#also. reis side eye. hes just raising his brow. silly.

[spilled-carton-of-milk]

I love Kazuki casually forgetting he did not birth Miri himself

my brother in christ you said "finders keepers!! teehee :3c"

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk.  Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku​ and @sailorsero​ as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto​ 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!

Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE

---

Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”

Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.

“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker:  Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.

Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”

RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.

You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face. 

“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers. 

It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well. 

Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.

You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.

It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.

--

Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.” 

He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip. 

Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.

“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”

Mindfucker: Ridiculous.

“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”

The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.

Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”

RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.

Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I’ll see you guys next week!”

He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”

Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much. 

“What would I do without you, Toshi?”

“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”

“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”

Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”

“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”

“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”

Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.” 

“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”

Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”

Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.

Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.

Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?

Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.

--

Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.

Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.

“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”

LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.

RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!

Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.

Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?

“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”

Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”

The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.

“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”

Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.

“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.

Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.

LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.

Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.

LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.

“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.

A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached. 

Let McQueen choose this time, babe.

“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”

LightningMcQueen: Yellow

You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”

--

When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication. 

He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.

Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.

However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it? 

“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”

The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”

“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation. 

“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”

Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”

Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”

“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”

There was a message from you, short but sweet.

Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”

“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”

“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”

Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”

Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.

“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”

---

In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.

It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo. 

It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this. 

Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends. 

Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.

Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.

RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.

“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”

“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”

Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”

“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”

And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.

“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.

But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account. 

Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.

You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was. 

“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.

“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”

You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”

“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”

Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”

“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit. 

“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”

Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”

“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”

Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”

“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”

You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”

“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”

This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”

“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”

Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.

“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He 

You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”

“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”

Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”

Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”

“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked.  But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”

Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”

“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head. 

His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.

You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”

“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box. 

“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.” 

“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.

“Did you stretch yourself, baby?” 

He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”

“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”

Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.

You could be patient though, so you continued.

“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”

He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”

Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”

Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.

“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”

The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”

“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once. 

Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”

Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”

Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”

Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”

“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.

You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”

Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”

Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.” 

[huhusevenn]

jtwya

• fluff, humor

• Word Count: 1.5k

• HighSchool!au | transferee!woojin x reader

• a/n: hiii! i wish u had a great day, and if not, i hope this will help you smile for a bit. the reader's thoughts are in italics. thank for reading! the title sucks, bc i cant think of anything else im sorry :(( it's almost quarter to one here am here lmao

- Rei <3

ps. the photos arent mine, but the edit is mine.

"You're the shit."

"What the shit."

Hyunjin and Yeji said at the same time, but with different expressions. Typical twins. Except that you love Hyunjin's grin of fascination more than Yeji's gaze of disgust for this moment.

"I know. I'm the shit, right?" You grinned, throwing an arm over Hyunjin's shoulder to pull him close to you. You ruffled his hair playfully, earning a small giggle from him.

"No, Y/N, you look like shit. What in the world did you just do to your hair?" Yeji exclaims in disbelief as she eyes your new pixie, undercut hairstyle with light blonde highlights. You seriously don't understand why Yeji didn't like it. It's so beautiful you stared at yourself for 5 whole minutes in the mirror - that's a new record! Even your Dad was impressed by this hairstyle, and he rarely cares when it comes to these things.

"Apparently, I fell in love with Captain Marvel's hairdo. You also told me to get my hair done! " You stated defensively, which annoyed Yeji more.

She rolled her eyes at you. "I told you to get your hair done by hot-oiling it, dumb butt!"

"It's cool, you look like a boy now," Hyunjin ruffles my hair as well, "nice highlights, man! It added to the masculinity."

What. the. f-

Now that explains why Dad gave a fuck for the first freakin' time

"I'll just wish to the gods above the heavens that you didn't completely ruin your chances in dating someone this school year," Yeji sarcastically remarked.

"I don't even care anymore," you exhaled heavily, flushing all your hopes of dating someone out. You told yourself that you'll stop looking for guys and let destiny fate do their thing with you and your soulmate if there's any.

"I'm kind of tired assuming that someone would be interested in me, when society made it clear for people like me that there will never be," you ranted, followed by the sigh of defeat.

"Don't lose hope yet! Someone will see you beyond that hairstyle," Yeji half-heartedly encouraged, still a bit annoyed because of your hair.

"I'll seriously miss your long, dark hair, but I'll get used to this, hopefully." She finally smiled at you. The conversation was cut short by the first morning-bell, then students started to hurry, pushing each other rather carelessly at the hall just to make it to class before the second bell rings.

"See you at lunch!" you slightly yelled. She nodded in response as she separated herself from you and Hyunjin, who is currently doing his best to refrain from laughing hard as you put some of your things in your locker.

The hall is mostly empty by now, for the students have finally settled into their respective classrooms except for you, Hyunjin, and a boy you've never seen before in this school.

"Who's that?" You asked Hyunjin in a whisper as you watch the boy struggle in opening his locker.

"New kid, obviously," Hyunjin replies, "to be honest, I feel bad for him. That locker has been broken for god-knows-how-long and no one has ever used it until now."

"Hey!" You called out, "that locker's broken. We could share if you don't mind."

"PFFFT- Wow, Y/N, just. Wow." Hyunjin snarkily exclaimed, "that's a new kid and you're hitting on him already?"

You chose to ignore him and continued to arrange your locker so all his things could fit in. You don't really take up that much space since you carry everything in your bag because you tend to forget your assignments in your locker. You almost failed your English class because of it.

"Uhh, hi," You heard the new guy's silvery, soft voice behind you, "I'm... new here."

"Yeah, I can see that. So, what's your name?" Hyunjin asks.

"Woojin. Woojin Kim."

"All done," you turned around and gave the transferee a small smile.

"Thanks, man." He said as he placed his stuff inside your locker.

Hyunjin erupted in laughter that echoed throughout the empty hall, clapping his hands in pure amusement at the same time, which only added to your annoyance.

This Woojin guy looks at the both of you, confused as to why you're giving him a bitch face and Hyunjin laughing so hard. "Did I do something wrong?"

". . . I'm a girl."

"Oh, you are?"

Hyunjin cackles even harder, almost becoming the epitome of ROTFL; and you couldn't be more irritated when you see Woojin's look of pure astonishment. Do I really look like a guy?' But there's no point in arguing. You love this hairstyle nevertheless, and you know that you'll rock it whether you'll look like a guy or a gal. The second bell rang, signaling the start of the class. Good thing your first class is Biology, which is found right beside your locker row and your teacher is always 30 minutes late.

