!” I whispered. 

“And today won’t be that day, trust me love.” He said and went back to kissing my neck. I bit my lip to hold back a moan and he smirked against my skin. 

“Y/N? What in Merlin!?” I heard my sister shout and my eyes widened. I pushed Draco off and we both stared at her. 

“Um… I-” I didn’t know what to say. 

“What are you doing to my sister?” She growled at Draco. He looked at me and I was just standing there in shock. 

“If you must know, I’m kissing my girlfriend.” He answered and pulled me closer to him. 

“What?” She growled, this time looking at me. 

“You’re dating this git!” She shouted. 

“He’s not a git!” I said snapping out of my shock. 

“Have you gone mad?” She asked. 

“No, I’m perfectly sane! Just go on and tell the family about it already.” I said and turned my back to her. 

“Unbelievable…” I heard her say under her breath as she walked off. 

“Are you alright, love?” Draco asked and placed his hand on my arm. 

“I’m fine… They were bound to find out anyway…” I said quietly, but I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. 

“Hey, I know you’re hurt.” He said, walking in front of me and lifted my chin up. 

“It’s alright, love, I’ll be here for you always.” He said and pulled me into his chest. 

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered and I clung to him. 

“I love you too Draco.” I said. 

Throughout the rest of the year Draco and I had become public with our relationship. My brothers and sister sent glares my way and refused to even speak one word to me. Draco was always trying to take my mind off it and keep the smile he gave me on my face. But when it was time to go back home Draco tried to convince me to come home with him. I told him I couldn’t and that I needed to face this. So when my parents picked us up it was dead silent. But as soon as we all entered the house my parents turned to me with the worst expression they’ve ever given me. 

“You are dating Draco Malfoy?” My Father asked. 

“Yes.” I answered. 

“Are you mad? His family is evil!” My Mother said. 

“But-” 

“This is unbelievable, our sister is dating the biggest git in the school!” George said. 

“Maybe he spelled her.” Fred said. 

“With the way I found them, she was most definitely not spelled.” Ginny said. 

“Honestly, after everything he’s said and done to us and you still picked to date him?” 

“Stop it!” I shouted and everyone looked at me. 

“Stop talking about him like that! Draco has been nothing but a gentleman to me! He’s been better to me in this short time than any of you have ever been to me! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I’m not good enough, or like no one can see me! Draco is the first person to actually see me for me and not just another Weasley! He makes me feel special and like I’m not just in the background!” I shouted and all they did was stare at me. I didn’t wait for their response. I stormed out of the house and ran. Draco had gotten me a ticket for the tub in case I needed to come see him. That’s exactly what I did. I ran up to the large door of Malfoy Manor. I knocked on the door and a house-elf answered. 

“How can I help you Miss?” He asked. 

“Is Draco Malfoy here?” I asked as I fiddled with my hands. 

“Yes, let me go get the Master.” He said and let me inside. I stood in the foyer and awkwardly waited for Draco to appear. 

“Y/N?” Draco asked and I looked up at the top of the stairs. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, rushing down. 

“I’m fine, but I had a fight with my family…” I said. He pulled me to him and kissed my head. 

“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered. Tears started falling and I didn’t even know I was holding them back. 

“You can stay here, my Father can have people get your things.” He said. 

“Are you sure they’ll be alright with me staying here?” I asked and he smiled. 

“You’re a Pure-blood so I’m sure they’ll be happy with that.” He answered and I cracked a smile. 

“Come, let me introduce you.” He said and pulled me through his house. 

“Draco, who was at the door?” His Mother asked without looking up from her book. 

“My girlfriend.” He answered and both his parents moved their attention to us. 

“A Weasley?” His Father said. 

“This is Y/N Weasley, her and her family had a fight because she’s in Slytherin and dating me.” He said and they both raised their brows. 

“You were placed in Slytherin?” His Father asked. 

“Yes sir, my family was very unhappy with me.” I answered. 

“You poor dear.” His Mother said. 

“Can she stay with us this summer?” Draco asked. 

“A Weas-”

“Of course dear, but she stays in one of the guests rooms.” His Mother answered, cutting off her husband. 

“Thank you. Come on Y/N, I’ll show you to your room.” Draco said with a smile and pulled me along. Maybe this will also be the first good summer I have. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @softgamerking​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​  @dracoswhvre​