#but like i haven't done a story of just him

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[imjustdreamingig]

Isn't that sweet, I guess so

Part 1, Part 2

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut

A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other

Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)

And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.

You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.

As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.

Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.

The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.

"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"

"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.

Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.

"��� and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.

"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.

"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"

Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.

"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."

You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"

Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.

"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.

Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.

"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"

"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"

Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."

You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."

"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."

You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"

At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"

You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.

"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"

He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?

Oh, absolutely not.

With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.

"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.

"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.

All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.

You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.

Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."

He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.

As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.

Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.

Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"

You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 1, a familiar stranger

Masterlist Word count: 1.2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. No graphic content yet.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Did Rafayel find someone to rent my apartment yet,' Zayne questions as he puts two mugs of tea on your coffee table. You shrug in response. 

'Haven't heard anything yet, but knowing him, it'll probably be soon.' Zayne smiles at your sulking expression. He reaches out to ruffle a hand through your hair. You quickly smack his hand away and stare at him with pretend anger. 

'How have you been holding up without me?' That question is loaded, and he knows it. For the past four years, he has been your neighbor. But he has always been much more than that. 

When he noticed you were living on your own, he would sometimes bring over leftovers. Some days you would come home to a note taped on your door with a request to be quiet because he had a long shift and another even longer shift coming up. You started doing the same, but with notices if you had someone over or were doing something that could cause noise. Eventually, you two got to talking and formed a familial relationship. It always felt like you had a big brother looking out for you. 

Ever since he moved to the next city over to work in another hospital, you have missed him tons. Sometimes it hurts when you realize you can't just walk two steps from your front door and be talking to him. Meeting up is even more strenuous than it was before, and you miss him like crazy. It's not just the proximity though, no, it's also that you don't know everything going on in his life anymore. He's doing amazing things, meeting amazing people, helping to make the world a better place, and you barely know the names of his closest colleagues. 

'I'm fine,' but your voice betrays you, trembling throughout your words. Zayne's eyes look worried, and his hand moves to touch your shoulder to comfort you. 'I'm fine, really. Just getting used to being alone in the city again.' 

'You're not alone anymore. You've got Tara, and you get along alright with that new colleague of yours, right? Jeremiah?' 

'I know, it's just...' He reaches out to pull you into his chest. 

'I understand. I miss you too.' 

'I just hope the next person is nice too,' you mumble against his shirt while he gently rubs your back. All this feels so normal, so nice. You're not sure if you'll ever fully get over not living next to Zayne anymore. It was perfect, and now it's gone. You can't blame him though. This was a very important step for his career and you're glad he did it, it just makes you feel like you're stuck in the same place all over again.  

Everything just feels so stagnant, so normal. Like nothing ever changes. You can only tell that time has passed by your growing fingernails and the dust building up on your windowsill... You should really clean. It's been too long. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'This is nice,' Luke awes as he walks into Sylus’ new apartment. The place is completely empty and there's a bit of an echo, but he's right. The place is nice. That doesn't mean Sylus has to be happy about it. In fact, he's not even close to being done groaning and whining about being doxed for the third time. 

Sylus grumbles: 'My last place was nice.' Kieran nudges him over the threshold of the apartment. 

'Stop whining you big baby. Shit happens.' Sylus turns to him with a death glare. Kieran rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in defeat. 'Sorry man. There really isn't much else to say about it.' 

Sylus knows damn well that he's right, he's just not ready to admit it. That last place was a little bit special to him. It was the first place he moved into on his own after a long relationship. He knew his job would always be an obstacle in any relationship, but he thought she had gotten over it. She clearly hadn't.  

When his popularity skyrocketed, she left him. Told him she couldn't keep sharing him, no matter how many times he told her there was no one to share him with. She was part of the reason he started doing solo stuff. He even offered her to stop doing it. It wasn't even a big deal to him. That didn't matter to her. 

Luke and Kieran tried to get him back to who he was, yet even they couldn't ignore the fact that he became a little different. He distanced himself, became harsher, became colder. He wasn't particularly rude or anything, just a bit off-putting if you don't know him. 

'Anyway, I'm going to let your neighbor know we're moving you in this week,' Kieran states and quickly leaves the apartment. Luke gives Sylus a look. 

'What,' Sylus snaps at him. 

'Shouldn't you join him?' Sylus raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger and a lot more intimidating. 

'I just got doxed. Why would I go around introducing myself to everyone?' 

Luke just shrugs. Sylus antics don't do much to him anymore after knowing him so long. 'Fair enough.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The doorbell buzzes. It's ever so slightly longer than the average person would press a doorbell, and so ever so slightly more annoying. Mayorly more annoying because you were just dozing off cuddled up to Zayne on the couch. It has been a long time since that happened. 

You groan and shift, but Zayne tightens his grip. 'Don't go.' His voice is gravelly, tired, a little strained. For a little while you're considering it, but then the bell buzzes a second time. Longer this time. 

'It's just for a second,' you whisper back. He nods and his grip loosens. You get off his chest and quickly shuffle to the front door. When you open it, you have to take a few seconds to digest the picture in front of you. 'Kieran? Why are you here? Does Tara need something?' 

It seems his head short-circuits just like yours has as he takes a few seconds to answer. 'Eh, no. I didn't know you live here. I'm just... I'm helping a friend move in. I'm doing a round to warn people about the noise.' 

'Oh, good to know. Thank you. Who's your friend?' 

'His name is Sylus but he's a pretty private person, so I can't promise you he'll stop by to introduce himself.' 

'Fair enough,' you respond while you think back to how Zayne used to be. It was a similar situation. Took more than half a year before you two would even greet each other when passing in the hallway. 'Well, give Tara my best. I'll probably see you soon.' 

'I will. See ya.' 

'Who was that,' Zayne asks from the couch. 

'Friend of the new neighbor. He's moving in this week.' You grab your phone from the coffee table to check if Rafayel send anything about a new tenant, instead you see a notification from Red Crow's socials. A new post. 

"No smutty chapter this Friday. I have a busy week.   Maybe if you beg, I'll record myself getting off." 

Previous - Next

[zoyarecs]

i could say i’m surprised, but at this point i’m really not because you’re so damn good at everything you write, and i stand by that. i mean, all your works are amazing, but this one is definitely in my top 3, no doubt. maybe i’m a little biased because i fucking love enzo, but either way, the talent is all there (your brain duh)🧏🏻‍♀️

He couldn't decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

boy is sweating, i just know it (AS HE SHOULD)

To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together-an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

this little smug bastard knowing his girl like the back of his hand, it’s canon, everyone knows it hehe, and i love that you included it here 🌝

you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. "Oh, don't blame the wine. Lorenzo's just got a lot on his mind tonight."

i looooove the reader’s personality, she knows how to handle Lorenzo and i’m all for it. she’s so sassy lmao, it’s hilarious 😭 she needs to slap him

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. "Dessert already? But the night's just getting started, isn't it?" "Don't worry, love," you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually." subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word.

hi soooo, i need a reader x reader story like RIGHT NOW, she’s so fucking hot helleoooolosisjshstfvhaysgsg (lorenzo is 💦💦 in his pants)

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Everyone had a good time. What's there to complain about?" Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. "You know exactly what."

he’s so done but as i said ‘prove do seu veneno’ ✋🏻✊🏻

He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, then. Show me." Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce.

nothing—JUST THIS LEONA MARIA WHEN I CAT H YOUEJAYWYWHHEHWGWHWB

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence.

the way i imagine this in my head… i’m so 🫠🫠🫠🫠 because he’s the type of guy who does stuff like this without any warning

"You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?"

i would tease him on purpose after this

"Begging already?" "Patience, darling," "I wonder if you've been like this all night, haven't you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you."

cocky smug bastard fuck me and yes you’re right enzo 🤭🤭🤭

"You like that, don't you?" he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. "Like it when I treat you like a little slut."

PUT THIS ON MY GRAVE, LEONA THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself. You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

i love that he’s treating us like a princess after ruining us, that’s so sweet of him. i want to slap him so bad

LEONA, this was incredible. the dialogues, the tension, the group moments—everything was spot on and made me feel so involved in the narrative. 😣😣😣😣 your works always make me feel like i’m actually in it with them, and i love that because you’re so fucking talented, omfg, don’t even get me started. and the smut?! GIRL, IT WAS SO HOT. i’m obsessed with it, with everything you do, actually!!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

FICMAS #9— WRAPPED IN RED / lorenzo berkshire

december 27th

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

summary: surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors…

warnings: smut mdni, unprotected piv, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship

words: 3.8k

a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of MIA the past two days bbs, i will get to my inbox soon <3 (forgot to do the taglist when i first posted this so i added it now!)

navigation ficmas masterlist

Lorenzo was always calm, always collected. He moved through life with the kind of ease that made everyone else envy him—a permanent smirk tugging at his lips, a lazy confidence in every stride. But tonight? Tonight, that composure was cracked, splintering with every passing second.

And it was your fault.

Because even while his friends laughed, argued, and passed bottles of Firewhisky around the table, Lorenzo didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the clink of glasses or the familiar banter filling the room. No, the only thing he saw was an X-ray version of you, his mind peeling back the thick-knit sweater and denim jeans you wore to reveal the little red-laced secret you’d shown him before everyone arrived.

 He couldn’t decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

You sat beside him, close enough that your knee occasionally bumped his under the table. To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together—an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better. 

And he was trying to behave—Merlin, he was trying. But every subtle movement of yours, every time you reached for your glass of wine or leaned forward to laugh at one of Theo’s jokes, he felt the blood rush to his head and lower. You were a menace.

“You good, mate?” Blaise’s voice jolted him back to the moment. 

Lorenzo blinked, quickly plastering on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blaise shrugged, tipping his glass toward Lorenzo. “You just seem a little... distracted. Too much wine already?”

Before Lorenzo could answer, you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. “Oh, don’t blame the wine. Lorenzo’s just got a lot on his mind tonight.”

He glanced at you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You gave him an innocent smile, one that made his chest tighten and his fists clench under the table. 

Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bet it’s work. You always get that look when you’re thinking about work.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo muttered, forcing himself to look away from you. “Work.”

“Lighten up, Berkshire.” Pansy reached for the bottle to refill her glass. “It’s Christmas. No one wants to hear about whatever boring Ministry nonsense you’ve got going on.”

“It’s not boring,” Theo cut in, gesturing with his fork. “Enzo probably has a very important case. You know, like illegal broomstick modifications or... I don’t know, someone stealing cauldrons.”

The table burst into laughter, and even Lorenzo managed a weak chuckle. But his thoughts weren’t on the conversation. They were on you—on the way you crossed your legs, the way you kept tugging at your sweater like you were hiding something beneath. 

He barely registered when Mattheo passed him the tray of roast potatoes, only grabbing it when Theo nudged his shoulder. “You’re really out of it, mate.”

“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said quickly, setting the tray down with a bit more force than necessary. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty plates around the table. “Should we bring out dessert?”

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “Dessert already? But the night’s just getting started, isn’t it?” 

If you weren’t sitting in a room full of people, Lorenzo would’ve kissed that smirk off your face—or done something else entirely. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaning back in his chair and gripping his glass like it might anchor him.  

“Don’t worry, love,” you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually.” 

Lorenzo groaned under his breath, earning a curious glance from Draco. This was going to be a long night.

The evening dragged on in fits and starts, each laugh and clink of glasses feeling like a small eternity. Lorenzo kept himself occupied pouring drinks, clearing plates, and chiming in on conversations when necessary, but his attention was always split. The rest of the group was far too absorbed in their own stories to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface—except for you. 

You leaned into every teasing word, every subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word. By the time Theo and Blaise started debating the best Quidditch team of the decade, Lorenzo was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep his composure.

“Alright,” Pansy announced at last, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “I think that’s my cue to head out before Blaise starts drafting us for his imaginary team.”

“Imaginary?” Blaise shot back. “I could make the Cannons win if I had half a chance.”

Draco rolled his eyes, standing to help Pansy with her coat. “If Blaise keeps this up, we’ll all be here until morning.”

A flurry of goodbyes followed, with everyone exchanging hugs and well-wishes. You played the perfect hostess, ushering them out with a warm smile while Lorenzo stood stiffly at the door, offering little more than clipped nods. He was polite enough to keep up appearances, but you could see the strain in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt deafening.

You turned, leaning casually against the door as you looked at him. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Lorenzo said nothing at first, his eyes scanning your face before dropping lower—to the hem of your sweater, which you had just barely started to tug up before letting it fall again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, more dangerous.

“Not bad?” His voice was low, quiet in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You think that was not bad?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Everyone had a good time. What’s there to complain about?”

Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. “You know exactly what.”

You laughed softly, pushing off the door and sauntering past him toward the living room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” He was behind you in an instant, his hand closing gently but firmly around your wrist. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, and you turned to face him, your heart pounding. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been driving me mad all night, love. And now you want to play coy?”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a sly smile. “I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”

Lorenzo’s grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice. “Handle it? Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

Before you could respond, he released your wrist and stepped back, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin flush. He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. “Go on, then. Show me.”

You hesitated for a moment, letting the tension stretch just long enough to tease him. The air between you felt thick, thick with something that wasn’t just anticipation, but need. Lorenzo was standing so still, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze trained on you like you were the only thing in the world. 

And you, of course, were taking your sweet time. You took a step forward, brushing your fingertips across the collar of his shirt. “What’s the matter, Enzo? You look a little... tense.”

He didn’t respond at first. His hands flexed at his sides, a muscle in his neck tensing as he tried—unsuccessfully—to hold onto whatever sliver of control he had left. But you could feel it, the way the air between you had shifted, crackling with something dangerous. 

Then, before you could blink, he was there—his large hands gripping your waist with bruising force, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder without a word.

You gasped, more out of surprise than anything, but the playful smirk you wore didn’t falter. “Enzo! What—”

But he didn’t care to hear it. His steps were long and measured as he marched toward your bedroom, every move deliberate, as if he was on a mission. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made your stomach flutter with nervous excitement. 

Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce. The sound of your heart thudded in your chest, and for a split second, everything was quiet. 

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were a puzzle he had to figure out. He dragged his gaze up and down your body, lingering on the way your sweater stretched across your chest, the hint of red lace peeking out from beneath it. His eyes darkened, almost black with hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” His voice was rough, ragged, and you could feel it, feel the restraint slipping away with every passing second.

You grinned, leaning back against the pillows like you didn’t have a care in the world. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you teased, running your hand down your side, accentuating the way the fabric of your jeans hugged your hips. 

Lorenzo’s breath hitched. “You think it’s funny?” he growled. He didn’t wait for your response. He was done with your teasing, done with pretending to be patient. He reached down, yanking your sweater off over your head in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air. His hands were all over you now, rough and demanding, tracing the delicate lines of your body like he couldn’t get enough.

There, beneath it all, was the lingerie. Red lace that hugged your curves, teasing him even more than you had with your coy little glances and touches all night. The delicate lace barely covered your chest, and he could see it—see the way your nipples peeked through, hard and waiting for him. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw that glint of mischief in them.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, running his hand up your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your jeans under his fingertips. “You think you can just walk around in front of me like this and not expect me to lose my mind?”

You tilted your head, your voice sweet yet laced with defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited everyone over then.” 

Lorenzo growled, shaking his head before he leaned over you, his lips trailing along your neck, tasting your skin with each breath. 

“You’re lucky I don’t tear this off right now,” he muttered against your skin. “But I’m going to enjoy this, I’m going to take my time, because you deserve every second of this.”

He traced the edge of your lingerie with his fingers, his touch so slow and deliberate it made your breath catch in your throat. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you—not yet. His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the delicate swell of your chest where the lace barely contained your breasts.

You moaned softly, and it was enough. Lorenzo could feel the restraint inside of him snap.

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence. You gasped, arching into his touch as he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the way he sucked and nipped at you made your body tremble, your hands gripping his hair as you urged him on. 