Ignoring the now calm Hyunjin and embarrassed Woojin, you entered the room and went to your seat. Woojin and Hyunjin follow you inside, as well. Hyunjin then goes to his seat at the back row, never forgetting to send you a teasing wink as he passed by.

Woojin eyes the classroom for a moment to look for an empty seat, then he found the one and only vacant spot, which was next to yours. Letting what he said slip away doesn't mean that you'd do the same with your burning annoyance, so you decided to act as if he had disappeared into thin air.

You felt him start to walk towards you, but you kept your head down to avoid eye contact. As soon as he sat on the chair, he spoke up. "Hey, I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, or whatsoever."

You looked at him with a raised brow, meeting his slightly serious gaze, to which you chuckled because you find it surprisingly cute of him to be this worried. Your annoyance immediately dissipated as if it was never there. "We're cool, man. No need for apologies."

"As a matter of fact, I find y-"

Woojin was cut off when the door slammed open, then your Biology teacher came in sight, still looking fresh as ever. Your class lowkey thinks that he's spending an hour in the mirror just to "fix" himself, that's why he's always late.

Woojin didn't bother continuing what he wants to tell you because his focus is now on the teacher, as he waits to be called to introduce himself. You didn't mind, though. You can always ask him about it later. Doodling on the back of your notebook is more interesting.

The teacher finally noticed Woojin and he formally introduced himself in front of the class, but with whatever the weirdest reason Mr. Lee has, he started to ask Woojin some silly questions, and you assumed that he's being lazy today and wants to spend the half-hour in doing nothing but joking around.

"So Woojin, what talents do you have?" He asks, sitting on top of his desk.

Woojin nervously fidgets his fingers, yet he answered, with a confident tone, "I sing, sir."

"Really? Care to sing your favorite line in your favorite song?"

He nodded. You're still not paying attention because you're busy perfecting the Pikachu doodle in your notebook. It's gonna be my first-ever masterpiece, even Jisung would be jealous.

But the moment he started singing, his voice cut through your focus then your eyes snapped towards him. Amazement widens your eyes, your mouth gapes in surprise as his voice - his sweet, angelic, and perfectly in-tuned voice - resonates through the whole room.

"When I see your face," he sang, as his eyes wander to the back of the room, "there's not a thing that I would change..."

"'Cuz you're amazing," his gaze met yours, then Civil War suddenly took place inside your stomach, "just the way you are."

The room fell silent, everyone still amazed and shocked. Your gazes are still locked, but you averted it as soon as the sound of Mr. Lee's handclaps broke through the silence, everyone then followed, some even whooping a little. But you're still dumbfounded because of what he did.

What the fuck was that, Woojin?

"But wait, I noticed you directing your gaze towards Chloe as you sang. It's for her, isn't it, Woojin?" Mr. Lee suggestively said, wiggling his brows at him playfully. Your classmates started to cheer loudly, whooping even louder, and a friend of Chloe yelled 'she's single, Woojin!' Woojin rubbed his back of his neck sheepishly, failing to answer because of his nervousness. You are kind of disappointed, but not surprised because new kids always pine up over Chloe - your school's very own It Girl. You thought Woojin would be an exception, but clearly, you are wrong.

Finally, Mr. Lee let Woojin take a seat then started lecturing. "I'm glad I discovered that hidden talent of yours," you whispered to him, nudging his side playfully with your elbow when he sat down.

"But I wasn't looking at Chloe. I swear." He whispered back, sending you a wink. It's not the Civil War that's happening anymore - it's actually the Endgame.

[renegade-skywalker]

i wasn’t 100% sure if you wanted prompts for the prompt list or you were reblogging it for your own reference, so if you didn’t want prompts (or if you just don’t feel inspired for this one) feel free to ignore this! anyway, 2 for finnrey!

Ahh thank you! I meant to say that I was open to prompts but was also bookmarking the post for future use regardless if anyone asked, but I’m so glad you did! This was actually really fun and really easy to write. Finn/Rey just comes so naturally to me, it was a pleasure doing this!

2. “I’ll keep you warm.”

The cockpit was frigid. Or maybe it was just Rey.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, the stress on her spirit, and her anger beside it, still roiling beneath her outer calm. No, not calm. Exhaustion. Exhaustion and pure disappointment.

Arms wrapped around herself, holding onto something, anything, she sunk into the pilot’s chair and stared out at the mottled blue-white of hyperspace.

In all her years on Jakku, not a single day had felt as long as this one had, nor as fruitless. Not the days where she went without food, or water, or kept herself holed up in her AT-AT or some other wreck while she waited for a storm to pass. Even with nothing else to pass the time than count the grains of sand or guess at just how many waking breaths she had left, nothing had prepared her for the past day… or was it a week? She didn’t know any more. And what did it matter?

The room was empty, and she wasn’t surprised. Hardly any of the Resistance had made it out of Crait alive. She had only seen the Resistance up close once, and even then she was far too worried about Finn to take stock of what and who else was in the galaxy, and whose side she was on.

Finn.

She last spied Finn bringing one of the Falcon’s sorry excuses for a blanket up around a fallen soldier, careful to tuck it around her shoulders, the flip of her hair spilling out over its frayed edge. Chewbacca had exited the cockpit, setting the ship on autopilot before embracing General Organa in a hug, a wealth of loss shared between them as they held one another, stoic and silent. Rey thought it best to leave them be while the others took stock, and sought to be by herself again. For once.

But she craved him, here, like they had been once, before Takodana, before Starkiller Base, before… all this.

She ached for the kindness in his eyes, his gentle hand, the one thing she found she missed in her time away, met only with the empty eyes of the lost Luke Skywalker and the dark, deceiving ones of Kylo Ren, who she now regretted calling Ben as if she could bring him back from the brink.

But Finn had grown up at the brink. He was brought up at the edge of the abyss, familiar with its darkness. It was all he knew. And still, he had the heart to step away from the precipice and steel himself against its pull, defiant despite it.

“Mind if I join you?” a voice pierced the quiet, deep but gentle and probing.

Rey turned, her face blushing.

“Finn,” she said, almost shrinking, afraid he’d heard her thoughts but knowing she was silly for thinking so.

“Are you…?” his question hung in the air as he hovered in the threshold, unsure. “Are you okay?”

Rey nodded, words failing her, though the look on her face must have said otherwise. Finn slumped into the copilots chair, his arm twitching slightly, as if deciding whether or not to reach out for her again.

“I’ll be alright,” she resigned, watching him struggle and wishing he would stop worrying, that they would all stop worrying - not that they had any reason to do otherwise.

Finn watched her, raising a brow.

