#I’m going on a road trip rip

[dreamsb0u]

Doodles from @/sunnymainecoon’s magma !!

[jjunberry]

❝ forever with me ❞

synopsis ⟢ can't promise that things won't be broken but i swear that i will never leave,please stay forever with me…when you’re forced to sit next to the one person you despise the most during a road trip, things get tense as emotions are at an all time high.

pairing ⟢ nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ⟢ enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol au, slice of life, angst, fluff

warnings ⟢ arguments, cursing, niki & reader being assholes, jungwon and jake playing cupid??

wc ⟢2.2k mlist ⟢

your eyebrows furrowed at jungwon, who stood across from you. “you have got to be kidding me,” your arms crossed. he smiled sheepishly, “i’m sorry but this year, it’s your turn for the back seat.” the back seat which you’ve always avoided since every year niki sat back there. “jungwon, this trip is a four hour drive, you want me to sit next to him for four hours?” jungwon sighed at your question. “with the drivers rotating, you two don’t drive so it’s easier this way.” curse you for not having your drivers license.

“i am not happy about this,” your arms crossed as you plopped down on your couch. jungwon sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. “it’s only for the ride there, you can manage yeah? just take your headphones.” you sighed and nodded, “i’m only doing this for you and the others, don’t expect a peep out of me.” jungwon smiled at your words, knowing there was no way you’d keep quiet against niki.

the days leading up to the road trip, you tried your hardest to avoid niki. key word tried, he always finds a way to get under your skin. whether its taking your seat while out to eat, or cutting you off in line at the mall. it never failed to get a rise out of you. the boys could practically predict what the two of you’d say to each other.

“at least say excuse me, you gremlin,” jake mocked you. “move, you always take to long anyway,” sunoo was quick to mock niki’s response. they of course never did this in front of you two, afraid of even more warfare. despite how funny the arguments could be, they also got quite annoying. the constant bickering was enough to have the group want to rip their hair out.

niki was in no better spirits about having to share his precious back seat with you. he barely liked to share with the guys but to have you back there? the boy wanted to just unpack and not even go. “it’s not that bad,” jake said watching niki angrily shove the remaining items he had into his bag. “it is that bad actually, she’s insufferable. how can i sit next to her for four hours?” niki looked at jake with furious eyes. “look if you drove then maybe you’d be better off, but it’s easier this way”, jake shrugged. niki seriously needed to get his license, he rolled his eyes. “see you in the morning man, just take your headphones and ignore her i guess”, he patted niki’s shoulder before leaving.

you were the last stop before they could go on the road. niki was already annoyed. he only had his wired headphones, the car they rented had a small back seat, so he’d be even closer to you then he wanted to be. he rolled his eyes watching you stumble to the car with your bags. his eyes followed jungwon who jumped out to help you. the trunk opened and jungwon placed your bag in the back, handing you your smaller one. “thank you wonnie,” you grinned, hugging him. “you’re welcome.” he opened the sliding door to let you in.

in the second row sat, jay and jake. the middle was occupied by sunoo and sunghoon. heeseung was driving and jungwon had the passenger seat. “hi everyone,” you greeted them before climbing into the very back seat. niki furrowed his eyebrows when you finally sat down, your shoulder brushing his slightly.

with the reduced space, your legs and shoulders were touching his. niki began bouncing his leg, the annoyance of sitting next to you already bothering him. you looked at him, you wanted to scold him for bouncing his leg, but you remained calm for everyone’s sake. once heeseung checked that everyone was ready he began driving.

everyone was conversing amongst themselves, you tried to occupy yourself on your phone, by looking out the window. niki was like a statue next to you, besides his leg that was still bouncing. you leaned up, propping your head on the back of the middle row seat. “hi,” sunoo giggled seeing your head pop up between himself and sunghoon. “hi,” you grinned.

he motioned with his head, “doing okay back there?” you sighed,” i guess so,” niki let out a groan shifting away from you causing you to fall back from the seat. “stop leaning against me,” niki snapped. “spoke to soon,” you whispered to sunoo before returning to your seat. “sorry jeez,” you scoffed, leaning away from him as far as you could. niki rolled his eyes at you.

a few minutes had passed, you subconsciously began tapping your fingers against your leg. to whatever beat you had in your head, niki clenched his jaw at the rhythmic pattern. it was unbelievably irritating, “can you not?” he asked. you turned to him confused, “what?” he rolled his eyes, “stop tapping your fingers it’s annoying.” you narrowed your eyes at him, “yeah? well so are you bouncing your leg but i didn’t say anything.”

he rolled his eyes and stilled his leg, you smirked slightly before stopping the tapping. you laid your head against the window, feeling sleepy. however the small bumps the car hit were uncomfortable. your smaller bag only had a few things in it, not holding the small stuffed animal you were looking for. it was a small bear, you’ve had since childhood you literally always bring with you. turning so you could reach in the trunk, your body kept bumping into niki. the boy groaned, “what are you doing now? can’t you just sit still?,” he tried to scoot away from you. “i was looking for something,” you grumbled clutching the bear and turning to sit back down. “seriously?” niki noticed the bear you were now holding.

“that could of waited,” he snapped. “i’m going to use him as a pillow, it’s..you know what, i don’t have to explain myself to you.” you placed the bear in a spot to cushion your head. niki scoffed and adjusted in his spot. his leg pushing into yours, “could you maybe not be a dude and save me some room,” you asked pushing his leg back over with yours. “i can’t help it,” his eyes rolled. that’s all his eyes ever did when he looked at you. “we have to stop for gas, if anyone wants snacks or to stretch their legs,” heeseung spoke. once he pulled into the gas station everyone piled out of the car. your arms stretched above your head, a soft groan falling from your lips. goosebumps covered your skin as a chill breeze went by. “can i borrow a hoodie, anyone?” you spoke. they all nodded saying to just grab one from the back. opening the trunk you dug through the bags until you came across what you were looking for. pulling out a large gray zip up hoodie, you smiled once the sleeves covered your cold arms. jungwon came bouncing out of the gas station with a bag full of snacks. “here y/n,” he said, handing you a bag of skittles and a bottle of sprite. “thank you wonnie,” he smiled and got into the passenger seat.

you dreaded sitting next to him again, but everyone was ready to get back on the road. niki had his head turned away from you when you got in. your chest tightened but you refused to let him get to you. “can you scooch over a little bit?,” you asked, squeezing into your seat. his leg was partially on your side. he let out a scoff before pulling leg closer to his side. taking your seat, you pulled your hood up and leaned against the window. niki’s eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his hoodie. he felt his heart pounding against his chest, you looked so good in his clothes. sunoo turned towards you, holding out his bag of gummie worms, “want some?” you nodded reaching into the bag and grabbing two. “thank you,” you grinned.

niki was silent, a storm was brewing inside him. he didn’t think it was fair that you got along so well with the boys. why couldn’t you get along with him like that? why did you two hate each other so much? truth is neither of you could pinpoint any moment that could of caused the mutual feeling of hate between you both. “riki would you like a gummie worm?” sunoo asked holding the bag out to him. niki looked at it seeing no blue left, then he noticed the blue gummie worm in your hand. “no someone already took the last good flavor,” he huffed. your eyebrows furrowed and you handed the gummie worm to him, “here,” his eyes widened as he stared at it. part of him wanted to take it, he didn’t know what caused him not to. “i don’t want it after you’ve had it in your hand,” he grabbed a red one from sunoo before turning to ignore the both of you.

sunoo turned back around to ignore the brewing argument, but you shrugged and said nothing. trying your best to not fight with him.

it wasn’t long before another fight broke out. the bouncing of his leg? a fight. the tapping of your nails? a fight. sunoo pointing out you were wearing niki’s hoodie? a fight. “y/n isn’t that riki’s?,” sunoo pointed towards the gray hoodie on your body. you looked towards the hoodie and shrugged, “yeah i guess so i just grabbed one,” your eyes quickly glanced at niki who had a scowl on his face. “maybe ask before wearing someone else's clothes,” his voice was cold.

“but i did, i asked to borrow a hoodie.” you were quick to defend yourself. “well you didn’t ask to borrow mine so why are you wearing it?” his eyebrows were furrowed. you turned towards niki, angry. “why are you so upset about it? it’s just a hoodie, i’ll take it off. i’m trying to be nice but you’re being a prick,” your hands reached for the zipper pulling it off and tossing it towards him.

your perfume filled his senses as he folded the hoodie and set it beside him. his heart was racing for many different reasons, the glances from the boys made him more angry. “no one wants you here anyway, so of course i’m being a prick,” niki seethed. “i’ll have you know the boys want me here, otherwise i wouldn’t of been invited,” niki laughed. “you’re only here because they pity you, because you cling to them—to everyone like an abandoned puppy. nobody wants you here.”

it felt like your heart stopped. “riki that’s not true,” sunoo spoke up. you drown them out turning towards the window ignoring the boys attempts to speak to you, ignoring niki’s longing glance. his own heart wrenching as he caught sight of the tears welling in your waterline. he put his headphones in and turned towards his window. the familiar sounds of his alternative playlist playing. his leg continued to bounce yet this time you were dead silent. ignoring him all together, he hated to admit it but he missed the attention.

what felt like hours passed before niki couldn’t take it anymore. he plucked one of his earbuds out, handing it to you. you looked at the earbud, then up at him. he wasn’t looking at you, but the thought of hearing music was better than whatever silence your latest fight had caused. swallowing the lump in your throat, you placed the earbud in your ear.

the familiar lyrics of ‘if i’m james dean, you’re audrey hepburn’ filled your ears. your eyes widened not expecting niki to share the same music taste as you. taking the risk you scooted closer to him, to shorten the length of the headphone wire. he let out a deep breath, relaxing his body resting closer to yours.

niki took the peace between you as his chance to apologize. the car intensely quiet, he didn’t trust his voice to come out as a whisper. niki’s hand wrapped softly around your wrist, pulling your arm towards him. he waited to see if you’d pull away, when you didn’t he took a breath. using his finger he carefully spelled out ‘i’m sorry. your breath was caught in your throat, as your heart was hammering against your chest. niki stopped spelling but his hand remain on your wrist, his fingers itching to lace with yours.

taking a chance you opened your hand, palm up. niki was quick to lace his fingers in yours. the song continues between the two of you. sealing your feelings for each other. you leaned your head against his shoulder, your body relaxing against his. niki sighed contently resting his head on yours, his hand holding yours like you’d disappear if he let go.

your relationship was far from mended, the two of you were content with the comforting silence you created. the music and movement of the car was enough to lull both of you to sleep.

in the front seat jake and jungwon shared a knowing look, jungwon grinning knowing he purposely took your headphones. jake smirked knowing their plan worked, and they’re friendcation would be peaceful afterall.

author’s note: eeeek my first riki fic 🥳 hope you all enjoyed it ♡!!

taglist: @jjunieworld @304files @babymochibeargyu @miaroseindreamland @seuliecore @seobluv @ray0magdalene @mimisxs @ppeachyttae @capri-cuntz @eneiyri @50-husbands @riksaes @imma-jiki @luvvhaos (if your name is bold i couldn’t tag you)

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[rangerbarbz]

Serving Up Romance

Author’s Note: Guys holy FUCK y’all have blown up my account!! Thank you all so much! I just can’t believe it like i'm going bonkers. Thank you so much for all your kind words and everything!! Also, I can’t believe I’ve never written for 80s Stan that’s crazy. (Also i know he’s never worn a denim jacket but i had a vision) 

“Serving up Romance”

You had been working as a waitress at Greasy’s Diner since you first moved to the strange town of Gravity Falls. While others might turn their nose up at waitressing, you loved it. You got the opportunity to know everyone in town, hear their gossip, and meet passer-bys driving through on road trips. You never knew who was going to walk through those doors or what incredible story they were going to tell you. One slow day at the diner, you were making a pot of coffee when you heard the bell above the door jingle. 

“Welcome to Greasy’s! Sit wherever you want, and I’ll be with you in just a sec,” you called out, pouring water into the coffee maker. You heard someone sit at the swivel stool behind you. 

“Take your time, doll. I’m in no rush,” a gruff voice responded. Hm. You didn’t recognize that tone. You turned around to see a man with dark brown hair in a white t-shirt and denim jacket, chewing on a toothpick. You noticed that there were patches of different fabrics and patterns all over the jacket. He hadn’t noticed you were looking at him because he was reading the small menu that was attached to the metal condiment holder. 

You smiled at him. “I like your jacket,” you complimented the handsome stranger. 

His attention quickly diverted to you. He chuckled. “Oh, this old thing?” He lifted up his arms to show off more of his patches. “Thanks. It’s been through the ringer let me tell ya. My ma taught me how to hand stitch so that any time I ripped it, I could fix it right up.” 

“That’s so sweet.” You reached out to point at one that was yellow with small, red flowers on his shoulder. “I like this one.” He looked over to see which one you were talking about and laughed. 

“That one I got from a motel pillow case! I accidentally caught my shoulder on fire.” You raised your eyebrows at him. His gaze became stern. “I learned to keep my distance from candles that day on.” 

You burst out laughing. “Now is this a true story?” you asked, propping your chin up on the palm of your hand. 

He grinned, moving his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “True as you are pretty, sweetheart.”

You giggled as a blush started to spread across your cheeks.“Alright, slick, what can I get you?” you responded, removing a notepad from the front pocket of your apron. He picked up the menu and gave it a quick once over.

“Uh… Give me the bacon and eggs. Scrambled, please, and one cup of coffee.” You finished scribbling his order and turned to put it in the window. 

“Can I get a name for this order?” you asked, winking at him from the coffee pot. You began to walk back over to him with a mug of black coffee. 

He gave you a wide smile. “Stan Pines, proprietor of The Mystery Shack,” he answered, hand outreached to you in greeting. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, waitress at Greasy’s Diner.” You shook his hand; it was firm, calloused, and felt very nice against your smooth skin. You turned over his hand to take a look at his scarred knuckles you noticed when he was holding the menu earlier. You dragged your thumb over the puckered, white lines.

“You got fighting hands, Stan.” You gazed at him through your lashes and grinned.“Sexy.” Now it was his turn to be flustered. His face grew red at your bold statement and laughed nervously. 

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, used to box, and I’ve gotten myself into a fair share of…scuffles.” You gave him a small smile. You were about to comment on that until the bell dinged from the window signaling that his food was done. 

“Bacon and eggs are up!” the chef barked. His loud voice startled you which made Stan laugh. 

“Sorry, let me get your food real quick.” You let go of his hand reluctantly and went to get his plate. What you didn’t see was him smirking to himself and touching the scars you grazed. He couldn’t remember the last time someone genuinely complimented him. 

Things started to pick up after you served Stan his food, so you didn’t get to continue your conversation. However, you made sure that when he paid for his meal, you got to talk to him one last time. 

“Will I be seeing you again, Stan?” you asked, getting his change from the cash register. “You should come next Tuesday! We serve waffle tacos then.” He laughed as you dropped the coins into his hand. 

“Well, I obviously can’t miss waffle tacos,” he responded with a smile. 

“I’ll see you then. It was nice to meet you, Stan! Don’t go catching yourself on fire on your way out!” you joked as he began walking towards the exit. 

“No promises, doll.” 

Over the next couple weeks, Stan continued to come into the diner and sit in the same swivel stool as he did when you first met him. He ordered a different thing on the menu each time making it his goal to try everything you had to offer. Your conversations were playful, flirty, but, most of all, interesting. He had quite the colorful past, but that didn’t scare you off. In fact, it made you more intrigued. 

One day, during a particularly busy shift, Stan walked in as always. “Hey, hon!” you greeted him while placing a plate of pancakes in front of a fussy toddler. “I’ll be right with ya!” You then noticed he had one of his hands behind his back, and he seemed a bit nervous. 

He didn’t sit down this time, but instead stood at the cash register. You walked over with a confused expression on your face. “Stan? Are you not eating today?” 

“Um, well, no. Not today, doll. I, uh, wanted to give you these.” His face was bright pink as he presented you with a large bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped. “I hope you like them. I found a whole bunch of them in a field near one of the backroads.”

“Oh, Stan,” you said softly. You took the bouquet from him and held it gently, admiring it. “It’s just beautiful, but why?” 

He started to rub the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. “There’s a drive-in movie happening tonight outside of town, and I wanted to take you with me,” he murmured shyly. “I think you’re real nice and fun to talk to and you got a knock-out smile.” He paused. “I would…like to get to know you outside the diner.” He finally made eye contact with you to see your reaction to everything he had said. 

You hadn’t stopped beaming at him since he handed you the flowers. “Stan, I would love to join you.” You reached out to cup his face with your free hand and gave him a peck on his cheek, his stubble tickling your lips. “What time should I be expecting you?” 

His eyes widened at you, his hand touching where you had kissed him. “Um, I. The, uh, movie starts at 7:45, so I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he stammered, face as red as his Diablo. 

“Sounds good, sugar,” you replied, giving him a slip of paper that you had written your address on while he was talking. “I can’t wait to see what tricks a romantic like you has up his sleeves.” 

Stan let out a giggle before quickly covering it up by clearing his throat. “I guess you’ll have to find out tonight. I’ll see you then, sweetheart.” He gave your hand a squeeze before walking out the way he came in. 

“I’m going on a date with Mr. Mystery,” you whispered to yourself excitedly, burying your nose in the bouquet. 

PART 2 COMING SOON

[laurenairay]

felt like magic - N. Hischier

Summary: Nico has been pining for years – maybe this summer is a chance to finally do something about his feelings for you.

I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2k24, with a Nico Hischier story for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten! I really hope you enjoy this – I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me. And who doesn’t love Summer Nico?

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: pining, childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, some bad language

Title (and song lyrics) from Caffeine, by Jack Kays

~

Stay with me, If it’s not our time then will you wait for me? I know that we’re young, but this is destiny I couldn’t be me without you, without you

~

Travelling from Bern to Zurich wasn’t something you’d do for just anyone. An hour and a half driving across the country, surrounded by drivers who were just as impatient to get through their journeys as you were? Not your idea of fun. At least the destination was more than worth it.

“Happy birthday Jonas!”

The man in question turned around at the sound of your voice, a big grin sliding onto his face.

“You made it, liebling! Thanks for coming!” Jonas said happily.

It wasn’t every year that you got to celebrate the birthday of one of your favourite people – early May wasn’t exactly the most consistent time of year for hockey players after all. And the last thing you wanted to do was remind him of the early end to his season. So when Jonas had called you to say that he was hosting a birthday party at his house in Zurich and invited you to spend the weekend, there was no way you were saying no.

“As if I’d miss the event of the summer,” you teased.

Jonas just beamed at you.

“Schatzi! You survived the A1!”

You peered around Jonas’s broad shoulders to see another one of your favourite people – Nico. It was through Nico, one of your childhood best friends – that you’d met Jonas in the first place so you should’ve guessed that he wouldn’t be too far away. Usually you would’ve made the journey with Nico, both of you coming from Bern after all, but he’d already been visiting in Zurich so you’d been stuck with a solo trip this time.

And damn did he look good. It wasn’t something that you let yourself think about often, being just his friend, but Nico was genuinely one of the most handsome people you’d ever seen, let alone become good friends with. It wouldn’t do you any good to travel down that road of thoughts though, so you were always careful to nip those feelings in the bud. You were friends. Great friends. Incredible friends, and that’s how it was always going to be.

“I’m here,” you mused, “had to greet the birthday boy before anyone else.”

“Yeah don’t be jealous,” Jonas teased.

Interestingly, Nico blushed slightly and glared at the taller man, before clearing his throat. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll grab something myself in a minute, but thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly, “Let me just give Jonas his birthday present first.”

You handed over the thick envelope, Jonas eagerly ripping into it, making you laugh softly.

“Oh shit, you’re the best,” Jonas gasped.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased.

“What did you get?” Nico asked, curious.

“A tattoo voucher. Far more than enough to cover the gap fillers I’ve been looking at getting. This is amazing, thank you, this is way too generous,” Jonas explained, looking gratefully at you.

“You’re welcome. I know you’ve been talking about filling the spaces for a while,” you shrugged.

While you didn’t have any tattoos of your own, you knew how Nico and Jonas felt about their own tattoos, and how much they meant to them – it was an easy decision.

“Are we ever going to get you into a tattoo chair, hm?” Nico teased.

“Maybe if I have someone holding my hand,” you teased back, trying to fight the giddy heat rising to your cheeks.

His lips parted slightly in shock, speechless for once, Jonas just cackling at his response.

“And on that note, I’m going to go say hi to Andreas and Julia. See you both later?” you grinned.

“Yeah, see you liebling,” Jonas nodded.

Nico just nodded, cheeks aflame. His silence was a bit concerning – he wasn’t exactly one to be shy or awkward, especially not around you – but you knew Jonas would figure out whatever was going on with him. Hopefully.

~

“So that was smooth,” Jonas mused.

“Shut up,” Nico groaned.

“No really, that was one of your best efforts,” Jonas snickered.

“You’re the worst,” Nico shot back.

He ran a hand through his hair, watching you walk across the backyard with a confidence he wished he had. There was just something about you that had always reduced him to feeling like a hapless fool, ever since he’d first moved to Bern as a teenager and met you within the first few weeks of living there. You’d been a constant feature in his life for 10 years now, always there with a wide smile and open arms whether it was in Bern, Zurich, or New Jersey, and he didn’t know what he would do with his life if you weren’t in it.

Nico was head over heels in love with you, and you had no idea.

Everyone else in his life knew how he felt for you, obviously, not just Jonas. His parents, his siblings, even Jack had figured it out within an hour of your first visit to New Jersey all those years ago. If Jack Hughes of all people could read it off his face then he didn’t know how much more obvious he could be – other than actually telling you with words, of course.

But how could he say anything to you, when he knew for certain that you didn’t feel the same way?

~

“Are you sure your billet family don’t mind us being down here?”

Nico smiled down at you, shaking his head. The two of you were down in the basement where his billet family’s entertainment room was, the rest of the house having gone out for the night, and Nico had invited you round for a movie night. He’d only been in Bern for a few weeks, and you were the only non-hockey friend he’d made so far, so he hadn’t hesitated to invite you over to get to know you better.

There was just something about you that made him want to put in the effort

“They really don’t mind. They even left us money for takeout,” he insisted.

“Oh, well alright then. What are we watching first?”

The evening flew by, pizza ravenously consumed between movies, the two of you shifting closer and closer on the sofa until you were fully leaning up against each other, Nico’s hockey bulk giving you a solid pillow to rest on. He didn’t mind it at all, if he was being honest with himself, although he wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“That was so terrible though! They had no chemistry at all!” you giggled as the credits rolled.

“I guess not all actors are going to like kissing everyone they work with,” Nico snickered.

Even in the dim light of the room, he noticed the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

“What?” Nico frowned.

“It’s nothing,” you said, shaking your head quickly.

He might not know you that well yet, but he knew that was a lie.

“Come on, tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“We’re 15 years old – everything we do is stupid,” Nico pointed out.

You huffed out a laugh, breath a little shaky. “I was just thinking about the fact that I wouldn’t know what it was like.”

“What what was like?” Nico asked, confused.

“To kiss someone,” you all but whispered.

His lips parted in surprise, not expecting those words to fall from your lips, and you immediately grimaced.

“See I told you it was stupid,” you groaned.

As you shifted to move away from him, Nico instinctively gripped your shoulder, not letting you go. You startled but looked up at him, staying silent in confusion.

“It’s not stupid. Not everyone has had their first kiss. You’re only 15,” he murmured.

“You’ve kissed someone though?”

Nico bit his bottom lip but nodded. He’d had multiple kisses, all harmless, all essentially meaningless, he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Kissing was fun – he always liked the way it made his heart race with adrenaline.

And it was the memory of that feeling that fuelled his bravery.

“I could kiss you, if you want?”

“What?”

He took a steadying breath, before nodding. “I could kiss you. So you have a good first kiss, with a friend.”

There was nothing worse than doing something scary for the first time only to have someone make you feel like an idiot. If Nico could stop that feeling for you, then he absolutely would.

“Are you sure?” you said hesitantly, “You really don’t have to.”

“Of course I am,” he said, smiling to reassure you.

He could feel how fast your heart was beating as he rested a hand on the side of your neck, echoing the beating of his own heart. You closed your eyes as he leaned down towards you, making him smile slightly before he pressed his lips to yours. As he slowly kissed you, he could feel how hesitant and nervous you were, but as you continued to kiss him back he didn’t regret his offer for a moment. Nico kissed you over and over and over again, almost feeling dizzy with how the embrace was consuming him, his thumb stroking over your jaw as you melted into his arms. This was heaven. This was bliss. This was everything he didn’t realise he’d wanted.

After what felt like hours, but could only have been a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss. Nico made a soft noise of protest, opening his eyes to see you looking stunned, lips as swollen as his felt.

“Schatzi,” he managed to murmur.

You just bit your bottom lip, smiling softly, before leaning backwards out of his hands. He tried not to frown, not understanding why his heart was pounding, even though you didn’t look mad.

“I should probably get home. My parents will be wondering where I am by now,” you said, voice quiet, almost as if you were still a little in shock.

Nico glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing at the late hour. Where had the time gone? Did you really have to leave, after a kiss like that?

“O-Okay, if you’re sure. Text me when you get back safe?”

“I will. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

~

After that kiss 10 years ago, the two of you had never spoken about it again. The morning after you’d acted like nothing had ever happened, and Nico had been too nervous to say anything to risk losing the blossoming friendship. He knew now that it was his first experience of heartbreak, as youthful and innocent as that had been – and he also knew that’s when he’d first started having feelings for you. What was meant to have been a friend helping out another friend had started a decade of unrequited feelings, and it was far too late for him to say anything now.

He could only hold on to the incredible friendship that had grown between the two of you with both hands. If this was all he could ever have then he was going to cherish it, no matter how what Jonas said.

“Come on bud, let’s get you a drink,” Jonas said, smiling sadly.

Nico huffed out a laugh but nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need one.”

~

Hours passed by, drinking, eating, catching up with friends and making new ones, until the evening was late and only the last few straggling partygoers were making their way out of the house. You’d volunteered to start cleaning up while Jonas said goodbye to his guests, needing something to do after a long day of socialising. You were making good progress on cleaning up the empty food containers and empty drink bottles when Nico wandered into the living room, holding out a bottle of water for you.

“Looks like thirsty work,” he grinned, leaning against the arm of the sofa.

“Thanks, you should try it some time,” you teased, taking the bottle from him.

You unscrewed the cap and took a couple of long gulps with your head tilted back, needing the refreshment more than you thought, but when you put the cap back on the bottle, you noticed Nico staring at you transfixed.

“What?” you frowned, “Did I spill some water?”

“No, no, it isn’t that,” he said quickly, cheeks heating.