He pulled away, his eyes flashing with something dark, something primal. “You wanted to tease me? Now you get to feel what it’s like when I can’t keep my hands off you.”

The next moments were a blur of frantic movement, his hands and lips devouring you, tearing at your clothes with such urgency you could barely keep up. But you didn’t mind. You wanted this, needed it, wanted to feel him lose himself in you. 

And soon, it wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. It was about claiming, about showing just how badly you had driven him to the edge.

He tugged your jeans down your legs with little care for the slow buildup he’d promised—he was done with that. You weren’t in the mood for waiting either. The moment your legs were bare, his hands were back, grazing over your skin like he couldn’t get enough. 

You let out a soft whimper when he knelt between your legs, eyes dark and focused on the lingerie that had driven him mad all night. The red lace, so simple, so soft, now felt like a taunt—a promise of what he hadn’t had, what he’d been denied for too long. He ran his hands along the edges of the fabric, just skimming the sides, before tugging it down slowly, exposing you to him fully.

Your breath hitched when the cool air hit your skin, and Lorenzo wasted no time, pressing his lips to your inner thighs, his breath warm and heavy against you. His hands were still on your tits, gripping and squeezing as he kissed and nipped his way closer, the anticipation making your body tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before he finally pulled back to look at you fully. His eyes flickered between the lace remnants at your waist and your flushed face, a smile tugging at his lips, though it was filled with nothing but hunger. “You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?”

You couldn’t help the teasing grin that crossed your face. “Maybe I can.”

His gaze turned intense. "We'll see about that." He stood up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. The movement was fluid, almost predatory, and the way he reached for his trousers sent a thrill straight through you. The urgency in his actions was both exciting and nerve-wracking—he wasn’t just acting on desire, he was acting on something else too. Something deeper, something urgent.

Before you could even react, Lorenzo was back over you, pressing you into the bed with his body, pinning your arms above your head. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, hot and demanding. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the pressure of him, hard and insistent, against your stomach. His body was tense, his every movement purposeful as he ground against you, unable to hold back.

You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, for something, anything. "Enzo..." you whispered, pulling your hands free to thread them through his hair, tugging him closer. "Please."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Begging already?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. But there was something in his eyes—something softer that made your chest tighten. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin in a fleeting moment of tenderness before he returned to his more urgent touch.

You felt the heat between your legs intensify, an ache so deep it threatened to consume you, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore. "I want you, Enzo," you breathed, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Lorenzo’s smirk deepened, but there was a teasing, almost mocking quality to it as he looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. His voice was low, taunting, as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours softly before pulling away, his breath hot against your cheek. 

“Patience, darling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your body again, barely skimming over the lace of your lingerie before he slid his hand between your legs. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of your panties, teasing just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily.

You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you didn’t get a chance to savor it. He moved faster, tugging at your panties just enough to expose you, fingers now teasing your sensitive skin, circling slowly, deliberately. 

“You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost in awe, as he dragged his fingers lower. The way he spoke sent another rush of heat through you. “I wonder if you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you.”

His fingers slid inside you without warning, and you gasped, your back arching against the bed as you dug your fingers into the sheets. Lorenzo’s thumb found your clit, circling it in a rhythm that sent your mind spinning. His pace was slow at first, just enough to drive you wild, but he wasn’t gentle. Not tonight.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he muttered, the words laced with both admiration and amusement. “Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to make you cum?”

You could only moan in response, your body reacting to his every touch, every movement. His fingers curved inside you, pressing against that spot that made your vision blur and your chest tighten. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.

“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr against your skin. “Wondering when I’d finally take what’s mine.”

You nodded, barely able to focus, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers increased their pace, the pressure in your core building higher, tighter, until you were on the edge of losing yourself.

But just as you felt yourself teetering, Lorenzo pulled his fingers away, leaving you breathless and aching. He lifted his head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched your body writhe beneath him, desperately trying to find some relief.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not tonight.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as he kissed you again, deep and forceful. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, the heat between you both palpable.

“Now,” he growled, “I’m going to make you feel it.”

With one swift movement, he thrust into you, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothing. The pleasure hit you instantly, a deep, overwhelming pressure that had you gasping for air. He didn’t hold back. His pace was brutal from the start, each thrust driving deeper, filling you completely. The way he moved, so forceful, so confident—it made everything inside you tighten.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, your hands scrambling to grab at his back, pulling him closer. “Enzo… Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for it.”

You swallowed hard, the words feeling like they were caught in your throat, but he was relentless. His thrusts were deep and unforgiving, each one hitting a new level of pleasure you hadn’t expected. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, slapping at your ass, as if marking you, claiming you. His lips were on your neck, biting, sucking, leaving bruises that only added to the fire burning inside you.

“Enzo…” you gasped again, unable to control the way your body moved against his. “Please, harder…”

He grinned against your skin, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

With a growl, he shifted his angle, pushing into you even deeper, his body slamming against yours with each thrust. You moaned louder, the sound filling the room as you felt the tension in your body intensify, the pressure building in ways you couldn’t control. His hand moved up to your chest, gripping at your breast through the lace, squeezing and pinching as he gave your nipple a sharp twist.

You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, making everything inside you tighten even more. He laughed darkly, his breath heavy in your ear as he slapped at your tits, the sting of the contact making you wince, but the pleasure only grew. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. “Like it when I treat you like a little slut.”

The sting of the slap made you gasp, your body trembling beneath him, but it was all part of the overwhelming pleasure. Your breath came in ragged bursts as he alternated between slapping and groping your tits, squeezing them harshly through the lace, pulling at your nipple again with a cruel twist.

“Enzo, please…” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your body aching with need. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Close?” he repeated, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slapped your tits again, the sound of his hand meeting your skin ringing in the air. “You want to come, sweetheart? You need to beg me for it.”

His thrusts grew more forceful, more erratic, as he continued to abuse your tits, slapping them with no mercy. The sting mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel yourself tightening again, your body responding to his every movement. You couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please, Enzo… I need you to let me come,” you gasped, your voice desperate. 

With one final, deep thrust, he gave you what you wanted, and you exploded in waves of pleasure, your body seizing beneath him as you cried out his name. Lorenzo’s thrusts didn’t stop; he followed you, his own release coming in a sharp, breathless groan. He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself.

You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

“I love you,” he whispered, his hands softening their grip on your chest. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you off that easy again.”

You smiled, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.”

Lorenzo chuckled darkly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

[the-teufort-nine]

My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

*

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

//

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

[luckyartdrawer]

100 Follower Milestone Poll! 🎉🎉🎉

Heya lovelies!!! This blog hit 100 followers oh my goodness!!!

I really can't believe it, it's so awesome to see you all here! <333 Whether you're new or old around here it doesn't matter, I am electronically hugging and/or patting all of your heads in great thanks! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨

To celebrate, I have some options in a poll for y'all to choose what you would like to see for this milestone! I HIGHLY suggest reading the explanations of each option below the break! It clarifies some important details. Its down there so any of y'all just scrolling by won't have to worry about a wall of text! <3

Please feel free to vote even if you aren't following me!!!

Poll Options explanations:

Drop early chapters of EYED / Dreamlike: This is a Moon-centric x reader fic I've been working on for several months now and I originally planned to start posting it when I finished it or got really close to doing so. I dropped a sneak peek of it here! I find myself currently on a standstill on it's later chapters, which is why it hasn't been finished yet, but otherwise I am reallllly happy with it's messaging and pacing. (Rn I have plotted out 15 chapters but it's looking like it could be longer with how I write oops-)

The first chapters have been pretty polished at this point, so if people are really curious about this one, I don't mind to start posting the chapters up to a certain point. If this wins, I'll post the first 3 chapters for 3 sequential days, then 4 and 5 will come out in the next week, and then the last week I'll post ch. 6 for no particular reason mhmm yup I am not planning anything nefarious-

Drawing requests: This would be my first time doing something like this, and while I know I can pop out some bangers for y'all I also don't want to dig myself into a hole and leave y'all waiting for a long time. 😅So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests and draw them out! If I feel capable of doing more I may open some more slots for y'all, but I need to test my speed and my capabilities here first. Expect some lovely rendering bc I love it so, but I won't be doing backgrounds (besides simple colors) for the sake of my sanity.

Drabble requests: Most of ya here probably see me as only an artist, but I do write and actually started out as a writer first for this fandom hehe. ✨ I've been doing well recently with short stories so as long as y'all want em, I can hopefully dish em out at a reasonable pace! I, again, haven't done something like this before. So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests, but I feel more confident that I can do this at a reasonable pace, so if things go well I'll open up 5-10 more slots for y'all!

Rendered drawing of a dca AU: Hehe, my forte /J. I've drawn some whacky crossovers, cute sillays, and horror stuff at times, but some of y'all also know I love soooo many AUs in this fandom, hehe! I definitely do not mind drawing AUs, there are MANY I haven't drawn for, but I will be avoiding drawing other's specific AUs. I love making fanart, but this is going to thank y'all for being here, so I would like to keep from using someone else's AU -- it would feel like I'm stealing them e3e.

Plus, this is from me to thank you! And so will the goobers! I'll try to be as detailed as possible with both the characters and location <3

If this wins, I'll set up another poll to last for 3 days. It'll have some general au options like Mer, then I'll list out some crossovers I have done like Submas! Sun/Moon, and I'll add my own AUs! There will also be an option to suggest an AU/crossover! (Please don't be afraid to do so, as long as enough people have an interest in the option, or even if it doesn't win I may still make it if I really like the suggestion! <333)

Rendered drawing of Biblical dca: This means the drawing will be as realistic to the original as I can get it! Gonna do my best to do material rendering and all mwehehe! Though, I may make him extra polished/shiny to not only play with reflections, but to also say how sparkly y'all make me feel hehe ✨✨✨

If this wins, I'll try to finish the drawing within a week or 2 after I make the announcement of the poll's winner! I'll also throw out a really quick poll for 1 day to let y'all pick who will be our biblical goober: Sun, Moon, or Ruin Eclipse!

Something else: This is pretty self explanatory, but if you have ideas, comment below! (You can even if you didn't pick this option!!!) And if you see an idea you like or that you wanted to comment already said below, please reply to that person's comment to keep things easy to track! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, just drop something simple like ✨ in it and I'll know that means ya voted for it. :) (I'll be checking to make sure people didn't vote on the same comment more than once! But you can vote for multiple ideas <3)

If this wins/has enough interest, I'll choose the most popular suggestion! Depending on what suggestion wins, I may actually do BOTH that suggestion and the winning/2nd place option on the poll!!!! ( Woah 2 for one what :O )

My choice 💥💥💥: I typically don't like making choices actually, but in the case y'all are indecisive I will step up ✨✨✨ If this wins, I'll likely choose whatever sounds best to me in that moment hehehe, you'll never be 100% sure what I'll do >:)

Moon's bald and we love him for it: Oh yeah we do! <3 This is just a joke option to let people who don't want to vote to see the results. If this wins... Uh... We'll go for the 2nd place vote! And also I'll add a bald Moon doodle as a bonus goodie. (I'm so good at making incentives to get people to vote, I know I know ✨✨✨)

Thanks again for all the love guys!!! This fandom has been so good to me and I cannot thank y'all enough for making it as awesome and welcoming as it has been! <333

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 20

Summary: After denying Negan's proposal, Y/N is miserable alone. Negan shows up in attempts to fix things and later Joel shows up hoping to stop her from considering marrying Negan.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/158662978 Warnings: Swearing, Angst, etc.

Notes: I've had this story done, I just haven't taken the time to edit it. I'm sorry about that. I'll work to get it up as soon as I can edit the chapters.

Standing before her bathroom mirror, Y/N realized she looked terrible. Last night she couldn’t sleep after what she had done to Negan. Instead of talking to him, she took off on him and had someone else pick her up at the skating rink. Hell, she wouldn’t even answer any of his texts or his phone calls. At one point during the night, she was pretty sure that he showed up at her door knocking, but she didn’t answer. Honestly? She didn’t know why she was avoiding him. Maybe it was because she was embarrassed? Or she felt guilty. Regardless, she felt weird about the whole thing. She loved Negan and she knew that Negan loved her. Most people would have loved getting a proposal like she did with Negan. It was romantic, it was sweet and it was a story that people would have loved to tell their friends because they would have been jealous. Yet she denied him. It made her feel like a horrible person.

By now? She was sure that her daughter knew that she had turned Negan down. It seemed like her and Negan were closer than she expected them to be. Especially since Elizabeth was so willing to go and help Negan set up his proposal. Elizabeth loved her father and she knew deep down that Elizabeth had always expected her parents to get back together. So to accept Negan into her life? That was a pretty big deal.

All night she thought about the things that Negan offered her. A job, a life of travel. Something she always wanted. A source for her to get her word out there. A way to finally live after not being able to for years. Yet, she immediately told him no because of the other factors in her life. Her children and Joel. There was no way for her to do what Negan wanted because she had Elizabeth, Peter and Joel in her life.

Dragging her hand down over her face, she realized that she felt miserable about everything. All she could think about was Negan. About the face that he made when she turned him down and the way he just about begged her to get married to him. She wouldn’t blame him if he hated her now for that. After everything, she threw away their relationship like it was nothing.

Getting ready this morning was hard. Depression was eating away at her and she knew that. Everything hurt, especially her head and her chest. She regretted the way that she ran off on Negan last night. They should have at least talked about things, but she was emotional. Both about him and mad at herself for having the reaction that she did.

Tonight the children were supposed to be with Joel for something with Tommy so she would be left alone to herself. That meant she got up late, even though she didn’t sleep. It meant that she was walking around in comfortable clothes and she looked like shit. This was supposed to be the happiest time of the year. It was Christmas Eve after all. Yet, she wasn’t happy.

Today was just going to be spent watching Christmas movies on the television alone. Because that’s what she felt like she deserved today. To be left alone.

Not even thirty minutes into the watch, she noticed her phone starting to vibrate on the coffee table. Looking to it, she saw that it was Negan and exhaled loudly. Ignoring the call, she kept watching television, but she should have expected Negan to be more stubborn. There was no way that Negan would just give up. That wasn’t who Negan was. It never was.

After a few more calls, things went silent. That was until there were knocks at her door. No question that was Negan. And she was left to wonder how long she would let it keep going. This time he didn’t seem to be giving up.

Lazily getting up from the couch, she headed across the living room and opened the door. Standing before her with a bouquet of her favorite flowers was Negan. Hell, he looked as bad as she did. Sad with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was messy and it looked like he hadn’t slept either.

“I didn’t think you were going to answer,” Negan admitted, his voice raspier than normal. It had her looking down at the ground and he could tell that she wasn’t comfortable with him.

“Well, at least you’re better than Joel. When he wants to come in, he just grabs the spare key and comes in,” she informed Negan with an extended sigh, appreciating that he wasn’t like Joel in that aspect. “So I appreciate you waiting.”

Nodding, they both went quiet. Neither one of them was really looking at the other and it was awkward. Swallowing down hard, Negan shrugged his shoulders and held the flowers out to her, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” she blurt out, her heart hammering away in her chest with Negan apologizing to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just…” Negan stuttered, his hazel eyes incredibly confused with her response to his apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I thought you were upset with me so I came here with this big apology and you’re telling me that you aren’t mad at me?”

“It’s complicated,” she accepted the flowers from Negan, pushing the door open far enough for Negan to join her in the house. Going into the kitchen she added the flowers that Negan had given her to the previous ones that were already in a vase. By the time she came back in, Negan was sitting down on the couch. He was at the edge of it showing that he wasn’t exactly relaxed in the moment. “I’m the one that needs to apologize. What you did last night? It was beautiful and I made it seem like I hated it.”

His lips parted, his hands waving about, but he reconsidered talking and he simply just dropped his head down in a moment of defeat, “I should have talked things out with you instead of running off on you. That was wrong and I’m sorry.”

There was that muscle in Negan’s jaw that would flex every time that he was upset and it broke her heart, “I imagine you hate me now.”