“You look cold,” he said, almost sad, his voice wilting.

“Well, maybe a little, but-”

She was used to Jakku and its relentless days, noontime being the worst outdoors but the evenings even worse for the trapped heat. But the nights were unforgiving, the sands grown bitter cold once the suns sunk below the horizon, and now she didn’t feel quite different. She hadn’t the proper clothing then, and she didn’t now, but what she wore was familiar, comfortable. Wearing anything else would feel… strange, alien. But the shivering? Perhaps that was more than just the cold.

A wealth of thought played over her face as Rey struggled to express her inner thoughts, and Finn inched closer, extending a hand this time.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, his hand - sprawling and warm - gently probing at her elbow. “We’ll find something.”

Rey didn’t want to leave, but she also wanted to stay with Finn this time, not leave him like she had before.

After a moment, she nodded, allowing Finn to lead her from the cockpit to…

They paused at the end of the hall, Finn’s eyes darting left and right, unsure of where to go next.

“There’s a supply closet that way,” Rey said quietly, leaning into Finn’s hand still at her arm, guiding her.

Finn flushed, his eyes looking at her sidelong before looking left.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat, “This way, then.”

Rey couldn’t help but laugh at Finn’s mock expertise, clearly putting on a face for her benefit, or perhaps for his as well. She saw how he had comforted the sleeping girl back in the main hold earlier, the way he exchanged looks with Poe and with Leia. She could tell there was more stirring inside - worry, fear… but also hope. She smiled shyly, just out of sight as Finn meandered the hall, waiting for Rey to tell him just where the closet they were looking for was.

She pointed again when they came upon it, mouthing the word there as if she were a sprite guiding him despite his teasing (yet somehow still genuine) chivalry.

“Ah yes, of course,” Finn said again with mock severity, feigning a knowledge of the ship he spent less than a day with Rey on, mainly keeping to the hold and the cockpit, and nothing else.

Finn rummaged around, unsure of what he was looking for and unsure of what he was moving around, while Rey watched him, smiling all the while. He finally came upon a cloth, perhaps meant as a towel or a rag to dredge up oil while doing repairs, but he held it up for her inspection, his expression hopeful but hesitant.

“That will do,” she found herself laughing. Finn smiled, still shy, still unsure of how to act around her after all that had happened and all that remained unsaid. But when he draped the cloth around her shoulders, it felt as it did back on Crait, when the rocks parted and suddenly Finn was there, and a moment after he was in her arms again, the second part of a half finally whole again.

“This’ll keep you warm,” he said, tugging at the corners so the fabric barely covered her forearms. Rey stifled a laugh, smiling at him despite it. “Or maybe… I’ll keep you warm.”

Finn blushed, his skin growing hot to the touch. Rey’s arms prickled, suddenly alight with his bashfulness, though he did not shy away.

Warm indeed, she thought, nodding in agreement as they found a quiet corner of the ship, and got to talking, Finn’s presence at her side like the heat of the sun at midday, warm and steady all the while.

[ashinan]

so this is all @butteredonions fault because, okay, listen. LISTEN. I saw the art by @cherryandsisters that had Poe Dameron and Keith back to back and I kind of. died. a bit. because it was perfect. and then while talking to the darling Miss Onions, she said ‘what if?’ and now I’m here. this isn’t going to be the only fic I write in this sudden verse. I’m so mad at myself. but also screaming. anyway. here. have the voltron/star wars crossover that spawned overnight.

familiarity in misalignment

The stars were stunning here. D’Qar didn’t have such an unfettered view of the stars, and when Poe was in his X-wing, everything blurred by in a swirl of light and dark. Here, on the observation deck of a ship in another reality, it was - nice. Quiet. Different from the nightmares that pricked his memories full of holes.

Tucking the blanket under his thighs, Poe dropped his elbows on his knees. The constellations were just off, enough of a tick to the left to give Poe a headache. But compared to his hell of a night, it was soothing. Familiarity in misalignment. Poe snorted. Well, he hadn’t expected the nightmares to just leave him be because more exciting things were afoot. 

Yawning, Poe tucked his chin into his palm and smacked his lips. The stars blurred. The dark between reached like fingers, curled and vicious and digging - jerking his head up, Poe exhaled. Stars. Coping. Well.

The door behind him hissed. Poe frowned, twisting before the observation screen. Ah. One of their hosts. During dinner (which had been some of the strangest food he’d ever eaten, though Rey and Finn had been pleased as punch), Shiro had asked pointed and bafflingly specific questions about the lightspeed tech they had aboard their ships. He’d delved into the mechanics of it with Rey and the physics of it with Poe. Every inch the leader. Prodding for answers, uncertainty in the tense line of his jaw and the narrowed pinch of his eyes. Always on the defense.

Now, in the delicate light of the observation deck and with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Shiro reminded Poe surprisingly of Finn.

“You’re up late,” Poe said. Shiro blinked, head snapping up in surprise. His shock quickly melted into a blank smile, fingers clenched in the blanket. Poe frowned.

Shiro cleared his throat, his tone stiff and formal. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be up. Are the rooms not to your liking?”

“They’re fine, kid. It’s not often I get such an amazing view of the stars, is all.” Poe gestured. “Come on in, pull up some floor. Do you know the constellations here?”

Shiro hesitated. The sweats he wore were too long, nearly covering his toes. His sleep shirt was too small. The metal fingers of his right hand twisted heavily in the blanket he’d wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Poe raised a brow. Shiro’s jaw shifted. He stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him, cutting off the light from the hall and bathing everything in a soft blue glow. Poe wiggled to the side, patting the floor beside him, and Shiro tentatively folded down beside him.

“So, constellations? You know ‘em?”

Shiro shook his head, adjusting the blanket around his knees. “Not in this quadrant. I knew the ones before, though. What are the stars like in your reality?”

“Slightly different.” Poe cradled his cheek in his palm, gaze bouncing over Shiro’s haggard expression. Circles under his eyes, sallow skin, hollow cheeks. Poe clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You don’t look so hot.”

Scrubbing at his nose, at his scar, Shiro tilted his chin down. The stars caught on the metal of his wrist. “I’m fine.”

Poe snorted. “Mhm. I know a nightmare face when I see one, kid. Nighttime can be a load of bantha shit if you let it. This your coping mechanism?”

Blinking, Shiro furrowed his brow. He remained quiet. Watching. Weighing options. Poe waited, tapping a finger against his cheek, holding Shiro’s gaze. For a moment, he dropped the facade of a carefree and battle hungry pilot, allowed Shiro a peek behind the curtain.