Why was he blushing? What was going through his mind?

“Then what is it?” you prompted, putting the bottle down on the table.

“It’s just…I was thinking about…well…”

“Yes?” you prompted again, a soft smile on your face at his awkwardness.

“It wouldn’t take a tattoo for me to hold your hand,” he blurted out.

“What?”

What was he talking about…oh. Oh. What?

“Wait, shit, no, that came out wrong…”

Nico trailed off with a groan, punctuated only by the sound of a snort. You whirled around to see Jonas standing in the doorway, and he cackled at the look on both your faces.

“Yeah I’m going upstairs. Have fun dealing with your years of feelings,” Jonas grinned, shaking his head.

Oh damn. Jonas knew?

Wait, years of feelings?

With that he left you and Nico alone, a murmur suspiciously sounding like ‘lovestruck idiots’ lingering behind him. Hesitantly you looked back at Nico to see his face full of embarrassment, cheeks tinged with red.

“What was Jonas talking about?” you asked, voice a little shaky.

Because you were damn sure that Jonas didn’t know a thing about how you felt for Nico. So he had to be talking about Nico…which only succeeded in sending your heart into a flutter.

“This was not how I wanted it all to come out,” he murmured.

“Nico, please. No more talking in circles,” you all but begged.

He inhaled shakily but nodded, finally looking you in the eyes once more. “I’ve loved you ever since the movie night where we kissed.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “That was 10 years ago, Nico. We were 15! You’ve loved me since then?”

Ten long years.

“I know,” he winced, “But yes, since then.”

“You never said anything?” you said hesitantly.

Not about the kiss, and not about his feelings.

“You didn’t either? I mean, like, we never talked about the kiss. At all. I just assumed you didn’t say anything because you regretted it, and there was no way I wanted to lose you as a friend,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

“I thought you regretted it,” you admitted, “You were this up-and-coming hockey star, and I was just the neighbour down the street.”

Nico burst out laughing, hands rising to cover his face briefly.

“We’re both idiots,” he managed to choke out between laughs, “maybe me more than you.”

Maybe.

Maybe you both were idiots, but that didn’t mean you had to waste any more time. If Nico really wanted to try being more than friends, you weren’t about to stop him.

“Hey Nico?” you said, reaching forward to place a hand on his chest.

You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart, but it was the hope in his eyes that gave you courage.

“Yes, schatzi?”

“It’s been a long ten years…kiss me again?”

Nico’s only response was to do as you’d asked.

~

I’m sitting patiently, Hoping for the day to come where you can see, All the stars, they fall in line for you and me, I can’t wait for you to see too, yes, you’ll do.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 5: Heads Or Tails, Fairy Tales In My Mind]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Are We The Waiting” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“I know he has a scalpel in his bag,” Baela says, meaning Aemond. You are sitting with her on the front steps of a two-story house—1970s construction, split foyer, pale blue siding and rust-red bricks—on Trux Street in Plymouth, Ohio. This town was named for the place where the pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower over four hundred years ago, pioneers who crossed through the doorway of an unfathomably changing world to die of disease, cold, accidents, starvation, violence. You wonder if you are so unlike them. “He’s assisted with c-sections before, if it comes to that. And he has needles and surgical thread. But he doesn’t have any way to anesthetize me.”

Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the silver Chrysler Pacifica parked at the end of the driveway and surveilling the road. Everyone else is inside tearing the house apart as they try to find the keys. You don’t know what to say to Baela. There is no way to console her except by lying, and she’s too smart for that. “How far along are you?”

“I don’t even know.” She laughs like she’s on the verge of losing her mind. You don’t blame her. “The doctors calculate it based on the date of your last period, but mine was all over the place. I had tried a few different birth control pills and had all these side effects, weird spotting and cramping, no sex drive, feeling depressed, so I just figured I’d go all natural for six months and give my body a chance to reset. And we all know how that turned out.” She skims her palms over the globe of her belly, hidden beneath the flowing periwinkle cotton of a maternity dress she found at the Walmart back in Shenandoah. “I’m officially due in four weeks.”

“But it could happen at any time.”

Baela nods miserably. “My mum had me and Rhaena the…you know…the natural way, and it was smooth sailing. But she needed an emergency c-section with my little brother. What happens if that’s how it goes for me? Do you ever think about all the ways people can die now? It’s not just the zombies. I could get murdered, or fall and crack my skull open, or get a cut that turns septic, or rupture my appendix, or get frostbite or heatstroke, or get bitten by a snake. It never ends. We’ll be balancing on the knife’s edge for the rest of our lives.”

You wish you were better with words; you wish you were someone who spoke effortlessly like Rio or Aegon. You reply with the only thing you can think of. “Humans have survived for hundreds of thousands of years, and for the vast majority of that time with no modern medicine. It was dangerous, and it was painful. But there have always been people who made it. We wouldn’t exist otherwise.”

Remarkably, this seems to help. “I know Aemond will do everything he can for me,” Baela says, more steadily now. “He’s always been the most dependable one. So serious, so protective. Daeron was visiting us in Boston when everything shut down, and Aemond wouldn’t let the kid out of his sight for weeks…then Aemond almost died when he lost his eye and Daeron proved he could take care of himself with his compound bow.” Baela unwraps a Twizzler and takes a bite out of it, gazing vacantly at the sky, calm and overcast now that the storm has passed, breezy, mid-80s. She doesn’t even like them, but she’s been eating through a pack of Twizzlers Luke had been carrying in his backpack for Jace, slow mindless chewing like a cow’s. “Aemond feels responsible for you now. And that’s difficult when there’s so little control he actually has over what ends up happening.”

“Baela…I’m so sorry about Jace.”

“Drowning isn’t so bad, I guess. I hope he drowned. I hope he was dead before he washed ashore and they ate him.” Baela turns to you, eyes glazed. “Do you think we should have shot him before we left the river? To make sure he didn’t die in pain? You could have done it if you wanted to. Your aim is good enough.”

“No,” you say, horrified but trying to soften it. “I think that would have been…immoral.”

“I don’t even have a picture of Jace to show the baby, everything was online or on my phone, and now that’s all…gone. Just gone. Like he never even existed. How am I going to explain to my child what Boston was, or law school, or aerospace engineering, or grocery stores or shopping malls or Instagram, or anything else about our lives before this whole fucking disaster? All they’ll ever know is running from monsters, scrounging for shelter and supplies from the ruins of civilization.”

“The world is going to come back, Baela. Maybe not for five or ten years, and maybe looking a lot different than it did before, but humanity will recover. The Black Death wasn’t the end, and neither were the World Wars or the Mongol invasions or the colonization of the Americas, or famines or floods or volcanic eruptions. The zombies won’t end us either.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I want to. “Yeah, I do. We just have to hold on until the tide turns. We can’t give up.”

“In that case, I’ll try not to go completely insane in the immediate future. Thank God Rhaena and Luke are still here. Do you have any siblings?”

You smile vaguely. “Four.”

“Wow,” Baela says. “Do you know where they are now?”

There is an interruption before you have to decide how to answer: a roaring high above in the sky, a remote mechanical growling. You and Baela both look up to see a jet zooming by, just below the steel grey cloud cover and leaving a trail of condensation behind it like a comet’s tail of eons-old cosmic dust. From where he is perched atop the Pacifica, Luke is pointing at the jet to show Rhaena. Aemond, Rio, Aegon, and Daeron come rocketing out of the house to find the source of the noise. After a moment, Helaena moseys onto the front porch as well, tucking flashlights and napkins into her burlap messenger bag. Meanwhile, Aegon is filling his pockets with packs of Marlboro Golds and orange prescription bottles labelled Percocet.

“Is that an airplane?!” Aegon gasps. “People are flying again?! Oh, we are back, baby! We are so back! I’m catching the next flight to SFO, peace out bitches, no more Oregon Trail for me!”

“It’s a jet,” Aemond says flatly. “Not a passenger carrier. Probably military.”

“Doesn’t look like one of ours.” Rio turns to you for confirmation.

“No, I don’t recognize it.”

“Then who the fuck is up there?” Aegon says. “Canada? The U.K.?”

Rio sighs, ruffling Aegon’s already quite disheveled blonde hair. “Who knows, Honey Bun. Maybe it’s China or Russia swinging by to drop nukes on any survivors.”

“Fortunately, nobody’s going to waste a nuclear bomb on freaking Plymouth, Ohio,” Baela says, watching the jet vanish into the west, the droning of its engines replaced by the breeze through the sugar maples and sycamores, the screeching of cicadas and chirps of robins. “No luck finding the keys?”

Aemond frowns as he shakes his head, tapping his chin anxiously. He knows she can’t walk much farther.

“How do none of us know how to hotwire a car?” Aegon demands, exasperated.

Rio replies cheerfully: “Well, Chips and I have been diligently serving this glorious nation since we were eighteen years old, and you’re all clueless rich kids. So…I think that just about sums it up.”

“I need more arrows,” Daeron says, clutching his compound bow. All the ones he had are now speared through zombies along the river where Jace died. When you snuck away from the farm at dawn, Luke used his binoculars to check the shores; they were still swamped with zombies, even more than the night before. They are pack animals; alone, they are aimless and easily confounded, their memories calamitously short. As part of a group—if they were crows they’d be a murder, if they were camels they’d be a caravan—zombies attract and guide each other, moving symbiotically like planets and moons locked in orbit.

“I think you’re going to have to start making them the old fashioned way, kid,” Rio tells Daeron, accompanied by a rough pat of encouragement on the back.

“What, like with sticks?!”

“Yeah. Use a knife to carve one end to make it pointy and you’re good to go.”

“Love it. Very pioneer.” Aegon holds up a Sony Walkman, pink and covered with Disney stickers, Ava spelled out across the top in glittering rhinestones. “At least I found this. Helaena, do we have any more AA batteries?” She fishes around in her bag and hands him a pair.

Baela gapes at him, but she’s smiling. It’s horrible, it’s absurd, it’s something you can’t help but find a macabre humor in. “Aegon, you cannot use that poor eaten kid’s CD player. You know it’s haunted.”

Aegon sings like a jingle from a commercial: “Little Ava died, RIP. Now I get to listen to my CDs.”

“Oh, that is so fucked up!” Rio cackles.

You say, grinning: “Aegon, I’m really going to miss you when we’re all in heaven at the bowling alley made of clouds and you’re downstairs in the fiery version of the afterlife.”

“Don’t feel bad for me, Chipmunk. You’re the one who’s going to die without ever having an orgasm.”

“You don’t need a man for that, Aegon,” Baela says.

“You definitely don’t,” you agree. Aemond glances over at you, intrigued. You stare dauntlessly back. What? You said you weren’t interested. The corners of his lips curl up in a reticent smile; he looks down to try to hide it. He’s touching his chin again. His cheeks flush pink as his mind wanders.

Rio chuckles. “Oh yeah, I remember your little experimenting phase. Lots of trips to the Spencer’s in the Tysons Corner mall when we were stationed at Anacostia.”

You raise your eyebrows, though you’re not annoyed. “I thought you were never going to tell anybody about that.”

“It’s the end of the world, baby. No time to be shy.” Then Rio asks Aemond: “Since we’re here and it’s quiet, you want to go ahead and check every house that has a car with the fuel cap still closed? There are some minivans and SUVs down at the other end of the street. Even a few gallons of gas will take us farther than days on foot.”

Aegon adds, checking his map: “A half tank would get us all the way to Decatur, Indiana.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Aemond says. He offers Baela a hand and helps lift her to her feet. “You guys go ahead, I’ll meet you down at the driveway with the black…what is that, a Honda Odyssey? You know the one, the van in front of the yellow house. Don’t go inside until I get there.”

“Yup!” Aegon agrees as he speeds off, racing Daeron to the house. Rio—not one for sprinting—jogs after them with his Remington in hand, ready to bash rotting skulls in at a moment’s notice. Baela toddles down to the Pacifica to tell Luke and Rhaena the plan, her periwinkle dress billowing in the wind; then they climb down to walk with her. Helaena floats across the sidewalk like a ghost, pausing to pick buttercups that grow up between the cracks in the cement.

Aemond has been waiting until the two of you are alone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” A few houses down, a female zombie—early-twenties, white bikini top, red Ohio State shorts—staggers across the yard and in her attempt to snag Aegon falls and impales herself on the white picket fence. She is suspended there, clawing and yowling, her blackening intestines and dark clotted blood staining the wood. Aegon takes his time getting into a stance and swings his golf club like he’s at a driving range. He hits her dead-on, caves the front of her face in, takes a few more shots just to be sure.

“I get what’s in Oregon for Rio,” Aemond says. “Sophie, the baby, his parents. But why are you going there?”

“Rio’s my best friend. He might be my only friend who’s still alive. And when we left Saratoga Springs, he made me promise that I wouldn’t let him die alone. So before anything else, I have to make sure he gets to Odessa and finds his family. And then I can figure out what’s next for me. But if it really is safe there, I don’t see why I’d leave. I’ve never wanted to be on my own. Maybe I can end up having a family in Oregon too.”

Aemond rests his elbows on the porch railing. He’s teasing you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m still alive.”

You tease him back. He deserves it. “I’m not sure about you and me.”

“I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Would you?”

“Resoundingly.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a try.”

He considers you. “You know, Kentucky might have been a good place for you to hide out. And it would be a lot closer than Oregon.”

You stand up, throwing on your backpack full of bullets for your Beretta M9s, beef jerky and peanut butter crackers and granola bars, lip balm, bottles of water, Kleenex tissues, Juicy Fruit, miscellaneous treasures from the road, practically worthless trinkets made so impossibly valuable. “We’re done here, right?”

Aemond is disappointed, though not with you. He has committed an error he cannot understand. “Yeah, we’re done.” He walks with you to the yellow house, your sneakers pounding in tandem on the sidewalk, squirrels and rabbits darting through the overgrown lawns, eastern tiger swallowtails swooping between blossoms.

Aegon says when you and Aemond arrive in the driveway, nodding to the once-attractive blonde zombie pawing and licking at the glass of the living room window: “Who wants to take care of Ryan Seacrest?”

“Got it,” Rio replies immediately. He kicks down the front door, macerates the zombie’s skull with the butt of his Remington, then sweeps through the kitchen and dining room searching for any other monsters in need of hasty euthanasia. He doesn’t find any. He drags the corpse outside to lessen the stench of decomposition and opens all the downstairs windows.

“Commence Operation Find The Minivan Keys,” Aegon says as he rummages through drawers and cabinets. Helaena joins him, seeking so delicately she is almost soundless, her large blue eyes flicking from place to place. Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron stay outside to keep watch. Baela collapses into a recliner in one corner of the living room and is dozing within seconds.

“I’ll clear the upstairs,” Aemond volunteers, then asks you: “Watch my blind side?”

You can’t help but smile; it is a generous invitation. It is an honor. You shadow him up the staircase of olive green carpet, through the hallway, into each of the three bedrooms and one full bath. When you are certain it is safe—exploring the back of every closet, under every bed—you and Aemond begin searching for weapons and car keys. The main bedroom is like a forest: blankets pattered with trees and deer, wood furniture, paintings of the Battle of the Wilderness during the Civil War. You investigate every drawer of the nightstand and dresser, then go to leave.

“Wait.” Aemond peeks out into the hallway to make sure no one else is around, then closes the bedroom door. Your eyes track him quizzically, shy skittish optimism, your head tilted, your fingers finding the dresser behind you, cool rust-hued oak, a color like dried blood. You slip off your backpack. Then Aemond comes to you like a returning comet—once in a lifetime, once in an eon—and holds your face in his hands as he kisses you, soft, careful, unhurried, then turning famished, sweltering incurable hunger. You lift yourself up onto the dresser; your thighs have parted, and Aemond is between them, still fully clothed and leaving yours in place too, so innocent, so spotless, and yet in your mind you are imagining what it would feel like to lie beneath him as he opens and fills you, to be so irredeemably close to another person, to watch and listen as he teaches you what to do.

Right here? Right now?

It suddenly strikes you as too soon; you want this but you aren’t ready. Your heart races, you can’t catch your breath. “I am obligated to make you aware that according to your own calculations, I am likely dangerously fertile at the moment.”

Aemond grins as he bites playfully at your lower lip. “Relax. We’re not rounding all the bases this time.”

His voice evaporates your panic, lulls your rushing blood. Your muscles turn to seamless rippling water. Your bones crave the weight of his. “Yeah, totally, good, that’s good. Just making sure.”

“I want to touch you. Can I touch you?”

In reply, you unbutton your denim shorts and pull down the zipper, slowly, very slowly, your gaze linked with his like torn flesh stitched together. He’s close enough to kiss you again, but he doesn’t; he takes your chin gently and turns your face to the side, admiring the curve of your jaw. Then his lips are on your throat and his right hand is skimming down the front of your shirt, over your belly, under your shorts. You gasp—the foreignness of another’s hand here, the disorienting vulnerability—and Aemond stops.

“No, I’m okay,” you assure him, smiling. You kiss him deeply, your fingertips tracing his scar, the work of his careful, gifted hands. Aemond does not flinch away. He presses his face into your palm, offering himself fully, taking shelter in you. And everything other than him—this house, this world, this age, this westward journey, this apocalypse—goes quiet, quiet, quiet, like when you are shooting, like when you are hammering nails under the sun. Aemond makes everything horrifying disappear. It is the greatest sort of magic you can imagine.

“So,” he says. “What did you buy at Spencer’s?”

“Green Day t-shirts.”

“Sure.”

“And some, uh, battery-powered companionship.”

“Hm.” Aemond’s fingers are moving against you; it is increasingly difficult to respond to his questions. “Internal or external? Or both?”

“Oh, definitely…um…I stayed on the outside, mostly. I tried…oh wow, okay…inside a few times, but I didn’t get much out of it. It was mostly just uncomfortable.”

“No problem. We’ll work up to that.”

“Will we?” You hope you don’t sound too desperate. The warm coiling pleasure is swelling, strengthening, begging to be released, loosed like an arrow or fired like a bullet. Aemond’s fingers slip through your wetness, circling and pressing down harder, insistently, masterfully. It feels different than using toys: it is more gradual, less sharp, helplessly overpowering.

“That’s my plan. If you’ll allow it.”

You exhale a threadbare ghost of a whimper against his throat and then reach for his shorts, fumbling blindly for the button and zipper.

“No, don’t do anything,” Aemond murmurs, soft and pleading, almost like a prayer. “Let me take care of you. Please let me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing a lot right at the moment.” You’re close now, your breaths quick and panting. You throw your arms around the back of Aemond’s neck and fold into him, feeling the thudding pulse of his carotid artery beneath your fingertips, the softness of his lips and unscarred cheek as he nuzzles the side of your face. It’s so quiet, but there’s no need to fill the silence, no words, no uneasiness. You’ve always wondered what you would have to do to please a man, what premeditated motions and praises you would offer him, niceties, perhaps even lies. But this is effortless. The shimmering golden glow like sunlight is here, and he is the one drawing it out of you, water from a well, blood from a tapped vein. The only sound you make is a shuddering inhale, but Aemond knows immediately. He closes his eyes, relieved, proud, beaming, resting his forehead against yours.

He asks: “Can I try…?”

“Yes, do it, please, I want you to.”

Aemond’s hand shifts between your thighs, moves lower, and there is a sudden jolt of pain like a pinch, like a bite. You wince before you can think to disguise it. Immediately, Aemond retreats, kissing your lips and your cheeks. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You were incredible.”

You reach for his shorts again and unbutton them. “Show me what to do.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He takes a shaky breath, drags his tongue over the fingers he touched you with, moans so quietly you can barely hear him. He frees himself from his clothes: long and thick, harder than you believed flesh could be. Aemond grasps your hand and places it, demonstrates how to move and how much pressure to apply. Then his own hands drop to grip the edge of the dresser as you stroke him. You nip at his throat, his jaw, the shell of his ear; you coax euphoric sighs from him, feel a high in your bloodstream like something illicit and lethal.

“I’ll be honest,” you say. “I have no idea how that’s ever going to fit inside me.”

Aemond chuckles, distracted. “Women stretch, just like men do. It might take time, but it will happen. And I’ll make sure it’s as good as it can be.”

“I want it to be you, Aemond,” you whisper, and you can feel him throbbing in your hand. “You and no one else. Teach me how to do everything.” Make the world go away.

He gasps as he finishes, a thunderous trembling all over, a gush of white heat that flows over your hand. Curious, you lift it to your mouth. “Don’t—!”

But he’s too late; you lick him from your palm and then recoil at the taste, pungent, bitter, salty.

Aemond laughs hysterically, kissing your mouth and then your forehead. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“I hope I taste better than that.”

“You definitely do.”

You peer up at him, dazed, dreamy. “I really like you, Aemond.”

“You can’t fall in love with me.” It is a taunt; it is a warning.

“If I do, I won’t let you know,” you promise. “You’re on first watch tonight, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll stay up too.”

“Rio already volunteered to do it.”

“Really, I don’t mind.”

“No,” Aemond purrs, brushing your hair back from your face, marveling at you. “I can’t have you sleep deprived. You’re our best shot.”

“I can handle it.”

“You want to be honest with each other, you want to communicate? I like knowing you’re rested. I like knowing you’re safe.”

The door flies open with a bang; Aegon stands in the threshold. “We’ve got three-quarters of a tank of gas!” he announces ecstatically, jangling car keys in the air. Then he registers what he’s looking at. “Come outside when you’re done fucking.” Aegon slams the door shut; you hear his Sperry Bahama sneakers drumming on the staircase.

“I guess we should go,” you say reluctantly, untangling yourself from Aemond and sliding down from the dresser.

“Wait.” He gets a water bottle out of your backpack, soaks a handful of Kleenex tissues, and gives them to you to clean yourself off. When you’re done, he wipes himself down too. “Make sure you always take a piss after any…activities. We don’t have antibiotics if you get a kidney infection.”

“I know, doctor. I’ve read Reddit threads.”

“Not a doctor. Just a lowly intern.”

“You seem like an anatomy expert to me,” you say, then head downstairs.

The black Honda Odyssey is idling as the last of the supplies are loaded, the windows down, Baela adjusting the driver’s seat so she can accommodate her belly. Everyone piles inside and she steers the minivan out of the driveway and onto Trux Street. Aegon pops one of his mixtapes into the CD player. The song that pipes through the speakers is Prayer In C:

“Yeah, you never said a word

You didn’t send me no letter

Don’t think I could forgive you…”

“So,” Baela says casually, grinning at you in the rearview mirror. “How was the sex?”

“Stop,” Aemond begs, his face going red, smiling involuntarily.

You say placidly: “I appreciate your interest, but that’s not what we were doing.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Do you know what sex looks like or not, dumbass?”

“They were doing something, okay! Those were not virginal activities!”

“See, our world is slowly dying

I’m not wasting no more time

Don’t think I could believe you…”

You rest your head on Aemond’s shoulder and watch the abandoned houses pass by in a blur.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Odyssey arrives in Decatur, Indiana just a few hours before sunset, gas to spare and plenty of time to find a safe place to spend the night. You break into a house on the outskirts of the west side of the city: a rancher with a screened-in porch, beach décor, bowls of seashells on tables and spray-painted aluminum dolphins on the wall. Baela plummets into sleep immediately, sharing the largest bed with Rhaena and Luke. Helaena writes in her spider notebook for a while before curling up on the living room couch, Daeron sprawled on the floor beside her with a couch cushion for a pillow. Aegon is in what was once a child’s bedroom; you have the bedroom of a teenage girl, perhaps spirited away to friends or relatives in some other part of the country, perhaps dead, perhaps lurching around out in the night somewhere, mad and murderous. Everything is purple, the walls, the blankets, the stuffed animals that form a mountain on the other half of the bed.

You are exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your thoughts won’t stop racing, stop craving. Aemond and Rio are in rocking chairs out on the porch, keeping watch and working their way through the case of Sunny D they found in the kitchen pantry. You go out to join them, then stop at the screen door that separates the linoleum-floored dining room from the porch. They are discussing you. You sit, legs crossed, listening in the dim silvery light, stars and moon and nothing else.

Aemond is saying: “She doesn’t talk much about where she came from.”

Rio chuckles, a low baritone rumble. “She doesn’t talk much in general. But yeah, don’t expect any juicy revelations. That’s not how she does things.”

“Do you know what her life was like before?”

“I know some of it. I don’t know a lot.” Rio pauses; you can envision him shrugging and running his fingers through his dark curly hair, weighing what you would be okay with him sharing. “I know that when I met her, her mother was calling all the time telling her to send money home. And she’d do it, because she felt like she didn’t have a choice. Then she never had cash for drinks or anything, I was always paying her way, and one day I was finally like ‘Chips, how much do you actually have in your account right now?’ because I figured she must be down real low. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe it when she showed me the balance, she had like three bucks left until her next paycheck, and of course then her mother would be calling again. She sent tens of thousands of dollars home that disappeared, poof, gone, without a trace.”

Aemond sounds stunned. “What did they spend it on?”

“Who the fuck knows with those people. Lottery tickets and cigs, probably. Trips to Virginia Beach. Benny Hinn Bibles. And when she tried to hit the brakes, her mother and siblings got nasty, calling constantly and telling her how awful she was and that they were going to starve. I convinced her to stop picking up the phone, but it took forever. I think she knew by then she was going to have to cut them off if she didn’t want to end up back there, but she needed somebody to give her permission. That was my job. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken to anyone from home in years. Hell, Sophie was her AOP.”

“AOP…?”

“Oh, sorry, Arrears of Pay. It’s the person you designate to get all your benefits if you die in the service. I guess she figured that if our base got bombed or our plane went down or something, at least it would end up with my family.”

Aemond is quiet, thirty seconds, a minute, maybe two. “Obviously my circumstances were a lot different. But I understand having to choose between other people’s expectations and yourself.”

“Why are you asking me all this?”

Another pause; silent thoughts under glimmering stars and the shrieks of short-lived summer cicadas. “She takes me out of this world for a while. She makes the guilt and the fear go quiet. I want to know everything about her.”

When Rio speaks, he is gentle, compassionate. “The hard truth is, the details aren’t my business. They aren’t yours either. When people enlist, they’re starting over. It’s a Get Out Of Jail Free card. It gets them away from home, but it also gets them away from whoever they were before.”

“She said something like that once. Back at Fort Indiantown Gap.”

“It’s a polite way of telling you to shut up.” You know from his voice that Rio is smiling. “If she wants to forget her old life, you have to let her. If you care about her, you’ll want her to be able to move on.”

“I care.”

“She likes you,” Rio says. “But you could still fuck it up. She’s good at finding reasons not to trust people.”

“It’s a bad way to live.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know. I’m the same way.”