“Come on,” Negan’s broken breath filled the air, his hazel eyes lifting to show they were burning over with tears. Shrugging his shoulders, Negan lifted his hand to swipe at his eyes with his thumbs to collect the dampness. “I could never hate you. I fucking love you. You mean everything to me.”

Hearing those words had an involuntary whimper falling from her throat. Moving in beside Negan, she sat down slowly having his breathing growing louder, “I just wish you would have talked to me. You running off made me think that you were angry with me and I didn’t know what to do with myself. And then you wouldn’t answer me.”

“I’m a terrible person,” she suggested eliciting an eye roll from Negan who scoffed. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Yeah, I’m hurt, but I would appreciate if you could stop attacking the woman that I love the most,” Negan snorted, still trying to avoid showing her that he was so upset with things because he didn’t want to guilt her into feeling a certain way. “Something just happened yesterday and you were very emotional about it. Which I understand. I just don’t know why.”

By now she should have been unloading to him all of her thoughts, but she hated seeing him so upset, “Please don’t do that to me again Y/N. I want the two of us to be close. If something is going on, please just talk to me. I want us to be close and open with one another.”

“Okay,” she outstretched her hand to place it in over Negan’s. Caressing her thumb over the back of Negan’s hand, she was thankful that his fingers hooked with hers.

“Can I take you somewhere to show you something?” Negan sniffled, his thick eyebrows bouncing up with him turning to her.

“I look like shit,” she pointed out with his nose wrinkling in disappointment since she was attacking herself again. “I haven’t taken care of myself yet.”

“You’re beautiful, always,” Negan corrected her, hooking his fingers tighter with hers. Bringing her hand up, he deposited a kiss over the back of her hand. “Where we’re going, I don’t think it matters how you are dressed. I’ve just been thinking about things all night and I did something this morning that I want you to see.”

“Alright. Let me get my shoes on,” she agreed to going with him. She at least owed him that. Gathering her things, she followed Negan out of her home. Like before, Negan still helped her into the car and was as sweet to her as he normally would be. Wherever Negan was driving her, she had no idea. What surprised her was how short the drive actually was. By the time that Negan pulled into the driveway of a massive home on the outskirts of town, she didn’t know what to say. Staring out at the home, it made her smirk when she realized what it was. “What are we doing here Negan?”

“Do you remember this place?” Negan leaned back in his seat after turning off the car. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Negan waited for her answer.

“Of course I do,” she looked up at the home seeing that it was a little bit more worn down than from what she remembered. “We used to ride our bikes by here all the time when we were children. Talk about how one day when we were older and famous, we’d come back, buy this house and live here. So that way we could remember where we started, but still know that we succeeded. Make people jealous.”

“Right,” Negan winked, getting out of the car. Moving around the car, Negan opened the door and she gave him an odd expression. Helping her out, Negan led her up to the house. Looking around, Negan kicked aside the welcome mat where there was a key underneath it. Picking up the key, Negan opened the door and it had her panicked. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?” she was appalled with Negan just walking into the home, turning to face her. Waving his hands at her, Negan urged her to follow him, but she was still nervous. “Are you breaking into this home?”

“Follow me,” Negan outstretched his hand to curl his fingers around her wrist to pull her into the home. Once they were inside, she let out a surprised breath at how nice it actually was. When they were younger and they chose this house, they picked it based on how it looked on the outside. They never knew what the inside looked like. Yet it was just as nice, if not nicer. It surprised her that someone who could afford something like this actually lived in their town. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re insane for breaking into this home,” she noted following Negan throughout the place. It was like they were in a museum getting to look at everything. It looked like something out of a magazine, but one thing she noticed is that it didn’t look like someone was living there. “Your celebrity status won’t stop us from getting arrested, you know that right?”

“I’m not going to get arrested,” Negan stopped in front of a pair of large doors that led outside. It brought in a hefty amount of light that brought attention to how impressive the home actually was. “This house is mine now.”

“It’s yours?” she stammered, still not sure what was going on. “How?”

“When you didn’t answer the door last night or the phone I went for a drive. And I drove past this place,” Negan kept one of her hands in his, waving his free hand about in the air. “It brought back so many memories for me and I realized that you were right. Your home is here. You need a place where you belong. And we always wanted this home when we were kids. I got in contact with some people and all I have to do is sign some paperwork and this house is ours.”

“So you’re saying that you bought yourself another home?” she was shocked to hear that and Negan cleared his throat.

“I’m probably going to get rid of the farm or the beach house because I don’t need those. The farm brings back too many Lucille memories for me…” Negan explained, his thick brows full of emotion talking about how he wanted to give up some of the places he owned. “It doesn’t matter to me. I can get rid of both of them. Because at the end of the day? You’re my home. You are what is home for me. I want to be with you. And I remembered our dreams of having this home one day.”

Surprise flooded her veins with Negan shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t think you realize, I don’t care about money or jobs, I just care about you. I want to make your dreams come true and I realize that I made a mistake with what I did.”

“I just wish we would have talked about it,” she stressed to Negan, using her free hand to place it in over the center of her chest to defend herself. “It was a lot of things to put in front of me without thinking about it.”

“You could have said no about the contract. Work means nothing to me. I just want to marry you,” Negan declared, his big hazel eyes hooked on hers. “I thought you wanted that life still when I heard you talking to Joel in New York. When both of you were standing in front of that window. So I made this deal thinking that’s where you wanted to be. I should have talked to you about it first. I heard what you said and I misunderstood what it was you wanted. I just more than anything want you to be happy. I want to be with you.”

Should she have said something here? Yes. She should have, but she didn’t. Rather she just felt her eyes tearing over and her chest aching, “Here, you’ll never be too far away from the children or Joel. You can start your life here with me and still be with them. Instead of having you travel, maybe I can help you start a local newspaper or site to focus on this part of town. Whatever subject you want to focus on. I just want you to be so fucking happy.”

Lowering her head, she knew that this was the most that someone had ever worked to make her happy, “I still want to marry you. I want you to be my wife more than anything. I want to share the rest of my life with you. I’ll finish off my year with the team and then I will retire all together. I’ll turn the coaching job down so we can live here. Start our life together in this town.”

“You shouldn’t give up this job opportunity in order to make me content,” she stressed to Negan, her eyes tearing over when Negan started to get very emotional. “I don’t want you to give up this incredible opportunity so you can just be with me.”

“You don’t understand, I don’t want this job more than I want to be with you,” Negan claimed with a whimper, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “I would easily give up the opportunity of being the coach if it means that I get to be with you. Because you are more important than any money or baseball team for me. When I look at my future, the thing I want to see more than anything is you. Not this job. It’s just something fun to have on the side. It’s something I’m used to. But I don’t care about baseball, I care about you because I love you.”

“I don’t want you to give up your life for me,” she felt her tears burning at her cheeks when Negan expressively shook his head. “Please, Negan…I don’t want to be known as the woman that forced you to give up your life. A life that so many people love you for.”

“But I don’t care about those people, I care about you,” Negan interrupted her, his bottom lip quivering as he spoke. “I already bought this home. Regardless of things with us, I will make sure that I’m here so that way we’ll never be far apart. I love you Y/N. You’re all I think about. You’re all I see when I close my eyes. Every breath, every thought…my heart…” reaching for her hand, he placed it in over the center of his chest and tipped his head to the side. “It belongs to you. I love you so fucking much.”

A moment later, Negan was lowering down to capture her lips in a tender sweep that took her breath away. The one thing about Negan? Every word he said, she believed it. She didn’t have to question it because she saw it in the way he talked to her. He was willing to give up everything for her.

“I love you,” she breathed against his lips, stroking her fingers through Negan’s dark hair. Cuddling her face in next to his, she knew that when she was with Negan, she was joyful. After last night? She knew that she was a miserable mess. There was no doubting how she felt about Negan and what he meant to her, but it still confused her why Joel was one of the first things that came to her mind when Negan asked her to marry him.

She should have recognized that she could have told him yes about the marriage and no about the contract, but she didn’t. And that bothered her. It confused her. Negan made her happier than anything, so she didn’t understand why she was still having these feelings.

Tipping back, she swept her thumb in over Negan’s bottom lip and gave him a nod, “I just need some time to think over things. This is amazing and I know you so desperately want to do everything in your power to make my life better, but I can’t even understand the feelings I’m having right now. So I can’t give you an official answer. Not right now.”

“Okay,” Negan responded, disappointment flooding his features, but he didn’t fight her on it. That wasn’t the answer he wanted. She knew that, but this was the best thing she could give him right now. It was a lot to think about. There was a lot on the line for him and her. More so him and she had to make a choice that would affect them for many years to come.

Trying to ignore the uneasiness that lingered between them both, Negan continued to show her around the home. It was a short trip before they were both headed back to her home. They had something quick to eat together and some hot chocolate. They talked about random things, but it wasn’t like before. They both still had everything hovering in their minds, but they were trying to make the most out of the day.

By the end of the night, Negan was laying in her lap fast asleep. Since he hadn’t slept, he was exhausted. For a long time he tried to fight falling asleep while they watched Christmas movies together with the fire on in the background. But by the time she had him resting in her lap and she was stroking at his scalp, there was no way he couldn’t have fallen asleep. Heavy breaths were surrounding her and she looked down to watch Negan while he slept.

Love did flood her veins when she looked at him and there was an undeniable happiness too. This felt good and that should have been a good thing. Tracing over Negan’s features, she didn’t know how to respond to all of this. She should have eagerly accepted Negan’s proposal. She was an idiot in her mind that she didn’t. Negan was perfect. And even if he wasn’t perfect in general, he was perfect for her. No one had ever gone above and beyond for her like this. It was hard not to love him with how much he truly loved her.

So her doubts didn’t make sense to her. Not one bit.

A rustling filled the room and she lifted her head to see that the front door was pushing open. Once her eyes fell upon the familiar brown eyed expression, a sense of frustration overwhelmed her, “Joel, you’re supposed to call or knock.”

“You haven’t been answering to me or your daughter. She got scared,” Joel expressed his worry, carefully tip toeing into the house and closing the door behind him. That was his way of trying not to wake up Negan because he noticed that Negan was sleeping in her lap. “I was worried what I might find here since you never do that to us.”

“It’s been a hard day,” she whispered, looking down to see that Negan was still deep in sleep breathing heavily. Adjusting her position carefully, she managed to slide out from underneath Negan and helped him lower his head down onto the couch. Being quiet, she motioned Joel to follow her into the kitchen so Negan could continue to sleep.

“I guess this is where I should congratulate you,” Joel stammered and by the expression over his face she knew that he wasn’t happy. Pointing toward the living room, Joel had a hard time looking at her with his face scrunching up. “Your daughter told me what happened last night. I assume that you two were celebrating about being engaged.”

“Your daughter?” she repeated, her head tipping to the side. Curiosity flooded her veins with jealousy becoming fairly obvious in Joel’s dark eyes.

“Our daughter,” Joel fixed what he had said, dramatically shaking his head as if what he had said was no big deal.

“I told him no,” she alerted Joel with a loud swallow. Almost immediately his head bounced about and he was visibly shocked. Instead of saying anything, he just nodded, but his dramatic expression said everything. “Nice reaction.”

“I just can’t believe you said no,” Joel looked toward the living room knowing that Negan was sleeping on the couch still and he didn’t want to wake him. Even though it was wrong, Joel was excited to hear that. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she was quick to shut down his question. It wasn’t his business. Truth be told? She really didn’t know why either. She told herself it was because of the children, but she honestly just panicked.

“It kind of matters,” Joel retorted, snorting as she turned away from him. It looked like she was trying to distract herself which led to her getting a drink. “I’d like to know.”

“It’s none of your business,” she stressed feeling overwhelmed with him just asking her.

“Is it no forever or…?” Joel continued on still finding himself wanting to know more. It was involuntary and he knew that she didn’t want to talk about it, but he needed her to. His heart was racing when she downed her drink incredibly fast.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, stroking her thumb over the glass. “It’s complicated.”

“Well, you can talk to me,” Joel offered and she made an amused sound that almost offended him. Stepping in closer to her, Joel braced his hands on the counter and stared out at her. Lowering his head, he tried to get her to lock eyes with him, but she was definitely avoiding doing that.

“Negan is in there,” she reminded him looking beyond him toward the living room where they left Negan sleeping on the couch.

“So he’s okay with you saying no?” Joel’s eyebrow arched in curiosity, biting at his bottom lip.

“No,” she responded, guilt eating away at her with what Negan had done today alone. Offering to quit his job and buying their childhood dream home was his way of proving how much she meant to him. “He wants me to reconsider because of…things.”

“Why are you being stingy with the information?” Joel grumbled irritated with her lack of being open with him.

“You’ve been weird about this whole Negan thing,” she blurt out, finally looking at him after pouring herself another drink. “Half the time you like him and then the other half of the time it seems like you hate him. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Joel huffed, shrugging his shoulders at the thought of his feelings on Negan. “I like him, I just don’t know if I like the idea of him being married to you. If you were engaged to him, I was going to ask you to think about it first before you do it.”

“That’s a lot to ask,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing when she downed the second drink faster than the first. “You really have no right to ask me to do anything. Especially after the things I found the other day. You haven’t even bothered to show up and talk to me since. So…”

“You say that you know I’m a different man, yet you’re upset about it still,” Joel expressed that he was uneasy with what she was saying. “Plus, you did say you wanted some space from me. I just was trying to prove that I could give you that.”

“Yeah, and you went right to Negan and fucked him, so…” she pointed out what he had done and it made Joel tense up. “And you even told him about the thing I told you to keep your mouth shut about. You’re lucky he handled it so well.”

“He broke my nose,” Joel retorted, pointing toward his face to show that there was some bruising under his eyes.

“You deserved it,” she voiced her opinion on the matter, knowing that she desperately wanted to hit him herself that night. By Joel’s face she knew that what she said irritated him, but she didn’t care. “I wanted to kick you in the balls, so I’d say you got off easy.”

“You want to kick me in the balls for something I did over four years ago?” Joel sneered folding his arms in front of his chest. There was color pressing in over her face and he knew that she was trying to keep her temper from growing. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I never hit you our entire marriage. Or after. When you certainly deserved a few slaps,” she declared getting a scoff from Joel. “Let’s see…you kept sex videos without my consent. You trash talked me to Lucille and said horrible things. You cheated on me.”

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Joel interrupted her, his face scrunching up in anger. “Cheating on you means I stuck my dick into someone else and I never did. I was loyal our entire marriage. I never slept with another person until we were separated.”

“We were still married when we were separated,” she reminded him how he was incorrect with what he had said in defense of himself.

“You know what I mean,” Joel rolled his eyes and leaned back against the counter having a fire flood her veins at how stubborn he was being. “I never cheated on you when we were together.”

“You would have been furious if I was having an online relationship with another man where I was sharing nude photos with him and role playing sex scenarios with him” she claimed, her throat tensing up and her eyes narrowing showing just how pissed off she really was at him. Joel’s face softened and he dropped his head to stare down at the ground. “You were mine when you were doing that. I was yours. And you would have been so angry with me if you thought I was doing that. And the things you said about me…”

“Those were personal,” Joel cleared his throat, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. Really Joel was right. And the other night Negan proved to her that this was not something that she should have been holding against Joel. But she was emotional in the moment. “You went looking for trouble when you read my e-mails. What you did in reading them was wrong. They weren’t yours to go through. You hurt yourself doing that because those were just me venting my feelings. Which I’ve already told you a million times that I was wrong. As I’ve stressed many times, the man I was then, I’m not now.”

“So I’m just supposed to forgive you?” she wondered, her eyes burning over at the thought of what she saw. “Suddenly, I’m just supposed to say you’re right Joel? You are a different man and you’re the man I want to be with? You’re the man that I want to re-marry?”

Instead of answering, Joel swallowed down hard and his brown eyes lifted to meet her stare, “That’s what I thought. You don’t want me getting married to Negan because you think I still belong to you. Even after everything.”