Circles under his eyes courtesy of Kylo Ren and his fucking control issues.

A tick in his jaw he couldn’t quite contain.

Rippling shivers in the fine bones of his wrists, burned into his bones from the manacles he would never be free of.

A moment. An understanding. Shiro’s mouth dropped open. Poe quirked a brow. “Now you’re getting there.”

Swallowing, Shiro clicked his teeth together. Exhaled. Tucked himself deeper into the blanket. “How long have you had them?”

“The current ones I’ve only had for a few months.” Poe glanced out the window at a lazy comet spiralling between starlight. “The others are oldies but goodies from my glory days before the Resistance. Different horrors thrown together to make sleeping a right dick.”

Quiet stretched between them, as delicate as the spidersilk light of a fading star. Poe bounced his gaze from constellation to constellation, never straying into the darkness between, remaining stubbornly within the light. His thoughts were sharp but his body was fuzzy. The nightmares lurked, petulant.

“I’m -” Shiro started, stopped, started again, “I don’t remember the dreams. Just the feelings. Sometimes I catch glimpses but it’s just smears of colour. The feelings though. Those hurt.”

Stars, this was a mess. Falling into this reality had been disorienting, but war was the same across the board: a bundle of exhaustion and fear, of close calls and near misses, of not so lucky moments and screaming grief. The kid was young. Scarred in a way Poe couldn’t quite comprehend, more than the horror carved into his skin. Unfair, that. War was unfair. How it had hooked its claws into Shiro was even more so.

Sighing, Poe scrubbed his hands through his hair. “What helps?”

“Not talking about it,” Shiro said, quirking a smile when Poe laughed.

“See, I keep trying that and it does squat. Let’s try one of mine instead.” Straightening his spine, Poe lifted a hand and tilted his palm, spreading his fingers wide until each fingertip touched a star. “We don’t know the constellations here, but we can play around with that. Come up with some fancy names for stars we see and claim them as our own.”

Shiro laughed, a gut punch sound that rattled wrong. Poe nudged their shoulders together. “Come on, kid. If I’m doing your coping mechanism, it’s only fair you do mine.”

“What’s the hand thing?” Shiro asked, mimicking the wide spread of Poe’s fingers. His eyes narrowed and he adjusted the angle. Most pilots got it on the first try. Poe hid a smile. Finn never understood this exercise, but every single pilot Poe had coached had picked it up damn near immediately. Shiro was no exception.  

Tilting his head, Poe explained, “Helps you pick your stars. Each fingertip represents the beginning of a different constellation. Let’s see if we can’t come up with something to wow the others, huh?”

They spent the next hour or so locating and mapping the stars with their fingers. Shiro’s posture relaxed the further into the game they got, until a proper laugh escaped him when Poe explained exactly what an Ewok was and why the constellation beginning on his middle finger was the spitting image of one. The tense line of Shiro’s jaw eased; his shoulders dropped and his gaze went bright with mischief and excitement. A proper response to a game. The kid deserved a bit of nonsense considering the position he was in. A single night where the nightmares were secondary to a bit of silly fun.

By the time the lights started to mimic dawn in the observation deck, Shiro had laughed himself hoarse and tired, snickering as Poe recounted the story of Luke Skywalker and the Tauntaun. Poe picked out a last constellation, quietly naming it Bey before dropping his hands into his lap. The last prickles of darkness at the edge of his thoughts drifted away into starlight. Shiro exhaled shakily. Poe waited.

“Thanks for this,” Shiro whispered.

Poe shrugged. “Honestly, it helped me too. Talking is great and all, but sometimes just chasing the nightmares away with the light is more satisfying.” Poe quirked his lips. “Also, Finn doesn’t get it. He always ends up calling me a cheater.”

Shiro laughed, proper and worn. “How do you cheat at star naming?”

“That’s what I said!”

The lights grew brighter. Shiro broke their conversation with a truly incredible yawn. Poe pushed to his feet, groaning at the pop of his hip and the numb tingle of his thighs. Shiro followed him up, yawning again, blanket hunched up around his ears. They burned most of the night away playing chase with the stars. Hopefully, that was enough.

Poe clapped a hand to Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro blinked blearily at him. “Get some sleep, kid. I’ll keep everyone in line until you can join us again.”

“I’m okay.”

“Nope, none of that, we’re not doing that again.” Even though Shiro was taller, Poe marched Shiro to the door and nudged him back toward the Paladin quarters. “I didn’t share a top secret coping mechanism only to have you pass out in your breakfast. Now, go.”

Cracking a smile, Shiro staggered his way down the hall, yawning wide again as he disappeared around a corner. Stifling his own yawn, Poe picked his way back to the guest quarters, to where Rey would be fighting with Finn over the covers and the both of them would quietly ask if Poe wanted to talk. Strange new reality, strange constellations, but same concepts.

The lights rose in a mimicry of a sunrise.

[alixofagnia]

Space Jane Eyre in 10 Quotes (Or Why Charlotte Brontë Would Have Been a Reylo)

Basic Character Similarities

Rey/Jane Eyre

The most obvious similarity between the two is their origins. Rey and Jane are orphans and they both had hard, cruel childhoods because of it. Jane, poor and lonely, is raised by her cold relations, the Reeds, and later sent to suffer the harsh and starving conditions of the Lowood school, run by the autocratic hand of Mr. Brocklehurst. Rey, also poor and lonely, was abandoned by her parents, who are apparently dead. She grew up in the harsh conditions of Jakku, where hunger was a constant companion. Unkar Plutt is the Star Wars counterpart of both the Reeds and Brocklehurst.

Interestingly, neither heroine is embittered or cowed by these grim beginnings. Of necessity, they have a keen sense of self-reliance and self-loyalty, and cling to their own sense of merit. Rey and Jane come from nothing, but they make the better choices.

Ben Solo/Rochester

The most obvious similarity between the two is their turbulent family history and the direction they went because of that. Ben Solo is the sole inheritor of a galactic legacy with a family who expected great things of him. But, one by one, they lost faith in him and the betrayal fueled his descent to the Dark Side. Rochester comes from a wealthy family, but he is a younger son and his father, who refused to split his estate between two sons, arranged to have Rochester marry a rich woman. Both the father and older brother, Rowland, in their desire for wealth, withheld from Rochester the fact that hereditary mental illness ran in her family. The anger over the betrayal and subsequent burden of an insane, violent wife fueled Rochester’s descent into debauchery.

