#On the bright side I'm wearing semi-clean clothes this time

[eebooduh]

I am so sick and tired of my brain not working. Like something is mentally wrong with me. I CANNOT FUNCTION ANYMORE AND I AM SICK OF IT. I don't have the money to get any sort of help or assessment because it's either do that or be able to afford tuition in the coming year, and my insurance won't cover anything. And I am just. so. sick. of. it. I am tired. I am so so tired of trying to make things work and having no fucking clue how and being so out of control.

[baybee45]

Oblivious

A/N: Commander Cody!Medic/clueless reader

Semi based on real life mostly the the parts of being oblivious and wanting to drop kick people. Hope you enjoy.

Warning: Hopefully a bit of an emotionally roller coaster. It’s pretty fluffy y’all.

“Hey” you look up from your paperwork, giving your Commander a nod of acknowledgement. “Would you be interested in going to 79’s? Uhh...Some of the boys and I were going to hangout there.”

“Tonight?” you asked absentmindedly, still thumbing your way through the medical records.

“Uh, yes” he stuttered, swallowing hard to try and clear his throat. You put down your paperwork and notice that he is a bit unsteady on his feet. Without thinking you reach your hand out to check his temperature.

“Are you feeling alright?” Leaning into your touch he replies only with a tittering laugh and his small but warm smile. “Usually I’m the one forcing you to take a break.” You joked, he didn’t appear to have a fever. Giving your Commander a big grin, “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”

Back at your small apartment you’re running a bit behind, mostly due to the fact that you have nothing to wear. Well not exactly nothing, you had your civvie clothes but the boys only have military fatigues and you don’t feel like standing out. So your problem was this; the only clean uniform you had left since your return from the front, was your skirt ensemble and you hadn’t seen that since you were first accepted into the GAR.

“If only I had a bit more of a warning about this outing. My pants would have been pressed and ready to go.” You moaned digging your way to the back of your closet. Finally locating the skirt, you just needed to find some decent shoes. You settled on your go-to matte black pumps, they weren’t too high but high enough to add a nice touch to the outfit. You rush down to street level hailing an Air Taxi, hoping the boys won’t be to far ahead of you.

Finally reaching 79’s you enter the bar, the smell of a good night and rough morning hits you hard. Scanning through the familiar faces of the crowd, you eventually see Waxer waving frantically to get your attention. Cody smiles and gives you a small wave as well and you return the gesture and make your way to their booth. The booth had enough room for the six us but the boys seemed to be squished together at the one end. Leaving a wide opening at the other end next to the Commander.

“Sorry I’m late.” You apologize as you sit down. Everyone appears to simultaneously exhale, spreading out a bit after you take your place next to him. Grinning, he pushes a bright blue beverage with an assortment of fruit on its rim towards you.

“I took the liberty to order you a drink.” Humming in appreciation you take a sip and nod your head in approval.

“You look...pretty tonight.” Commented Boil. “Don’t say it like that! Makes it sound like she never looks pretty.” Elbowed Waxer. You let out a small laugh.

“Your the best Waxer always looking out for me, but its been, what, like six month now? I think I have been around Boil long enough now, to understand what he trying to say, most of the time that is.” You said giving the group a knowing look.

“See!” You heard Boil mumble to his brother, who shook his head. “She’s just being nice.”

“So what were you guys talking about before I came?” The feeling at the table changes drastically. Boil nervously shifts in his spot, Wooley is looking at a very interesting speck on the table, Waxer and Longshot are wide eyeing their Commander. You’d have thought you just asked the boys to shoot their Jedi General with the uneasy glances they were covertly giving you.

“We were just taking about the Ryloth campaign.” Cody remarked like nothing was amiss.

“Ah,” that was a couple month before you joined the GAR you thought. “Well don’t stop on my account, I always love to hear about your adventures.”

Cody grins like a proud ori’vod at his brothers retelling of the Campaign, making only a few correction here and there. Then somewhere between Waxer and Boil finding young Twi’lek girl named Numa and them almost being devoured by some Gutkurrs, the Commanders hand grazes your leg. Your eyes quickly dart down at the sensation. Warm tendrils spread throughout your body. Whidding through you and unearthing a thought, a feeling, you had long ago buried. You quickly push it out, like the unrequited and unwelcome visitor that it is. The boys have always been touch starved and with the added catalyst of alcohol, this wasn't something to be unexpected, just a bit unusual.

This accidentally graze turns into mindless tapping, a slight tick that you had never notice him have before. Eventually his hand is spread wide over your knee, his palm lazily raising and falling to the beat of the story, until it wasn’t. His hand lays idly across your leg, encasing your knee. An overwhelming feeling is starting to seep through, beginning to cloud your judgment.

You wanted to drop-kick the man. Even after all these years, your knee is still uncomfortable sensitive to touch after your surgery. Of course he didn’t know that, so you tried to change the position of his hand ever so slightly. He looks to his other side giving your leg a light squeeze, you wonder just how long they waited for your arrival and how many drinks they downed beforehand for him to be so ‘touchy’. He didn’t look inebriated but you also knew most of the men could hold their alcohol well. It’s not like you minded, just was wondering.

With an amused grin still on his face, Cody endeavours to referee the petty argument that has erupted between Boil and Wooley as of who was closer to being devoured by a Gutkurr.

“I felt the breathe of the kriffin’ beast on the back of my neck before I was able to narrowly escape, jumpin’ down the hidden passageway!”

“Yeah well, I had the things jaw inches away from me, so close that its breath fogged up my visor!”

“You both looked death in the face and survived , its not something new for us clones.” Interceded Cody.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m happy that the Gutkurrs didn’t eat you... Wooley.” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Boil as you reached across the table to give Wooley a comforting pat on the hand.

“Yeah well, Wooley would have probably given the poor Gutkurrs an awful hairball.” Retorted Boil with mischievous smirk.

“Hay!”

You start sliding out of the booth and feel the Commanders touch tighten ever so slightly around your leg. “Everyone down for another round?" With your question his hold releases. You blame tingling sensation coursing through you, on your emptied drink already taking affect.

"Do you need some assistance?" 

"No, no Commander you can relax, I got th—" your voice raises an octave as your foot catches something, for a brief moment wondering if you’ve really only had one drink. Luckily Cody was near enough to catch your flailing hand. 

"You sure?" he teased, his touch lingering a moment longer then necessary.

"Yes, I was just testing your reaction time, above average sir." You laughed, trying to gain some composer over your mounting embarrassment. "No worries men, your drinks will be safe in these hands." 

    Dusting the embarrassment off your skirt you embark on your mission, weaving your way through the crowd and making it to the bar in one piece. Placing your order, you decide to reorder that blue concoction the Commander got you. He knew you had a sweet tooth but also like a good tartness to balance things out and you honestly couldn't have chosen a more perfect drink. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better then you did yourself.

“But thats his job isn't? Being Marshall Commander he needs to know his troops.” You speciously reasoned to yourself waiting for your order.

******

“It looks like its going well Commander.” Commented Wooley from across the table. Cody doesn’t respond, his eyes still haven’t left you. Admiring you from a far as you place the order at the bar. He inhales deeply. Reminiscing all the little moments he has shared with you so far.

“What do ya think?” Questioned Longshot. “Like how do you think everything is going so far?” Cody turns his attention back to his brothers, mulling over the question for a moment.

“Good, I think... I mean we haven't really talked much. Just taking things slow...nothing too upfront and obvious. I'm being subtle but she seems very... reseptive...”

“Wow! You’re really struggling.” Wooley states. “Yeah I’ve never seen the Commander so unsure of himself.” Boil pipes in with a wide grin.

They all laugh at their ori’vod and Waxers gives him a a light punch in the shoulder. Cody gives a Commanders’ glare and they immediately stiffen, remembering he has the power to assign them to polish astromech units for the next week in retaliation. Cutting the silence Boil wonders out loud

“Does she know that this is a date? Or does she just think we are all hanging out?” Cody doesn't have time to respond as you make your way back to the table drinks in hand.