There is quiet now, only the sounds of Sunny D being slurped and cicadas screaming through the darkness. You have intruded enough. You stand and walk back down the hallway, then remember something Aegon said outside a Burger King in Pennsylvania. You go to his bedroom, illuminated by a flashlight pointed towards the ceiling, casting long deformed shadows.

Aegon is lying on his back with his head hanging upside down over the side of the bed—dinosaur blankets, bright red and blue pillows—puffing on a cigarette and listening to his new CD player, previously Ava’s, with both earbuds in. Then he spots you. Still upside down, Aegon hits the pause button on his CD player and says: “Hey, Microchip.”

“What did you mean about people pretending to love you?”

He smirks, shrugs, takes a lazy drag off his Marlboro Gold. “Every friend I’ve ever had has used me for money, mansions, yachts. Every girl I’ve ever fucked has wanted something in return. Mother prefers Daeron, Grandfather prefers Helaena, Criston prefers Aemond, and Father prefers his real estate empire and his model ships. Can you imagine loving a miniature replica of the Titanic more than your own children?”

“No,” you say, honestly and with heavy, gore-red pity. “You shouldn’t have to go back to people who make you feel that way. I wouldn’t.”

Aegon takes another drag as he watches you. “Aemond mentioned you’re from Kentucky.”

“I am.”

“But you won’t be returning.”

“No.”

Aegon nods, like you’ve answered an important question. “Aemond talks about you a lot. It’s cute. It doesn’t make me sick like when he was with Alys. Playing her games, breaking himself in half to follow her rules.”

You peer down at your fingernails, short and functional and unglamorous. You don’t want to hear about the older woman who was his lover, his obsession, his cure, his venom. She was poisonous to him, surely, and yet she was experienced where you are uninitiated and unversed, she had a PhD to compare with your high school diploma. Surely in those seven years he shared moments with her that were divine. Surely even a curse is woven from magic.

“Anyway.” Aegon rolls over, props himself up on his elbows, and extinguishes his cigarette in an empty plastic Sunny D bottle. “I have no particular affinity for my old life or the beach house in California, but that’s where Aemond is going. And I have to be where he is. I have to make sure he’s alright, you know?”

Yes, you do know; that’s how you feel about Rio. “What’s it like? That house up on a cliff all by itself?”

Aegon grins, like he’s caught you in a mouthwateringly compromising position. “Why? You thinking about visiting someday?”

“Just wondering.”

He squirms over to one side of the bed to make room for you, popping in an earbud. “Come listen with me.”

“What is it?”

“Just come over here!”

You cross the room and kick off your sneakers, climb onto the bed, lie down and take the other earbud that Aegon offers you. What you hear when you listen is Don McLean’s American Pie. “Oh, this is ancient.”

“It’s a classic. I wish I’d gotten to live through the 70s.”

“We’ll reinvent them when the world starts up again. Disco and lava lamps and shag carpets. We’ll shoot heroin and listen to vinyl records. Jimmy Carter can be president if he’s still alive.”

Aegon snickers, and then he sings along, hushed but surprisingly melodic, solemn, tender. He’s looking at you expectantly, eyebrows raised, nodding, beckoning for you to join him. You adamantly refuse. You don’t sing in front of anybody, not even Rio.

“I met a girl who sang the blues

And I asked her for some happy news

But she just smiled and turned away

I went down to the sacred store

Where I’d heard the music years before

But the man there said the music wouldn’t play…”

Aegon shoves your shoulder. “I could be dead tomorrow. Don’t ignore me.”

Self-consciously, but smiling a little bit, you begin to sing with him, so softly you can barely hear yourself. Aegon is beaming, small even white teeth beneath sparkling eyes, a murky cool blue like storm clouds, like the ocean, waves lapping at the shores of Diego Garcia, the Gulf of Tadjoura off the east coast of Djibouti, Corpus Christi Bay, places you once never knew existed.

“And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast

The day the music died.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Another thankless day of serving cold cuts and cheese to the general public as you ready to tear your hair out. You don’t see how anyone could make such a fuss about a trip to the deli but the locals have a way of exacerbating any simplicity. You’re just happy to be free. 

The bus is late. You stand at the curb and bounce on your heels. You just want to lay down. The lack of sleep is starting to split your skull. 

You yawn and watch a truck blow by. It’s a sleepy old town, nestled between farmland and stretches of dirty roads. The sort of backwoods you don’t drive through after dark. It’s so dull you could fall asleep on your feet. 

A sudden gust of air rips through the sky and the unusual whirlwind circles you. You look up through slitted eyes as dirty speckles across your face. You furrow your brow as lights and flames glow as a red figure lands in front of you.

The electric blue haze goes out and your faced with the suit of crimson and gold. You grip your purse strap and gulp. You haven’t checked your phone yet. You couldn’t have predicted this. 

“Shit.” You mutter. 

His helmet snaps back and he smirks. The silver streaks in his dark hair puff out and he smooths them down. He puts his hand on his hip and scoffs, “name’s Tony Stark, thanks.” 

You cringe and cross your arms. “We met.” 

“Yeah, I remember you. Nearly forgot before everything blew up. You know, this thing...” he pauses to take his phone out. “Hasn’t shut up all fucking day. I got lawyers down my throat--” 

“Your phone is blowing up? My house blew up.” You sneer. 

“Okay, relax. It was a trailer. I said I’d replace it--” 

“Then do it.” 

“Ooh, spicy. I didn’t guess you to be the type but after seeing your little online storytelling, I shoulda guessed.” 

“It’s the truth. That’s it.” You turn to watch for the bus. You’re aware of the few people slowing to stare at the man in his techno-suit. 

“I mean, a little gratitude here, honey. I’m more than happy to slap a new box in the lot but you don’t gotta be this way about it.” He derides. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and scowl. “At least a smile. Bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.” 

He winks and you flinch. Really? 

“Fine. Once we have a new trailer, I’ll delete the post. Sounds pretty fair to me.” 

“Now. Take it down now and then we can go shopping for a new train car,” he chirps. 

You frown and face him. “It’s just a post.” 

“I got a reputation, sweetheart. I’m important that way. I know you might not be able to fathom that but one busted up hellhole is nothing compared to what I do for this planet. Didn’t you see me on the TV, handing out lollipops to hurricane survivors? What are you doing besides whine on the internet?” He stares you down, his expression turning sinister as his grin fades. 

“If it’s not a big deal, then it shouldn’t take much, should it?” You challenge. 

“Wow, you sure are mouthy, aren’t you?” 

“I’m tired.” You peer down the street again. “I worked a full shift and my feet hurt. You wouldn’t know about that, would you? With your penthouse and your dad’s money.” 

“I earned my company.” He snarls. “You watch where you’re stepping, sweetheart. I’m being nice. I flew all the way back to this ditch, so let’s not play dirty.” 

Your heart races. You don’t know why you’ve said so much. Maybe because you’ve worn a customer service smile all day and you’re all out of fucks to give?

And what do you have left to lose? A family that treats you like a gnat flying around their heads and a musty old futon. Your life wasn’t great before but damn if he didn’t make it a whole lot worse. 

“You do whatever. You’re Tony Stark. Iron Man.” Your tone is deflated and monotone. “I can’t do anything about it, can I? Just whine on the internet?” 

You step further down the sidewalk and stare at the approaching headlights. The bus is finally there. Even if he really means to replace the dusty old shithole, you don’t need his self-aggrandized kindness. Not if this is how it’s delivered. 

You pull out your bus fare as you sway beneath the sign. A sharp noise tweaks your ear and you’re seized in a metal vice. Your arms are trapped against your sides as Tony zooms up into the sky, the air whipping around your face as you holler in horror. 

“What-- are—you—doing?” You shriek as you wriggle, kicking into the empty void around you. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice rises from behind his helmet. “You’re gonna wanna be still. If I drop you, you’re gonna hit the ground like a bug on a windshield.” 

“What the fuck?” You exclaim and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Just givin’ you a lift home. Like a nice guy would do.” He chuckles. “Now don’t breathe too heavy up here. At this altitude... well...” 

You put your head down, shielding it against the shoulder plate of his suit, and you bend your arms to cling to him. You have no other choice but to hold on for dear life.

You get his point. Tony Stark is more than money. He can do whatever the hell he wants. 

[daisiesinvienna]

Hi! I live for your writing and i just saw that you write for daryl dixon too??

Could you write a oneshot where daryl and reader were separated after the prison, and when joe and his gang get revenge on rick she’s there instead of michonne?

Reckoning and Restitution

Title: Reckoning and Restitution

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: After you and Daryl were separated during the fall of the prison, Daryl finds himself in a gang he doesn’t want to be in while looking for you. But when Joe and his gang seek revenge on Rick for strangling one of their friends in a bathroom, you get caught in the crossfire.

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, gore, swearing, sexual assault.

Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus

Author’s Note: I had something planned for Billy but I saw this request and couldn’t resist. This is a little dark, but if you watched the scene in the show you should be alright reading this. Also I saw this big ass spider run across my floor while I was writing this and now I can’t find it so i’m gonna go sleep on the couch

The sun had begun to disappear into the horizon, casting long shadows across the cement. 

You allow yourself to admire how the sky briefly turns into a vast, endless, ever-changing canvas of color, then starts to fade. Sunsets like these always make you feel hopeful, reminding you that even though the world had ended, you still have a chance at a happy ending. The sun would always rise and set, always paint the sky those brilliant colors, despite the horrors occurring down on earth. At least for another few billion years. 

The sun slowly sinks down into the horizon, taking with it the last few golden rays of light. Now, as the three of you trudge down the desolate and winding road, the sky slowly fades to black. 

You glance over at Rick, who has his eyes fixated on something up ahead. You follow his gaze, making out the silhouette of an abandoned vehicle not too far down the road, under the branches of a particularly large tree. 

“We’ll camp here for the night,” Rick says as the three of you reach the car. He pries open the car door to inspect the interior for anything of use as you check the perimeter for walkers.

It had certainly been a long day. You and Rick had decided to take your chances and head towards Terminus, thinking you could at least see if anyone from your group had gotten the same idea. But it was far away, and a difficult trip with a kid in tow. Especially when the kid was going through the difficult pre-teen phase.

It was lucky that you had found Rick and Carl after the prison fell. Or they found you, more like. Rick had quite literally drug you from the carnage, because you were so intent on finding Daryl. It took some convincing before you finally followed Rick and Carl away from the prison. You knew that with Daryl’s inhuman tracking skills, he would have no issue finding you. But it had been at least a few weeks, and there was no sign of him. It was an understatement to say you were worried. 

You plop down on the side of the road with a sigh, calculating in your head the days until you would reach Terminus. You had been keeping relaxed and calm by telling yourself firmly that Daryl would be waiting at the gates with that pissed-off look he always seemed to have no matter his mood.

Rick sits down beside you, having set up Carl in the backseat of the old car. He rummages around his pack before pulling out the last two granola bars, holding one out to you. You wave him off, knowing it would be wasted on you and should be saved for Carl.

He doesn’t falter, giving you his signature stern look.

“Take it,” He tells you, and you slowly accept the granola bar. “You’ve barely eaten today.”

You gratefully rip open the plastic packaging and take a bite, knowing he was right. 

“Thanks,” You mumble through a mouthful of food. Rick nods, opening one for himself as he glances towards the car where Carl slept. You know all too well the look of concern etched on his face, though he tries to mask it.

“He’ll be alright,” You state, taking another bite of your granola bar. Rick sighs, averting his gaze from the broken-down car. “He’s a tough kid.”

“I just wish he didn’t have to be,” Rick mutters, staring off into the woods. You nod slowly in agreement, opening your mouth to speak when you hear a stick break under someone’s boot behind the two of you.

Your hand immediately flies to your hip, hungry for the knife you knew was tucked into your belt. But just as you had wrapped your fingers around the hilt, the cool barrel of a gun was pressed against your temple. 

About ten rough-looking men emerge from the woods, all carrying guns and looking eager, like they were excited to see what Santa had brought them for Christmas. They slowly but strategically space themselves out, surrounding you and Rick so you had no escape route. You glance at Rick, to see that he has a gun to his head too, held by a man that had a sick grin on his face.

“Oh dearie me. You fucked up, assholes,” He announces, his voice sending chills down your spine. Your knife is yanked from your belt and flung onto the concrete, and you slowly raise both of your hands into the air, knowing there was no way out. 

“You hear me? You fucked up,” The man holding a gun to Rick’s head says, laughing. He was the clear leader of the gang. “Today’s the day of reckoning, sir. Restitution! A balancing of the whole damn universe! Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year’s Eve. Now who’s gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?” 

You knew that even if you and Rick retaliate at the same time, it would be pointless. Every man in the surrounding area was pointing a gun at the two of you. This wasn’t going to be good.

“10 Mississippi!”

What would happen when he finished counting, you didn’t know. You lock eyes with Rick, and he gave you a look that makes it plain you weren’t to try anything. Not yet, at least.

“9 Mississippi!”

You glance at the car parked a few yards away. One of the men was looking in the window at Carl, waving and grinning maliciously. Carl had woken up, and he looked from the man outside his window to his Dad, who was on his knees with a gun to his head.

“8 Mississippi!”

“Joe!” You hear someone shout. From behind the car, a man cautiously walks out. It was dark, so you can’t quite make out their face, but you could never forget that southern drawl. Your heart skips a beat.

“Hol’ up,” Daryl murmurs, stepping into a patch of moonlight. You stare at him in disbelief. Your eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes it clear he doesn’t want any of this. His eyes dart from you to the guy behind you, who was still pressing a gun to your temple. You feel a surge of hopefulness. Daryl wouldn’t let this happen.

“You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl,” Joe retorts, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“Just hold up,” Daryl mutters again, clearly looking for a way to stop this without pissing Joe off.

“This is the guy that killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about!” Shouts a gruff looking man with a shotgun.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl,” Joe says, gesturing at him with the air of giving him the spotlight.

“These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. These are good people,” Daryl says softly to Joe, almost pleading. There was a hint of panic in his voice, though his facial expression was determinedly calm. You had never heard him speak this way before.

“Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll of course have to speak for him and all because your friend here, strangled him in a bathroom!” Joe yells.

“You want blood. I get it. Take it from me, man,” Daryl says, throwing his crossbow aside and raising his hands in surrender.

“No!” You shout immediately, scrambling to your feet. “Daryl, No!”

The man behind you roughly yanks you back to the ground. You try to pull yourself from his grasp, but you stop struggling against him when you hear the click of the safety on his gun. The man covers your mouth with his hand.

“Hush up now, bitch. I don’t want to have to shoot you yet,” He says, pressing the barrel to your temple. You instantly feel sick to your stomach.

“You keep your hands off her!” Daryl says firmly, taking a furious step towards the two of you with murder in his eyes, before two guys grab onto his arms and yank him back. 

“This man killed our friend!” Joe laughs, smiling broadly. “You say he’s good people. See, that right there… is a lie.”

“It’s a lie!” Joe repeats triumphantly. This seems to be some sort of code, because to your horror, a good number of the men surrounding you advance on Daryl. 

Daryl swings at the one who reaches him first, knocking him to the ground with one powerful blow. Before he can even turn around, the other men are on him. 

“No!” You shout desperately, watching Daryl try and fend off at least six guys. Daryl was strong, but he was significantly overpowered. “He didn’t do anything! Leave him alone!”

Daryl manages to land a few blows on his attackers, but they soon manage to get him on the ground. 

“Teach ‘em fellas, teach ‘em all the way!” Joe laughs. He then gave the other men a nod, which you soon realize was the ‘go ahead.’

The man holding onto you shove you forward onto the ground, and you hit your head painfully on the concrete. Before you realize what was happening, you are roughly flipped onto your back and the man had crawled on top of you. You hear the sound of the car door opening, and Carl’s yelp as someone drug him out of the car and flung him on the ground.

“You leave him be!” Rick shouts angrily. You could hear the sounds of grunts and fists colliding with flesh somewhere behind you, and knew that Daryl was putting up a hell of a fight.

The man on top of you pins your hands above your head with one of his, and you thrash and shout as you struggle to escape his grip. 

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s so much more fun when you fight it,” The man purrs, smirking down at you as he roughly tore your shirt off, buttons scattering onto the road.

“No! No, stop it! Get- off- me!” You shout, starting to panic as he roughly grabs at your chest.

“Don’tcha fuckin’ touch her!” Daryl yells furiously from behind you, but his shouts are silenced as the men continue to land blow after blow.

“Listen it was me, it was just me!” Rick shouts desperately as Carl’s yelps become louder from next to the car. Tears are streaming down your face as you struggle against the man above you. What did they want with Carl?

“See now that’s right! That’s not some damn lie. We can settle this, we’re reasonable men,” Joe says, sounding genuinely entertained by the sight before him, as if he was watching the ending of a suspenseful movie.

“First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death,” Joe says. It sounds like Daryl’s resisting was starting to slow, but the impact of fists didn’t falter. If anything, they sped up.

“Daryl!” You yell as a last resort, the man starting to fiddle with the button on your cargo pants. You desperately try to free yourself, knowing what was going to happen to you if you didn’t escape. “Daryl!”

The man grabs you roughly by your hair, lifts your head, and hits it hard against the concrete below you. You groan, impossible pain flooding your head. You were too dizzy to struggle, and as your vision faded in an out you fought with all your might to stay conscious. Going unconscious in this situation would be deadly.

“Then we’ll all have the girl,” Joe says as quiet sobs escape you. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone.

“Then the boy,” Joe laughs. You could faintly hear the sound of Carl’s cries for help, and someone laughing loudly.

“Then I’m gonna shoot you, and then we’ll be square!” Joe laughs manically, foolishly bending down behind Rick. But his laughter was silenced by the slight inconvenience of Rick breaking his nose with the back of his head. Rick lunged for his gun, and the two started scuffling. The man on top of you didn’t care too much.

“What’s the matter, girl? No more fight left in ya?” He laughs, starting to attempt to pull your cargo pants down, ignoring your quiet begging.

Everyone suddenly turns around in shock to look at Rick and Joe when a horrible scream pierces the air. Then, somebody spat.

You seize the opportunity, and in the moment of silence, you use your remaining strength to knee your distracted attacker in the balls as hard as you possibly could. He shouts in pain, bringing his hand down to hit you across the face, making you see stars. The gunshots ringing through the air drowns out whatever vulgar word he calls you. Rick had gotten his hands on a gun, and you hear multiple bodies drop behind you. Before you know what’s happening, Daryl lunges out of nowhere and tackles your attacker, knocking him off of you.

Daryl got on top of the man, landing blow after blow on his face. He had a look of pure rage his eyes that you’d never seen before. Rick was violently stabbing the man who grabbed Carl. You scramble to your feet, ignoring the dizziness, looking around frantically. Bodies littered the ground. All of the men were dead, except for Joe, who was still choking on his own blood on the pavement.

Daryl finally stops hitting the man, before pulling his knife from his hip and stabbing him through the heart. Rick had long but killed Carl’s attacker, and you hear the body drop. Then there was almost complete silence, only broken by Joe gurgling and spluttering blood onto the pavement and the ringing in your ears.

Daryl turns to look at you, scanning you for injuries. His face is horribly bruised and bloody. When he stands up, Daryl stumbles up to you and immediately pulls you into his arms. You sink into them gratefully, before the tears started.

He holds you close, apologizing over and over again for hundreds of different things as you cry into his chest.

You’ll never admit it, but you were losing hope that you’d ever see him again. He very well could’ve died at the prison and you never would have known. But now as you clung to him, you realize that that was a stupid thing to think. Nothing could kill Daryl Dixon, except Daryl Dixon.

“I never stopped lookin’ for ya,” Daryl murmurs, his voice cracking. You look up at him to see tears streaming down his face. You’d never seen him cry before. “‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry.”

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training XI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. Your breathing was shaky and far too heavy, and your chest felt way too tight. The air on your face felt much cooler from the tears that soaked your skin, and you swore that you felt the sheets rip beneath your fingers. You knew for a fact that your other hand was pressing into Peter’s arm so hard that it drew blood.

He didn’t seem to mind though.

Peter was way more preoccupied with the feel of you. Through a tearful gaze, you watched him throw his head back, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly inhaled. You couldn’t stop trembling, half in disbelief and half wanting to rip your hair out. The feel of Peter’s cock inside of you had lessened to a dull pulsing feeling between your legs, and when you shifted, you both hissed.

…but for different reasons.

When Peter finally opened his eyes, he lowered his head to gaze at you. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you had a feeling that your expression reflected what you felt inside. Peter’s expression fell some, and he blinked at you, frowning slightly before leaning down to brush his lips over yours.

“You’re okay,” he softly told you. “You’re okay.”

“No,” you finally choked out, finding your voice after some time. “I’m not.”

You dug your nails harder into his skin, not out of malice, but more so as a means to ground yourself. To hold onto something, because you felt completely out of control, like you were floating aimlessly, and the thought made more tears escape.

“Peter, please stop,” you shakily breathed, your gaze pleading as you looked into his dark eyes. “Please…”

You let the sheets go to press your hand into his chest, pushing hard, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he gripped your wrist, briefly squeezing it before gently pinning it to the bed. He leaned in some more, the action causing his hips to move just a tad, and you were suddenly strongly reminded of the presence of him inside of you.

You pressed your lips together, a whine escaping as you drew more blood. Peter hissed at the action, but he didn’t seem all that upset. When you looked closely enough, you could see the ghost of a smile on his pink lips, and he gently pressed his forehead to yours. His breathing was loud in your ear, and Peter briefly closed his eyes.

“I really wanted this day to be a happy one for you,” he slowly told you, sounding almost…disappointed. “It should be, after all.”

Peter leaned in to kiss your trembling lips again.

“Steve can be an asshole, sometimes…but I won’t let him ruin this.”

He kissed along your jaw and towards your neck, and you didn’t know how to tell him that he was making this day worse. The feel of him on you, in you, was making you emotional beyond comprehension. When Peter kissed you again, he slowly pulled his hips back, making you sharply gasp, and you hated the way your hips lifted too…like he was pulling you with him, attached by a string.

When he drove himself into you again, torturously slow, you dragged your nails down his arm. You could feel yourself leaving bloody streaks with the action, and Peter only groaned. You didn’t know if it was from that or from the feel of you wrapped tightly around him. He was so quiet for a while at first, just slowly pushing into you and fully immersing himself in what you felt like.

However, once your lack of reaction became apparent, that changed.

“Open up for me, pretty girl,” he murmured, letting your wrist go to reach down and rest his hand on your thigh.

He pushed on it, making your legs widen, and you couldn’t swallow down your sharp exhale. Peter completely ignored your hands on him as you tried to push him away, curving his hips into yours and stretching you out with every thrust. Every push of his cock became easier and smoother than the last, and you hated it.

At least, you thought you did.

You didn’t like that Peter was on top of you, trapping you between his body and the bed. You didn’t like that your senses were completely invaded by the smell and feel and sound of him. You hated that he was inside of you, his cock pushing into you and stroking your walls in a way that made you shudder. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t ignore the heat that settled deep in the pit of your gut.

You told yourself that it was your body’s natural reaction. As much as you liked to think you were so far removed from your baser instinct, you were an animal. A homo sapiens, but an animal nonetheless, and your body was going to react to certain things no matter how you personally felt. That was easy enough to accept and tell yourself, but when Peter ran his hand up your stomach, fingers gliding between your breasts, you couldn’t hold in your whimper.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” Peter whispered. “Perfect. Like you were made for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and Peter tutted.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he softly pleaded. “Let me see you…”

He plunged into you with a particularly hard thrust, holding himself there as your back arched.

“Please,” he begged. “Show me those pretty eyes.”

His hand was on your face, thumb softly brushing over your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding from him as he continued to fuck you. Your hand clutched his back, and for some reason, his gentle and loving words made you cry harder. Maybe you wanted him to be mean? Cruel? Although, you supposed that he was already being that, wasn’t he? Perhaps you wanted him to be more like Steve that day in the yard.

The sight of his rough movements and Margaret was burned into your brain. It was a memory that struck you frozen and cold with fear, but at least if Peter was like that, it would be so much easier to hate him. You didn’t want him to be gentle with you, his touch almost loving in nature like you were some couple making love after a day apart.

You hated that it was making you feel good, driving you towards the edge.

You’d stopped crying, a little too horrified with what you felt happening. You could feel that familiar coil tighten in your stomach, strings attached to it that pulled at every nerve in your body. Your breathing started to hitch, and when Peter’s hand slid to your neck, he pushed you back down onto the bed, preventing you from hiding your face. On instinct, your hands reached up, clasping onto his wrist, and your eyes flew open.

Your tearful eyes met his enraptured ones, and Peter couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It was like he didn’t want to look away, didn’t want to miss a single expression on your face as he brought his tongue between his lips. He was slow to sheath himself inside of you again and again, and when you lifted your hips, your entire body tensing up, he sighed, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let go, pretty girl. Let go.”

You didn’t want to, fighting it and trying to starve it off for as long as you could.

Peter could tell.

“Nuh uh,” he breathed. “None of that…”

“Peter,” you murmured, almost pleadingly.

“No, no, let go,” he urged, hand tightening on your throat. “Relax and let go. It’s okay.”

You pressed a hand to his lower stomach, trying to stop his thrusts, and Peter mirrored you, pressing his own hand into your stomach hard and making you gasp. You could feel yourself tensing more, seizing up and gasping for breath as your orgasm crawled over you, slowly filling you and taking control until you were a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Good girl,” he quietly drawled. “Look at you…doing so good for me.”

His hand was still on your throat, squeezing and holding you in place while you rode out your climax underneath him, clenching down onto him.

“Just like that,” you heard him say. “Deep breaths…”

When the stars behind your eyes started to fade, Peter finally came back into focus. He was still lazily thrusting into you, fucking you through it, and when he slowed to a stop, you realized that he hadn’t come, at all. He was still hard when he pulled out of you, and the feel made you shudder. You kept your gaze on the ceiling as he kissed you, slow and long, before finally pulling away.

Absentmindedly, you could hear him going into the bathroom, and it wasn’t long before the sound of running water reached your ears. He wasn’t inside of you anymore, but you swore you could still feel him there, still feel that dull ache of his cock in you. You only just realized how cold you felt despite the light sheen of sweat that coated your skin. You shakily reached up, hands covering yourself just as Peter returned.

He was gentle in grabbing them, pulling you to your feet, and you closed your eyes when he pressed his lips to your forehead. Peter wrapped his arms around you as he guided you into the bathroom, and you felt so removed from your body as he pressed his chest to your back. You’d crossed the inevitable line with Peter, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Easy,” he warned, helping you into the bathtub, the hot water jolting you back into reality. “It’s hot.”

You clung to the arm that was around you as he lowered you both into the water. It had the strong scent of oils and soap, and Peter forced you to lean your head back against his shoulder. You were all too aware of his naked body against your equally naked one, hands running over you as he grabbed the loofah. The memory of him inside of you made you tremble, but his soft touch as he cleaned the sweat from your body had the opposite effect.