Stroking at the side of his face, Joel didn’t know what to say when she laughed and shook her head, “Negan never talked about me the way that you did.”

“Yeah, I know Negan is fucking perfect,” Joel growled in frustration, rolling his eyes again that it was going to this. “Even if I wanted you to marry me again, you would always be comparing me to Negan. Then again, you always did.”

“In your head I did,” she whispered, looking down in disappointment. “You always forget how much you meant to me. Let’s see…I was so fucking annoying with how clingy I was. With how I constantly needed attention. It wasn’t enough that you were paying the bills or working hard, I needed you to bend over backwards to show you loved me. You didn’t want to show me the affection I wanted because it was overwhelming you that I wanted you to be someone that you weren’t.”

“How many times have you read those e-mails?” Joel questioned, his head tipping to the side and his eyes narrowing. These were things that he assumed that he told Lucille in the e-mails. Hell, he didn’t even know, but since she seemed to be quoting them off, he assumed she read them a lot. “You can quote them now?”

“Once,” she answered, reaching up to try to wipe at her eyes because the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him again. Yet, she knew that she was failing. “All I needed was once.”

“You still had no right to read those,” Joel countered, his voice growing deeper with his southern drawl filling the air. “It was wrong.”

“You’re right. It was wrong,” she agreed with him, which surprised him that she gave in so easily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. Watching your videos, reading your e-mails…it was wrong. I just got emotional and what I did was immoral.”

Nodding, Joel just lowered his head and sighed loudly, “At least I know what you think of me. It’s better to know than have some kind of twisted, warped thought of us in my head.”

“Jesus,” Joel growled, rolling his eyes even more dramatically this time. “I think you’re being mature and then you go and say something like that.”

“You’re going to judge me on maturity?” she snapped back at him with a frown.

“I don’t think those things about you,” Joel reasoned with her, throwing his hands about while he spoke trying to get her focused on him when a single tear slid down her face. “What are you doing to Negan, Y/N?”

“Excuse me?” she didn’t get what he was hinting.

“You are so visibly still in love with me,” Joel suggested with a firm shake of his head. It made her scoff and look down toward the ground. “You cry all the time when you think about the thought of me not loving you. If you didn’t love me, it wouldn’t hurt you so fucking much. So why are you dragging Negan along when it’s obvious that it should be the two of us together? Yeah, we have a fucked up history, but the two of us are meant to be together and you know it.”

“I love Negan,” she corrected Joel who snickered. “I do.”

“Of course you do, I didn’t say you didn’t,” Joel countered, stepping in closer to her to get her to tip her head back to look up at him. Even though she was crying, there was still anger that resigned behind her eyes. “We’re the soulmates. Not you and him. Yes, you love him. But you love me more.”

“Don’t…” she warned with him stepping forward, pressing her hand into the center of his broad chest. Right now there were tears sliding down her face with Joel staring down at her. “Don’t!”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Joel begged of her, nodding over toward the living room where Negan was. “Tell me that I’m not the one you long to be with. It’s the reason you told Negan no. There was no logical reason for you to tell him no.”

“It wasn’t about you,” she claimed, her eyes getting angrier with him going off about the two of them. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Joel snarled, closing the distance between the two of them and it had her breathing loudly. “You’re enamored with Negan. He makes you feel good. He’s everything you wanted me to be. But he’s not what you want. It’s me that you want. You want me to be like him. That’s why you told him no. That’s why you gave me that chance in New York. That’s why you are open to me having a poly relationship with you two. You can’t let me go.”

“You’re very arrogant,” she huffed, her body visibly shaking with Joel so close to her. Hovering his lips in over hers had her sucking in a sharp breath of air. “Just because I still love you doesn’t mean that I love you more than Negan nor does it mean that I want to be married to you.”

“My arrogance was something you were originally very attracted to,” Joel reminded her of their youth, his eyelids heavy with want. The urge to kiss her was there, but he didn’t know how she would handle it with Negan in the other room. “Does Negan know that you gave me the opportunity to win you back in New York?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she responded with a long exhale dropping her head down to break the idea that they could kiss in that moment. “I knew that you wouldn’t say the right thing. That’s why I made the offer. And I was right. How you think you are better for me than Negan is mind blowing because all you do is hurt me.”

“You know,” Joel reached for her wrist to stop her from walking away from him. “You think that you want me to be a certain way, but the truth is that you don’t. You love me the way I am. I can try to be a little more like Negan. Be honest. Be more open and truthful. But you have always been wildly attracted to me. You like that I’m less affectionate because when I do give you affection, it makes you feel special. You like the rough sex because you’re a freak. And you like fighting because it proves that we’re passionate. That’s what this is right now. What you and Negan have? It’s nice, but it’s unrealistic. No one is perfect. And you don’t want perfect. You want me.”

Lowering down, Joel’s lips hovered in over hers just enough so that his bottom lip dragged across hers. Going to bring their lips together, Joel felt the pressure of her fingers pressing in over the center of his chest to stop him, “I deserve perfect.”

A sharp exhale fell from his throat, surprise flooding his handsome features that she turned him down, “Even talking to you, I realize just how much we don’t belong together. All we do is fight. And you just confirmed to me that you have no intentions of changing.”

There was a sense of disappointment in her eyes after he said what he did, “I don’t want to feel lonely again, hoping that tonight is the night that you think I’m deserving of you holding me in your arms. I deserve someone who tells me how much they love me all the time. I deserve to be made love to sometimes and feel like the center of someone’s universe. I shouldn’t be made to feel like I’m overwhelming just because I want to touch you, hold your hand or cuddle with you. You’re right Joel, I wish you were a little more like Negan, but most of all? I wish you were the Joel that I married at eighteen years old. I wish you were the man that made me fall in love with him every single day. The man that was so proud of his children and me. The man that made the rest of the town jealous because they knew that our relationship was perfect. The man that would sing to me all the time not because he was in trouble or trying to win my heart, but just because he wanted to. The man that told me every single day how lucky he was to have me. The man that wrapped me up in his arms at night and made me feel safer than I ever have in my life because I knew that no matter what, in his arms I would be taken care of and loved. We could have nothing and it would be okay because we loved each other and that’s all that mattered.”

By now she was sobbing and there was red flooding into Joel’s cheeks at her breaking down about the way things used to be, “I know that you thought you drove me crazy because you didn’t do the dishes or you left your dirty clothes all over the room instead of putting them in the hamper, but those were little things Joel. They were worth it because I never once questioned your love. That man was the love of my life. And that Joel? He’ll never exist again.”

“Why not?” Joel stammered, trying to reach for her again but she made it clear that she didn’t want him to touch her. “You won’t even give me a chance to try.”

“You just told me that you wouldn’t,” she recalled what he had said to her not long before. “And we may have passion Joel, but I can’t take this fighting all the time. And truth be told…”

There was a silence between them when she let out a whimper, “You ruined that Joel for me. Over and over again. You can only break a plate so many times before you can no longer glue the pieces back together.”

“Then let me be a different Joel,” he grabbed her hands to stop her from leaving because he wouldn’t take that answer. “Let me be a Joel that you learn to fall in love with again. I don’t care if we have Negan in our relationship. I like him, you like him, he makes us better. I want him around and I think you know that. I may have not told you how I feel about him, but you know how I feel. He knows how I feel. We can have Negan. But if you’re going to marry one of us while you’re with both of us, then marry me. Yes you deserve both me and him. He gives you what I can’t and I give you what he can’t. But marry me, not him.”

“Stop it,” she reached for his arms to pull him up when he went to lower down to his knee. Frustration flooded her body when Joel scoffed. “You don’t even have a ring.”

“We didn’t have a ring when I asked you to marry me the first time either. Well…it was my class ring, but…” Joel stuttered through, his eyebrows furrowing with her shaking her head. “Come on, Y/N. Anyone in their right mind would have told Negan yes, but you didn’t. Because you know you’re meant to be with me.”

“Knock it off,” she warned Joel who rolled his eyes, but wouldn’t let go of her wrists. “You don’t want to be married to me Joel. You divorced me.”

“I was wrong,” Joel repeated what he had so many times. “I wish I never did it. And I think it happened so we could bring Negan into our relationship. But you shouldn’t be married to him. You should be married to me.”

Capturing her lips in a forceful kiss had her hitting at the center of his chest at first, but the longer he kissed her, the softer the hits were until she finally started kissing him back. Cupping her face in his palms, Joel’s tongue brushed out against hers leading her to fall in against his chest. Their breathing grew louder until Joel picked her up and led her over toward the table. Dropping her carefully on top of it, he urged her back to lay down. Working open his belt, Joel’s fingers fumbled to get it open. Once he did, he was quick to get his pants apart. Pushing his pants down to the bottom of his hips, he reached for her and pulled her down to the edge of the table. Turning her over roughly had her gasping out. Firmly pushing at her pants, Joel got them down to her thighs before pulling her to him.

“Joel,” she stammered his name, her hand reaching out to press in over his naked hip. Stroking firmly at his body, Joel pushed her legs apart with one of his feet. Lining himself up, he went to press forward, but felt the firm shove of her hand with her pulling up and away from him. “Stop!”

“I just…” Joel was breathless with her sliding out from under him and working her pants back over her hips. Realizing that she was upset, Joel unhurriedly pulled his pants back up over his hips with a disappointed breath. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”

“You make loving you hard,” she confessed to him with a broken sound, her eyes lifting to his in a moment of sadness. “The fact you think I want to be face down on the table with you fucking me after everything…”

“Then I will take you upstairs and we’ll do it the right way,” Joel offered pointing his hand toward the stair area. “We’ll be quiet, go to the attic. We can have sex under the stars on the nook area that I made. Turn the lights on…”

“I don’t want to have sex with you Joel,” she announced eliciting a frown from him. “All you’ve done is confused me more tonight. Please just go home.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Joel reminded her and she gave him a shrug like she didn’t know what he was hinting. “We should be together.”

“Tomorrow I’m still having everyone over. So just bring the children, Tommy and Maria,” she responded, not even looking at him and he felt guilty. He hated it. “Negan and his mom will be here. Rosita and her family too. I’ll just pretend this never happened.”

Trying to strum up the strength to say something just to get her to see him in a positive light, Joel cleared his throat and she shook her head, “Just leave. Please.”

“Listen,” Joel tried to stammer, his eyelids growing heavy. “I got too heated at the idea of you telling Negan no. I thought that meant you still wanted to be with me and only me. You have to understand where I’m coming from here. I love you, very fucking much.”

“Joel,” she looked like she was going to yell at him, but then stopped and nodded her head about. “I love you too. And I know you love me. But I know that you care about him too. I don’t know why either one of you want to be married to me. Being married makes things complicated. Do you understand that?”

“Why wouldn’t we want to be married to you?” Joel reasoned with her, stepping forward trying to get her to focus on him and what he was saying. “You’re the thing that makes us the happiest in the world. Yeah, we don’t mind sharing, but having you? Being married to you? That means that you love that one more.”

“You were the one pushing for the poly relationship the hardest,” she reminded him, getting Joel’s Adam’s apple to bounce in this throat. “You know that, right?”

“Because I like Negan more than I should,” Joel explained, having a warmth flooding into his face. “I like being around Negan. He makes me feel good. I mean he makes me also feel like a piece of shit, but I reckon I understand how he can make someone feel like the most important person in the world. So I understand why you feel the way you do about him.”

“I feel like the two of you just want me to marry you over the other so you can have one up over the other one,” she thought aloud, the lump growing in her throat when she rest against the corner of the cabinets. “Can’t I just love you both equally? Why does one need to be better than the other?”

“It’s complicated,” Joel admitted, not sure if he understood it himself when he folded his arms out in front of his chest. “You’re everything right in the world Y/N. And being married to you? That proves that something is right in our lives.”

“But I’m not. I’m not everything right in the world. I’m not perfect and hearing you two say that all the time? I’ve never felt more imperfect in my life. I’m a fucking mess. I break your heart, I break his heart,” she threw her hand about in the air showing that she was getting emotional. “I love the both of you so fucking much, but I hate hurting you both. You both accept that I love both of you. But you both want me to marry you. And when I say no to both of you? I hurt you both. It’s destroying me because I love you both so fucking much. And for vastly different reasons. But I do. I can’t lie about it. Yes. I’m head over heels in love with you, but I am him too. And I feel fucking stupid for telling him no. But I also feel stupid for telling you no too. But being married to either one of you? It just makes things hard. You understand that, right?”

“I get that we’re both putting you in a hard spot,” Joel admitted, a frown tugging at his tired features. “But you have to realize it’s just because the two of us love you so much. We like each other and we’re getting more relaxed with one another. And I’ll admit the reason that we were ill at ease at first is because of me. It’s just I was going through some things. I was angry because the last time…”

Biting down on his cheek, Joel sighed loudly and moved over toward the table to sit down. Dropping down into the seat, he didn’t want to look at Y/N when he spoke, “I’m uneasy being attracted to Negan or doing things with Negan because my father…”

Joel lifted his hands hearing the sound of Y/N pulling the chair that was beside him out so she could sit near him and give him her attention, “Before you and I were together, before I realized how I felt about you…I liked Negan. A lot.”

“I assumed so originally,” she knew that she was upset, but she could tell that he was working himself up to something by talking to her. “And I don’t care that you liked him. I’m okay with it.”

“But I wasn’t okay with it because…Negan and I used to do things together before he started doing…sexual things with you. Just touching. Never anything really extensive. He’d come over and we’d watch some porn and jerk off together. Occasionally we’d start to jerk each other off. One day my dad came home early and he found us doing that. Kicked Negan out and then he beat the shit out of me for it. I’m sorry I’m not telling this story well, but I’ve had to think about it several times and talk about it a few which never gets easier,” Joel admitted to her, his dark eyes locking with hers when he opened up about his past long before she had ever gotten with him or Negan. “My dad was a lot of things that were positive, I guess, but he was homophobic. And he beat it into me that I couldn’t have those feelings.”

“When did he do that?” she seemed upset hearing Joel tell her that story and it had Joel shrugging his shoulders.

“When I lied and said the person from our rival team attacked me when I had my back turned,” Joel was honest with her causing her lips to part. A disappointed breath escaped her with learning about Joel’s father. It was a big deal to her back then so he knew that she would remember the time he was talking about. “He beat me so bad that I probably should have gone to the hospital, but he wouldn’t let me. My mom never knew. My mom died thinking my dad was a fucking saint, but he beat the hell out of me for being attracted to another guy. So anytime I felt something positive about Negan? Or something happened with Negan? I was hearing my dad. So you’ll have to excuse me when I get tense about things because twenty plus years of listening to that man’s voice inside my head is hard.”

Joel swallowed down hard with her dropping her hand to squeezed her fingers around his, “You were and remain to be the only person that I have more feelings for than I do Negan. No one else ever made me feel normal or so in love like I do when I’m with you.”

“Joel, I love you,” she grabbed his hands squeezing them firmly. “But you are normal. You were normal. Don’t say that. I wish you would have told me.”

“What would it have done?” Joel slurred, pain visible in his face. “You were just a kid. You were a hot head but you weren’t about to take down my father.”

“But I could have been telling you all along that you were, you are perfect just the way you are,” she muttered, lifting her hand up to press it in over the side of his face. Slowly his eyes fluttered to a close with him leaning into the warmth of her touch. “Both of us didn’t win the lottery with our parents. We’re both broken because of what they did to us. What they continue to do to us, even if they aren’t here anymore.”

Closing the distance between them she pressed a loving kiss against his cheek and brushed her fingers throughout his hair, “Regardless of what you think Joel, I wouldn’t have picked someone else to be the father of my children. I think because we both went through what we did, we knew what it took to be loving parents. I don’t regret one bit having the life that I did with you. You’re a good father and your children will always know what unconditional love is because you’re an amazing father. That’s what you have to think about. How what happened to you impacted you in a positive way. Stop beating yourself up over something that you can’t control.”