******

Taking a few sips of your drink you maneuver through the crowd with relative ease. Making it safely back to your booth, you place the drinks on the table.

“See boys! Safe in these hands.” you giggled with one hand on your hip and the other doing a ‘jazz hand’. The Commander chuckles and gives you smile could light up the whole of Coruscant. You loved h—....You liked seeing him smile and happy like this.

“ I always feel—“ Codys’ remark is cut short when you feel a light tap of a gloved finger on your shoulder. “Kix!” you squeal jumping into the troopers arms, he lifts you off the ground slightly swinging you back and forth. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing great!”

“Do you wanna dance?” 

“Uh, yes of course.” Not that it would have mattered what you said. Kix barely gives you enough time to respond before he is pulling you away.

"I guess that answers my question." You caught Boil saying as Kix guides you towards the dance floor.

Swaying distractedly to the music you and Kix play catch up. You wished the hands of time didn’t move so fast. You remember like it was yesterday when you first got accepted and placed on field assignment as a medic, Kix was your mentor. He taught you the difference between hypothetical situation and reality. That what the books taught and what happened in the real world didn't always line up. He was your first and oldest friend in the GAR.

*******

“It's okay Commander...” Waxer let his sentence trail off. Their Commander wasn't saying anything but everything about him said he wasn’t okay.

Cody was lost in his thoughts, replaying the night. Going through and analyzing each moment. Trying to figure out what went wrong. When it went wrong. How he didn’t see this coming. He thought it was going so well. You letting him place a hand on your knee, and then you moved it to rest on your thigh. He replayed the scene again in his head.

You moved it.

“I had to look away so you wouldn't notice me blush.” He thought. “And then that damn skirt, like you didn't know how it was hugging your curves. Isn’t that why you didn't want my help to get the drinks? It was an invitation to watch you. Oh men, did I watch...You were flirting with me weren’t you?” He wonders silently. The Commander looks back to you and notices the blue marking on the troopers armor. This meant that what’s his name.

“Kix!” he practically snarls under his breathe, is part of the 501st. Cody makes a mental note of this. He was going to talk to Rex later about this trooper.

“You know sir, if you want her you have to fight for her." Pointed out Boil “But not really ‘fight, fight’. More Like ask her to dance kind of fight is what Boil is trying to say.” Clarified Waxer.

“Like you’ve said before sir, ‘there is always a way.’” Wooley said giving his Commander a half smile for encouragement and the other all nod their head in agreement. 

Cody balls his hands into a fist and releases them several times. Almost like he is trying to pump the blood for his dying heart. He gulps back his second drink of the night to steady his nerves and finally stands, taking a few tentative steps forward. You had never looked more beautiful. Never looked so happy. Never looked at him like that. He hears you laugh at something the trooper is saying. It cuts through his chest like a blaster bolt.

*******

“Awww Kix! I’m so happy for you, she sounds very nice. You better introduction me to her.” 

“I will, I will.” he promises. You give his neck a loving but firm squeeze to make it clear “I’d prefer sooner rather then later.”

“I will I said! Just gotta make sure she knows she my girlfriend first.”

You laugh and shake your head grinning . Such confident men on a battlefield but most are lost puppies when it comes to human interaction that’s not their brothers. You guess it's a by product of how they have been raised on Kamino.

“It's so good to see you again.” You smile, bringing your focusing back to your friend.

“It is good to see you again, even though I feel like I'm about to get beat up.” 

You scrunch your eyebrows at him and look to your sides. Kix spins you so your facing towards your booth. Your confusion growing more and more. You don't see anything off. No one in particular itching for a fight. The only thing you notice is Cody returning to his seat.

“What are you talking about? Who’s going to beat you up?” You asked puzzled. He ignores your question, opting instead to quickly twirl and then dip you in one fluid motion as the song ends. You give Kix a ‘I’m going see you again soon’ hug and head back to your boys.

“The guys at the 501st miss you, don't be a stranger.” You turn around to face Kix again. “I’d prefer sooner rather then later.” He quips. Half rolling your eyes at him you mouth ‘I promise’. You did miss the boys at the 501st. They definitely kept you on your toes but you enjoy the relative peace and calm of the 212th. They feel like a home away from home.

******

You sense a change as you sit back down. Not sure what it is but definitely a tension in the group now. You assume Boil made and ill advised joke at the expense of one of his brothers. Distracting yourself, you bob your head to the music finishing the last of your cocktail.

“I forgot how much I like to dance.” You said trying fill the quiet that has engulfed the group. “Kix is such a sweetheart. He helped shape me into the medic that I am... And now he has a girlfriend! Hmmm, time is one of those things that never slows down, not stoping for anything.”

“He has a girlfriend?” questions Boil, thankfully stopping you from rambling on any further. All the others were equally interested in this tidbit of gossip, all except the Commander, who seems worn out from his day, with his head slightly bowed and his eyes closed.

“Yeah and she sounds like a sweetheart, I told him that he better introduces me to her soon.”

“Would you like to dance?” Muttered the Commander, his question rushing out like one long word.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun.” you replied catching only the tail end of what he said, completely oblivious to his request.

Waxer nudges his ori’vod softly and he takes a deep breathe to musters up his confidence once more. “Will you dance with me?”

“Yes.” You softly answer without hesitation. Placing his hand on the small of your back he leads you to the dance floor. He tentatively wraps his arm around your waist bringing you in close and as if on cue the music slows and the room seemingly quiets. You look up to meet his gaze. He gives you his small, warm smile, a smile you had seen hundreds of time before. But now? Now it has a hidden meaning. Like secret code that only you have, always had, the key to. Delicately he moves you to the music, holding your hand over his rapidly beating heart.

Your own heart in sync with his.

The feelings you had tried to keep at bay, rush through you with every heighten pump of your heart. Breaking through the barriers you had built like torrent flood waters. Every reason why this can’t work and each regulation you’ve reread is drowned out. This emotion, one that you would not yet dare put a name to, washes over you in pure and beautifully simple waves.

You two are alone in the crowded bar, safely hidden in the privacy of each other eyes. Overcome you kiss Cody. You kiss him and he reciprocates the gesture, tenderly cupping your face deepening the kiss. You are oblivious to four overly enthusiastic troopers cheering in a booth. Oblivious to a 501st medic wondering were his introduction was. You are oblivious to everyone and everything but the man in front of you.

And for a few perfect moments time standstill.

[settersprouts]

꠵ look at me : chapter two ꠵

裏切り。

Iwaizumi flopped onto his bed as soon as he got home, turning over and looking at the ceiling. His family kept bothering him about the match, saying things like "oh, you did great son!" or "it's okay. it's not the end of the world!"

Yeah, sure it wasn't. But it was the end of his and Oikawa's shared dream.

Iwaizumi glanced at the little glow-in-the-dark stars stuck onto his ceiling. He remembered how he got those. Oikawa had put them up when they were younger, since he was afraid of the dark and the nightlight Iwaizumi used to use was way too bright for either of them to sleep. He probably should've taken them down when they didn't really need them anymore, but they meant something to Oikawa back then. Those little stars were one of the many souvenirs Iwaizumi had of his best friend. It was like proof that he was close with the Oikawa Toorū.

. . And Iwaizumi really couldn't take them down. It was physically impossible: the adhesive stuck to the back of the stars were too strong, and no matter how hard Iwaizumi pulled, the damn stars wouldn't come off.

Beep.

Iwaizumi turned to his side, getting his phone from off the nightstand.

New Message : ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽

"Damn, what the hell does this bastard want now?" Iwaizumi clicked on the notification, bringing up the messages between him and Oikawa.

. .

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwa-chan !

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: What now, I just saw you like 20 minutes ago

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: ughh iwa you're so mean

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah okay. What?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: can i come over ?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Ew no, wtf?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwaaaaaaaaaaa~ (｡•́︿•̀｡)

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Why?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: im just having trouble sleeping,, plus i just wanna be with you rn

. .