Both men can be said to have misspent their youth, live by a skewed moral compass, and give in far too often to primal instincts, such as fear, anger, and violence. Ben and Rochester come from everything, but they make the poorer choices. In a way, each has given up hope of being something different or changing course, until they meet their respective (or potential) partners.

10 Quotes

OK, here we go.

1) After Jane and Rochester meet:

R: And you came from-?

J: From Lowood school, in –shire.

R: How long were you there?

J: Eight years.

R: Eight years! You must be tenacious of life. I thought half the time in such a place would have done up any constitution! No wonder you have rather the look of another world. I marveled where you had got that sort of face.

Reylo parallel: This is essentially similar to Kylo’s reaction in TFA to finding out that Rey is from the harsh environs of Jakku and isn’t as, well, crusted up (physically and mentally) as she ought to be. It’s sort of where I feel some of his nascent fascination with her starts.

2) Jane speaking to Rochester’s housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax, about Rochester:

F: If he has peculiarities of temper, allowance should be made.

J: Why?

F: Partly because it is his nature – and we can none of us help our nature; and, partly, he has painful thoughts, no doubt, to harass him, and make his spirits unequal.

J: What about?

F: Family troubles, for one thing.

J: But he has no family.

F: Not now, but he has had – or, at least, relatives. […] Rowland combined to bring Mr. Edward into what he considered a painful position, for the sake of making his fortune: what the precise nature of that position was I never clearly knew, but his spirit could not brook what he had to suffer in it. He is not very forgiving: he broke with his family, and now for many years he has led an unsettled kind of life.

Reylo parallel: Mirrors Ben’s painful parting from his own family through a series of perceived personal betrayals. We can also draw comparisons between the imbalances of nature in both characters.

3) Rochester opening up to Jane about the person he was at her age:

R: Nature meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, one of the better end; and you see I am not so. Take my word for it – I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that – not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite common-place sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. […] Remorse is the poison of life.

J: Repentance is said to be its cure, sir.

R: It is not its cure. Reformation may be its cure; and I could reform–I have strength yet for that–if–but where is the use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I will get it, cost what it may.

Reylo parallel: Rochester’s first quote reminds me of Adam Driver’s interpretation of Kylo Ren when he said that the most dangerous and the most complicated villain is the villain who believes they’re right. Ben, despite his upbringing which would suggest otherwise, was in some ways a victim of his circumstances. Intensely lonely, very much isolated as much by his Force inheritance as his bloodline, Ben was ripe for being preyed on by someone wanting to twist his insecurities for their own machinations. Rochester’s second quote, at Jane’s prompt, echoes the back and forth conflict we see in Kylo in TFA and in Ben in TLJ. He thinks he made his choice and continues to try to rationalize and resign himself to it the way Rochester does.

4) Jane’s response to this:

J: Only one thing I know: you said you were not as good as you should like to be, and that you regretted your own imperfection; one thing I can comprehend: you intimated that to have a sullied memory was a perpetual bane. It seems to me, that if you tried hard, you would in time find it possible to become what you yourself would approve; and that if from this day you began with resolution to correct your thoughts and actions, you would in a few years have laid up a new and stainless store of recollections, to which you might revert with pleasure.

Reylo parallel: Oh, Jesus, Jane/Rey. How pure you are. This touches a bit on the “kill your past” mantra that Ben hammers into Rey, who like Jane, has already dealt with her past in some ways. It colors who they’ve become and it’s painful to both, but the pain of it didn’t completely twist them, like it did in Ben and Rochester. Jane’s advice here sums up what Rey’s thought process regarding the turning of Ben Solo might have been like.

5) Jane reflecting to herself on Rochester:

J: And was Rochester now ugly in my eyes? No, reader. Yet I had not forgotten his faults: indeed, I could not, for he brought them frequently before me. He was proud, sardonic, harsh to inferiority of every description: in my secret soul I knew that his great kindness to me was balanced by unjust severity to many others. He was moody, too; unaccountably so. But I believed that his moodiness, his harshness, and his former faults of morality (I say former, for now he seemed corrected of them) had their source in some cruel cross of fate. I believed he was naturally a man of better tendencies, higher principles, and purer tastes than such as circumstances had developed, education instilled, or destiny encouraged. I thought there were excellent materials in him; though for the present they hung together somewhat spoiled and tangled. I cannot deny that I grieved for his grief, whatever that was, and would have given much to assuage it.

Reylo parallel: Holy shit. Well, aside from being a scarily accurate character study of Ben Solo as well as Rochester, this is basically summarizing the intimate notes that come out of Reylo’s Force connection, Rey’s gradual empathy for Ben, and her later rationalization for trying to bring him back: the belief that Ben can change his “faults of morality.” But, like Jane, this quote reflects Rey’s probable understanding that Ben still has some serious personality flaws to overcome before she could really love him. It also includes the definition of a Byronic hero and in it, you can see the clear parallels to Ben’s characterization as a Byronic hero.

6) Rochester disguises himself as a gypsy to try and obtain unguarded answers from Jane:

R: You are cold; you are sick; and you are silly.

J: Prove it.

R: I will; in few words. You are cold, because you are alone; no contact strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick; because the best of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given to man, keeps far away from you. You are silly; because, suffer as you may, you will not beckon it to approach; nor will you stir one step to meet it where it waits you.

Reylo parallel: This, to me, in both stories, is Ben/Rochester trying to lure Rey/Jane to him by forcing her to re-evaluate her truths. He’s trying to break her resolve. It doesn’t really work, in either case, because as I’ve said, though they may feel pain from time to time, Rey and Jane have not let these wounds fester, and it has made them basically untouchable from Ben/Rochester’s manipulations.

7) Just to nail that point home, Rochester (still in gypsy form) analyzes Jane:

R: [Jane’s] brow professes to say, - “I can live alone, if self-respect and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inward treasure, born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld; or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give. Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let the feelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision. Strong wind, earthquake shock, and fire may pass by: but I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice which interprets the dictates of conscience.”

Reylo parallel: Let me just say, I really love Charlotte Brontë. For me, this is a further character similarity between Jane and Rey that makes me love both characters so much. Rochester might be getting a little carried away here, but this is such an apt description of Rey, too, and again foreshadows her final resolve to leave Ben just as it foreshadows Jane’s decision to leave Rochester. His analysis hits Rochester pretty hard and he ends the gypsy charade by revealing himself to Jane, who basically knew all along that it was him. I like to think Ben comes to a similar understanding of Rey over the course of their Force connections and admires her for it.