A broken breath fell from his throat and he turned toward her palm to place a loving kiss against the center of her hand, “Come with me.”

“Where?” Joel muttered with her standing up holding her hand out for him. Accepting it, she led him toward the living room causing him to panic when they stepped before Negan. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to include Negan in any of their discussions. Especially since he just tried to convince her to marry him and not Negan.

“Honey,” she lowered down, still holding onto Joel’s hand while the other caressed over the side of Negan’s face. Stirring on the couch, Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered to an open and it took a minute for him to realize where he was. Exhaustion had set in and when he pushed himself up into a seated position, he seemed confused to see Joel there. Holding her hand out for Negan, he tipped his head to the side and took her hand in his. “Follow me.”

Instead of questioning things, Negan got up from the couch with a wince. Neither of them said anything as she led them up the stairs stopping at the attic. Getting the ladder down, she pointed up getting confused expressions from both of them.

“Up,” she spoke with Negan licking his lips and giving her a nod. Moving up the ladder to the attic, she had followed him up with him helping her up. When Joel reached the top of the ladder, Negan helped him up into the attic as well. Moving over toward the nook area, she took a seat on the edge of it and motioned them to follow her. There was tension between both Negan and Joel as they did as she asked of them. “We need to talk or we’re never going to be okay.”

“What does that mean?” Joel stammered with Negan sitting at one side of her and him at the other. Reaching for both of their hands, she held onto them and she looked deep in contemplation. “Y/N?”

“Joel,” she looked to Joel, her throat tensing up when she gazed upon her first love. “I love you. I will always love you. And nothing will ever change that. But I need you to stop overthinking things. I need to forgive you for the things that happened, but most of all you need to forgive yourself. Because you’ve been hurting yourself for far too long. And that’s kept you from truly being happy.”

A tremoring breath escaped his lips, with his brown eyes locked on hers. Giving him a nod, she then turned her attention to Negan who looked upon her with his big hazel eyes, “Negan, I love you so fucking much. You’re fun, you make me smile and every moment I spend with you is special. But with you? You have to realize that you just being in my life is enough. You don’t have to give me the world because I have it. With you. With Joel. And with my children.”

“I’m confused,” Negan was the first to say something, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “What is this?”

“I need to hear this from both of you,” she began, looking between the both of them. “Do you or do you not want to have this poly relationship? Because if we are going to do this, I need to know that you both want it. If you do, we have to work together and include each other in things. Make sure that it’s something we really want because otherwise, it will never work.”

“Are you okay with it?” Joel was the first to speak up, his southern drawl raspy with his free hand reaching up to urge her to look at him. “I need to know that it’s something you want because sometimes I feel like you’re going above and beyond to make us happy. Because you don’t want to hurt either one of us.”

“I love the both of you,” she was honest, gazing back at Negan who was still seemingly confused with where this was going. “And that’s the thing. I love both of you so much that my heart can’t choose who it wants to be with. Which makes me greedy, but I know I love the both of you so much. But I can’t have you just accepting this because you want to be with me.”

“I love you so fucking much,” Negan finally spoke, palming in over the side of her face. Sliding in closer to her, he gave her a weak smile and nodded his head. “And you know I care very much about Joel.”

“I think I care about you more than you care about me,” Joel surprised both of them when they looked to him and he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m okay with the poly relationship because you were the first person I think I felt anything for and she’s the love of my life. She’s okay with the poly relationship because she loves the both of us and can’t decide. I think even though it feels like I’m the odd one out, it’s actually you.”

“That’s not true,” Negan tried to defend himself having her tip her head back to look him over. “I’ve always been very supportive of both of you. I want the both of you happy and more than anything I’ve been trying to make you both happy.”

“This is what I mean,” she pointed between the both of them, “We have to know that the feelings are real and this is something you both want.”

“I am okay with this poly relationship,” Negan insisted with a shake of his head, “but if you want me to be honest, no, I don’t love you Joel like I do her. And I know you don’t love me like you do her either. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not willing to learn to love you too. We obviously both like each other. We’re both attracted to each other and I know that maybe you do feel stronger feelings for me than I do you, but it doesn’t negate that I care about you. I’ve just been in love with her from the moment I laid eyes on her. It takes time to build that kind of fucking love. Y’know?”

Something in Joel’s face showed that he didn’t exactly believe that, but he just nodded because he didn’t want to be the one to push it any further, “We’re just going to have to tell Ellie and Peter in a way that makes sense because I don’t want to hide anything from them.”

“That’s something to worry about when we figure everything out here first,” she agreed with Joel, swallowing down hard. Dropping back dramatically on the oversized cushion that Joel put in the nook area of the attic had both men looking to her. “I could really just use a night of relaxing. Especially with it being Christmas tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan slurred, leaning back to lay down onto the cushion with her. Sliding in beside her, his nose nuzzled in against the side of her neck and his hand pressed in over her abdomen. Realizing what she was asking for, Joel was careful in the way that he lowered down beside her as well. Mirroring what Negan had done, Joel pressed a kiss over her cheek. “You mean everything to me.”

Knowing that she wanted silence, Joel knew that it was going to take a whole lot more than just this simple talk, but he was going to give her what she asked for right now and hold her close. For him? Sharing her with Negan and getting to explore what he felt for Negan when he was younger was the best option. One he hoped that they could figure out altogether.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

[urautismdiagnosis]

Ships hehe

BOATS (ships)

OK SO I won't tolerate anyone trashing aro ace people or queer platonic relationships or invalidating them, THAT OUT OF THE WAY TIME FOR HEADCANONSSS

barnacles and kwazii 🐻‍❄️💛🐱: I originally shipped them when I was like 12 lol

To me they're going to become a QPR and they mean the world to me.

I need to start actually posting my stories to showcase what's gonna happen BUT CMON GUYS THEY HAD AN ENTIRE EPISODE ABOUT THEM BEING A SYMBIOTIC RELATIONSHIP?!

Like I'm gonna be so real they were octopod POD mates. (Their rooms in the same bubble lol)

Kwazii is his ✨first mate✨

They're a married couple that doesn't realize it yet!I'm going to trauma bond them and no one can stop me. Cuz I've already done it 😎👍✨

They deeply trust eachother! I'm going to make barnacles hold what he thinks is kwazii dead in his arms! Barnacles loves this silly cat man! Kwazii loves to be appreciated and make barnacles proud! They emotionally support eachother! Kwazii is going to have nightmares about the captain dying in a horrific way that totally doesn't relate to the intens epsychological trauma I've given him! Barnacles wants to be useful and have someone to love but also someone to tell him its ok and that he doesn't have to be perfect or brave all the time! Kwazii wants to not be alone and prove himself to someone who truly sees the worth in him while being able to trust that they'd always stay loyal together! They have so many inside jokes and shared moments of near death experiences! Accordian music and shanties!

anyways onto SHELLINGTON AND DASHI AY AY AY AYYYY

Uhhh so I haven't posted their designs and my headcanons but yes Shellington is autistic to me (totally not me projecting but yall see the username. Ill get into why I think he's autistic on my character design post for him) and yes I think yk what? Maybe he was a little lonely and weird as a kid and yk what also? Maybe he does have some chronic pain too I dont make the rules (yes I do)

Anyways like shellington, I'm giving my baby issues and fears relating to not being like part of the group lol. Subconsciously anyways. And yk he found his people, the octonauts who value him and his interests and dont blame him for messing up lol and he likes himself as a person

(BTW he wouls totally try to adopt a cryptid like creature (new species!) abomination and name it Steve I already have an entire plot)

Do yall remember when they were sent to spend several weeks alone together in the midnight zone cuz I do

Regardless i think dashi just casually asked him ayyo wanna date and then he bluescreened LOL

As for dashi well, I'll get into her headcanons when I post her character design as well, but regardless she needs someone who understands and supports her passions without judgement yk?

She is so incredible,like photography, computer specialist, apparently technically a scientist, a surfer, able to pilot deep marine vehicles, got swallowed by a whale, did a flip from the manta ray while diving FRKM SEVERAL METWRS IN THE AIR INTO WAYER THAT WAS ABOUT TO HAVE LAVA POUR INTO IT???, and is a whole pilot now apaprently???

Like holy-

Anyways yeah dashi thinks shellington is an amazing single father with so much kindness and emotional intelligence and many many charming qualities 🥰

Shellington thinks dashi is Like actually a really really awesome person??? Like they both like organizing things!! Shes funny and smart!! They can both talk about eachothers interests and he likes to make her happy!! She's really cool and kind and helps him with stuff and she's super intelligent and charming! He just thinks she's oh so very cool. She's so confident and has kind eyes 🥰

Anyways yes

Btw just wanna say that tweak is like if u were aro ace to the max lolll shes just content with her life and friends lol

now for the penguin(s) in the room

ok so shes gonna be a plot relevant character in a story I've got in the works (The Oil RIg) it'll be a fun ride dw, but we love medic x depressed woman its great and yes I do think peso could pull any gal just by existing like straight up fight me on this fight me fIGHT ME-

ok not fight I'm not like that but I will stand on this hill till I die

but fr tho it was a whole telenovellahow they met omg- I'm talking the drama- thelore- thesoftmoments and the heartbreaking goodbyes- not to worry tho they do meet again and are like long distance(with tons of visiting) lol they have a very healthy relationship tho considering that shes like idk, ig fresh out of a like, very unhealthy environment

i ain't gonna spoil anything rn tho lol but she Gon save his life and he gon save hers and its gonna be beautiful<3 <3 <#

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 3

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest; borders created by @anitalenia

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a smidge of tension, cat :), small signs of past mental and physical abuse, violence, death, guns, knives, bit of blood, explosion cause by gojo’s technique, mentions of bruising and choking, brief threats, bits of trauma after an attack, healing myself a little after season 2, sharing a bed, gojo teasing, brief argument, reader says something about her not caring if she dies but doesn’t mean it, cursing, gojo has scars, cuddles and secret kisses :)

Author's Note: Hello everyone. This chapter has been a long time coming, and I apologize that I fell off the face of the earth. More of that will be explained later. However, I want to thank those that did message me and have been enjoying this story so far, but we know how life can get. I had a great time writing this during what little time I had, and it's also a little longer than my usual chapters. So, without further ado, here's chapter 3 !! Remember to catch up on The Color Blue if you haven't done so before reading !! For those of you who I may have forgotten to add in the taglist or would like to be added, comment below!

Word Count: ~8.8k

Apparently, even The Strongest got the jitters. Satoru didn't think it was possible, yet here he was, his leg bouncing as he sat in the back seat of the car as it pulled up to the long, winding driveway.

He would admit to himself that he was counting down the days, and then even the hours, until he got to see you again. It felt ridiculous at this point, the quickening heartbeat knowing you were getting closer by the second, the smile he tried to hide whenever you crossed his mind.

And the... other thoughts he had of you over his trip as well. He had those a little more than he was willing to admit in your absence.

The driver pulled up to the front entrance and Satoru retrieved his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He went up the steps, opened the door...

He frowned when you weren't on the other side. He thought that maybe you would greet him in the foyer. Oh well, just meant he would have to go looking for you. Satoru started with your shared kitchen, then the living room... maybe inside your bedroom?

He opened your door, calling your name. Immediately, as if startled, you jumped up from your bed, hands behind your back, the book in your lap clattering to the floor. Satoru's eyebrows raised at your sudden movement.

"W-welcome home, Satoru! How was your flight back?" you exclaimed. Something must be-

"Mmrreow..."

A cat's soft purr sounded in the air.

"Whatcha got there?"

"A book...?"

Satoru chuckled and smirked, his arms now resting at his sides. "I don't think that was a book..."

Your face scrunched up as your arms moved from behind your back. "Please don't be upset..."

You revealed a small ragdoll cat, probably only a few months old, it's singular eye scanning before it landed on Satoru. Satoru gasped and, like a child being presented with a new toy, threw his duffel bag aside and took the cat into his arms.

You've never heard a grown man squeal. That being said, your worried face softened into a grin.

"When did you get this little cutie?" Satoru laughed, turning the cat over in one arm to pet her little stomach.

"W-well... you told me before you left that... your money is my money, and I've always wanted a cat. I made sure I did my research, though! I bought her from a shelter, and made sure to get her the required vaccinations-"

"Does she have a name?" he exclaimed, handing the cat to you.

"I named her Sugar... if you don't like it, we can-"

"Sugar! Awww, that's the perfect name!!" he cooed, petting Sugar under her chin, her right and only eye squinting as she purred. "She already likes me too..."

Sugar moved out of his arms to lay on your bed as you strode to reach for a book on your dresser. A book for taking care of kittens, he realized. "You don't have to worry about taking care of her. I have her food ready for the next few months, the best kind I could find for her breed and age, and I already have her litter set up in the laundry room. I'm keeping her toys in my room as well," you explained, already paging through the book to support your points.

Satoru looked at you from where he started to kneel at the foot of your bed, getting up close and personal with the new feline friend. He admired your sudden commitment, but... "You don't want my help?" Satoru questioned, cocking his head.

"Well, I figured since I'm the one who bought her, I should take care of her. I don't want to inconvenience you," you answered, clasping your hands with the book in front of you.

"It's not really that much of an inconvenience. The only reason I never got one before was because I felt bad that I was almost never home. But now that you're here, it makes it a lot easier. It's not like you got a dog," he reasoned, now standing to full height while petting across the fur of Sugar's back. "If you really want to take full responsibility, that's fine, but I don't mind helping. I just can't promise I can or will want to change the litter."

You let out a small laugh. "I'm okay with that then..."

After a few moments of silence, you picked up your gaze from the floor, a soft smile on your face and a question on your tongue, only to see Satoru looking at you already.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had such sweet eyes, like blue cotton candy, and the way he looked at you with them was even sweeter. A small blush warmed your cheeks as you averted your eyes. What were you going to say again?

"Something wrong, pretty girl?"

"W-what? Oh, no, I was just... going to ask how your trip was?"

Satoru shrugged. "Meh, nothing out of the usual. Just a few grade ones here and there, but finding a special grade was a little interesting. I took care of that one too. Oh, and there was this one store-"

Satoru ended up ranting about all of the new stores and restaurants he tried out for an hour, even if you did remember some of these places briefly from your short, daily phone calls. He even paused to retrieve something from his bag at one point: a delicate antique comb with pearls in the handle. A gift, as well as something that reminded him of you.

You took it from him to arrange in your jewelry box. You found it quite absurd that Satoru was telling you more about his leisure time that he spent in Kyoto rather than the curses he fought. You couldn't tell if he was just trying to spare you the gruesome details, or he if really didn't feel like it was that important to talk about. Perhaps to him, these curses were like stones on his path to be kicked or flies he shooed away from his face, barely worth mentioning. At least, that's what it seemed like to you.

It scared you a bit.

"(Y/N)?" Your thoughts broke as he said your name, one of his hands resting on Sugar as he sat by her and the other resting on his knee while he looked at you. "You good?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine..."

"Really? You don't seem like it..." Satoru expressed, now rising from your bed to walk over to you. Since he had left, you had forgotten how much taller he was than you. "Is everything okay? I never got to ask how you were here without me..."

Your face shifted as he said that. "May I confess something?"

His eyebrows raised. "Yes, go ahead."

You held the book in your hands close to your chest. "When... when I first started to live here, I found your presence... unwanted and... a bit frightening. I got more accustomed to it and... as we became friends it had become normal. But when you left for this mission, I didn't realize how used to it I had gotten. So much so that... sometimes, when I found myself eating or going about the house or cleaning our living spaces, I would suddenly feel... I felt-"

"Is this your way of saying you missed me?" Satoru interrupted, a smug grin reaching the handsome planes of his face.

Your face flushed. "W-well, yes! But, what I was trying to get to is that-"

"I can't believe it. (Y/N) actually likes me! Maybe she won't move across the world from me after all, haha!!" Satoru gasped sarcastically before pumping his fist in triumph, to which you huffed. Satoru snickered, ruffling your hair. "Heeey, it's okay. You can admit that you missed your darling, awesome husband."