Iwaizumi blushed at the last text Oikawa had sent. Damn.. As much as I despise him and his stupid face, that was kind of cute. Realizing what kind of thoughts were popping up in his head, Iwaizumi smacked both sides of his face. Fuck. What the hell am I thinking?

. .

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: iwa? you there?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah, I'm here. Shut up. [to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: You can come over. I don't care.

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: yay ! thanks iwa ♡

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Shut up. You sleeping over, or staying for a couple hours?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: can i sleep over?

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Yeah. [to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: My mom's cooking dinner. Want me to save you some?

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: no, i'm not hungry.

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: Alright, I'll save you some. Hurry up before it gets cold.

[from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: i don't want any- yk what nvm [from] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: be there in ten !

[to] ꜱʜɪᴛᴛʏᴋᴀᴡᴀ 👽: mk.

. .

"Hajime! Dinner's ready!" Iwaizumi perked up as he heard his mother calling for him. He answered with a blunt, "Coming ma!," and bolted down the stairs.

"Hey, Oikawa's coming over tonight," Iwaizumi said as he sat down. "Can you save him some food? Knowing him, he probably hasn't eaten since the match."

Mrs. Iwaizumi nodded. "Of course! I'm so glad he's coming over, I love that boy. Such a sweetheart." When Iwaizumi snorted at her comment, she hit him lightly on the back of the head. "Don't do that, Hajime. He's a sweet boy." She spooned some miso soup into a small bowl, passing it to her son. "And don't act like you don't care about him either. I can see right through that little façade of yours."

Iwaizumi groaned and shoved a spoonful of the semi-salty broth into his mouth. "Sure. Do we have any milk bread?"

"No, I do have Kashipan though. They're similar, right?" She passed the buns to Iwaizumi, who shrugged.

"Yeah, sure."

After about fifteen minutes of the Iwaizumi family eating their dinner, they heard a knock at the door. "Ah, that must be Crappykawa."

Iwaizumi's mother glared at him when she heard that. "Hajime, don't call Toorū that. Like I said, he's a sweet boy." She walked over to the front door, fiddling with the locks and swinging it open. "Welcome Toorū- dear god, what happened to you?"

When he heard the shock in his mother's voice, he shoved aside his food and sprinted to the door. Oikawa stood in front of him, wearing a very soiled alien hoodie with the hood up and over his eyes. Iwaizumi could just make out the newly made bruises on his friend's jaw though, and the tear stains on his cheeks. Oikawa sniffled, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. "Um. . can I come in. ?"

Iwaizumi and his mother quickly stood aside, ushering Oikawa into their home. Iwaizumi's mother put a hand on Oikawa's shoulder, not noticing the way the boy had winced at her touch, and steered him into their dining room. "Honey, would you like some food?"

Oikawa sniffled again, nodding. "Yeah. . do you have any milk bread?"

Iwaizumi shook his head. "Not at the moment, I can ask my old man to buy some for you. He's at the market right now." Oikawa nodded in response, and Iwaizumi took out his phone, sending a quick text to his father. "You need to eat right now, though. We have miso and kashipan. Eat some of that before you get your milk bread."

Iwaizumi passed some food over to Oikawa when he sat down. His own food disregarded, he watched as Oikawa ate slowly, taking in all his features. His hood was still up, so he couldn't see the rest of his face, but he could see how much it hurt him to make small, simple movements. Every time he lifted the spoon up to his mouth, his hand shook a little, and he winced occasionally. Something panged inside Iwaizumi's chest as he watched Oikawa eat. His heart hurt a lot, more than usual. What the hell was this feeling?

Oikawa pushed the bowl away from him, messing with the hem of his hoodie again. "Um. . I'm kind of full."

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa's bowl- about a sixth of the soup was missing. Oikawa hadn't even touched the kashipan. "Crappykawa, you need to eat way more than that. You barely touched your food." He was about to force the food down his throat when he noticed his pained expression. "H-hey Oikawa, you alright. ?"

Oikawa gagged, putting a hand over his mouth. "Mrgh. Feel s-sick."

Iwaizumi stood up abruptly, helping Oikawa up and walking him to the bathroom. "How sick?"

"Feel like I'm gonna die, sick." Iwaizumi snickered a little at that, causing a slight smile to erupt on Oikawa's face. "W-wait. Where are we going?"

"Bathroom. You need to clean up." Iwaizumi opened the door and set Oikawa on the toilet, pulling a little first-aid kit out of the cabinet under the sink. Oikawa glanced at it nervously, thinking Iwaizumi was going tend to his wounds. But much to his surprise, Iwaizumi just set the box on the sink counter, and walked out of the room. "I'm going to go get you some of my clothes, and a towel. Set those in the basket, I'll clean them later."

The door clicked, and Oikawa heard Iwaizumi shuffle off to his room. He smiled a little, thankful that his friend respected his boundaries. He heard a knock on the bathroom door, replying with a small "come in." Iwaizumi opened the door, setting a towel and a set of clothes on the counter.

"If you need help with anything, let me know, okay?"

"Mmm." Iwaizumi closed the door when he heard Oikawa's reply, and walked to his room. He sat on his bed, throwing a volleyball up in the air, catching it when it came too close to his face. After a couple minutes, he heard the faint sssshhhhh of the shower faucet being turned on, and the shower curtains closing. Good. At least Crappykawa's cleaning up. He lay still, listening to the shower run, spreading out his arms and legs like a starfish. He must have lost track of time, because when he opened his eyes, Oikawa was sitting at the foot of his bed, scrolling through his phone while drying his hair.

"Crappykawa?" Oikawa turned around quickly, shutting off his phone in the process. Iwaizumi noticed this, but decided not to pry. "I didn't even hear you come in. How long have you been here?"

Oikawa shrugged. "Not long. Maybe like, a couple of minutes?" He resumed to the task of drying his hair, squeezing the water onto the light grey towel.

"Ah, I see." Iwaizumi watched Oikawa, tapping a finger against his chin. "Need help?"

"Um. . sure." His friend scooted closer to him, and handed him the towel. Iwaizumi ruffled up his hair, the towel making it ten times fluffier than it usually was. "Uh. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

Oikawa fumbled with his shirt, it being a too big for him, since he had a leaner build. Iwaizumi thought it was cute. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone, though."

"Yeah, of course."

Oikawa took a deep breath, tears spilling out of his eyes once again. "M-my parents. . I don't feel safe with them. As soon as I got home, they yelled at me a lot because we lost the match. Um. I got mad and screamed at them too, but my dad hit me, and it got all out of control. They just kept hitting me, like I was their punching bag." He sniffed. "It hurt. It hurt a lot, Iwa. I thought they loved me. I thought-"

The third-year setter was cut short by arms being wrapped around his waist. "Shut the hell up, Shittykawa. Don't worry about a damn thing. I'll take care of everything."

"How? You can't do anything, you're not that much older than me and I couldn't even do anything." Oikawa sniffled again. "It's not like anyone would believe me anyways, or even care. A lot of people hate me, Iwa-chan."

"Yeah, well. Those who hate you can go on a date with my fist. They just don't really know who you really are inside. They just know who you want them to see. Some self-centered, cocky, arrogant, stupid bastard." Oikawa let out a little 'hey!' which made Iwaizumi laugh, before continuing. "But, I know who that self-centered, cocky, arrogant, stupid bastard really is on the inside. And it's someone I've grown to admire, no matter how much he pisses me off."

"Awe, Iwaaa~!" Oikawa flung his arms around Iwaizumi, making them fall down onto the bed. "Thank you, that was super sweet~"

Iwaizumi blushed. "N-no problem, Shittykawa. Now, get off of me."

Oikawa bit his lip a little and frowned. "But Iwaa. I thought you said you were going to help make me feel better!" Ignoring Iwaizumi's "when the hell did I say that" comment, he spread out his arms and made little gesturing motions with his hands. "I want cuddles, like the ones we used to give each other when we were younger!"