8) Rochester is mad and desperate over Jane’s rejection:

R: Never was anything at once so frail and so indomitable. A mere reed she feels in my hand! I could bend her with my finger and thumb: and what good would it do if I bent, if I uptore, if I crushed her? Consider that eye: consider the resolute, wild, free thing looking out of it, defying me, with more than courage–with a stern triumph. Whatever I do with its cage, I cannot get at it– the savage, beautiful creature! If I tear, if I rend the slight prison, my outrage will only let the captive loose. Conqueror I might be of the house; but the inmate would escape to heaven before I could call myself possessor of its clay dwelling-place. And it is you, spirit–with will and energy, and virtue and purity–that I want: not alone your brittle frame.

Reylo parallel: Well, this is pretty much the inner thought process flooding Ben’s mind space after the throne room proposal and its rejection. It contains Rochester’s violent undertones, which are actualized by Ben’s actions on Crait and echoed in his claimed intention to destroy Rey. The insight Rochester gains, however, from this violent thinking is something Ben (likely) realizes too late on the floor of the abandoned base: his violence has given way to the hollowness of a false victory.

9) Jane’s tragic leave-taking and famous line:

J: I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.

R: And your will shall decide your destiny. I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions.

J: You play a farce, which I merely laugh at.

R: I ask you to pass through life at my side – to be my second self and best earthly companion.

J: For that fate you have already made your choice, and must abide by it.

Reylo parallel: Essentially, this is the dialogue between Reylo in their final, closing Force interchange. You could subtitle their shots with these lines.

10) After Jane and Rochester are reunited she self-reflects:

J: I should not have left him thus, he said, without any means of making my way: I should have told him my intention. I should have confided in him: he would never have forced me to be his mistress. Violent as he had seemed in despair, he, in truth, loved me far too well and too tenderly to constitute himself my tyrant: he would have given me half his fortune, without demanding so much as a kiss in return, rather than I should have flung myself friendless on the wide world.

Reylo parallel: This is the retrospection that Reylo should get in IX. How many of us noted that, had Rey been less impulsive and just asked what Ben meant by creating a new order, maybe Reylo would have ended TLJ on the same side? Ben wasn’t obviously asking Rey to be his mistress, but it represents the moral miscommunication that happened between them. And, obviously, Rey isn’t friendless in a sense. But Ben knows how deep her loneliness and isolation run, and is protective of that the way Rochester is protective of Jane’s well-being. The angst!

Reylo is Space Jane Eyre. That is all.

Bonus Quote

R: I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you–especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.

Reylo parallel: Force bond.

[weezxo-blog]

You’re My Religion

OK guys, this is my very first attempt at writing a fan fic, or anything to be honest! Please excuse any mistakes/bad grammar. I tried my best with this, but am far from a pro! I hope you can see past any mistakes, and enjoy the story anyhow. This is heavily based on Lana Del Rey lyrics, which I feel fit so well with JDM. He always comes to mind when I listen to her songs. Below are the ones I’ve used the lyrics from in the story for reference, if interested. Feedback welcome :) 

Lana Del Rey - Gods and Monsters

Echo and The Bunnymen -  The Killing Moon

Lana Del Rey - Yayo

Pairing: Negan/Louise (original character)

Summary: Louise is a part time singer, playing local bars in her small town at the weekends. The night started like any other, until a handsome stranger walks in, changing everything. Louise is in her mid twenties, with long dark hair and blue eyes. Quite petite.

Warnings: Language, sexual themes

Friday 9pm. The bar was relatively quiet, with only a handful of regulars perched at the bar, eyes fixed on the TV. The place didn’t usually come alive til later, so I was confident I’d still pull a crowd. I sang here regularly, and was good friends with the owner Matt. We had been friends since high school. The bar was one of the only ones in town that had live music on a regular basis. I used to work here at one point, serving drinks a few years back. It became my second home. When I wasn’t working, I’d be hanging with my large group of friends. Playing pool, and participating in the odd karaoke night. Singing had always been a passion of mine, and something I enjoyed immensely. Plus the extra cash always came in handy, in addition to my day job as a florist.

I fixed my make up in the bathroom. Swiping my signature red lipstick across my lips. The perfect contrast to my long, dark hair, and black mini tea dress. I loved the ritual of getting dolled up. It put me in character for my set. Even though it was just a bar, I always gave it my all. ‘Louise, can I get you a drink or something?’ Matt yelled from the other side of the door. ‘Nah, I’m good Matt. I’m on the water. Save the drink til after the set.’ I smiled. Checking myself over one last time. Perfect.

I stepped on stage, fixing my mic stand, and checked over my guitar tuning one last time. The room was dim, with only the bar lights glowing. Even though the October air was cold, the heat in the small bar was already rising. There was a heaviness to it. I felt the familiar feeling of butterflies in the pit of my stomach. It sounded silly, but I always got nervous before I sang. The intimacy of a small crowd made it much more personal.

Two songs in, and the bar was already starting to fill, and any sign of stage fright had gone. A rush of cool air hit my body as the door opened, causing my hair to blow back off my face. I Looked over to the door, where I saw him For the first time. Tall, with slicked back hair, and angular features, his long, lean body towered over the crowd. His black biker jacket fit perfectly over broad shoulders, and black jeans sat low on his hips. It was like he moved in slow motion. Everything in the room became a blur, and of unimportance. He was like no one else. Taken aback, my voice hitched as I sang. I watched him casually saunter up to the bar. Hunched over the wooden top, resting an arm on the edge, he waited patiently to be served. He looked quite a bit older than myself. Not that I minded. Older men were always my preference. He had an air of confidence about him…bordering on cockiness. 

 ‘In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel, lookin’ to get fucked hard. Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, Life imitates art You got that medicine I need Dope, shoot it up straight to the heart please I don’t really wanna know what’s good for me God’s dead, I said ‘baby that’s alright with me’

. As if reading my thoughts, he turned to face me, locking eyes as I sang. My heart raced. His gaze was intense. I felt a vulnerability wash over me, but I couldn’t break my eyes away from his. It was as if every word I sang had been written about him. I picked up my acoustic. ‘This next song is a cover, and one of my all time favourites….I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.’

‘Under a blue moon I saw you  So soon you’ll take me  Up in your arms  Too late to beg you or cancel it  Though I know it must be the killing time  Unwillingly mine Fate  Up against your will  Through the thick and thin  He will wait until  You give yourself to him’ 

No one else mattered. It was just him and I. His eyes broke from mine, only to start a slow descent down my body. As he drank in my appearance, exploring my every curve, I felt almost body conscious. Like a shy teenage girl again. I wanted to know his thoughts. I can’t remember the last time a man had an impact like this on me. I needed to pull myself together. I added some extra sass to my swaying hips, and pouted my lips, acting as care free as possible. Eventually his eyes made their way back to mine, causing me to bite down on my lower lip. What felt like a private one on one show, got cut short with the arrival of his drink. Bourbon on the rocks…of course he was a whiskey man. I watched as he wrapped his long, slender fingers round the glass, bringing it to his lips. Sipping down the amber liquid slowly, he turned back to me. 