"Not just my husband. My friend," you returned, a grateful smile gracing your features. He mirrored that same smile, his hands on his hips. After a beat too long, you sauntered past him back to Sugar, who was now curled on your bed. "That being said, I think we should celebrate your return."

"Celebrate?" Satoru's eyes followed you as you walked, subtly taking the shape of your waist as you moved and shoving the ensuing thoughts deep down.

"Yes, as both a welcoming party for Sugar and for your return home," you replied, taking the slumbering kitten in your arms. "Also, mostly because I haven't had anyone to cook for this past week."

Satoru picked up his duffel bag and followed you out the door towards the stairs. "Surely that isn't the only reason you missed me?" he laughed.

"Well, nothing else is coming to mind," you joked right back, turning to him. Satoru looked back at you wide-eyed, an opened mouth grin forming on his face. Did you just... go along with one of his sarcastic gags? Telling by the little hidden smile you were giving him, you were.

This was new.

Satoru just huffed and shrugged, taking a step past you to open his bedroom door. "I think I'm rubbing off on you, pretty girl. Maybe I should've stayed away longer..."

You tried to hide your flush by avoiding eye contact, the sudden drop in octave in his voice causing you to go warm. He saw it anyway. Almost expected it at this point, given how predictable your reactions were. He stepped through his bedroom doorway, duffel bag on his shoulder once more, the epitome of smug satisfactory on his face.

Until you gripped his hand, looking up at him with eyes that could bring him to his knees. "I'm glad your home, Satoru."

It was the first time that you had ever initiated such contact. You knew it of course, and so did he. He clung to that unspoken fact, that knowing bit of trust and maybe something a bit more, as he engulfed your hand in his, giving it a small, warm squeeze.

"Me too..."

The two of you decided on a savory curry recipe for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but still delicious. Satoru chose to use the time as a way to try and test out that new found humor of yours, smiling to himself when he would get you to laugh or reply back with something witty. He'd been waiting to see this kind of side of you for a while, one that you had originally kept reserved, or maybe didn't even know that you had at all.

While eating, Satoru asked what you had been up to when he was away. "I was keeping up with my usual tasks. Nothing too special..." you said, looking down at your plate as you spooned some of the curry.

Satoru stared at you as you did, a small frown on his face. "So you didn't get out at all or do anything?" He also wanted to question why you couldn't seem to look at him right now, but he pushed the thought aside.

You shook your head, taking a bite. "Other than running errands or picking out Sugar, no."

"Well, maybe we should-"

Satoru paused.

You looked up at his sudden silence. "Satoru?"

He shushed you immediately, causing you to bite your tongue. He stared ahead, as if peering right through the wall ahead of him. He was peering right through the wall, using his Six Eyes. You could tell by the feint bits of cursed energy seeping into the room.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Satoru peeled himself from his seat, his expression suddenly hard. The staff had gone home for the day already, Sugar was sleeping under your feet... What could he possibly be going to check?

"Stay here," he murmured, his voice low. His tone sent a shiver of fear down your spine, not just because of its command, but for whatever the reason could be to change his demeanor so suddenly.

"Satoru, what is it-" you began, your voice hushed and brow furrowed. "Stay here," he growled, his head snapping in your direction as you barely rose from your seat. You complied, inching back down. "I'll be right back."

And with that, he moved, keeping a brisk pace as he opened the door that led to the rest of the estate, and shut it behind him. Worry began to coil in your gut, the thought of what could be so wrong that Satoru would have to just get up and leave. A few seconds passed, then a minute, more minutes...

You couldn't take it. You had to know something. Even if Satoru instructed you to stay put... as long as you didn't leave your shared part of the house, it would be okay, right? You rose from your chair slowly, the wood scraping against the floor as you padded over to the door at a snail's pace, an anticipatory feeling curling in your gut. Fear, something you knew almost all too well. It didn't help that your inner thoughts at the moment were your father's voice, laying out possible consequences and outcomes-

And yet, you grabbed the handle and swung the wide oak door open. Nothing but the dark hall and the stairwell beyond it greeted you.

"Satoru?" You thought that maybe he was playing a thoughtless prank, trying to scare you all for nothing. You almost expected him to pop out from behind you for a moment. No response.

You sighed, turning to shut the door, just before Sugar slipped past you, running. Of course, after her nap her boundless energy would push her towards the one place you didn't want her to be. You lunged forward to grab her, but the kitten only ran further away, as if daring you to catch her in some sort of game. If Satoru saw her, he would know that you must have opened the door at some point!

"Sugar!" you called, running down the hall after her.

"Who wants to tell me how you found my home? First to speak up dies last."

None of the thirty armed men standing in the garden said anything, sticking to aiming their useless guns. Satoru stood before them, arms crossed, the only thing between them and the house. And you.

"Okay, how about an easier question. Who hired you and how did you get past the wards?"

Wards had been placed all around the estate centuries ago when it was first built. No one had ever gotten past them. Until now.

It was almost embarrassing, too. None of these fuckers had any cursed energy, yet he had sensed them creeping through the treeline during dinner. He would've paid it no mind, since the barrier created by the wards should have stopped them. But they had walked right on through, and the barrier probably tickled them with a shock at best. He'd have to check their integrity later. But for now...

"Do I have to treat you like my students and pick on one of you?" Satoru snickered, a hand on his hip. This was a waste of time. The sooner he could get past the easy part, the sooner he could continue dinner with you and figure out who had sent these idiots so he could pay them a surprise visit. He didn't appreciate unexpected guests, especially while in the company of his wife.

Satoru sighed. "Okay then, you." Satoru pointed to one of the men on his left, and the man's arm twisted and exploded in blood and bone, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream. The men replied with open fire, to which Satoru easily blocked with his infinity.

Some of them refrained for a moment, realizing that this was no ordinary target, and that he was no ordinary man. The men stopped firing altogether, bewildered, and watched as the bullets clattered to the soft grass in front of him as he dropped his infinity.

"Should I ask one more time?" Satoru seethed lowly, stalking towards the group. A few of the sensible ones backed away a few steps. One man began to shake.

Satoru turned his head in that man's direction, watching him. The man cried out, and fired off his automatic rifle in a fit of terror, the bullets catching some of his team. The others began to fire with reckless abandon.

Satoru began to take care of them quickly, trying not to waste too much energy as he moved between each target. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Each bit of blood he poured only hit the infinity barrier he kept up and blew off like rain on a windshield. But he needed to keep one alive-

There. One was running back through the trees; a coward then, someone likely to confess. He made quick work of the rest, before running after the escaping man not too far into the surrounding forest.

Satoru caught him by his shoulder, ripped his gun away, and flung him to the ground, putting his shoe to the man's chest. "Talk."

"I-I don't know-"

"Then know. Or you'll end up just like the rest."

"But I can't. I won't. He won't let me remember-"

Satoru's head inclined. "Who?"

The man beneath him let out a shaky breath, pointing back towards the house. Satoru's eyes widened, looking back and-

Someone was dragging you through the back garden doors. They had cursed energy.

Satoru teleported back in a heartbeat, right behind the person, bared hands going to wrap around their neck-

But they reacted too quickly. The person, a woman, whirled you in front of herself, holding you up by your neck as a shield. Your choking made Satoru see red.

"Not so fast, Limitless," she purred. "Step back, or I snap her neck."

It would be so easy to snap hers instead, but he didn't know her technique. He didn't know what she could do to you. He complied reluctantly, and the woman set you down and let you breathe before gently resting a jagged dagger against your throat.

The woman was clearly a cursed user of some kind. Tall, form fitting, her muscular body contrasting the elegance of her red kimono and feminine face. She flashed him a saccharine smile. Whoever she was, Satoru didn't recognize her.

"So nice to finally meet you," the woman careened. "Your wife and I have already gotten acquainted." She pressed the knife closer towards the soft expanse of your neck, the sharp edge tickling your skin. You winced.

"Satoru-"

"It's okay, (Y/N)," he breathed out. But it wasn't okay. He had been a damn fool, telling you stay in the house, unprotected. No, he was a fool for following that last attacker into the forest. He was only there to draw him out, so this woman could slip in undetected. "Why didn't you stay in put-"

"That was my doing, actually," the woman smiled, raising her other hand from your nape. Satoru tensed, but instead Sugar appeared from beside her. The woman moved her hand in a circular motion, and Sugar mimicked it, spinning at the same speed of her hand before walking off. "A little party trick. Mrs. Gojo seems rather fond of the animal, so I figured she would rush to protect it when it "decided" to run off." And lured you to the garden just so she could pluck you out.

So, mind control. That was her technique. Satoru huffed. "I will admit, I haven't seen that one before. But what do you want?"

The woman shrugged. "Why don't you guess?"

Satoru's eyes narrowed, trying not to let his slight panic get to him as he saw tears begin to slip down your face. She would pay for that. "Well, lots of people have their reasons. There's always a price for my head, so it could be that, but you seem pretty smart. You know you can't kill me," the woman grinned, "so you went for her. And now I have to... give you something, I presume?"

"Perhaps." The woman began thrumming her fingers on your collarbone. "It is something that you have. Try thinking a little harder."

Satoru crossed his arms, making a show of trying to come up with an answer. "Well, I do have a lot of money, but with your talents you don't seem to need to get it from me. I have valuable information on a vast variety of top secret jujustu subject matters, but really, you don't have to go through me to get those, and, even if you did, I really don't remember anything important, I mean, c'mon look at me. Sooo... other than that I would assume you're trying tooooo get my attention? In which case then, oh, I'm flattered and you seem like a nice gal, but I'm a married man so... what do you want?"

"I want her, dumbass," the woman growled, clearly upset by Satoru's rambling. She pressed the knife point underneath your chin, your chest heaving as you groaned. "Do you know what people would do for Death Immunity? What anyone would-"

"Oh, well, you could've just said so," Satoru grumbled. "Anyway, she-"

A thousand blades lunged at light speed from the trees, all aimed for him, which he deflected without a thought. He turned his head to look at them once they had clattered against the concrete, the knives identical to the one the woman was holding against you. "Geez, did you do that? Where were you keeping all those?" He put a hand to his head, trying to peer into the direction they came from.

The woman's demeanor went from peeved to panic when her surprised attack failed, clutching you tighter in her grasp, her grip beginning to bruise along your collarbone.

"Well, as I was saying," Satoru continued, turning back to the assailant. His eyes briefly took in the woman's nails digging into your skin, his voice rumbling a shade darker. "She's already mine, so I'm afraid you've come here for no fucking reason, other than to get killed. So, without further ado-"

Satoru raised his arm with killer quickness, a blue flash from his hand near blinding you as he aimed and released it into the woman's face. Before the blast could fully take, he pulled you to his chest, turning and shielding you both with his infinity as the woman's head was detonated so fast that her vocal cords were incinerated before she could scream.

You let out a painful sob as he pulled you to his chest firmly, hunching over you with an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. Only when he felt the implosion recede and heard the woman's body thump to the ground did he stand fully and let you turn around. "Are you hurt-"

Your first reaction was to look behind him to where the woman's corpse was still smoking, or what was left of it. "No, no, don't look," he murmured, forcing your head back into his chest. You were a mess, breath heaving, sobs racking your throat, eyes puffy and still crying fat tears.

" 'M sorry! 'M so sorry-" you choked.

"Don't apologize, you're okay now. I've got you. You're safe," Satoru whispered, trying to ground you, rocking you side to side as he cupped your face firmly, bringing his forehead to yours. His hands were warm, so unlike that woman's. Thumbs wiping your tears, he stroked your cheek as if it was the only thing able to pull you back to reality. "You're safe. I've got you."

The investigation at the Gojo estate started within an hour of the attack and was still ongoing the next morning. Members of Jujustu High's Tokyo staff came to help with investigation and cleanup. After they debriefed you, Satoru asked Suguru if the two of you could crash at his apartment for a while, just until he was sure that the location of this estate and the others under the Gojo name were secure. Suguru agreed, leaving with you in tow so you could get some rest and to make sure you were well protected.

Now, those involved in the investigation met in the estate dining room. The chandelier light played off the ancient mahogany walls, overshadowed by the streams of golden sunlight bleeding through the skinny, arching windows and glinting against the many colored alcohol bottles sitting on the flight of shelves against the opposite wall.

Nobody reached for a glass though.

The first one to speak was Ijichi, having entered the room minutes after everyone else. "We have identified the female curse user," he said, passing off a matching folder to each person sitting at the table. "Her name was Kawate Kiko, a curse user who has been hired by many crime organizations and other private buyers for her skills, both in hunting humans and curses."

"And her cursed technique was mind control?" Yaga began.

"No."

All the heads turned to Satoru, sitting cross legged, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He had switched out his t-shirt and sweats from earlier to his official uniform. "It wasn't mind control. She was able to manipulate knives telepathically at rapid speeds, at numbers probably close to 100."

Shoko set down the file. "Do we have any clue who may have hired her and these men? Or what their motive may have been? Perhaps she hired them to help her."

Yaga grumbled. "Well, if someone didn't blow her face off-"

"Sorry that I didn't give a fuck. Not when she was holding a knife to my wife's throat," Satoru said lowly and firmly. The room went quiet before he sighed and spoke again. "Things don't add up. The men, we know, were all ex-convicts and low lives of local Tokyo crime rigs, with little to no connection to one another or any part of the jujustu world. They would have had no reason to suddenly band together for a hunt like this, especially with someone of Kawate's caliber. Secondly, the man that I hunted down in the forest said he didn't know why he was there and that someone, a he, was preventing him from remembering. Not she. And with 30 non-curse users getting through the estate ward barrier with guns and armor they had no money to possess... there had to have been someone else here tonight with those assets and that technique. Someone with enough caliber to hire someone like Kawate to play along with them. Someone behind the scenes of everything."

"But I thought they were after (Y/N). Why the hell would the other guy not show himself after Kawate was killed?" Kusakabe grumbled.

"Cowardice? Maybe realizing that the entire operation was an impossible job and decided to flee?" Shoko proposed.

Yaga leaned back in his chair. "What doesn't make sense is that someone must have had access to these wards or known how to manipulate them. No one else has access, right?"

Satoru shook his head. "I'm the only person alive that should know how to work mine, but that doesn't mean someone somehow could have been taking the time to study them and learned to break them. But that would also require an insane amount of energy, not to mention the knowledge behind such ancient artifacts."

"But who would try that when they know you could detect them from miles away?" Kusakabe countered.

"I wasn't home this past week, and (Y/N) can't detect them," Satoru pointed. "They must have done it then."

"Do you know who was here, then?" Yaga questioned.

"(Y/N) never mentioned visitors. I could always ask her to see," Satoru replied. "Anyways, tell my students they have the next week off. Little impromptu study week. I'm going to find the clowns that started this," Satoru groaned, stretching as he pushed back his chair. "You guys can handle the rest here, yeah? I'm pooped."

"But this is your house-" Yaga protested, but didn't continue as Satoru meandered out the door.

Suguru let him in to his complex at 9:26am, riding up the elevator and walking down the hall to his place. Satoru always envied Suguru whenever he walked into this apartment, that he had a place to be truly his. Well, as much as Mimiko and Nanako, his adoptive daughters, would let him, with their free range on the decorating. Suguru had saved the two of them with Satoru's help from a village that meant to imprison and abuse them. Shortly after, Suguru had bought this place with what money he had amassed over the years, a home for him and the girls, one where they could heal and form a sense of new identity, Suguru included. And for him, that meant taking the two seven year olds under his wing.

Suguru said something about how had he had been going over the reports that Ijichi had dropped off before he arrived, and while Satoru was happy to catch him up, he just wanted to talk to you, see how you were holding up.