"Aren't we too old for that now?"

"No one's too old for cuddles, Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi scoffed, turning Oikawa around and spooning him. "There, happy?"

"Mmm." Oikawa responded, intertwining his fingers with Iwaizumi's. "Thanks, Iwa."

". . Shut up."

chapter 3 !

[myheartmightexplode]

As of Now I'm Down Straight Up

by MusicalSense

Summary

"He’s on his back again and this time he’s not looking at the sky; he’s looking right into the surprisingly blue eyes of Bert McCracken who just chokeslammed him into the ground and is now standing above him with his feet planted left and right of Gerard’s hips." Hallelujah.

In this AU Bert and Gerard didn't meet prior to warped tour and neither Three Cheers nor In Love And Death are out yet so technically it should be set in 2003, but like, the timelines don't really matter for this one. Inspired by an interview with MCR where Gerard talked about Bert chokeslamming a kid who got up on stage during their set.

There’s blood in Gerard’s mouth and he’s not sure if it’s his own. He runs the tip of his tongue over his aching front teeth and turns around to see if whoever headbutted him got away unscathed. He definitely felt his teeth slice through… something, which is kind of worrying since they are freakishly small and that means that he had a mouthful of some stranger which is… all a little unsanitary, isn’t it? A guy with a bloody nose bumps into him and Gerard gets a face full of Eau de Sweaty Armpit. He chokes a little and ducks and shoves – his go-to move in the pit – to keep Tall and Sweaty at a safe distance and then brushes his greasy hair out of his face. He’s standing at the edge of the mosh pit at Warped, probably too close to the speakers given his bad ear, but right now he does not care even in the slightest. He can feel each beat of the kick drum resonating in his bones and his heart is racing along with the music as the song crescendos and comes to a crashing, slightly off-key end. He will definitely have to incorporate something like that into their next record, he thinks.

“The next song is called ‘A Box Full Of Sharp Objects’.” Announces Bert McCracken. He looks good today, Gerard thinks. Really good. Sure, he’s just as sweaty as Gerard is, but the way his wet tangled hair looks with the red makeup smudges on his cheek and the manic glint in his eyes… Gerard gulps. Perhaps he does have a thing for boys who look like they would beat him up without hesitating and make out with him afterwards.

“Marry me!” Tall and Sweaty hollers next to him with the fervor and timbre of a frat bro after his sixth bear of the night. Gerard winces. Yeah, his hearing is definitely not going to improve anytime soon. Maybe he should start wearing the second in ear monitor too; he thinks he might be developing a tinnitus.

“Who, me?” Bert asks with wide eyes and an even wider grin on his face. He presses a hand to his chest in mock-surprise. Gerard’s not entirely sure but he thinks Bert’s wearing white nail polish on the left and black on the right hand. He wonders if it’s a Queen reference.

“Fuck yeah!” Tall and Sweaty yells. Gerard twitches. How did that guy even manage to keep his baseball cap in the pit? He’s pretty sure that he himself lost one or two pins and maybe his belt to the crowd.

Bert wags his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that later.” He turns to his bassist and giggles in that weird high pitched way of his. “Looks like I’ve got a date tonight, Jepha.”

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Why can’t Gerard be a sweaty frat bro? Sure, his Gran always told him to worry less and just ask for things because really, what could happen besides him getting rejected? But somehow he didn’t think that her advice would be applicable in this situation and yet… Oh god, she’d be laughing so hard if she could see him right now, thrashing wildly with the crowd at a The Used show mere hours before he had to be on stage himself just because he thought the singer was kind of cute and wanted to check him out live. The band launches into the next song, kicking Gerard back into action. He shakes his head a little and allows himself a small smile. So what if he has a tiny man-crush on another singer, he can still have a good time. He looks around quickly to check for people who look like they wouldn’t appreciate him throwing himself in their midst and when he doesn’t find any, he dives straight back into the pit.

God, he loves this so fucking much. The hot press of bodies around him, the elbows connecting with his ribs, even the feeling of sweaty skin sticking and unsticking from his. For a while he loses himself in the push and pull of it, careful to keep his head down so he doesn’t get hit in the face. Somehow he seems to be just the right height for that, not big enough to really stand his ground and not quite small enough to weave through the crowd like Frank does either. He feels someone pulling on the white stage shirt he’s wearing because it was the only semi-clean thing in his wardrobe after touring for a while. Somehow his stage clothes are always taken care of while his normal t shirts decompose in a smelly pile in a corner of their bus. Right now though, his last good shirt is dotted with small red blood splatters and he briefly worries about the state of his face which seems to be one big dull ache right now. He really hopes that the blood isn’t his; having to sing with a broken nose would suck balls.

His gaze connects with a short-ish dude with a bloody bitemark on his jaw and a bright grin. For a split second Gerard recognizes him as the person whose face he hit his teeth on but then he’s being hoisted up and carried on top of the crowd. He takes in a gasping breath and blinks up at the almost cartoonishly blue sky for a few moments. Sure, he’s crowdsurfed before, but usually inside smaller clubs and never at Warped where the audience looks like a boiling kettle full of rage and drunk scene kids. Maybe he should reconsider though, he thinks idly as he’s being carried away from the pit. Someone’s jewelry catches on his hair and the buttons of his shirt and he tries to keep his feet still so he doesn’t kick anyone in the head and there’s sky around him and the wavelike movement of the crowd under him, and he thinks maybe this is what it feels like to drift in the ocean during a storm, and then he’s being hoisted on stage.

‘Oh fuck’ He thinks. “Oh fuck.” He says. While no one’s technically going to kick him out for it he is technically also not supposed to be here and it’s taken him too long already; he should be jumping back right now; he’s seen other people do it and they always got away with it as long as they didn’t disturb the set, and he turns around and then someone grabs his throat and slams him to the ground and. Holy Shit.

He’s on his back again and this time he’s not looking at the sky; he’s looking right into the surprisingly blue eyes of Bert McCracken who just chokeslammed him into the ground and is now standing above him with his feet planted left and right of Gerard’s hips.

Actually, maybe he hit his head harder than he thought. He’s feeling a little faint right now. Bert’s hand is still around his throat. Gerard tries to swallow and chokes on his spit. He feels his pulse beating away frantically, even faster than the music now, and he wonders if Bert can feel it. The moment seems to stretch like the string of a bow being pulled back and Gerard worries that if he makes one wrong move he’s going to make it snap and hit him in the face.

Fucking hell. He’s going to die here. Above him Bert grins with all of his teeth and mouths along to the final chorus as the crowd goes wild. He locks eyes with Gerard and winks and then he. He licks his hand, from palm to fingertips, and wipes it on Gerard’s face and suddenly he’s painfully hard in his jeans. There’s sweat dripping down from Bert’s hair and his teeth still ache and he still can’t breathe properly and he thinks he just fell in love. He’s dying but man, what a way to go.

Bert, who doesn’t seem to have picked up on Gerard’s epiphany, gets up from his crouch and gets back to performing and after a second Gerard picks himself back up and leaps into the crowd before one of the security guys can usher him down and he still feels like he’s floating.

He doesn’t get back up on stage; it’s not like he could ask Bert for his number in the middle of a concert, right? Right. They’re either going to meet backstage or maybe they’re going to collab or, or, maybe they will never see each other again (‘Shut the fuck up Gerard you’re literally touring together’ His logical side tells him) but even if that’s the case, so what? It’s not like he just met the love of his life or anything. Ha.

He might be panicking a little.

Later that day, before he had time to change out of his blood splattered clothes (He thinks he might just keep them for the show, the red adds a certain element to the whole look…), he’s just wandering around when he comes across one of the billboards showing messages from fans and really just anyone who submits something via text message.

‘MCR rox my soxx’ He reads and smiles. Next up is a longer message. ‘Bleeding dude uknowho I choked meet me @10 bhind mainstg luv bert’.

Oh. Okay then. That’s definitely him, right? Gerard grins and touches the bruises starting to form on his neck. It seems like Bert wasn’t the only one who left an impression.