You could feel Peter pressing his face into your hair as he cleaned you, almost inaudible praises leaving his lips.

“You were so good…you know that?”

You didn’t respond, watching him clean the inside of your thighs.

“You felt better than I even imagined.”

You got the feeling that you were supposed to be flattered.

…but all you wanted to do was cry.

So, you did.

Peter hummed at the sound, pulling you closer and making soft shushing noises.

“I know,” he softly comforted you.

Hot water dripped over your skin as he squeezed the loofah.

“It’s okay to feel good, Y/N…to let me make you feel good,” he continued. “You’re mine, after all, and I take good care of everything that belongs to me.”

Those words caused an internal conflict within you, torn between a deep sense of shame and disgust…and a small sliver of relief. Peter would take care of you. He’d said that many times, including now, and there was something in you that just wanted to let him. After all, he protected you from Steve, and, as the blond had so eloquently pointed out, held your hand through this entire ordeal.

It would be favorable if he wasn’t the reason you were here to begin with.

“Didn’t I take good care of you…?” he wondered, voice lowering. “Hmm?”

You nodded when he pressed you for an answer, your cheek resting on his chest as you turned your head. Peter held you to him, playing with your hair, and when he spoke again, you shuddered.

“Things will be so much easier for you when you let me.”

When…not if. The distinction made your heart sink, because as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew it was only a matter of when, not if, and you blinked as a few more tears escaped. Peter squeezed more water onto you, and when his free hand tilted your chin up, you knew that he wanted a kiss.

When you woke up, the feel of fingertips dragging over the skin of your back was the only thing you could focus on. It was a soothing feeling, something that almost lulled you back to sleep, but the knowledge of who the hand belonged to prevented you from doing so. A shudder traveled down your spine, and he hummed.

Peter fucked you well into the night. After he’d pulled you from the water, he’d pulled you into another kiss, and the water on your skin dampened the bed when he laid you down. Peter was determined to taste every part of you, and you would’ve thought that he didn’t have the rest of your lives to do that. It overwhelmed you, forcing you to freeze up several times as he covered your mouth with his own.

In the rare moments that panic broke through, forcing you to cry and fight against him, Peter was calm in holding you down until you quieted. He seemed to have an abundance of patience as he held himself inside of you, watching you cry and waiting for it to be over. When he finally did come inside of you, you’d been coming undone beneath him for the third time. His fingers had been threaded with yours, holding them down as his teeth scraped along your neck.

The sounds that left him were animalistic, a stark contrast from the words he murmured moments later.

“My pretty girl,” he’d whispered. “All mine.”

It was so confusing to be comforted and looked after by the same hands that held you down. It was mind bending to cry as Peter forced pleasure on you, and then to cry some more as he held you and stroked your face. He was your source of torment and also your only source of comfort. Who else would you cry to if not him? Who else would you safely and comfortably confide in if not him?

The feel of lips on the side of your face pulled you from your thoughts, and you slowly blinked. Your entire body ached, and even if you wanted to move, you didn’t think that you could. He brushed his lips over your temple and then your cheek and jaw before they finally grazed the corner of your mouth. You could feel his hand kneading into your waist through the sheet.

You didn’t even know what time it was, and faintly, you wondered about breakfast.

As if your mind had decided to bring your thoughts to life, there was a knock on the door. The sound of it made you jump, and you looked towards the door with wide eyes as if somehow knowing exactly who was on the other side. Peter noticed your discomfort, softly shushing you and rubbing your arm as he sat up. When he made his way towards the door, more decent, now, you blanched at the sight of his back.

You hadn’t remembered doing that, at all, and your eyes drifted to your fingernails…and the slight dried blood beneath them.

“Is there any reason she’s not downstairs with the rest?”

Steve’s voice was as cold and stern as ever, making you shrink in on yourself, twisting your hands into the sheet. Peter stood in the opening of the cracked door, completely blocking you from view, and you swallowed. You’d overslept? The thought made your heart race, and in all the times you’d screwed up, you’d never flat out overslept and missed your duties.

You struggled to sit up, fear and worry filling you just as Peter spoke.

“She’s indisposed for the day, Steve,” Peter told him, shocking you. “Making her work would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

Peter’s tone was light, teasing, but both you and Steve knew there was a strong hint of truth there.

“It’s not like she couldn’t use more of that,” the blond replied, making you frown. “…but alright.”

He paused, and you were unable to see any kind of visual exchange between them.

“I’m glad to hear that either way,” Steve evenly said, but there was a lilt in his voice that told you his sentiments were genuine.

Peter’s gaze met yours when he shut the door, turning to face you with a small smile. You must’ve been wearing your confusion because when he reached you, he took your face into his hands, gently kissing you.

“You’ve had a long night. Of course, I wouldn’t let you do anything other than…rest,” he said, a small smile dancing along his lips as he drank you in.

You noticed the way his gaze lingered on the top of the sheet, his eyes tracing your skin.

“You feeling okay…?”

What a loaded question.

You knew what Peter meant, of course. Did you feel hurt? Unwell? Concerningly sore? However, your mind could only drift to your captivity and how alone you felt and how even if you wanted to find comfort in any of the other women here, you couldn’t. Your every move outside of this room was watched, scrutinized, leaving the only place to fully cope…with Peter.

“I’m okay,” you finally whispered, addressing what you knew he meant.

“Good,” he whispered, kneeling before you and taking your chin in his fingers. “I want you to be okay.”

You warily eyed him as he looked between your eyes.

“I know you remember what I showed you when you first got here…with Steve and…”

Peter trailed off, and you sharply inhaled, blinking.

“I want you to know that that…that’ll never be us. At least…I hope not,” he was quick to add. “I think you’d have to do something pretty heinous for me to ever resort to that.”

Peter held your gaze as he said this, tone sincere, and he stroked your skin.

“When I touch you…it won’t be like that. I don’t want you to be in pain, to be hurting. I’ll always only want to ever make you feel good,” he whispered.

You looked down at that, gaze finding the floor.

“Steve doesn’t agree.”

There was a heavy silence at your words, both of you recalling what the blond had thrown at Peter the night before. If Steve had it his way, Peter would’ve tied you to that same tree and debased you in front of half the household. There was a part of you that was convinced he’d still force Peter to do that one day, but if you could count on Peter for anything, it was to protect you from Steve’s wrath.

“No…he doesn’t,” Peter eventually agreed. “…but you’re not his.”

You looked up at that, eyes meeting his.

“You’re mine.”

For the first time, those words didn’t make your stomach twist in discomfort. Instead, relief settled in your gut, grateful that you didn’t belong to Steve…but instead Peter. You swallowed and watched him as he stood, and you closed your eyes when his hand rested on the back of your head, cheek pressed to his stomach.

“You know that, now…right…?”

You recalled your angry words from last night, tearfully proclaiming that you didn’t want to belong to Peter. You recalled the slight pause, the way his eyes had glinted, the almost hint of hurt you saw there. Your gaze lowered to the ring on your hand, a symbol of that ownership, and as much as you hated the sight of it, something in you saw it as a shield.

A barrier between you and Steve’s ire, his unquenchable desire to break you down in the same way he’d done to Margaret.

You were Peter’s…and Steve couldn’t hurt you.

“Yes,” you finally answered Peter’s question, almost too quietly. “I know that.”

Peter’s hand under your chin tilted your head up, and he leaned in when his eyes met yours.

“Are you sure?”

Pressing your lips together, you reluctantly nodded.

You weren’t surprised when Peter kissed you again, but that didn’t mean you were eager when his hand drifted to your naked shoulder, trailing towards the sheet and fingering the material. You ducked your head, heart pounding as memories of last night assaulted you. Peter only rested his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin.

“I thought you said you were mine,” he murmured, and you felt him take your hand.

Pain flared in your finger as he squeezed the ring.

“I am,” you shakily assured him.

When he pulled away, his dark gaze met yours, only briefly, but it was enough.

Reluctantly, you didn’t turn away when he kissed you again, and when his arm snaked around your waist, you didn’t push it away no matter how much you wanted to. Peter was like a man starved as he laid you down, hovering over you as he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin.

You clenched your teeth when he wrapped his lips around one of your breasts, tears in your eyes at the conflicting emotions you felt. Peter raped you—he was raping you—and despite the horror and helplessness you did feel, you could only manage to tell yourself that it could be so much worse. He could be brutally taking you outside for all to see. He could be hurting you to the point of making you bleed, to the point of bruising you.

Peter could be so much worse, it was true, but he was still bad.

You kept telling yourself that, kept repeating it to yourself, but the way his hands danced over you didn’t feel bad. The way his lips left gentle kisses on your skin didn’t feel bad, at all. His soothing praises and his fingers on your face and his teeth scraping your neck, nothing about it felt bad even though you knew you didn’t want it.

You struggled to breathe as he thrust into you, hands on your waist and holding the lower half of you up as his knees pressed into the bed. Your hands slid along the bed as your gaze became fixated on the ceiling, fighting to hold in the moans you wanted to let out as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had you squirming against your will.

Your first orgasm snuck up on you, and you jerked beneath him, and like the night before, Peter was confident that you could take another. Your own hands covered his, trying to pry them off, the overstimulation making your senses go haywire.

“Peter, please-I can’t,” you breathlessly pleaded.

You needed a minute to breathe, to think, to wrap your head around how quickly you’d been forced into the inevitable chapter of your captivity that you thought—hoped you could avoid.

“Shh,” he softly soothed you. “I know you can, pretty girl.”

He had your hips pinned, and when you looked at him, the determination in his eyes to get what he wanted told you to just give up. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, sliding and digging into the mattress. Against your better judgement, you reached up to press your hands against his stomach, and Peter sucked his teeth.

“Stop,” he slowly drawled, one hand sliding up to press down just below your chest. “Stop it.”

“Peter-.”

“None of that,” he whispered, his dark eyes staring you down as he slowly pushed his cock into you. “Behave…and take it.”

You didn’t have a choice, something you already knew, but you still threw your head back, tears kissing your eyes. You could hear it every time he thrust into you, an embarrassing sound that made you squeeze your eyes shut. The hand just under your chest made it’s way to your neck, and Peter pressed his thumb to the front of your throat.

He leaned down, his body fully pressed to yours, now, and you opened your eyes, unsurprised to find his gaze already on you. He stared into your eyes as he dipped into you, his cock plunging into your walls as he made a home between your thighs. His thumb grazed your chin before completely swiping along your mouth, his other fingers still on your neck.

“I’m so glad I chose you…”

His thumb pulled your bottom lip down just a tad, another thrust making your toes curl.

“…and I know you will be too.”

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x Reader: Awakening Chapter Five

Chapter Five: I’m Done Saving You

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

TW/Tags: non? Based on the title you already know what’s coming. Good luck nerds.

(Chapter 5 is finally here and I’m pretty excited for this one. Sadly there is much to add for Elita and reader so most likely in the next chapter. Sorry guys the movie isn’t making it any easier for me or just can’t think of any that doesn’t ruin the movie too much. I was dreading to type in the scene where D. Shoots Orion and it didn’t feel right to add in the expressions of Y/N, Elita and B because that moment is for D-16 and Orion in my opinion. Oh boy the next chapter is gonna hurt but I want to make y’all happy so here we go.)

(The next chapter will be the last one and then 5 bonus endings after)

*At Iacon City-

Y/N was about to sneak into the city the same way the gaurds were able to. Paying o mind if others see them as they fly in their alt mode. Landing in an alley between buildings. The view clear of sentinels tower. They would then look around and say. The bots they once saw to be taller then them was now around the Sam seize as them having a cog now. They would let out a sigh and then walk out making their eye to the tower. Knowing if they were in their alt mode. They would be questioned. But as they walked passing the road and walking on the side walk as they walked around. Seeing that there’s an alleyway that seems to lead to the tower sooner. They. Go down that path. As they walk someone then grabs their hand. Causing them to quickly turn around pin the person against the wall.

”Woah easy there friend I just wanted to tell- Y/N” It was Deadlock

”Lo- uh sorry you got me confused with someone else.”

They would then try to leave but deadlock would grab their wrist and pull them back and turns them around putting his had on their shoulder.

“Y/N it is you! But. But you have a cog!” Y/N was just 5 inches shorter then him now.

”Uh yeah I should really get going.” Deadlock would rests his hand on their hip as he looked at them. They would place their hands on his shoulders to try to create some distance

”Y/N where have you been and how do you have a cog. Come on lets catch up.”

”Deadlock I would love to but I must go. My friend is possibly in danger and I should go make sure they’re safe.” Deadlock looks almost disappointed. Then over the comm its heard his boss is calling for him. He then sighs

”Fine but seeing that you have a cog now. Come by the club and we can catch up.”

”Will do Deadlock now I must go. Good to see you friend.” They pat his shoulders as he finally out his hands off them. Watching as they leave before turning around to head to work

Y/N continues to walk to the tower then once seeing the security they come up with an idea remembering what sentinel said the day of the race. They would then go up to the two guards

”Heeeey guys name’s Y/N sentinel said he was expecting me?” The two gaurds look at eachother then at them. Nodding then letting them in after giving them directions to the personal quarter sentinel told them to tell you to go to

Y/N would then walk in able to go through a door to the others sneaking around trying to find the room while also being quiet. Soon they would peak through a door and see D-16, B-127, and the other guards on their knees and their hands tied behind their back as sentinel walks past them in a line speaking an d having his average smirk on his face

“I don’t understand. Why are we still alive?”

“Look at this rowdy bunch. The High Guard. You know you guys have been tough to find. Every trip to the surface I have been searching for you.”

“Tracking the bots in the cave led me right to them.”

“You captured Starscream.”

“It was too easy.”

“I’m going to rip you apart piece by piece and that your death is painful and you’ll regret the day you”

“You sound ridiculous. It’s weird. Oh D-16 what a tragic story you’ll be. Atop the leaderboard in your sector. Secretly a traitor.”

“I’m not the traitor. You’re the traitor.’

“Nuh-uh. You. All of you are traitors. You’ve been working with the Quintessons to sabotage atoge my expeditions You’re the reason I haven’t found the matrix of leadership yet.”

“None of that is true!”

“Oh trust me all of that will be very true when I am executing you in front of all of Iacon because down here the truth is what I make it.”

Sentinel would get into Bs face before D would take a step.

“Well well. What’s this about?”

“I’m not kneeling in front of you.”

“Feeling confident are we?”

“You dont scare me. You wanna know why?”

“Please.”

“Because I don't anything else left to lose. You took it all.”

“I sure did.”

Sentinel would then punch D.

“Ah megatronus prime. Of course you are a fan. Megatronus was the coolest prime! The biggest. The Baddest. The Toughest! That's why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself.”

“He was greater than you’ll ever be!”

“I don’t know I’m pretty great but I can understand why you would wanna wear his face over mine. Here, lets make sure it doesn’t come off.”

Sentinel would put the sticker back then starts engraving the deception insignia into his chest. The others only able to watch. Y/N knows that they have seen enough and without a second thought they open the door and as the others were about to notice in a moment Y/N was running pulled out their blade. Putting the blade against his neck catching him by surprise. The gaurds and airachnid pointing her guns at them

“Shoot me and he dies!”

“Ahh Y/N I see you have a cog as well-“

“Shut up! Sentinel prime is it true you did it all for power…Is it?!” Sentinel then scoffs

”Well of course. Any Prim-“

”You are no prime! And I swear in the memory and honor of my friends…to B and D I’ll-“ Then Y/N is shot on their side by one of the guard causing them to fall onto their knees as sentinel stands before them.

”Well isn’t this just a shame. You know I was pretty excited to work with you. Of course it not including the two miners you so cared for. Maybe there is use for you seeing that you’re all about honor. And you’re not labeled dead yet by the public.” Y/N still on the ground. The bullet almost through their waist almost to the center

”We’ll be sure the best doctor of Iacon will take care of that wound” He would then grab their chin making their face look up fullly facing him after he took a knee. he then snaps his fingers. Two guards walking and grabbing them by the arms picking them up.

”Make sure they’re well taken care of” Y/N was then dragged and taken towards the door they cam from.

*Orion-

“Ooookaaay. I-I can do this.”

*At the mines-

“You can’t be serious. We just worked 22 shifts without a break. These miners need rest and time to repair.”

“Sentinel Prime wants more energon. So get back into the mines! Before I make you go back in-“

“Is that-“

“Orion?”

“Jazz.”

“Is that really you?”

“Yeah I know I uh- look a little different.”

“Little? There’s nothing little about you.”

“How is this possible?”

“Sentinel told us you died from your race injuries.”

“Sentinel is a lair. Look, I know sounds coming from me. I was never the most focused. Miner but as you can see everything’s different now.”

“I went to the surface. And I learned the truth. My friends. We were all born with transformation cogs. And then sentinel. He stole them from us! He took away our ability to make our own decisions. He stole our freedom. But now I’m offering you your first real choice. You can work a twenty-third shift and mine yourself to death. Or fight back against sentinel with me. Right now.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

“We can’t fight. We don’t have cogs.”

“What defines a transformer is not the cog in its chest but the spark that resides in their core. A spark that gives you the will to make your world better and that spark sentinel can never take from us.”

“There’s not enough of us. We need an army.”

“And we have one. Elita is bringing troops. We are not alone in this. If we want to be in control of our own destiny we will have to fight for it. Now is the time for us to stand up. For ourselves! Stand up for this injustice. I promise you this fight will be worth it. Follow me! Nothing can stop us when we stand together. Together as one.”

“Elita it’s time.”

“You got it. Buckle up blinky. We’re going in.”

Back to the others D heard everything sentinel and Y/N said. Hearing the guards take Y/N away as they groan in pain. He the tried to stand up again.

“Not a good idea.”

“D stay down.”

D would stand up once more

“Well that’s a shame. You really were a great miner.”

”D! Run!….”

Sentinel points his blaster at D as D watches. Waiting.

“We’ve got a breach! Protect Sentinel!” A guard would hit D to fall back again as another would join them to protecting sentinel. Y/N was still carried away. Now further from where the direction the train was heading as the guards noticed

“Ok they spotted us. It’s about to get bumpy.”

“High Guard. Eject.”

“There’s too many! We have to abort.”

“We’re not going to make it.”

From there many miners with jet packs fly up and start fighting sentinels guards. Helping the others

“Lets break some protocol.”

“That’s what I’m talking about Pax!”

Pax was then attacked against the front of the train by Airachnid

“Ooooh that’s intense.”

“You can’t win miner! I see everything!”

“That’s right you do! Except the tower we’re about to crash into.”

Orion would then kick Airachnid off him. Hitting the window with his elbow breaking it to get in and the train soon hits the tower. Hitting Sentinel

(HE DID THE POSE FHGFGJFGVUDKKYKUCFKUVU)

“Hey!”

“What has he done to you?!”

“This is nothing! Compared to what I’m going to do to sentinel.”

”Y/N!!” The guards have left leaving them on the floor. They would then stand up and put a sort fo tissue over their bullet hole. Something ratchet gave them before. They would make their way to the two limping a bit. Orion going up to them

”I’m fine. We need to stop sentinel.” They say as they look at Orion and D. D unable to take his eyes off the energon coming of them as Orion does the same

“Soundwave, free the prisoners.”

“I know how to stop him. Airachnid is the answer-“

“I’m doing this my way!”

“D!”

“Yes! Woah! I got a battle mask. Elita! Battle mask! It appeared when this guy tried to- Knife hands? I have knife hands! Haha! Baddassatron!”

“Where’s sentinel?!”

There was then an explosion causing D, Y/N and Orion to fall forward. They would then hide behind some rocks as they then hear sentinel

“You pathetic little twits. Did you really think you can knock down everything that I have built?!”

“It’s over sentinel! You can’t escape the truth!”

“What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off the Quintessons and live like a king. None of that matters! Because the truth is what I make it!”

“In coming!”

D and sentinel will then have their own fight as the three try to think of a plan

“He’s too strong!”

“I have a plan. We need Airachnid.”

“Airachnid?!”

”Are you crazy?!

“We need her memory.”

“Where is she?!”

Elita was tackled by Airachnid

“Found her!”

“Elita. Do not break her. Bring her to the broadcast station. We'll meet you there.”

“Easier said than done!”

“I said don't break her!”

“Relax I’m being. Very. Gentle!”

“Orion! Orion look! Knife hands!”

“I can see that!”

”Yeah Bee!!” They then show their sword blades they picked up earlier showing they glow as well. B then cheers excited

“I’m gonna cut these guys watch! Come here!”

“You can jab them later!”

“GO! I’ll stay here and help D!”

”All right b careful!”

“Yeah!”

The three make thier way to the other tower. D and sentinel continueing to fight eachother. Y/N staying behind and joining the fight with D

“Um. E-excuse me, you can’t be in here.”

B then starts destroying the place

“B. These are not the ad guys.”

“Why did you cut the door?”

“What? No I didn’t cu- I didn’t- uh that wasn’t- I didn’t- it was ready like that. Right?!”

“Yes that’s right It- it was already like- yeah-was already like that.”

Orion then got to work and Elita made sure Airachnid was on the table her hologram memory showing.

“Attention. Iacon city. Stand by for a live transmission from Sentinel Prime.”

During thre fight D and sentinel keep fighting all ove the room causing more damag. Y/N waits for the right moment and once sentinel was believing he has D. Y/N jumps and transformers their alt mode on its side and spins fast pushing him off D (Think like that scene Megatron does in TF Earthspark to skyward during that big battle scene.) Scratching his paint job as they land right next to D pulling out their blades protective over D.

”D are you alright?!” D stands up and shakes his head a bit trying to stay awake

”This is my fight. Go to-“

”Will you quiet that! You can finish him off after I get a good hi-“

Y/N was then tackled by sentinel being pinned to the ground as they were far enough from D. Y/N would fight him getting a couple good hits and sentinel getting a few more hits on them. After kicking him of them D then side body slams sentinel. Y/N struggling to stand up as D then starts fighting sentinel again. Y/N is badly injured and struggles to stand. When they look up at the two. D is back on the ground and sentinel on top pointing his blaster as him again

“What’s wrong D-16? Rise up!”

“That’s why after I killed him. That’s why after I killed him. I took his cog for myself. Cog for myself. What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! What truth? That I pluck the cogs from your newborn chests. Forced you to mine so that I can pay off Quintessons and live like a king! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest! I’m working my miners as hard as I can. I swear I’ll get you the rest!”

“Lier!”

“We trusted you!”

“Traiter!”

“Pax, we did it!”

After sentinel was distracted Y/N was able to make their way to D. Helping them up while holding their waist where they bleed a bit at. D would stand back up with their help.

”Stay back you helped enough!” He yells at them. Knowing they helped make sentinel get weaker after hitting him with their blades.

“D NO!”

D then charges at him. Causing them both to fall off the tower.

“D!”

The two would fly across the city hitting towers until they eventually land. Y/N would transform as they gain more strength while swirling a bit they’re able to make it but pretty far from the two transforming and is still weak staying on the knees as they watch the two fight. Slowly standing up.

“D-16. We can lead Cybertron together! Don’t have to do this.”

D would walk up to sentinel pointing his canon until Orion runs and jumps D. Stopping him.

“What are you doing?!”

“It’s over D. Everyone in Iacon knows the truth”

“So do I! He took everything from us! I have to do this!”

“No you don’t! Rebuilding Iacon cannot begin with an execution.”

“He deserves to die! Can’t you see that?!”

“We’re better than this. Don’t be like sentinel.”

“Pax. You need to get out of my way before I move you myself.”

“D listen-“

D would punch Orion and kick him further for Orion to stay on the ground. Then walking back to sentinel as sentinel was still on the floor. But Orion soon gets in the way. Orion wa shot shocking D and the others. As Orion was about to fall off the cliff D was able to catch him in time by the wrist

“No. No no no no no. Why..Why did you do that! Why!?”

D would be breathing heavy as so many emotions went through his head.

“D….no”

“I’m done saving you!”

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader

Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)

WC: 1053

Next part

Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence.  Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.  

Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him?  How’d he take that one?”

Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.

“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce.  He doesn’t just get to do this.”

He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him.  That’s why I gotta do this.”

“Shit man.  What’s Monica gonna do?  Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”

Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation.  She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher.  Just like she planned.  It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to.  ‘Cept Lee”

“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned.  I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip.  Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.

Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”

“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.

Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n.  That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”

“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid.  ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”

He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”

“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”

-/-/-

2 years later…

 Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal.  The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get  stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.  

With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh.  Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.  

Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”

“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.

Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”

Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road.  They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow.  A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back.  You fuckin’ know about this?”

Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer.  The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.

The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”

“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.

“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.

Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”

“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.

The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”

Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”

“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”

He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back.  Been a long time coming.”

“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”

He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching.  She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.

“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch.  Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”

“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.

“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit.  Saw this godforsaken country and won it all.  It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”

Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”

“I got that covered Rip.  Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming.  Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle.  Figured he might stand a chance with me.”

Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand.  Figured that’s how you won it all.”

“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me?  Not in the house but here,” she clarified.

Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so.  You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”

“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads.  It’s looked after me in worse places.  Think it’ll do just fine here.”

[wongyuseokie]

Drift Away | k.m.g

Summary: You made the biggest mistake of your life, and now, Mingyu is trying his hardest to forget and forgive you, but how long till your infidelity rips you both apart? Besides, it’s not like you’d blame him. You hurt him. You did the one thing you promised never to do.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕ smut |  ♥ completed works

Word Count: 9321 words

Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, Smut & Angst, Idol! AU, but like it’s not that important. It just sets the tone, I guess? Like why he stays in a dorm, etc.

Content Warnings: Cheating AU! slut shaming, blaming, crying, fighting. Soonyoung is kind of a dick, but it’s truly very warranted. Chan makes lame jokes, and it’s adorable. Cheol is the best human ever. Insecurities about wealth and fame gap between the reader and Gyu. Mingyu is honestly the bestest boy ever, and the reader makes a terrible choice, but let’s see.

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pussy slapping (like once). Is Mingyu growling a warning? Creampie. I think that’s it.

Authors Note: This fic involves infidelity, I don’t condone it, but I’m aware it’s different for everyone, just know that this is a work of fiction, and you should never feel like you should accept anything, but the best for you 🥺 High key broke my own heart writing this.

Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to @spacequokka​ for beta'ing this angsty mess for me. I love you dearly for this! 💕 also, thank you so much to my fellow emotional mess baby @the-boy-meets-evil​ for helping me edit. Finally, a big thank you to my lovely SVTHub friends for reading this over thank you lovelies, @multi-kpop-fanfics​, @bitchlessdino​ and thank you @onlymingyus​ for the title 💕

Authors Note 3: Also if you’ve seen this fic before, it’s because it was something I’d published once for a different group, but I wanted to revisit and rework it 🩷

Cross Posted to AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“So, I thought we could go on a road trip, just you and I. I know things haven’t been great, but I thought this could help us reconnect,” you suggested to Mingyu during dinner, and you could see him roll his eyes at you.