For the rest of my set, our eyes continued to meet. He was a hard character to read, not giving much away in his facial expression, but I could tell he was as intrigued with me, as I was with him.

‘Put me onto your black motorcycle 50’s baby doll dress for my “I do” It only takes two hours to Nevada I wear your sparkle, you call me your mama Let me put on a show for you, daddy Let me put on a show Let me put on a show for you, tiger Let me put on a show ‘

As I sang the final note of the song, the busy bar applauded. Setting his drink down on the bar top, my man of mystery clapped with the rest of the room. A slight devilish smirk played on his lips as he watched me set down my guitar and step down from the stage. He had trouble written all over him, and I was desperate to know more.

Taking in a deep breath, I made my way over to the bar, making sure to slip in to the space between him and the next man. Waiting to be served, we both stood there in silence. He knew I was there. Looking down at his drink, he swirled the liquid round the glass, his low, gravelly voice breaking the silence, after what felt like a lifetime. ‘That’s quite a voice you have there.’ My god, he sounded divine. Turning to face me, i saw his features for the first time in detail. Faint lines surrounded his dark eyes, that deepened when he smiled. Rough, silver stubble covered his face, but couldn’t hide those dimples that were underneath. He was beautiful. ‘Thank you, I hope you enjoyed it?’ I responded, coyly tucking a piece of my long, dark hair behind my ear.  ‘Enjoy it? Sweetheart, hearing you tonight was the most enjoyment I’ve had since fuck knows when.’ I felt my cheeks burn red. ‘Can’t say I’ve seen you in here before?’ I pried. Leaning my hip against the bar, now fully facing him. ’ Well i ain’t really a regular. Just stop in by some places when I’m out riding. Usually when my wonderful wife is busting my balls about shit.’ He had a wife. My heart sank. I tried to hide the disappointment on my face, giving a half hearted chuckle at his response. ‘I’m Negan.’ He outstretched his hand. His wide grin showed his perfect white teeth. ‘Louise.’ I placed my hand in his, which was much larger than mine, and surprisingly softer than I anticipated. The heat from his palm radiated through my body. I was literally putty in his hands. ‘Can I buy you a drink Louise?’ Damn. I had to play this cool. Or at least Pretend to. ‘Yeah, sure. Why not? I’ll have what you’re having.’ He raised his brows, almost surprised. ‘A girl after my own heart.’

The next thirty minutes felt like a dream. We grabbed our drinks and headed to a small table at the back of the bar. It was much darker, making his features appear in soft focus. ‘So how long you been doing this for, superstar?’ I sighed. ‘Good question…Umm, about 6 years if my memory serves me correctly. I’ve always sang though. I was in the school chior until i was 16.’ I smiled. ‘Wow, the chior? Looking all innocent and shit?’ You must have been such a good girl in high school.’ He teased. Eyebrows arched. ‘Ha, if only you knew the half.’ I shook my head, taking a sip of whiskey. ‘Oh I can already tell you have a mischevious side. Look at that smile.’ Pointing at my face. ‘Hell, it got my attention.’ He winked. I lowered my head, trying to hide my blushing cheeks that were already red from the alcohol. ‘Your guitar playing is also pretty damn impressive.’ He looked at me with a seriousness. ‘I play a little too…although not as good as you, Miss Smarty Pants.’ I shot him an over dramatic look, raising a hand to my mouth. He let out a soft chuckle, taking another sip of his drink. ‘Maybe I can teach you sometime?’ ‘Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.’ Licking his lips through a toothy grin. ‘So what about you Negan? What do you do for a living?’ ‘Excuse me, but that’s coach Negan to you young lady.’ ‘Coach? As in school coach?!’ ‘Yes as in school coach. Someone has to keep those sorry shits in line and make them do some damn exercise.’ ‘Wow, I was not expecting that! I’m glad you weren’t my teacher.’ I teased. ‘Darlin’ I can promise you’d have wished I was.’ My face was seriously burning up. A Cheshire cat like grin spread across his face, showcasing those dimples. Brushing off his comment, I continued. ‘I’m guessing it’s not at the school here?’ ‘No, next town. At the high school.’ I couldn’t stay in a town this small. I get bored easy. And what about you baby girl? You got a some weird ass day job too, I should know about?’ ‘Haha, no not really. I’m a florist. Flowers are my shit.’ I replied in ma matter of fact way. He gave his head a slight nod to the side, pouting his lips. ‘Nice.’ ‘What’s your favourite flower?’ 'What’s my favourite flower?!’ I laughed. 'Can’t say I’ve ever been asked that by a guy before.’ 'Darlin’, I ain’t like other men.’ 'You don’t say…Well if you really want to know, it would have to be black calla lilies. They’re dark and mysterious, a bit like myself.’ I winked. 'Haha, you’re definitely dark and mysterious. Got me wanting to know more, let me tell you.’ From there on, we chatted about everything. 

From music, and movies, to his dogs, and favourite bourbon. Talking to him was easy. It wasn’t like having a conversation with an awkward young guy. The type that usually tried to chat me up when I played. Negan was different. He was confident. A man that knew what he wanted, and skipped the bullshit. I’d never met anyone like him, yet it felt like I’d known him forever. ‘I’m telling you, Knob Creek wins, hands down! That’s some classic shit right there.’ Pointing to the liquid in his glass, his voice full of passion, and eyebrows raised. ‘I don’t know…doesn’t taste a whole lot different from Jack to me.’ I playfully pondered. Deliberately winding him up. ‘Is that so young lady?’ We stared at eachother in silence, for what felt like a lifetime. The authoritive tone of his voice sent a heat soaring between my legs. I imagined all dirty things he could say with that mouth. Crossing over my legs in attempt to relieve some of the pressure, my foot lightly grazed his leg, causing his eyes to dart to mine. I didn’t mean to touch him, but it certainly didn’t look like he minded. I let my foot linger against him, enjoying any form of contact. ‘Are you flirting with me doll?’ He toyed, smiling into his glass as he lifted it to his lips. ‘What if I was?’ I mirrored his actions, sipping slowly on my drink, trying to hide my smile. There was another pause of silence between us. Suddenly I felt his finger tips brush against my foot under the table. Heat soared through my body at his touch. His eyes bore into me with a look I hadn’t seen yet. They were dark, with almost an urgency to them. A hunger. His hand moved further up my leg, stopping at my calf. ‘So Louise. Tell me, what other hobbies you got? Other than music of course.’ Was he seriously asking me this right now?! His hand moved to the back of my calf, massaging the muscle firmly, working his way down to my ankle. My lips parted, barely able to form words. ‘Umm, I….I enjoy photography, and working out.’ I stammered. ‘Working out, huh?’ I can feel that. These legs of yours are delicious.’ He purred, with heavy eyes. Trying my hardest to keep it together for the sake of my dignity, remembering I was in a public place, I managed to muster out a sentence. ‘What are your hobbies?’ He leaned slightly closer over the table. ‘Maybe if you hang around a little longer, I’ll show you exactly what my hobbies include.’ Licking his lips suggestively. I was too caught up in his words and touch to come up with anything coherent to say. He knew exactly what he was doing. The smug expression on his face said it all.