[the-mykie-show]

After your night with Negan you have to make an important decision, meanwhile your ex struggles to accept that your relationship is over and after he takes things too far Negan comes up with a plan to teach him a lesson once and for all. 

*rating* explicit 

*warnings* rough sex, multiple sex positions, semi public fingering, blow jobs, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kind of stalking. 

In your dazed, half asleep state you almost mistake Negan's arm still wrapped around your waist for your ex's, before memories of last night flood back into your consciousness. You let out a contented sigh, remembering how Negan touched you, the way his tongue felt between your legs, how his cock filled you.

“You awake, darlin’?” he asks, his fingers brush your hair off your neck for him to press a soft kiss under your ear.

“Yeah.” you whisper, rolling over on the plush pillows to face him.

You're both still naked, and you feel the unmistakable ache that only really good sex could leave between your legs.

“You sleep alright?” he asks.

“Like a rock.” you replied.

“Yeah, couple of good orgasms will do that for you” his signature cocky smirk lights up his face.

You smack his shoulder playfully.

“You want to shower before you go?” he asks.

“That would actually be great. You joining?”

“Nah I got some shit to take care of.” Negan shows you to his personal bathroom, it's just as lavish as his bedroom, a large tub sits in one corner, a glass shower stall in the other, with plush black rugs,and matching fluffy towels. You could almost forget the apocalypse even happened in here.

He gives you some shampoo and soap, and leaves you to it.

You notice in the floor length mirror that you have several hickeys on your neck and inner thighs, and a bruise shaped like Negan's fingers on your hip. You don't mind them though.

Once you've showered and wrapped yourself in a towel you leave the bathroom to go find your clothes wherever they were scattered last night. You expect Negan to be long gone, off attending to whatever the Sanctuary needed today, but instead he's waiting for you by the bed. He's already gathered your clothes and put them into a neat pile on end of the bed, next to them however is nice set of lingerie accompanied by a short black dress.

“What's this?” you ask looking between Negan and the dress.

“It's a proposal of sorts. If you want to say no you can, no questions asked, but I was hoping you would be my wife.” you're stunned by him yet again, you thought last night was a one time hookup, you weren't expecting him to ask you to join the six other girls he called his wives, you'd never given if you're opposed to the idea or not any thought. You'd never had reason to having been what you thought was a happy relationship.

“I don't know. Can I think about it?” you ask sheepishly.

“Yeah, of course. Regardless of what you decide, I'd fucking love to have a repeat of last night.” he says, pulling to him and planting a kiss on your lips. It starts to heat up right as someone knocks urgently on his door.

“What the fuck do you want?” he breaks the kiss to shout at the person on the other side of the door.

“We have a problem, sir.” Negan rolls his eyes.

“If you'll excuse me I have some clusterfuck to fix.” he leaves you to make your choice on your own. In the end you decide to keep the back dress but wear your own clothes for now.

You make your way down to the cafeteria for breakfast, loading your plate with your favorites, shooting the grumpy lady in a hairnet who always serves your morning meal a friendly smile which quickly fades once you remember that you no longer have a boyfriend to eat breakfast with.

Your steamy fling with Negan was enough to make you forget all about your lying scumbag of an ex for one night, but now in the cold light of day you're forced to confront the fact that you're alone now.

The little black dress laying upstairs in your room begins to look better and better as you find an empty table and settle in for your morning meal alone. You watch Negan's wives as you eat, they've always intimidated you since you arrived at the Sanctuary, but watching them now they seem nice enough. You watch as a pretty redhead throws a rolled up napkin at a tall dark skinned women sitting across from her and all the girls laughed together.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an unfortunately familiar voice “Y/N! I've been looking all over for you all night. Where were you?” your ex stands in front of you.

“None of your business.” you snap.

“Come on, don't do this babe. I made a mistake, and I'm so sorry. Can you please give me another chance?” he pleads.

“No. You can go fuck yourself.” you take an angry bite of your breakfast not even bothering to look at him.

“Are those hickeys? Are you already fucking someone else?” he's angry now, he grabs your arm yanking you to face him suddenly.

“Who the fuck is he? You little whore getting with another guy the night you break up with me!” his grip on your arm gets bruising tight on your arm.

“I broke up with you because you cheated on me you stupid prick!” you try to jerk your arm away from him but he won't let you go. You start to get a little scared.

“You're hurting me, let me go.” he does, but you're certain it's only because people are starting to stare.

You feel sick to your stomach, you don't even want your breakfast anymore.

You managed to make it through the rest of the day without another run-in with your ex, you do run into Negan a few times but he doesn't ask if you've made a decision yet, just shoots you a knowing smirk and winks at you on his way by.

That night when you go back to your room you notice a small wicker basket by your door, it's filled with fresh wild flowers, a stuffed animal, and a bottle of wine that someone had to have spent a shit ton of their points on. At first it makes you smile, you think it must be from Negan, an attempt to win you over and get to say yes to being his wife no doubt. Then you see the card attached to the basket and realize it's from your ex.

“I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I need you. I love you.”

You stuff the stupid note back into the basket and shove it aside.

You don't care if he spent all his points on this apology basket, you don't care how much he wants you back, it isn't gonna happen.

The next morning there is yet another basket outside your door, this time with chocolates, a heart shaped necklace, and a bottle of whiskey.

After lunch another one arrives. At this point you start to fear that your ex is turning into a stalker, and people on your hall are starting to notice the heap of gifts outside your door, you hope someone will steal them so that you don't have to deal with them, but Negan has rules against such things that he enforces harshly when necessary so no one dares to.

That night when you returned to your room your door is unlocked. You know you locked it, your heart beats violently with fear, but you open the door anyway, your hand wrapping the knife at your hip.

You recognize the figure standing at the end of your bed seconds before you stab him. It's your ex.

“What are you doing in my room you psycho?!” you yell at him, flipping on the light, still branching your knife. You notice that he's spread rose petals around the room, as if a sappy romantic gesture was enough to win you back.

“I came to prepare a romantic evening for us.” he says, turning around slowly “Instead I found this.” he holds up the black dress Negan gave you.

“So you fucked Negan huh? And he asked you to join his little whore house. Can't say I'm surprised, that is his MO. Just like he did to Dwight. You gonna have him burn my face off too?” he laughs bitterly. “Just at least answer me this. Did you sleep with him when we were together?”

“No of course not. I was loyal to you, even though you cheated on me, lied to me, ignored me, treated me like shit. I was loyal. That night was the first time I've slept with anyone that wasn't you in years. In fact it'd been so long I'd forgotten sex is actually supposed to feel good until Negan.” you know you're playing with fire but you just can't help yourself.

“Come on Y/N you can't possibly mean that. We had good sex, you loved me. It's not too late, we can still get it all back.” he's pleading with you again, desperation in his eyes.

“I don't want it back. I don't want you back.” you say matter of factly.

“Please don't say that Y/N! I love you, I need you back.” you shake your head gesturing to the open door.

“I said no, now take your shit and get out of my room.”

“It's our room. Please just let me make it up to you. I could fuck you so much better than him.”

“No you really can't, not that it would matter if you could because we're over, and tonight I'm saying yes to Negan.” you hadn't even completely made up your mind about Negan's proposal until that moment but you know you're making the right decision.

“No! You can't, you belong to me, you're my girl.”

“I don't belong to anyone, I'm a person you shit head! Not a piece of property. But tonight I will be a married woman and you're going to have to accept that.” his eyes burn bright with anger, and for a moment you fear you're going to have to use your knife, lucky for you your neighbor across the hall, a sweet older lady who works in the gardens, comes home at the right moment.

“Are you okay, dear?” she asks, poking her head into your room. Your ex shoots you a dirty look and throws the black dress at you on his way out with a growl of “This isn't over.”.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you assure your neighbor before closing the door and going to work cleaning up the rose petals all over your room.