"I think she's still sleeping," Suguru informed, probably sensing his unease. "She didn't end up going to bed until early this morning. She wanted to go take a walk, but I convinced her tea would be better. That was at 4am, and I haven't heard her since."

Satoru thanked Suguru, and walked down the narrow hallway to the guest bedroom, one that he had grown accustomed to staying in when the estate felt too big and he felt too lonely. He pried open the door softly, peering through the crack to see your form under the blankets, and stepped inside. He made quiet work of changing out of his uniform, picking out a pair of pajama pants you had folded and neatly packed into his duffel bag before you left, and sat on the edge of the bed opposite of you, the bed creaking under his weight.

He observed how you were curled into a fetal position, your arms wrapped around a pillow (that he instantly grew envious of), and while the sight would have made him smile, he could see the other things too. Your hair looked unkempt and limp, you were still wearing the same clothes, and he couldn't smell your usual vanilla and lavender bath oil, meaning you probably didn't shower. Besides the wanting to take a walk, Suguru never mentioned you wanting to cook or read or maybe even clean, activities that Satoru had known you to do when restless or stressed. You probably only passed out from pure exhaustion.

He hated he couldn't have been here sooner. Hated that he told you to stay inside. Hated he didn't just deal with the problem as soon as possible before they could draw you out like that. Hated that he had just come home and now you both have these other problems to deal with.

He was going to have ask you more questions when you got up too, but for now... he needed sleep. Badly. Didn't even care how much he needed a shower right now or that he was about to sleep next to you in the same bed for the first time.

Satoru got under the blanket, the bed just big enough for there to be about a foot of room between the two of you. He turned on his side and stared at your back, wanting to close that distance so desperately, to pull you right into his chest, into his arms, and to feel your warmth and your breathing against him to remind him that he was next to you, and that you were safe. To feel your hair against his face and neck, your skin underneath his fingertips.

Instead he just stared. And then slept.

When Satoru awoke again, the sun was already setting. As soon as he arose to look for you, Suguru's girls were already dragging him down towards the living room floor to stick butterfly clips and extensions into his hair. It wasn't until he was able to turn in the direction of the kitchen that he saw you stirring something over the stove as Suguru stood next to you, a drink in his hand as he spoke softly. To his surprise, you replied to each thing he said with equal calmness.

Shortly after the two of you had married, Satoru did want to introduce Suguru to you, but after seeing how you reacted to being around just him, he didn't want to put you into a situation you might be uncomfortable with. However, it seems now that maybe Satoru didn't have to worry. You two appeared to have similar personalities anyway. He's surprised he didn't think of that to begin with.

Even as the girls stepped around him from where he sat, Satoru could barely make out the bruises from where Kawate had gripped you whenever you turned to face Suguru, who seemed to have gotten you onto the topic of whatever dinner you were making. Good. Getting your mind off the past 24 hours will help you to better process everything later, when Satoru would inevitably have to ask more questions.

It was odd. Normally, you would let him know you were having visitors coming over the second you knew. Unless since he was gone you decided to not tell him, or maybe they came over unexpectedly? Whoever they were, they would only be able to study the wards from the inside, so anyone who would have visited the estate is a potential suspect. His staff had all been questioned that morning and ruled out as well, so it had to have been anyone you had contact with from outside the estate wards.

And what was Death Immunity-

Satoru's thoughts were interrupted by the girls shoving a handheld mirror in his face for him to look at his new hairdo, the white tuffs of his hair being littered with colorful bits like confetti frosting. "Wow, you two, I'm gorgeous! What's next? My nails? My face?" Satoru exclaimed, touching up his hair and making faces that made the girls squeal in fits of giggles.

"How about dinner?" Suguru chimed in, arms crossed as he stood before the three of them with a smile. In the background, you were busy pouring whatever was in the pot into bowls for the five of you, adding ice cubes into the girls' portions.

Satoru stood, letting Nanako and Mimiko drag him into a chair between the two of theirs as you and Suguru sat across from them. Suguru helped you carry the bowls filled with a veggie and beef stew to the table with glasses of water to drink. The spirited conversation of the children kept the table from going completely silent, which Satoru was thankful for, but he kept his eyes on you throughout most of the meal, watching as you smiled sometimes and nodded but never really gave much input into anything. He knew you were still trying to work through everything that happened. In fact, given your reaction, maybe last night was the closest you've ever actually been to death. The jujustu community had become so desensitized to it that even he forgot to check in on how the view of a smoking corpse or the feeling of a blade to your skin may have affected you.

Soon enough the two of you were beginning to hand wash the dishes, Satoru giving Suguru a thankful nod as he guided Mimiko and Nanako to their rooms when they tried to pull Satoru back to their makeshift salon. You and him fell quickly into a rhythm, with you washing something before handing him it to dry, the light over the dining table behind both of you providing enough visibility.

"Geto is a nice man. Those girls seem to appreciate him as well," you murmured, taking Satoru a little by surprise. He didn't expect you to speak up.

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Satoru replied. "A great sorcerer too as much as he is a dad. I'm lucky he's my best friend."

You hummed and smiled to yourself. "That's good."

After a moment, Satoru snickered, "So, you think he's attractive?"

You furrowed your brow, holding the newly washed dish away from him as you turned your face in his direction. "Satoru, that's not funny."

"You're not denying iiiitt~" he sang, smiling wider and pointing at you with the towel.

"No, I don't think that. Why would you say that?" you muttered sharply, handing him the bowl you had in hand before reaching for the soap to scrub the pot. "Well, you two seemed to be chatting it up over here while you were making dinner," he teased, laughing to himself. He didn't even know why he was asking these things. He knew teasing you was normal, but why about this? Why now? Of course he wanted to take your mind off of things but-

"He was talking to me about you, Satoru," you replied, a slightly hardened look on your face. "I don't want you to think that-"

"Think what? That you might have feelings for someone? Shh, it's okay, I won't tell," he whispered with a laugh. You were talking about him? "Really, (Y/N), your secret-"

"Satoru, why are you asking me this?" you interrupted, handing him the last pot. "Why are you..." You shook your head before continuing, opting to walk to the bedroom you two were sharing. "Wait, (Y/N)-" Satoru set the pot into the sink with the towel, his large steps quickly catching up with you as the two of you stepped through the doorway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." "I know," you murmured, gently sitting on the bed. "I know you're just... trying to take my mind off of things, which I appreciate. But-"

"Yeah, I shouldn't have done it like that, I know. That was a kinda dick way to do it," Satoru said, scratching that back of his head. You grit your teeth, folding your hands in your lap. "It's okay... I understand." After a pause you added. "I've been worried for Sugar this whole time." "She's okay. We just want to be sure she's safe before we can have custody of her again. And don't worry, Shoko has cats of her own. She knows how to treat them good." Satoru made sure it was Shoko that got to examine Sugar and not someone that would cut her open and dissect her like some common animal. You nodded along to his words, staring at the wall ahead.

"I... the other sorcerers at Jujustu Tech. They wanted me to ask some things... if that's okay. If not we can wait till later-" he began. Maybe be shouldn't bring this up now. "Didn't they already ask me questions?" you muttered. "Yes, but..." Satoru kneeled in front of you were you sat, taking your hands in his. You almost had to stop yourself from letting out a laugh at the butterfly clips still in his hair. "(Y/N), it's imperative that you answer me honestly when I ask this."

Your eyes met his, your eyes narrowing in confusion. "Ask what? What more is there to ask?"

"Was there anyone that visited you during the time I was gone? Anyone that normally would not be at the house?"

Your mouth opened to speak, the answer clearly on the tip of your tongue. "W... why? Do you think they did this? How? Was it not somehow that woman that you-" "I don't know, (Y/N), but what I do know is that if there was anyone you would have known about being on our property that is otherwise not welcome, they may have had a hand in destabilizing our wards, and I want us to be safe so we can return." Satoru squeezed your hands once more. "Was there anyone?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. Once. Twice. You sighed. "My brother, Keisuke."

Your brother? "Why did he come?"

You shook your head. "No, Satoru, he would never do anything like this-"

"(Y/N), I'm not saying he did but I need to start somewhere so that I can ensure that you and our home is safe. You understand, right?" Why were you so defensive suddenly? What did your brother do there?

"It wasn't his fault. There was no way he would have had any involvement! He wouldn't want to-"

Satoru stood. "You were almost kidnapped! You could have died-"

"And so what if I did!"

A beat.

"What."

Your hands clasped over your mouth. You looked like you were about to apologize. Satoru stood. "(Y/N)." Your fists clenched. You were probably holding back tears. "(Y/N). Don't you ever, ever, say something like that about yourself." "I'm sorry-" "Don't apologize," he hushed, now moving to sit beside you, an arm around your shoulders. "Just... you don't have to." The two of you paused for minutes, not saying a word. He suddenly began to feel guilty, both for his teasing and for pressing you for details when the attack barely happened 24 hours ago. Hell, you could have died not too long ago, and now he was treating you like this. "We can talk about this later," Satoru murmured. "It was wrong of me to bring it up." "No... it's alright," you whispered, hands coming to fold in your lap. "I'm sorry for arguing with you and... for my outburst." "Don't sweat it." "Is this what's its like to have an argument? And to then forgive immediately after?" "Yeeeep." He added a little pop at the end. "It feels wrong. But civil. But... wrong." "Well, that's because most arguments just feel wrong. I like to think of them as passionate conversations, albeit sometimes with more hurtful comments or name calling." Satoru stood and started walking to the bathroom. "But we didn't call each other names..." you murmured. "We can right now if you want stinkybutt," he replied, turning to lean against the doorway while crossing his arms. He nodded in your direction. "Okay then... uhm... asswipe." "Woah, bringing out the big guns I see." Satoru placed a hand to his chest as if hurt, a playful grin on his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse, old lady!" You dropped your mouth in a playful shock. "Well, I'm just imitating the best potty mouth I know, pompous bitch!" He snickered before firing back. "You little asshole!" "Bastard!" "Fucker!" "Dick!" "Motherfucker!" "Dick for brains!" "Pretty girl..." Your next insult halted in your throat, his little purr of those two words forcing a red shade to your cheeks. Before you could react, he spun into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it with a click. "H-hey, that wasn't fair!" you protested, getting up from where you sat on the bed. "What?! Can't talk right now I'm taking a shit!" he yelled back, the shower turning on immediately afterward. You just shook your head, smiling as you sighed. You changed into your nightgown, figuring you might as well lay down and wait until he was done so you could brush your teeth. Was it really only a few minutes ago that the two of us were fighting? The conversation shifted so quickly. Did he do that on purpose? While almost any argument you had ever had ended quickly, it was almost never forgotten nor forgiven. Its reminders sometimes stayed on your body for days at a time. Either way, you were grateful. He was so good at distracting you from things, even things like near death experiences. Distractions. Was this what this was? You still went to bed feeling lonely each night, but the next day he made you forget that you ever did. Maybe that was all you needed, all that anyone ever needed. To go to bed lonely, wake up, interact, forget, and then remember. You spent so much of your days alone before all of this. Does this mean you've become something normal? Perhaps. But was it still normal to feel incomplete?

You were so busy contemplating and staring at the wall that you didn't notice Satoru beginning to sit on the other side of the bed beside you, hair free of butterfly clips. Your thoughts broke when you heard the bed creak, making you turn over to face him.

His shirtless body was backlit from the brightness of his phone screen as he sat on the edge of the mattress. As he scrolled, you quickly noticed the faint scars that were littered across the impressive expanse of his back. Were they from trainings, or from actual battles? Either way, you were surprised that he had any at all because of his technique. You assumed this whole time that his skin would be completely unblemished from any kind of visible injury. Not that you're thinking much about his skin...

Your thoughts were broken again when he plugged his phone into the charger on the nightstand and turned it off. Despite your panic, you didn't move from how you were laying.

Satoru didn't seem to mind. He stretched his arms above his head, shoulders and biceps flexing, as he turned and got underneath the covers. He snickered when he found you already looking at him. "See something you like?" Satoru muttered deeply, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows for effect.

He didn't need a light to be on to be able to see the color on your cheeks, but he chuckled as you tried to turn away all flustered. "Hey now, I'm just joking. I'm sorry." Satoru placed a hand to your shoulder, motioning for you to face him again. The skin of your shoulder was surprisingly cold, but that didn't take away from its silken feel. You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek as you murmured an apology.

You'd never shared a bed with anyone in your life. It was odd, but with Satoru, you didn't feel too uncomfortable luckily. You've heard horror stories about other women sharing beds with their husbands. The snoring, the problems with space, being too hot or too cold, too many blankets and pillows or too little, the types of mattresses they preferred, etc. While you did share a bed with him last night, there was no telling if he had any of those issues since you were already asleep when he came to bed.

However, you did remember how he looked when he was still asleep after you woke up. It was... too peaceful of a look for a man that had just killed for you less than 24 hours before.

He had killed for you. And now you were sharing a bed with him.

Killed. Well, you knew way before marrying him that he had done such before. Why does this suddenly change your perception of him?

Yet despite that, you assumed he was a sound sleeper, which you could be thankful for even though you probably will not have to share a bed with him much in the future. It's quite interesting that an attack is what led to you both doing so for the first time. You'd like to wonder what would have had to happen for you to see him asleep like that without the current contexts.

What a weird thing to think about.

"Goodnight (Y/N), sweet dreams." "Goodnight Satoru."

Before long, you were realizing it was going to be very hard for you to fall asleep. You tried counting your breaths to focus on doing so, something that would usually have you out in no time.

You counted up to 256 before deciding to give up.

Your head turned to where Satoru was laying with his back to you, his breaths steady. Once again, your eyes caught the scars of his back that barely peaked over what the blanket covered.

You let out a heavy breath.

"Satoru." "Mmmm?" He's awake. "How did you get the scars on your back?" "Oh y'know," a yawn, "mostly sparring and whatnot. Maybe a curse here or there." "Oh." "Oh?"

You paused a little. "I thought... your technique prevented others from being able to touch you. I thought that..." "That I was indestructible?" He chuckled, his voice low. You shifted a little. "I'm sorry, I-" "No, it's fine. You don't have to apologize for asking." After a moment, Satoru added, "As you probably... have noticed, it's important for me to be able to defend myself without my technique to aid me, to prepare for any worse case scenario. Lot of these are curtesy of Suguru being too rough on me, heh. But... I was never always a full expert when it came to my technique, contrary to what most people believe. I had to become an expert. These just show part of the path to doing it."

You hummed in response.

"But don't worry, they don't call me The Strongest for nothing. I'm fully capable of protecting-" Satoru paused when he felt your fingers brush his shoulder.

Just before he could register it, you quickly moved them away, withdrawing your hand beneath the covers. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."

"No," he murmured, shifting himself to face you now, his head propped up by a hand as he reached to grab your hand and place it right over his heart. You stared at where his palm held your fingers against the expanse of his chest, his skin warm and dare you say inviting.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, your open gaze locking onto his sincere one, "just because my technique prevents others from touching me doesn't mean I don't like to be touched."

Your mouth slightly agape, you took in the planes of his handsome face against the rays of a streetlight coming in from the window, hitting the blinds and creating stripes against his face in the dark. One of those stripes hit his eyes, which you took in first, and made your way down, observing the clean slope of his nose, his shaped lips, down the curve of his neck to your hand and back up.

The way Satoru looked at you then, he knew. He knew that you needed him, but not in some passionate or carnal way, but in a way that someone wants cream and sugar in their coffee, or a candle in their book nook on a rainy day. Something familiar, yet more. And even if he had just killed someone yesterday for you, to protect you, he was still the person that you found comfort in each day. That made you feel somewhat worth something more than a last name a potential asset.

"You look cold." The timbre of his voice could have probably warmed you from the inside out, but only for a moment.

"Yes, I think so."

"Then c'mere pretty girl."

Did Satoru expect last night to go the way it did? Definitely not. But when he felt you take the little extra initiative to barely touch his back, he knew he had to make it go that way.