“I’m trying to make an effort here,” you mumbled, making Mingyu glare at you.

“Because that’ll make everything you did okay?” Mingyu asked, and you looked down in shame.

“Gyu, it was a mistake,” you defended weakly, sliding your hand over to hold his, making him flinch and move his hand away from you.

“You fucked someone else. I asked you if I was enough, and I wasn’t, so you left to find someone else,” Mingyu snarled, and you sighed.

“You were always gone for months on end–” you started to say, and Mingyu glared at you.

“Do not give me that shit, don’t you fucking dare. Do you realise I could have done the same thing? I know it’s not ideal to have me as your boyfriend, but I could have cheated on you, but I didn’t because I love you,” Mingyu’s voice cracked at the word love.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised.

“‘Sorry’ won’t change any of it,” Mingyu muttered.

“Then why are you still here?” You asked. There was no anger in your voice, just genuine and pure confusion. “Why stay?”

“Because…” Mingyu started to say, pausing to wipe a tear off his face. 

“Because I still fucking love you, like a moron. I want to believe that we can move past this,” Mingyu admitted.

Your heart broke at the sight, and you got up from your seat, walked over to Mingyu and motioned to his lap, and Mingyu nodded slowly. You slid into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’ll do anything. I promise I won’t hurt you again,” you promised, and Mingyu simply stared at you as you held his face in your hands.

“Y/N,” Mingyu stopped you as you moved to kiss him.

“I can’t, not yet, at least,” Mingyu admitted, and you nodded quickly, sliding off his lap.

“Look, I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ve lost my appetite.” Mingyu said, sliding out of his seat and heading upstairs. You felt tears run down your face, and you hated that you were the one crying when you did this.

You wiped your tears away, cleaned up the table, and headed to the bedroom, smiling softly when you noticed Mingyu sitting on the bed, running a towel through his freshly washed hair.

“Can I help you?” Mingyu asked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Uh, I can take the couch,” you mumbled. “No. You can take the guest room, not the fucking couch. You don’t need to punish yourself. It won’t give me any comfort,” Mingyu spat, “and,” he added, voice softer. “I said we shouldn’t sleep separately because we will get comfortable like that, and then this will be over,” Mingyu added.

“I’m giving you space,” you mumbled. It made Mingyu sigh, drop the towel on the bed and walk over to you.

“You had space when I went on tour, and you fucked someone else, so no. I don’t think space is what we need,” Mingyu explained, and you looked down, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said dumbly, knowing that you already had hurt him, which made  Mingyu glare at you.

“You broke me. There’s nothing else left to break. However, for some ridiculous reason, I still fucking love you, and I’m trying not to get mad because, despite the fact you slept with someone else, I still want you in my life,” Mingyu said, gritting his teeth.

You stayed still, unsure what to say, unable to look him in the eyes. Mingyu just huffed out in annoyance at your silence.  

“I’m going to bed. You do what you want. That’s what you seem to be good at anyway,” Mingyu scoffed as he moved away from you and moved to lie down on the bed and sleep.

You hopped into the shower once Mingyu started snoring softly, and you prayed that the running water would drown out your sobs. You had done the worst thing possible to the kindest person ever and had the nerve to cry.

You finished quickly and found Mingyu’s shirt hanging on the door and, out of habit, slipped it on once you dried yourself.

Once you exited the shower, you found your spot on the bed next to him, and out of habit again, Mingyu sleepily wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

You heard his soft snores and allowed yourself to fall asleep in his embrace, and just for a minute, imagine that your relationship was fine. Even then, peace was elusive as your mind replayed the day you told Mingyu that you cheated and how broken and devastated he looked.

“Mingyu, sit,” you said, your voice low and emotionless. Mingyu looked concerned but did as you asked and sat down next to you.

“Wait, are you breaking up with me the day after I got back from tour? Because ouch,” Mingyu joked, and you shook your head.

“No, but you might.”

Mingyu’s smile vanished when he noticed the lack of humour in your voice.

“What happened? Are you pregnant? Because if so, we can deal with it,” Mingyu offered, and you simply shook your head, your heart aching at how kind and considerate he was.

“You weren’t here for so long. It was the night after we got into a fight, and it was so fucking stupid–”

Mingyu felt his world fall apart as the words left your mouth. “You didn’t because you said you love me,” Mingyu interrupted, refusing to believe a word, and you looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.

“Was it once?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded.

“It was so fucking stupid,” you choked out, and Mingyu pressed his lips together.

“You know, of all the people in the world, I didn’t think you’d be the one to make me feel like this,” Mingyu choked out, his voice cracking. You tried to reach out and touch his hand, and Mingyu flinched.

“Don’t you fucking dare! When and where?” Mingyu yelled, and you shrank.

“Does it matter?” You asked, and Mingyu glared at you.

“It fucking matters,” he snapped. You nodded.

“His place. I left after it happened. I just felt so guilty,” you explained, your voice cracked with each word. Mingyu nodded.

“Well, you should. I’m glad you had the decency not to defile our bed,” Mingyu spat as he grabbed his bag, stood up, and took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I thought tonight I could make up for all the time I spend away from you. I would have held, touched, and kissed you all night. I would have spent all the time I had making it right, but you decided I wasn’t worth the wait,” Mingyu admitted with a broken sob, a sad smile gracing his handsome face.

“I was lonely,” you admitted weakly, needing to defend yourself. Mingyu scoffed at you.

“You don’t think I get lonely? I fucking do, but I didn’t once cheat because I love you and respect you. Sadly, you can’t say the same,” Mingyu stated.

“Mingyu, I love you. It was a mistake, a stupid fucking mistake. Please, just one more chance. I need you to know how sorry I am,” you begged, and Mingyu sighed.

“I need space from you. For now, I need to let my anger pass because right now, I can’t bear the sight of you,” Mingyu said, and you just stared at him.

Mingyu sighed deeply and pulled you into his arms as you sobbed into his chest.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you cried, and Mingyu placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I will reach out. Just give me some time,” Mingyu promised, a tight smile on his handsome face. You nodded as you watched him walk out the door, and you fell to the ground sobbing.

“Y/N, wake up,” Mingyu said, shaking you awake.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mingyu asked as he switched on the light and noticed your tear-stained face. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when he was still concerned about your well-being, not when you had broken his heart.

“Mingyu, I’m so fucking sorry,” you wailed.

“I know.”

You whimpered as the sobs wouldn’t stop. “I just need time,” Mingyu said, and you nodded.  

“Why did you stay? Why didn’t you leave me?” you asked, and Mingyu shrugged.

“It takes a lot more effort to stay and make a relationship work than just to get up and leave. Unless that’s why you cheated? Did you want an out?” Mingyu explained, and you shook your head at his question.

“No. I just wanted to feel less lonely,” you explained weakly, and Mingyu sighed.

“I know I still love you. I just can’t trust you yet. I need time to heal,” Mingyu admitted.

“Mingyu?” You said softly, and Mingyu smiled softly back at you, wiped your tears away, and gently placed his lips on yours. It was the first time he had kissed you since the night you told him.

“Give me time,” Mingyu repeated, and you nodded as Mingyu turned off the light and laid back down, and you laid down next to him, feeling him pull you in again. Tighter against him this time, you felt yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

You woke up the following day, found Mingyu fast asleep, and smiled when you saw how handsome and calm he looked. You got out of bed and made your way into the shower and then to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you heard Mingyu as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his lips gently meeting your neck, making you sigh as you melted against his touch.

“Shit, sorry,” Mingyu cursed, pulling away from you.

“Habit, I guess,” Mingyu mumbled, making you pout, not letting his actions affect you too much.

He had every right to be upset.

“So, um. What are you up to today?” you asked as you handed Mingyu a cup of tea.

“I think Seungcheol hyung is coming by to hand me a present of some sort,” Mingyu replied.

Mingyu bit his lip. He wanted to warn you and tell you that the boys deeply resented you for what you did. At the same time, he wanted to see you feel as horrible as he did, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Oh! I’ll get that,” you offered when you heard a knock on the front door, and Mingyu hesitated, hoping to stop you, but he nodded.

You couldn’t hide from the boys; they had been waiting to chew you out since the day they found out. However, Mingyu was glad it was Seungcheol who was headed over. He could trust his hyung to be diplomatic. He could not expect that of Soonyoung or Chan.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol greeted you. The eyes that once held fondness and love for you were now filled with rage and anger.

“Mingyu, good to see you,” Seungcheol said as he embraced him. You wanted to leave the room, unable to hide your shame.

“Y/N, we don’t usually ever get involved in one another’s business, especially not relationships. However, the way Mingyu cried after what you did, you need to understand that none of us are your biggest fans right now,” Seungcheol spoke, and you could only look at the floor, unable to make eye contact out of embarrassment.

Seungcheol wasn’t one to get involved in his members’ love lives, but he knew Mingyu would sugarcoat everything for you, and he wasn’t going to let you think that the rest of Mingyu’s members were okay with you.

“If Mingyu chooses to forgive you, that’s his right and choice. We’ll support him, but I can speak on behalf of the other members. None of us are keen on you right now,” Seungcheol continued to elaborate.

Seungcheol’s words broke your heart; out of all the members, you had grown very close to him and Soonyoung. You knew Soonyoung would probably kill you if he saw you, but Seungcheol could be reasonable.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and Seungcheol scoffed.

“Not the one you need to apologise to,” Seungcheol bit back, and Mingyu knew he had to say something now.

God knows you apologised enough times.

“Hyung, um, what did you get me?” Mingyu asked in an attempt to dissipate the tension. Seungcheol smiled as he faced Mingyu.

“I got you a birthday present,” Seungcheol replied, and Mingyu laughed.

“Seven months in advance?” Mingyu asked.

Seungcheol shrugged. “I forget birthdays, except mine, so yeah, it’s an all-expense paid weekend at a fancy hotel, you know, wine, room service, the whole nine yards.” Seungcheol took a breath.

“I got it before all this happened. It was something for you two,” Seungcheol added, his words piercing your heart again.

“Hyung, we can still use it. If not, I can just use it myself, starfish on the bed,” Mingyu interjected, which made Seungcheol smile.

“Anyways. That’s all I came for. I’ll see you in the evening,” Seungcheol said, and Mingyu nodded and saw Seungcheol out.

“Hyung, she’s trying,” Mingyu pleaded once he was outside his front door as he tried to reason with Seungcheol, who simply sighed.

“I don’t doubt it, but she cheated on you,” Seungcheol said.

“She won’t do it again,” Mingyu asserted.

“I hope she doesn’t,” Seungcheol added, smiling sadly at Mingyu, who smiled back.

“Hyung, I love her, and if I can’t make this work, then I’ll leave, but right now, I want to have faith,” Mingyu spoke genuinely, meaning every word.

“Fair enough. Look, just try and keep her away from the studios and dorms for now. I can keep my cool, and so can the others, but Soonyoung will definitely tear her a new one,” Seungcheol warned.

“Yeah. I will. Thank you for the present again,” Mingyu thanked Seungcheol.

“Take care, Gyu.”

“Um, I have rehearsals. I won’t be home until eight. Do you think you’ll be okay?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah. I have a few meetings, and I have some work to do. Did you want to have dinner?” you asked, and Mingyu nodded slowly.

“I can give you a heads up if I am back in time?” Mingyu suggested, and you nodded, smiling sadly at him.

“They’ll come around, you know?” Mingyu added.

“It’s okay if they don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t blame them, ” you responded.

“They will. I mean. I’m trying,” Mingyu explained.

“Mingyu?”

“Yes?”

“How long will you keep trying for? I’m not asking you to dismiss the fact that you are already doing something that most people wouldn’t consider doing. I want to know because I don’t want to keep holding you down from finding the one.”

“You were the one at one point for me,” Mingyu started, and you felt your throat tighten with emotion.

“Maybe you still are. But to answer your question, I guess I will try until I no longer imagine you underneath another man. Last night when I kissed you, I felt like I was being burned. It hurts to physically love you right now, so if it comes to a point where one day I know I can’t look at you and not hate what you did, then yeah, we can move on,” Mingyu admitted.

“And if we can’t?” you asked, your voice small.

“Then we’re done,” Mingyu said, his tone calm and final.

“I need to go; I’ll message you if I am late,” Mingyu said, and you nodded at him.

“You’re late,” your boss remarked as you walked in, well, ran into the office.

“Sorry,” you said breathlessly. Your boss simply shrugged at you.

“Can I see you? In my office?” He asked before heading back to his office.

You nodded, followed your boss to his office, and waited for him to close the door behind you.

“Please don’t fire me. I can do better,” you begged, your voice cracking.

Your boss shook his head.

“Not here to fire you, but I’m worried,” he explained, and you nodded.

“Relationship problems?” Your boss suggested, and you nodded.

“Do you need to talk to anyone?” Your boss asked kindly, and you shook your head. “It’s my doing,” you explained, and your boss nodded, not pushing it any further.

“Well. I need you to manage this client. You have a natural knack for charming the shit out of fancy clients, so do it well, and we can secure a retainer, and you can secure a wonderful bonus,” your boss explained, and you smiled at him.

“Anything else?” you asked, and your boss shook his head, smiling.

“Thank you so much once again for the meeting. I know it’s late, but we appreciate the effort,” your clients thanked you at the end of the meeting, and you nodded, thanking your million-dollar clients.

You left once they left the conference room and fished out your phone.

“Fuck,” you cursed when you saw it was nine, and you had ten missed calls from Mingyu and several messages. You grabbed your things and tried to drive home as quickly and safely as possible.

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in work,” you explained hurriedly the second you walked into the apartment, and Mingyu simply hummed.

“I got hungry. I ate without you,” Mingyu deadpanned.

“Y/N?” Mingyu asked, and you turned around to see Mingyu glaring at you.

“Yes?”  

“Where were you?” Mingyu asked as he walked closer to you.

“I was at work. I have a new client, and they wanted to go over so many things,” you explained.

“You sure? Or were you with someone?” Mingyu taunted, and you shook your head at him.

“Mingyu, no, I would never,” you said, and Mingyu scoffed.

“You have,” he bit back.

“Not again,” you said firmly. Mingyu sighed.

“You know, the entire time I was waiting for you. I couldn’t help but think about it. I was wondering if you found someone else. If you were ignoring my phone calls because someone else was making you feel so good that you forgot about me,” Mingyu said.

“I love you, and I know my actions have not matched that, but I would never do what I did again. Ever,” you explained again, and Mingyu sighed.

“I guess I just have to believe you, right?” Mingyu asked with a dark chuckle.

“If you want to go or leave me, then you can,” you offered, and Mingyu shook his head.

“I need to be able to trust you again,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“I was at work. I didn’t meet up with anyone,” you repeated.  

“As I said, I don’t have a choice but to believe you,” Mingyu mumbled, and you frowned.

“Look, how about you join me? We can watch Netflix, and you can eat your dinner. I’ll join you for ice cream?” Mingyu suggested, and you smiled, nodding at him.

You rushed up the stairs to take a shower and change into his shirt quickly. You often forgot they weren’t your clothes; you were so used to wearing them.

Once you were done with your shower, you headed downstairs, grabbed your food, and sat on the couch three spots away from Mingyu, making him smile.

“I won’t bite.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Mingyu nodded.

“Just sit next to me.” You smiled and scooted over next to him.

“So, these new clients, what do they do?” Mingyu asked, making you glare at him.

“Are you interrogating me?” You asked, and Mingyu sighed.

“No. I’m asking you because I’m your boyfriend. I want to know about your day. However, your reaction makes me wonder why you’re so defensive,” Mingyu explained, and you pouted, placing your food on the coffee table in front of you and turning to face him.

“I’m so sorry. I  broke your trust and your heart. I won’t do it again,” you apologised.

“Shouldn’t have ever happened,” Mingyu mumbled, and you stayed quiet, knowing you shouldn’t defend yourself.

“Y/N? Why? I know you said you were lonely, but why?” Mingyu asked.

You took a deep breath as you looked up at him, his eyes watery, and you hated that you were the cause of it.

“You remember when you were on tour, we got into this huge fight because you missed three FaceTime calls with me, and you fell asleep on the one you did remember,” you cringed as you recalled the incident.

Nothing you were going to say would make anything that you did okay.

“Right, yes, so you cheated on me because I was inattentive?” Mingyu asked, not a hint of anger in his words, just pure confusion.

“I mean, after that call, we got into a huge fight, and we didn’t even speak for another two days, and I just felt neglected,” you added.

“So one night, when I saw you giggling on a live later, I got annoyed, went to a bar after work, and well, yeah, you know the rest,” you trailed off.

“Do I know him?” Mingyu asked.

“No, I don’t even know him,” you mumbled.

“So you threw it all away for a perfect stranger?” Mingyu asked.

“Tell me. What did he do to you? What did you do to him?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head.

“Mingyu, I don’t want to hurt you,” you tried to protest, making Mingyu scoff.

“You already have. Tell me,” Mingyu repeated, and you took a deep breath before responding.

“He went down on me, and he then fucked me,” you said quickly, like you were ripping off a band-aid.

“You didn’t go down on him?” He asked.

“No,” you said, your voice small, and Mingyu nodded.

“Did you at least use a condom?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded.

“Did you feel good? Just for that moment? Did you get what you wanted?” Mingyu asked.

“I guess I got the attention I wanted. However, no. I didn’t feel good about it; I hated myself for it,” you admitted.

“Look. I told you I want to work on us and move on from what happened, so I appreciate your honesty. However, you need to understand why I might be suspicious,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something, but I need liquor, wine?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled, nodding at him. Mingyu smiled at you as he got off the couch, headed into the kitchen, and returned a couple of minutes later with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“Here you go,” Mingyu said as he handed you a glass and sat down on the couch, this time sitting closer to you.  

“So Seungcheol hyung, he’s throwing a dinner thing next week,” Mingyu explained.

“I can make myself scarce,” you interrupted, and Mingyu smiled softly at you, shaking his head.

“No, he wants you there,” Mingyu said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Why?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice, and Mingyu smiled softly at you,

“Because I want you there,” Mingyu responded, and you downed your glass of wine in response to his comment and placed the glass down before speaking.

“Mingyu, I don’t want to impose. Not in a room full of people who hate me,” you said, hating how weak you sounded when this was all your doing. Mingyu smiled softly at you before taking a sip of his drink.

“No one–okay, aside from Soonyoung–no one hates you,” Mingyu admitted.

“I know I have no right to be upset, not when I did this, but I feel so fucking stupid. I feel stupid for having the audacity to be upset when this is my doing,” you confessed, feeling pathetic for being upset. However, Mingyu smiled softly at you.

“Look. You have a week to decide if you don’t want to go. I won’t force you. However, it would be nice,” Mingyu offered.

“I’ll be there,” you said, your voice still soft, and Mingyu smiled at you.

“Good. Another glass?” Mingyu asked, motioning to your empty glass.

“Yes, please.”

You and Mingyu didn’t speak much, choosing to watch a Netflix series and just be near one another, trying and be normal.

“Mingyu?” You called out his name halfway through an episode, and Mingyu turned to smile at you,

“Yeah?” He responded, eyes still on the screen.

You hesitated for a second, “Can I, um. Never mind,” you mumbled, swallowed  your words, and Mingyu groaned, pausing the show.

“What?” He asked, looking at you.

“Can I get a bit of the blanket? I’m cold,” you asked, rubbing your palms together as if to prove a point, and Mingyu grinned, lifting the blanket off him and holding it up.

“Come on. You’ll freeze,” Mingyu said, motioning for you to join him under the blanket, and you froze in a different way.

“Y/N, I’m trying here, but you need to meet me halfway. I can grab another blanket for you, but I’d like to share one with my girlfriend,” Mingyu stated, making your heart swell as you nodded and crawled into and curled into his side.

“The new client, they’re designers, they deal with luxury goods, and they need someone to guide them through our consulting process and how we can be an asset to them,” you mumbled, and Mingyu smiled at you, happy to have a normal conversation with you.

“So, fancy rich people?” Mingyu joked, and you nodded.

“I’m aiming to secure a retainer agreement with them,” you explained, and Mingyu nodded,

“Well, make sure you rest in between, okay? Because you always overextend yourself, and I don’t want you burning out,” Mingyu spoke softly, and you smiled fondly at him.

“I won’t,” you promised, and Mingyu smiled, holding out his pinkie to you, “promise?” He asked, and you laughed and laced your finger with his.

“I promise,” you said, and Mingyu smiled, letting go of your hand, and pulled you closer to his side.

“Okay, now can we find out what happens in this episode?” Mingyu asked, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Gyu, it’s Suits. Harvey Specter will do something that is not viable in reality and save the day,” you explained. The lawyer in you just could not refrain from describing how wrong Suits was.

“You called me Gyu,” Mingyu mumbled.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you apologised, and Mingyu paused the episode and turned to face you, his legs around you as you sat in the space between his legs.

“You know, all of the restraining, the formalities. I get why you’ve held back, but it’s been two months. I’m not mad at you for calling me Gyu. It made me happy. You’ve imposed all these restrictions on yourself, none of which I asked you to do. I’m not blaming or scolding you. I’m simply saying that I want you to be yourself—the funny, unfiltered, loving and frankly unrestrained woman that I fell in love with. I know you’ll say that you hurt me being that, but I just don’t want to dwell anymore,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“Gyu,” you repeated, and Mingyu smiled at you before frowning when he realised you were crying.

“Hey now, why are you crying,” Mingyu asked.

“You’re so fucking, patient. You’re so kind for what I did, and I hate that I’m the one falling apart,” you admitted, and Mingyu smiled at you, wiping a tear off your face.

“In some sick way, I appreciate it because I know you regret what you did. It’d be worse if you acted so normal. If you showed no remorse, then I’d be like fuck. I’m on my way, I guess.” Mingyu confessed, wiping your tears.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised.

“I know. You’ve said it enough times. So I know you’re sorry, but as I said, I need time, but I don’t want to act or walk around eggshells with you because then one day that will end up blowing up in our faces,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled, and Mingyu sighed and pulled you closer to him.

“You don’t, but I love you. So let me decide if I can do this?” Mingyu said, and you nodded, smiling softly as Mingyu wiped another tear off your face.

“Now, can I watch Harvey Specter save the day?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled at him as he pressed play.

Mingyu adjusted himself so you were lying on his chest as you watched the episode. Mingyu shifted slightly, making his leg brush against your underwear, making you bite your lip, an action that did not go unnoticed by Mingyu.

“What?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you mumbled before fixing your eyes back on the screen.

Mingyu smirked, shifting his leg again, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that fell from your lips.

“You liked that?” Mingyu teased, and you sighed, nodding, making him smirk as you both continued to watch Suits.

However, he adjusted himself, and you were sitting between his legs, his large hands tracing small circles on your thigh.

Mingyu suddenly paused the show and asked you to turn around. You did as he asked, and he pulled you into his lap.

“Kiss me,” Mingyu whispered, his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You smiled as you touched his lips, groaning immediately when you tasted him for the first time in months. You were kissing him, not just a peck, but a kiss.

You felt him run his tongue along your bottom lip, and he slipped his tongue inside you. You moaned into his mouth and kept kissing him until he slowly pulled away from you.

You were about to apologise in case you went too far, but Mingyu pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into the kiss as his bulge pressed into your cloth-covered cunt. Mingyu moved quickly and pulled his cock out.

“I need to feel you,” Mingyu muttered against your lips, and you moaned and nodded. Mingyu moved your panties to the side, ran his cock against your folds and pushed into you.

“Fuck,” you choked out, your hands gripping his hair for support.

“You’re so fucking tight. So fucking tight,” Mingyu groaned as he let his cock stretch you open. You moaned as Mingyu guided his cock in and out of you.

He laid back and let you fall on his chest before he picked his pace, thrusting into you relentlessly. The lack of sex between the two of you meant that you both came quickly. You simply continued to kiss him, scared to speak as if it’d ruin the moment.

You rested your head against Mingyu’s chest as you felt him soften inside you, his warmth coating your walls.

“Mingyu?” you asked softly, noticing that your boyfriend’s expression didn’t match yours.

“Did you kiss that guy?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed, climbing off his lap.

“Mingyu, don’t,” you begged, making him scoff at you.

“I did. I’m so sorry,” you apologised, and Mingyu sighed, standing up and pulling his trousers up.

“This was way too quick. I know I initiated it, so I’m not mad at you, but right now, I can’t look at you,” Mingyu admitted, taking a deep breath before delivering the words that made you despise yourself further.

“The entire time I was inside you, all I could think about was the fact that you probably moaned the same way for that other guy. Looking just as fucked out, and that’s not an image I can get over so easily,” Mingyu continued.  

“I’m going to bed,” Mingyu said, not sparing you a glance and heading upstairs.

You decided to stay downstairs the entire night. It would do neither of you any good to be near one another now. You felt terrible. You should have stopped him, but you missed his touch.

You hated how you had become a slave to your instincts.

“Hey. Oh, you’re leaving?” Mingyu asked as he saw you sliding your heels on the following day.

“Yeah. Fancy clients, they call, I answer,” you replied.

“Like that guy in the bar? He snapped, and your face fell.

“Mingyu, I can do this with you after work. You can yell, scream and insult me as much as you need. Just not before work.” Mingyu’s glare intensified.

“Do you think I do it because I enjoy hurting you?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head at him.

“Mingyu, I need to go,” you said, reaching for the doorknob, and Mingyu scoffed at you.

“Do you have anything you want to say?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed at him.

“I do. But I do not have the time for it now,” you explained, and Mingyu nodded.

“Just think about this as you go to work. Why do you have time for everyone except for me?” Mingyu said before storming upstairs.

“Y/N, well done. The clients are impressed with you, and I think we are getting closer to signing them,” Your boss praised after the meeting.

“Thanks,” you said with no real emotion, and your boss eyed you.

“Okay, what the hell? You should be happy?” your boss asked.

“My personal life is falling apart,” you admitted.

“Well, look. It’s already three. Why don’t you head home? You killed it today so that you can take the afternoon off,” your boss offered, and you thanked him profusely.

“Mingyu, I’m home. Oh,” you called out the second you entered the apartment and froze when you saw some of Mingyu’s members sitting in your living room. You got mixed reactions from all of them.

Seungcheol offered you a weak smile, Wonwoo nodded, Jun blinked a couple of times, and Jihoon looked your way to acknowledge your presence. You were thankful that the older members were discreet.

The same could not be said for the younger members.

“What are you doing here?” Chan asked, earning him a slight nudge from Jun for being disrespectful to someone older than him.

“I live here,” you muttered, and that was all it took for Soonyoung to snap.