It takes forever to get them put into a pile on the floor, and before you can finish you hear a knock on the door. You freeze, you fear its your ex back to harass you more, but then Negan's voice speaks from the other side of the door.

“You in there babygirl?” you open the door, he sees you're wearing the little black dress and grins from ear to ear.

“You're saying yes?” he asks.

“Yes.” you returned his grin and he yanks you into a tight hug and presses his lips against yours in deep kiss. When you both come up for air he sees the mess of petals and gifts spread around your room.

“What's all this shit?” he gestures to the room with a leather clad hand.

“What do you think?” you sigh “my ex wants me back. He's trying very hard.”

“Of fucking course he does, you're a goddamn catch.” he smirks, playfully slapping you on the ass.

“Yeah, well he should have thought about how much he loved me before he did what he did.” you shake your head with disappointment.

“Yeah, he sure as shit should have. Do you want me to talk to him?” Negan offers, picking up the bottle of wine the idiot had left and examining it.

“I think that might make it worse, he thinks I belong to him.” Negan places the bottle down with the rest of the unwanted gifts and pulls you to him, his gloved hand sweeping your hair back to press his lips against your ear.

“Well then, maybe we just need to show that little prick who you really belong to.” he nips your ear lobe and your knees go weak.

Negan explains the rest of his plan, all while letting his hands wander all over your body, gently kneading your breasts, and eventually working your dress up over your ass, feeling you up and admiring the way your ass looks in the lingerie he gave you all the while.

You're unsure about his plan, you worry it will make the situation worse, not to mention it's a little intrusive and awkward, but in the end you decide to trust Negan.

You wait in Negan's office with him while he sends a Savior to find your ex, “you look nervous. Don't be,” he reassures you “it's not like this is anything either of us hasn't seen before.”

“I know, it's just I feel weird about this.” you admit.

“You don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can call it off.” you knew Negan would let you stop this whole thing on a moment's notice with no questions asked, that was a big part of why you trusted him with this. If anyone else had suggested this idea to you, you would have laughed in their face and told them to go fuck themselves. But this was Negan.

“No, let's do it.” you say.

Negan lifts you onto his desk, standing between your legs, he pulls you into a kiss that starts soft but soon turns rough, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the ache between your legs already stirring up again.

His lips move to your neck, “You sure you're good with this? You feel a little tense.”he says against your skin.

“Yeah, I'm just nervous, what he reacts violently?” he keeps kissing your neck, softly sucking in the sensitive spots, and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk.

“Do you realize who you're talking to?” he asks “He wouldn't dare. Now spread your legs for me, baby.” you do as he asks, opening your legs to reveal your bare sex, this plan requiring you to take off the lace panties.

He presses two fingers to your lips, “Get em nice and wet,”

you take them in your mouth and suck on them softly, wetting them so they'll slide inside you easier.

“Damn I can't wait to feel that mouth around my cock.” he groans pulling his fingers from between your lips and sliding them between your thighs, you feel them press against your already wet entrance.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod. His fingers fill you all at once in one smooth flick of his wrist, your thighs clamping around his hand.

He easily finds your sweet spot and slowly drags the pads of his fingers against it, your body clenching around him. Footsteps approach outside the door and his fingers still inside you, giving you the chance to change your mind. But you shake your head.

“Good girl, let me feel that tight little pussy come.” you can't hold in the moan when the heel of his hand rubs against your clit at the same time his fingers rub something deep inside you.

The Savior Negan had sent to get your ex knocked on his office door, you fidget nervously as Negan orders them to come in, his fingers still buried deep inside you.

You feel your ex’s shocked stare as realizes what Negan is doing to you. Negan holds up his unoccupied hand, signaling him to wait.

“C'mon baby, I know you like it when I fuck you real slow, but I got business to attend to.” his fingers feel so good inside you it isn't even awkward, you hands involuntarily grip his shoulders, moans falling from your lips as he makes you come. Your core tightening around him as you come, a warm wet rush coating his fingers in the evidence of just how good he made you feel.

You lean back on your elbows on his desk, feeling drunk on pleasure despite your ex standing there dumbfounded by what he'd just witnessed.

Negan turns to face him, licking the arousal and come from his fingers.

“Sorry about that, man.” he says with a smirk “gotta keep my girl satisfied, not that you'd probably know anything about pleasuring a woman” he laughed.

“What the hell is this?” your ex says. “I thought you wanted to talk to me?” he's pushing his luck with Negan.

“I sure as shit do. You got any ideas why that might be?”

“Not really, but is guess it has something to do with her?” he looks at you with disdain in his eyes, maybe even disgust.

“Well looks like you're not as big of a dumbass as I thought, because you are right. My wife here tells me you won't accept that she's over your ass and leave her alone.” his eyes dance between you and Negan, looking rather afraid now.  He knows he should be nervous, even if you weren't Negan's newest wife he wouldn't take kindly to a man harassing, borderline stalking a women. He probably thinks Negan has a much more severe punishment in mind, like the iron or the cells, or maybe even the fence.

“It's not like that…” he stammers “it's just… I.. I wanted to apologize and ask for her back. I wasn't gonna hurt her!”

“The thing is you already did apologize and ask for her back. It became concerning after you grabbed her and screamed at her in the cafeteria, and it became creepy after you you broke into her room. I'm not going to ask you to justify your shit ass choices, but I am going to have to insist that you apologize to the lady and swear on your nutsack this shit won't happen again.” Negan explains.

“I did nothing wrong, in fact that little whore should be thankful someone even wants that used up cunt enough to fight for her at all.” his words feel like a slap in the face, how could he say that about you? You thought he cared about you at least a little even after everything he did to hurt you.

Negan's whole demeanor changes, his eyes becoming dark and cold, almost murderous.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he growls, and before you know what's happening your ex is thrown against the wall and Negan's hands are around his throat.

“You don't fucking talk about my woman like that, you hear me you little fucker?” your ex struggles to breath, trying to push Negan off him. Negan doesn't budge until his face turns blue, finally letting him go and throwing him to the floor.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything Y/N! ”

“And?” Negan growls.

“And it won't happen again, I'll leave you alone.” he looks almost in tears.

“Good, now get your ass out of my sight.” he scrambles to his feet and hurries from Negan's office.

“You okay babygirl?” he asks once the office door slams behind your ex.

“Yeah, I just feel like an idiot.” you stare down at your feet in shame.

“You're not an idiot, baby.” he wraps his arms around you. “and you aren't a whore either. You can't let that shit get to you, he's just an asshole who didn't see what a beautiful, smart amazing woman he had, not to mention hot as fuck and awesome in bed.”

You smile a little at his words. “I'm pretty sure you don't hear this often enough, but you're a good guy, Negan.” you pull him down into a kiss, which he gladly reciprocates. “now why don't we finish what you started?”

“That's my dirty girl,” he smirks. “How about you get down on your knees for me?”

You gladly drop to your knees, reaching up to open his pants and pulling them down his legs with his boxers all at once, his manhood already hard. Staring up at him with the most innocent, doe eyed expression you can muster, you grip him by the hilt, you pop his tip in your mouth, sucking on it and curling your tongue around it, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Damn baby!” he groans. You can already taste his precome, so you tongue his slit making his hips involuntarily twitch and slide his cock against the back of your throat. You gag a little, not expecting the sudden thrust.

“Sorry sweetheart, I just couldn't help myself. You don't gotta deep throat me if you don't want to, this feels fucking amazing on its own.” you respond by slowly swallowing him all the way until you feel his tip at the back of your throat, you somehow managed to swallow him almost all the way to his balls, not leaving much of his shaft for you to stroke so instead you cup his balls kneading them while you suck. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and he lets out a deep moan.

Slowly pulling off, you suck his tip a little harder this time and then swallow him “Shit baby,” he groans “keep sucking my cock like that and you're gonna be my fuckin’ favorite in no time.” his hand twists in your hair, pulling gently as you bob your head up and down on his shaft. “Oh fuck yeah, just like that.” you feel his balls tense in your hand before he even warns you that he's going to come. You heed his warning by sucking his tip while he comes with a load groan. You swallow as much as you can before letting his half soft member slip from between your lips.