He didn't anticipate or really want anything more than just the cuddling. It didn't take long for you to warm up and fall asleep, listening to the sound of his heart. He was surprised that you didn't ask why it was beating so fast, let alone fall asleep as swiftly as you did while having to hear it.

But he was right, your body did fit perfectly against his. Your head had rested against him sweetly, cushioned by that spot between his chest and shoulder. His arms had wrapped around you, his hands finding purchase on your back and waist. The position of his chin on your head gave him perfect access to kiss your forehead if he wanted to, but he didn't want to push the boundaries too far.

Okay, maybe he ended up giving you two anyway. He tried to hold out and lasted probably about 30 minutes. He just couldn't help it! Not to mention, you smelled so good-

He was half tempted to give you another one right now as you two lay here the next morning, with you still blissfully unconscious. On the nightstand behind you two, your phone began to buzz with a call. Whoever was trying to get you awake right now could go to hell. He didn't want this moment to end.

However, even after the person had called you another time, and then proceeded to leave four more texts, Satoru figured he would see what the fuss was about.

He strained to reach behind him, careful not to disturb your slumber, as he grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Turning it on, he smiled at the already established lock screen of Sugar before noticing the messages.

Keisuke Kamo

Hey, glad to hear you're alright. Just heard about the attack last night.

Keisuke Kamo

I know I had just visited recently, but we need to talk. In person, preferably.

Keisuke Kamo

Just call me back when you can so we can set something up. Please bring Gojo Satoru with you too.

Keisuke Kamo

Please (Y/N). This is serious...

Turns out Satoru wouldn't be able to enjoy your brief solace for much longer.

Tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby--vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox @tqd4455 @stxrrielle @rebirth-of-destruction @yoichiislovie @thesoftugly @gojonegs

thanks for being patient <3

[justjesse116]

Can I pester you for your thoughts on Dabi and Hawks' respective canon endings (if you haven't posted em somewhere already and I've just missed it)

Oh yeah, I did say I'd touch on that and sure never did huh. I got so fed up that I just ignored the ending and didn't feel like acknowledging it with a post anymore.

But I do have an answer for you. It's gonna be a long one, buckle up buttercup.

As for Dabi's 'end'.

Ah yes, fantastic message Horikoshi, if you're not a perfect victim and don't shrink away and make yourself small and hide away from your abuse/abuser - if you get mad and lash out then you should just fucking die. Your ABUSER gets a second chance, but you can just go fuck yourself.

(For a better understanding on how I feel about Dabi's story as a whole I got, what, 2 sentences in and had to pause because I'm sick as hell right now and a little fucked up on cold medicine, and I got so mad my hands started shaking and my heart tried to do it's best impression of a wildebeest stampede in my chest. (Emotional regulation who?))

Dabi is my ride or die, because I came from a home where my sperm donor terrorized me my whole life for the crime of being alive and having the gall to take after my mother. I have an unfortunately personal understanding of how he feels, at least in part, and his end in the story is what bothers me most, and will continue to do so.

Did he go about it the best way? No, I'm not a fan of the murder (arson I couldn't give 2 fucks about, destroy that government property babey) but I can't blame him for turning out the way he did. He went through literal hell and came out the other side torn apart physically and mentally. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't fantasize about killing my sperm donor for all the ways he fucked me up every once in a while, so I can't blame him for that either. I think it's a natural reaction to want to eliminate a perceived threat, especially one as traumatizing as one of the people who are supposed to be guaranteed to love you turning on you the way Endeavor did.

But anyway, I'm rambling at this point so in a nutshell; FUCK Horikoshi and his wishy washy writing and bitchass cop out. The end to Dabi's story is insulting at best and harmful at worst. It's very obvious that he was over My Hero, since he bulldozed over anything that would resemble a satisfying ending in regards to multiple parts of the story, but his handling of Dabi as a character is the most egregious in my opinion. I have well and truly had enough of this man (derogatory).

So now I shall move on to the man, the myth, the legend, the love of my life - you get it. Hawks. And if I'm being honest I'm not very keen on his ending either.

First of all, what ever happened to giving heroes more time to kill?

Ahem. Excuse me, getting a little heated.

Fucking give me that man, he needs to be sat down in a plush fucking armchair, with a mug of actual coffee, not that canned shit, bundled in the softest blanket money can buy, just relaxing and reading or watching a show. LET THAT MAN REST. HIS ASS HAS NO BUSINESS BEING THE PRESIDENT OF AN ORGANIZATION THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABOLISHED AT THE END. THAT'S WHAT IT FELT LIKE HORIKOSHI WAS HINTING TOWARDS THE WHOLE TIME. GET RID OF THE HERO SYSTEM. BUT NOOOOO.

To be a little more coherent (hopefully) about it. It's not to say I don't think he could do it, I just think it was one fuck of a leap. That was some Olympic level stretching, at least in my opinion. I just think that man deserves to rest. He belongs in a quiet little house in the countryside and he has a part time job at like, a local farm or something and in his spare time he volunteers all over town and preferably Dabi is there as well 🙄. Give him peace and quiet, let him rest.

I honestly don't know what would have satisfied me canon wise for his ending, but HPSC president just ain't it. Again, I feel like it was Horikoshi catching the cooties for his own work; he just wanted to be done with it so he slapped together what he thought was the most likely of scenarios and just left it at that. In a word; disappointing.

I see a lot of people saying he should have died, because out of everyone of the heroes his death would have made the most sense and had the most meaning or whatever, and I can agree with that, but I'm still glad he's not dead. It absolutely is fucked up how disproportionate the deaths were when it comes to heroes vs villains, no one can deny that. But dammit I need a win, I need a fave who ain't dead.

I think that about wraps up my thoughts without me writing a god damn dissertation. Thanks for the ask, it was a nice distraction.

[simping-for-joe]

You Haven't Changed, You Just Think You Have

Leon shoots up in bed, his breath heavy as he sits up. He runs his hands through his hair. Trying to calm his breathing, he looks around the empty walls of his bedroom. He sighs out softly, just looking at his dark apartment. Not that he could call it his apartment, it has nothing on the walls. The bed was almost always neat and made, it honestly looked more like an apartment dressed up for a showing.

He stands up from bed trying to calm down his raging thoughts from the dream. As he walks to the bathroom he finds himself checking for black veins along his arm. He scoffs at himself like he was stupid for ever believing his dream for a moment. He walks into the bathroom, turns on the light, and shuts his eyes so it doesn't blind him. He splashes his face with cold water, but he doesn't look in the mirror. He can't, he doesn't like to. He'll see the heavy bags under his eyes, and the lines on his forehead from frowning so intensely.

Spain was only two months ago, but it felt like a lifetime yet as if it was yesterday too. He shakes his head and walks out to his living room, realizing he doesn't want to go back to sleep just yet. As he does he looks to the few things that decorate his home. A framed picture of him with his graduating class from the police academy and a black combat knife sits in front of that on a small shelf. He moves the knife that sits in front of the picture so that he can pick it up without knocking anything down and sitting on his couch. He chuckles lightly looking at himself. "God... things were simpler back then weren't they?" He asks himself, talking to his younger self in the picture like he'll answer. Part of him wonders why he even keeps this thing, it wasn't doing anything but making him feel worse. Yet, he feels sick at the idea of throwing it out. "Why am I even doing this?" He asks whoever will answer as he leans back into the cushion.

He shakes his head before placing the frame back onto the shelf carefully. He stands deciding to just get a water before he heads back to bed. As he does he notices the small slip of paper which is the only thing pinned to his fridge with a small circular magnet. Call me! -Ashley :)

Leon smiles to himself seeing the small slip of paper that had the numbers scribbled onto quickly. He opens his fridge grabs a bottle of water, and heads back to his room. Maybe... he could keep at this for a little bit longer.

[icantalk710]

Looong day of catching up on emails and work to set myself up to be (mostly) on vacation as of xmas 😩☕😵‍💫

[chaosxcrushed]

There's a certain CCCC summary video that we really, really like. We think it is a great video for people if they want to grasp the story more clearly, if they're confused, or if they're listening to the album for the first time.

That video being Chonny Jash and the Weight of the Mind on Youtube by W3tBl@nk3t. We think they cover it really well.

However, I'm sharing this for a different reason; they say few certain things that really struck with us until now, that I'd like to share with the fandom. Sometimes, we see people really just.. Miss the point of CCCC entirely, and I'd like to shine a light on what was said here. If you'd like to hear this for yourself on video, the timestamp is 35:57-36:45.

“..I bet we all could relate to that, they are the prime example of the side of you that suffers and the side of you that hates yourself for suffering:

The side of you that just wants to slow down and feel everything even to the unhealthy extent of not being able to do anything else(1), but also the side of you that so desperately wants you to get over it(2).

Sure, laying in bed all day every day to rot isn't healthy, but neither is boiling things down and invalidating your own emotions. Both are paths to inevitable disaster, and that's what Chonny is doing here. Keep in mind that the idea behind this album is being whole, and that means neither of these sides are entirely in the right or the wrong; this album is about inner compromise and acceptance(3).”

1.) The side of you that suffers; Heart. He is representative of Whole's emotions, he holds them. Your emotions can go haywire, especially when one's mentally ill and has no way of their feelings being validated. An emotional person like Heart suffers under the weight of crushing, devastating feelings. He wants to feel things out, have time to just process everything, even if it takes them days or weeks to get over it. It's not healthy, but feeling is what he does, and he wants to help because he knows he has importance. Solely focusing on just your emotions isn't the best thing to do, however.

2.) The side of you that so desperately wants you to get over it; Mind. Many people have been there, have wanted themselves to stop wallowing in their own emotions and just do something else, even to the point where you think feeling things out is unnecessary. This is also unhealthy, but not intentionally. Like Heart, Mind just wants to help, everything he does is in best interest. This is what he thinks will get them to move on the quickest; to leave behind emotions and focus on anything BUT that. Also not the best thing to do.

3.) This album is about inner compromise and acceptance; About being whole. Neither of Heart and Mind are right nor wrong. They have their own ways of doing things, of what they think will help their whole self out the most, but both are unhealthy despite the good intentions. They fight over who's wrong or right, when they shouldn't even be doing so in the first place. It's your thoughts against your emotions, basically; your feelings contradict your thoughts, and it leads to an inner war of sorts. This won't make things better, which is why you can't have Mind over Heart or vice versa; you'll need both of them. In the album, they are only able to be whole when they get along. They harmonize, they 'combine', they see eye to eye with each other and work together instead of fighting over and over. Inner compromise is achieved with this, and acceptance can lead them away from any disaster that there's to come.

What we're trying to say is that mental health is a large thing tackled within CCCC, and yet we see a lot of people who overlook it; thus, end up missing the point of the whole album. We see a lot of people believe Mind's perspective a little too much and treat Heart quite harshly, or the other way where people demonize Mind and say that Heart is perfect, when it's not really that in the slightest.

This is not a hate post towards people's interpretations of CCCC or how they view characters, I'm just saying that people can tend to overlook what's in the very narrative, and we see a concerning amount of people do such.

Anyways. Stream CCCC and put your Hearts and Minds in the get along shirt. Have a nice day.

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[sabraeal]

so, like... do you think Sorata is actually pushing to swap the main couple in AnS to Obi and Shirayuki? I know that being in this corner of the fandom imparts some bias and that ships don't have to be canon to be good, but Shirayuki and Zen have seen each other, what, twice in the past 50 chapters? It doesn't really seem like she's terribly interested in maintaining their dynamic.

It has been forever since I had the chance to dig into my asks, so let the record show, this ask came to me pre-ch 136, and I'm glad I sat on it because I think I would have given a much more equivocal response in August, and now I'm like:

Sorata did not give us 28 pages of Obi feelings for me to doubt her now 🤣

[b0amagination]

Home Is Where The Fanart Is

Happy Fanuary! What's Fanuary, you ask? It's my own little excuse to draw some very long overdue art for my friends, and develop better style with lineart at the same time!

Without further ado, I started with an author whose work captivates me in a truly indescribable way. It would be truly terrifying to a hacker to see how often I'm on her blog rereading an old favorite or an entire story. I will never be able to find the words to explain the magic of her storytelling, but I sure try my damndest every time.

Kirsten @whumblr 's Zayne and Jay of HIWTHI have had a deathgrip on my soul since the first chapter back in 2020 and, though I've drawn them before, once was never going to be enough.

And, well, maybe I figured out the plot of this interaction and impulsively wrote fanfiction. At the end of the cut are a few bonus detail shots as well <3

Content warnings: Belting, forced stripping (partial, not sexual), and canon-typical home invasion.

~~~

“Aren’t you tired of this old song and dance?” Zayne flashed him an unimpressed look, then glanced down at his own outstretched hand. Still empty. 

“I am. Glad you finally agree,” he huffed and brushed past, only to be caught by the collar of his button down. The grip tightened and pulled him, stumbling, face to face with his unwelcome visitor. His eyes cast down. 

“Then why is that belt still around your waist?” 

Jay bristled. He knew damn well how long his day had been, because he’d started unloading it on Zayne the moment he arrived home. If it weren’t for the sudden order that cut him off, his tormentor would have still been listening to that afternoon’s office melodrama. The last thing he needed was to present his battered body on a platter before the long weekend. 

“I have more than one, you know. If you can rummage through my fridge, you can give my closet a passing glance every now and again.” Regret only came on after handing him an open invitation to look through more of Jay’s belongings, but he suspected Zayne had already done more than his fair share of that.

“As it happens, I was looking for this particular belt.” He drew a finger along the smooth leather. “If you’re craving ice cream, an ice lolly just won’t cut it.”

“Does the trick for me,” Jay shot back and turned away down the hallway. “Here, I’ll show you where they are.” His brisk pace far too closely resembled running, and the heart pounding in his throat mimicked that well. He’d hung last time’s belt separately when he remembered he didn’t have the funds to simply keep discarding them. Probably the same reason Zayne didn’t care to use it again.

Just like a cat. The moment something was designated his, his interest dissipated. 

On an instinctual level, Jay knew he wouldn’t make it to the bedroom, but some part of him still had the audacity to be surprised when a hand twisted his hair and flung him toward the wall. Even though his shoulder took the brunt of the impact, the blow to the head was enough to skew his glasses. Jay leaned back and raised a hand to set them straight when Zayne took hold of his shirt and yanked it from his trousers.

“Get off!” In finding a stable place to lean back, Jay had unwittingly trapped himself against the wall where a knee now dug into his hip, holding him still enough to free one button, then another. He wrapped fingers around Zayne’s wrist. “The hell are you doing?!”

“Why don’t you deduce that yourself, Jayboy? Surely you can be a more reliable source than your coworker found.” A fist drove into his gut and Jay lost his grip, allowing the shirt to be shucked off him and thrown aside. 

“You could’ve just asked!” He tried to swallow the clear hypocrisy. Somehow, he only happened to think these plans through about two minutes after initiating them, and wondered how he hadn’t already anticipated the outcome.

“Try giving the same order three times in a row. See how patient you are when your punching bag cusses you out,” Zayne shrugged, reaching for the undershirt next when Jay hugged his waist in protest. He didn’t understand why Zayne held him by the hip instead until nimble fingers flicked out the end of his belt, pulled to free the buckle’s prong, and whipped it out in a single flourish. 

“On your knees.”

“Wait, wait- fuck!” The full length cut across his front, only shielded by thin cotton, but the familiar sting throbbed on his jaw. A tentative touch found hot, angry skin just below his cheek. “That was my face, Zayne!” 

“You clearly don’t care to heed my requests today. I don’t see any reason to return the favor.” He doubled the leather over and tilted his head.

Finally Jay made eye contact, turned his back, and slid to his knees. 

“No. Face me.”

“I’m not letting you bust my lip with a belt!” 

He’d already resigned himself to the shove when it came and caught himself just before he hit the wall again. Zayne’s boot landed on his ankle and couldn’t hold back a smile at the yelp it forced out. 

“Then you’d better get your arms up and make sure I can’t.”