“Right, because it’s your house, right?” Soonyoung fired back, knowing well that the building was in Mingyu’s name and not yours.

“I, um,” you stuttered, unsure of how to handle Soonyoung’s words.

“Y/N, why don’t you go to the bedroom? I’ll be done soon?” Mingyu interjected he couldn’t handle another fight with you, and he didn’t fancy seeing Soonyoung rip you to shreds, either. You gave Mingyu a forced smile and headed to his bedroom.

“Hey,” Mingyu said as he sat next to you on the bed.

“They’re uh gone. It’s safe for you to come out,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“Does it bother you?” You asked.

“What bothers me?”

“The wealth gap between us,” you elaborated.

“You’re acting like you’re impoverished,” Mingyu scoffed, and he wasn’t wrong. You could live a very comfortable life without Mingyu’s wealth, but sometimes seeds of insecurity would get planted in your mind, and you’d wonder if you were enough.

“You know, if you dated an idol, she’d make as much money as you,” you said bitterly.

“I don’t say this to be a dick, but no. She wouldn’t. Frankly, what we make is very high. I’m grateful, but unless I’m dating another multimillionaire, then I’d still be earning more in a relationship,” Mingyu explained.

“She’d understand your life,” you offered, and Mingyu frowned.

“She’d understand that there would be lonely nights, weeks and months. She would get it, and she wouldn’t go looking for more when she had enough,” you admitted, feeling ashamed, feeling your voice crack.

“Is that why?” Mingyu asked.

“Why what?”

“Why you cheated,” Mingyu clarified.

“Oh god no, Mingyu, I wish I had a reason why, I don’t. It was dumb, it was stupid, and it’s something I’ll hate myself for doing to you. Nothing I did that night can justify why I did what I did. There’s nothing except a dumb fucking decision,” you rambled, not realising that you were crying until you realised that Mingyu inched closer to you, holding your face in his hands and wiping your tears.

“Don’t hate yourself. I don’t,” Mingyu said quietly.

“Why not?”

“I hate what you did, but to hate you? Fuck, that’s something I don’t think I can do,” Mingyu admitted.

“Soonyoung hyung was way out of line,” Mingyu added, understanding what your spiral was about, and you shook your head and gently moved his hands away from your face.

“No. He wasn’t. He’s protecting you,” you countered, and Mingyu shrugged, not wanting to argue with you.

“It wasn’t just Soonyoung hyung. I was out of line, too. I said some shitty things to you this morning and last night. Having sex with you again, trust me, for the most part, it was good, but the minute you started to moan and get close to cumming. I couldn’t help but think of you doing the same thing for another man,” Mingyu confessed.

“But I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I should have stopped Soonyoung hyung today,” Mingyu mumbled as you stayed quiet.

“Say something, please?” Mingyu asked.

“You had every right to act the way you did, and Soonyoung wasn’t wrong in expressing his anger,” you said calmly, and Mingyu pouted at you.

“Okay, let’s change the topic. Why did you come back early?” Mingyu asked.

“The meeting went well, and I guess my boss saw me miserable, so he let me come back early,” you admitted with a soft smile.

“Lovely, then I’m ordering food, and we can spend the day together,” Mingyu said, clapping his hands, and you traced circles on his hand.

“Gyu?” You said, making him smile.

“Yes?” He asked. You held out your arms to him, and he smiled, pulling you into his lap for a hug. You held on tightly. It was so fragile, and you were so scared to let go. You pulled away slowly, your lips inches away from his.

“Kiss me,” Mingyu whispered, his lips ghosting yours. You smiled and placed your lips on his. The kiss escalated quickly, as it always did. From being in Mingyu’s lap, you were now lying under him as he kept kissing you. His tongue was deepening the kiss. His hand moved up your body until it landed on the button of your trousers.

“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, and that’s all Mingyu needed.

Mingyu undid the button and pushed his hand down your trousers and past your panties. His fingers found your clit, and he started to rub. You moaned into the kiss. Whimpers and pants were leaving your lips as he rubbed your clit.

When he suddenly stopped, you were so scared that the events of last night would occur again. Instead, Mingyu moved away from the kiss, pulled your trousers and panties off, and laid between your legs.

Mingyu moved to let his mouth wrap around your clit, making you buck into his mouth. You wanted to scream his name but were so scared that you’d break this moment if you spoke. Not just for the sake of an incredible orgasm but because you felt as if things between you two could finally be okay.

A sharp slap to your clit took you out of your thoughts.

“Why aren’t you making any noise? Have I lost my touch?” Mingyu growled, and you shook your head.

“No, it’s just, fuck,” you could barely finish your sentence as Mingyu pushed three fingers into you.

You winced slightly at the stretch, slowly letting out a moan as his lips found your clit again. Mingyu licked and flicked your clit while thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” you choked out as you grabbed the sheets. You came and felt Mingyu lick you more. His hands held your shaking legs in place as he licked you through your orgasm.

“Good?” Mingyu asked, moving up your body, capturing your lips with his.

“Yes,” you moaned into the kiss as Mingyu smiled into the kiss.

“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, knowing what he wanted, as he pulled his shirt off and threw his shorts across the room as he lined his thick length against your cunt and pushed in.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groaned as he started to thrust into you.

“Baby, you’re so tight, and it’s been so long. I won’t last,” Mingyu groaned as he played with your clit.

“Cum, Mingyu,” you encouraged as Mingyu started to pound into you harder, making you squeal in pleasure as you came around him. Mingyu groaned as his orgasm followed soon after yours.

Mingyu pulled you in for another kiss before moving his lips away and pulling out of you.

“No, don’t just stay with me,” Mingyu said, pulling you back into his arms.

“Gyu?” He hummed.

“I love you,” you said, and Mingyu sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead. It stung when he didn’t say it back, but you couldn’t take it.

You’d do anything to make it right.

“Do I look okay?” You asked later that week as you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a simple black dress. Mingyu smiled at you.

“They’ll love you no matter what,” Mingyu offered casually, and you froze.

“I mean. Uh,” Mingyu fumbled, and you gave him a small smile at walked over to him.

“I know.” Mingyu sighed, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You look lovely, and you know I’ll always think that, but please don’t go in expecting too much tonight,” Mingyu offered.

“I know,” you said with a sad smile, and Mingyu pouted slightly. He almost hated that he felt terrible for you, especially since you brought this upon yourself.

“Let’s go?” Mingyu asked.

The entire car ride to the dorm was quiet. You were both too nervous.

“Hey, look, they might be vicious. It’s just that they care for me, so they’ll get defensive,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll be brave,” you said, grinning.

Mingyu nodded at your comment. He knew you deserved their anger and resentment, but it didn’t mean that it made it easier for him to hear it. Mingyu hated watching you sink with every insult or backhanded comment that was thrown your way.

Mingyu knocked on the door while you prayed that one of the older members would open the door.

“Y/N, Mingyu, glad you two could make it,” Seungcheol said, smiling at Mingyu and nodding in your direction.

“Come in. There are drinks and appetisers being served now,” Mingyu nodded, guiding you into their dorm.

“Go sit, look Wonwoo hyung won’t bite. I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to plead with him, but you knew that you had lost any upper hand you may have once had.

“May I sit?” You asked Wonwoo, who simply nodded. You sat down cautiously.

“Can I get you a drink?” Wonwoo asked.

“Careful, hyung. Alcohol is the reason she’s in this predicament,” Soonyoung muttered, and Wonwoo shot him a glare. While Wonwoo was beyond upset with you, he didn’t approve of Soonyoung’s behaviour either.

“Okay, I’m here. What did I miss?” Mingyu asked, sliding next to you.

“Nothing, Gyu,” you mumbled, curling into his side, and Mingyu simply stared at his hyungs, hoping one of them would tell him what transpired.

“Alright, let me get you a drink, gin and tonic, right?” Mingyu asked as he stood up and headed back into the kitchen before you could stop him.

“Alright, here you go,” Mingyu returned, thankfully, quickly as he handed you your drink.

“Oh, Mingyu, are you excited about your project? You’ll be co-writing with Yuri for her solo?” Jun asked in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

“Actually, yeah. She texted me about the song. I think it’ll be really cool. I’m meeting her at her studio next week,” Mingyu responded, and you loved seeing how lively he looked when he spoke about his work.

“What’s the song about?” You asked, and you saw Mingyu freeze for a second.

“Heartbreak and betrayal,” Mingyu mumbled, and you simply took another sip of your drink.

“I mean, we should really thank you, Y/N. You gave Mingyu such amazing inspiration,” Soonyoung remarked sarcastically, and you cringed.

“Y/N, I left my planner in my room last week. Do you think you could get it?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded quickly, running away from the living room and upstairs to Mingyu’s bedroom, trying your hardest not to break down on your way.

You knew there was no planner, but you were grateful to Mingyu for giving you a reason to leave.

Back in the living room, Mingyu was trying his hardest to reason with Soonyoung.

“Hyung, I’m trying to fix things with her, but it won't work if you keep saying things like that. She’s sorry,” Mingyu pleaded, and Soonyoung scoffed.

“Cheaters don’t change, and to her credit, I can see she’s sorry, but you don’t deserve that, and I don’t know why you’re putting up with it. You could have anyone else, and you're choosing the one who broke your heart.”

“Hey.”

You heard a voice call, turned around to see Chan, and quickly wiped your face.

“Shit, you’re crying,” Chan muttered, closing the door behind him.

“No, uh, just allergies.” Chan laughed.

“Yeah, right,” Chan scoffed, and you sighed.

“Why are you here?” You asked, and Chan shrugged.

“Well, hyung sent me, and Soonyoung hyung is having a talk with Mingyu hyung. So you’ve got me,” Chan explained.  

“Can I ask you something?”

“Why? I mean, did he ever upset you or ignore you? Is there something we don’t know?” Chan asked.

“I was lonely. It’s not an excuse at all. We were fighting so much. I just wanted something to numb the pain.” Chan nodded.

“Alcohol would have been a better solution, literally. It’s a solution,” Chan joked as you let out a tearful chuckle.

“Yay, you smiled,” Chan cheered.

“Don’t you hate me?” You asked, and Chan shook his head.

“No. I’ll always be upset, but hyung isn’t a baby. He doesn’t need me to coddle him or fight for him. I’m not mean, but sometimes I can lash out, and even I can say that Soonyoung hyung took it too far. You’ve always made hyung happy, and if being with you makes him happy and he forgives you, then I think we should all make peace with it.” Chan offered.

“Chan, I need to talk to her,” a voice interrupted as you saw Mingyu enter the room.

“Sure,” Chan said, waving at you as he left the room.

“He forgave you?” Mingyu asked.

“No, but he said if I make you happy, then he’ll make his peace with it,” you explained.

“Fuck, well, this doesn’t make what I’m about to do next any easier,” Mingyu mumbled, and you knew. It was over. He tried and couldn’t, and you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll pack my things by the end of the day tomorrow,”  you said as you tried to get up, and Mingyu held your wrist gently.

“No, you keep that apartment. I want to have a fresh start. Most of my things are here anyway,” Mingyu countered.

“I can’t forgive you,” Mingyu admitted, and you simply nodded, eyes trained on the carpeted floor.

“Mingyu?” You whispered his name, and he looked at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised.

“I can drive you back,” Mingyu offered, and you shook your head.

“No, I’ll take a cab,” you mumbled. Mingyu nodded and turned around.

“Then leave. I can’t pretend anymore,” Mingyu breathed out, and you could hear how shaky his voice was.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it and left.

“Thank you for everything,” you said tearfully as you practically ran out of his bedroom and out of the dorms.

“Y/N!” Soonyoung ran after you, his hand on your wrist. The rest of the boys were confused for two reasons, one being that you left without Mingyu and the second that Soonyoung was the one that ran after you.

You were standing outside the dorm as Soonyoung held you in place.

“What the hell happened? Where are you going?” He asked.

“Home. Mingyu broke up with me, so I’m going home,” you admitted, and Soonyoung frowned.

“Did my comments do this?” Soonyoung asked, and you shook your head.

“No, we were bound to end. I should go,” you said sadly. Soonyoung sighed.

“I’m sorry it turned out this way,” Soonyoung apologised.

“Goodbye,” you said to Soonyoung.

That night when you got home, you couldn’t cry. You just felt numb. You felt nothing. You felt dead inside.

For the next week, you called off work, thankfully your clients had gone on a holiday and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. You took a week off. It wasn’t a lot, but it would be enough for you to start over.

You did every cliché there was. You went for a facial, went for a spa day. You drank and watched crappy movies with ice cream. Drank until you fell asleep. Every night you went to bed alone and hoped for a text from him.

You just needed to know that he was okay. You knew he felt every emotion deeply, and you didn’t want your stupidity to hurt him anymore.

One night after downing half a bottle of wine, you found it in you to dial his number. You sighed in relief when you realised he hadn’t blocked you.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning?” Mingyu groaned, and that’s when you broke all the tears that never fell.

They all fell the minute you heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Mingyu said, more awake and concerned about your heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” You mumbled, your voice breaking with every word.

“Y/N, fuck. Are you at home? Are you okay?” You sighed.

“Yeah. I just, I’m sorry, Mingyu.” Mingyu sighed before hanging up.

“Jesus, fuck,” you yelped when you saw Mingyu sitting in your kitchen the following day. You looked around the house.

“You cleaned up?” You asked, and Mingyu nodded.

“Most people change the locks when their ex moves out,” Mingyu joked, and you frowned.

“The house is under your name,” you said, giving a lame excuse, and Mingyu sighed.

“Am I okay? You called me yesterday to ask me that?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned. “Do you even care? You walked away,” Mingyu continued, raising his voice at you, and you just stared at him.

“You broke up with me,” you said, confused, and Mingyu nodded.

“I fought for us when you cheated, and you didn’t even fucking try,” Mingyu cried out.

“Gyu,” you started to say. Mingyu glared at you.

“Don’t Gyu me, I’m not yours,” Mingyu snapped, and you nodded.

“I saw the way you tried so hard to love me again. It broke you, and I want you to be happy, so I didn’t fight because you deserve better,” you yelled back, and Mingyu scoffed.

“You remember how I told you I’d be working on a song with Yuri?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded slowly, unsure why he randomly brought it up.

“We were in the studio, I think this was two nights after we broke up, and I think right before we wrapped up our session, she kissed me,” Mingyu explained.

“Oh.”

“I kissed her back,” Mingyu clarified.

“Okay.”

“But I couldn’t do it. Her lips, the kiss it all felt foreign to me. It wasn’t what I’m used to, and more importantly. It’s not what I want,” Mingyu added.

“She kissed you?” You repeated, feeling tears threaten to spill over.

“While you’re entitled to your feelings. I really hope you realise that getting mad at me for this will be beyond hypocritical,” Mingyu stated.

“I’m not. Just wow, she fits into your world. Better than I ever could,” you said weakly, and Mingyu scoffed as he stood up, moving closer to you,

“No. You can feel shitty for cheating on me, but I will not ever let you think you don’t belong in this world,” Mingyu said, and you pouted.

“I hurt you,” you choked out, your voice breaking.

“Yeah, and it fucking sucked. It still does, but one week. One week was enough to make me realise I don’t want to be without you. So we’re going to get through this,” Mingyu declared, determined, and you started to sob, and Mingyu took you into his arms, holding you tight.

“We’re going to hit reset. We will go on a first date again, and I will learn to trust you again. Clean slate,” Mingyu said, holding you close.

You nodded. Chances like these rarely come by, so you weren’t going to waste them.

“Oh and also, no more apologising. I’m not trying to rewrite history, but if you keep apologising, I won’t ever get past it. So let’s just start over, okay?” Mingyu explained, and you nodded tearfully.

“Reset?” You asked.

“Reset.”

“We’ll do this the right way,” Mingyu said, and you shook your head.

“No. I will. I’ll love you the way I should have,” you said, making him grin at you as you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

You’d be damned if you lost him again.

[clockmax]

- A TWISTED FANTASY

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Navi!Reader

A/N: FINALLY AT A REST STOP WITH GOOD WIFI!! Going to Nevada for pretty much the entire summer and this road trip is literally killing me. rip to luna who had to wait so long for this (ily bb)

warnings: hate fucking, oral (M receiving) p in v, degrading and slight praise, dubcon, brief fingering, orgasm denial/edging, spanking, hate fucking, semi-public, marking, i think thats all.

REQUESTS OPEN

There were no words that could describe the situation between you and Jake. Absolutely none. 

It wasn’t just generally disliking each other; this was a different type of issue. You absolutely hated how that man was. Arrogant, selfish, how reckless he could be. But damn, this man was so fucking hot. You hated him, no, you despised him. Though there was no denying some of his actions could have you on the flipside. 

But nevermind that, he could never have you. There was just no way you’d give yourself to a man like him. Your mind and body could hate him, but there was no denying how god damn attractive he was. 

Every moment with him felt like hell. The way you both had to hold back your venom so as to not fight each other. The way you would huff and puff all because you were practically forced to spend time with him.

It was a blazing hell. You hated this man, and he hated you. But oh how he would get you worked up with all his teasing just to leave you alone, soaked in your pants. Jake was a cruel man, all because you two had some stupid childlike feud.

There was actually no beginning to why you both started hating each other, it just happened. When your parents let him into the clan, it just so happened that you both started disliking each other. Every time you were in a room with Jake, the tension in the air made it so thick it felt hard to breathe. Like you were going to suffocate on just the hatred alone.

And now here you were, in the forest, alone. Just you and your thoughts. 

The festival was too loud for you. But the cherry on top of that was how Jake kept looking at you the entire night. The way you constantly batted heads, even when you were not speaking was just aggravating.

The walk was peaceful, you were finally able to get some alone time. Some time to enjoy the true beauty of Pandora. It was calming in some sense, but your tension was still high.

A faint sound of a stick cracking far behind put you on alert, drawing your knife, tail swishing violently in the air. Your beards perked up, twitching at every little sound. Eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the cracking.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally able to make out the figure approaching you.

Oh eywa.. Why him?

Of course it had to be Jake Sully coming to interrupt your peace. 

“Woah there princess, put the knife down, I’m not here to hurt you, yeah?” Jake’s tone was almost mocking, condescending even. 

You roll your eyes, dropping your knife, body still on high alert.

“Keep this up and I might hurt you.” You nearly spat back, tail swishing as your eyes met his.

There was a certain fire in his eyes, something with hatred that almost burned into lust. The way he looked at you, ready to fight with you again.  

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Jake just kept mocking you, pushing your buttons, “How about we fix that, can’t have you going back to hometree spitting at everyone you see.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You turned away, walking deeper into the forest when you were pulled back, hands gripping at your waist.

“You heard what I said. Can’t let you back to hometree with an attitude.” His breath was hot against your ear.

Your whole body froze, his lips tracing behind your ear, hands gripping at the curve of your hips, breath landing on the nape of your neck. 

You wanted to get out of this situation badly, but eywa, having him this close did something to you. No matter how many times your head cursed him at this moment, the arousal growing in your womb was something you couldn’t hold back.

“You.. son of a bitch-” You mumble, taking in a sharp breath of air. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hate me all you want, kid, your body says different.” 

One of Jake's hands found its way past your loincloth, dipping past the fabric to your cunt. His other hand held onto one of your breasts, gently squeezing it, rolling your nipple in between two fingers. 

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, especially with the man you hate. But god, it felt so good. It was twisted, really.

His fingers found their way to your sensitive bud of nerves, working it between his fingers pads. The sensation sent a shiver through your spine, a small gasp escaping your mouth. Your knees buckled a little, upper body almost folding in half already.

This was some kind of game now, seeing whoever could crumble first. Moving your hips, bumping your butt against Jake's bulge. He let out a low and quiet growl, his head moving back a little. 

“Jesus, kid. Yea, you feel what you do to me now?” *His voice was low, fingers working at your clit as his other digits rubbed between your folds.

It was a game of teasing, a game to see who could break first. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good, but you couldn't help it. He was just touching in all the right places. 

Low mewls and gasps escaped your lips no matter how hard you tried to hold them in. You were biting your lip so hard that it was surprising that you weren’t drawing blood. 

His fingers left your clit, quickly replaced by his thumb. Two fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping inside, sending ripples of pleasure through you, fingers finding themselves cozy in your velvety walls. 

You arousal coated his fingers with ease, making a mess of your loincloth and his hands. It felt so wrong yet so right. You could not figure if you wanted to enjoy this, or hate it simply because it was from Jake. 

His lips kept at your neck, planting kisses, bites, whatever he could to almost mark you as his. You were his to hate but his to fuck. Almost like he was going to make you a stress reliever, something he could use to fuck his anger out. 

You could feel the pleasure build up in your womb, stomach coiling into knots. It felt so good, just until his fingers pulled away, the pleasure almost being ripped from you.

Jake looked at you, almost letting out a small chuckle at how pitiful you looked. Your orgasm being ripped away from you had let you whine, thighs rubbing together. 

“Knees, now.” Jake commanded, leaving no room for you to argue.

He gave your thighs a slap. You rolled your eyes, plating yourself on the forest floor. He looked at you, a silent command, almost telling you what to do. 

Your fingers found the knot of his loincloth, fumbling with it. You were getting frustrated, Jake looking down and watching you in amusement.

“What's the problem down there, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with mockery and venom, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Shut up.” You hissed back, fingers struggling to undo the tight knot. 

Jake's fingers replaced your own, undoing the knot and tossing his loincloth to the side. His cock was practically rock hard already, beads of precum falling down his length. 

With reluctance, you let him push past your lips, down that pretty throat of yours. His hips rutted into you with some sort of urgency, but also anger and a desire.

His cock reached so far down your throat, squeezing around him as you slightly gagged. The sounds were just extra stimulation for Jake, his mind already in a frenzy. Small tears falling down your cheek as he pushed past your throat. 

Jake looks at you, all pretty on your knees as that anger burns in your eyes, before he says, “Now thank me.”

You go frigid, looking at him with an intensity behind those eyes of yours. He wanted you to do what? Why would you ever thank him?

“Fucking thank me for letting you swallow all my cum like a good girl."

There’s a dark edge in his voice, low grunts coming from his chest as his pace quickened, cock twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck that’s a good girl.” Jake mentioned in between grunts and low moans, 

“Thank you-” You manage to choke out, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat.

As soon as you say the words, hot ropes of cum are spurting from his dick, coating the inside of your mouth white. His thrusts coming to a halt as he lets out a moan, cock twitching in your mouth.

The noises coming from him sent a heat down to your core, clenching your thighs. There was still no way you were getting turned on by him, but you couldn't help but want his cock inside of you.

“Swallow.” He  pulled his length out of your mouth, looking down at you. Jake's voice was laced with a certain dark edge to it. 

Jake crouches down to your level, palm of his hand holding your chin as his two fingers squish your cheeks, preventing you from spitting.

And you do, with no other choice at the moment. The way he looks at you like you’re inferior to him makes you feel so small right now. His cum slides down your throat, almost washing away the hateful words you want to curse him with.

You looked at him with a fiery intensity. Half tempted to slap that cocky smile off his handsome face. Damn him for being so arrogant, for getting you in this situation. 

Your hands went to his shoulder, pushing him on his back. Jake didn’t make any attempt to stop you, he just looked at you with a cocky grin. Oh how badly you wanted to prove him wrong. 

Moving yourself on top, tossing your loincloth, legs straddling the side of his hips. Your hands found their way to his cock, aligning it with your entrance, sliding down.

Well, fuck.

You did not calculate his size. Fuck, it felt like he was splitting you in two. Throwing your head back, letting out a moan. There was a pain from the stretch, hands on his abs to stabilize yourself.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it? Thought a slut like you would be able to.” His hands held your waist, pulling you deeper on him until he was all inside, letting out a groan.

You didn’t even think it was possible to take his size, legs shaking as your cunt adjusted. The pain mixed in with the pleasure, creating an overwhelming feeling that sent sparks all over your body. His tip was prodding at your cervix, his cock stretching you more than you could stretch yourself. 

“Atta girl, see? You could do it, just needed a little push.” The more Jake spoke, the more you wanted to slap him.

“Be quiet, so fucking cocky..” You mumbled, moving your hips up and down. Your mind was practically telling you to stop, that he was your enemy, you weren’t supposed to end up fucking. 

It’s not like you could stop anyways. As much as you hated Jake, as much as your rivalry ran deep, he just felt too good to stop.

Jake leaned back, watching the way your hips desperately moved, watching the way you slide up and down with some sort of urgency that was mixed with lust.

“Yea, can’t be calling me stupid now when you’re bouncing all up on my cock like a whore.” 

His gaze was fixed on your face, watching how your face contorted with pleasure, your plump lips opening to let out moans. 

It was a sight to see, and a sight he was going to keep in his memory. 

Jake’s hands held your hips in place, stopping your movement. One of his hands went to your hair, pulling you down onto his chest. Bringing his hips back, he thrusted into you with a force that you swore knocked the wind out of you.

His pace was rough and ruthless, fucking you dumb. All you could do was mewl and moan on his cock. You couldn’t even formulate a full sentence anymore, your body too lost in the euphoria. 

Then came back that familiar feeling again, ropes knotting in your stomach, coiling tight on each other. 

“Fuck- ‘s too much.. Jake-” You can’t help but let his name slip past your lips, your orgasm building up with such an intense and quick force, overwhelming your senses.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Gonna come for me?” Jake let out a low chuckle, hand finding its way to your bottom, holding one of your asscheeks before giving it a spank. 

The sensation and burn of it sent you overboard, coming around his cock as he drilled into you. Your lips fell open with a moan as your body shook, waves of pleasure crashing down on you in intense waves.

After a few more thrusts on Jakes end, he was spilling inside you. A low grunt coming to the surface as he held you in place, face burying into the crook of your neck.

For a few moments, you both laid there, just trying to process everything. You slid off him, finding your loincloth and adjusting it back on. You tossed Jake his loincloth, not even looking him in the eye.

You probably couldn’t even look yourself in the eyes after that. How tense things were going to be with the next following days.

You just got yourself into a mess that had only 2 endings. 

taglist: @justasimps-blog

: ©clockmax 2023 ━━━ do not repost, copy, or translate my work.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Dean Winchester x F!SLAYER!Reader

Title: “A Hunter & A Slayer.”

Character(s): Dean Winchester x f!Slayer!Reader, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer mentioned.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, not enough to be considered smutty. Pregnancy is talked about.

*I do not own pictures, nor the characters. Slayer is based off of Buffy, but it’s not Buffy if that makes sense.*

When Dean was dragged to hell by a hellhound, it felt like my lungs had collapsed. My heart was ripped in two, and it felt like my soul had been torn from me.

I watched Sam hold Dean’s lifeless body. All I could think about was Dean’s last words to me:

“Listen to me. You are going to be fine. Live your life, baby. I’m going to be okay.” He said with tears in his eyes. I turned my gaze away from him.