“That's my good girl.” his hand strokes your hair “Now that I've made that pretty little mouth mine, why don't you go bend over my desk and let me take you from behind?”

You stand up, and bend over his desk like he asked, he comes up behind you, his hand pressing your top half down while the other pushes your dress over the curve of your ass exposing you to him.

“You loved coming on my fingers in front of that prick didn't you?” his hand dipped between your legs.

“Yes.” you moan, admitting the truth that you'd gotten off on Negan pleasuring you in front of your ex, showing him how a real man gave a woman pleasure.

His fingers find your core, easily sliding inside you.

“Oh darlin’ you're fucking soaked. Did sucking me off get you this wet?” you nod.

He's already hard again and lining himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing into you.

“Ready babygirl?” he asks.

“Yes.” you moan. Your voice is so full of lust you barely recognize it as your own.

He enters you with one hard but smooth thrust, your body spasming around him as he lets you adjust to his size. At this angle it's even more obvious that he's a lot bigger than you're used to, once you're adjusted to the feeling of being filled so deeply you push your ass against his hips, pressing his cock deeper inside you.

Once he knows you're ready you feel him withdraw slightly and snap his hips forward with enough force to shake the desk, the angle is perfect, each thrust hitting that little spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

“You like that baby? You like my cock filling you up?” he thrusts roughly again. You'd never liked rough sex before Negan, but now it felt amazing, you figure maybe you'd just never had it done right before Negan.

“Harder.” you found yourself moaning the command after a few more rough thrusts, even Negan seems surprised by it, but he does it anyway. The force of his thrusts rattle the whole desk, knocking a lamp over and sending some books crashing to the floor.

You feel your core tightening with your building orgasm, each thrust increasing the intensity, and making your walls squeeze him.

“Damn you're so fucking tight.” he groaned.

“You gonna come for me… again.” you can practically feel the smirk in his voice, and I want to say something snide back, but then his hand reaches around, his fingers finding you clit. He teases the sensitive bundle of nerves with a maddeningly light touch, the complete opposite of his rough, hard thrusts.

You feel your walls start to flutter and throb around him, your orgasm finally over taking you, he drags your pleasure out with slow but hard and deep thrusts, his fingers still working your over stimulated clit, while your toes curl in your shoes and your hands hang onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

Your core is still spasming with aftershocks of your orgasm when Negan finds his release, his body going rigid behind you as you feel him spill inside you. He keeps thrusting as hard as he can until he's spent himself completely and his cock starts to soften.

In one dizzying movement he pulls out and turns you around to face him.

“Fuck, I am a lucky man! I'm glad you said yes, babygirl.” he kisses you, this time it's soft and lazy. And you've never felt more content than you do in his arms, that somehow still pleasurable freshly fucked ache deep inside you and his come on your thighs.

[amwritesstuff]

Burning for You (Midoriya/Reader)

All you wanted to do was go home, have a little glass of wine, pass out, and not get up until well into the afternoon. You figured that was fine. You weren't asking for much, surely you'd be allowed that simple want?

A double shift on your feet was rewarded with nearly the whole bottle. More than what you had planned, but you didn't have plans for tomorrow, so whatever. Pleasantly buzzed, bordering on drunk, you stumbled into bed, konking out before you fully hit the mattress.

Suffice to say, this would lead to being the biggest mistake you would ever make.

The dull, painful beat in your head is what woke you. Your taste came next, grimacing at the mix of morning breath and dry bile. You must have vomited in your mouth just a little, not feeling any crusty chunks, nor smell the sourness. But, there was another smell, much stronger...

Smoke.

You inhaled sharply as your body kicked you awake, regretting it instantly as you were sent into a violent coughing fit. You couldn't get enough clean air in to stop. You grabbed a pillow, shoving your face into it in an attempt to stop. You were able to get enough control to take everything in.

Early afternoon sun filtered from your window, making odd shapes in the thick, black smoke that was wafting through your bedroom. It was exceptionally warmer. But where was it coming from?

Confusion gripped you. What had happened? What was happening? How long had this been going on? Did anyone else know? You needed to get out, you knew you did and you wanted nothing more than to flee. You couldn't move though, breathing hard into your pillow to get oxygen that wasn’t there.

A long creaking from above startled you to drop the pillow, gasping in fright, in turn triggering you to once again try and hack up a lung. Another sound caught your attention as you used your hands to cover your nose and mouth. From the window. Shouts. Screams. Sirens. Help.

You needed help. They needed to know you were there. You took a step forward, jumping back when the groaning creak sounded again. Louder this time. You couldn't tell if the ceiling was bowing or the heat was playing tricks.

You needed to get out. Trying to call for help might take too long when you could at least start to pull yourself out of the heat through the fire escape or into the outside hallway. Luckily, your bedroom door was left open so you could easily tell if it was safe to proceed. It seemed the fire was coming from the apartment above yours.

The rest of your home was full of smoke, wisps of flames were licking along the ceiling here and there. They were more prominent toward the front door. Alright, escape down the stairwell wasn't happening. How much had this spread? Did your alcohol-induced slumber really keep you from waking sooner?

Intense snapping from behind caused you to spin around. You yelped, watching the above floor collapse into your bedroom. Intense heat rushed over you, embers quickly growing as they lapped up your untouched furniture.

You stood there dumbly, watching as your home was burned away. Everything you had, gone in a matter of seconds.

A loud creak from above pulled you out of your pity-party. What the hell were you doing? Your life was on the fucking line and you were crying over some clothes. You could do that later. Right now, the fire escape.

You stumbled to the window, coughing and wheezing. You flung the little tabs that sat under it out of the way and began working to open it. Easier said than done with your shaking. You couldn't muster enough strength. Why? It was a window. Had you missed a latch?

It was painted shut.

God damn, fucking, lazy-ass maintenance!

You were going to make the biggest complaint when you got out. You grabbed a hefty ornament from your shelf and chunked it, the glass easily breaking. You didn't get the chance to break it any farther, the groaning and snapping above caused you to look up. Fire was waving over the bending ceiling, cracks quickly growing.

You lunged back, the mess just missing you, but effectively blocking your exit. You didn't get the time to stand. The apartment had only paused in its collapse, the rest of it catching you off guard long enough to fall onto you.

Wood, smoke, ash, and who knows what else filled your lungs as beams and piping caged you in. What little air you had left was knocked from you as what you thought was a couch landed on your legs and lower back. You felt something crack. Chunks of concrete landed heavily around you, smaller bits bouncing off your arms that encircled your head. One large piece hit the floor a little too close for comfort before gravity pulled it down on top of you. The fire hadn't yet reached you, but the heat was enough to scorch your skin.

The panic that had been slowly building was now spiraling out of control, coupled with your adrenalin, keeping you from feeling too much of the excruciating pain your body was in. You were sobbing as much as your clogged lungs would allow. There were no tears, the heat eating them up before they could form. You were trapped. You didn't know if anyone knew you were here. You would die here.

I'm scared!

Flashes of the night before came to your mind. Then the previous day. Then week. Your life played out in reverse as the ever growing flames nipped at your feet. Your family. Your friends. Coworkers. Acquaintances. People you hated. People you admired. Accomplishments you'd achieved. Goals you'd never reach. Dreams you'd never have again.

Please…

Through your fading vision, you could see your front door. It was missing. A figure was in its place, their bright green standing out almost blindingly among the red. Your brain couldn't quite piece together that it was a person until they moved inside… You recognized that green.

I'm here! Here! Right here! Please!

He frantically moved in and out of your vision several times, muffled shouts reaching your cotton filled ears. He couldn't see you and you couldn't make any noise loud enough for him to hear. Not even a cough. But maybe…

Your arms were still around your head, one stuck against the concrete pressing on you, but the other was only slightly wedged. If you wiggled it just enough you could maybe- there! It pulled free, flopping to the ground before you, your hand hopefully in full view.