 Whatever was about to happen next, came to a grinding hault, by the unwelcome sting of house lights. ‘Fucking god damn it.’ Negan hissed, eyes scrunched, swinging back in his seat. He sounded as disappointed as I felt. Snapped back to reality, I sat up in my chair, uncrossing my legs, trying to process how the hell things escalated so quickly. ‘Everybody out!’ Bouncer Brian wasn’t in mood to fuck around tonight. Knowing that we’d be allowed to stay, I made Negan an offer. ‘You know, we’ve got time for another drink? If you want to of course.’ I hoped that didn’t sound as desperate as it came out. He sighed. ‘While I’d absolutely love to get shit faced with you sweetheart, I gotta be able to ride home in one piece.’ He smiled. ‘Oh, of course. Silly me!’ My fake smile barely hiding my disappointment for the second time tonight. Shit, what was I thinking anyway? This totally wasn’t my style. Sure, I liked to flirt, but with a married man I had just met? He had me under his spell. Gulping down the last of his drink, he stood up, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. ��You smoke?’ ‘Not in a good few years. Could use some fresh air though. It’s far too hot in here .’ Fanning myself down with my hand. He smiled, outstreching his arm for me to pass, as we headed towards the door. 

 The fresh autumn air was crisp, bringing a slight bite to my flushed cheeks. Negan leaned against the wall, lighting up his cigarette. Taking in a long draw, causing his cheeks to hollow. The way that cigarette hung from his lips made him look ridiculously sexy. I just wanted to drink in his appearance. He let out a slow exhale, the smoke disappearing into the cool, night air. ‘Is this your bike?’ It was a Harley. It had to be his. It looked as bad ass as he did. ‘Sure is. She’s my baby.’ I touched the cold metal frame, looking it over in closer detail. ‘She’s a beauty.’ I had always had a facination with bikes, and had been meaning to get my licence for quite some time. 'You ride?’ Intrigued by my enthusiasm. 'Well I can, but I don’t have a licence.’ 'Oh you naughty girl.’ He shook his head, lips curling through his snigger. Pushing himself off gainst the wall, he dragged his free hand over his mouth, staring off into the distance in thought. ‘You know, I could give you a ride home sweetheart? His proposition caught me off guard. I turned quickly to face him. He had a playful glint in his eye. My imagination ran wild, painting a picture of us riding through the darkness, wind in my hair, and arms wrapped tight around his body. ‘Well? What do you say?’ His husky voice brought me back to reality. As much as the thought made my heart race, I couldn’t allow it to happen. After all, I’d only just met the man. ‘Oh it’s ok, my friend, the owner of this place is driving me home soon. I almost instantly regretted my decision. ‘He likes to know I get home safe.’ Negan raised his eyebrows. ‘You implying I wouldn’t take care of you baby doll?’ resting his thumb on his lower lip. ‘No, of course not, I didn’t mean…’ ‘I know sweetheart, I’m just fucking with you.’ We laughed, staring at eachother with lust filled eyes. A calm silence followed. Taking one last drag on his cigarette, Negan tossed it to the ground, stamping the bud out. Exhaling, he walked towards me, stopping only feet apart from me. ‘It’s a real shame though. I’m pretty positive you’d have enjoyed the ride’. He looked down at me, biting his bottom lip through his smile. His scent was intoxicating. A combination of cigarettes and cologne. I felt myself getting wet at the sheer overload on my senses. It was almost unbearable to be this close to him. 'Maybe next time?’ I implied, looking up at him doe eyed. 'Abso-fuckin’-lutely baby girl.’ We stood in the quiet. He towered over my petite frame. He could have consumed me, if his stare hadn’t already done so. 'Well I guess I better hit the road before my wife finds something else to fucking yell at me for.’ He closed the space between us, bending his head down to kiss my cheek. His stubble lightly grazing my face. 'It was very fucking nice meeting you tonight Louise.’ I loved hearing him say my name. I could listen to it on repeat forever. 'It was nice meeting you too Negan. I’m singing here in two weeks again, if you happen to be out on the prowl.’ Winking at him suggestively as he mounted his bike. 'Can’t come soon enough.’ Assuring me he’d be there. 'Goodnight sweetheart. You take care of your pretty little self.’ 'You too Negan.’ I shouted, waving him off. 

 And with that, he was gone. Suddenly aware of the cold air and silence around me, i crossed my arms close to my body, and headed back inside. Most people had now left the bar. 'That looked cozy.’ Matt smiled and winked, wiping down the bar top. 'Oh please, we were just talking.’ Not fooling him, or myself with my response. Taking a seat at the bar, I sighed, staring into space. 'Does he come here often?’ Matt raised his eyebrow, giving a small smirk. 'Not really. I’d say maybe a couple times a month or something. Usually keeps himself to himself. Looks deep in thought most of the time.’ 'So you haven’t really seen him chat up other girls, or whatever?’ I tried making my questions as casual as possible. 'Nope, can’t say I’ve seen him.’ I knew I shouldn’t be getting involved with a married man. It was trouble waiting to happen. But trouble excited me. There was something different about Negan. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I bet he had a girls falling for him in every bar. I wondered why he was so open about having a wife? Was I just a number to him? How often did he do this sort of thing? I just didn’t get it. Most guys would go to the ends of the earth to hide that sort of thing, with his intentions being so obvious. My mind was in a million places. 'Louise! Hey.’ Matt snapped his fingers, trying to get my attention. 'Time to go! Let’s hit the road.’ I had a feeling this would be a fucking long two weeks…