Deans hands cupped my cheeks as his thumbs caught my tears. “Look at me, Y/N. Please.” He pleaded with me, until my eyes looked into his. “You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Who would’ve thought a slayer and a hunter could be together.” He said with a sad chuckle. “The day you laid me out on the cement, that was when I knew I’d end up falling in with love you. Even though you had a wooden stake near my heart, it turned me on in more ways than one.”

I smiled and he brought my forehead to his lips. Dean pressed his head against mine, “I love you.” He said as he ran his fingers through my long hair. “I know I didn’t say it as often as I should have, but I love you. I love you now and I’ll love you even when I’m dead and gone. I will always remember your eyes, your smile, and your hair.”

Before he let me speak, he pressed a firm, loving kiss to my lips. “Take care of Sammy.” He whispered, and those were the last words I heard, before my world stopped.

—

Sam cried over his body, “No…No…No, Dean.” Anger had taken over my sadness, and I marched out the front door, and climbed up into my jeep. I slammed the door shut and started the ignition. But before I could put the Jeep in drive, Sam pulled open my driver side door. “Where are you going? Wait for me to get Dean and we-we can go.” He said and I shook my head as I clipped my seatbelt.

“Sam, go get Dean. Take him to Bobby. I will be there as soon as I can.” I said wiping the hot tears from my cheeks. Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew me just as well as Dean did.

“No. Where are you going? Are you seriously going to sell your… this is what got us here in the first place, Y/N.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Soul. I stared at the road in front of me. “They will take it in a matter of seconds, Sammy. I’m the slayer. I have pissed off a lot of demons, and they would love nothing more than to drag me to hell.” I whisper and Sam picked up my hand.

“Dean wouldn’t want you to do it, Y/N. He- he loved you. He would be angry that you would book yourself a one way trip to hell.” He said and I couldn’t hold my tears back anymore.

“I can’t live without him, Sam! He is and will always be my first love. I can never love anyone like I loved Dean! My teenage years got ripped out right from under me- I’m the slayer! I’m supposed to do this for the rest of my life, and he understood me. He understood me better than anyone.” I say as I hit the steering wheel with my fists, and Sam unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me out of the Jeep. I started kicking the side of it, “If anyone could have stopped that demon bitch, it was me! I was strong enough!” I said as my hand went through the glass of the rear view mirror.

Sam grabbed me from behind and held my shaking body. “I didn’t even get to tell him he was going to be a father.” I said out of breath, and Sam fell to the ground, cradling my body, as I cradled my bloodied hand.

His silent tears had turned into sobs, and he buried his face in my hair. We mourned his death on that ground, for more than an hour. Sam was the one who had to load Dean’s body- I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his body torn and mangled.

Instead, I got into my Jeep, and I bundled myself up in Dean’s leather jacket. It still smelled like him, and that entire ride to Bobby’s— all I could do was cry. My baby was going to be fatherless, and I was going to be alone. How was I going to do this? Be a slayer and be a mother?

The two worlds didn’t mesh, and it would never work out. I have to go through this alone. Sammy and Bobby would be there, but I needed Dean. If Sam wasn’t following right behind me, I would have found a cross road by now.

-

When we got to Bobby’s, it was like the wound was ripped opened all over again. The next day, Bobby had cleaned up Dean’s body and put clean clothes on his body. Sam took off Dean’s amulet, and he gave me his ring. I put Dean’s ring on a necklace and wore it every day after that. But then, the two men started arguing on what to do with Dean’s body.

“We need to give him a hunters burial. You know that Sam.” Bobby said.

“No, we need his body. We’re just going to bury him, and believe me, I will get Dean back.” Sam argued, and finally I had stood up from the couch.

“Let’s just bury him for now. If we want to salt and burn him later, we can. But let’s not argue. This is not the time or the place.” I say as I looked between Bobby and Sam.

Bobby scoffed, “You’re the calmest pregnant woman I have ever met.” He said as he turned around and held on to the back of the chair. “Fine. We will just bury him. Come on. Let’s go find a good spot.”

___

After that, everyone had spread far apart. Sam was somewhere in Illinois, and I went back to Texas. I found a good rental house, and started a new life in a small town where every one knew every one. My slayer duties went on the back burner.

Sam came down every time I had a doctor’s appointment, and held my hand throughout this new journey. At this point, I didn’t correct the nurses when they asked if he was the baby’s father. A new glimpse of hope had opened for Sam, and I had never seen him smile so big as he smiled at the tiny fetus on the screen.

It had been four months since Dean had died, and I was now five months pregnant. My belly was still small, but if I wore a tight fitting shirt, it looked more rounded and bigger.

Sam had left the day before and I had the day off from new job at a law firm. I hated having days off because my mind would go straight to Dean, and I would find myself in a depressive episode. The only comfort I could find was by wearing one of his old t-shirts. I had one left that still smelled like his cologne, and his scent.

I sat on the couch wiping a tear from my cheek, when a knock on the door startled me. I rubbed my face, trying to hide the fact that I was crying. When I opened the door, I took a step back.

“Y/N, it’s- it’s me.” Dean said as he took in my surroundings, and I continued to step back. I don’t know what hellish nightmare I was living it, but I didn’t stay shocked for long.

I ripped the “decorative” scythe off of the wall, and began swinging it. “Get back!” I shouted with tears running down my face. “Dean” held out his hands towards me,

“Baby, it’s me. I know this is probably freaky as hell, but imagine how I feel.”

I swung the scythe once more, and when he didn’t back up, I ran towards him. Quickly, I swiped the demon of his feet, and stood above him with the wooden end of the scythe pressed firmly where his heart was.

Staring down at the face that had been stolen, I couldn’t help but to choke back a sob. “You have to be a shifter.” I say through gritted teeth, and “Dean” held the end of the scythe.

“Baby. It’s me. It’s Dean. Just listen to me, before you kill me! Your full name is Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.” When I started to not buy it, “Dean” started talking faster.

“You had long hair before I died, and before I died I told you that I wish I would have told you how much I loved you.” He whispered. “You have this small heart shaped birth mark on your collar bone. And uh, you make this sweet little sound when you get ready to..”

I dropped the scythe to the floor and I fell right on top of Dean. He sat up to where his back was leaning up against the side of my couch, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I couldn’t stop the tears or my sobs that left my lips.

“Dee…. How..How could this have happened? How are you here right now?” My body was shaking, and his arms tightened around me.

“I’m trying to figure that out. All I remember is that it was lights out for me. And then strangely enough, these memories of me and you were floating around in my head, and bam, I was back.” He said, and I heard a sniffle come from him. We sat there in silence until his finger tips started combing through my hair. “Your hair…. Why did you cut it?” He asked, and I finally had the courage to look him in the face.

His green eyes were brighter than ever. He was beautiful- glowy, almost. “Because. Well, I don’t know. After we buried you, all of these emotions- I just couldn’t stand myself.” I said, and I looked up at him.

I had to be honest with him. Because what if one of those demons snatched my soul and I didn’t even know?

“I tried to make a deal. With a crossroad demon. Sam told me not to, but one night, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I needed you.”

——

The red eyed demon circled around me, with a proud smile on his face. “A slayer. Making a deal with the likes of me. So uncommon, and rare, might I add.” He said as his fingers ran through my hair. “A beautiful little thing. No wonder, why Dean was so fond of you.”

I pulled away from his grasp. “You know why I am here. Are we going to make a deal or not?” I asked, and the demon tsked. “Of course. But that pretty little soul of yours will only have seven years with Winchester. So is it worth it? I swear with you people, it is a never ending cycle.” He said with a smirk. “Can you imagine the glory and applause I will get when I drag a pretty little slayer to hell?”

Before I could agree to the terms and conditions, another demon showed up, but this time in a woman’s body. “Oh Claudius. What are we doing here with her?” She asked looking me up and down.

“Making a trade. Her slayer soul for Winchester.” He said, and she shook her head. “Are you stupid?” She asked and the Claudius shook his head. “I’ve been in the game longer than you, Tabitha. I know what I’m doing.” He said through gritted teeth.

Her sharp cheek bones sucked in, and she gave him a devilish smile. “Oh, really? You do realize that after she’s dead and gone, another slayer will take her place, right?” She questioned and Claudius took a step back from me. “I didn’t think so. Now come on. Pack it up and let’s go. We have other people dying to sell their soul.” Tabitha said.

Before I could even protest, they disappeared and I was left alone. In the dark. Alone. With a feeling of loss. And guilt.

___

After I finished telling Dean what happened, he sat there staring at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, and I was taken back by his question. “Dean, you would’ve done the same thing for me.” I said, and he stood up and sat me down on the couch.

“This is the whole reason we were in that mess in the first place. I don’t want you to ever experience what I went through.” He said, and his eyes were filled with terror. “I couldn’t live with myself, knowing you sold your soul, only to get me for seven years.”

I stood up and pulled a small picture out of a book on the coffee table. I handed it to Dean, “Maybe not. But this baby would’ve given you something to live for Dean.” I said and Dean’s fingers held up the picture.

He fell back onto the couch, and his hand rubbed against his cheek. “You’re…You’re pregnant?” He asked and I nodded with tear filled eyes.

“I found out the day before… before we lost you.” I say and Dean got up and pressed his lips to mine. This kiss was different from his “I’m back” kiss. This kiss was hungry, full of adoration, and want and need.

He held my neck firmly, and I started to get weak in the knees. The four months he was gone, felt like an eternity, and the smell of his cologne clouded my senses.

Dean lifted me up off the ground, and I knew the drill. I wrapped my legs around his waist; slowly he pulled his lips away from mine. “Where’s the bedroom?” He asked.

“Down the hall, last door on the right.” I say and he grinned.

“Why Texas?” He asked and I shrugged. “This is where you kissed me for the first time.” I say and his lips slammed against mine again. Dean was good at multitasking; he kicked the bedroom door opened, then closed it behind us.

He pressed my back up against the bedroom door, and my legs were still wrapped around him. I removed his band t-shirt, exposing my breasts, and Dean let out a groan. “Seeing you like this never gets old.” He whispered against my lips.

Dean switched between opened mouthed kisses, and nipping at my neck. His hands massaged my breasts as he took each nipple between his fingers.

Slowly he pulled me away from the door and laid me down on the bed. “You’re wearing too much.” I said as I stood on my knees and helped remove his t-shirt.

When the t-shirt was discarded to the floor, I was shocked to see his bare chest. The scars that littered his chest, were no longer there. He was new. There was one scar in particular that I would kiss, because he always stated how ugly it looked.

I still pressed a kiss to where it used to be and he smiled. “I’m good as new, baby.” He said and I ran my fingers through his hair, and pressed another kiss to his lips.

I couldn’t get enough of him. If I could sit here and kiss him forever, I would. This was my version of heaven. Him. All I need was him, and my life was perfect. His hands snaked around my bare back, and he laid me down, climbing on top of me, with one knee between my legs, and the other on the outside of my body.

He kissed from my cheek, to my lips, all the way down to my belly button. Then he quickly pulled away. “What’s the matter?” I ask, and I look down and he’s staring at the very small bump.

I smiled and grabbed his hand and placed it on the bump. Deans eyes were bright, and he was in shock. The shock had finally sat in. “Dean are you-”

His look of disbelief had turned into a smile. “My God, you are beautiful. This really is happenin’, huh?” He questioned and I smiled up at him.

“Yeah—yeah, I guess it is.” I replied and he hovered over me, holding himself up on his left arm, while his right hand remained on my belly.

This kiss he pressed to my lips, was even more gentle than the ones before that. “Who would’ve thought. A hunter and a slayer. Having a baby. You and I, we’re having a baby.” He whispered with the biggest smile on his face.

His forehead was pressed to mine- and I was taken back to the tears that rolled down my cheeks when he told me to take care of Sammy. How was this my reality? I wondered, and my hand traced up to his left bicep.

Dean hissed at the feeling of my palm, and I removed my hand and looked at his bicep. A red hand print was burned into the skin, and my hand went to my mouth. “What happened?” I asked, and Dean looked back down at me.

“I don’t know. When I crawled out of that pine box, it was there.” He said with a look of disgust. I sat up and I pressed kiss to the red mark.

Dean looked at me and smiled. “I love you, Y/N.” He said and I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you more.” I said back and his cheeks turned red.

“I’m fixing to show you how much I love you.” He said with a chuckle, and as he pulled down my sweatpants he asked, “This isn’t going to hurt the baby, right?”

I laughed. “No. It won’t. Now come here, we have four months of catching up to do.” I say and Dean mumbled, “More like forty-years..”

I didn’t question what he meant by that. I was just happy to have Dean back in my arms. Who would’ve thought; a hunter and a slayer. Having a baby.

——-

I hope you guys enjoyed this random Supernatural x reader! Maybe a part 2 on how they met? 👀let me know in the comments!

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 8: She's The Salt Of The Earth And She's Dangerous]

A/N: Be sure to vote in the poll pinned to the top of my blog AFTER you finish reading!!! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace (again).

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “She's A Rebel” by Green Day.

Word count: 7.4k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

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“I’m sorry if I was a creep when we first met,” Aegon says. He’s been oddly philosophical since he was burned. “I hadn’t seen a hot single chick in a while, and I wanted to fuck you.”

Cregan siphoned just enough gas from a decrepit Chrysler Sebring in Merna to take the Tahoe two and a half hours west to Little Thunder Bay Campground on the shores of Lake McConaughy, a manmade reservoir and New Deal project from the 1930s. You glance over at Aegon dubiously, amused. “Do I count as hot?”

“Yeah, Chippendales, you’re hot. In like a…you live in a cabin and knit sweaters by a crackling fireplace kind of way.”

You smile. “So you got over that.”

“Oh no, I still want to fuck you. Now I just know you better, so I wouldn’t want to offend you by being obnoxious about it.”

“That’s sweet, I guess. I appreciate your discretion.”

“No problem. If you ever decide you want to take a ride on a less distinguished Targaryen brother, let me know.”

The two of you are fishing from a boat launch, dry splintering planks of wood, opaque rippling water, soft wind and bright sunshine from an aquamarine, cloudless sky. Cregan found the fishing poles in the abandoned RV you’ve moved into, a Winnebago Spirit with one of those stick figure family decals on the back window, Mom, Dad, four lovely children and a dog too, all of whom are perhaps alive but more likely dead and in any case nowhere to be found here in this tranquil corner of western Nebraska, 150 miles from the Wyoming border. Helaena digs worms from the earth, then Rhaena slices them into wriggling segments with a hunting knife and brings them to you and Aegon to be impaled on barbed hooks. Aemond, Rio, Daeron, Luke, and Cregan are swimming about twenty yards down the beach, soaked boxer shorts and nothing else, splashing each other and scrubbing the grime off their skin from a morning spent gathering wood for the firepit and the grill; Ice is paddling joyfully alongside them. Baela floats on her back and peers vacantly up into the vast blue nothingness. Aegon is not permitted in the water, as his leg is an open wound beneath his bandages. You ask him as you recast your fishing line: “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

You shrug, smirking guiltily. You thought it was obvious.

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, slow and lazy. “Oh, I get it. A loser.”

“I didn’t say loser.”

“You thought loser.”

“I implied loser.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been called worse things by people I admire much less.” He contemplates his answer as he gazes down into the water, sluggish stoned reverie. Aemond must be almost out of morphine by now. At last Aegon says: “I think the first thing I ever learned was that no matter how hard I tried, no one was ever going to love me. Not in a normal kind of way, Disney movie love, Christmas rom-com love. So I stopped trying. Mother wanted me to play piano, so I bombed the recital. Father wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, so I skipped class, went golfing and yachting, didn’t even bother to pay someone to write halfway decent essays for me. If they couldn’t love me unconditionally, I wasn’t interested in meeting their conditions.” Then he chuckles, the breeze combing through his hair, ninety degrees and only getting hotter. “I refused to work. All you’ve ever done is work. You must hate me.”

“No, I get it.” You reel in your line; a fish has stolen the worm from your hook, tiny clandestine nibbles. You impale a slimy new victim and recast. “No one wants to be used.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I wasn’t going to spend my life doing shit I didn’t want to do so my parents could brag about me to their insufferable friends and absolve themselves of their mistakes. Mother married a man who didn’t give a fuck about her, Father ignored us all. Me being a success story would have given them the impression they did something right. I couldn’t have that.”

So Aemond had to be the success story instead. You glance down the beach at where he is bursting through the water and slicking back his dripping hair from his face, showing Luke a bone he found in the muddy silt of Lake McConaughy, hopefully not human.

Aegon follows your eyeline. “Aemond went the other way, I guess. Always so pathetically desperate for their approval. Scrabbling for crumbs of it like a rat. That’s what the thing with Alys was all about, it’s the only explanation I have. Older woman, surrogate mother, comforting but chilly, fawning but forbidden, always keeping him at an arm’s length and rewarding his tricks with treats.” He smirks flirtatiously, then sees that he’s hurt you. “Oh, um, I mean…look, it wasn’t…it wasn’t a good thing, you know? He wasn’t happy. It was a seven-year-long psychotic episode, not a relationship.”

“You mentioned that Criston likes Aemond,” you say, pivoting. “The…what is he? A family friend, an assistant?”

“My mother’s personal security guard. And yeah, he cares about Aemond. He’s proud of him, he trust him, he thinks he’s more capable than any of the rest of us, and that’s probably true. It’s definitely true compared to me. But that doesn’t mean Criston always knows how to express it.”

You look out over the water, trying not to imagine Aemond touching Alys, this woman you hate without knowing her face. You wonder if he ever wishes you were more like her: older, clever, entrancing, masterful. “It must have been a strange way to grow up.”

“Cold,” Aegon says. “Hollow. Holidays, birthdays, vacations, everything. You go through the motions but something’s always missing. When you’re little, you think it’s your fault, and then eventually you realize that they’re going to be miserable whether you’re there or not. But you can get out if you’re willing to run far enough.” He scratches at his forearm, and your eyes catch fleetingly on the black ink of his tattoo: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. You had told Rio something similar when you were stranded on that transmission tower in Catawissa, Pennsylvania. “This is fucked up, and I don’t mean that I don’t feel bad about what happened to Jace, and I get that millions of people have died agonizing deaths, and that all sucks, believe me, I know, but this…” He gestures vaguely, to the zombies and the desolation and the collapse of everything you’ve ever known. “It was kind of my Get Out Of Jail Free card. And in a weird way…sometimes I feel like I’ve been happier since the world ended than I ever was before.”

You smile. You know what he means. “Even if your leg gets infected and we have to saw it off without anesthesia like you’re a Civil War soldier?”

Aegon laughs and shakes his head, his hair flopping around. It’s almost long enough for him to have a man bun like Cregan’s if he wanted one “No, probably not. Also, what’s the Civil War?”

“Forget it.”

“No, now I want to know.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Aemond said something interesting this morning while you were picking blackberries with our favorite Trump supporter,” Aegon tells you, salacious and sly, offering a tantalizing morsel he knows you’re powerless to refuse. He pauses and waits for you to admit it to yourself.

“Fine. Okay. What?”

“He said that when you and Cregan are standing next to each other, you look like you belong together.”

You groan, quite loudly. “I have zero interest in Cregan romantically. Literally zero. I don’t think he sees me that way either.”

Aegon shrugs. “The dating pool is awfully small nowadays, Banana Chip. Anyone who’s not a corpse or an immediate blood relative starts to look tasty.”

“So that’s why you like me.”

Aegon grins, teeth he shows often and easily, so unlike Aemond in every way. “No. I think I’d like you anywhere.” He tugs languidly on his fishing pole. “I want a new golf club.” He forgot his at the house in Broken Bow where Jace died.

“We’ll see.”

“I want new shoes too.” One of his Sperry Bahama sneakers was burned beyond repair and filled with shreds of his own singed flesh, scraps like soft bacon fused with the padding and insole. “And some polos.”

“I’m not a Big Lots.”

“Who the fuck shops at Big Lots?” Aegon’s fishing line jerks, and he yanks hard on the pole before reeling in his catch. Suspended at the end is a long green creature, yellowish spots and a villainous angular face. “That is one ugly bitch.”

“It’s a pike,” you say, and then when you grab it you observe that the misfortunate fish has the barb of the hook piercing not through its lip but one of its bulging, glassy eyes. “Oh my God!”

Aegon squeals, horrified. He offers no meaningful assistance. “That’s so gross, that’s so gross, what are we going to do?!”

“We have to, like, I don’t know, grab the back of the hook from inside its mouth and pull it out of the eyeball, I guess…?!”

“Yeah, awesome. Good luck with that.”

You reach tentatively into the pike’s gaping mouth. Its jaws snap shut, needlelike teeth stinging your wrist. “Ow!”

“Cregan!” Aegon bellows. “Cregan, help!”

Now the others are running to the boat launch to see what’s going on, Helaena and Rhaena from the shore, everyone else from the lake, Luke helping Baela wring the water from her sundress and Ice galloping alongside Cregan. He gets a look at the pike and guffaws, loud and rumbling.

“Poor little guy. That’s some bad luck he’s got.”

“Can you get the hook out?” you ask, eager to surrender the fish, which is still thrashing franticly and gnashing its teeth, mindless cold-blooded death throes.

“Of course I can.” Cregan plucks the pike from your grasp, shoves his massive hand into its mouth, and rips the hook out with one effortless maneuver. The pike is freed, but its eyeball remains speared on the hook. Then Cregan spies blood on your wrist. “You okay there, Miss Chips?”

“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”

“Freaking disgusting, man,” Aegon mutters; he and Rio are ogling the disembodied eyeball, complete with a frayed optic nerve like a tail, with identical, stunned revulsion.