That was it. That was all you could do. There was an intense, stinging pain at your side that was quickly trailing up your screaming back. You couldn't feel your legs anymore. Your breath was so shallow, body not having the strength to cough anymore. You were so exhausted…

***

You didn't wake slowly. Nor did you jolt awake. You just… woke up.

Your head rolled against something soft, peeling your eyes open to hazy objects against white. Lights were off but it wasn't really dark. A steady beep echoed from far away. You felt sluggish and heavy, your thoughts trudging through molasses as you tried to take everything in. There was mild soreness that pulsed through your whole being. You wanted to go back to sleep.

A click sound found its way to you. You lolled your head toward it, catching a green blur slowly making its way to you. You blinked in a desperate attempt to clear your vision as it lowered itself into what you thought might have been a chair. Garbled noises slurred together as you stupidly stared at the moving mouth… This was a person.

They stood again suddenly, you moving your head to try to keep up. They sat back down just as quickly. It made your head spin.

All at once you felt awful. You groaned as the soreness you felt escalated exponentially. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to understand why your skin felt like it was on fire.

Because it had been on fire.

Your head didn't feel entirely clear, but it was enough to remember your apartment had burned down with you inside it. To realize you were in a hospital. To see that Pro Hero Deku sitting right next to you.

Despite being more coherent, you still gaped stupidly at his nervous grin. You blinked, only realizing that he had been talking to you.

“S-sorr-” you were launched into a very painful coughing fit, sending every fiber in your body into uncomfortable spasms. A straw came into view when you had calmed enough, taking it into your mouth without thinking beyond wanting it to stop.

When the lukewarm water had soothed your throat enough did your position click. Pro Hero Deku was holding the cup and straw for you, looking adorably flustered. If you were embarrassed no one would be able to tell from the heat of your burns. Yourself included.

“S-sorry!” He stuttered out, placing the cup to the side. “Don't try to talk right now, okay? O-or move!” He attempted to push you back down as gently as he could. You didn't fight it. You were too weak to even get up on your elbows. He instead raised your bed a little so that you were semi-sitting up. You tried to give him a smile in thanks, only to wince. That hurt too. How badly injured were you?

Deku settled, looking upset. He held your tired gaze for a moment, the only sound being the heart monitor and your shallow breathing. He dropped his head, gripping the sheets tightly.

“I'm… I'm sorry.”

He was sorry? For what? If you recalled, he had saved you. If anything, you should be groveling in thanks! Or at least be able to verbally apologize for not being physically able to. Slowly, you nudge your hand to his, lightly tapping your finger against his knuckle. God, even that little movement was tiring and uncomfortable. He looked up to find your eyebrows furrowed as much as they were able to be in confusion. He sighed and looked away, running his hand through his hair, little bits of stuff flying off.

...Ash. Ash and rubble bits. You just noticed. He was covered in it. His costume also looked a little worse for wear. Had he really been here all this time? How long had it been since he pulled you out of the building? Was anyone else hurt? And, not that you were complaining, why was he allowed to walk around the hospital like this?

“We thought…” his soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “I thought we had gotten everyone. The apartment two floors above where I found you… A little girl had manifested her quirk and it scared her. The fire spread a lot quicker then if it had been caused by anything else.” He swallowed hard, his hair was blocking his eyes from you. “I had heard something falling down the fire escape and noticed a broken window where the fire hadn't reached yet…”

A small sniffle came. His hands were threatening to rip the sheets. “I-if I had checked each floor! I had been in such a hurry to get everyone out from the floors that had been affected, that I just assumed everyone else had gotten out!”

Your eyes widened. No. No, no, no, no! He shouldn't be beating himself up over this! You'd gotten drunk enough the night before that you had slept through most of it! If you had had any more than you had, you would probably have burned to death on your bed! You were alive! Sure, you more than likely had second-degree burns, but you lived!

You tapped his knuckle a little quicker, trying to make a face that would tell him that you'd be alright. That you didn't blame him for anything. You were surprised to find his eyes so glossy, tears quickly building in the corners.

“I-” he took a breath in an attempt to compose himself. “I wanted to be here in case you woke up before… You haven't been out long. The doctors said you might, but…” He was ever so gently holding your hand now. The material of his gloves scratched painfully against your raw skin, but you didn't protest. You wanted the comfort it seemed to bring the both of you, and the physical discomfort it brought you was enough to stave off the fatigue that was quickly creeping in.

“The doctors… I volunteered to be the one to tell you and they agreed that it might be better for you hearing this from me if you woke up, a Hero…” A few tears escaped, which he quickly wiped away. You'd seen him cry on the news without issue, why was he trying to keep a brave face now? The beeping of your monitor picked up a little. What was he trying to say?

“Your injuries… You inhaled a lot of smoke and embers, causing burns inside of your mouth and throat. You mostly have second-degree burns and very few third-degree…” He swallowed hard. “Your right side and lower back have fourth-degree burns and your legs… had them.”

Your legs…

Fatigue forgotten, you desperately made to sit up. Deku vehemently protested but was hesitant to force you down and cause you more pain. You had to see. You needed to see.

It was a struggle, but you managed to confirm it with your own eyes before your body gave out. Instead of your legs stretched out to form lumps beneath the sheets, there was nothing. They stopped less than halfway down your thighs.

There were no tears or cries of anguish. You felt… empty. Hollow. Even the heart monitor was evening out. You were in shock. Understanding what was happening, but not fully grasping it. Beside you, Deku was quiet. Letting you take your time. When you turned your head to him, he looked ready to burst.

“I-I… I wish that was it… They told me that fourth-degree burns have a high mortality rate and they got infected from debris being lodged in them, so they… removed your legs. Your back and side… are also infected.” His voice had grown small. “A-and t-there's… there’s-”

He couldn't get it out, gripping your hand a little tighter as he hiccuped to keep his tears in. But, you didn't need him to finish. You already knew the words he was choking on.

You were going to die.

Again, you understood it but weren't fully comprehending it. It was strange. While burning alive in your apartment, you were in a panic, thinking you were going to die when help had been right there. A charcoaled body lying under debris, waiting for some poor sap to stumble upon you and begin the process of trying to remove your corpse that would probably be melted to that couch.

Now? You were in a sterile, scratchy hospital bed. In pain, in shock, missing your legs, and still dying despite all the effort. With one of the top five Heroes now weeping over you, profusely apologizing for not getting to you sooner, for not thinking to check every apartment, for not saving you.

You made a strangled noise, pulling at your trapped hand to get his attention. It took a moment, but he eventually did quiet, sniffling and wiping away the thick streams of tears that he just couldn't seem to stop. Good. You were too tired to stay awake much longer. You took a few shuddering breaths, making sure to keep your voice to that of a breathy whisper as to not irritate your throat too much. You needed him to hear, regardless of his protests.

“S… save,” your gums and jaw hurt and your tongue was having the hardest time working correctly, making your words come out garbled. This was going to be difficult. “You save… m-me.” Jeez, you were out of breath. “Th… than’ you… 'ey, s'op cr… ‘ryin’.” He looked up at you when you tapped his hand again. You didn't know if he was blurry due to your eyes having trouble staying open or if you yourself were crying. You squeezed his hand weakly as you gave a small smile through the hurting pull of your face.

“You... 'ave me. Don’... you… dare thin’... you didn’, yeah?” God, you were beyond ready to sleep. You took a moment to catch your breath. “Sm… smile? P’ease? Wa…” You were fading fast but were determined to get what you wanted to say out.

“Wan’ see… you smile… p'ease, De'u…” A stream of air left you as you relaxed. That was it. That was all you had. Your eyes were hardly staying open, but you saw it.

The thousand-watt smile Deku was known for cut through your darkening vision. Regardless of the clear sorrow he held, tears still falling, it was every bit as joyous and bright as the television and photos portrayed, if not more.

With that image imprinted in your brain, you stopped fighting, slipping off to sleep.