You turn to smile up at Aemond, but he doesn’t notice you. He is staring at Cregan, his sole blue eye narrow and fixed and flat like still water.

~~~~~~~~~~

“The closest town is Ogallala,” Aegon says as he lays his map across the wooden picnic table. The rest of you are seated around him and picking flaky white meat from between the thin, fragile bones of the pike, which Cregan has gutted and cooked on the large metal grill that careless camping families once roasted marshmallows and hotdogs over. Helaena is at the edge of the table and writing in her spider notebook, elegant loops of cursive. Ice is lying on her belly and gnawing on a rabbit she killed for herself, its doomed black eyes gazing up at you.

“That has to be what, ten miles south?” Rio says apprehensively.

Aegon licks grease from his fingers. “Yup. A little more, probably.”

“What about Lemoyne?” Daeron says, pointing. “Or Keystone, or even Belmar? They’re all closer.”

“See how small the names are written?” Aegon tells him. “That means they’re not actual communities. They’re like a few stop signs and maybe a Dollar General and that’s it.”

“I love Dollar General,” Cregan says, nostalgic. “Man, do y’all remember Chicken in a Biskit? I used to park myself in front of the tv and eat boxes and boxes—”

“It has to be Ogallala,” Aemond insists. “We need pharmacies and grocery stores and cars to siphon gas from, we need a real town.”

Rhaena chews her lower lip anxiously. “The Tahoe is empty. We have maybe half a gallon left and that’s it. Just enough to get down to Ogallala if we’re lucky, but not back.”

“So we’ll drive until it dies and then we’ll walk. Cregan has a gas can in the back, if we find fuel we can bring some back to the Tahoe and continue from there.”

“Walk, huh?” Aegon says, looking down at his bandaged left leg, which he can’t put any weight on. He gets around by hopping, leaning against other people (oftentimes against their will), and being carried by Rio.

“Well, you’re not going,” Aemond tells him. “And Baela isn’t either.”

Baela, gazing blankly down at the map, says nothing. A brown striped snake darts through the grass only a few feet from the picnic table, moving swiftly towards the lake, and there are alarmed gasps and yelps.

“Northern water snake,” Helaena says, glancing up from her notebook. “Not venomous.”

“Good,” Rhaena replies with a shudder.

Luke says fearfully as he reads the map: “Aemond, last time we went into a town that big was Broken Bow, and…Jace…the farmhouse…”

Aemond slams his fists down on the table. “We have to, okay? We need food and water. We need bullets. I need more pain meds and bandages for Aegon, I need antiseptic and Neosporin, and Vaseline for when he’s healing, and supplies for when Baela goes into labor too, since I’ve had to use everything I had saved.”

“We need pads and tampons too,” Helaena says as she examines the black-ink inventory in her notebook. “And Advil, lip balm, bars of soap, hair ties, and socks and underwear. And that green jelly aloe vera stuff for Aegon’s sunburn.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Aemond agrees. “We need a lot of things. And we have to refuel so we can keep moving west.”

“We could stay here,” Baela says, so softly that at first you aren’t sure if you heard her right.

“What, Baela?” Rhaena asks gently.

“I want to stay here.” Baela is more resolute now. “I want to have the baby here.”

Nobody knows how to respond. Rio gives you a troubled glance. You nod in agreement, so subtly you doubt anyone else notices. Not an option.

Aemond is calm but unwavering. “Baela, I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

She pleads her case. “I like the Winnebago. I like the lake. I’m comfortable here, and we’re out in the middle of nowhere, and I…I think we could make this our home for a while, now that we’ve found someplace like this. Someplace quiet and safe.”

“We’re not safe here, Baela,” Aemond says. “It feels like we’re safe, but we’re not. We aren’t a big enough group to reliably be able to defend ourselves. We don’t have adequate supplies. We have a lake to our backs, sure, but the rest of the shoreline is open for anybody to walk right into, and our visibility is blocked by trees. No one has stumbled across us yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. And if they do we’re extremely vulnerable. But when we get to the west coast, we’ll be home.”

“I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being afraid.”

“I understand. I am too.”

“It’s different,” Baela says, abruptly fierce. “You don’t know what this feels like. None of you do. I’ve never given up and I’ve never asked to be taken care of, I’ve always been the strong one, but I’m so goddamn tired, and I want to have my baby here, and I…I…” Her large dark eyes are glistening, haunted. “Every time we’re driving I feel like I see him sitting next to me, or standing out in the middle of the road, and then I have to remember what happened all over again, and…I just…I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Rhaena takes Baela’s hands in her own, skims her thumbs across Baela’s knuckles; Luke rubs her back reassuringly. The rest of you can only offer silent, pitying looks. There are no easy answers, no fortuitous gold strikes, no shortcuts. The only way out is through.

“Whatever you guys decide, I’m leaving either way,” Rio says. “Sophie’s waiting for me in Oregon. I can’t just hang out in Nebraska forever. I’ll walk if I have to.”

“It’s over a thousand miles,” Aegon tells him.

“Doesn’t matter, man. I gotta do it.”

You add: “Obviously, I’d have to go with Rio.”

Both Aemond and Aegon appear startled. “We’ll be on the road again soon,” Aemond promises. “Tomorrow, if we can find gas in Ogallala.”

“I’m not going,” Baela whispers.

“We have to, Baela,” Rhaena implores. “It’ll be alright. We’ll take care of you, and the baby too when the time comes.”

Baela stands, strides to the Winnebago, disappears inside and slams the door behind her.

“She’ll be okay,” Rhaena tells the rest of you. “She’s…you know, she’s shaken up. She’s not thinking clearly. But she’ll realize this was the right decision. The only decision, really.”

“It’s best if we can get set up somewhere permanent before she goes into labor,” Aemond says, as if he’s defending himself. “Traveling with a baby…Baela recovering…it would be very dangerous for all of us.”

“Luke and I are thinking the same things, Aemond. We agree with you.”

He gives Rhaena an appreciative smile, very small but sincere. Then he turns to Daeron. “Baela and Aegon will have to wait here when I go south to Ogallala, since they can’t walk in the event the Tahoe runs out of gas. You’re going to stay behind to protect them.”

“Got it,” Daeron says soberly. All the bullets are gone; his compound bow, fed with arrows fashioned from sticks, is the best weapon you have left. Cregan has his axe, Rio still prefers to bash skulls with the butt of his Remington shotgun, everyone else must make do with hunting knives from that cellar back in Pennsylvania and kayak paddles found here at Lake McConaughy.

Aemond looks around the table. “I’ll need Rio, Cregan, and Luke.”

“And our beloved furball Blue Raspberry Icee,” Aegon says, smirking. “To sniff out any zombies.”

“Yes. Ice too.”

“What about me?” you say, staring incredulously at Aemond.

“Not you. You’re staying here in the RV.”

“If you and Rio are going, I’m going.”

“No, you’re not,” Aemond says. “You’re the best shot, and we all agree about that, but we’re fresh out of bullets. You therefore have no advantage tactically.”

“What’s Luke’s advantage?”

There are awkward chuckles. Aemond leaves the picnic table and gestures for you to follow him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Why?”

Aemond doesn’t answer; he keeps walking until he’s hidden amongst a small grove of Kentucky coffeetrees, oval emerald leaves and umber seed pods that hang from branches, reminding you of skate egg cases—what some people call mermaid’s purses—you once found washed up on the beach outside Djibouti City. Rio teases you: “Ohhh, you’re in troubleee…”

You swat him on the back of the head; his hair is getting long too, dark curls that flutter in the breeze that comes in off the lake, hot and humid, the infinite wildness of July. “If I’m not going, you have to swear that you’ll—”

“I got it, I got it,” Rio says, blasé and jolly. “I’ll look underneath things, I’ll look on top of things, I’ll look everywhere. Okay?”

Aegon kicks him with his good foot. “Get me a golf club.”

“I’m not a Dick’s!”

“Dicks?! Who brought up dicks, you sicko…?!”

You go after Aemond and meet him in the shade, an island of twilight in the omnipotent golden morning. He pushes you against one of the Kentucky coffeetrees—rough bark to your back, prodding you through your t-shirt—and nuzzles your throat as he presses his hips to yours, blissful clandestine surrender as your knees weaken and you gaze dizzily up into the canopy of leaves.

You sigh: “This is not an explanation. This is a distraction. A very enjoyable one, but a distraction nonetheless.”

“Daeron is good with a bow, but he’s young,” Aemond murmurs. “I need you to help him protect the others.”

“You’ve managed to make this sound like a promotion.”

“And,” Aemond continues. “When things get risky and chaotic, and I’m trying to make sure everyone is safe…I find you being around to be…distracting.”

“Rio doesn’t think I’m a distraction.”

He chuckles, avoidant. “That’s not an equivalent situation.”

“I get that Luke has binoculars, but I am also perfectly capable of using binoculars, and I could borrow his and he could stay here. I really don’t think he’d mind being benched, he’d probably prefer it—”

“I always ask you to stay near Rio, and you never do, and then I have to worry about you getting lost or bitten or imperiled in any one of a million other ways.”

“Because it’s not that simple! Rio gets it, I have to be able to improvise—”

Suddenly, Aemond pulls away and asks: “Do you trust me?”

You are bewildered. “What?”

“Because I could understand if you don’t.”

You search his scarred face; he has that look like he’s trying not to reveal too much of himself, to show that he’s nervous or vulnerable or afraid. You touch your palm to his ravaged cheek, your voice soft. “I trust you, Aemond.”

He seems relived. “Good. Then please stay here.”

“You’ll watch out for Rio?” you say threateningly.

“Of course.”

“And yourself too.”

He grins, those small secretive teeth he loves to hide. “That’s the plan.”

“And you’ll check under things and on top of things, and you’ll remember what I said about the racks? When you go into stores and you’re rummaging through—?”

Aemond kisses you, warm and slow and kind, the curve of his lips pleased and mischievous. “It’s flattering that you’re so concerned.”

“And don’t forget the pads and tampons.”

His scarred eyebrow rises half an inch. “Oh?”

“I’m already having pre-period cramps. I’ll need supplies in a few days.”

“You’ll have them. Don’t fear.” Then he studies you, concerned, his brow furrowing and his palm testing your cheek and forehead. “You feeling okay? You’re sure that’s all it is?”

“Oh yeah, totally. It’s very routine at this point, I’ve had a decade to get accustomed.”

“Alright. If there’s anything else you think of before we head out, I’ll add it to the list.” He takes your hand and examines the shallow scratches left on your wrist by the needlelike teeth of the pike. “Let me clean and wrap that up for you. I think I have just enough bandages left.”

“Your worst nightmare came true,” you joke. “I was bitten after all.”

Aemond doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s long after nightfall and you and Aegon are keeping watch just outside the Winnebago Spirit, slumped in folding camping chairs people once told their legends from: scary stories, workplace grievances, familial mythology. In the firepit, logs split and pop, and embers glow a bloody red. You’re waiting for the Tahoe to return and trying not to think about the possibility it might not.

“These suck,” Aegon says, garbled by a mouthful of Cheddar Whales, grimacing at the bright blue box. “Why do you and Rio eat these? They’re like…dodgy Goldfish.”

“Are you kidding?! They’re way better than Goldfish! Goldfish don’t taste like anything.”

“And Cheddar Whales taste like salty cardboard. The American Dream.” Aegon passes the box back to you. “They better come back with some SpaghettiOs or Rice-A-Roni or something. I can’t survive on Cregan’s overcooked fish.” He lights a Marlboro Gold cigarette by sticking it into the fire and takes a deep drag, looking up at the stars. Aemond gave him the last of the morphine before he left, and Aegon is floating on a feathery, narcotic cloud.

You say after at last working up the nerve: “So you’re a slut, right?”

He snickers, firelight dancing on his sunburned face. “Slut, loser, you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a slut. Why?”

“Have you ever had trouble…” Your hands flail around aimlessly; it’s so awkward to say out loud. “You know…getting it in?”

“No, not really. But I’m hung like a hamster.” He looks over at you, curious shimmering stoned blue eyes. “Technical difficulties, Chip And Dip? Not enough dipping going on?”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re probably just nervous. Aemond’s a doctor, he’d be able to tell if you had something wonky down there, like those chicks who are born without a vagina. Or with two vaginas. Jesus Christ, can you imagine the possibilities? Why can’t I meet someone like that?”

You stare into the fire, discouraged. “I’m going to ruin everything.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Aemond will assume it’s his fault. He thinks everything is his fault.”

Through the darkness, you spot headlights bobbing as the Tahoe approaches on bumpy dirt roads. “Oh, thank God. They’re back.”

“About time. If Rio didn’t find me a new golf club, I’m going to drown him in the lake.”

“He could break you in half.”

“But he wouldn’t.”

“No.”

“Because he likes me too much.”

“Right.”

“Maybe you like me too,” Aegon says as he exhales smoke, his glazed eyes listing to you, his grin crooked and drowsy. “Just a little bit.”

You smile reluctantly. “I might.”

“Cool.” He beams up at the stars, and then says again: “Cool.”

As the massive SUV rolls to a halt, the headlights cascading over you and so bright they’re nearly blinding, you notice the red letters on the grill: GMC. “That’s not the Tahoe,” you say, panicked.

“What? Then who is it?”

“I don’t know.” You stand up, instinctively reaching for one of your M9s; but they’re both empty. All the guns are. Your hand drops to your side.

Aegon, unable to rise on his own, remains in his chair and grips the armrests tightly. He whispers: “Should we go inside…?!”

“They’ve already seen us. But they don’t know who’s in the RV.” Rhaena, Baela, Helaena. With a shiver like a bolt of cold lightning, you recall what Aemond said at the bowling alley back in Shenandoah, Ohio: I don’t want them to know we have women with us.

The GMC Yukon is still running when two men step out, the headlights disorientingly bright. They are both armed, you see immediately, pistols that you’d guess are Colts. Aegon’s hand juts out and closes around your forearm as the strangers approach. They are both young, maybe twenty, and wearing jeans, camo jackets, and baseball hats like they’re going hunting. They stand in the yellow-white glow of the headlights as they watch you.

“Hi,” you say congenially, forcing a smile.

The men glance at each other, then one greets you with a nod. “Howdy.”

“We’re set up here,” you say. “But it’s a big campground. You’re welcome to any of the other spots.”

The man who spoke earlier chuckles and scratches at his short beard. You steal a glimpse back at Aegon: his eyes are huge and horrified.

“It’s real quiet on the lake,” you continue. “We haven’t had any problems, and we’ve been here a few days. It’s a good place. We’re happy to share it. We don’t…” You deliberate what words to use. “We aren’t interested in making trouble. We just want to be left alone.”

The man replies: “I camped here every single summer growing up, learned to fish here, swam in the water with my cousins, brought my girlfriends here to fuck. And now you’re inviting me to stay? You’re not from here. I can tell by your accent. This is my backyard. You’re the one who should be asking for permission.”

Aegon is making a low, whimpering sound; his fingernails are digging into the defenseless, downy underside of your forearm. “We don’t have anything of value,” you say, your voice trembling.

“Uh huh.” The stranger’s gaze flicks to the Winnebago.

“We found it. There’s no gas, no keys. Two of the tires are flat. It’s just shelter.”

“Who else is in the RV?”

“No one.”

The second man is squinting at Aegon. “Is he a cripple?”

“He was burned. That’s why we’re resting here for a while, so he can heal.”

The first man points to the bandage on your wrist. “Did you try to kill yourself? My neighbor did that when her kid got eaten. Slit her veins open out in the middle of the street. Bad scene.”

“I got mauled by a fish,” you reply numbly.

He laughs, a slow, rolling, mocking sort of sound, not taking his eyes off you. Then they drop to the Beretta M9s you have holstered at your waist. “Are those loaded?”

“Yes.”

He signals to the nearest Kentucky coffeetree. “Prove it. Shoot that tree.” You stare at its trunk, stark in the headlights of the strangers’ SUV. Long seconds tick by, the only sound the idling of the engine and the crackling of the firepit. “You can’t,” the man says, grinning. “Because you’re out of bullets. But I’m not.”

He raises his pistol and fires, a thunderclap, a mechanical roar. A small circular wound appears in the tree. Aegon shrieks and tries to stand; he tumbles to the earth when the raw, weeping flesh beneath his bandages betrays him. The RV door flies open and Daeron is the first one out, clutching his compound bow but still blinking his way out of the dreams he was jolted from. He won’t be able to nock one of his makeshift arrows before they shoot him.

“What the hell’s going on—?!”

“Drop it!” the stranger shouts, and both he and his companion aim their pistols at Daeron. He freezes. Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena exit the RV and begin screaming, clinging to each other.

“Do what they ask,” you tell Daeron, trying to remain calm. With great hesitancy, he sets his bow on the earth and puts his empty palms in the air. There are hunting knives inside the RV, you think. Where did we store them? In a drawer, in a cabinet?

The men are now herding you all into the RV, jabbing the barrels of their pistols against your backs and bellies. “Let’s go, everybody in,” the first one says. The second man hooks an arm forcefully under one of Aegon’s and drags him through the threshold, Aegon yowling as his burned leg smacks against the doorframe. The second man forces Aegon and Daeron to kneel on the floor at the front of the RV near the driver’s seat; the other one arranges the women at gunpoint, instructing you to squeeze together to sit in a row on the floral couch. Helaena—farthest from you and closest to the kitchenette booth—is sobbing and covering her ears. Rhaena appears to be hyperventilating. Baela’s head is held high, her face furious and defiant.

Aemond, Rio, Cregan, please come back…

“Now this is interesting,” the first man is saying to his friend. He uses his pistol to indicate to each of you. “We’ve got G.I. Jane, this delicate little sweetheart, a pregnant lady, and Cinderella. Where should we begin…?”

You glance at Rhaena, catch her wide frenzied eyes, then look meaningfully at the drawers across the aisle near the kitchenette stove and sink. Knife? you mouth.

It takes her a moment to realize what you mean, then she inclines her head, an elusive nod. She remembers where they are, where they were stored once she cleaned them this afternoon in the lake water. That’s good; but in order for Rhaena to grab a large serrated hunting knife, the men will need to be distracted.

“There’s a bed in the back,” the second man is saying. “I can see it from here, down the hallway…”

Your gaze is darting around the Winnebago. Aegon is yelling something; the second man pistol-whips him, fortunately not hard enough to fracture his skull.

“Don’t worry,” the first man tells Aegon, background noise you try to ignore as you search for an opportunity. “You’ll get to watch…”

Helaena is trying to get your attention, staring at you with her wide, gleaming blue eyes. You furrow your brow at her, not understanding…and then you see the burlap strap she’s looped around her wrist. Her messenger bag must be in the kitchenette booth beside her. And as you watch, and only for a second, she arranges her fingers in the shape of a gun.

The Ruger, you realize, amazed, that tiny revolver she was always so repelled by. Helaena never used it, but she still has it. And it’s loaded.

Baela is arguing with the men, words you tune out. Helaena points to you, but you shake your head. There’s no way for her to get the Ruger to you without them seeing. You mouth to Helaena, your face severe: You have to do it. Then you look to the first man, presently waving his pistol in Baela’s face.

“I’d like to go first,” you say casually, and all the noise stops.

“No, no, no, I’ll do it,” Aegon tells the men. “You want a blowjob? You want to fuck me in the ass? I’m down. I’m not scared of no dick. I experimented in college.”

Both strangers burst into hysterical laughter. “That’s a mighty generous offer,” the second one says, swiping a tear from his eye. “But that’s not the team we’re on, is it, Wesley?”

The first man, Wesley, is smiling down at you. His gaze sweeps over your body, from your bare feet to your eyes, calm and level. “Why do you want to go first, darling?”

Shoot him, Helaena. Shoot him right now. “I’ve never done it before. I figure I should give it a try before it’s too late.”

Helaena whips the Ruger out of her burlap messenger bag and opens fire. She winces each time it goes off, and her aim is terrible; bullets pierce the ceiling and the walls, striking nowhere near Wesley or his accomplice, but their panicked ducking buys valuable seconds. Daeron and Aegon tackle the man closest to them and wrestle the pistol from his hands. Aegon presses the barrel to his skull, pulls the trigger, kills him instantly. Rhaena flies to one of the drawers and yanks out a hunting knife ten inches long. She buries it in Wesley’s throat, the blade disappearing until the hilt rests on his collarbone. When she rips it free, scarlet blood jets from his severed carotid artery, spraying you, soaking you. Blood is in your eyes and nostrils, hot coppery carnage; when you scream, you can taste it in your mouth.

People are reaching for you and telling you to calm down, that they’ll help you, but you can’t wait. You use your t-shirt to mop as much of the blood as you can from your face and bolt through the door of the RV, running towards the lake. You drop to your knees on the sand and splash yourself, cool moonlit rivulets that wash the blood away. You’re trembling, you’re crying, and when somebody grabs you by the arm you scream and strike out at them, clawing like an animal.

“It’s me,” Aemond says, and only then do you get a good look at him, blood and lake water beading on your eyelashes. He’s wiping blood off your face with his palms, he’s inspecting you for fresh wounds. “Don’t fight, it’s me, it’s me, whose blood is this, what happened—?!”

“You were right,” Baela says to Aemond from where she stands on the sand, a hand resting on her belly. Drifting from the RV are the voices of the others who have just returned: Rio, Cregan, Luke. “We’re not safe here.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, rain falls as you lie entangled with Aemond in the attic bedroom of a ranch house in Red Desert, Wyoming, flashing lightning and flickering candles illuminating bare skin. You are kissing feverishly, your hands all over each other, and Aemond is pushing himself into you; or, rather, he is trying to. There is pain, and you can feel your body turning treasonous, rejecting him, shrinking away from him, fearing that you’ll never be able to satisfy him.

No, no no no…

His voice is hushed and gentle as his lips brush your ear. “Hey, you’re shaking, why are you shaking?”

“I’m okay, I’m fine, keep going.” And then, when he stops: “No, Aemond, don’t—”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You have to. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Instead, he lies down beside you and turns your face to his, fingerprints on the slope of your jaw. He asks again, more firmly: “Why are you shaking?”

All the walls and arches of you collapse, stones tumbling to crack against the earth. You are suddenly fighting tears. Your words come out in a whisper. “I want this to be real.”

He studies your face, distressed. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to lose you. I never thought I’d have something like this and now I’m so afraid of fucking it up.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what Jace thought.”

Aemond pulls you against his chest and holds you as you sink through him into dark, cold, watery dreams, and doesn’t make any more promises he can’t keep.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What time is it on the East Coast right now?” you ask Rio. It’s May and almost a hundred degrees every day in Djibouti City—arid, rainless, sun glare and dust that sting your eyes—so the Navy has you building at night when they won’t have to deal with quite so many Seabees dropping over from heatstroke. Outside the day is turning to a soft lavender dusk and your shift will begin soon. You are dressed—sand-colored t-shirt, camo pants, work boots—and toweling off your hair, still wet from the shower.

Rio is sprawled across the floor of your room, taking up almost all of it; housing at Camp Lemonnier consists of converted shipping containers, each outfitted with its own perpetually whirring air conditioning unit. He is reading Fifty Shades Of Grey. “Like seven hours behind here, so early afternoon, I guess.” Then he looks up at you, suspicious. “Why?”

“I should probably call.”

“Should you really?”

“I want to. I’ll feel guilty if I don’t.”

Rio shakes his head and returns his attention to his reading material. “I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

“You love telling me what to do.”

“I wish you loved listening.” He flips a page, puzzled. “Why the fuck does Sophie like this book so much…?”

You open Facebook Messenger on your phone and make a call. The wifi isn’t good for videos, but old-fashioned audio calls usually work okay. There is an answer on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?” she says, and you can hear the entire house when she turns on speakerphone: the squeaking of the recliner, the droning of a talk show, indistinct speech and chuckling from other people, glass—cups, bottles, baking dishes, ashtrays—clinking sharply.

“Hi, Mama! Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Aw, ain’t you sweet to call.” And you are testing her voice like water from a tap, icy cold, hot enough to scald. At the moment, Mama sounds perfectly lukewarm. “I didn’t count on hearing from you. I know how busy you are.”

That’s a landmine that you step gingerly around. “We definitely have a lot going on here, and there’s the time difference and everything…but I wanted to make sure to say hi, even if I can’t talk for long. What are you up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much.” You hear her smoking: breathe in, breathe out, a cunning sort of pause as she decides how to proceed. Of course there were no extravagant festivities planned. Nothing ever felt like a real holiday at home: Mama getting sloshed and burning the turkey on Thanksgiving, Christmas presents that had to be returned for grocery and gas money, fistfights and doors ripped off hinges on New Year’s Eve. You had decided years ago that Hallmark channel magic was pure fiction…but sometimes you get glimpses of it now. Thanksgiving dinner in some unceremonious chow hall with Rio and your other friends feels more like a holiday than anything else you’ve ever known. “You still in Africa?”

“It’s Djibouti, Mama, I told you. It’s on the Horn. Across the sea is Yemen and Saudi Arabia.”

“Why can’t they put y’all to work in your own goddamn country?”

“Well, we do that too sometimes.” You stall, listening to her smoking. Rio glances up at you from where he’s still reading on the floor. “They have some incredible beaches here. Yesterday morning we went down to the water and there were all these cute kids playing, and they only spoke French but Rio showed them how to play tic-tac-toe by drawing a board in the sand—”

“I like the beach,” she says, and you know you’ve made a mistake. “You remember that?”

Deflated now: “Yeah, Mama. I remember. Are the boys going to take you to Virginia Beach this summer?”

She scoffs. “We’ll see, but I doubt it. It’s expensive, girl.”

You sigh deeply. Rio was right. I shouldn’t have called. “We talked about this. I need to be saving up to get my own house one day, and my own car, and all those things I’ll need to have a life when I get out of the Navy—”

“And what about my house?!” Mama cries, damn near wails. “I’m gonna lose it! I can’t make the payments!”

You reply calmly: “Mama, that’s your house. That’s your business. And you’ve got more than one kid still living at home long after they’ve turned eighteen, so they need to be the people you’re asking to help, not me.”

“You’re gonna let your Mama be homeless? Is that what you called to tell me on Mother’s Day? What the hell kind of daughter are you?”

“I got out!” you shout into the phone, and Rio is scrambling off the floor to rush to you. “I’m learning things and I’m making money and I’m building schools and hospitals on the other side of the fucking planet, and you can’t be proud of me because you think it means you’ve failed, but the truth is that you could have gotten out too! All of you could have! But you didn’t, it was me, it was just me, and now you hate me for it!”

“You need to come home now,” Mama says. “You gotta take care of me, take care of your Mama. You only got one and she needs you, so you gotta heed me. That’s what’s right.”

“I am not going to spend the rest of my life watching you get wasted in that filthy house, and I’d work where, at the Dollar General? At Arby’s? And get knocked up by the first guy who shows any interest?”

“You’re giving me heart palpitations. I’m gonna have to go to the emergency room and it’s all your fault.”

Rio is whispering into your other ear, one of his massive palms resting on the back of your neck: “Just hang up. It’s not worth it. You can hang up, just hang up…”

“I want things to be normal,” you tell Mama, you plead, tears stinging in your eyes. “I’ve tried so hard to get along with everyone, and help you as much as I can, but no matter what I do it’s not enough, and you’re always mad at me, and you’re always fighting with me—”

“You’re damn right I’m fighting with you, because you’re a spiteful, selfish child.”

“Hang up,” Rio is murmuring. “Hang up, hang up, hang up…”

“Mama,” you say, your voice strangled. “I’m sorry. I have to go now.”

“When I’m homeless, you know you got no one but yourself to blame—”

You hit the red button to end the call, throw your phone down onto the bed, stare at the wall and swallow noisily, choking back sobs. You won’t let yourself cry. You’ve cried enough for them already. You have to keep moving forward. The only way out is through. “You were right,” you say to Rio at last, quiet and raspy. Your hands are trembling. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Hey.” He grabs your face roughly, forces you to look at him with your miserable shimmering eyes, grins hugely. “I’m your mom now, bitch.”

You laugh as tears spill down your cheeks, let him bury you in one of his smothering bear hugs, cling to him like a life raft in a storm.

[wyattjohnston]

can you do “you know, if you moved in we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this.  ” with luke hughes please

hey hey! i've written this because it had been a hot minute since i specified that i don't take requests for players U21 so thats not something you could have known <3

i am taking requests!

You’re used to it by now, the banging and swearing that wakes you up when you stay at Luke’s. Neither he nor Jack are any good at packing for a road trip, so there was a lot of mad rushing when they realise that their clothes are still dirty, or, worse, wet and smelling of mildew because they’d been left in the washing machine for far too long.

It’s a chore to open your eyes, but less so when you’re greeted by Luke standing at the end of his bed. Any happiness you get from seeing him is hampered slightly by him hauling a suitcase onto the mattress and jostling the bed.

“I told you you should have packed last night,” you say, your voice muffled by the pillow.

His head raises just long enough to roll his eyes before his back is turning and he’s pulling blind handfuls from his chest of drawers.

Its so familiar and common, laying in bed while he prepares to leave—for a road trip or practice, it was the same—that you don’t even try to fight the sleep that takes you back under.

Time escapes you, and you’re roused again by a hand on your shoulder and Luke’s directly in your ear. He’s not even trying to be quiet; you’ve come to expect nothing less.

“It’s go time,” he tells you, causing an annoyed groan to rip from your mouth.

The plan is, as always, that they will drop you at your place on their way to the airport. It means that you don’t have to change out of Luke’s shirt, just that you begrudgingly roll out of bed to find a pair of sweatpants.

“You know,” Luke says thoughtfully as he watches you rummage through his already ransacked drawers, “if you moved in, we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this.”

With your head on a swivel, you face him just to give him the most disbelieving look you can muster. You almost scoff, “Its too early for you to be that unserious.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Can you be serious about it when you get back?” you ask, cautious. “That’s like… a really big thing, Luke.”

“I’m gonna be serious about it for a long time. We can talk about it whenever.”

[awzominator]

may I offer u some low quality Rasey in these trying times

Senseless rambling under the cut don’t mind me

I’m stuck in how I want these two’s relationship to go Bc I love rasey but also I love Ramona and both are def gonna happen Bc it’s my AU and what I say goes HOWEVER…..I’m bad at writing and plotting and I’m second guessing everything I come up with snsnsnjs

as of right now Raph/Casey are dating in their teens Raph (and his bros and karai) go missing for like 2ish years and are presumed dead (rip) Casey obvi super distraught and spirals; he struggles and gets super reckless with his life and all that jazz (Bc he’s so well adjusted) anyway I took a lot of inspo from mirage plot line and brought Gabrielle into the mix. In this instead of her lover not being in the picture they just died and I wanted Casey to bond w her thru that and learn how to cope w the death of loved ones and move on even if the pain is still there My dumb of ass however, keeps getting hung up on how it’ll all work out cuz is two years too short for all this to happen???? But also it’s not real and it doesn’t really matter… Casey/Gabe relationship would still be new when Raph gets back (surprise not dead) and idk if I’d want to break them up Bc yay angst but also would Casey really just leave Raph hanging????? ((This is also if I still keep Casey in New York City and not make him have a crisis and road trip like in mirage djsjjsjs))

Raph would prob see how happy Casey is and prob like step back and let him have that relationship all while yearning for what they once had Bc the scariest part is him realizing how Casey has changed ((but so has he hasn’t he?? After everything he just went they and saw it was blink of an eye for him but it felt like a life time)) at the core they’re both the same ppl but they’re not 16/17 anymore…

So the Raph/Mona happens in their young adulthood once the gang goes to space a second time due to Kraang ((shocker))

like it could work but like….does it all sound stupid???? Probably but I It’s what I’ve got as of right now! I don’t do romantic relationships and frankly my experience of lost friendships is just Bc we grew apart and they stopped responding ((or Bc I found out they were racist and I cut them out djsjsjjs)))